Cende

Yesterday, Dark Respite twittered the following comments:

With Cende and I writing concurrent stories, I'm trying to think of how to describe our respective works...

She's writing DOCTOR ZHIVAGO, I'm writing... hmm. I'd say TWILIGHT, but that'd be REALLY 'damning myself with faint praise', as it were.

(when I wondered about Doctor Zhivago - really?, she responded:

Well, yours is this huge, deep, historically rooted love story. Should I have said THE THORNBIRDS instead?

Some, yeah. It's a little improvement over a Russian depression novel, at least.)

So I got to thinking.

Twilight (we'll go with it) vs. either Doctor Zhivago or the Thornbirds.

I'm writing a huge, dense novel that very few people read, but the ones who finally make it all the way to the end usually wind up remembering (which I suppose is reassuring). It doesn't sell well, but it turns into a timeless classic that's assigned as torture reading in English lit college classes.

She's writing a light, easily approachable love story that will sell millions, is panned by critics (so far so good on THAT count at least), and the fans of which will be completely, totally rabid (ditto).

Mine will turn into either a movie or (more likely) a mini-series staring the Serious Dramatic Actors of the day, who will give critically acclaimed, intense performances. It will go on to be called, like the book that spawned it, a classic of its art form. English lit college students will watch it instead of reading the book and mostly get the story.

Hers will turn into a summer-blockbuster popcorn flick that will make teenage girls sigh over the male lead(s) and spawn all sorts of fantasy sites on the female lead(s). The critics will hate it, and the fans will be completely, totally rabid.

Between the books and movies, I'll be penniless (good thing my husband has a good job) and she'll make a fortune.

The really funny thing in all of this? I've never actually read or watched either The Thornbirds or Doctor Zhivago, and she's never read or watched any of the Twilight saga.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 38.

Marcus knew it was inevitable that Sister Psyche would be registering her opinion on the subject of his dating, he just had no idea when it was going to occur. As he approached his main office after yet another argument with Jessica about Longbow, he had a sinking feeling that it was going to be now and he was not in the mood for it.

Sure enough, when he pushed open the door, Shalice was sitting in a chair flipping through one of the Longbow reports that had set off the latest argument, one eyebrow raised. She looked up when he came in, and remarked, "Well, I see your point about inappropriate interference in the War Zone, but you know fighting with her isn't going to get her to listen to you. She wants to step out of your shadow, and Longbow is her way."

Statesman sighed, and his voice came out rougher than he had intended. "I know, and I never actually intend for it to devolve into yelling, it just gets out of hand with her. I see so much of her mother and grandmother in her - but I also see aspects of Stefan in her, as well, and it doesn't sit well. Her ongoing insistence that she can redeem him doesn't help. Not that I'm entirely certain how she intends to do that by invading his country." Closing the door behind him, he walked around his desk and dropped into his chair, rather less gracefully than usual, and looked at the woman across from him. "Shalice, I appreciate your concern, but do we have to talk about this now?"

The redhead smiled gently. "Only a little, and I'd give you time, except for this." She tossed an envelope onto his desk. He picked it up and raised an eyebrow as she continued, "It's the Paragon City Opera opening night, and having a date along might make things a little easier on you. You know what it's like, otherwise." She watched his face as he looked through the envelope and waited patiently for him to start talking.

"I'm not going to inflict something quite this public on some poor woman for a first date, Shalice. If you think the manner in which the press descended upon your wedding was bad, wait until the gossip columns get wind of the possibility of my dating. Every woman I have a private conversation with will be a potential target." The big man sounded distinctly unhappy with the prospect.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I still own the majority of Three Sisters, and the current manager is the son of an old friend. He'll provide a discreet table, and a nice dinner is a good way to get to know a woman." He paused. "Dinner is still an acceptable first date, isn't it? It's been over eighty years since I've even considered the notion."

Shalice laughed. "Well, if you're going for something more traditional than cooperative crime fighting, yes, dinner is still an acceptable first date. It's also rather more conducive to conversation." She looked down at her hands for a moment, then back up at her friend. "Have you thought about the women you might consider? Rafts of beautiful women throw themselves at you, but unless you're planning a series of one night stands, you might want to look for something other than just beautiful."

"I seem to have a slightly different notion of beautiful than what's currently popular. Comes from reaching adulthood in a different time, I suppose. However, to answer your question... yes, I have thought. The first criteria is that she has to be a registered super, preferably of a high Corps security level." At Shalice's questioning look, he shook his head impatiently. "Think about it! At the very least, Stefan has a good chance of sending people after whomever I'm linked with romantically, and he's just the first of my enemies. Anyone I see has to be able to take care of herself - I cannot have to continually rescue my girlfriend, and I won't ask anyone else to do so, either. Other than that..." He shrugged. "As Alexis pointed out, I have a lifetime's experience and a strong personality. I can't expect to have anyone who can match me for experiences, but I do expect someone who can and will stand up to me when she needs to."

"Well, that sounds practical. Competent, self-sufficient, confident, and strong-minded. How are you planning on finding this ideal woman?" Shalice's voice could have been mocking, but held instead a hint of gentle laughter and encouragement.

"I have no idea. I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

Shalice rolled her eyes, but this wasn't entirely unexpected. "I'll think about it and see if I come up with anyone."

"So I take it you also think this is a good idea?"

"Marcus, we all think this is a good idea. No, don't get that expression. You know perfectly well we all pay attention to each other's lives, and your well-being is important to us. They might call you boss, but they also consider you a friend, and they worry about you. And, of course, Steve thinks you need to get laid." The last was said with a laugh.

"Steve thinks that of everyone." That came out as a growl.

"Well, yes, but he enjoys life, so he thinks everyone ought to. There are worse ways to be." She stood and headed for the door. "Seriously, Marcus, we're all behind you in this. And don't forget to put that invitation on your calendar!" With that, she let herself out.

Marcus dutifully reached for the envelope and reflected that he was in a bit better mood than he had been before. Although I have no idea how Positron hasn't killed Synapse yet. It's a good thing they're friends.

****

The next morning, Justin found Steve and Ray in the base lab, having coffee in front of a computer and bickering. Steve waved his hand at the spreadsheet on the screen and said, "No, Ray, look..."

Justin laughed. "Give it up, Steve. The geeks might inherit the Earth, but the accountants will keep them in pocket money." The archer helped himself to a cup of coffee, and then leaned against the doorframe. "So, since I only found out last night, I'm assuming you haven't heard our fearless leader's criteria for a girlfriend?" At their negative responses, he grinned. "Well, Shalice told me that he's looking for a high-leveled super with a good sense of self and a lot of confidence - and apparently we get to help set him up."

Ray looked doubtful. Steve got an unholy grin of glee on his face. "Oh, that's just too good..."

Justin interrupted before Steve could get too carried away, "Shalice will be vetting our suggestions before taking them to the boss-man, so whatever you're thinking, don't."

Steve's face fell for a moment. "Damn."

"You still know a lot of women, Steve." Ray pointed out. "What about that one who was chasing you around at the reception you dragged me to a few days ago - that blonde, what was her name?"

"Evvy... no, Ivy... Ivy, something."

"Ivy Snow?" The name came from Justin.

"Yeah, that's the one. She kept asking me to tell her stories about things we've done."

"I've met her before. She frequently winds up at charity events as someone's date. She should be a nice, safe first date for States. I'll let Shalice know." The archer pushed off the doorframe and went in search of his wife. Steve and Ray exchanged glances after he'd left.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"You think should I warn States that Ivy has very adventuresome - and cold - hands?"

"Would you warn me?"

"Probably not."

"Well, there you go then. Now get out of my lab, I have work to do."

*****

"And in other news today, Statesman was once again on the scene in what is commonly known as The Fuse district of Boomtown. The iconic hero was caught on camera using large, steel beams to demolish some of the more dangerously leaning buildings. No comment was forthcoming from the Freedom Phalanx headquarters on why Statesman has recently been assisting with demolition duties, but City Representative Brighid Moreira did say..."

"Huh. I wonder what's gotten into States. From the watcher's reports coming in, that's the fifth time in three weeks." Toby aimed one of his backpack-legs at the monitor on the far wall and the volume dropped precipitously, causing him to frown. "Not quite right, signal strength's still too strong. Spy, could you hand me the screwdriver by your elbow?" He waited a moment, glancing over at the silver-haired young woman who was frowning at her computer screen. "Spyder?" He sighed, and leaned over for the screwdriver, then tried getting her attention a different way, "Hey, Rata!"

As he knew she would, Silver Spyder looked up with a glare; but to his surprise it faded without comment and she went back to studying her screen intently. After rapidly checking the building's security monitors, he leaned over to peer across the top of her head. "What are you working on?"

"The file on Dina," she answered absently. "Doctor Jackson pointed out that I should cross-reference other persons of interest in Paragon to make sure that the information in the file is consistent with what Arachnos would want to have before it goes in there. Turns out, Dina already had a small file - she tangled with Sands once, and his bruised ego insisted she get one - so we won't have to insert her, just the information. But if I had put it in there the way I had it arranged before, it would have been obvious that it was altered. Banestar wouldn't have liked that in the least." Spyder stopped typing and stretched. "There. I think it's done now. Take a look." Sliding out of the chair, Spyder moved to the monitoring stations and left the space for Toby.

Toby read over the file and, when he had finished, leaned back. "Huh. How much of that is true?"

"All of it." Spyder sounded smug.

"So your sister is a trained assassin who serves the patron Goddess of thieves, is destined to be the leader of a clan full of assassins, thieves and wet-work specialists, and is following a prophecy to take over the world, starting by killing the man who is largely considered the world's first modern hero?"

Spyder laughed, "Well, it all depends on how you look at it, doesn't it? Dina has the same training I do. She doesn't use it the same way, but yes, it's fundamentally assassin's training. Ratri is the Goddess of the Night. The temple worships her for dreams, but some of the Maryanni invoke her protection when they're working thefts and night operations, as well. You already know about the Prophecy, and killing Statesman is why she's in Paragon City. At least in theory - I doubt she actually intends to do so. Personally, I suspect she's looking for allies and ways to get rid of Endaruta. But yes, it's all absolutely true - from a certain point of view."

"But what's it supposed to accomplish? Arachnos won't care." Toby eyed Spyder suspiciously. He was used to every mood from her except relatively calm cheerfulness, and her current state of relaxation was almost disturbing.

"It's not for Arachnos, though. I mean, yeah, it's going to be in their system, but that's just for veracity. It's for Longbow. Or Wyvern. Or both, maybe. It all depends on how things go when the time is right."

"And what will that accomplish?" Toby began to slowly, mentally count in hexadecimal. He was rapidly becoming certain he preferred hyperactive Spyder to smug Spyder.

Spyder grinned and spun the chair at the monitor station in circles. "When the time is right, Wyvern, or Longbow, or both, is going to have a "leak" to the media of a confidential file regarding a highly respected hero. That file will be a recently recovered Arachnos file that indicates a previously unsuspected but suspicious background, and will indicate a recommendation that the background be scrubbed and the hero be warned and rehabilitated."

Toby looked at Spyder for a long moment. "Rata, you do realize that there are a lot of rehabilitated heroes in Paragon City? One more isn't going to make a single bit of difference."

Spyder stretched. "Oh, I know. And I don't really care about what anyone else thinks. But she will, and having all of this go public will throw her. She'll be off her stride, because she won't have expected it. She'll have to clean up the mess. The people who've grown to trust her, and who she's grown to trust, will have to rebuild some of that - and it might just cause them to hesitate at the perfect time. Plus, as a bonus, having a small outcry that Longbow - or Wyvern, but I'm really leaning toward Longbow - was hiding something like this in an attempt to start a cover-up will be a tiny little scandal that will cause a tiny little bit of chaos. And if that's timed properly, Banestar will be able to use that to his advantage in his plans. Every little bit of chaos helps... and I'm all for chaos. Just because it's not big doesn't mean it doesn't make me happy."

"Ah." Toby turned back to the computer, "In that case, let me work on getting into the system. I have few back doors I can use, and with just a little bit of effort... there. It's done." The large man was surprised to feel slender arms wrap around his shoulders in a brief hug, but before he could react, she was gone again, sitting once more in front of the monitors and humming happily to herself. He shook his head and went back to working on fine-tuning the controls in the backpack legs.

*****

Marcus woke slowly and stared in the dark toward the ceiling for a moment before sighing and looking at the clock beside the bed. The red numbers glowed 4:27, and he reached out to turn off the alarm - he wasn't going to get back to sleep tonight. Knowing it was futile, he tried to bring the details of his dreams to mind; after a few minutes, he gave up in frustration, got out of bed, and began his day.

There was nothing he could do about the dreams. They weren't all about fighting now; he no longer woke from all of them with adrenaline pumping through his system. Most of them were calm, leaving him with a sense of comfort he'd been missing for years. The one thing he was absolutely certain of was that there was one person through all of them, and it was that person he wanted to remember.

Moving silently through the house so that he wouldn't wake Alexis, Marcus grabbed his jacket and let himself out. Without changing into his uniform he was effectively anonymous in the early morning hour, and that suited him just fine right now. The previous night had been another of the seemingly endless dates in the ongoing attempt to find a suitable companion; he caught himself clenching his teeth at the thought and forced himself to take deep breaths to relax. At least the woman last evening had been a good conversationalist; he thought that he would look forward to meeting her at future events, but they had both realized before the first course had finished that neither was interested in the other.

After a moment's consideration, he set off for the docks in Independence Port. He wanted a chance to look over the new battleship in dock before boarding it to welcome the Admiral to Paragon later in the day, but just as importantly, there were always thugs skulking about. Having a chance to work off some of his frustrations on some of Paragon City's low-life residents would help insure he maintained an even temper for the rest of the day. The way things had been going recently, he was pretty sure he'd be glad of it later.

*****

Cende landed on the dock beside Andrea Blake in the bright morning light and looked up at the imposing battleship. "That's new."

"It pulled in yesterday. There's an Admiral on board that's been dispatched as part of a Joint Chiefs task force on the Praetorians." Joelle Wright stepped forward from speaking with Ray Sharpe and Sorina Tavarisch. "We're here to welcome him and offer Star Patrol's support in his mission."

As they boarded the ship, Sharpe nudged Tavarisch with an elbow. "Hey, Tava, make sure to smile for the cameras." He indicated the group currently surrounding the admiral on the deck of the ship - including a figure in gleaming gold armor - that the press corps was busily photographing.

While Tavarish muttered imprecations in Russian, Wright stopped their group. "Why don't we wait here until the Phalanx has left? There's no sense in giving the press more fodder about Tava and Positron, and we're not in a hurry."

Cende's attention turned to the group ahead, intently focusing on the tall man in red and blue. Currently speaking to the admiral, Statesman was mostly in profile to her, but she had avoided him since the summer picnic and this was the first time in those two months she had seen him outside of her dreams. She studied him for a long moment, assuring herself that she remembered him clearly, then took a deep breath and turned away, only to find Andrea looking at her shrewdly.

"Him?" The psion asked quietly, with some surprise. "Really?"

Cende glanced to where the other three members of their group were continuing a previous discussion, then nodded briefly.

"It's not impossible, you know. He's dating now. We can arrange to introduce you."

"No." Cende's response was quiet and somehow sad. "I told you before, it can't ever be."

Andrea frowned. "Cende, what I felt from you wasn't just a crush on an idol, and it's not something that happens overnight. What's going on?"

Cende shook her head and sighed, "I cannot explain. It's -"

"Don't you dare say it's one of your temple mysteries!" Andrea interrupted.

One of Cende's strange, quick smiles flashed across her face. "Very well then, I won't. But I will say that it would appear that it is our turn now, and we should join the others."

Andrea threw up her hands in exasperation, "I'm going to get an answer out of you one of these days."

Cende's answer drifted quietly down as she fell in behind the smaller woman, "Yes."

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 37.

Pausing at the tunnel leading out of the cavern, Cende paused to take a last look around. She had said goodbye to the others already and it was time to leave, but she was reluctant to head back into the world. Davos, walking with her, pulled her into a sympathetic hug.

"I hate sending you back out there, but you've got a job to do."

"I know. It's just... It's hard out there, Davos. We're very sheltered here and it's going to be a difficult change for all of us when we're not anymore."

Davos nodded, then stepped back and faced her. "Dina, before you go, there's something unpleasant that you should know." He took a deep breath, the shook his head. "There's no way to say this well. It's Rinchen. She's been taken by Endaruta as his... body girl."

Cende's eyes opened wide. "What? She's a senior acolyte of Ratri, how could he ask for her?"

"He didn't ask. She turned up missing. It took us three days to find her, and by then... He's had a long time to perfect his technique. At least he'll find her a husband when he's done with her."

Closing her eyes, Cende fought her temper. "I have never before actually wanted to kill someone," she whispered. "I want him dead, Davos. It's frightening, but I want him dead. And I have the knowledge and means to do it."

Davos wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close again. "But do you have the will?"

"Not yet." Cende held on to Davos tightly, shaking in contained fury. "It won't take much more, though." Stepping back, she looked at her friend and nodded tightly. "I need to go before I do something rash. Take care, Davos. Stay safe."

"Be careful out there, Dina. And hold on to your faith. I think things will be changing soon."

Cende nodded and left the cavern under the temple, heading back to the outside world.

*****

Nearly thirty hours after leaving the temple, Cende stepped through the Star Patrol base portal. Sharpe, crossing through the entry room, stopped in concern, "You look like hell. Scratch that, you look like hell that's been frozen and defrosted again."

Cende mustered a tired smile. "If I understand you properly, that's what I feel like. I was just checking in to let people know I made it back safely. I'll be available for duty after I've gotten some sleep."

"Go home," Sharpe ordered. "Take no less than forty-eight hours, and if you're not up to 100-percent, call in and take another day."

"Yes sir." Cende gave half a salute and stepped back through the portal, relieved to be heading home.

*****

Marcus' next week didn't seem to be any better. Heaven only knew what expression he'd had on his face when he'd walked in to the office, wet from flying in through the rain; his assistant hadn't even tried to start the routine. Sometime between when he walked in and when he turned on his computer, his schedule for the day - which had been full when he'd left the night before - had been completely cleared. He didn't mind missing the weekly press conference; he just wished he could be sure there wasn't an implied but rightly deserved rebuke in the rescheduling.

Numina's words to him had been playing repeatedly through his head. You should find someone. Being alone isn’t safe for you. He didn’t want someone else; he still loved Monica. Besides, opening up to someone else, caring for her... even if he never loved her, it would still hurt when he inevitably lost her, whether to old age, to one of his many enemies, or even just to someone who could give her everything that he couldn't. It was more logical to be alone, eschewing companionship and watching over the world as a guardian.

He remained distracted through most of the Phalanx's status meeting, completely missing the look Psyche gave first to him, then to Manticore, and only barely noticing when Manticore stepped up to run the meeting for him. Good. The kid's settling down, he'll become a decent leader. His eyes roved over these people, still so young to his eyes, even though they were some of the strongest heroes in the city, and reflected that he'd miss them when they were gone. Gone... he sat up, bringing the attention of everyone at the table onto him.

"Where are Back Alley Brawler and Citadel?" he asked, trying to recall the last time he'd seen them in the base.

Everyone else at the table looked at each other, before Synapse spoke up "Chile, boss, remember? Earthquakes and flood? They went to go help dig out."

Marcus rubbed his hand across his eyes, and let the 'boss' pass for once. "Oh. Right." He'd known that, hadn't he? "When are they due back?"

Manticore consulted the terminal in front of him. "Brawler's flying back tonight, but the last upload from Citadel indicates that he's going to stay down there for a little while longer to help them with some planning. He’ll probably be another two weeks."

Marcus nodded, and leaned back in his chair, then raised an eyebrow at the others. "Was there something else?" he asked, gruffly. At the negative chorus that ran around the table, he stood. "Well, I'm sure we all have someplace else to be."

A quick trip into his office to change from the Statesman uniform and into a suit and he was once more just plain Marcus Cole. Shrugging into his overcoat and hat, he stepped out of the building, relatively anonymous, and made his way to a small cemetery. Approaching his wife's grave, he was startled to find a tiny bundle of purple hyacinth placed in the holder to one side, with no indication of where it came from.

"Hmm. Well, darling, it looks like you have a new admirer." Marcus bent, and carefully brushed dirt off the stone, then checked for weeds. His voice was low as he continued to speak, finding comfort in remembering his wife's voice through their many conversations. Slowly, he laid out his discussion with Numina, and his thoughts on remaining alone... and in his mind's ear, he could hear her scolding him.

Marcus Cole! It's been years. You can't hold on to me forever. You're alive, you need to wake up and live. I never wanted you to pine away for me.

Resting his hand on the headstone - when had he stood? - he quietly answered the voice in his memory, "I love you, Monica... but perhaps holding on so tightly isn't honoring you. You always were more practical than I was. I miss you." He patted the stone and sighed, before turning away. "I miss you."

On his way back to the office, he picked up flowers and a coffee for his assistant as an apology. He still wished he could be certain there hadn't been a quiet rebuke in that schedule clearing.

*

Later that evening as he sat reading, his daughter came in holding out a necklace.

"Dad," she started, "I can't get the clasp on this -"

Marcus smiled, and stood, taking the necklace from her. "You look lovely. What's the occasion, and will I approve of him?"

Alexis laughed. "If you don't approve of Laurence by now, you're not going to start anytime soon. He's escorting me to the hospital fundraising ball. Thank you." She turned to face her father. "You seem... calmer... now than you have been recently. Are things getting better?"

Marcus placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Perhaps, yes. I am sorry for my behavior recently; you haven't done anything to deserve it." He paused and looked at her. "Alexis, how would you feel if I began to date?"

"Date?" Her face and voice were startled for a moment. "Well... I've never really considered it. After Mom, you always seemed to be rather closed off." She sank down onto the sofa and considered her father for a moment, then gave a little laugh. "I think it might be good for you, and I'd like to see you happy. Why did it come up now, though, have you met someone?"

"No. And I have no idea how to go about meeting someone, to be honest. It came up... in another conversation. Incidentally, have you had, or has Jessie mentioned having, any prophetic dreams?" He attempted to keep his voice casual for the last question, but the surprise was back on her face.

"Prophetic dreams? Dad, what is going on?" Just then, the doorbell rang. "Oh, hell. I have to go, but when I come back, you're going to explain all of this. Dating and prophecy, really." Alexis stood and kissed her father's cheek, then went out the door.

Marcus watched Alexis' retreating back, and hummed. "That could have gone better." In this she took after her mother: she'd corner him and badger him until he told her something. He wandered into the kitchen to find dinner, considering precisely what he was going to tell her when she got home.

*****

In the end, he decided not to simply avoid the conversation by going to bed early; for one thing, it wasn't really that complex a subject, and for another, he was fairly certain she would have just ambushed him in the morning before he was quite awake. As a result, when Alexis walked into the house, she found her father waiting for her with a pot of mint tea steaming on the kitchen counter.

She paused in the kitchen door, and smiled. "You used to make mint tea for Mom when she was harassing you about something and you decided to give in and tell her."

"I also used to make mint tea for you when you had a stomachache, and if I properly recall those hospital charity dinners, you should be feeling faintly queasy just about now." At her mild grimace of agreement, he poured two mugs, and motioned to the table. "Just for the record, your mother never harassed me. She was simply very persistent and stubborn when she wanted something. Qualities that your daughter seems to have inherited in full, I might add."

"Mom's not the only one she got those qualities from, you know."

"I? No, no, I am imminently tractable and reasonable." At her snort of laughter, he smiled. "That's better. Now, about earlier - seriously, the dating thing came up as part of a different conversation. It was... hmm... suggested to me that I should find companionship. "

"For any particular reason other than the ongoing worsening of your mood?"

"Zeus."

Alexis waited for more, then realized none was forthcoming and sipped her tea as she considered the single word. She was in mid-sip when the answer occurred to her, and the subsequent inhalation of tea caused Marcus to lean over her in concern until she stopped choking. She looked at him with wide eyes, "Well. I don't suppose that occurred to any of us before, had it? But yes, I can see why it might be a problem." She thought about it a moment more then added, "I suppose that has something to do with the prophecy part, too?"

Marcus nodded. "Apparently Zeus was able to gave some prophecies. More to the point, however, several of his children inherited the ability. It's remotely possible that you or Jessie could have picked up some ability along those lines, but that it might not come out until it was needed."

With a shake of her head, his daughter sighed, "No. I can only think that if it were going to happen to me, it would have already. There have been more than enough events in our lives to trigger something like that. I will keep an eye on Jessie, though." She eyed him a little more closely. "However, that doesn't answer why it's come up now, of all times..."

"I've had a few dreams, that's all. I can't remember them, but they've been annoyingly consistent, and they've been waking me up for the last few weeks. Numina is asking around, to see if any of the real foreseers have been getting anything. Personally, I have a feeling it's just ongoing indigestion."

"Well, that would explain your mood for the last month. Hmm," she considered for a moment, recalling the latest Freedom Corps reports that she had been reading. "Perhaps it's yet another version of you turning up through Portal Corp? You could be resonating in a negative way."

"Perhaps." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter, really. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out and deal with it."

"Well, of course. And the bigger it is, the more of us will show up to help out, as always." They sipped their tea in companionable silence for a few more minutes, before Alexis spoke again, "Dad... about dating. I don't really know what to tell you on how to meet women, but I do know this. If you're serious about finding someone as a real companion and not just having an occasional fling, you need to think about what you want. You have a lot of experience and a strong personality; add your personal legend to that, and you're just a little overwhelming to a lot of women." She stood, and took her cup to the sink, then returned and kissed Marcus on the cheek. "It might take a while to find someone, but I believe you will be happier for it. And you're far too powerful a man to be miserable; it could twist you up badly and that won't end well for anyone." She smiled and wished him a good night, then made her way down to her half of the house they shared.

Marcus was left sitting in the kitchen, wondering if his daughter had recently developed her mother's insight to go along with the previously formed persistence, or if he'd simply never noticed it before.

*****

Cende lagged behind the rest of the team as they left the warehouse, still not quite used to being back from her trip to Nepal and two days of rest. She gave Talek a startled glance as she stepped in beside her and quietly commented, "Interesting thing you have going on with your eyes now."

Double-checking the dark glasses she habitually wore with her uniform, Cende replied, "What do you mean?"

"Glasses are still there, but they don't block the fact that instead of just turning black when you fight, your eyes now glow. Don't have to even lose the glasses or have 'em break to see it. The more you do, the brighter it gets. It's been happening ever since you got back from your trip last week." He shrugged. "I figure it goes along with your newfound ability to wrap the person running away from you in shadows."

Cende sighed, "I was hoping nobody had noticed that yet. I'm still figuring out how it all works."

"So it is new." Talek glanced ahead to where the rest of the team was talking with the police releasing the cordon around the just-cleared warehouse, then back to Cende. "How did all these changes come about?"

"Gifts from the Goddess. Well, the new abilities are, at any rate. I suspect the eyes may be more of a mark of ownership than a gift." Cende's tone was wry. "There's not much I can do about the eyes, however, and I'll learn control of the new abilities soon enough. Unless these new powers change something in a major way, however, I don't see any reason to alter what I've been doing." She sighed as her communicator chirped, and she pulled it out to look at it. "That apparently includes heading back to base for reassignment. Please convey my apologies to the others?"

Cende watched Talek rejoin the team, then headed off to the nearest base portal and made a mental note to ask Davos next time she saw him what the glowing eyes meant. She didn't mind so much being Ratri's Chosen, but she did rather wish that her Goddess wasn’t quite so obviously possessive.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

-------------------------

Chapter 36.

Cende knocked on the office door and stepped inside as Commander Bowman waved her in. "You wanted to see me?"

Not looking up from the papers he was reading, Bowman nodded. "You've put in a request for a five day leave starting tomorrow. We'd appreciate it if you could take it starting Thursday instead - We have an event we need to provide security for, and your skills are needed."

Cende shook her head, "I'm sorry, Commander Bowman, but this is a religious ceremony I've been specifically directed to appear for. I don't actually have a choice in the timing, and I wasn't given much more notice myself. As it is, with the travel times, I'll barely make it."

Tossing the folder he was looking through onto his desk, Bowman crossed his arms and gave the young woman a stern look. "You're saying you're going back to Nepal? You came back in terrible shape last time; will it be that bad this time, too?"

"Probably," Cende admitted, "but I don't know for certain. I haven't been informed what the ceremony is for, just that I have to be there for it. Most of the exhaustion is from the travelling, however, and there's no getting around that."

"You should take someone with you. It'd be safer if you had a partner to watch your back."

"They wouldn't be permitted to travel with me all the way to the temple. I appreciate your concern, but I have to go alone. I won't be gone the entire time in any case; I left myself time to recover. I'll check in when I've returned."

Bowman nodded reluctantly. "Just be careful, and call if you need help. We'll get to you wherever you are."

Cende gave a quick smile of thanks and left. This trip, unlike the last one, was to be made without Endaruta's knowledge and she needed to get back to her apartment before Davos' astral form arrived with her final instructions on the trip. She wondered if he'd finally tell her what the purpose of the ceremony was tonight; he'd been very secretive about it since ordering her home, saying only that it was Ratri's desire. The next major holy observance was three weeks away and there were no minor observances she could remember, so this was something special. Given her decision of three weeks before to set aside the Prophecy she wasn't entirely certain she trusted a surprise from her Goddess, but she was still a Priestess and she would obey the Speaker. Deep in her heart, she held tight to the hope that this time she would come home with answers.

*****

Marcus Cole was growling, and he knew it. He growled at his breakfast when it took too long to cook, he growled at his assistant in the Freedom Corps offices when she tried to start the Wednesday morning routine, he'd even growled at his daughter and granddaughter when they'd passed him in the hallway. Now he wanted to start growling at the other members of the Freedom Phalanx - Positron had brought something in from his workshop and was tinkering with it at the conference table, Synapse and Manticore were discussing last night's baseball game at the University, while Numina and Psyche were... he decided he didn't want to know what they were giggling about. They sounded like schoolgirls. Abruptly, startling even himself, he'd had enough.

"IF we could start," he roared, "we might actually get something useful done today!" Great, a little voice in the back of his head jeered, from growling to roaring. What's next, oh bestial one, rending and tearing?

The meeting had progressed remarkably quickly after that point, however.

Marcus left the conference room behind as soon as he reasonably could, aware of the relief that filled his wake. Without really thinking about it, he slipped into his private office - a small room, filled with mementos of his travels around the world. Here, he was able to reflect back on his life. Here, he would be mostly undisturbed.

Here, he could remember his Monica, without others intruding. He reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out a slim album, large hand smoothing over the leather cover. Each motion had the sense of long ritual about it - opening the album, tracing the line of each photograph, the places where his eyes and hands rested while he remembered the moments, the days, the years he had with his love. He hesitated before turning the last page, then placed the album flat on the desk, the aged newspaper obituary centered on the final sheet. He laid his hand over the article, and sighed quietly.

A slim, pale hand covered his, and he glanced up. "Shalice... oh, Numina. I didn't hear you come in." He had been expecting Psyche, but the Phalanx's least corporeal member rarely sought him out.

Numina smiled gently, "I don't use doors," she answered with mild humor. "Shalice and Justin are talking. With any luck, they'll come to a compromise." She looked down at the album beneath the large man's hand. "Shalice could tell something was wrong, but not what and it didn't seem like that. There's something else - what's wrong?" She appeared to settle into a chair across from him, and waited patiently.

Marcus leaned back and closed his eyes. He was aware of a slight, lingering resentment towards the ethereal woman. While it wasn't fair, he also understood that it was only human to wish that his wife had been the one given the chance to exist out of time, alongside him. It was a long moment before he spoke, but his deep voice finally rolled out quietly, holding an edge that few people ever heard. "It is that, of course, always, under everything else. Monica was the best part of me." He straightened up, and closed the album, slipping it away into its drawer before fixing the woman across from him with a steady look. "You're right though, there is more. I've been..." he paused, then grimaced and continued, "dreaming."

Numina leaned forward, a concerned look on her face. "Please, go on."

"Honestly, there's not much to go on to. I know I'm dreaming, and then I wake up. All I'm left with is the impression of something dark, something deadly and dangerous, coming to the city, and that there's a handful of us fighting it." He shrugged. "I remember absolutely nothing about it. Except -"

"Except what?"

"Except that there's someone who's fighting beside me. It's always the same person, and I have no idea who that person is." He shook his head. "It's just a dream. Bothersome, but it doesn’t mean anything."

An odd look passed over Numina's face. "I wouldn't pass it off quite so quickly, actually. You are the incarnate of Zeus, after all."

"And?"

"Well, he's not exactly known for giving out prophecies, although he did give three in the Iliad. However, he does grant favored individuals the ability to foresee the future, and some of his children were prophets, as well."

Marcus looked alarmed. "I have no intention of becoming some sort of Oracle!"

"I don't expect you will, or you probably would have already. I'm just saying that you shouldn't discount these dreams. I'm certainly not going to. Listen, I'll talk with people I know, see if anyone else is getting a sense of something coming, all right?" Seeing his expression, she hastened to add, "I'll leave your name out if it entirely." He nodded reluctantly and she stood.

Pausing by the door, the ghostly woman seemed to steel herself, although her voice remained gentle. "On the other subject, though... Marcus, it's been years. You need some sort of companionship. I'm not saying that you should fall in love again, but maybe you should, perhaps... find someone..." Pale hands fluttered awkwardly, trying to convey everything she couldn't bring herself to say. "It's just that, all things considered, being alone may not be safe for you." With that, Numina slipped out and left her colleague to his considerations.

****

Positron carefully tightened the small screw on the gauntlet he held in his hand and checked the connection. Knowing it was useless, he still said over his shoulder, "Steve, sit down."

In the lab behind him, Synapse was fidgeting with three piles of parts. The fact that the piles were in different areas of the room bothered him considerably less than it bothered his best friend, but he came to a stop for a few moments anyway. It was Positron's lab, after all. "It's just that he's getting worse. Some of the kids in the Corps are actually a little afraid of him."

That was enough to grab Positron's attention, and he swiveled to face his partner. "Afraid of Statesman? Why?"

"Oh, c'mon Ray, you saw him! He's always scowling and snapping at least a little these days. Most of the kids we get in the Corps aren't that strong, and he's one of the biggest guns we've got. He could easily send one of them through a wall without thinking about it if he just lost his temper a little, and they know it."

"Yeah, but he wouldn't do that."

"I know, but he's wound tight, man, and he's got to relax or he's going to explode. I never thought I'd see someone who needs to get laid worse than you do."

"God, Steve, is that your answer to everything?" Ray shook his head and turned back to his worktable.

"No, but you have to admit, it does help a lot."

All Positron said aloud as he started back on his gauntlet was, "Why don't you go ask Psyche what she thinks?"

****

Cende stepped through into the cavern under the temple and was immediately enveloped in a hug. "It's good to see you safe," Pema whispered to her. "We were worried about you coming through. We only recently got the veil-walkers able to cross consistently."

Nodding, Cende returned the hug. "It was a little rough, but we made it. Are you sure it's safe to cross again so soon for me to get out?"

Pema smiled. "That's one thing we're certain we've managed to get right, because we've had so long to work on it. Anyone crossing looks like a bear, a deer, or a goat to the veil watchers. We still don't want to do it too often, but it's safe enough for occasional use." The older priestess stepped back and looked to one side. "Davos is waiting for you; I'd best not detain you any longer."

Moving over to join the Speaker where he stood by the end of the cavern, Cende saw that the acolyte next to him carried a set of robes for her. "Papahai Dina," Davos acknowledged her gravely and formally.

"Speaker Davos," she responded as she bowed respectfully to him, "as I was summoned, so do I come."

Davos motioned the acolyte forward. "Follow the acolyte to the room prepared for you. Bathe, eat and drink, then meditate until the time of the ritual. Once you leave here, you may not speak until you come before the Goddess and no one will speak to you. You will be led to the temple when it is time."

Cende bowed again, "As you command, Speaker, so will it be done." Turning, she followed the acolyte out to the warren beyond and into the small, nearly barren room that was set aside for her preparations.

Once she had bathed and changed into the robes provided, she sank down onto the hard stone and began to search her memory for any hint of what the evening's ritual might be. So far, it had some of the same elements of elevation to Speaker, but that was impossible - there was only ever one Speaker at a time, and Davos was still alive and well. Additionally, as far as she remembered, the one chosen for Speaker was aware of the choice in advance and given time to make any necessary arrangements for the upcoming changes in their life, whereas she still had no idea what was happening.

When a senior priestess arrived several hours later, Cende was even more confused - priestesses, especially senior ones, were not sent to lead supplicants to the Goddess. When the woman led her down deeper into the warren rather than up to the temple proper, Cende finally resigned herself to finding out what was going on as it happened.

The senior priestess approached a rough-cut stone door. Despite its appearance, the door swung easily open at her touch, and she motioned Cende in. Once inside, Cende looked about and stopped short, scarcely allowing the woman behind her to enter as the door swung closed again and blocked all light from the hallway beyond.

The room was small, barely holding the two dozen senior priests and priestesses kneeling in curved rows, a single, narrow aisle running straight up the middle between them. A statue of Ratri stood at the far end of the room, standing as tall as the room itself, holding a pitcher carved out of the back wall. From the pitcher flowed a single stream of water, trickling down into a basin carved into the shape of an opening jasmine flower. The flower overflowed, and the water ran down to the floor and out of sight into a crack in the floor. Steady mage-lights, pale imitations of the stars, hung in woven threads from the ceiling above, providing a dim, nighttime illumination to the chamber. One large light, shaped as a waning moon, crested Ratri's head as a diadem and cast its light down onto small altar beside her where the Speaker waited.

Davos gave Cende a moment to look then motioned her forward. She stepped carefully down the narrow aisle, and as she passed each row, the priests began a soft chant praising the Goddess. When she came to a stop before him, Davos stepped forward and placed his hands on Cende's shoulders, pressing her down to kneel before the statue of the Goddess and her pitcher.

"Papahai Dina, Warrior Priestess of Ratri, did you enter the service of the Goddess of your own free will?"

"Speaker Davos, I did." Cende reflected with relief that at least this ceremony did not require her hands and eyes to be bound.

"Papahai Dina, do you acknowledge that Ratri has blessed you with her gifts?"

Cende was quiet a moment. She had no difficulty answering the question, but she couldn't see where this was going. "Speaker Davos, I do."

Davos' voice became grave, and there was weight to his normally light tones. "Papahai Dina, you who have offered free service and received blessings and gifts, do you now pledge obedience to the Goddess Ratri?"

Cende looked up at Davos and studied his face. His expression was solemn, giving nothing away, and she wildly wondered for a moment if that's how he normally saw her. She tried to understand what he meant by obedience to the Goddess, but with nothing else to go on, she could only guess. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind, then softly replied, "Speaker Davos, I do pledge my obedience to the Goddess Ratri."

Taking a cup from the altar, Davos filled it from the water flowing out of the Goddess' pitcher. Holding it to Cende's lips, he quietly directed her to drink. When she had drained the cup, he handed her a different one from the altar, and instructed her to drink that as well. As she drank the second cup she realized it was the strongest version of dreaming wine the temple made and she handed the empty cup back to him unsteadily. As he took the cup, his eyes glowed and his voice rang like a bell in the small room, "Papahai Dina, Chosen of Ratri, go now to face your Goddess."

A pallet was brought forward from the back of the room, and Davos guided her down onto it. "Sleep now Dina. It'll be all right," he whispered to her. "I'll watch over you, and I'll be here when you wake."

Cende's eyes closed and the world went dark.

*****

Opening her eyes was a bit of an experience. The white mist surrounding her seemed to gleam and she couldn't swear that it wasn't spinning as she sat up. This sense of vertigo elicited a soft "ooh..." from her, and she rubbed her forehead with one hand.

"Serves you right." The rich voice came from behind her, and Cende spun into a fighting crouch, facing the woman that spoke. "Oh, settle down. You couldn't hurt me even if you tried, and you won't try, so you might as well relax." Ratri reclined on a cushion of air, watching Cende with amusement. "It serves you right that you have a headache from the wine. You could have sought me out at any time just by using the dreaming wine, but you haven't in over two years. Now you can suffer a little."

Cende straightened and bowed formally. "My Lady. You generally expect us to figure out what you want without coming to you on every little detail; it never occurred to me to use the dreaming wine. For junior priestesses, it's not precisely a regular occurrence."

"You haven't been simply a junior priestess for quite some time and you know it." Ratri's response was idle but her eyes were sharp. Cende, acting on an inner prompting, closed her eyes and imagined herself sitting on her bed at home, crossing her legs and allowing herself to settle into the air. When she opened her eyes again, she was floating and Ratri was smiling. "Very good. Now, however, it would be very helpful for you to remember our last conversation."

Nearly losing her balance in the air, Cende put her hands to her temples as the memory came rushing back to her. Shaking her head to clear it, she looked back up at the Goddess, "You've been protecting me, haven't you? Some of those close calls...?"

Ratri nodded, "Endaruta very subtly tried to alter the Mastery Trial by boosting the abilities of your opponents. You should have died. If I hadn't already imbued you, you would have. There've been a few other times since then, but you're hard to kill now. It's been a slow process because you're more use to me at the moment if I give you the power gradually." She smiled grimly, "And you'll be even harder to kill after tonight, as well."

"What about the Prophecy? Is it true? Is it about me, and Rata, and what does it mean?"

Ratri laughed. "The Prophecy is a way to get people moving. It could have meant any number of things at the time it was given and it could mean any number of things now. The time of your birth was right to make changes to the Maryanni and the world, and there were enough pieces in place that fit the pattern of the Prophecy. By invoking the thing, I could make sure that the situations I wanted to set off were started. Nothing that happens next is set in stone. You are no more bound by the thing than a cat is."

Cende dropped her hands into her lap and studied them for a long moment, then looked up. "And the dreams of Marcus? Are they just a way to get me moving?"

The voice of the Goddess gentled as she smiled at the young woman. "My dear girl, you have no idea how very much I want you and that man together. Have faith; I am working on him as well. It may take a little while to connect you, but it will eventually happen, and you have time. You both have time."

There was quiet for several minutes, then in a low voice, Cende admitted, "I am running out of faith. I don't know what to do next or who to trust. Everything is confusing and it all runs together in a garish blend of color and noise. I'm afraid I may be failing you."

In the blink of an eye, Ratri was behind Cende, reclining back on air and pulling the young woman back against her. "You have not yet failed me. Trust in yourself, trust in your beloved. Your next actions will be clear when it's time to make them. Rest now, and trust in me."

Cende sighed, and leaned against the voluptuous form of her Goddess. As she began to sleep, she heard softly, "Forget now. Remember only that you are my Chosen and I am with you." She felt a soft kiss on her head, and then there was nothing else.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 35.


Sitting on the floor with her guitar on her lap, Cende looked around her apartment and sighed softy. It might be an ancient, miniscule basement studio, but it was all hers. No one would come in at odd hours, demanding her presence. No sounds of training drifted in from the courtyard - although, she reflected, gunshots, shouts, and horns honking aren't much of an improvement there. Nobody lurked in the hallways, waiting for her to emerge - either to ask for a favor, or to spy on as favor for someone else. No, the apartment was all hers - and she felt so lonely and out of place that she shocked herself.

Emma and Frank's wedding had been accomplished two months prior and she was relieved to find that all she was expected to do as maid of honor was to stand next to Emma and hold the flowers when Emma's hands were otherwise busy. She had declined to attempt to catch the flowers when they had been tossed out; Mrs. Purdue had been kind enough to explain that custom ahead of time, and since Cende had no plan to ever marry, she thought she would leave the attempt to those women who did.

Shortly after Emma and Frank had left, Jack and Teddy received approval to adopt twin toddlers. Teddy resigned from Longbow to take care of the children, and the small family had recently moved to a house in the suburbs near Teddy's family. She was pleased for them, but she found she missed having people to talk to.

If she were honest with herself, she could admit that there was likely someone in the base willing to do something with her. Two of the newest members had come to the Patrol through her contacts - the first had been Tamara's brother, Michael Henderson, who had approached her after Emma's wedding asking for an introduction to the Star Patrol leaders. The neurological psychiatrist had transferred to Paragon University Medical Center after Tamara's death and he was now also acting as both a hero and a psychiatrist for the Star Patrol.

The second new member she had brought in was still on probation. Talek was a security expert from an alternate dimension, and had been introduced to her by a mutual contact as someone looking for a good group. She had provided a contact to the Patrol leaders, and they had decided to give him a chance; the skills he brought to the table were proving useful in some of the Special Ops currently under way.

She considered her current options for a moment, wondering if someone coming off duty would explain to her the point behind television or be willing to try a new Italian restaurant with her. Of course, there was the problem that asking such things would require getting to know the other members more than superficially, and she still wasn't entirely certain that would be safe with these people. Star Patrol was a good group, but the people were both inquisitive and suspicious. Allowing any of them too close too soon could put the innocents in the Mitanni Valley at risk and that wasn't something she was prepared to gamble. Not yet, anyway.

Lifting her guitar back up, the quiet redhead focused back on the book in front of her, firmly chiding herself for borrowing trouble. Slowly, carefully, she once again began to pick out the chords to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."

*****

Several days later, Cende stood quietly in the shadows between two buildings, watching the event on the plaza below. She wasn't entirely certain what the function was - she was technically off-duty and Star Patrol had not been asked to provide extra security - but it featured officials from all over the world out in the open, and the Longbow on hand had not turned down her assistance. After she had put down a group of Hellions who were about to turn this gathering into a barbeque, the head of security had been more than happy to place her in one of the spots a single operative could cover.

Although on the surface the Cende appeared calm, below the façade were tumultuous thoughts. The Star Patrol is so diverse and yet so willing and able to work together. I like them, could perhaps even become friends with a few. Can I start to trust them? Will they help my people? How do I reach out and ask them, without seeming as if I have been using them?

Her eyes drifted across the scene below, constantly returning to a strong, sturdy figure in blue and red. Then there's him. He's in my dreams every night, but after a year here, I'm no closer to him now than I was when I arrived. If he is my heart's desire, how do I approach him? How will he know me? She sighed in frustration. She had too many questions and not enough answers, and Davos had been unable to provide any guidance.

Sensing more than hearing the approach of someone behind her, Cende tensed and turned, ready to fight if necessary. Tension fled to a brief smile as she recognized Talek.

"Warden Peters said you were helping out up here," the other said, referring to the head of security for the function. "He said to relay thanks, but they're moving into a contained space now and you can go. Good thing, too, since COUNTERMEASURES just called everyone in for a meeting, and you aren't answering your phone."

"I'm not?" Cende pulled out the small device and looked at it dubiously. "I think it stopped working." She handed it to Talek as she cast one final look to the plaza below and noted that the guests were in fact moving into the building.

Talek laughed as they walked toward the base portal. "It didn't stop working, you got it stuck in waiting to reboot mode. I'll fix it." He gave her a sideways glance and added, "Would you like to get something to eat after the meeting?"

Cende absently shook her head, still considering the questions occupying her thoughts. "Unfortunately, when COUNTERMEASURES calls an all-hands required meeting, there's usually very little after but work. Thank you, though." Reaching the portal, she stepped through, leaving Talek looking disappointedly after her.

*****

Guitar case in one hand and traveling altar in the other, Cende stepped into the Star Patrol base and headed toward the back of the base. Talek, going the other way, looked at her in surprise. "I thought you went home?"

"I did." Unusually for Cende, her face and voice showed traces of irritation. "My upstairs neighbor had a plumbing issue that flooded my apartment. I've been removed while they try to dry everything out."

"That's rough," the older man's tone was sympathetic. "You need help moving anything around?"

"No, thank you." Cende's irritation smoothed, and her brief smile appeared and vanished again. "This is everything but the books, furniture, and the clothing. The books were actually safe, and the clothing was all picked up by a dry cleaning service. I just need a room for the interim, and I came to see if any of the temporary quarters are available. "

Talek nodded and grinned. "Hey, I didn't know you play guitar. I play alto sax, what do you say we get together some time, see how a duet works out?"

Apparently oblivious, the young woman shook her head as she moved on toward her destination. "I can't honestly say I play the guitar... it's more like I torture it, really."

Talek's laughter followed her down the hallway.

*****

Over a week later, Cende was finally allowed back into her apartment. Mrs. Purdue had been apologetic about how long it had taken to complete the work, but said she thought Cende would rather like it.

"You are a good girl after all," the old woman said, as she led Cende around to the apartment door, "And so quiet. That flood was a blessing in disguise, really. I've been feeling guilty since you paid for two years all up front, but the apartment was so dingy. Now I've been able to do it up proper, fit for one of my heroes!"

Cende stepped into the apartment after her landlady and looked around in amazement. Gone was the ancient carpeting, replaced by a bamboo-over-cork floor (which, Mrs. Purdue was very pleased to tell her, was very green, using renewable resources as it did. It looked more golden-brown to her, but perhaps the wood had been green when it was cut). The wall had been painted a soft ivory, the cabinets had been refaced a clean, bright gray, and the ancient furniture had been replaced as well. The bed and loveseat were new, there was a matching chair, and the desk was no longer more scratch than surface. A tiny kitchen table, able to seat two, had been added as well. Only the built-in drawers and shelves remained the same, and those gleamed from a fresh sanding and sealing. The apartment seemed somehow brighter and slightly larger with the changes.

After looking around Cende gave a gentle hug to the old woman. "Mrs. Purdue, it's lovely. Thank you." Beaming, Mrs. Purdue patted Cende's hand and left.

Cende closed and locked the door, then picked up her guitar and altar. I'll want to get a couple of rugs. I never could stand having cold feet. She placed the guitar near the desk, and scanned her bookshelf quickly; as expected, the books were out of order and she would need to spend some time organizing again.

Crossing to the small, low table she had acquired to hold her altar, she placed the box down and unlocked it. She grew steadily graver as she laid out each piece with concentration and care, until everything was laid out and the covering cloth was arranged to her satisfaction. Sitting back on her heels, studied the altar for a long moment, then touched the box and opened a special compartment.

Reaching in, she pulled out a slim knife in a metal sheath. Atma blede, a soul blade, deadly and rare. Designed to kill immortals, the blade was made from a metal obtained from an ancient meteor and infused with spells at the time of forging. It was a complicated work, and one that far too many unscrupulous people would be after if they knew about it. She needed to find a safer place to keep it - until she finally found a way to destroy it.

Placing the blade back into its compartment, she locked the box and slid it under the table, then turned her attention to putting her home back to rights.

*****

"Is there anything else?" Statesman looked around the conference table at the other members of the Phalanx. At the general negative consensus, he continued, "then we're done. Don't forget about the Freedom Corps picnic in Hutchinson Park on Saturday - anyone who isn't bringing something to eat is expected to help with the pre-picnic Devouring Earth cleanup."

*****

"And that's it for this week." Eli Bowman finished the briefing. "Just a quick reminder about the Freedom Corps picnic in Hutchinson Park this Saturday - there's a signup sheet for the softball team in the Dispatch room, and we can still use a few people in the outfield. Anyone who isn't on duty should make a point to show up for at least a few minutes. It's a potluck, so either bring something to eat or put your name down for Devouring Earth cleanup during the event itself. All right, people, dismissed. Cende, could I see you for a moment before you go?"

Cende remained seated as the rest of the Star Patrol members currently marked as Available for Duty filed out of the room and Commander Bowman took the seat next to her.

"I have a specific assignment for you," he began. "Another bodyguard request, but this one's only for a few hours. The Crown Prince of Morocco is coming back in and he's requested you specifically. It seems you made an impression on him last time."

"I believe Nemesis made the impression, I just ensured it wasn’t a negative one," responded Cende. "Is it too much to hope that the Prince will be here during the picnic?"

"It is. He's here the afternoon before. His itinerary has been sent to your communicator; Helena is also printing it out in Dispatch for you." Bowman smiled slightly. "It's been just under a year since you joined us. Aside from your ongoing difficulties with technology, how are you doing?"

Cende smiled briefly, "I've been learning more than I ever expected here. The technology isn't so bad, although it seems to misbehave regularly. It has been interesting getting to know the people, as well."

Bowman nodded. "You've done well, and been a credit to the uniform - although I have to admit that I never expected to see a trench coat paired with the special ops red and black. I've been reviewing your files, and it's clear you've done a lot of solo work. You've also worked in teams, both as a member and a leader, and you've made an effort to lead in major offenses. You've worked with our allies in other groups, as well as with Vanguard and you've maintained connections in Longbow." He consulted the file in front of him. "In short, you've done everything expected of a Captain in Star Patrol. There's only one problem." He reached into a pocket, pulled out a small, slim box, and handed it to her.

Cende took the box warily, opening it slowly. "I wasn't aware there would be a problem."

"It's a small one. You've done everything expected of a Captain, but you weren't a Captain." He nodded to the box in her hand, "That's changed, effective immediately. Congratulations, Captain Cende." He stood, and held out his hand.

Cende looked down at the captain's insignia in the box, then stood and took the offered hand. "Thank you, sir," she responded softly.

******

Endaruta seethed and paced. Nothing was going to plan, and he could not pinpoint any one reason why. He was certain he knew whom, though. It was that damned girl's fault - Papahai Dina. He should have married her off to one of his advisors before she got out of hand, and then none of this would have happened.

He paused in his pacing and considered a moment. Perhaps it wasn't too late for that plan. Perhaps Tenzin or Vijeta could still be convinced to take her. Either one of them would be strong enough to control the headstrong girl, and if she could be made a proper wife, then everything could still be saved - and the Maryanni would not fall to the mercies of the insane Papahai Rata.

Endaruta began to smile. Yes. He would start in the morning, carefully luring the two men into his net, and this plan would not fail. He contemplated the pleasure he would take in his own private revenge.

*****

Listening to the sounds of merriment faintly floating from the other side of the trees, Cende shook her head. She had no idea there were quite so many people associated with Freedom Corps, but she supposed she shouldn't be surprised. She had arrived with other residents of her apartment, including Mrs. Purdue. After greeting a number of people she knew - including several members of Star Patrol - she found herself slipping toward the edge of the gathering, seeking a quiet spot away from the milling throngs in the main picnic area. A barely-noticed side path had led to a small clearing at the base of a tiny waterfall, and now she leaned back against a rock, turning her face up to the sun.

A few moments later, she stirred as she heard the sounds of footsteps enter the clearing, followed by a relieved sigh. Rolling to her knees, she propped her arms on the top of the rock and looked over to see who had just come into the clearing with her. A tall, blond man in a green shirt and khaki pants stood just inside the clearing, stretching his neck. She must have made a soft sound, because a moment later his blue eyes had found her and a polite expression was on his face.

"I'm apologize, I didn't realize anyone was here." His voice was as deep she remembered from her dreams and the few times she had allowed herself to listen to the weekly briefings.

"There's nothing to apologize for. I was hiding." She offered one of her small, quick smiles. "I think anyone who finds their way here must be hiding from the mob out there, but perhaps it would be all right to hide with one other person? There's room enough here for two."

This received a short laugh from him, and a more natural smile. "That is a mob out there, yes," he admitted. "If you don't mind sharing your hiding place, I could use a few minutes of peace." He took a seat on the grass of the clearing, looking up at the sky for a moment then back at Cende. "If we're going to share the clearing, you don't have to hide from me."

Cende gave another quick smile and moved out from behind the rock to join him on the grass, folding herself neatly down in front of him, saying silent prayers to Ratri the whole time. Now she finally had a chance to meet the man of her heart, and she had no idea what to say to him. She could only hope that it would all work out.

*

Marcus Cole was startled at the concept of hiding from the huge mass of Freedom Corps and associated groups, but if he were honest, he had to admit that's what he was doing. He laughed at himself, and gave the young woman a smile. "That is a mob out there, yes," he admitted. "If you don't mind sharing your hiding place, I could use a few minutes of peace." He took a seat on the grass of the clearing, looking up at the sky and wishing he could just fly away instead. Glancing back at the shy woman behind the rock, he gently coaxed her out, "If we're going to share the clearing, you don't have to hide from me."

Her serious expression lightened for a moment, then she stood and moved out in from behind the rock, and he got a good look at her for the first time. She was nearly six feet tall in her sandals, probably five-ten and a bit without them. Red - true red - hair fell to below her waist, setting off pale skin and forest green eyes. Considering her speaking voice, he wondered where she got the Indian accent to go with the Irish looks, and was thinking about asking when she spoke again.

"I was wondering if perhaps you could explain something to me." She sounded hesitant and he wondered if she'd figured out who he was.

"If I can," he responded, guardedly.

"Well, you see, it's these pants. Shorts? I took the advice of a... friend... to purchase them. The salesperson told me I have the legs to pull them off." She looked at him, and there was an air of deep puzzlement about her. "I am not entirely sure how one uses legs to pull them off, especially since I thought the point of them was to cover the top half of the legs in the first place. I am therefore positive I'm missing some form of cultural reference. Could you please explain it?"

Marcus looked at her for a long moment, trying to decide if she was serious, and then he started to laugh for several minutes. When he finally caught his composure again, her face had lightened and he thought her eyes twinkled a bit. "Ah. Are you actually asking, or were you joking? I can't quite tell."

"Well, I'm pleased you found it amusing, since that gives me part of my answer - it's a cultural reference of some sort - but if you can give me the information, then I'm actually asking."

"It just means that you have very nice legs, actually. Was the salesperson male?" The young woman nodded. Marcus smiled. "He was giving you a somewhat awkward compliment, then."

"Oh. That explains... Well, thank you."

Both of them fell quiet and tensed as a bass roar filled the air. Moments later, they relaxed again as the sounds of fighting drifted through the trees, battle cries and commands interspersed with the sounds of powers and the clash of weapons on claws. A short time after, silence broken only by the sounds of the picnic returned to the clearing, and Marcus shook his head.

"The Devouring Earth weren't so bad when this whole thing started. Alexis decided the Freedom Corps needed to have an annual gathering to remind everyone that we're still all in this together, even though we're all in different groups. She's right, of course. Her mother would approve." He looked around the clearing. "We might need to move parks for the future, however. My wife and I brought the girls here when they were young, so Alexis wanted to hold the event here, but it gets the Devouring Earth worked up for weeks afterward. There are enough other parks in the city that have the space that won't risk innocent civilians." Marcus paused speaking and looked up. Coming up the path he could hear female voices - Jessica, he thought, and Swan. He stood, informing the young woman with him, "We're about to have company." He offered her a hand, but she shook her head and gracefully rose to her feet.

As she brushed herself off, he moved to the end of the path to wait for his granddaughter and her friend. After sweeping Jessica into a quick hug, he turned back to the young woman he'd been speaking with. "I believe I'm being summoned back now..." he trailed off, looking over the clearing. Turning to Jessica and Swan, he asked, "Did you see a young woman when you got here, almost as tall as I am, red hair?" They both shook their heads, and he turned back to look, wondering where she had gone. Deciding he'd follow up on the question later, he returned to the picnic.

*****

"It's been nearly a year and he hasn't let me do anything! I'm no closer to any of my goals than I was last year, she's still out there, the Maryanni are still not mine, I still have to suck up to Endaruta, and I'm TIRED OF IT!" The last few words came out in a screech as Silver Spyder sank her claws into the last of the Crey scientists occupying the offices they had been sent to search. "I want to do something about her!"

"I thought you said The Boss told you to drop the sibling rivalry." Toby sorted through the files in a cabinet as Spyder handled the personnel issues. "Losing it like this isn't going to impress him. He's got some plan, just wait. As soon as you come into play, he'll let you know."

"It's not sibling rivalry when I actually have to get rid of her in order to take over the Valley, you know," Spyder's tone was acid. "And I pointed that out when he told me to get over it. Ok, so I hate her for my own personal reasons too, but she still needs to die. How can I prove myself if he won't let me do anything?"

"He's got you watching Shaarde, doesn't he?"

"I'm not sure if I'm watching Shaarde, Shaarde's watching me, or The Boss is conducting some sort of experiment in human compatibility. With him, it could be all of... oh now wait, what's this?"

Toby, used to abrupt changes in subject, continued looking through the files. "What is what?"

Spyder draped herself over the office chair, holding a folder, "It's a lovely file on our very own Doctor Jackson. It's terribly out of date, ending with her time in the Zig, and she'll either laugh or scream at it, but it gives me a wonderful idea. Have you found what we came for?"

"Just found it. Do I want to know about your wonderful idea?" Toby sounded dubious.

"Oh, you'll need to - I'm going to need your help with it. Don't look at me like that, and don't worry, I won't do anything without The Boss' approval, and nothing will point back to either of us. Let's go," Spyder laughed and started to hum as she left the building, "I want to see if Shaarde is available tonight."

Toby decided that he would prove his wisdom by remaining silent.

*****

Cende once again woke up abruptly, waiting for the dream to clear from her mind before getting out of bed. The new wood flooring beneath her feet was shockingly cold, and she reminded herself to pick up a few rugs.

Crossing to her small altar, she lit a single candle and then folded down to sit on the floor. Picking up the scroll from the center of the altar, she considered the most recent dream. He had been in it, of course, as with all the dreams she had before waking. They had been fighting together, facing something dark and dangerous, and there was an understanding beneath it all that without him, that dark and dangerous enemy would roll over the world. On the other hand, she reflected with a blush, it was better than the one I had while staying at the base. If I ever needed a reason to not watch television before bed, that was definitely it.

Unrolling the paper, she gazed at the swooping writing covering the page. What did a Prophecy, over three thousand years old, really have to do with her? The way the thing read, it could just as easily refer to someone who had already died, to someone who had not yet been born, or even to Marcus himself. Or perhaps, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind, it was all a hallucination brought on by bad food. It didn't really matter, she supposed, if she had lost faith in it or not; her people believed it, and it was to them that she had the responsibility. The real question was what she was going to do about the dreams and the task that brought her to this place and this point.

The task of gathering allies should not be as difficult as she was finding it. She had begun to trust Commander Blake and Captains Collins and Robinson. Thinking about the other high-ranking members of the group, Cende decided that getting to know Sorina Tavarisch next would be the easiest and would provide her with the time to find a way to get to know others in the Patrol as well. Eventually, she would have to decide she trusted them enough to bring her case before them and hope they could find a way to help her people.

Reluctantly, she turned her mind to her dreams, and the man who occupied them. My wife and I, he had said, raising terror in her heart. She had pulled shadows around her when his back was turned, hiding from him and the young women who had come looking for him. Once he was gone, she had left, checking in with the base and working late into the night. The next day, she had asked Mrs. Purdue to tell her about Marcus Cole and the Statesman. What she had learned had distressed her - he was immortal, like Endaruta, which she knew. Unlike Endaruta, he was capable of love, but he had already given his heart, loving his wife fiercely and mourning her still, years after her death. That he had not seemed to have any reaction at all to Cende herself upon their meeting left her wondering why Ratri was sending these dreams with no apparent purpose.

As the candle burned down, Cende remained in deep thought. Finally, she moved. Pulling her box out from under the table and opening it, she quietly retrieved a slender black crystal and an ancient dagger from the main compartment, nestled amongst rolls similar to that in her hand. Lightly nicking her left ring finger with the dagger, she caught the small drop of blood with the crystal and used it to scratch a small rune onto the paper written with the prophecy. After packing the crystal and dagger away again, she picked up the scroll with a shaking hand and lightly touched the edge to the flame, reducing it to ashes. Eventually, as the candle began to gutter, she stood. "Prophecy and dreams," she gravely told the stone carving of her Goddess, "shall attend to themselves." Her decision made, she headed for her tiny bathroom, ready to start her day.

*****

"Cende?" Andrea Blake stopped the taller redhead on her way out. "You mind coming in here for a sec?"

Cende sighed inwardly and turned to follow the commander into a private office. In the two weeks since the picnic, she had been getting less sleep than usual, and she was exhausted. Davos was due to show up that evening, and she was hoping he would have advice for her; until she got more rest, however, she would not be at her best and was afraid it was beginning to show.

Blake's first words confirmed her fears. "You don't look like yourself. Is everything okay?"

It took a moment for Cende to remember that the other woman was also Star Patrol's counselor. Taking a breath, she straightened slightly, and gave a brief nod. "I'm fine, Commander. I should be back to normal soon."

"We've been working together for a year now; you might as well call me Andrea. So what's happening that's making you not normal?"

Cende studied Blake's unusually serious face, and considered her own decision to start trusting the woman. Almost hesitantly, she half-asked, half-stated, "You have a lot of relationships..."

Andrea nodded and shrugged, "I have a lot of friends that are sometimes a little bit more. Are you having relationship problems?"

"Not... exactly. How do you stop?"

"Stop being in a relationship?"

"Stop loving." Cende looked away from the other woman.

Blake leaned forward. "I'm not sure I’m following."

Cende sighed. "He doesn't even really know I exist, and I know that. It doesn't make sense, and I can't explain it properly, but I love him. I don't want to. I'm never going to bring myself to his attention, so it's not going to change. I need to stop loving... I need to stop feeling. How do I do it?"

Andrea was quiet for a long moment before she said softly, "You can't just stop. The feelings never really go away. All you can do is acknowledge that they're there, and then shove 'em away into a box and never let them out. You're cutting off a part of yourself if you do that, though, and it's not healthy."

Cende met the other woman's eyes briefly, "Neither is wishing for something that can never be. If you'll excuse me please, I need to go."

Blake nodded and sat back as Cende walked out.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 34.

Cende slid ahead to the mouth of the cavern and stopped in the shadow of jutting rocks, studying the passage ahead. Behind her, she could hear some of the others making small adjustments in their preparations, but one of them - a solid, strong presence - stepped up to wait beside her.

"I've lost count. Is this the fifth set of caves we've been in?" Cende asked the fully armored figure next to her.

"Sixth, I think." Agent Robinson adjusted the coupling on his left forearm, then picked up his axe. "Maybe we'll get what we need here and won't have to hit a seventh. Everyone ready?"

That mission had gone much the same way the previous five had that evening - Robinson had started first, with Cende following behind. Captain Collins, Commander Blake, and Special Agent Nacht had been close behind - or occasionally above - taking targets from a distance. Invariably, however, by the time they reached the end of the cave system, Blake was charging in alongside Robinson and Cende and occasionally attracting the initial fire from the Circle mages they were fighting.

At the entrance to the last cave of the system, the small group paused for a moment to watch the activity below. After a moment, Blake indicated the half -built structure and commented, "I want to know how they managed to get that much summoning paraphernalia in to a cave in under Galaxy City without anyone noticing."

"It’s Paragon City," Robinson pointed out. "After dark hardly anyone looks out their windows. They never know what might be looking back in."

"True enough. Well, that looks like the altar we were looking for - let's see about ruining these people's day." Blake began down the slope toward the far end of the cavern, raising her hands as she went.

Cende and Robinson started down with Blake, Nacht and Collins hovering above them. They had taken the outer group of guards by surprise - which was good when the guards consisted mainly of fire and spectral demons - and it had seemed that they would clear this group of mages as easily as they had cleared all the previous ones of the evening.

Then, as they had approached the altar, a portal to one side glowed with sudden life and a mage, power wreathing his hands and glowing in his eyes, stepped through, followed by a pair of demon lords and a group of fighters.

"Protect the altar," the mage ordered. "I want the trespassers as the first sacrifices! There will be no further delays!" The fighters and the demon lords surged into the combat, and the mage sought for a target.

Cende wasn't entirely certain what happened after that. At one point, she heard Blake order Nacht and Collins to focus on taking out the portal before more yet more reinforcements arrived; the low boom that echoed through the cavern once that was done was a relief. She never actually saw how Blake managed to attract the head mage's attention - one minute, her view was of Blake laughing as she cast dark energy at the wizened man, then the next time she looked over, the petite redhead was sinking to the ground, unconscious. Cende, having just dispatched a demon, made it to Blake's side just as Collins and Nacht both got there. Robinson, several yards away, was surrounded by fighters and unable to break free.

Collins checked Blake's vitals as Cende and Nacht fended off a wave of Guardians, "She's alive - barely. I'm going to trigger off her medi-" Collins broke off as Blake's eyes fluttered open, and a wave of darkness swept out from her, enveloping the foes around her and then flowing back in to her. The commander rose gracefully to her feet and started to laugh again.

It took very little time after that to finish subduing the remaining fighters and mages, then to destroy the half-built altar. Nacht and Robinson volunteered to wait for the MAGI crew to come in and collect the remaining artifacts, so Cende, Collins, and Blake headed back to the base.

*****

Cende sighed as she headed toward Dispatch to check out. She was grateful there were showers in the base; it made getting to appointments faster. The investigation into the Circle's summoning altar had gone longer than expected and she was late to meet with Emma.

In the three months since Tamara's death, Emma had turned to Cende to help with the wedding plans. Cende had protested that she didn't know anything about Western weddings, but Emma had tearfully insisted that she didn't have anyone else, and so Cende had acquiesced. She still wasn't entirely sure what a maid of honor was supposed to do, but she had a little bit longer to figure it out and until then, she'd assist Emma as well as she could. Just recently, packing had been added to the list of things to help with, as Frank and Emma had agreed to join Frank's brother in a new business venture out in California. They planned on leaving immediately after the wedding, driving cross-country as their honeymoon, and Emma was panicked as she tried to complete everything at once.

"Cende, could I speak with you a moment?"

Cende almost missed the question, focused as she was on her next set of tasks, and she took several more steps down the hallway before she stopped and turned. "Commander Blake, I apologize. Could you repeat please?"

Andrea Blake indicated the commander's offices. "I'd like speak with you for a moment."

Cende nodded and followed the commander into the office area. "Is there a problem?"

"In a way," the commander perched on her desk and swung her leg. "I've noticed when you're working with a group, you frequently get separated from the rest, either by going a different direction or by getting a bit ahead. This is dangerous for you, and I wanted to bring it to your attention before something happens."

"Commander Blake, while I appreciate your concern, I should point out that when I'm not specifically on duty for the Patrol, I work alone, and have done so since coming to Paragon. If something were to happen, it is far more likely to do so when I'm not with anyone than when I am."

"Regardless, you really do need to stay back with the team you're on. It's safer for you, and for them."

"I understand about safer for them, although there's a limit to how far back I can stay. A fair number of the Patrol I have teamed with tend to be distance fighters. If I stay too far back, I'm fundamentally useless. I will try to keep closer to the team. However..." Cende paused and eyed Blake carefully.

"What?"

Cende carefully adopted the most neutral tone and expression she had ever used with Endaruta. "When speaking of safety for those in the team, I must bring to your attention your ongoing attempt to lead from the front. While it is quite admirable, for one of your relative fragility it is also rather dangerous."

"What do you mean, my relative fragility?" Blake sounded distinctly annoyed by the concept.

"Only that your powers are those which are well employed from a distance, and your training emphasizes that. By moving up to fight in close range, you endanger those in the same area who must then watch out for you."

"I'm fine in hand-to-hand combat; nobody has to look out for me!" Blake was very definitely annoyed.

Cende considered the interactions she had seen between the various members of the Star Patrol to date, and decided to be direct. "You aren't a hand to hand fighter, and trying to be is going get you killed, as it nearly did tonight, and it might get someone else killed. Your relationship with Yami might be remarkably close, but I don't know how many times She will let you skate near death before She decides you'd be better off next to Her."

Blake started to retort, then paused a moment. Pulling back whatever she had been about to say, she looked away for a moment. When she returned her attention to Cende, the only thing she asked was, "Who's Yami?"

"Goddess of Death and the Underworld. Your powers mimic Hers."

"That's... interesting." Blake looked down at her watch and winced. "I have a meeting right now, and you looked like you were trying to get someplace. I'll see you tomorrow."

Cende, somewhat surprised at the abrupt dismissal, nodded and headed back toward Dispatch to finish checking out. One thing at a time, and the questions raised by Blake's behavior could wait - Emma's wedding problems would not.

*****

"Hooray for the Power of Zen." Andrea Blake dropped tiredly into her chair at the conference table and looked at the other four ranking members of Star Patrol.

"Are you going to unpack that a little, or do we get to play guess the Koan?" Ray Sharpe handed the diminutive psion a cola and settled into his own chair.

Joelle Wright was already seated, a spread of folders and papers before her. "My guess is that she's referring to Cende, since we did ask Andrea to do the evaluation."

Blake nodded and waited for Eli Bowman and Sorina Tavarisch to take their seats before continuing. "I have been evaluating, and I can tell you that she's a pain in the *** to read. It's not that she has good shields, it's that she has... well, all I can really call it is the Power of Zen." She shrugged.

Bowman frowned, "Are you saying you can't do the evaluation?"

Blake shook her head. "I'm actually done. Just because it's hard to get into her head doesn’t mean I haven't been able to. She definitely has secrets, and I haven't pried into them - they're all wrapped up with that temple of hers and I'm not going to tangle with a potential Goddess. From everything I've seen, she really is a priestess and nearly always has a prayer running through her head. She's extremely protective of the people around her, especially if she feels some sort of responsibility for them." Blake hesitated for a moment then almost reluctantly added, "She does have some sort of emotional confusion going on, though. I wasn't able to nail down what it was, but it's deep."

"Is it enough for you to recommend that we ask her to leave?" Wright sounded concerned.

"Nope. In my opinion, we can offer her full Agent status in the Special Ops division at any time."

"Despite the argument I just overheard?" Tavarisch inquired. As Andrea nodded, the physicist changed the subject slightly, "Can you explain what you mean about her defenses?"

Blake looked at her hands and considered. "Most people don't really have any psychic defenses. Some people have natural blocks, but they're rare. There are psions like Sister Psyche or me who can erect walls around our minds to keep others out, but we're also rare. Usually, the average Joe can't keep even a low-level scan out. You can be taught some techniques to make it harder to read you, but it’s something that takes conscious effort on your part, and it's the mental equivalent of filling your head with static or white noise." She looked around the table to make sure everyone was following her so far. "Cende doesn't do that, and I have to assume that she learned whatever it is she does do at her temple. Instead of being filled with white noise, her mind is more like... oh, looking at a lake. It's smooth, and reflects a lot of her surroundings. You can kind of see that there're things happening underneath, but you can't necessarily see what, and if you try to look beneath the surface, you'll make ripples and it'll be obvious - and it's like that pretty much all of the time. I doubt she could actually keep a determined probe out, to be honest - I don't think she has very strong defenses - but she'll know if anyone is looking in her head, and if she hasn't given her permission, she could very well consider it an attack. But like a lake, it's very serene and quiet. It's actually a rather relaxing change."

Sharpe rubbed his chin, "How were you able to get impressions off of her then, if she would have viewed it as an attack?"

Blake shrugged. "It slips sometimes. After a particularly hard fight when she's had a couple of hits to the head and is recovering, when she's taken enough damage that the medi-porter was close to pulling her away and she was nearly unconscious, or when she's very intensely focused on something. The breaks rarely last very long, and the... curtain, I guess you could call it, goes back into place quickly. It seems like it's almost a reflexive action for her to keep it up. It probably goes hand-in-hand with her control over her body language and facial expressions, actually, and if that's not a sign of abuse in her background, I'll skip the clubs for a week."

"I'm still not entirely comfortable with how little we know about her background," Bowman continued to frown. "However, if no one has any objections stronger than that, I can't see any reason to not make her a full member. She's done everything we've asked of her, and we usually follow the recommendation of the evaluating officer." He looked around the table and nodded. "Fine, then. Add her to the standard Special Ops rotation. Now, about that addition to the firing range..."

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 33.

Cende easily passed through customs and paused in a private corner in the main terminal to turn on her communicator. She had texted her flight information from Paris to Paragon once she had recovered the device from the storage locker in the Kathmandu airport; now she wanted to see if there were any instructions pertaining to her return to duty. She hoped that she would be given a day to rest, before being required to report in. It took close to twenty-four hours to travel between Paragon and the Mitanni Valley, and most of that was spent in little metal boxes; she couldn't help but think it would be less exhausting to fly there under her own power.

The phone beeped and she sighed as she looked down at the screen. The message that flashed across instructed her to report to Dispatch immediately upon arrival, with no further information attached. Stretching slightly, she winced as her shoulders ached, then took a deep breath and set out. Perhaps it would simply be a short check-in, just to make sure she was all right...

Sooner than she expected, she was stepping through the portal into the base, and with some surprise, she saw both Andrea Blake and Helena Collins waiting for her. Surprise quickly turned to concern as she noticed the expressions on the women's faces, and she paused partway down the ramp. "What has happened?"

"Cende, we have bad news for you." Commander Blake stepped back, "Please come into the conference room."

Cende followed the two women quietly, taking a seat at the table. She refrained from comment when Sorina Tavarisch, the unofficial fifth leader of the Patrol, joined them and waited until Blake spoke again.

"We understand that you were friends with Longbow Specialist Tamara Henderson?" Blake's voice was gentle, and Cende nodded, slowly. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that... she died just after you left."

"How?" The one word question was in a quiet and oddly neutral tone.

"Zombies!" The word exploded from Collins. "It was all the supernatural activity we saw before you left, I said I'd try and figure out what was causing it, but I didn't, and she got caught and they killed her." The words all rushed out of the young woman as if she had been holding them back and couldn't any longer. She looked at Cende unhappily. "I still haven't figured out why it's happening."

Cende closed her eyes and blocked out the faces of the women sitting with her. Sitting quiet and still, she acknowledged the grief and anger deep inside her mind, allowing herself to feel them for a moment before carefully closing them away. She would grieve later, for now she had to focus. She prayed for additional strength, and then said the first of the prayers for the dead. When she was certain she had full control, she opened her eyes again, and met the concerned eyes of Blake and Tavarisch. "Commanders, I realize I have been away for several days, but with this news I find I must request additional time." A small part of her mind noted with relief that her voice was steady and calm as she spoke. "Tamara had friends and relatives that will be grieving; as a priestess and a friend, it is my duty to provide comfort at this time. Additionally, I have prayers to see to."

Startled, Blake and Tavarisch both gave their assent. Turning her eyes to Collins, Cende reached out and briefly touched the unhappy young woman on the back of the hand. "Captain, you're still investigating the causes of the supernatural unrest?" Helena nodded, and Cende continued, "Then there's very likely nothing you could have done. Even if you did know the cause, unless you also knew how to stop it and had learned in time, it still wouldn't have done any good. I was only gone four days; you haven't had that much time to work on it."

Collins nodded again, and with a briefly mumbled comment, excused herself back to Dispatch. After a moment, Cende stood and excused herself as well, heading toward the base portal.

The conference room was quiet for nearly a full minute until Tavarisch commented softly, "She looked completely ragged. If she hadn’t requested additional time off, I would have insisted she take it anyway."

Blake nodded and stood. "I can see why she didn't want to go back. I wish I knew how to get her to trust us and tell us what's going on at that temple of hers."

"Give it time," came the response, as Tavarisch headed back to her lab. "Cultural conditioning doesn't rub off overnight."

*****

"Cende!" Emma threw herself at the tall redhead as she opened the door, her eyes welling with tears. "Thank God you're home safely!" Cende wrapped her arms around her friend as the gentle woman began to cry in earnest and nodded hello to Frank as he came out.

"Cende," the big man greeted her, then indicated the slender, blond man who had followed him out of the bedrooms beyond. "This is Doctor Michael Henderson, Tamara's brother. He's come to help pack up her things. Michael, this is Cende, the friend we were telling you about."

Cende raised an eyebrow and Frank gave a faint smile, "He was asking if we knew any registered heroes. You're the only one we really associate with. C'mon, honey, don't make her stand in the hall all day." Frank reached for Emma and guided her back into the apartment, then closed the door. "I assume you've heard what happened?" he asked Cende.

Cende shook her head, "Just that she died and there were zombies involved."

Emma raised her head as she sat on the couch and gave a watery smile. "Tamara died being what she always wanted to be - a hero."

Michael excused himself to continue packing, and Frank followed him out. Cende sat next to Emma, listening quietly.

Emma sniffled and took a handful of tissues from a box by the couch. "Frank and I had taken Tamara for a picnic at the park down the street. I had news and I wanted to tell her first. She's been my best friend since high school, after all." She held out a hand to show Cende the ring on her finger, "Frank asked me to marry him. I wanted Tamara to be my maid of honor. She was so excited about it. I think she was more excited than if she were getting married herself, especially because she started planning all the parties she was going to throw."

Cende waited as Emma fell quiet. The other woman sighed and then started to speak again, "Suddenly, the sky turned red and everything went silent - no birds, no wind, nothing. It was like all the animals disappeared and the sounds of the world went mute. Only for a minute, though. Then the screaming began as... things... started crawling up out of the ground. They looked like dead people, or parts of them anyway, and monsters, and... God! It was horrible. I pulled out my communicator and called Longbow, but you know what Tamara was like. She pulled out those awful hand-cannons of hers and started taking aim. Between her and Frank, they were able to keep those things off of us while we started heading toward the nearest building, but then we came across a mother and her little kid who were barely keeping ahead of the ones who were chasing them. I think the things were playing with their prey, actually. Frank picked up the kid and I helped the mom. Tamara was right with us, and we were actually at the building, when I heard her asthma kick in." Emma gulped air and tears began to roll down her face. "Frank was shoving the kid through the door when Tam fell. One big monster had come up practically underneath her, and she couldn't keep her balance with her breathing impaired. We were both heading back toward her, I could see her reaching for her medi-port link... and then there were too many of them. The link got ripped off of her. I couldn't see what happened after that, but the medics said there wasn't enough left of her to resurrect. And it all just happened so fast."

Cende held back the questions running wildly through her mind and simply, quietly offered, "I'm sorry."

Emma began to cry again.

*****

The memorial was three days later. Cende had performed quiet prayer services for her friend the day previous, joined by Emma, Frank, Teddy and Jack, as well as Mrs. Purdue and Michael Henderson. The day of found her dressed in full formal Longbow uniform again, standing honor guard as the people who had known Tamara came forward to offer their memories of the vivacious young woman.

At the end of the very long day, Cende stepped into Star Patrol headquarters and slipped into Dispatch. Sighing quietly, she quickly moved her name onto the "Available for Duty" roster, then turned to leave and paused as she noticed someone standing behind her.

"That uniform doesn't particularly suit you," Ray Sharpe observed. Usually good-humored, the blue-skinned commander seemed rather serious as he leaned against the door. "Then again, you had to put it on to go to a funeral, so that's probably appropriate. Are you sure you don't need more time?"

Cende shook her head. "Death is a rather natural end to life, even if the cause is unnatural. Everything else cannot simply stop for long."

"And so that's it, you just keep going?"

"Eventually, you have to, or you have to die yourself. You never stop caring for the ones you lost, but you move forward."

Sharpe nodded. "You're with me tomorrow morning, then. Be here at ten." He pushed off the door and turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, "And get a real uniform."

Cende smiled briefly. It was good to be home.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 32.

Cende approached Dispatch with some concern. She had been in Star Patrol for nearly six weeks and thought she was doing relatively well, but there was still friction between herself and Captain Collins and she wasn't sure why. She had noticed, however, that Captain Collins had once again come up short on fieldwork at the end of the previous month, and thought that perhaps making a quiet offer could help on two fronts.

As she turned the corner to step into the office, she heard Collins' light, quick laugh followed by, "Roger that, Sharpe, I've got you logged out now. You don't have to bother coming back to base today."

Cende rapped lightly on the counter to warn Helena before she spoke, "Captain Collins, if you have a moment?" Despite her precautions, the other young woman jumped in her chair and spun around to glare.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people. What do you want?"

Cende restrained a sigh, "I'm simply quiet, and you were speaking with Sharpe. I apologize for startling you. I only wanted to offer to help you with your fieldwork. I know some people don't like to go alone."

"Why are you offering?"

"You make everyone else's life easier by arranging the schedules even when they have strange requests that change at the last minute. Well, I go out rather more than just when I'm on duty, and I thought that if it didn't take up the time when you were on duty in Dispatch and Analysis it would be easier on you and you could get it done. That's all."

Collins looked surprised. "You're offering just because you want to help me?" When Cende nodded, the captain bit her lip. "Oh. Thank you. I'll think about it, ok?"

"Of course; just let me know. For now, however, do you happen to know where Commander Blake is?"

The next conversation was equally awkward for Cende, on more levels than she was expecting. Tracking Andrea Blake down in the Commander's living quarters had been relatively easy; discovering that the petite psion surrounded herself with a myriad of textures and patterns was a little more distracting.

"I like keeping the colors simple," Blake explained, "But I love the feel of things and patterns can be subtly dramatic or in-your-face, depending on my mood. And by the way, why didn't you mention your birthday last week? We could have done something for it - gotten a cake and made sure you met more of the Patrol."

Cende shook her head. "Birthdays are a little different for us to start with; mine is the last day of a holiday which passes in prayer, meditation, and ritual. I spent it the way I have always spent it, but thank you for the thought."

"Another time, then. I'm pretty sure you didn't come by to watch me try on the new clothes I just picked up, though, so what can I do for you?"

"I need to request a short leave of absence."

"Why? And how short?"

"Only four days, perhaps a week at the most. I have been recalled to my temple in Nepal. I do not know why."

"Even if you did know, you probably couldn't tell me," Blake guessed.

"Probably not," Cende admitted.

"Do you want to go back?"

Cende's answer took several moments in coming, before she finally, softly responded, "No, not really."

"What happens if we say no? Can you avoid going?"

Cende shook her head, "I don't think so. I think they could pull my visa, and I'd be forced to leave. At that point, I don't think I'd be allowed to come back. It's probably better to just voluntarily go."

"Are you sure they'll let you come back?"

Cende nodded.

"Okay, then who do you want as backup?"

"No one. It's not necessary. I'm not in any danger, I am just reluctant."

Blake nodded. "All right, if you're sure, make the arrangements with Dispatch. I'll send down the approval."

In the intervening week, Cende and Collins went out on patrol twice. Focused on her upcoming trip, Cende left the choice of investigations up to Collins. She didn't really notice what they were working on and had completely forgotten the details of the cases by the time she was flying back to Nepal.

*****

"Report on your progress thus far, Papahai Dina." Endaruta's tone was demanding, his voice and manner condescending. He had called Cende before his council almost as soon as she had crossed into the temple, and then made her wait as everyone gathered. Given that she had arrived during the evening meal, this had taken well over an hour.

"Progress is steady, but slow," Cende answered honestly. "There are layers of people, paperwork, and security around the highest ranks in Paragon City, including Statesman, and getting close to anyone at that level takes time and patience."

"And why have you not reported in before now?" The rest of the council shifted uneasily; Endaruta's dislike of failure was well-known, and his definition of failure was prone to random changes.

"Returning to the valley repeatedly would put the Maryanni at an unacceptable risk -" Cende began.

"I assume you have learned of electronic communication by now?" Endaruta asked, sarcastically.

"I was not aware that the Maryanni had -"

"Become aware!" Endaruta snapped. "It is your responsibility to provide regular reports to this council, and you have not fulfilled that responsibility. No further failure on your part in this regard will be tolerated. If you do not begin to provide these reports immediately, a superior operative will be assigned to take your place. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Cende bowed formally and waited to be dismissed. With a growl, Endaruta sent her away.

*****

"He's looking for a way to kill you without showing his hand." Gephel's rough voice seemed out of place in the moonlit gardens above the temple. "He made it clear that you and Rata were the children of the prophecy, and the Maryanni have waited too long for him to say the time is right for him to just change the rules now, and he knows it. If you die, then he can claim Indra has made a choice, but only if that death can't be traced back to him." The old warrior stood at the head of the path, keeping watch.

Khadka looked up from his mat on the ground and took the strings of his instrument out of his mouth. "What the High Priest doesn't take into account are the people of the Valley. They don't have any idea who Rata is - she trained with the warriors and rarely interacted with any of them. The ones who do know of her were victims of her chaos and have nothing good to say about her. Of course, he doesn't actually care about their opinions, but they won't follow her."

Barely visible in the shadows, Cende shrugged slightly. "I can't help what Endaruta's doing, at least not yet. He's powerful, and he's been consolidating his power for a long time. We need to do much the same. For me, that means staying outside and finding allies. For you two, that means the training and covers you've been doing, only more intensely. "

"And for me?" Davos had come up the path to stand beside Gephel while the young woman spoke.

"Aside from praying for more guidance? That depends. Were you able to find the history I wanted?" She thanked him as he handed her a scroll and held a small lamp. "I only barely remembered this recently, and I might owe one of my teammates an apology for ignoring half of what she was talking about. One of my ancestors, one of the twin sets, was actually a Speaker. It was about two thousand years ago, and it was during that time... yes, here it is. Ceba was Speaker, her twin Amrita was a warrior and married to a high-ranking Maryanni advisor to Endaruta. Ceba appointed her twin as her proxy in Endaruta's council, and Amrita passed that to her husband." Cende looked up. "It looks like Ceba was Speaker for close to eighty years. When she died, her replacement never reclaimed the proxy... and the Speaker hasn't had a seat on the council ever since."

The three men were silent for a long moment, then Davos sighed and extinguished the lamp. "You do realize that my sympathies are with Ceba in this matter? Well, that's beside the point, I suppose. How do you expect me to get Endaruta to agree to return the proxy?"

"You don't." The response came from Gephel, before Cende could answer. "You just show up. Nobody on the council will object; most of them are so cowed that they'll assume you're there with permission and the ones that aren't will wait to see which side of things you're on. The rest goes back to the Prophecy - Ratri wakes, and you're the Speaker."

"It's a dangerous game to play," warned Davos.

"It's all dangerous. That's why we're out here, freezing our fingers off when it's about to snow talking about history and prophecy to justify a rebellion." Khadka's tone was sharp. "And just because nobody's said it out loud, let's be clear that it is a rebellion we're talking about, even if the person we're talking about putting in charge is the rightful heir." He glanced at Cende, "You do realize you're a princess, right, even if all you're princess of is this place?" She nodded, and he continued. "Right now, and for the last thousand years or so, Endaruta's been the ruler, regardless of if he should be or not, but he's kept the royal family hanging around and breeding true for reasons of his own. I don't know if the Prophecy had to be fulfilled by a royal or not, but it makes it easier for us. If we do this right, the Mitanni commoners will follow a princess chosen by Prophecy who's there to deliver them from the despot keeping them from joining the rest of the world; the Maryanni are already primed by years of catechism to follow her."

"So if it's all prepared, how does that equate to a rebellion?" inquired Gephel, fascinated.

"Endaruta doesn't want to give it up. He wants a puppet, not a princess, and if he can't get it, he'll make it. Until she's ready to make her move, he's going to create situations that favor him, and I'm pretty sure he'll do everything he can to undermine her here, so that if Rata falls, Dina won't have an easy time getting the Valley to follow her. Further... he's got a valley full of hostages, and as soon as he starts to figure out that Dina actually cares about what happens to the people here, he won't hesitate to use that against her and manipulate her into doing what he wants her to do." Khadka looked grim. "So, it's a rebellion, albeit a subtle, quiet one. We make sure that people know what she's out there doing - she's learning how to save all of us. She's making allies. She's learning about the world so she can lead us into it. We try to stop short the situations that favor Endaruta when we can. We can't do much, but we can make sure that the people of the valley are prepared when the time comes."

Gephel nodded. "And we recruit allies ourselves." He looked pointedly at Davos as he continued, "Which means on the council as well as in the temples and within the ranks of the Maryanni."

Davos held up his hands. "I yield to the advice of those sneakier than I." Lowering them again, he rested his palms on Cende's shoulders. "However, if we're done speaking of rebellion, I need to speak with Papahai Dina of religion. Gentlemen?"

Taking the hint, Gephel and Khadka excused themselves. As they headed down the path, Gephel's voice floated back as he asked the other man, "Do you by any chance play chess?"

*****

Cende lay draped over the arm of a divan, meditating on deep, steady breaths. She was naked from the waist up, save for a band around her breasts, and pale skin glowed in the steady lamplight. She turned her head and opened her eyes as the beaded curtain rattled, then closed them again once Davos entered.

"At least this time you're not half-dead and broken from the trials, just exhausted from the trip out here and barely any rest. I wish we had more time, but with Endaruta dictating that you had one day to report to him and can suffice on one day to report to me, we have to do this now so you can leave in the morning." The tall priest looked over her body. "You've picked up a few new scars, and you don't eat enough. You've gotten thinner and you didn't have any extra weight to start with." Settling behind her, he tied her hair into a thick tail and began to clean her shoulders. "The ink hasn't faded from the first set so this part will go quickly."

"Do you know what Pema and the other spellworkers have done, precisely?" Cende resisted the urge to turn her head slightly as she felt the damp brush touch her shoulders.

"Not exactly, no, although apparently they got the idea from the loyalty spells that you mentioned when you did this the first time. I have three bottles here that are specifically labeled. From what I gathered from Pema when she tried to explain it, the one that goes on the eagle will replace your flight talisman and the one that goes onto the star will improve your ability to heal yourself."

"Why put the healing onto the star?"

"She thought it might permit you to provide some amount of healing to others, flowing from you like starlight. She thought you would like that."

"If it works, yes, I would. I have two talismans, and you said there were three inks. I assume the ability to hide in shadow is in the third?"

Davos was quiet for several minutes as he worked, and she heard him switch out brushes and ink before he finally replied, "I asked them to figure out the last one. It will put a form of protection for you onto Ratri's jasmine." He finished quickly, and she realized that he'd left the star for last. "We'll be in shortly. Those won't take long to dry," he told her as he stood and gathered his tools, then was out the door again before she could ask him what sort of protection he'd devised for her without discussion. Sighing, she closed her eyes and waited.

A few moments later, the curtain rattled again as several priests and priestesses filed into the room, Davos at the end of the line. Gracefully, Cende stood from the divan and moved to the center of the room, standing in front of Davos as the other priests formed a circle around them. Reaching out, Davos gently laid a blindfold over Cende's eyes, tying it behind her head, even as another priest stepped up behind her and tightly tied her wrists together behind her back. When he placed his hands on her shoulders, Davos whispered softly, "This isn't going to go much different than before," then he pressed on her shoulders, guiding her down to kneel in front of him. The other priests linked hands and began to chant softly.

"Papahai Dina, do you acknowledge that you come before Ratri as both a Priestess and a Warrior?"

"Speaker Davos, I do." Cende's voice, though soft, was steady.

"Papahai Dina, do you request Ratri's guidance and protection in your life?"

"Speaker Davos, I do." An edge of puzzlement had slipped into Cende's voice.

Davos let out his breath in a silent sigh. He did this based on instructions he had received in a dream; Cende's puzzlement was understandable. "Papahai Dina, Priestess and Warrior, as you have requested, so now Ratri provides." As he spoke, Davos reached deep inside himself to the connection he held as the Speaker. Warm and welcoming it held him closer than any lover ever could, filling him completely. He could feel the power flowing through him, gathering up the threads of energy raised by the priests, twisting them together into a pair of spikes, and thrusting them through his hands down into Cende's body.

As with the first time, Davos could feel Cende arch her back, although this time she did not cry out. Once again, the power flowing through him abruptly pulled away, flowing back through the circle of priests before fading entirely. What felt like a promise came to Davos from his deep link to Ratri, and he wondered briefly what his dreams would be like that evening before turning his attention to the rest of the room.

Cende was collapsed in a heap at his feet, barely conscious. The priests of the circle, however, looked energized and Priestess Pema smiled broadly as she caught his eye. "That worked as well as we hoped. The only way anyone can get those powers out of her now is by ripping them out, and I don't think anyone will want to take on a Goddess for it."

"Everyone came through rather better than the last time," observed Davos. "Well, except Cende herself, considering the comparative states."

Pema just shrugged as she followed the others out of the room, "Maybe the Lady was in a good mood. I'll have a youngster bring up food, our girl there will need to eat."

Davos nodded, and turned his attention to helping Cende back onto the divan. When he had settled her, he checked her shoulders carefully. "They look brighter now. How do they feel?"

"They hurt." Cende reached for a lightweight wrap, pulling it around herself and tying it off. "That part will ease up in a while. It's as if I'm more aware of them, as if they're more connected to me now. Davos, what did you do?"

"Exactly what I said we'd do. Your flight and your healing are now embedded into you; they're your own abilities now and no one can take them from you."

"But intervention and protection from the Goddess?"

"The intervention was necessary to make the powers an integral part of you. The protection... it's a little more subtle. A hint in your mind to anyone poking around that if they get too nosy, that they'll have to answer to a Goddess. It's true, and most people don't like the idea of that. An improvement in your ability to hide in the shadows. I'm not entirely certain what else Ratri had in mind, only that you would benefit somehow." He shrugged and draped a blanket over her, "I'm all in favor of anything that keeps you safer, so even if I weren't working on the direct orders of our Goddess, I'd still not apologize."

"I know. I just wish you'd told me."

"Would it have made a difference?"

"Not really," Cende shifted uncomfortably, "I just truly don't like surprises."

Davos smiled. "One or two of them you don't mind." He moved over to the doorway and looked out, nodding to someone in the hall. "For example, this one." Stepping aside, he permitted the acolyte carrying a tray to come in.

Cende's eyes lit with pleasure. "Rinchen, it's good to see you," she greeted her former student.

"Priestess Cende." Rinchen neatly balanced the tray as she bowed while still carrying it. Giggling, the girl then placed the try on the table next to Cende's side. "I practiced that for balance. I've been studying with Master Gephel - I'm going to be like you, a warrior-priestess." The girl's eyes were shining with hero-worship as she sat next to a stunned Cende and poured tea. "Please, Priestess, tell me about the outside world, and about heroes. Speaker Davos said you would."

Davos snickered to himself and settled in to listen as Cende gave him a quick look. He'd hear about that before she left, but at least she'd rest for a while, and for now that would be sufficient.

I am discovering that novels don't necessarily translate well to forum format, especially when they're quite as dense as this one. At a certain point, I will let folks know where the PDF up to that point is available for download.

If you are a new, potential reader and want to skip all of the back-story to start when Cende arrives in Paragon, you can. That begins at Chapter 18, and while there will be parts where you're going "who is this and why is it important," it's not as big a deal right now. If you decide you like the story, the background will, after all, still be there when I slow down posting (which is inevitable).

And yes, Scooter, I know.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 31.

Tuesday morning had dawned bright and clear, and Cende had chosen to watch the sunrise from one of her more frequent perches in Steel Canyon. The remainder of the weekend after the party at Pocket D had been spent dodging the questions of her concerned friends, and she didn't want to start today with yet more questions as Teddy and Jack headed into work. She knew they meant well, but Rata was a subject best left undiscussed - too many questions in that line would lead back to the Maryanni, and that was a line of thinking best avoided.

From below, a cry for help arose as a group of thugs cornered a young woman on her way to work, and Cende sighed. There were still a few hours before she needed to report to the Galaxy portal, and Ratri knew there was plenty of work to be done - and it was better than brooding up here. She headed down to where the plea had come from, determined to do something useful.

Three hours later, Cende approached the portal behind the Freedom Corps building, examining a knife slash on one hand. One of the last thugs she fought had gotten in a lucky cut, and she hadn't quite managed to fully heal the injury yet. She'd have to reconsider the suggestion the ICON representative had made regarding gloves, especially if she could get them without fingers, and -

"Are you injured?" The smooth tones of Eli Bowman's voice interrupted Cende's thoughts and she looked up to see the Star Patrol commander standing at the portal before her.

Her quick smile came and went. "Not really. It's a scratch; it'll be gone in an hour or less. "

Bowman nodded. "Good job on getting your paperwork done so quickly. Longbow got your files over to us on Friday afternoon - someone there must like you. I've seen it take a few weeks to get everything when they didn't want to cooperate. You're already in the base system for access permission. Go on in; I'll be right behind."

Cende stepped through the portal and into a brightly lit entry room. Stepping off the platform, she turned to wait for the Commander to come through, then followed him into a conference room to one side. A petite redhead, hair slightly darker than Cende's own, leaned against the table, eyes shut as she obviously enjoyed the cup of coffee she sipped. As they approached, she opened her eyes and briefly looked Cende over.

The small woman grinned up at Bowman. "You didn't tell me she was another tall one," she complained.

"Compared to you, nearly all the rest of us are tall ones, so I didn't see the point," Bowman replied. "Cende, this is Commander Andrea Blake. She'll actually be handling your orientation today; I was hit with a sudden meeting and need to go. I'm already running late. If you ladies will please excuse me?" Nodding to each of them, Bowman disappeared down another hallway and vanished.

Commander Blake waved Cende to a seat. "Welcome to Star Patrol. I read over your file when Bowman asked me to take over for him; it said you're a little new to technology?" Cende nodded, and Blake indicated the base around them. "You'll get over that quick here. We've got cutting edge everything, and what we don't have, we design. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

Cende shook her head. "I'm far from certain that all technologies are good, or even necessary, but I understand that many of them are beneficial and many more are simply neutral. I'm just not comfortable because until I came to Paragon, advanced technology was not available to me."

"Really? Must be a huge change for you," Blake paused a moment to see if Cende would say anything more, then continued. "Well, here’s a communicator; it's similar to the ones Longbow use, but more advanced. We'll have to stop by the medical bay to get your medi-porter registered to our reclamator. And of course, there's a pile of paperwork about eight miles deep, but I think most of that can go home with you as long as you get it back by the end of the week. Some absolutely has to be done today, but there will be time to do it. Oh, did you want some coffee? Sorry for not asking before."

Cende shook her head. "I wouldn't mind water, if I could, please."

Blake nodded, "I'll get some for you while you fill out these forms. Before I do, however, there's something you need to know. There's a group, the Nova Dominion, which considers Star Patrol its principal enemy. If you join us, you will be a target for them; they will try to kill you and possibly people you care about. Not 'might'. WILL. Right now, you're not on their radar. You decide to walk away, it'll stay that way. You join us, it's only a matter of time. Please think about that before you make up your mind. I'll get your water and be back in a sec." The commander rose and left the room, leaving Cende considering the papers in front of her.

When Blake returned after several minutes, she was carrying a glass of water and a slip of paper. Glancing down at the now-completed forms on the table as she offered the water to Cende, the smaller redhead asked, "So the idea of having assassins after you isn't disturbing?"

"Of course it's disturbing," Cende replied calmly. "I would be foolish if it weren't. But it seems that there's always something that will be a problem; this is at least a known issue and can be watched for. Besides, there's always the hope that I will, as you put it, stay off their radar for as long as possible and thus come as a surprise to them if they attempt anything."

"I wouldn't count on it."

"I don't. But it is a pleasant hope."

Blake shrugged, "Kay, then. The docs tell me that your full med paperwork is hung up in red tape of some kind but your base system scan at least made it over and you're ready to go to work. Apparently, we'll also have to stop by the med bay to get a subcutaneous medi-porter for you - I hadn't realized Longbow didn't have them yet. If you follow me, I'll take you on a tour of the base and then we'll head out. Until you're off probation, you'll be paired with higher ranked members of the Patrol while you're on duty."

Cende nodded and rose to follow the commander on a whirlwind tour of the base. Medical and transportation facilities, offices and laboratories, small private rooms and group-wide recreation rooms, the base provided most of what the groups' members needed at any given time. When Cende inquired about the private rooms, Blake nodded.

"Most of the members have their own places and stay there. Sometimes though, something comes up and you need a place to stay - you're too tired, or too injured, or the Rikti just bombed your place and it doesn't have an outside wall, whatever - and the rooms are good for temporary quarters. Also, some of us stay here full time, for our own reasons." The two women turned a corner into a dim room filled with the quiet hum of computers. "This is Dispatch. Check in here whenever you come on duty; if you're needed on a particular assignment, it'll be posted. You'll also find the current duty roster, and if you happen to have free time with no investigations, they'll usually have something that needs looking into."

"There's always something to look into." This comment came from a dark-haired young woman seated at a workstation, who finished rapidly keying in commands before looking up. "Is this the new one you wanted on the schedule?"

Blake nodded. "She is. Helena, this is Cadet Cende. Cende, Captain Helena Collins. Helena, I was reviewing the fieldwork schedule for the last month and you didn't meet your minimum hours. One of the docs will come down and handle dispatch for you; sign out and meet us by the porter."

"But, I've got -" Helena began to protest.

Blake held up a hand. "Save it. Just because you're a captain now doesn't change the requirements. Be ready in ten minutes, and that's an order."

Helena sullenly answered, "Yes, ma'am," and turned back to the computer as Blake and Cende left dispatch. Ten minutes later, the three women were out of the base and on Peregrine Island.

*****

"Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right," Andrea Blake said whimsically as she looked down the hallway at the group of garishly dressed women clustered around a stack of boxes.

Cende glanced down at the commander. "They're all in front of us," she objected mildly.

Helena groaned. Standing, she was about the same height as the petite Commander Blake, and she had to look up to see if Cende was actually joking. "Let me guess - you don't listen to music, either?"

"I do listen to music."

"But you've really never had much exposure to western culture, have you?" Blake hazarded. "Like advanced technology, it just never made it to where you were. So half the time, you have no idea what we're talking about."

"More than half," Cende admitted.

Blake grinned. "We can fix that." As she called forth her powers and caught the attention of the Carnies at the end of the hallway, she began to laugh, "We can definitely fix that."

*****

"...which was a little disturbing," Cende related to Davos between bites from the take-out carton, "because I'm not entirely certain if she was laughing at what she was saying or laughing at what she was doing. However, I believe that Commander Blake may have a closer relationship with Yami than one might expect from a Westerner with no idea who that Lady even is."

"The Lady of Death and the Underworld? Are you sure?"

"Not entirely, no. It's the first time I've met the woman, after all. Her powers were dark and a little unsettling, though, and they didn't feel familiar. Also..." Cende paused, and chewed slowly, thinking.

"Also?" Davos prodded when she didn't continue.

"I think she might have been scanning me a few times. If she was, she's far more subtle about it than anyone else I've ever run across. The sheer number of people here with mental abilities means I've been keeping up with my training, but will you please find out if there are further exercises I may learn? If there are many more mentalists stronger than she is, then I - and the Maryanni - may be in danger."

Davos looked grave. "Of course. That does bring up, however, the question of what precisely you were thinking in joining an organization that has enemies willing to kill any member of it simply for being a member. Don't you have enough complications in your life already?"

Cende took her now-empty carton to the kitchenette, cleaned up the little she had used, and started tea. "In a way, it's actually simpler that they have these enemies. They know that there are people out there that hate them this much. They know that there are people ... oh, what's the term used here... right, 'out to get them.' They're on guard, and they're watchful, so they won't find it strange that I am on guard and watchful. They’ll expect it, instead, so the fact that I've been trained the way I have will be an asset rather than a liability. Besides," she shrugged and leaned against the counter, waiting for the water in the electric kettle to boil, "everyone who works as a hero in this city makes enemies. It's a just matter of either knowing who they are or being blind."

Davos sighed and nodded. "It makes sense, I suppose. Dina, are you sure we shouldn't send someone to aid you? We've nearly figured out how the veil works; it's just a matter of time before we can get someone through it and I'd feel better if you had someone watching your back."

Cende shook her head, "No. And promise me that even once you do manage to get someone through it, you'll only use that ability when you absolutely need to. It's too dangerous to be putting people across it frequently - we don't know what kind of alarms Endaruta has on it."

"Gephel's made the same point, and I know you're both right, but it's frustrating. Endaruta has several thousand hostages here, and there's nothing we can do to get them out even once we know how." He began to pace a short oval, not noticing when his astral form passed through her desk. "This group you're in now, do you think they'll help us?"

"Eventually, yes, I believe they will. Once I've earned their trust, I'll have to tell them everything, but yes, after that they'll help, if only for the sake of the innocent people in the village."

"Even the reluctant one, this Helena Collins? And what was it you said she commented about your eyes?"

Cende's smile flashed past. "Even Helena Collins. Possibly especially Helena Collins, if only to see the place where there is no television. I don't think she believed me, but she appeared very technologically capable so it's probably not surprising."

"And the eyes?"

A quiet shrug tried to hide how disturbing Cende found this subject. "She's not the first person to comment, actually. Apparently, while I'm fighting, my eyes go completely black. No whites, no green, just black."

Davos stopped in mid-pace, one leg still in the desk, and stared at her. "You have Ratri's eyes when you fight?"

"Is that what it is?"

"Given who you are, I suspect so. And you haven't seen fit to mention this before?"

"It bothers people, Davos, and that bothers me. I'm going to start wearing dark glasses so that no one can see. What does it mean?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll find out." His form faded and blurred for a moment, then he returned. "I must leave. My wards are telling me that someone approaches, and it grows late in the morning here. Ratri's blessings on you, Papahai Dina." With that final benediction, he was gone, leaving Cende suddenly alone in the night.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 30.

Silver Spyder slammed the door of her townhouse and raged down the hallway. "How DARE she? Oh, how terrible! Working for Arachnos, you don't have to stay there, I'm in a good group, I can get you out! WHO does she think she IS?"

Toby looked up from his workbench on the far end of the living room. His deep voice rumbled mildly across the room, "Your sister?" While the simple answer could have questioned whom Spyder was referring to, the big man had heard too many rants on the subject to really wonder. His only surprise was that Spyder had finally made contact.

Spyder flopped across the couch. "Yes, my sister. My oh-so-perfect, do-no-wrong, ride to the rescue and damned what I want sister! It wasn't enough that everyone wanted her to be the leader, even though it meant my death, no, now she has to be the warrior as well as the priestess and be damned with me! And the hell of it is, she looks good doing it. I saw her while I was over lifting information from the PPD last time, did I tell you that? I'm still better than she is, but she's not bad. It's gotten to where it might almost be a fair fight... and that won't do." Spyder lapsed into silence, brooding.

Toby waited for a moment, to see if she would continue, then turned back to his project. A big man, thanks to the Arachnos enhancement programs, "Little" Toby Stevenson was a geek at heart. He had joined the Arachnos Crab Spider program because he thought they had the best toys around; when it turned out that he was also an adrenaline junkie, the Powers in Charge had decided to assign him to the Special Projects Division. Somehow, he'd wound up as Spyder's usual partner, and they'd discovered that they worked well together.

Spyder said she liked Toby because he was a point-and-shoot partner, but she also appreciated the big man's rock-like stability outside of missions. When she had managed to get this St. Martial penthouse townhouse signed over to her, fully paid, by one of her lovers (and wasn't it just too bad that his heart had given out before she'd gotten anything else from him?), she'd invited Toby to take over one of the bedrooms. After he'd accepted, she'd discovered another reason to like him - he kept the house systems working, and frequently improved them.

It was one of those systems he mentioned now. "I've gotten a new filtration system for the air scrubbers. It should help clean out the fungi you were worried about. You know, if you're so concerned about keeping all the strains pure, you probably shouldn't have quite so many varieties in the house."

"But I like all the varieties! Oh, and that reminds me. We're getting a new climber tomorrow. It's an air-rooted one, so not so bad. You'll like it; it's got a coconut scent when it flowers."

Toby sighed as he stood to install the new filter, his spider-crab legs curling in tight to avoid hitting the ceiling. "Right. So tell me again how many strains of orchids in the world there are?"

Spyder was no longer listening, having jumped up from the couch to prowl around the room. "I want her dead, I want to kill her. Little Miss Perfect, she's always had everything, always had everyone fawning all over her. It's my turn to prove that I'm the strong one; I'm the one they should have been looking to from the start. They should have wanted me, not her. She would have been easy to kill back then, but no, they tried to get rid of me and keep her... they wanted Order, they're going to get Chaos." She stopped and looked at Toby, then wailed, "But how? We're not getting anywhere! The missions we're sent on are total crap, and that's when we get anything at all! We're stuck guarding that idiot Reports Archive, and while the reports are interesting to read, it's all past tense by the time we get them!"

Toby hummed as he worked, his head and arms inside the air system. Muffled, his voice rumbled back after a moment, "Didn't you say she said she was in a group? Did she say which one?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So, use the computer. Find out what you can off the system about the group she's in and see if there's any organization that particularly stands out as working against hers. Then approach that org. If that doesn't work, go down the list until you find one that does."

"You're telling me to join up with a group other than Arachnos?" Spyder crossed to the workbench and started typing on the computer. "Aren't you supposed to be encouraging me to get in deeper, rather than pull away?"

Toby ducked his head out and looked at her in disbelief for a moment. "Spyder, if I thought for a second you could be trusted in Arachnos, I would. Hell, if I thought for a second Arachnos could be trusted with you, I would. But I don't, and I don't, so I'm not. Why do you think we got stuck in the Archives? We've blown up too many of their bases in side jobs for one faction or the other. Besides, things have gotten strange ever since we got ourselves onto the Project: Destiny list, and now they don't trust either one of us. Chances are pretty damn good I'm not getting my upgrades, and sure as hell Arachnos won't be backing you on your play for you sister. We both might as well go to another group. So find one for us."

"You're way smarter than you look, you know that?" Spyder finished typing and stretched. "I love computers. Ask them a few questions and information you never knew existed just flows in for you."

Toby came over to stand next to her, silent and looming. After a moment, he responded, "Spyder, when we get in to the new group, I'm gonna play big and dumb for a while. It'll be safer for both of us if they underestimate me; I'll be able to watch our backs a bit better."

"If you want to be stupid, you can be stupid. I'll go along with it, no problem. Man, I hate computers! They take forever to give you what you really want to know!" Spyder hit the side of the monitor with one hand and slumped back in her chair.

"Move, I'll set up the query. You go get changed, our shift starts soon." He looked at the tight leather pants and lace t-shirt she wore, "and if you show up in that, Howe will have a fit. You sure about the group name you typed in? It returned a lot of results."

"I'm sure."

"The query will run while we're on duty, and you'll get your answer when we get home. It's got too much info to go through fast, so you're going to have to do something unusual and just be patient."

"Right, right, patience," Spyder joked, as she came out in her Widow's uniform. "How long will that take?"

Despite Spyder's impatience, however, neither of them remembered to check the computer until the next morning. Toby found the query results glowing on the screen, waiting to be noticed, and he drew Spyder's attention to them. "I think you have your answer. I'm not sure you'll be able to get into this one, though."

Spyder peered at the screen, which displayed multiple lines. The one at the top was the one she was most interested in, however - 98% match: Nova Dominion. Leader: John McTavish, alias: Banestar. She smiled - that leader had a promising name, so that was the group she wanted. "There's no way to know until I try. Help me figure out how to contact this Banestar."

Spyder began to hum, suddenly and inexplicably cheerful, as she set out to contact the man who might be able to bring her first life goal within reach.

*****

Silver Spyder closed the phone with the snap and spun to look at Toby. "That was Walt at the casino. McTavish is at the Giza lounge right now, and he's just sitting there. I'm going down there."

Toby frowned. "That's awfully convenient. Are you sure that's safe?"

Spyder shrugged. "Doesn't matter if it is or not, it's my only chance to see him. We haven't been able to find any way to approach him, and if he's as good as we've heard, he probably knows I'm looking. The more we learn about him, the more I'm convinced he's a sneaky *******, and that's exactly what I want. Toby, I'm positive he's the one who can help me get to Dina, and then to the valley. I have to go see him."

"Fine, it's a setup. I'm coming with you."

"You can't come in with me directly. You're carrying too many weapons. You are too many weapons. We don't want to threaten him."

Toby snorted. "What, like you're not a weapon yourself? I know how many different kinds of poison you carry on a regular basis. But okay, I'll wait a minute and come in after. Unless I hear your usual dance music, then I'll come in immediately. You're going in that?"

Spyder looked at her tight, short skirt and barely-there top. "What's wrong with this? I look good in it, and if I'm going to meet any sort of man, I want to look my best. Let's go."

Five minutes later, Spyder walked into the Giza lounge and glanced toward Walt. The blackjack dealer nodded toward a corner table on the far wall. Smiling her thanks, she eyed the indicated table and frowned. There was no way the man would come alone, but he was sitting by himself. She shrugged, and approached openly, surreptitiously watching to see if anyone was observing. Behind her, she heard the sudden sounds of consternation as Toby walked in and crossed to the bar.

"Mr. McTavish? I'm Silver Spyder. I believe you may have been expecting me." Spyder eyed the man in black and red at the table. She thought that he would stand taller than she would, like most men did, and he had a width of shoulder that she found attractive. There was a certain set to his eyes and jaw, however, warning her that this man was not one to be taken lightly, and she wondered what it would be like to seduce him.

"You believe correctly." McTavish's voice was a smooth baritone, his tone neutral. He didn't move and did not offer her a seat, merely looked at her, waiting.

Spyder smiled slowly and shifted position to stand more comfortably. She had no problem with power games, if that's what he wanted to play. "I'm not going to waste your time telling you things you already know. I'm interested in joining your organization. I bring to you my own skills, which are still growing, my partner's skills, access to the Arbiter's Archives for as long as we have it, and," she stretched slightly, "I'm sure we can come to an agreement about anything else you would require. I just want two things in return, one of which will meet your own goals, the other of which will benefit you."

Neither McTavish's expression nor gaze changed. "And what would those be?"

Spyder draped herself into a chair across from him and leaned forward. "First, I want to kill someone. Her name is Cende. You're interested in her, as well, although you might not realize it yet. She's just become a member of Star Patrol." Spyder watched the man across from her carefully, looking for any change in expression. A brief flicker of light in his eyes was all she could see, and she shrugged slightly. "The second is that I want to destroy the Mitanni valley."

A briefly raised eyebrow was the only indication of interest from McTavish. "What does your partner bring to the table?"

"Toby? He's point and shoot, as well as being pretty much completely fearless. Arachnos has abandoned him, so he's mostly just looking for someone to give him orders."

"Very well then. Come to Nerva tonight with your partner and someone will meet you at the ferry."

*****

Spyder slammed the door to the townhouse opened and stalked through on her way to the living room. "He handed us off to a flunky. A washed out Fortunata at that! We didn't even rate someone more interesting!" Dropping her leather jacket on the floor of the kitchen on her way past, she acidly commented, "Well, that's ruined, and I'm pretty sure the pants are goners too." She fell into a chair, and studied her boots intently. "So are these. I bet Ms. I'm-So-Fancy didn't even break a nail while she sipped a latte waiting for us. I didn't think anything could be worse than trying to get through Grandville, but Primeva Island... ugh. At least we got in and out intact with the book that he wanted."

"He didn't want the book." Toby's voice rumbled down the hallway as he stopped by the closet and gathered his tools. "He just wanted us to get it. Oh, he might find some interest in it, sure, but it wasn't that important to him or he wouldn't have used it as a test to see if we survived. He's more than just a sneaky *******, Spyder, he's tough, and he'll kill you as soon as look at you. I've gotten word back from folks I know in the program... they all advise steering well clear of this guy."

"He's kinda hot in a scary way, though." Spyder had gone back to the bedrooms, and her voice drifted out clearly.

"If you ever sleep with him, you're as good as dead." Toby began to remove his armor, cleaning it carefully. "Although I have to agree with you about Primeva. I'm pretty sure we weren't alone out there, however." His voice grew thoughtful and he looked up at her as she came out of the back, now dressed in a simple t-shirt and soft house-pants. "I got the same sensor-tracking ghosts I got back at the lounge, like there was a heat or life reading that I couldn't quite pinpoint. It wouldn't surprise me at all to find he had someone tracking us, reporting back on how we did."

"What, like checking us for efficiency and how many times we fell over and how much we left standing behind us?" At Toby's nod, Spyder shrugged. "Well, if he did we don't know what he's scoring us on, so I'm not going to worry about it." She settled at the computer and flipped it on. "Let's see if he works late. Maybe we won't have to wait to find out we're in."

Spyder fidgeted as she tapped at the computer, bouncing in her chair and absently humming. Toby mostly ignored her as he worked until a soft curse caught his attention. Cursing from Spyder wasn't unusual; it was the softness that stood out to him. "What's wrong?"

"How fast can you get the translation program up?" Spyder's face was as white as her t-shirt.

In response, Toby tapped a command into the gauntlet lying on the workbench next to him and swung up the heads-up display. "Go," he said, simply, and waited to find out what happened next.

Spyder straightened in her chair and ran her fingers through her hair, then adjusted the webcam and tapped a few commands into the computer. A moment later, her screen was filled with the image of an older, almost elderly man and she gave a brief nod. "Lord Endaruta. To what do I owe this call?"

"Papahai Rata, we have not heard from you in some time and were growing concerned. How goes your mission?" Endaruta's tone could charitably be called fatherly, but there was something about it that rang false.

"As I said last time we spoke, there is a large and complicated hierarchy in Arachnos. I am moving up the ladder, but it is slow, and I have made enemies, which is only to be expected."

Endaruta frowned. "The Maryanni do not need more enemies. They already surround us."

Spyder put on her sweetest smile and leaned forward, eyes wide. "Oh, but Grandfather, I've also made allies who will be happy to see Recluse fall, and while they are strong enough to help me now, they will fall before the might of the Maryanni when we come into the world. It is exactly as you have said Indra Wills it."

"Hmph. Be careful with these allies, girl! You never know what they're going to want." Endaruta glared at her for a moment, then made an effort to relax his face back into a paternal expression again. "Have you seen your sister?"

Spyder smirked. "Yes, I finally managed to find her. She's doing just fine - for now. She tried to rescue me. "

Endaruta nodded understandingly. "She always did. That justifies my belief that she hasn't changed. She is not the right leader for the Maryanni, Papahai Rata; she is too soft. Fulfill your mission, fulfill the Prophecy, and come home. I see now that this is Indra's Will." Without any further words, the transmission cut off, and Spyder was left staring at a blank screen.

With an inarticulate scream of rage, Spyder put her fist through the monitor. "Too little, too late old man! You should have realized that before you tried to kill me! I will destroy you and take what's rightfully mine; I will claim the Maryanni in my own way and DAMN your Prophecy! I will destroy you!"

Toby sighed and hunted in the workbench for a tranquilizer dart. He knew his partner's moods, and while most of them were strange, some of the were annoying, and a few were downright vicious, it was safer to knock Spyder out before she damaged herself and everything around her when she got into this state. Well, at least the quiet would give him a chance to work on an upgrade to the hydroponics system; that should make her a little happier when she woke up, and it would keep him busy until then.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 29.

Cende,

I am pleased to offer you a probationary position within Star Patrol. I have been given to understand by your Longbow supervisor that there will be no difficulty with immediately transferring you to Reserve status. Please report to the Galaxy City supergroup portal at 9am on Tuesday morning; I will meet you there and begin your orientation.

Eli Bowman.

Tamara squealed as she read the simply worded email displayed on Cende's laptop. "She got it! The party is ON for this weekend!" A cheer rose from their four friends out in Teddy and Jack's living room.

"I got it?" Cende leaned to peer over Tamara's shoulder. "And you managed to get that thing to work, too?"

"Oh sure, getting it to work was easy." Tamara shrugged. "You had a couple of web viruses and a few spybots. Fortunately, you never actually put anything new on the machine, so I could just wipe it and reinstall it all. I put in a strong new firewall and anti-virus program; you shouldn't have any more problems. I also told it to update itself regularly. And yeah, see, you got in to Star Patrol - here, read it yourself. I'm gonna get a beer and find out who's winning." The computer tech pushed away from the table and went to the living room where Emma and Frank were playing a video racing game against Teddy and Jack.

Cende listened in amusement as the conversation drifting into the kitchen turned into a mild, friendly squabble, then sat in the chair Tamara had just vacated. Reading the email again, she carefully typed in a polite thank you and agreement, then sighed as she pressed send.

"Glad to have that confirmed, huh?" Jack was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, watching her, a couple of empty bottles in his hand.

Cende nodded.

"Yeah. Heroes, real heroes, don't belong in 'Bow. That group ultimately exists to make trouble, not fix it. Jack pushed off the door and headed to the counter, depositing the bottles in the recycling bin on the way. "Teddy stays in 'cause he has enough seniority to start getting family benefits to match what I'm getting in the Corps. We're working on Tam, but it's slow going. So when do you start?"

"Tuesday. Why Tuesday? Why not Monday?"

"Hah. Because Monday is when we all have one last blow-out to celebrate the end of summer." Laughing at her look of dubious confusion, Jack patted her on the shoulder. "It's called Labor Day. Originally, it was a day honoring people in heavy labor positions - teamsters, dockworkers, factory workers, that sort of thing. These days, I'm not sure how many of those folks actually get that day off, but most of the government shuts down anyway. School usually starts the week after, too, so it's a big party weekend. Lucky you, the D should be packed for your celebration."

*****

As Commander Bowman had indicated, switching to Longbow reserve status was easy. The next morning, Cende had no sooner stepped into the administration offices than Barb enveloped her in a fierce hug.

"I got the news first thing when I came in, hon, and I am so proud of you!" Barb bustled back around her desk and pulled out a file. "I knew you'd have to come in today, so I hustled to make sure your parting forms would be ready. Commandant will have five minutes to see you in about an hour, so you might as well sit and fill these out while you wait for him." The office admin handed the forms over to Cende and beamed. "Now, once you get out there and become famous, don't forget to stop in and say hi to us here every now and then!"

Cende shook her head. "I'll have to stop in, Barb. Who else will explain how the city paperwork all functions to me?" Barb laughed and Cende continued, "But don't worry, I am not going to become famous. I intend to stay in the shadows and just get things done quietly. There's no reason anyone should ever notice me at all."

Barb just smiled and waved Cende to the table. Sometime later, the older woman approached the table and looked over the completed forms, "Nearly done? Yeah, I see you're on the last one, good. You know, somehow your writing always looks a little different from everybody else's. You just make your letters a little more awkward."

Cende considered this for a moment as she finished the last form and then responded simply, "I learned to write in Sanskrit, which is quite lovely. Everything else just feels a little odd to me." Standing, she nodded to the office at the end. "Is he available?"

"He is. You can go on back."

As Cende approached the office door, it opened and the Commandant stepped out briefly. Waving her into his office, he left the door open and stood in front of his desk.

"Wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. You've been an asset to Longbow and I hope your choices lead you to where you need to go in the future." He cleared his throat. "I have to ask you for your communicator and your medi-porter link, of course, and your computer security clearance will be reduced, but as a reservist, you still have access to email, the bases, and these administrative offices. Also as reservist, you're to keep your uniforms. If you ever choose to reactivate, you'll be evaluated for a rank appropriate to the experience you accrue in your private work. And of course, you're still a member of Freedom Corps, so you have all those privileges, too." He crossed his arms and cleared his throat again. "Look, kid... you're a private citizen now, so you can do what you want to. I think that the registered heroes like you should probably stay as emergency contacts for Longbow rather than regulars, so from that perspective, it's a good thing you're getting out. But are you sure you should go to Star Patrol? They're a bunch of loose cannons over there, and I'd hate to see you get caught up with them when it finally lands in their faces."

Cende handed over the communicator and the Longbow medical link. "Sir, I appreciate your concern, but I believe you and I may have a different view of Star Patrol. They're a good fit for me, and I will learn a lot from them."

The commandant shook his head, "Well, if you're sure, then I'm not going to stop you. Good luck out there kid. Stay safe."

Cende thanked him and headed out of the administrative office, waving to Barb on her way out. Her tasks in the administration offices complete, she headed toward Independence Port and an appointment at the ICON tailor there.

*****

Late the next morning, Cende woke to the sounds of gunfire coming from the park behind the apartment. Listening for a moment, she determined that the disturbance was from heroes chasing thugs down rather than another gang war attempting to break out on the street corner, and turned her mind to the day's activities. She had several errands to run before the party Tamara had set up that evening, and she sighed. She didn't see the point in a loud, boisterous event, but it was important to Tamara, so Cende would go. If she didn't get laundry taken care of, however, she would wind up going in a suit and she rather thought Tamara would object.

The day passed quickly enough, and Cende was on her way back from getting a quick meal when the warning voice in the back of her head whispered "catch, left," and she instinctively turned left and held out her arms. An oddly shaped case fell into her arms from the top of a stack of boxes piled awkwardly on the loading ramp of a moving truck, and from the interior of the truck came a brief curse.

A faded ginger head appeared from around the boxes. "Damn it all, too much stuff." The man peered down on and saw the case in Cende's arms and sighed, "Oh, you caught it, thank you. Woulda hated for that to get broken..." His voice trailed off as his eyes fastened on her face, and he paled as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Danny? What's happened?" A woman's voice came from the brownstone behind her, and Cende looked over her shoulder. "Oh, my Lord, Brianna?" The woman's voice caught, and a small, dark-haired woman came out onto the stoop, hands to her mouth. Tears filled her eyes, and she shook her head. "No, you're not Bri. I'm sorry..." Turning, the woman ran back into the house.

Confused, Cende looked back at the man. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset anyone."

The man, color returning to his face, shook his head. When he spoke, a strong Irish accent colored his words. "Na, not your fault. You look like our girl Brianna did, 'fore we lost her in the first Rikti invasion. Threw me, threw her ma, that's all. Especially now," he nodded to the moving truck, "and with you holding her guitar and all." He sat down heavily on the ramp and sighed. "She gave her life so we'd all be safe here, and now here we are, leaving."

Cende looked down at the guitar case in her hands, then back at the man on the ramp. "You don't like to leave, then?"

"Paragon's been my home since I came to the States, back in '69. Met my Meg here, raised my Bri here. Nope, don't like to leave." As he spoke, the Irish accent began to fade slightly, until it was just a faint lilt again.

"Then why do you go?"

He rubbed his jaw and looked up at her. "Bri left a son for us to raise and he's getting old enough to start showing some powers." Nodding down the street, he indicated several people loitering on the corner. "Enough that all the usual suspects have started hanging about, waiting to see if he's worth taking. Meg has family out west in a little town where everyone knows everyone else. He'll be safe there." Suddenly suspicious, he frowned at her, "Say, who are you anyway?"

A slight bow accompanied the response. "My name is Cende. I am with Star Patrol." Placing the guitar on the ground at the base of the ramp, she got her FBSA identification out of her pocket and offered it to him.

"A hero, just like Brianna. You play guitar, too?"

"No, sir."

The older man looked at her for a long moment, then glanced at the brownstone. Coming to a sudden decision, he reached into the truck behind him and picked up a thin portfolio. Standing, he scooped up the guitar case and thrust both the case and the portfolio at Cende. "Take 'em, learn how to play guitar. My Brianna wouldn't want the thing sitting around gathering dust. Besides, we've got too much stuff."

Startled, Cende automatically accepted the cases. Nodding, the man turned and stomped back into the truck, disappearing behind the pile of boxes at the edge. Looking toward the brownstone, Cende saw the dark-haired woman standing in the door, tears still in her eyes. Catching Cende's eye, the woman nodded with a watery smile. Bowing again, this time to the woman in the door, Cende set off once again for home, carrying her sudden and unexpected gift.

*****

Pocket D was as loud and visually stunning as Cende had feared it would be. Fortunately, her age was apparently insufficient for alcohol and she was able to stick with iced tea, a fact for which she was profoundly grateful. The sheer number of Longbow who had turned out for the party meant they had taken over one of the smaller side lounges, and Cende quickly realized with amusement that the party was less about her and more just a chance for the unusual number of off-duty Longbow to get together and have fun.

Drifting over to the railing looking over the main floor, Cende watched the dancers below with some curiosity. A particularly bright head of hair caught her attention and she looked closer. Straightening in disbelief, she stared hard, then glanced back over her shoulder. Pulling herself over the railing, she lightly floated down to the floor below, then slipped around the edges of the crowd to where she had last seen that bright head. Stopping, she looked around in frustration, and tried to spot where the woman had gone.

Laughter came from behind her. "You're looking in the wrong direction, little sister."

Cende spun and stared. "Rata! It was you!"

Facing her was a silver-haired, blue eyed woman in tight black leather pants, black boots, and a cropped lace t-shirt. Laughing again, the woman threw her arms around Cende in a tight hug. "It's me, it's you, it's us! I've been waiting for you to find me. C'mon, there's a quieter place this way." Taking Cende by the hand, Rata led her to the other side of the club and through a pair of doors lined by torches. The lounge on the other side was strange, but it was definitely quieter, and, at the moment, mostly empty. Rata led the way to a shadowy booth in the corner and sat down, signaling for a drink.

"What do you mean you've been waiting for me?" Cende sat back as a glass of clear liquid was placed in front of her and a glass of amber placed in front of Rata.

Rata grinned. "Relax, it's water, I told them you wouldn't touch anything else." She took a healthy sip of her own drink, "Although you really ought to try whisky, it's got a nice kick. I mean, I knew you were in Paragon; I've been waiting for you to come to the D. I figured you had to get dragged in here sooner or later, everyone does. I was about to try and figure out how to sneak a message to you, though. You held out longer than I thought you would."

Cende shook her head, "Rata -"

Rata winced and held up a hand. "Silver Spyder. Call me Spyder. Nobody here knows my old name - Dina. And I'd just as soon keep it that way."

"Fine, Spyder then. What happened to you?"

"What, three years ago?" Silver Spyder waited until Cende nodded, then shrugged. "What did they tell you?"

"Just that you were on a kidnapping, that something went wrong and everyone died but you and you were lost to us."

Spyder snorted. "Figures. Well, what really happened was that it was a double-cross. We were on a kidnapping all right, but we were also getting paid to assassinate the target once the ransom got delivered. That would have been fine, except the rest of the team was also the mercenary group hired to "find" the target, getting there a little too late to save him, but able to bring back the dead body of the killer - namely, me."

"What!"

"Yep, that's Endaruta for you. Overly convoluted beyond belief. It might have worked, except for one small detail." Spyder smirked and leaned back. "Men get stupid when you have sex with them. Especially if they think you're not that bright to begin with."

Cende blinked. "You had sex with one of your team?"

Spyder laughed. "No, sweetie, I had sex with all of them. Well, except the leader, and that's only because he was married and thought he ought to remain faithful to his wife. Oh, don't look so shocked; I know perfectly well that the priestesses of Ratri aren't virginal. Anyway, I found Endaruta's orders. While we were sitting around waiting for the opportunity to make the snatch and then waiting for the ransom, I learned everything I could from them, then I turned the tables. Once the ransom drop was set up, I took out the lead that night, then each of the rest of the team, one by one. Grabbed all the valuables, turned over the target for the ransom, and then I disappeared. Found a few old men who liked having a pretty young thing on their arm in exchange for teaching me everything I needed to know about this world... and wound up in the Rogue Islands."

"But, that's terrible! And you're working for Arachnos?"

Sipping her drink, Silver Spyder shrugged, "It's not so bad. Thanks to the training I already had and the mental blocks I inherited from our mother, they put me in their special projects division and gave me some of their advanced training - and now I'm in their Project: Destiny. Once more, I'm part of a prophecy of greatness." She grinned hugely. "So, my dear twin, aside from getting taller than me and taking on the warrior part as well as the priestess part of our heritage, what have you been doing?"

"Trying not to let Endaruta kill me, mostly," admitted Cende. "I didn't want to become a fighter, but it was the only way to stay alive. I think he's gotten even more insane since you... escaped."

"Oh, like that's a surprise. And now you're in Paragon, a fancy hero." Spyder's tone was faintly mocking.

"Not fancy, no. But Rata - sorry, Spyder - you don't have to stay in the Isles! Not for very much longer. I've just joined a group, they're a good organization, and if you want out, I'm sure they'll help me get you here! All you have to do is say the word."

"A good organization. Which one would that be? Did you go all the way to the top and hook up with the Freedom Phalanx?"

Cende sighed and shook her head. "It's called Star Patrol. Please Ra... Spyder. You're my sister, I miss you, and I'm worried about you. I don't want to fight. I just want you back."

Spyder finished her drink in one long gulp then slid out of her chair and straddled Cende's lap. The two sisters were nose-to-nose, ice-blue eyes staring into forest green. "Papahai Dina, I love you," whispered Spyder.

Cende gave a quick, gentle smile. "Papahai Rata, I love you, too."

Spyder placed a single finger over Cende's lips. "Now Papahai Rata and Papahai Dina are gone; there is only Silver Spyder and Cende left here. And the next time I see you, Cende, I promise you that I will kill you."

As Cende's eyes widened in shock, Spyder stood and sauntered out of the lounge without ever looking back, passing Teddy and Jack on their way in.

"Who was that?" Teddy looked at Cende in concern.

Cende took a deep breath and tried to compose her mind and expression. "My sister," she answered sadly. "Would it be all right if we left?"

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 28.

It had in fact taken ten days to set up an interview, although Commander Bowman had indicated his willingness to do so before the initial week was up. At Cende's request, Derek had stayed in the email thread as the Commander and she had negotiated an available date and time - although she now grudgingly owned a small laptop computer, she was still novice enough in its use to want more expert help in important matters.

On the day of the interview, Cende sat on a bench in the park surrounding Atlas Plaza and watched a group of Hellions bragging to each other. As long as they didn't bother anyone, she would leave them alone, both because they weren't doing anything wrong and because she didn't particularly want to fight while wearing a suit. At the base of the stairs to her right a man wearing a white and red uniform paused after descending and glanced around; she took a closer look and stood up when she saw the distinctive star on his chest. His attention caught by her movement, he headed her way and came close enough to speak.

"Ms. Cende?" At her nod, he smiled and held out a hand. "I'm Eli Bowman, pleasure to meet you. Would you mind if we spoke out here? I'm behind a desk most of the time, and it's a nice change to get out into the air."

Before she could answer, she realized that the Hellions were yelling and running towards her. She spun to face them, wondering what had set them off, when their panic penetrated. As they ran past he towards the nearby sewer entrance, she looked around for what had spooked them, and noticed Commander Bowman had a bow in his hand and was looking to the south. Cende saw that the War Walls were down just as a siren shattered the air and a Rikti ship flickered into existence one street over.

"Do you know where to go?" Bowman had to shout to be heard over the siren that was right above their heads.

Cende nodded toward the front of City Hall, "Over there. Especially now, there's usually a training group just getting out of the Outbreak containment area. Even with the trainers and mentors along, they'll be in over their heads." Without waiting for Bowman to respond, she turned and began to sprint towards the area she had indicated, already able to see the signs of a fight beginning as Rikti teleported in.

Bowman flew low to the ground, easily keeping pace with her. "Have you fought the Rikti before?"

Glancing at him, Cende raised an eyebrow briefly. She held off on answering, however, until they had arrived at the fight in progress and she had acquired a Gunman to work on. "Only in raids like this one. Vanguard tells me I don't have a high enough security clearance to fight on their behalf yet, and I haven't come across any Rikti in my investigations."

"So you'll have figured out already that their necks, backs and upper arms are least armored." Spotting a Mentalist running toward them, Bowman started to turn the psion into a pincushion before it could get into range to do much damage. "How about the Lost? I saw that you blocked another one of their attempts to break into the Memorial, but have you run into them before?"

"Another one of their attempts? The way Ms. Moreira went on about it, I thought it was a shock to her that they tried even once. But yes, I've run into the Lost several times, although if I know I'm going to, I usually try to have help along."

"Why's that?" Bowman noted as he finished off his attacker that Cende had switched to a pair of Infantry, and he picked out his next target.

"Because having someone else to help take out those awful mentalists keeps me from having a headache for the next day." Cende kicked one of the Infantry across the courtyard and knocked the other one out. "Excuse me a moment."

Startled, Bowman watched as the young woman dashed into the thick of the fray and, with a few well placed kicks and punches, extracted a pair of youngsters. Pulling them back out with her, she told them to stay behind but close to her and keep the runners from returning to the fight.

"Who are they?" The commander's inquiry was curious rather than condemning.

"Children from the building next to mine who have recently developed some powers and think they want to be superheroes. Their mother doesn't want to let them and their father said they can only attend Hero High if they find a sponsor that isn't one of their neighbors." She ducked as a gunblade whistled toward her head then attempted to remove the offending blade from its owner's hand, a Rikti Solider half again as large as she was. From behind, Bowman's arrows found ****** in the Soldier's armor and between them they managed to take down the Soldier rapidly - only to have another 'port in nearly on top of her.

"Why won't they stop?" Cende's tone was somewhat cross as she danced out from under the Rikti, and Bowman aimed for the alien's eye slit.

"I think the real question is actually "why did they start in the first place," but that's not relevant right now." Calmly taking aim and releasing, he continued his questioning. "Your file says you're from Nepal, but it doesn't give any details on your training. Why is that?"

Cende actually paused fighting for a moment to once again glance at him, and nearly paid for her inattention with a nasty blow to her head. Even as Bowman called an alarmed, "Look out!" the intervention of her neighbors saved her. One of the kids threw an energy bolt at the Soldier's head right as the other tossed an ice patch under its feet. The teens high-fived one another as the Rikti went down, then went back to picking off runners.

Correcting her momentary lapse, Cende took the opportunity to aim a powerful kick at the large Rikti's head as it began to stand back up. As it staggered back, she finally answered Bowman's question with one of her own. "I know that my file has my explanation that I was trained in a temple. I also know that I have explained that the temple elders have ordered me to keep information about the temple secret. Are you asking me to betray the requirements of my religious leaders?"

"Good God no!" The response exploded out of Bowman vehemently. "I just hadn't realized the two were connected. Are you saying your entire history is inextricably tied up with your temple?"

The other fighters in the area let out a weary cheer as the War Walls snapped back into existence and the last few Rikti were taken care of. Bowman waited patiently as Cende interacted with several of the Longbow agents who had been in the fight, watching how she handled both those lower and higher in rank. He saw her specifically thank her neighbor kids for helping her and then had to hide a smile as she scolded them for coming out to fight against their parents' wishes. Finally, she returned to his side, her previously neat suit rumpled from the activity.

"I apologize for the delay," she began, but he waved it off as they began to walk back to where they had first arranged to meet.

"No need. I know what it's like. If there'd been anyone from Star Patrol here besides me, I would have had my own duties to take care of."

She nodded. "To answer your previous question, however... yes, my entire history is, as you say, inextricably tied to the temple. I was an orphan, raised by one of the temple leaders. My entire life, until I came here, was spent in one small valley that contained only a farming village and two temples. I know nothing else."

"Is that why you became a priestess? Because that's all you knew?"

A brief, almost not-there smile flitted across her serene face. "I became a priestess because I felt called to become a priestess. Had I wished another role, one would have been found for me."

"And why did you become a martial artist?"

"To protect those who need protecting, as my Goddess and my conscience demand."

"Don't you follow the Goddess of dreams?"

Cende nodded. "Yes, but she is more than just that. She is also the protector of the night."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Bowman looked skeptical.

Cende paused in the shadows beneath a tree. "Meaning, among other things, this." She gathered the shadows around her and faded from view.

"Hm. How well does it hold up in the direct light?" Bowman stepped out into the sunshine, keeping his eyes on where the young woman had been when she'd vanished. A flicker of movement alerted him and he was able to dimly make her out as she walked into the light. He nodded. "What are you hoping to get from a position in Star Patrol?"

Cende dropped the shadows and faced the older man. "I need to learn more about the world and about the people in it. I need to understand what it means to be a hero, both for myself and for my... my country. I have both been advised and come to see on my own that I cannot learn these things in Longbow - I need others to learn from." She spread her hands. "I am idealistic enough that I want people who are honorable. I am honest enough to admit I want a certain amount of freedom in my investigations and assignments. And I am proud enough to feel I deserve to associate with the best. Everything I have learned about the Star Patrol tells me that the people in the group are both some of the best in this city while also being honorable. I know I will have to earn the freedom, but with the other two desires fulfilled, the earning will not be onerous."

Bowman crossed his arms. "Am I wrong in assuming that, between your mention of freedom and your ability to stealth, you're interested in our special ops division?"

"No, sir, you are not wrong."

Frowning, Eli Bowman considered Cende for a long, quiet moment. Finally, he held out a hand. "Ms. Cende, it was good to meet you." As she shook his hand, he continued, "I have to speak with a few people, but I'll email an answer to you by this evening. Have a nice day." With that, he stepped back and lifted off into the sky, heading across the Plaza toward the base portal.

Cende watched him go and sighed. She'd been hoping for an immediate answer, but at least the wait wouldn't be long. Until then, she had laundry to do and, now, dry-cleaning to drop off. She had also promised to help Mrs. Purdue get supplies onto the roof to start a roof garden for the residents to enjoy, since a dumpster had recently occupied the back-yard garden. With any luck, she'd keep herself occupied without fretting until the email came in and she found out one way or the other.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 27.

Finding the City Representative after the excitement of the Freaklympics was not difficult. The poor woman was trapped in the middle of City Hall, besieged by a constant stream of interns, heroes, and phone calls. The difficult part for Cende was finding a long enough moment to make the request for a reference.

A brief lull came just before noon, when most of City Hall shut down for lunch. The representative, a Ms. Moreira, breathed a sigh of relief and deliberately turned the ringer of her cell phone off, then looked at Cende. "If you walk with me down to the Cafeteria you can have my attention but if I stay here much longer, I'll probably have another four people on me."

Cende nodded and followed Ms. Moreira back to the Freedom Corps private areas, explaining her request as they went. The representative nodded, listening.

"Well, I've certainly seen your name in some of the reports that come across my desk, and they've always been good reports. I know you've been willing to take on clearing out and mapping the sewer system occasionally for the water department, which not everyone is." She smiled. "It's an unpleasant job, but it's easier on our maintenance men when they have that sort of assistance. I'll ask for your city file and review it, but I think I can safely say that I won't have a problem giving a good reference for you to Derek's associate. There is one thing I'd like you to do while I review that file, however."

Cende waited.

Ms. Moreira looked solemn. "The task is very simple. I merely wish you to learn the history of Hero 1. There are several people whose lives were touched by him, and they've all agreed to meet with young heroes like you and tell you a little bit about his history. It's an important part of this city's background, and it very much emphasizes why we fight."

Nodding, Cende took the names the representative handed her, and headed out. Several engaging conversations later she found herself in the old Rikti bunker that held a memorial to Hero 1 and his Omega Team, accompanied by Tamara. The other woman had called as Cende was on her way here and, upon discovering Cende's destination, had invited herself along.

As they walked down the dusty hall, Tamara relayed what she remembered of the Rikti war and the battle that ended it. "The whole city was in chaos, but the heroes were on TV every night, reassuring us. I remember seeing Director Duncan a lot; she was the one who talked to the reporters the most, I think. I was only nine at the time, but I remember my mom crying when my uncle died fighting in one of the raids - he was in the fire department and was trying to get people out of a building. My brother had pictures of Hero 1 and Statesman all over his bedroom when we were growing up. I'm glad I'm getting the chance to see this place. It means a lot to everyone who lost family and friends during that time."

Cende paused and held up a hand to silence Tamara's words. Both women listened and the noise Cende heard came again - harsh voices from ahead, accompanied by the sound of metal striking metal.

"Someone's trying to break into the time capsule." Tamara's voice was grim and certain, and she reached under her jacket to pull out a pair of pistols. "How do you want to handle this, Lieutenant?"

"Give me a five second head start and come in after me. Make sure no one comes out the door. With any luck, it'll just be a few idiot Hellions and it won't take much to subdue them." Cende glanced at Tamara's pistols. "Try not to kill anyone."

Cende turned and sprinted down the hallway toward the door at the end. Tamara counted to five and charged after, skidding to a halt in the doorway and searching for a target. When she found one, she couldn’t quite stop her exclamation of surprise. "Lost? Why are the Lost breaking into the memorial?"

Ducking under a swinging stop sign, Cende was too busy to be concerned with her companion's surprise. "You can ask them that when we finish arresting them." Her next kick knocked one of her opponents clear of the fray and she heard Tamara's pistols bark sharply.

"Do that again! It's easier to shoot them if they're not all piled up on you."

As if that were a signal, the remaining four Lost closed in on Cende, makeshift weapons at the ready. Cende's focus narrowed as she dodged their blows and tried to beat down one of the largest mutants she had ever seen. Even as he swung a huge sword at her, she could feel his mind blasting at hers. Her movements slowed as she fought to keep him at bay and one of the other brawlers got a solid hit in across her shoulders with a bat.

Tamara's pistols barked again, twice, and the fighters on Cende's left fell away. She sensed more than saw the one on her right turn to menace the gunwoman, but Cende couldn't spare the attention from the psychic attacker in front of her. As she struggled under his mental attacks, she lost track of how hard she was striking him and her final kick was aimed at his throat as she came down from a dodging leap. Just before her foot connected, he struck out with his mind once more and then collapsed with his throat crushed. Cende fell to her knees, her hands cupping her head, and tried to regain control of her senses.

Several minutes later, the sounds of the room began to filter in and Cende looked up in concern. Tamara was sitting against the wall by the door, breathing harshly and irregularly, her face pale. "Are you all right?" Cende's voice was not particularly strong, but in the tomb-like silence of the memorial, it was sufficient.

Tamara nodded and held up a small plastic tube. "Asthma," she answered shortly. Shaking the tube, she held it to her mouth and pressed on it, breathing in sharply. Holding her breath, she turned her head and looked out the door as the sounds of booted feet pounded up the hallway. Letting out the breath in a relieved sigh, she motioned Cende to stay down, "Longbow. I 911'd."

A Nullifier Lieutenant and a rifleman were the first two agents through the door and they scanned the room quickly before the rifleman stepped back out and called down the hall for a medic to come up. Tamara stood and saluted the lieutenant, then calmly, if still slightly breathlessly, began to give a report.

The medic took one look at Cende and knelt down beside her. "How badly are you hurt?"

"Physically, I think it’s mostly just bruises, although one of them hit me with something." Cende peered at the medic, a man she vaguely remembered from other missions. "I don't suppose you can do anything about a headache from someone sending mental spikes through your brain, though?"

The medic shook his head, "I'm afraid not, no." He put his hand out, and a green glow surrounded them both for a brief moment. "However, there's no point in dealing with the bruises, sprains, and other types of damage I can fix when you have to put up with the psychic damage I can’t. About the only thing you can do for that headache is get some sleep."

Cende nodded and accepted his hand up. The Nullifier, seeing she was on her feet, approached her. "Good thing you were here to stop this. It would have been awful if they'd manage to get whatever they were after." He motioned toward the Lost on the floor. "We'll take care of the cleanup. You two can go back and report in. I'm sure there's any number of people who're going to be in a tizzy about this one."

As they headed out, Tamara to Longbow headquarters and Cende to report back to Representative Moreira, Cende looked down at Tamara and asked, "What's a tizzy?"

*

It had taken some doing to convince Ms. Moreira to downplay her involvement in the memorial incident to the press. Cende didn't mind the representative's insistence on placing a glowing letter of thanks in her FBSA file, but she very much did not want the publicity. Publicly, Longbow received the thanks for saving the memorial, and the city used the incident to push forward plans to create a more permanent home for the items within once the time capsule was opened the following November.

When she met with Derek Amberson the next Monday, he grinned at her. "Nice work there. Not only did you get the references I wanted, but you got a few others as well." At her lifted eyebrow, he showed her a sheaf of papers. "Head of the sewer maintenance sent over his own note, as did the police captain of the Independence Port precinct. Apparently, you also helped out in the Hollows, so Lieutenant Wincott forwarded his own comments."

"Doesn't everyone help out in the Hollows?"

"You'd be surprised how many people don't," Derek shrugged. "At any rate, I've sent a note over to Eli Bowman. He's one of the founders of Star Patrol, and a good guy. I think you'll get on well with him; he has as straightforward attitude and a no-nonsense approach to getting things done. You might even understand most of what he says."

Cende sighed. "That would be a nice change."

Derek laughed, then pulled out a buzzing smartphone. "Hey, look here, he's responded. Noncommittal, but he's willing to look at your file. OK kid, get going, I'm sure you have other things to do. I'll send this to him and let you know what he says. Don't worry unless it gets to be over a week, the guy's busy."

The art is fabulous.

Poor Ray and Sorina, plagued by being too useful. At least they got the afternoon before the next stage of disaster broke out.

And it's not my fault.

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 26.

When Cende had approached him, Derek Amberson of ELITE agreed to contact Star Patrol for her, but pointed out that it would be a good idea if she had a few more references lined up before he did.

"Go ask the City Rep to the FBSA for starters," he'd advised. "She's usually in the City Hall for Atlas Park. She'll vouch for the work you've done on behalf of the city. Talk to the folks you know in the PPD as well, and let me know which precinct captain or security chief will speak for you." He shrugged. "Normally, your Longbow and Freedom Corp files would be sufficient, but you haven't been in town very long and your background's a little opaque. The Star Patrol's careful about who they take on these days. I know you're good people, but I'd like to pass on more than just my word for it."

Cende had agreed to his suggestion, and gone first to the Security Chief for Boomtown. With her ongoing investigations into the Council and their continued attempts to create new bases in the ruined area, he had been a long-time asset for her. He'd said more than once that if he could repay her for making his job easier she had only to ask; she hoped that he'd now be willing to speak on her behalf to Derek's contact in the Star Patrol.

As she explained her request, the Chief started to grin. "You're the first hero to ever ask me for something like that, you know? A lot of them hardly talk to us at all - don't even notice we're around most of the time. They notice when we're not there to do their cleanup, though, that's for sure! Sure, I'll be a reference for you, no problem. I've heard of Star Patrol, too. Heard about some things that happened a couple of years back. If what I heard was even half-true, then I've got a lot of respect for them, they've got real integrity. I'd steer you away from any group I thought was a bad one, but I think you found one of the best. Here's my precinct contact information; they can email me anytime."

Finding the City Representative had been considerably more difficult. The woman had been out the first time Cende had tried to meet with her. Then every hero in the city - including Cende - found their hands suddenly full for the next two weeks. The Freakshow had started a new version of the Freaklympics - one open to every villain group in the city. Rumors abounded on what the actual prize was - information or magical artifacts were the usual guesses, since everyone agreed that the Freaks wouldn’t give up technology - but whatever it was certain caused most of the villainous groups in the city to come streaming out of their hiding places. New events were announced daily, and violence spread like wildfire. It wasn't until a mixed group of heroes stumbled across the Freak leader Dreck in the course of another investigation that the Freaklympics were brought to a halt.

It was Emma, finally transferred into the Intelligence division of Freedom Corps, who filled Cende and her friends in on the ending of the event.

"So this completely random working team had just been put together by the Longbow Practical Utility Group AI. They'd signed up to be part of a test program to see if the AI can match abilities, temperaments, and a few other factors to get an investigating group together -"

"Oh, yeah, I'd heard about that program," Tamara interrupted. "How's that going, anyway?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Terrible. The PUG AI is very logical, very precise, and usually very wrong. The fact that this group could tie their own shoelaces without arguing about which way the ground lay was amazing, but apparently when it came time to fight they figured out how to work together well enough to get the job done. The reason they found Dreck in the first place was because they were in the wrong warehouse."

Teddy, who had just taken a sip of water, started choking as he tried to laugh. Jack, thumping Teddy on the back, snorted. "Well, that's not hard. I've seen the locator beacons support gives out. Hell, I've received the locator beacons support gives out. Some of those warehouses are packed pretty close together."

Emma grinned. "Yes, but the warehouse they were sent to was on Talos Island. The one they actually arrived at was in Skyway. None of the locator beacons are that bad!" She shrugged. "Anyway, once the group realized they were going up against Dreck's main crew, they had the sense to send a message back to command and control. C&C dispatched about as much of the PPD as they could, along with a Longbow backup squad, and were frantically trying to find more supers. It was a shock to everyone when this group managed to take Dreck down and find a biometric lock-box."

"What was in the box?" Cende asked.

This time Frank answered. "We have no idea." The big man shrugged, then pushed his plate away and put one arm across the back of Emma's chair. "I got tagged to take the thing from PPD and cart it down to Azuria's vault, so I figure it has to be magical, but they aren't releasing any information about it. From Director Duncan's comments to the press today, I figure they're not going to release any, either. I suspect the reasoning is that the people who need to know what it is do and the ones who don't need to know what it is probably shouldn't be tempted to go stealing it."

Cende nodded, and looked around the table at the people who had become her friends. Emma was snuggled into Frank's side - it had taken patience and several weeks of persistent effort, but she had finally convinced him that they would make a great couple, and they seemed to be happy together. Jack and Teddy had recently moved into the fifth floor apartment of Mrs. Purdue's building and were discussing the possibility of adopting; Cende just wasn't sure if they were talking about a child or a puppy. Tamara caught Cende's roving eye and smirked knowingly. Tamara claimed to be in post-jerk mode and had been going out with a string of Longbow officers "just for fun." Now the computer specialist leaned back in her chair and stretched.

"So, I know Emma and Frank have a romantic comedy DVD back at the apartment they very specifically asked me to not come home for," Tamara started, grinning at her roommate as Emma blushed and Frank laughed. "And I'm meeting some folks from support at the D anyway. How about it, guys - you want to come party with us?"

Jack and Teddy looked at each other for a moment, then Teddy shrugged, "Sure. We've both got tomorrow off and don't have to be anywhere early. Cende, are you coming?"

Cende shook her head at the same time Tamara said, "The Priestess there never does. I managed to get a promise out of her though, that when she gets accepted into Star Patrol, she'll come have a celebration with us!"

"If," Cende protested. "If I get into Star Patrol, not when. They might not accept me."

Frank stood, and offered his hand to Emma. "Cen, if they don't accept you we'll all send email and ask them what the hell they were thinking. When they do, however, we'll be at the party and help you celebrate. Goodnight, folks. Stay safe out there."

Parting from the others, Cende gathered shadows around her and lifted in the air to fly back to her apartment. She could easily take the tram, and it would perhaps be a bit quicker, but she objected to being confined in moving metal boxes - especially after seeing the wreckage of the monorail tracks in Boomtown.

Flying, she had discovered, was a delight. Even more than wrapping shadows around herself and walking unseen through the city, flying gave her a sense of true freedom. As long as she had access to open sky, she could escape from anything or anywhere. The ability to fly, along with the ability to wrap shadows around herself, came from talismans sent to her by Davos and she hoped to be able to be able to thank him soon.

Arriving home, she paused to check the branches of the tree in front of the house. A rumbling purr greeted her, and she reached out to pet the furry ears of Mr. Chuckles. "Were you waiting for me, then? Well, come on, time to go inside." She lifted him from the branch and took him around to the partially opened second-story window that led to Mrs. Purdue's apartment. Putting him on the sill, she pushed gently and he leapt in, landing with a thump that clearly carried back to her. Dropping down, she landed neatly in front of her own doorway and went in.

Cende spoke a quiet word as she entered and candles around the room lit in quick succession. In the gentle light, the room didn't look quite so shabby, although with only her few possessions, it still seemed rather bare. Crossing to her altar, she knelt and lit a candle that she had prepared earlier. Closing her eyes, she said a quiet prayer that the beacon would work and her message had been received, then settled in to wait.

"It took you long enough, Dina. I was beginning to get worried." Davos' tenor voice was both amused and scolding.

Cende turned and her eyes lit up at the nearly transparent form of her friend standing in the middle of her apartment. "Davos! It's good to see you again. I apologize for the delay, though. This is the first opportunity I've had - some of the ingredients were a little difficult to find and until recently, I've not had the privacy."

Davos nodded. "Gephel warned me about the ingredients possibly being scarce, and we thought it might have been that. First, did you get the talismans?"

Cende's rare smiled appeared and she showed him the chain she had wrapped around her neck. "I did, and they're wonderful. Please, send my thanks back to everyone who worked on them."

Davos smiled, "Pema said they're working on a "better version." I have no idea what she's talking about, but she said you wouldn't be able to lose the new form." He looked around the room critically, then back at Cende. "Is this place really as bad as it looks?"

Cende, who had just gotten a bottle of water from her fridge, sank down cross-legged onto her bed. "Worse. Davos, you have no idea what it's like here. It's loud, it's garish, and it's bright. The people are confusing, and there is no way the common folk of the Mitanni valley can ever join the rest of the world if it's all like this without an awful lot of help. If I weren't learning so very much, I would be doubting that we had read Ratri's signs correctly at all and begging to come home."

Davos frowned. "What about your Marcus Cole? Is he not helping you?"

Cende sighed. "I haven't met him. I've seen him a few times, but there's no way to get close to him. It would be like a... a... farmer girl trying to meet Gephel. So many layers of people surround him that I don't even know where to start. But Davos, he's a leader, and the people of this city look up to him and turn to him for guidance when there's trouble. Perhaps that's what Ratri was guiding me here for, to learn from his example."

Davos considered Cende for a long moment, then mirrored her pose on the bed, hovering a few inches above the surface. "All right, tell me everything. Start at the beginning, and don't skip anything. We'll figure it out."

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 25.

Two weeks later, Cende paused after leaving the archive room and listened a moment. The men in the office were talking, and it was frequently worthwhile to hear what they had to say about the groups she was looking into. Today, however, she was surprised.

"Man, I wish I could get her number. Looks like summer, talks like poetry, and she's tall enough to dance with!" That was Frank, who frequently complained that the girls he knew were all too short.

"She could also turn you into a pretzel," responded Teddy. "And she lives like a nun. Jack and I helped her move out of dorm housing and into an apartment near the Steel Canyon tunnel over in Atlas Park. Place is a furnished basement studio, and she's got next to nothing in it except for what it came with."

"Ooh, hey, if you know where she lives, would you show me? I could bump into her sometime... Hey, what'd you hit me for?"

Cende shook her head and moved off. She was beginning to understand that the people in this place had a lot more freedom in choosing their romantic partners than they did back home, and some people took advantage of that freedom frequently - such as Brittany, her now-former roommate. Emma had mentioned that the would-be superstar had left Longbow suddenly shortly after Cende had moved out, with extravagant claims of a wealthy new patron who would sponsor her in movies. Cende had merely said she wished Brittany well - and later asked Mrs. Purdue what a "sugar daddy" was. Mrs. Purdue had laughed and told her that she was a good girl who was better off not knowing such things.

It was strange, she reflected now, that of all the people in Longbow and Freedom Corps, the genuinely kind ones had been found in the offices rather than out in the field. That might be something worth thinking on later. For now, however, she had other considerations.

Finding an open conference room, she settled at the table, and gazed down at the detailed file she'd requested. Star Patrol. Everything she'd heard and read indicated that this was a highly respected group, connected with all of the major organizations in the area. Their focus on efficiency appealed to her, as did their philosophy of heroism. What interested her the most, however, was their special operations division. The skills represented by that group encompassed many of the abilities she had been taught by the Maryanni and she thought that perhaps here she could learn how to turn the craft of a predator into that of a protector.

This, then, was the group she would approach for membership - once she figured out how. She began to scan the associations listing, looking for a possible point of mutual contact when a shadow fell over the folder. Looking up, she met the eyes of Lieutenant Jameson and noted with some confusion the warm, welcoming smile he wore.

"Well, hey, look who it is." Rather than the dismissive tones he had always used with her before, his voice was now silky smooth. "I haven't had a chance to see you since you were promoted. I wanted to tell you congratulations." He sat down next to her and draped an arm across the back of her chair, then leaned in close. "You know, if you'd like, we could get some dinner together, and I could answer any questions you have about being a louie. Plus, I'd like to make up to you any... inadvertent insults I might have given you while you were on my squad. I didn’t want to play favorites, you know, not with someone as hot as you on the team. It causes problems." He moved his arm from the back of her chair to across her shoulders, and began to stroke her arm.

Cende tilted her head at him. "Lieutenant Jameson, I really do not like to be touched. Please stop. And thank you for the offer of assistance, but I don't believe it will be necessary."

Jameson licked his lower lip and moved a little nearer, "Oh, c'mon honey, when you get to know me, you'll discover I'm really not that bad."

Cende put one hand on Jameson's chest and pushed. "Lieutenant, you do not like me. I do not like you. Please stop now."

From the doorway, Frank's voice drifted in, unamused, "Smooth, Jameson. Real smooth. Is that how you get all your girls, you corner them?"

Jameson scowled and stood to face Frank, fists clenched. Frank loomed over the other man, waiting, until Jameson backed down. Pushing past Frank, Jameson growled, "You just watch yourself, con. You screw up, I'll be ready," and disappeared down the hallway.

Frank made a face at Jameson's departing back, then looked at Cende. "You ok?"

Cende nodded. "I am fine. Is he all right? That was very strange behavior for him."

Frank laughed harshly. "Not that strange. He seduces most of the post-high school interns. They get fluttery that a Longbow louie is interested in them, then fall all over themselves and right into his bed. He's usually got three or four of them on a string at a time. He's never tried another officer before as far as I know, and I've never seen him that stupidly clumsy. "

"You've known him for a while?"

"Yeah. He was around when I was arrested. He argued against my joining Freedom Corps, but since I wasn't actually trying to get into Longbow, there wasn't much he could say." Frank looked away for a moment then back, "I was a Carnie, one of their Strongmen. Wasn't much of one, and wasn't in it for long. Didn't mean to get mixed up with them, just got caught up in a party they held. About the only good thing you can say for that is when you're a mind-controlled minion of a psychic tyrant, the law doesn’t hold you fully responsible for your actions. I got off with community service. I paid that, and Freedom Corps' my way of helping the people who got me out. Jameson doesn't believe in redemption, though, and he's on any of us in the Corps who've got a past."

Cende touched Frank's hand gently, and the big man smiled down at her. "Past is past, though, and there's good stuff coming in the future. So, you picked Star Patrol, huh? They're a good group. Not everyone in Longbow likes 'em, but that's all right. There's a lot of people not to like in Longbow, too."

"The only question I have now is how to get in touch with them."

"Oh, that's easy. They've got FBSA contacts just like everyone else. Look, it says here that one of their bigwigs knows Derek up in ELITE; you've done work for Derek before, so go talk to him. He’ll set you up right and tight."

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 24.

It was two days after her appointments that Cende finally managed to get to see Mrs. Purdue about the apartment that was being held for her. She was still restricted to base but Tamara and Emma had shown up with orders from the Commandant to escort her to the apartment, so she had gone as instructed.

The first thing that Cende noticed about Mrs. Rose Purdue was a distinct similarity to her old teacher Jamyang. The second thing she noticed was that Mrs. Purdue had begun yelling at a cat in a tree. The three young women came to a halt a few feet away and exchanged puzzled glances. Shrugging, Cende stepped forward.

"Ma'am? Would you like me to get your cat down?"

Mrs. Purdue peered around the tree at Cende and narrowed her eyes for a moment. "OH! You must be my appointment! I'm sorry, so sorry, but Mr. Chuckles gets up there and gets stuck. Can you get him down?"

Cende nodded, and flew up to the top of the tree. Peering into the leaves, she saw an enormous black and white tomcat perched on the thinnest branch it could reasonably sit on looking back at her calmly. Switching into her native tongue, she said with some mild amusement, "You're not stuck, are you? You're just lazy and want someone to fetch you down. Well, come on then, let us not keep your lady waiting." Holding out her arms to the cat, she drifted closer, then let out a soft "oof" as Mr. Chuckles jumped to her and she realized he was even larger than she had initially thought.

Mrs. Purdue was beaming when she landed. "Oh, that's wonderful. And you're a strong thing, Mr. Chuckles weighs over twenty-five pounds, he's far too much for me to pick up. But he likes you. That's a good sign. Come in, come in, I'll show you the place."

Obediently following the old woman, the girls went into the apartment and up to the fifth floor. Mrs. Purdue nattered on the way up about the Longbow and Freedom Corps members who lived in the other apartments, until they reached the top. "It's a long way up, but for you, it shouldn't be so bad. And it’s really very nice, I recently had it renovated. I'm doing them all as people move out, you see. Have to keep them up to date for my heroes!" She opened the door with a proud smile. "Here you go, it takes up the entire left half of the floor. You'll have plenty of space."

Cende stepped into a bright, spacious, and open apartment, Emma and Tamara right behind. While the other two girls looked through every room and exclaimed over certain features, Cende walked through once, and came back to stand by the door.

Mrs. Purdue looked quizzically at Cende. "You don't like it?"

"It's lovely. It's just... it's too much. This room," Cende indicated the living room, "It's bigger than the entire space I've had to myself for all of my life. I don't need it. Also..." she paused.

Mrs. Purdue laughed creakily. "Let me guess - you're from overseas. No furniture?"

Cende nodded.

Eyeing Cende for a long moment, Mrs. Purdue seemed to come to a decision. Calling out, "Girls, close the door when you're done and come downstairs to the back," she motioned Cende to follow her. "Normally, I wouldn't rent the place I'm about to show you. I keep it for short-term boarders, because, well... you'll see. It's tiny, and it tends to be a little on the cold side, but it's furnished. You'll need to have your own linens and kitchenware, of course, but that's all it needs. I haven't updated it in a long time, though." Smiling at Cende's puzzled expression as they went out the front and around the side, Mrs. Purdue added, "And best of all, it has its own entry. You strike me as the independent sort, just like the cat."

They descended four stairs to an entry below street level and Mrs. Purdue opened the heavy metal door. Reaching inside for the light-switch, she smiled at the tall young woman, "After you. And pardon the dust; I haven't been down here recently."

Cende entered into a single room. The walls were blank white and the carpet was a dingy blue-gray, frayed in places. Along the left wall after the door were a few cabinets, a small refrigerator, a sink and a two-plate stove, while just beyond that was a closed door, presumably to the bathroom. A double bed was on the far wall across from the bath. Along the same wall as the entry was a couch and coffee table, while a few bookshelves and a desk lined the right wall itself. All together, the entire room was about three hundred square feet, perhaps a little smaller.

It was, in fact, somewhat chilly, despite the warm summer day outside. The electric light in the ceiling left pockets of shadows in the corners that the small, high windows let in very little daylight to offset. Cende moved into the open space at the foot of the bed and gauged how much room there was, then looked at Mrs. Purdue.

"Will you accept a two year lease?"

Rose Purdue blinked. "You're not even going to ask how much?"

Cende shook her head. "I am given to understand that rent prices are set by the owner and may not be bargained down. You will tell me how much, and I will arrange for a bankers check to arrive for that amount. I agree this place is not as... as new as the one upstairs, but it is the right size. It will do. Will you accept two years?"

"Why two years?" Mrs. Purdue's tone was genuinely curious.

"Because the last phases of my life have been in two year terms and I see no reason to expect that to change."

"Well then. I think I hear your friends. I'll just send them down and go get the lease papers."

Emma and Tamara were dismayed at the studio, calling it miniscule and dark. Cende distracted them, once she signed the lease, by convincing them that part of their orders to get her into an apartment included shopping for linens and kitchenware. It was those purchases, along with her uniforms and personal possessions, that she needed Teddy and Jack's help in moving a few days later.

She had finally finished packing everything together and was staring in consternation at the pile of boxes and bags when Teddy and Jack had dropped by to fetch her for dinner. With the signing of her lease, her confinement to base had been lifted, and she'd received unexpected news in addition.

"Hey, Lieutenant Cende!" Jack's bass voice carried down the hallway. "Your party has arrived!"

Tamara looked up from her book, "Party? You didn't tell me you were having a party to celebrate!"

Teddy laughed from the doorway. "She's not; Jack's just being an ***, as usual. Pre-arranged dinner, it's just that we saw the notice come through right as I got off shift. Congrats, Cende."

"Thank you." Cende shook her head, "Although I'm not sure I did anything for it. I think I was a ... test pig."

Tamara giggled. "Guinea pig. Or test rat. And maybe, but it can't hurt your chances of getting into a good group. So... is this pre-arranged dinner all set, or can someone else beg to come along?"

Jack was looking at the pile on Cende's bed and answered absently, "The more the merrier. Cende, are you having a fire sale, or is this all here for a reason?"

"It's there because I'm supposed to be moving, but I'm not sure how to get it all over to the apartment. There's too much of it for one trip and I don't want to leave it for long. I think my access to the dorms is being shut off this evening."

"Oh, well, that's easy." Jack reached down and picked up one of the larger boxes. "Tam, you get those two bags. Ted, take that other box. Cen, if you get your duffel and the last bag, that's everything, and we can drop it all off on the way to dinner. "

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 23.

The physical had been a bit of an eye-opening experience in a completely different way. With polite intransigence, Cende had refused to get undressed and with equally polite insistence, the nurse had demanded that she do so. Upon arrival of the doctor, Cende had cited religious issues with nudity, and a compromise had been worked out in the form of an enveloping operating robe. Even with the robe in place, it had been a near thing in keeping her shoulders covered. More distressing than that, however, was the number of machines they had hooked her up to in order to get readings and the amount of "samples" they had taken for analysis.

The nurse who escorted her through the process was disturbingly cheerful about the whole thing. "You're incredibly healthy, for someone who's been injured in the field but never come in. Field medics are one thing, but you heal really well! Don't wiggle; this will only take a minute. It wouldn't be so bad if you didn't have to do it all at once, normally we get you three or four times over the first month, but they want everything done right now, and you never came in at all to start with. Okay, open wide, I've got to get a DNA swab off your cheek!"

The flow of chatter never quite ceased, and at the end of an hour and a half, Cende was left in a changing room with her clothing, a lollipop, and a cheerful, "We'll have a lot of the results a little later today, the rest will be tomorrow or the next day, but you're healthy, so there's no medical reason to keep you confined to the base any longer than today. And come in next time you’re hurt, there's no need to be so shy!"

Slightly overwhelmed, Cende dressed in a bit of a daze and wandered out to the main area of the Freedom Corps building. She was considering Wattamatasa's words from earlier and aiming slowly towards the super-group archive when a strong, deep voice caught her attention and she stilled, listening.

"No, there is no evidence at this time to indicate that the so-called "Ghost Ship" is anything to be concerned about. Numina and other heroes are still investigating what causes it. If anyone sees the ship, they should simply stay out of its way and call PPD."

Cende turned in the direction the man's voice came from and she moved closer. Other voices came from the same direction, calling out questions, and as she stepped into a side room, the man spoke again, apparently answering a question she had missed.

"Yes, the Hamidon is still confined to the Hive, and yes, it is being monitored. At this time, there is no sign of further mutation or evolution. "

The room was filled with rows of chairs, each occupied by an individual holding a notepad or a recorder. Longbow stood stationed at the doors and large cameras at the back of the room pointed forward, aimed squarely toward the podium in the front. All this Cende noted only distantly, her eyes seeking out the owner of the voice and finally, for the first time, seeing in person the man she had dreamed of for three years.

Statesman stood tall and straight, his voice rolling out over the room as he answered each question in turn. Cende found herself wishing she could see his eyes, but they were hidden behind the mask of his uniform and the little bit of his facial expression she could see was of polite professionalism. She studied his movements, listened to his voice without really hearing the words, and wondered how she would ever manage to approach him.

A stir at the door behind the speaker's podium caught Statesman's attention, and he held up his hand to pause the questions being thrown to him. Turning away for a moment, he spoke quietly with the person at the door then returned his focus to the reporters. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry, but we have to cut this short for today. There's been a Nemesis uprising in Peregrine, and the Phalanx has been asked to come help put it down. I'm sure your editors have more information for you." With that, he turned and left.

The Longbow agent next to Cende shook his head and turned, then started with surprise, "Oh, Cende! Didn't see you come in. Didn't know you got door-duty. It's the only time I get out of archives, myself."

"Hello, Teddy." Cende shook her head. "I'm not on duty, I just heard his voice, and came to see what it was." She fell into step beside the smaller man as he started down the hall to archives.

"Ah, never been to one of the weekly reports, huh? They happen every Wednesday. Always the same questions from the same reporters with the same answers. Dull as dirt, and I'd probably just scream at them all that the answers never change, but somehow he puts up with it and makes it sound like he's answering them for the first time, every time. Maybe it's because he's immortal, he's got more patience than the rest of us." Teddy shrugged then cocked an eyebrow at her as she followed him into the archives office. "You're actually coming in then? And here I thought I was just getting lucky with your company. What are you looking up?"

One of Cende's brief smiles slipped out. "Company is always nice, but yes, I was coming in here. I'm looking up super-groups."

"Ugh." Teddy slid into a chair behind a desk and pulled a keyboard to him. "There's several hundred of them, and I doubt you want to look at the records of all of them. Can you narrow down the criteria a little? Are you investigating one, or are you doing something sensible and joining one?"

"Several hundred?" Cende sank into a chair. "No, I don't want to go through that many just to find one I wish to join. Can that thing really keep me from having to look through all the records?" She looked at the computer dubiously.

"You're gonna have to get over that technophobia of yours sooner or later. You have a login, you know, and you should know how to use it. Look, I'll make you a deal. You come with me and Jack to a few Indian restaurants and tell us if they're any authentic good, and we'll teach you the basics of logging in, doing your reports and getting Longbow info, ok?"

"Indian restaurants?" Cende was interested to hear more about these. Restaurants had been briefly covered in the using money seminar, and she had made a note to find ones that served something she could eat.

"Yeah, see, we’re taking a cross-culture diversity course at Paragon U, and we're supposed to try authentic foods we've never had before and write about them. Well, we've got no way of knowing how authentic a place is. I figure, you're from the area, you do. We've got a list of places we wanted to try, you'll just make it that much easier."

"For the chance to have real food I'll learn to use your machine, so yes, you have an agreement."

"That's the spirit!" Teddy laughed. "But for now, let's figure out what you want in a super-group."

So, in the Union GG and PD gathering times, is it generally permissible for one to lurk quietly in the background, being an appreciative (if confused) audience as one gets a feel for the community and situations before deciding if it's a reasonable fit?

Since this story is very long, comments go into a separate comment thread. The comment thread can be found here.

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Chapter 22.

"So tell me about your dream."

Cende, perched on the edge of a too-soft chair in a pastel office, blinked at the woman across from her. "Pardon?" Like the office, the woman was all rounded edges and soft colors, well-padded and gently worn-in. Her eyes were sharp, however, and she reminded Cende of some of her teachers in the temple.

"The dream you were having when your roommate tried to wake you. It was apparently traumatic enough to cause you to strike out. Tell me about it."

Cende sighed to herself, and ran through a quick exercise to fortify her mental defenses. In the temple, questions like these would often be accompanied by mental scans, and she had no reason to suspect that this place was any different in that regard; especially given the interview she'd had the morning after the incident in question.

Dropping off the data drive had been easy enough. She'd returned with enough time to shower and change into her suit, prepared to spend the day in seminars. Stopping in the analytics office, she spent a moment speaking with the technicians there. Checking the time as she left that office, she sighed and decided to go by the administrative offices and find out whom she was going to have to speak with about Brittany.

Barb looked up from her computer as Cende stepped into the office. "Huh. If I hadn't seen your public info, I woulda sworn you were psychic. I only just got the note to have you summoned to the Commandant's office."

Cende shook her head. "Not psychic, I just thought I would get it over with, and you'd know who I had to see. Where's the Commandant's office?"

Barb pointed to a door at the end of the room, "There. He ain't with nobody right now, so you'll probably be able to get in. Go on down and I'll call to tell him." She gave the younger woman a sympathetic look, "What happened, anyway, hon? You don't seem like the type to get into trouble."

"Just an accident, honestly."

"Well, hon, the Commandant don't usually see people on account of accidents, but maybe there's something else going on, too. Go on, go back. I'll call and tell him you’re here."

The Commandant had turned out to be a bit of a surprise. A short, spare man, he was dressed in a basic field uniform and Cende realized that she would never have recognized him as a special individual in the hallways. His hood and mask were currently pushed back, showing a face lightly lined with age and brown hair cut short to his head. He waved her into his office and, as she entered, pulled the blinds covering the window to the outer office open.

"Can never be too careful with a pretty girl in the office," he said brusquely, as he shut the door. "Don't need people to overhear, but this way there's witnesses. Better for both of us." He moved behind his desk and started to sit, then looked up at her. "Sit, sit. That's better. Now, look here. You've been with Longbow for a few months now, and you've been in a deliberately accelerated program. I wasn't sure it was a good idea, you being foreign and all, but you were working out all right. We were about to clear you, in fact. At least until last night. So what the hell happened?"

Cende wasn't entirely sure she'd followed all of this, but she answered what she thought he was asking, "I was caught in a dream because of the demons we fought, and the girl we found. I am not used to being woken from dreams, and didn't realize it was Brittany at first. I tried to pull the strike."

"Huh. There's so many questions that come up from just that, I don't even know where to start. Not my problem, however. One bad reaction to a nightmare isn't enough to completely derail you, just put it back a little. You are to go see Dr. Wattamatasa in Psych for an evaluation. I'm also told you haven't had a physical yet, so you have to get that done. Based on the results they come up with, we'll go from there." He sorted through the papers on his desk. "Additionally, I've received no less than three recommendations that you go into private housing, and these are not the sorts of "recommendations" that I can ignore. Go talk to Rose Purdue as soon as you have the opportunity. She has an opening in her building at the moment, and she's holding it for you for a few days as a favor to me. Get the address from Barb." He nodded to her once, then bent his head to begin reading one of the many files scattered across the desk's surface. "Dismissed. Close the blinds on the way out."

Setting up the physical and the appointment with Dr. Wattamatasa had been simple; Barb had simply arranged it in the computer when Cende had asked what was needed, then handed her the address for Mrs. Purdue. Cende left the administration office feeling rather confused, but thought perhaps her appointments might give her the information she was missing.

That had all been yesterday. The appointments Barb had set up for her were originally for several days from now, but as she had left the final financial seminar at the end of the day, she had been approached by one of the interns and informed that not only had her appointments been moved forward, but that she was confined to base until further notice.

So now she sat, first thing in the morning, in a soft room on a soft chair and looked at a woman who appeared deceptively soft, and hoped she wasn't about to fall into a trap that could end her new life before it had accomplished anything useful. As it was, Cende had managed to waste the first twenty minutes of the appointment by politely asking for explanations of what a psychologist did before Dr. Wattamatasa was able to ask her own question.

Cende took a quiet breath and held it for a moment, then slowly blew it out before replying. "The dream itself was simply fighting the demons Longbow had faced on a mission earlier in the evening."

Dr. Wattamatasa raised an eyebrow, "Simply fighting? That doesn't explain why you struck out."

Cende tilted her head, "Well, it does, of course. A trained fighter, when fighting in dreams, will often strike out if they are touched in a manner in which they not expecting. It's why fighters are taught to get attention in specific ways within their group - it's for any stressful situation, but safe for dreams, as well."

The psychologist leaned back. "You sound almost knowledgeable about this. Did you practice your response before coming?"

"I am a priestess, Doctor, and my Goddess is the protector of dreams. I have been studying and interpreting dreams for years now. I am knowledgeable about this."

"Oh, yes, that's right." Wattamatasa opened a file from the table next to her, and glanced at it. "It says here that you're from the temple of... Ratri?"

Cende nodded.

"There's very little here about your religious observations. Would you care to elaborate on those?"

Cende allowed a long silence to form then attempted to make her expression somewhat friendlier as she answered. "No. The temple prefers to keep its practices private to those who follow the Goddess. You will understand that I must follow the dictates of the temple elders in this?"

Wattamatasa smiled tightly and nodded. "Of course. Well, in that case, can you perhaps tell me what may have triggered dreaming about the demons?"

Closing her eyes, Cende nodded. "There was a young girl. She had been... sacrificed. Ripped apart is perhaps more accurate." Opening her eyes, she met the doctor's gaze steadily. "She was the same age, the same size and had the same hair as one of my students. It was hard not to see Rinchen in that girl's place."

"Ah. So, you're a priestess and a teacher. Why are you also a fighter?"

"All of the priests and priestess teach - there's nothing special in that. I fight because Ratri is the protector of dreams, the protector of the night. I believe that by making the night, and the world as a whole, a safer place, we serve Her wishes."

"I see. And is that why you go out in the middle of the night? Your file has a note from the Longbow Monitoring AI indicating that your arrest records fall across multiple time sections, despite being in day-duty housing. It also has a note from the Housing Coordinator indicating reports from Security, Hall Monitors, and various residents that you often leave in the middle of the night and do not come back until late the next night. Both of these notes strongly recommend you be shifted to independent housing as a result. Don't you sleep?"

Cende blinked. That would be two of the recommendations the Commandant had mentioned, and she wondered whom the third was from. "I sleep, yes, just not very long. I don't seem to need it."

Wattamatasa sighed. "All right. You stonewall better than anyone else I've seen recently, and I'm not a good enough psychic to get past your shields. I'd love to know who taught you those, and if everyone in your temple can do that, I'm glad you're on our side. Honestly, from your file and your actions, I think you're about as stable as any superhero tends to be, and your religious background doesn't hurt. One little dream doesn't change that, but you had to come in anyway because it resulted in a colleague getting injured." She shrugged. "You have slightly asocial tendencies, but that could just as easily be culture shock. You've only been in the here in the US for four months, and I don't know enough about Southeast Asian culture to know what to look for. I will say this, however," the psychologist paused long enough to fix Cende with a firm look. "You need to get out of Longbow. Find a real group. Go into records and look for one that'll work with you, let you grow. Longbow will stifle you. Whatever you're here for, whatever you're trying to find, you'll find it out there, not in here under all the bureaucracy. I'll make sure the report I write lets you out of here, but you have to do the rest."

"I... oh. Thank you. May I ask, though...?"

"Yes?"

"The Commandant said there were three recommendations I be moved out to private housing. Who was the third?"

Wattamatasa checked the file. "The FBSA/Freedom Corp coordinator. It looks like he's upset both because he doesn't want registered heroes bunking in with Longbow, and because he feels having you in a dorm is detrimental to your position as liaison to a sister program in Nepal. Are you really a liaison?"

Cende shrugged. "If I ever understand what the FBSA is actually doing, then possibly. At the very least, I am taking notes to send back home. What they do with it will not be my decision." True enough. Hopefully, it will be something Gephel and Davos will be able to implement, however, and then we won't be dependent on Endaruta's whim for training people to be ready for the outside world.

Wattamatasa nodded. "Well, you can go. You have a physical to get to, and I have a report to write. Remember what I said - and come back to see me if you need someone to talk to. It's what I'm here for."

Cende stood, bowed slightly, and left.