Heroid

“What do you mean, ‘He’s gone?’ “

The question, when fallen upon nearby mortal ears, sounded more like the rumbling of thunder. If the pedestrians walking along South Trade Street in Atlas Park were to look up, and if they had exceptional eyesight augmented by either magical or technological means, they might notice two cloudlike fogs – or perhaps more accurately, two foglike clouds – hovering a couple hundred feet above.

Another rumble of thunder, this one lighter, more feminine, answered the first, “I mean, he is gone, my bloody beloved.”

“But… where? And have we the strength remaining to pursue them?”

“Although we have few outright worshippers here, we can gain some meager strength from those whose actions reflect our natures.”

“That will have to do then. Now – where…?”

“Let us focus on our prey and discern that together, shall we?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“The Rogue Isles…?”

“No. That would be too obvious. Perhaps even cliché. Continue discerning.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I have it. He has been taken to… Myrtle Beach?”

“Then let us away to the beach of myrtles!”

“Which girl shall we take? The Stephanie, or the Betsy?”

“Somehow, I think we shall find one available when we arrive at our destination.”

((Canine is teenager in the care of Maggie's Rock, a home and school for Paragon City's youth in need. He comes from Etoile, and learned martial arts in a bloodsport style program called the Dog Pit which pitted children as young as three years of age against each other in first-blood -- and sometimes to the death -- competitions. Since coming to America, Canine wonders if his skills are diminishing. He has looked into entering a sanctioned blood-sport league, and that is where his situation stands as this story begins.))


"You wished to see me, sir?”

The question was rhetorical. Canine knew Nick Kinsolving had sent for him, and he was pretty certain as to why. He just couldn’t figure out why the meeting was happening in the advanced adult training center. The headmaster was wearing white sweat pants and no shirt or shoes, with a sword slung across his back. His stomach was hard, cut from marble, with evidence of years of battles.

“Come in, Lee,” Mr. Kinsolving addressed him by his given name. “I hope you don’t mind if I work out while we talk.”

Canine shook his head in acquiescence. “No, not at all.”

Mr. Kinsolving smiled then curtly turned, drew a large katana from the scabbard on his back and began a slow, precise series of movements, a dance with the long, deadly blade as his partner.

“We took you in conditionally, Lee.”

Lee listened and watched the sword weave invisible drawings in the air.

“We understood your condition – multiple personality disorder – and accordingly placed you under psychiatric care.”

The blade glinted in a sunbeam that shone through the window and kissed it.

“Other than that, we have treated you like any other minor in our care.”

Mr. Kinsolving, stood on one foot, crouched low and swept the blade in a wide leisurely arc, then returned upright, still on one leg, and painted a clockwise circle in front of him.

“You cannot leave and enter the International Blood Sport League in order to hone your skills. I forbid it. Maggie forbids it.”

With impossible control, Mr. Kinsolving leaned backward, bending his knees and lowering his body limbo-style with the katana pointed down the length of his body, parallel to the floor. He slowly brought it up to the perpendicular, then extended his arms, the sword-tip rising and Mr. Kinsolving following it as if the sword was pulling him up behind it.

“How did --?” Canine began.

“We have increased security in light of recent events. Sorry to say this, but some of our more… troubled students… will find themselves under slightly tighter observation.”

Mr. Kinsolving continued his dance, bowing low and beginning a series of high windmill leaps with that same measured movement that made him appear to be going in slow-motion.

“I’ve killed men in their sleep, Lee. I’ve killed men face-to-face who should have killed me. I’ve killed men individually. I’ve killed swarms of men…”

The windmill leaps continued, gaining speed and momentum as they carried Mr. Kinsolving around the room, his voice rising and falling as he moved, but every word perfectly clear.

“I’m not happy about it. But such was my past. I will probably kill again. Such is my life.”

Before Canine knew what was happening, the leaps ended and Mr. Kinsolving was standing directly in front of him, the tip of the katana against Canine’s neck at the endpoint of a potentially lethal strike. He felt a warm trickle run down his neck.

“Lee Vachs – Canine. I’ll be assisting you in your training. If you want blood, you'll have it.”

Priorities. We all have them and how we define them can set the course for our entire lives. Wouldn’t it be nice if fate would lay them out for you in proper order?

You see, I had thought my overriding priority was to find out about Mick Heller (my former self), and his father, (Paul Phillip Heller, a Rogue Isles businessman, aka gangster), and why this father is supposed to be a god and why other gods are out to get me.

However, today, all of my priorities were rearranged. Jessie (my girlfriend, the love of my life, the prettiest hero’s hero in the entire world) returned to town, and she’s… well… she’s not in good shape. You see – and I have yet to get the whole story – sometime while saving the world from some godlike being (unrelated to my own of course) or perhaps shortly thereafter, Jessie (my love) had a heart attack, which resulted in her requiring an emergency heart transplant..

Like I said, I didn’t get all the details, but seeing to her well-being is the most important thing to me right now. Anything else (such as something she said when I first spoke to her in the med ward) will wait until she’s better. Any personal quest I have will be placed on the back burner for the time being.

If any of the supposed deific entities which are allegedly pursuing me should attempt to get at me through her the way they have through Betsy and Steph, there will be hell to pay. And I can back that up – I’m a godling.

So, here am I, at Royal’s Books, looking for a copy of House of Leaves which I have heard was a very good book, a modern classic; a bit of magic-realism, mixed with meta-fiction; a novel which challenged the reader’s intellect, even as it tugged at their emotions. In other words, something for Jessie to read while she convalesced.

Ah. There it is. Strange. The front cover doesn’t quite hide the first page, as if the cover was cut too short, or the insides too big. Wonder what it looks like inside? Wow. There are pages with only one word… and pages printed upside down… and… and odd footnotes on some pages… and… paragraphs that change direction…

I’m getting dizzy looking at it.

And there – right there! Printed on this page – “Don’t turn around, Mick.”

Of course, I turn around.

My last thought as I crumple to the floor? I hope I don’t ding the cover…

Days ago…

Angry wasn’t the word.

The postcard – “Wish you were here,” above a photo of Carli and Fid holding hands on a white beach – burned her fingers as she held it, and would continue to burn in her memory. When she closed her eyes, she could still see them, smiling at her – taunting her in their newfound… what?

She would not bring herself to call it love. She had a name for it, and once she had them in front of her, she would call them that name just before she put a bullet in their skulls.

Angelina Marcone dropped the postcard’s ashes into the bathroom sink and stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t a bad looking woman, even well into her thirties. Her hair was still chestnut brown without a single strand of grey. She had the same figure she’d had since high school, where she was homecoming queen. She could still fit into her Night Widow costume. Her green eyes weren’t highlighted by wrinkles and bags. Her face didn’t sag. Nothing on her sagged.

So, why did he do that? Why did he…?

Someone had done something to him. That was the only reason she could think of. Someone, and that someone must have been Heller.

She had never trusted Paulie. He was too smart. Too sharp-witted. Given, his wife was the dullest woman on the face of the earth, but Paulie was too talented to be a cronie. He could have run his own organization. She always got the impression that he was trying not to gain too much notoriety. That he was trying hard not to draw someone’s attention to himself. But whose? The Family knew him, knew his skills, picked his brain for knowledge and ideas. They knew Paulie’s talents. So did she.

But then he had popped a couple of Arachnos guys and took off with $10 million in Marcone money.

She’d find Heller. She’d find his kid. She’d find his wife too, but Paulie didn’t really care that much about her. Angelina knew that first-hand. She knew all of Paulie’s talents.

Angelina spent the next hour making phone calls and checking web searches. Soon enough, she had a direction.

By late afternoon, Angelina Marcone was on board a flight bound for Paragon City.

Stephanie…

Outside the Shake-It-Baby in Overbrook, Stephanie Martin, the teen pop diva, still in the prime moments of her fifteen minutes of fame, sipped her smoothie and turned to see who had called her. Probably a pap waiting to blind her with a flash of his camera. It was a nuisance to be sure, especially as she was focusing her energies more on being a Paragon City crime-fighter than on staying in the public consciousness. Honestly, sometimes she felt as though she could walk away from the music business altogether, but really, would that be fair to her fans?

Stephanie…

All right. Whoever it was, was not going away. Stephanie sat her smoothie on the table and turned to face…

No one. No one was there. Oh well. It could have been her imagination, she supposed.

She returned to her drink and to the reverie she had been distracted from.

Guys. She wished she knew an uncomplicated one. Fletcher was fun, hot, and well… fun and hot. But he was sort of taken. Lee-slash-Canine was hot and intense, sweet and macho, crazy and insane. Should she pursue the sort-of-maybe-taken Fletcher? Or should she go after the sort-of-no-make-that-definitely-insane Lee-slash-Canine? Or both? Or neither? She sighed and smiled. She knew both of them liked her, and that in itself made her happy.

Guys made her feel so—

Warm bodies entangled, sweating, working up heat until they spontaneously combust. Falling, panting, struggling as they fight to breath the same air that their passion had exhausted of oxygen.

“Oh, Clint… oh… wow…”

“I love you, Jessie. I’ll love you forever.”

Warm bodies, consumed by passion, shaking and depleted, but warming up again, building to another fire…

Stephanie felt the hot flush rise within her, exciting her in ways she shouldn’t be excited. It was a reminder that sometimes, in doing the right – the heroic – thing, you can come away with scars.

In this case, it was from the day a few weeks ago when Smith had lost his memory. Desperate to help him, she used her own psi powers to record his mind inside her own. She had never attempted such a thing before, and was surprised it had worked so well. Just like copying files from her desktop to her netbook. At least it had seemed that way, but there was one huge difference between human minds and computer hard drives – it was hard to selectively erase memories from a human mind.

Smith’s memories were still in her head.

The memory of the touch of Jessie’s lips was gross to her, but the way Smith responded; the way his heart sped up and his skin tingled; the shiver that ran through him; that was… not gross.

Suddenly, it occurred to Stephanie that she knew how to excite him. She knew how he responded to every tickle, to every caress. She mulled this over, lost in the delightful possibilities, until she found herself to be no longer in Overbrook, but instead, standing outside the door of Smith’s dorm room. Her imagination was racing ahead of her, and she knew she was blushing head to toe, but once she had gone in to him – to him – her imaginings would become real as their passions –

“Stephanie?”

This time the voice was real and she knew exactly who it was. Some people called him Jake. Other people called him Flea. Stephanie called him father.

“Um… yes, Daddy?”

“That is that Smith’s room, correct?”

“Um… I think so… yeah.”

“Perhaps you should come with me. I have some data to crunch regarding the School’s new security, and your fingers are much more adept at keyboarding than mine are.”

Stephanie looked at the door. What had she been thinking? Was she insane? Smith wasn’t even that hot.

She went with her father and tried to put the gross, yucky memories she shared with Smith back into that dark, unused corner of her mind where she usually kept them.

At that moment, somewhere not far away, two ethereal beings, the god of bloodlust and the goddess of desire, strain their omniscience to see if the girl had performed as planned.

“Yes! She is going in! She’s… she’s… she’s… walking away with a giant insect?”

“Yes. Tricky place that school. I have tried to crack it to repossess my prize, Blitz, but somehow the house can resist the will of Ares!”

“But… I do not understand. The girl was ready. I did not even have to weave a thread of desire between them. They had already done that themselves.”

“And this is the first time that Aphrodite has failed to bring a chosen couple to mutual heat?”

“Yes. I do believe it is.”

“The humans here have a saying, my love. It goes, ‘It’s not as easy as it looks.’ “

((Need a post to pretty much bring this story in line with other rp that's going on on the boards, so here it is. Should get back to the regular story after this. ))

Things have been crazy.

Jessie’s dad went insane or something and kidnapped his and Ms. Love’s baby daughter. The school was in a state of panic. All of the faculty and the older kids with powers were put on alert and the place was locked down tighter than any fort or prison you could imagine.

There was some sort of reality rift (I do not understand metaphysics very well, so don’t ask me to explain), and soon after that Jessie’s sister returned Ms. Love her baby and they took off for Ireland while Mr. Kinsolving started barking orders to get the place operational again.

Now there are all sorts of techie, paranormal, and magical types working to make sure that the school is secure, even in the event of the “end of the universe.” (Mr. Kirby’s words, not mine.)

Which brings me back to my own little problems.

Betsy and I are now in the same boat. With so many people busy shoring up defenses and safeguarding perimeters, no one has time to assist us in investigating our little problem. Mr. Kinsolving simply tells us that we are safe so long as we are inside the Rock, which may be true. But I’ve been inside the school for most of a month serving a punishment I feel I did not deserve, and I would really enjoy a taste of freedom. Betsy, however, feels differently. I guess because he is her father she heeds his advice and opts to remain inside. At least she’s moved to a regular dorm room instead of the secure room.

But me? I’m going first to the Midnight Society to find out about this Ares fellow and this sun god Cassi tells me is my father.

What’s that? I haven’t told you that part? I thought I had.

Cassi and Betsy come from a parallel universe: Cassi Nova, the powerful warrior, daughter of Zeus, a child of the Amazons; and Betsy, the most powerful humanoid in the galaxy – the superhero, Blitz!

Yes, Betsy was strong enough to move planets out of orbit, and nothing short of a supernova could injure her. She could survive in the cold vacuum of space, and in the super-hot core of the sun. She could fly so fast that she warped space and time. She has seen other peoples on other worlds. She once created an electrical charge that powered-up a world-sized battery. Unbelievable, yes, but it was a different universe where things were, well… different.

Here, she has the barest fraction of her abilities. She’s mortal, vulnerable. Relatively weak.

Cassi feels for her on so many levels. It’s why she’s so infinitely patient with her. Why she takes care of her in many ways – watches out for her. Even though they are no longer in love, Cassi still loves her. It’s complicated.

The main thing is that Betsy has to avoid being possessed by Ares again. It’s not the first time a being of immense power has taken her over (perhaps she did have a weakness after all), and I’m certain she’s afraid of it happening again.

So it’s all up to me to solve this problem.

I just wish Jessie was here.

What’s that? She is?

What? She’s in intensive care? Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?

Cayman Islands, three weeks ago…

“He ain’t gonna talk, boss.”

Carli Marcone frowned at his button man’s words. He hadn’t expected Heller to talk. That’s just the way Paul Heller was. But Carli had hoped he would talk. Carli had hoped he would come clean and cooperate so that maybe things wouldn’t have to go the way they were going to have to go. He liked Heller. Heller had made him a lot of money. A lot of money. But then Heller had run off with a good chunk of it.

The Family couldn’t just let that go.

“Ten mil, Paulie. Tell me where it is and maybe we can talk a deal where you don’t die.”

Heller lifted his bloody face and said to Carli, “You should just let this go, Carli.”

Let it go? Let it go? Just for suggesting it, Carli spun around and put a boot heel in his former associate’s face.

“You think I’m playin’ here? You think just ‘cause you got brains for business I won’t see them splattered all over the wall? And when I’m done with you, I’m going to find you kid.”

“Carli, please, for your own sake, don’t do this.”

Heller was begging? This wasn’t like him at all.

“You won’t give me back my money, but you’ll beg for your life?” Carli nodded to his button man. “I at least expected you to face this like a man, Paulie.”

Carli walked out the door and shook his head when he heard the sound of the pistol. He never had regrets about what he did, but some decisions weighed on him more than others. Paulie had been an asset to him. If he had just stayed in line…

Then Carli heard a sound he had never heard before. He heard his button man scream.



Paul Heller carefully laid Carli and Fid, the button man, on the hotel bed. He put them in the most compromising position possible, and made sure they were smiling. They wouldn’t remember why they were here, but upon awakening they would discover a secret they had both shared, but that their chosen profession forbids them to ever reveal.

Paul Heller smiled at his handiwork. It had been a long time since he had used his powers, and it felt good. The problem was, now the others would know where to find him.

He had to warn his son.

Mick Heller. Student at Cap Au Diable High School – a private academy in Etoile. Member of the school’s soccer and swim teams.

That’s as far as I got before I lost Internet access.

But right now there are bigger things happening than my personal crisis.

I don’t know what’s going on outside my room, but there seems to be some sort of panic going on in the school – some sort of attack. Maggie’s Rock is pretty impregnable, so I cannot imagine what has happened. Could it be my unknown enemy?

I’ve been confined to my room for weeks. No internet. No comm use. I left once with the intention of sneaking back in, but that turned into a fiasco when I forgot to medicate myself. After that it was next to impossible to accomplish anything. Cassi snuck a Blackberry in to me, but someone decided to monitor internet wireless signals and found me out. I didn’t tell where I got it.

But something’s going on. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit in my room while my friends may be in danger. Whatever it is, I’ll face it with them.

Betsy’s head was spinning. She felt worse than she could ever remember feeling. Once, what seemed a long time ago, she seldom felt pain. Oh, the fight with Hiroto Sun had left her with some bruises. And the time Magmari had shot her with that neutronium pellet…

But that was nothing like now. The combination of hangover and having a god-spirit ripped out of your body – this was new pain.

At first, nothing had made sense. The things Cassi had told her… things revealed to Cassi by an entity which had possessed Betsy; that Cassi and Smith were both part of some sort of a deal with the Olympian gods where they were supposed to marry of and produce a new race, except that Cassi was off the hook for that now; crazy stuff that if anyone but Cassi had told her, she would never believe it. But Cassi never lied about anything.

The entity in question – which Cassi said was the Olympian, Aries – had to abandon her when she had entered the Rock. The school’s wards and magical barriers, and the strange consciousness of the house itself had kept the evil god from entering with her.

Now, to keep herself away from both Aries and Smith, she had locked herself inside the Rock’s secure room. She had been there for five days.

“How are you, sweetheart?” Rose Kinsolving asked her daughter this same question every morning right before she turned off the room’s security so she could come in with breakfast.

“I’m good. I’m really sorry about this,” Betsy said, blinking the sleep from her eyes and smiling both her gratitude and guilt. “You really don’t have to wait on me, you know.”

“Nonsense. It’s no trouble. You have to eat.”

Betsy looked at the tray with the eight-inch tall stack of plate-sized pancakes, dozen link sausages, and half-gallon of orange juice and nodded. No one else but her mom would have made sure she had enough to feed her unusual metabolism.

Rose sat the tray on the secure room’s small desk and handed Betsy her robe. Betsy slipped it on and plopped down in the chair to eat. Her mother pulled up a chair beside her.

“Well, thanks, mom. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Cassi.”

Betsy heard Rose’s lips make that little popping sound they make when she has something she’s hesitant to say. She looked up from her meal.

“About that,” Rose said, “Don’t you think you need to… how should I say this… treat Cassi a little better? She’s the best friend you’ve got and well… I’m your mother, so I’ll put up with a lot. She doesn’t have to. I’m afraid you’re burning bridges with her and that’s something you’ll regret the rest of your life. And this thing with this Smith boy… that’s got to stop too.”

Betsy nodded and dug back into her food. She blamed Smith for coming between her and Cassi, but really, it was her own fault. She was flawed. She didn’t interact with people well. She was constantly either trying to please and impress, or just outright saying the wrong things and coming off as rude. She had made herself a social pariah, and Cassi didn’t deserve to suffer from by association with her.

“I’ll do better, mom.” She had made this promise before.

Rose kissed her cheek and then stood to leave. “Can I get you anything else before I go?”

“Thanks, Mom. I’m good. Honest.”

“Don’t let it get you down, honey, we’re working to find out what this ‘Aries’ wants from you. And we’ll find a way to make him leave you alone.”

Betsy smiled and nodded. Rose kissed her again and then left, looking back as if to make sure her daughter’s smile did not fade as soon as her back was turned.

Betsy was sure that between Cassi, her parents, and the school that they would find a way to help her. But as far as what Aries wanted, Betsy and Cassi already knew. Cassi had told her that Aries claimed his possession of her was quite by accident, but that it would serve his purposes well.

The God of War wanted a new race of worshippers; a race born of a meta-mortal and a half-god. Betsy and Smith. Aries was going to do some sort of magical cloning using Smith’s blood and her… whatever. She didn’t understand cloning, and magical cloning was even murkier to her. But Aries – or Aries working through her -- was supposed to kill Smith to get his blood.

Just the thought of it almost made her lose her appetite.

Almost.

Incident Report #090026
Maggie’s Rock Security Officer Roy Kirby

On the night of 09:03:23 the missing student, Smith (no first name) was returned to school by student Stephanie Martin. According to Ms. Martin, she encounted Smith in Overbrook early in the evening. Smith was confused and disorinated. He was rambling about needing to get to the Creycare clinic in Indipendance Port to get his subscription refilled. She followed him to I.P. but when he could not locate the clinic, she brought him home to Maggie’s Rock and put him in the secure room.

Student Advisors, Jericho Stone and Amelia Stone followed procedure as J. Stone continued observation while A. Stone located the Creycare clinic and obtained Smith’s medication. As the subscription appeared to be legit, A. Stone administered the medication as pre label directions under the screwtny of J. Stone. Smith immediately seemed to regain composture and returned to his room where he had previously been restricted to.

J. Stone, S. Martin, and other witnesses reported that prior to receiving his medication, Smith was repeating, “Excuse me, could you direct me to the local Creycare Clinic?” or vairations thereof for during the time he was in the secure room. According to the witnesses, Smith also something like, "Task pound pound pound dollar dollar dollar pound completed. Awaiting recode." J. Stone postumated that maybe Smith might have undergone some form of brain washing.

*Note to Nick: this kid has amnesia and is under a shrink’s care. Might want to talk to the shrink and let her know what he’s done.

Smith appears to be slightly paranoid and will not come out of his room unless forced to. Prior to this incident, he has been a model student and his friends describe him as a “nice guy”.

*Note to self: find out why Nick had this kid grounded for four weeks and what that had to do with Jessie.

I will be following up on this report as the sitiation dictates

After I left Cassi in Founders, I went straight home to Maggie’s Rock as I had promised her I would. I had on my strealth uniform, with stealth mode activated so that, hopefully, I could sneak back in without detection. (As if Mr. Kinsolving hadn’t already been aware of my breach of discipline.)

That’s when I saw Betsy – aka Blitz – outside speaking to one of the “normals”.

“Can you tell me if he’s inside?” she asked the girl.

I wondered who she was talking about, and also why she just didn’t go inside and find out for herself. After all, she is a student there, and her father is headmaster. I thought her behavior to be very suspicious, and so held back, out of sight for a bit.

She asked again, and this time I heard my name mentioned. But why was Betsy searching for me? I know she doesn’t like me, that she blames me for the split between her and Cassi, but I could think of no reason why she would acting this way. When she became belligerent with the girl, I decided that perhaps it might be a good idea not to go home.

I ran away as quickly as I could. Discretion being the better part of valor and all that. Too bad I dropped and busted my Blackberry as I was leaving. I had plans for that device.

And now I have spent the past day and a half hiding in the city, staying on the move. I eye everyone with suspicion. I know it sounds paranoid, but I literally cannot trust anyone. If whoever is searching for me recruited Betsy, then who knows who else from the school might be in on it? Is Mr. Kinsolving? Is that why he wanted me confined to my room? Was he waiting for this unknown enemy to come to collect me?

I wish Jessie was here.

Can’t dwell on that. She’s with her family. She’s all right. We’ll find our way. We’ll be together. But first things first. She deserves to know who it is she is in love with – who I am, who I was. I’ve got to find out who this Mick Heller was… is?

So much. Too much. I can barely think, it’s all so confusing. But I must keep my wits about me. Anyone could be an enemy. Anyone. But that’s crazy talk. Paranoia. I’m losing focus, as if...

Argh! No wonder! I forgot my meds! I forgot to take my meds! But it’s not too late – I still remember my name… where I live… The conversion of kilograms to pounds is 2.2046... A quick dose is all I need. Some days I tire of the injections, but I am thankful for –

My bottle! It’s empty!

When did I take my last injection? Gyah! I’ve been so preoccupied!

I’ve got to get to the Creycare clinic in IP to refill it or… well, the me that I am could vanish forever.

But… what if my enemy knows about my meds? What if they are waiting for me, planning an ambush. I need to think on this. Plan things out. Even though my need is urgent, I must still proceed with caution. Haste makes… something…

It isn’t a long trip to IP from Overbrook. I just need to remember how to get there...

Betsy Kinsolving woke up propped in a sitting position on the floor in a corner of the extradimensional superhero social club, Pocket D. Her breath smelled sour and her costume was sticking to her in ways that the Kevlite fabric was not supposed to. Her head hurt severely.

“Blitz?”

It was Isaac, a bartender. He always called her by her “hero” name.

“Oh, Isaac, what did I do?”

“Do?” he knelt beside her and replied with a smile. “You took on five guys on a pool table.”

“Oh god no… “

“No, no! Not – no. You took ‘em on in a fight, little lady.”

Betsy looked up and blinked away the fog in her eyes.

“Yeeeah. You came in here yelling something about being the ‘god of war’ and saying you could beat any four men in the joint. A couple of Arachnos and a handful of drunk Freakshow decided to take you up on it.”

“But Zero’s rule…”

“Heh. Place was about empty anyway, so he set up that pool table like the monkey cage. No powers. No weapons. King of the hill style contest. Nobody could knock you off it. Helluva good entertainment.”

Betsy smiled in satisfaction that she was unbeaten.

“Hope that’s all I did…”

“Well… After the fight those guys kept buying you rounds.” Isaac paused and asked, “You did say you were old enough to drink, right?”

“Oh… oh, yeah, no problem.”

If Isaac suspected she lied, he didn’t show it.

“You were good and drunk and saying some pretty harsh things about finding some ‘wenches to slake your lust on’? Those Freaks were all for that. So Z decided that instead of letting you leave and get yourself in trouble with those guys, we’d keep you here to sleep it off where we could watch you.”

Betsy could smell her own sweat and could feel her hair caked in oily strands on her neck.

“Thanks,” she said. And she meant it.

“Well, listen, hon, I don’t mind serving anyone a drink, but you and alcohol don’t get along that well. If you had done that in another establishment – say the Wharf Rat over in Indy Port, ain’t no telling what might have happened.”

The thought of her last binge – it was at a bar in New York City – made a hot pink flush rise from her neck to the crown of her head. That episode had caused her no end of trouble which her father had had to deal with – was still dealing with. Pictures still popped up on the internet, but when pressed she always denied that it was her. She had sworn then that she would never touch another drink.

So what had caused her to come here last night? What had caused her to become so aggressive?

“Thanks, Isaac… I’ll watch it from now on – I promise.”

“That’s better, Blitz. You’ve got the makings of a great hero, girl. You just need to get your head on straight – find your direction.”

Betsy nodded and smiled. “I’d better be going,” she said.

“Can I get you something to eat first? You need something in that little flat belly of yours or you’re going to be sick all over again.”

“Nah… that’s too much trouble…”

“No trouble at all, hon. We got a grill in the back we make sandwiches on. And actually, I brought some steaks in when I came to work. I could make you one…”

“A steak would be nice…”

“Cool.”

Isaac stood and offered a hand to help her up. She took it and wavered in place for a moment before she tried to walk. Her head began to pound mercilessly.

“How you like your steak, Ms.?” Isaac asked as he walked away.

“Well-done,” Betsy replied, but then her mind changed. “Wait!” she said, “Make that rare…”

“Rare?”

“Yeah, rare.”

“Rare’s not good on a sour stomach…”

“I don’t care. Rare.”

“Um… okay. Um… how rare? Well-rare, maybe?”

“No. Rare.”

“You serious?”

Betsy smiled and as she did so, she thought she could sense a repulsion or… fear?... in Isaac’s eyes.

“Well, hon,” she said with a toothy grin, “I’m want it so seriously rare, that I wish the cow was right here so I could eat it alive.”

I am not Smith. It turns out that is only an alias.

It was bad enough that I got in trouble for my and Jessie’s Florida getaway. Mr. Kinsolving handed me a four-week sentence. He confined me – with only a few exceptions -- to my room. No comm use. No internet. Worst of all, no Jessie. She went to visit her sister in Colorado. But even if she was here, I am forbidden to so much as speak to her.

On a couple of occasions I have violated my confinement by using my comm. Both times, Cassi was quick to remind me that I would be in trouble if I was caught, so both times I kept my side of the conversation very short and merely listened. Sometimes you need to hear another voice, you know.

It’s not that Cassi was trying to be mean – she’s the most un-mean person I know – she’s just trying to keep me from getting in worse trouble. I trust Cassi more than anyone else I know (besides Jessie… ah… Jessie…).

So when I found myself in even worse trouble – trouble of an unknown kind from an unknown source – I had to break the rules again.

So far, my condition (I’m an amnesiac, you see) has not been a problem for me at all. So long as I take my medication, I can retain my short-term memories and hold onto new ones and so maintain the identity I have built for myself.

And except for the somewhat morally questionable (in some people’s opinion) and possibly illegal incident with Jessie (which I in no way regret and will hopefully have a chance to repeat at the first opportunity we have) I have built a solid reputation for myself as a decent human being. Around the school, I am known as a “nice boy”, a distinction I am proud of. Jessie would not love me if I wasn’t a nice fellow, now would she?

But now I don’t know what to think about myself. My past, which I had assumed was erased along with my memory, is following me like an amorphous shadow, and I fear for the day when it finally takes shape and form to devour the life I have now.

A few days ago, I was using my Blackberry to check my Myface page (yes, another violation, I know), when I found a strange message, a warning. The user’s profile said that the message originated in the Cayman Islands. I don’t know anyone in the Caymen Islands.

With Jessie out of town, there was only one person I could trust. So it was that I ensured my expulsion from school and went out to seek Cassi Nova. I found her in Founders Falls, not far from the Kinsolving home where she lives.

“You do know they know when you leave, right?”

As always she was looking out for me, trying to keep me on the straight and narrow.

“The house let me out. The house wouldn't have let me out if it wasn't the right thing, would it?” It was a slim defense and I really only said it to try to justify my actions to her.

“Who says the house always follows Mr. K's rulings?”

And of course, she was right…

“I mean no disrespect to him,” I said, “but this is important.”

“Then you should have told him.”

There was an awkward silence between us for a moment.

“Cassi, I know I'm breaking about every rule here but I was on Myface trying to leave Jessie a message and, well...”

I showed her the message on my Blackberry.

Run away, son. They’re on to us.

“I don't know what that means.”

“Where was it sent from?”

I told her and then added, “I don’t know anyone in the Cayman Islands.”

“You don't know anyone anyway, remember?”

“Damn this amnesia. I don't know who sent it, who ‘they’ refers to... or to where I should run.”

I could see the inner dialogue spoken in her expression. She paused a moment, then sighed and said, “Maybe it has to do with who you ar -- were.”

I looked at her. Once, we went together to Ouroboros, and travelled back to a time before I lost my memory. She met the old me there and…

"I met him, remember?"

“Cassi... what are you keeping from me?”

“Me?! You asked me not to tell you!”

She was angry with me, and rightly so. I had told her I did not wish to know about him – me.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought ignorance would be bliss. I thought I had… everything.”

Her anger subsided but her demeanor showed the burden I had placed upon her when I asked her to keep that to herself. It was time to man up.

“I can't hide from the truth any longer,” I said, “and it's not fair of me to make you the custodian of my secrets. I’ve wronged you and I hope you forgive me.”

She looked away, and what she was thinking, what she was going through, I had no idea. I had to free her of this weight.

“Tell me.”

She rubbed her arms in a self-caress that made me want to hug her. I did not.

She said, “Your name was Mick. Mick Heller. You were from Etoile.”

The fog bank sailed on the waters off Talos like an ephemeral ship. It approached from the north, drawing near a rocky outcrop that in days of yore had taken many an errant ship to it’s doom. The bane of pirates and ancient mariners did not slow the mist as it rolled toward the island.

On a perch on the cliff side overlooking the outcrop, a lone Warrior stirred. He looked at the approaching fog as if he saw something in it, something no one but he could see. He listened as if a voice called to him, a voice no one but he could hear. He climbed down to the rocky shore.

The fog rolled and gathered itself into a roiling cloud, crackling with power. It settled around the Warrior as if he was its destination, as if it had sought him out.

Alexander, the voice said, Do you know me?

The Warrior chief, Alexander knelt to one knee and bowed his head. “Yes, my liege,” he said.

Will you be my huntsman?

Alexander did not so much as lift his head as he replied, “Yes, Lord Ares.”

Will you seek out the child of my rival and bring him to utter destruction?

“Yes, Great One.”

Then I shall imbue you with my essence to empower you in this task.

The cloud began to swirl like a whirlwind and lightning danced around Alexander. He felt the power of a god inside him. More, he felt the mind of a god begin to meld with his own.

“Hey! You!”

The voice was shrill and angry and female. Alexander heard it as if it was coming from far away.

“You! I’m talking to you!”

No time for silly little girls in capes, Alexander was becoming one with his lord.

“You better quit hitting on my mom! She’s not interested in you! She’s married for goshsakes!”

The storm swirled around him and he drank in its heady ale. The girl and her screeching were not important.

“Nice trick,” the shrill-voiced girl said, “Did you steal it from some Tsoo sorcerer. Too bad I’ve got lightning of my own!”

Suddenly Alexander did not understand what was happening. Why was he standing here with the waves lapping his feet? What was that smell? Ozone?

The lightning of the angry girl met the storm bolts of the angry god. The electricity and the eldritch energy exploded like a giant roman candle, singing Alexander’s hair, scorching his leather vest, blinding him with a white heat.

When at last his vision returned, he was alone. Had he imagined it? Was the god of war calling to him only in his dreams? He certainly felt no different than he had only moments before. And why had that girl attacked him? Where did she go?

Alexander shook off the experience. Mysteries always had a way of working themselves out. He was no deep-thinking mage -- he was a man of action.

He climbed back up to his perch. He had plans to make for tomorrow – perhaps a hostage situation? Those seemed the best bet to bring out the tall, leggy Rose McAden.

He sighed and fantasized about the way she handled her bow.

((Bump. More stories coming.))

So, the machine blew up, but right before that, its transmitter went out and since we were all panicky and our vitals were going crazy – not to mention that we were nearly freezing to death inside CryoJen’s ice walls – our mediport patches kicked in, ironically, mine last of all, and nearly too late.

I left some hair, blood, and most of my clothing behind on that machine. I was in the Rock infirmary for a week getting treated by both super-science and magic – otherwise it might have taken months for me to heal.

I’m just really sorry that Nita Jones had to die. She had so much more living to do.

It’s hard getting used to going by a different name. Ms. Love renamed me Moira Fiona Flynn – a good Irish name. Which is good, I guess, because that’s where I live now. Maggie Love is coaching me on my speech and other little things so that I’ll fit in. And the Rock: Ireland Campus is not so bad. But it’s no Paragon City.

I feel a little bad because, while I’m getting petted and pampered here, I’ve heard that Mr. Kinsolving gave Smith a good talking to about keeping secrets from the adults and going off on missions without guidance from more experienced people. But I also hear he was a bit proud of all of them for carrying out my rescue the way they did.

Still, I started this whole mess, trying to play superhero. It should have been me catching the heat instead.

Smith was right. My powers kicked in like he figured, and I’m pretty sure it was my powers that caused my injuries this time around. See, when the machine was about to go, I was hoping I’d just die because this crazy man would just keep coming after me otherwise. So when it was over, there was enough left of me on that machine to make it look like I’d been blown to bits there. And thanks to my very public funeral (there was even a blurb on Supertainment Tonight about it!), I’m pretty sure that’s what Verkovian thinks -- if he survived the explosion. He’ll have to find someone else to run his evil contraption.

Smith says my power affects probabilities in order to protect me. Turns out I really don’t have a talent for dying. But it wasn’t just my powers that came through for me – it was my friends.

Le Sigh. It just occurred to me that “Smith & Flynn” has no kind of ring to it whatsoever.

As far from pity as complaint,
As cool to speech as stone,
As numb to revelation
As if my trade were bone.
As far from time as history,
As near yourself to-day
As children to the rainbow's scarf,
Or sunset's yellow play
To eyelids in the sepulchre.
How still the dancer lies,
While color's revelations break,
And blaze the butterflies!

I finish my reading and take my seat. Most of the other seats are taken up by the “normals” -- the kids of the school that have no special powers. Nita’s friends.

Ms. Love who spends her time divided between Paragon City and Ireland is in attendance. Mr. and Mrs. Kinsolving are here. Some of the super-powered students are also here, but they stand in the back in deference to the normals. Of course all of Nita’s teachers are here. Jessie, Jen, and Ben stand in the back with the other powered kids.

All of us are here in Gemini Park to pay our respects to our friend.

Nita is represented here only by the ashes in the urn.

Ms. Love stands to speak:

“M’ friends an’ children, we’re so mournfully gathered here t’gether t’ eulogize our sweet friend, student, an’ daughter, Anita Adele Jones…”

When she’s done, she’s supposed to scatter the ashes into the river. I can’t really focus on her words. The past few days have been a blur and this is the first time I’ve had to sit down and think about it all.

Once through the outer door, we found the inner door unlocked. We burst through it ready for a fight – no holding back, no worries about setting off alarms. We were fighting for our friend’s life.

The room was huge, with walls of controls and electrical equipment and wires and other mad scientist type equipment. The center of the room was dominated by Dr. Verkovian’s big machine. It was massive with hoses and lights and big blocks of steel and glass tubes and electrodes. In the center, restrained by big metal balls that held her hands and feet and, a big metal belt around her waist was Nita. She didn’t look good. A Council goon stood on a platform beside her with a knife to her throat. I shot him with down with a TK dart.

Jessie ran to see about her but was cut off by a Warwolf. If Verkovian had many of those, we were in real trouble.

“Ben!” (He was closest.) “Help Jessie get to Nita!”

I knew we not only had to rescue Nita, but we had to capture Verkovian and destroy his machine or he would come after her again. The plan was to put a mediport patch on Nita, then she and Jessie could teleport home, leaving the rest of us to do the cleanup. Jessie had to go with Nita. If Verkovian found out that Jessie was the one with the real healing powers, he would go after her instead.

Ben cast some sort of spell that caused the Warwolf to lose his equilibrium. The creature staggered and fell as it tried to fight. Jessie dodged around it and got to Nita.

Jen and I turned our attention to the control panels around the room. Jen froze them, causing them to short circuit. I used my TK powers to throw Verkovian’s guards into the equipment, taking out soldiers and components at once. Ben put a mystical “tag” on Verkovian that would keep him from escaping us while we dismantled his equipment.


“Clint!” Jessie called, “I’m here! She’s hurting but otherwise she’s all right!”

“Good – then both of you, port out now!”

Jessie worked with Nita a moment and, as I fought and worked to destroy the room, I glanced up to see her attach the patch to Nita. With Jessie’s next words, my heart sank.’

“Oh no! The mediport patches – they don’t work here!”

“Of course not, fools!” (Mad scientists always call everyone else fools.) “The signal from my machine is overriding every other broadcast signal in the area! Soon, it will override even the signals in Paragon City! Then the City of Heroes will belong to the Council!”

And, yes, he did go “mwahahaha.”

“Get her out of there! We’ll just get out the way we came in!”

A bestial howl from just outside put the lie to that statement. Warwolves came swarming into the room – lots of them. Suddenly we found ourselves surrounded and outnumbered.

“All of you! Gather ‘round Nita!”

Without question, they did as I said, climbing up to the platform beside her even as the machine’s activity vibrated beneath our feet.

“What does this thing do, anyway?” Jen asked as she put up an ice wall around us.

Nita, exhausted and in excruciating pain still gathered enough wits about her to explain: the machine would analyze its prisoner’s powers and abilities and somehow turn them into a “signal” of some kind which would then broadcast those powers to whoever Verkovian was sending them to. It sounded more like Ben’s line of work than any science I’d ever heard of.

“I-I d-don’t know how l-long I can hold back.” She finished.

I had a sudden inspiration.

“Everyone grab Nita’s arms and let your powers flow through her! And Nita – stop holding back now!”

The vibration around us grew stronger. From beyond Jen’s ice wall I could hear Verkovian shouting orders, but even his ranting was soon drowned out by the machine. We were feeding it all of our powers at once. My hope was that it would be overwhelmed from the workload, and with his controls destroyed, Verkovian wouldn’t be able to compensate.

Jessie shouted, “It’s going to blow!”

Which was true enough, and exactly what I wished to happen.

Ben was worried, “We’ve got to get away now!”

“No!” I said, “Believe me – we’re in the safest part of the room.” Then I told Jen to maintain the ice wall as long as she could.

“All right,” Jen said, “But if you get us killed, I’ll never forgive you!”

The entire room must have been shaking like an earthquake, but we couldn’t see anything that was going on around us.

“We’re going to die!”

I’m not sure who said it -- it might have been me.

Ben said, “Why are we here? Why don’t we leave?”

I said, “Stay in contact with Nita! Her powers will protect her, and also protect us!”

I hoped.

“Stop it! Stop holding back!”

I can barely hear Verkovian over my own screaming. Somehow – I can feel it – I’m choking my powers down, keeping them from activating. But it hurts! It hurts!

“Let it flow, girl! Let your healing energies – your indestructibility – flow! Release it! Release it!”

No! No way! I can stand it… I can!

“She has to be at the limits of pain that any human can bear. It will take more! Guards! Cut her throat!”

Oh god no… I can hold back through the pain, but… but if they try to kill me…

“See if you can hold back when your very life is on the line, child!”

There’s a knife over my throat and the pain—the pain!—

But I can’t… can’t…

((Nice!))

There were guards at the bottom, but they weren’t expecting us. Jen froze them before they could turn around. We ran down the corridor, following the pull of the brush, but we ran into a dead end. That’s when we realized that while a “dowsing rod” works very well out-of-doors, it’s very hard to use inside a labyrinthine building.

Still, the magic hair brush is the best chance we have of finding her, so we’ve spent the last several minutes chasing down hallways and fighting Council troops. So far, we’ve managed to keep the battles quick and quiet. No alarms have sounded. We’ve left our foes frozen, rendered unconscious and tied, and lost in illusion.

Ungh! I’m running as fast as I can, following the pull of the brush and when I pass this one door, it suddenly changes direction. It nearly dislocates my shoulder!

“Here.”

The others put on the brakes and join me. The door is featureless metal with a heavy levered latch.

“No guards,” Ben says.

“Then they’re on the inside,” Jessie adds.

I lay down on the floor and try to see under it.

“Can’t see anything except another door like this one just a few feet away and two pairs of boots.”

“I’ve got this,” Jen says. She has a wicked grin on her face.

The rest of us stand away while Jen works. I can tell what she’s doing, accomplishing two tasks at once, freezing the door until it’s brittle while also making the room cold enough so that the guards are easily overcome. She’s been at this longer than I have, and she’s good at what she does. I can hear the guards inside beating on the frozen door.

Jessie’s also a veteran compared to me, so nothing has to be said when Jen looks to her, she just prepares to electrify the door to take out the guards.

“Hold on a sec,” I say to Jessie, "I have an idea."

She gives me a glance, but understands when I look up at the fluorescent lights overhead. I use my TK powers to levitate and rip the cover off then with my gloved hand, I pull enough wire out to reach to Jessie. If she hits that door with a fully charged blast, it should superheat it enough to shatter. Hopefully, it won’t be enough to kill the guards.

“Stand back!” she says.

She takes her gloves off and hooks them on her belt, and then grabs the live wire like it’s no big deal, even though her hair starts fanning out just a little. Her other hand starts glowing, a bright blue ball just focused in her fist. She doesn’t let go until it’s as big as her head and bright enough it hurts to look at, and she looks at Jen and me with that smile that always means trouble. She winds up and whips the ball at the door.

The door crackles and snaps, then nearly explodes when Jessie blasts it. I look around, none of us are down, but the two guards are either dead or knocked out. We don’t have time to worry about them.

“I hear a sound,” Ben says. He presses his ear to the still-intact inner door. “Like s a thrummm thrummmm… someone shouting, and… I hear Nita screaming!”

Christ this hurts!

Verkovian’s cranking up the dial to eleven and it’s like every nerve in my body is on fire! I can barely think!

Calm. Calm, Nita. You don’t want your powers kicking in. You don’t want this guy to use you to take over the city and kill all the heroes. You don’t want to be the one to cause that. Just tell yourself – I’m in no danger… I’m in no danger.

“I’m in no danger.”

I think I said that out loud.

“Of course you are in no danger. I am merely calibrating at the moment. The real process will start in just a moment.”

I hate the sound of his voice. It’s like sandpaper sliding across a pile of sleeze.

“The actual process begins – now.”

He’s flipping more switches and – God! It hurts! No! No powers! N— Gyaaaagh! S-s-something’s h-happening…

Invading Striga is no minor feat. I’ve been here before mind you, but solo and recon only. Jessie’s been here with incursion teams before, but usually with some heavy hitters like her father, Smersh. Jen – CryoJen is her hero name – is pretty powerful and so is Jessie, but neither of them are what you would call “firepower”. As far as that goes, I guess I’m it.

Ben has taken this surprisingly seriously, which has been helpful. Then again, his girlfriend is with us. She’s a nice girl, shy in a way, and I think she has a lot of personal issues which are none of my business, but I can’t help but wonder why she will go from being so happy and vibrant one minute to being so somber and quiet the next. But she and Ben seem to bring out the best in each other. His great quest is to come up with a spell that will make him completely impervious to cold so that they can make out more than five minutes at a time before her freezing powers make that impossible.

The hair brush has done the the trick, leading us across the island toward Verkovian’s lair. We’ve even managed to keep a pretty low-key presence – the gangsters at the docks have given us more trouble than the Council troops that have marched past us. Now, we have arrived at what appears to be a metal storage shed and the brush is pulling me down, straight down. I have to assume the entrance is inside this building.

We sneak our way around to the front door where Ben throws up one of his favorite illusions – the Emerald Eagle. Sometimes he makes himself look like the Eagle; sometimes the Eagle is merely an illusion he casts. Either way, Emerald Eagle looks like a big, brawny superhero and when Ben casts him the guards at the door go right for him. While they’re busy battling something that isn’t really there, we make our move and gain entry.

There’s nothing inside except an elevator. Fortunately it has no problem accommodating four skinny teenagers.

We’ll have to remember to try not to blow this lift up on our way back out.

The only reason I let these guys push me around is because they’re so big and there are so many of them. Besides that knockout gas at the hospital worked on me. It makes me think that maybe they can do anything they want so long as it doesn’t like hurt really bad or injure me severely.

So now I find myself shackled to this big freakin’ machine. Damn, Nita! Why'd you let yourself get into this mess?

The mad scientist is standing over a control panel flipping dials and looking at digital readouts. There’s one of those big electric thingies like in that old Frankenstein movie that has like electricity jumping across the room between these two big tootsie-pop-shaped whatsits. It’s arcing above my head and I can feel static popping on my skin. I hate these guys for a lot of reasons: they shoot flame-throwers at you when you’re just trying to get to the movie theatre; they always gang up like five to one in a fight; they’re uniforms are butt-ugly, and I don’t want to see what they look like under the helmets; they’re evil and want to take over the world; but most of all, I hate them because this – this… machine thing – is making my hair frizzy!

When I get loose, I’m so gonna make Verkovian pay.

12:23 am, Late, late Friday night/early, early Saturday morning, a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys…

“You’re giggling. Why are you giggling?”

“I’m so happy.”

“I was prepared for crying. In those Lifetime movies the girl is always crying right now.”

“I could do crying, if you want.”

“No. I like happy better, I think.”

“I can cry happy, silly.”

“But your laugh – it’s like life.”

“Life?”

“Yes. When you laugh it’s like all the good things in life are filling my ears.”

“That’s… well… silly, but sweet too. Just like you.”

“You find me silly?”

“And sweet.”

“You know how I find you?”

“How?”

“Like this…”



12:55 am, Late, late Friday night/early, early Saturday morning, a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys…

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“If I could freeze time at just one moment of my life, this would be it.”

“You’re sweet.”

“You’re… crying?”

“Can’t help it… I… I…”

“Shhh…”


4:10 am, Saturday morning, same place…

“Jessie… I… I know this might be rushing things, but after last night, I can’t help it. I love you so much that I can’t stand the thought of not waking up beside you. There is nothing I would not give up for you; no one I would not forsake. You are the center of my world. I may have no past, but I know that you are my future. Jessie, will you mar—“

“Mwhuh…?”

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, darling.”

“Whuh… were you whispering?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay. Going… back to… sleep… I was… dreaming… about… us…”

“I was too, love.”


11:10 am, Saturday morning, outside the grand suite…

“Rosa! No abra la puerta. ¿Ve usted la señal? "

"Pero la madre, cada suite no deben limpiarse diariamente?"

"Tenemos que hacer excepciones a veces. A veces, los adultos no quieren ser molestados".

"Pero no parece muy viejo para mí, mamá."

"Me di cuenta de que también. Pero eso no es mi negocio. A veces la gente no mira la edad que se encuentren."

"Sí, madre."

"Ven, Rosa. Vamos a la siguiente bungalow. Intentaremos de nuevo mañana. Tal vez se habrán agotado para entonces".



11:30 pm, Saturday night, the Life-size Chessboard at the resort…

“I’ll give you until I count to ten to finish me off, and if you can’t then I’m declaring myself the winner.”

“No fair!”

“C’mon, big boy. You can do it.”

“C’mon, Jessie. She’s heavy! Whatever made the other pieces slide so easy, my queen is missing it.”

“Doesn’t matter. You can’t get me in checkmate if you can’t move your queen. One.”

“And I’m exhausted!”

“Tough! You made me push my pieces off the board when you captured them. Two.”

“Fine then! Mmmf!”

“The veins are popping on your chest. Hot! Three.”

“I need help!”

“Look around, lover. Nobody here but us, and I’m not helping you. Four.”

“I’m going to use my telekinesis then.”

“Nope. Do that, you lose. Remember? We agreed -- no powers. Five.”

“But that was so you wouldn’t see my moves before—“

“Still, the rule was no powers. Six.”

“Victory is not worth this much – ungh! – effort.”

“But I haven’t told you what you win if you beat me. Seven.”

“Wait… what do I win?”

“Remember what we were doing at 12:15 this afternoon? Eight.”

“You mean the thing where…?”

“Yes. But reverse that and double it. Nine.”

“Ggyaaaaargh! CHECKMATE!”

“Shhh! You win. But be quiet.”

“Race you back to our suite!”

“Shhh! No need for that.”

“Wh-what?”

“Look around, lover. No one here but us.”

“Wait… you mean… here? Now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Yes!”

“SHHH! Someone will hear you!”

“Who’s going to hear? This is far, far away from any of the bungalo – oh no.”

"¿Está todo bien? Oí a alguien gritar."

"Sí, mi novio se acaba haciendo el tonto. Nos vamos de nuevo a nuestra suite, ahora."

“What did she say, Jessie?”

“She said ‘game over’. Now just shut up and come on.”

“But wait – we were…”

“Duh. We’re not now.”

“Sorry. I just got…”

“I know. You were just being a boy.”

“Ouch.”

“You deserved it.”

“Granted. Forgive me? Let me make it up to you?”

“Order us a midnight supper and we’ll work something out.”



1:10 pm, Sunday afternoon, the private beach area outside a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys…

“This whole weekend… it just doesn’t seem real. It seems like I’m dreaming. I don’t want to wake up.”

“It has been wonderful.”

“I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to go back to giant robots and alien invasions.”

“Let’s not think about that yet, darling. We still have tonight.”

“Everything’s changed, you know.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. I probably think too much. I shouldn’t be worrying about it now.”

“It’s all right. And you can’t help but think, Jessie. I’d rather have you that way than an air-headed—“

“ I just wish I could turn it off sometimes, y’know?”

“I know.”

“I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too.”

“There will be hell to pay if my dad finds out.”

“I don’t care. This was… right.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t.”

“Hey, Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“You know that thing I was trying to do the day we decided to do this?”

“Huh? The telepathy thing?”

“Not quite…I was trying to ‘tag’ you so I could sense you anywhere.”

“Oh. It didn’t work, I thought…why are you giggling now?”

“’cause it’s working now, I think. I’m not a hundred percent sure and I won’t be until we get back home ‘cause I’m not going far enough away to test it until then. But I’m pretty sure it’s working now.”

“That did it? Really?”

“Yeah. That did it.”

“Wow…”

“Want to go snorkeling?”

“Do you?”

“Not really.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I… it’s just that this is the first time I’ve seen the sun in like two days.”

“And the problem with that is…?”

“I feel…”

“Sensuous? Sexy? Vivacious?”

“Hehe! All of the above.”

“And loved?”

“And loved.”

“How about we walk to that café up the beach a ways? Stretch our legs a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan. Are shoes required?”

“I’m not certain clothes are required. But if there’s anyone there wearing more than we are, we can pick up a t-shirt at the hotel office.”

“Yeah. Well, if there’s anyone wearing less than we are, we’ll just come back and order room service.”



10:15 am, Monday morning, a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys…

“Omigod! Wake up! Wake up! The boat leaves for the mainland in ten minutes!”

“Wh--?”

“Clint! Wake up! We’ve got to throw our things in our bags and get going!”

“Oh. Oh yeah…”

“Come on! Get moving!”

“I’m not ready to go.”

“But we’ve got to.”

“There’s a plane that leaves at noon and goes straight to the airport.”

“Won’t that be expensive?”

“This whole weekend has been expensive. A little more won’t hurt, love.”

“But we can get packed in time to meet the boat if we hurry.”

“Or… we can stay a little while longer if we don’t.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”


Early Monday evening, on an airliner in the sky near Paragon City…

“Did you have a pleasant trip, sir?”

“Oh yes. Very.”

“I’m glad. You might want to wake her up, we’re approaching the airport.”

“Thank you, Ms.

“Love? Darling? Wake up. We’re almost home.”

“Don’t wanna wake up.”

“Neither do I, love. Neither do I.”

((Bump and explanation. I hurt my knee at work last week and was unable to sit at a desk for a couple days. Then, this weekend my computer died and what I had written on this story is on the hard drive. Until I get a new pc and get things transfered, I'm sorta out of commission. Thanks for your patience.))