I hid in the corner, careful not to move and make a shimmer that would give me away. I watched older me sign the bankers book, then followed them to the vault. It seems that the branch manager had contacted Mr. Smith soon after the Freakshow robbery, but Mr. Smith had been out of the country and this was the first chance hed had to come and check on his safe deposit box.
I knew what was going to happen when they opened it. I knew older me would look inside and say, Everything is just as I left it, because otherwise, it would prove that he really wasnt older me because he wouldnt remember taking the disk from it to begin with.
He didnt disappoint. He smiled and shook the bankers hand and then hastily (almost too hastily, it seemed to me) left the bank. Outside, a limo and driver awaited him. If I was going to follow, Id have to act hastily also.
TK powers are tricky. Levitating is easy, but actually building up speed is hard. Ive found that if I can latch my telekinesis onto a swiftly moving something (a large bird like a pigeon or crow will do) then I can use that to pull me along with little effort. The mass of a car however is more difficult to affect. I have to find a small part that sort of stands out from the rest and hold onto that. Strange, but thats the way it works for me. Unfortunately, most cars are made with aerodynamic surfaces, with very few interruptions in the smoothness of the vehicle.
I look over the limo quickly. There is a small ridge along the boot lid, and it is that which I anchor myself to as the limo pulls away. I follow a few feet above as the driver takes an insane route that seems as though hes going on a Sunday tour of the city.
For over two hours I fly with them, my head is pounding from such a prolonged TK workout. But I cant let him get out of my sight. Mysteries are piling upon mysteries here, and I know that Mr. Smith is at the bottom of it all.
Finally, in Indy Port the driver enters and alley between two warehouses. I hover nearby as older me gets out of the limousine and looks up -- at me! With a wave of his hand the car and driver both vanish as if they had never been. Incredible! Will I be able to do that in the future? Create things such as that with only the power of my mind?
Stunned and awestruck, I lose my concentration and fall to the ground, landing in a groveling heap at his feet.
Hello, Mickey, he says, I suppose you have questions
Its been a while since I was called that.
He comes out of the shadows and Julia takes a step backward. Someone shuts the door behind her, and she hears the lock click into place. Rough hands grab her and begin frisking her all over. The searcher kicks her feet wide apart and Julia holds her breath while he finishes his search.
She aint got it, Mr. Marcone.
Mr. Marcone? Julia realizes her face must mirror her confusion because Mr. Marcone says
I took my mothers name. It seemed the logical thing to do after all the stuff at the old school happened. Then he says to the rough-handed searcher, Thanks, Tony.
Your mother
? Julia is still confused. Who are you?
Marcone/Smith smiles at her, and for a second, he looks just like the youthful Smith she knows.
Isnt it obvious? Im your Smiths final fate. When things went bad for me in Paragon City, I returned to my roots, to the family business.
Youre notno way, Julia says as steps backward.
She finds herself bumping against Tony who grabs her in a bear hug and lifts her off the floor. Attempts to kick loose only make him squeeze that much harder.
Let me go! Julia shouts. Ill scream! Someone will come for me!
Marcone/Smith steps up close, so close she can feel his breath tickle her nose.
No one will hear you in this room, he says. We can do whatever we want in here and nobody will ever know.
Marcone/Smiths face is almost touching hers. She turns her face away, but he grabs her chin and pulls it back around.
Whats the matter, Jules? he says as he caresses her cheek and looks into her eyes. You liked me, once upon a time. You liked me a lot.
Not you, she says, trying not to show how scared she really is, I dont know you.
Wow. You really know how to hurt a fellow. But then, you always did.
To Julias great relief, the old gangster doesnt kiss her, but instead steps over to the array of computer equipment in the corner.
This is a special room, he explains. Did you know that Mr. Scott wasnt a computer programmer by trade? He was a quantum physicist. He did some work for Portal Corps and for NASA, among others. But then he did a no-no for a scientist he got interested in metaphysics and magic. He wound up creating the perfect chaos engine. Do you know what he called it?
Tony squeezes her as if prompting her to answer. I have an idea, she says.
He would have used it to take over the world, but there was an accident. What you see here
this room with its fusion generator and all this equipment
this was his backup plan.
Backup plan?
This room is set up to keep that server
Marcone/Smith pauses and sweeps his hand over the computer equipment for emphasis,
running indefinitely. And it does that in order to keep Mr. Scott alive. You see he now exists only as a data stream.
And youre telling me all of this why --?
Why? Because someone has decided that I should not exist and wishes to use this chaos engine to obliterate me from existence.
Paley Whitmore, now known as Speed Tap races through the city so fast that other people appear to be standing still. He stops a mugging. Steers a car out of a near-collision. Catches a fallen scoop of ice cream and replaces it back onto the cone before the child even realizes its dropped it. All in the space of seconds.
No one has seen him because no one can see him. The faster he moves, the faster he goes. The more he does the more he can do. Its addictive like a drug and he keeps moving -- sucking the speed out of the city as he burns up the streets. The buzzsaw of justice.
He goes so fast that Atlas Park is only a breath away from Talos. He runs now just to feel the speed. He lives between moments. He runs he runs he runs...
Exactly who are you?
I already know part of the answer, but simply saying he is an older version of myself doesnt tell me why hes here and how he got these amazing powers.
I am what you shall become. Or perhaps, what you may become.
Bah. I know Im given to obtuseness at times, but this is ridiculous.
Why did you go out of your way to put that game disk where I would find it?
There. Lets see him dodge that one.
Did I place it there? Or did you place it there?
Gyah! Fifteen or more years of living and Im still an [censored]!
Bloody hell, man! (Yes, I am losing my patience.) You promised me answers!
No. I promised you questions, Mickey.
It occurs to me that Im getting exasperated at myself
Stop calling me Mickey! My name is Smith just, Smith!
He sort of smiles at me then turns toward the warehouse door. No damned way Im going to follow him until he gives me some bloody answers. No. Damned. Way.
If you do not follow, then questions will be all you will ever have.
Bollocks. I follow him through the door and into
Not a warehouse
Ive been to Ouroboros. Ive traveled to Cimerora. Neither experience has prepared me for
Were on a plateau
clouds and golden
And then were
I never dreamed
The gods of Olympus! Im
The three crones the Fates
Oh my I dont think I can
No way! Im not
Oh
wait
this is
Jessie
? Wait !
Oh gods no! Thats not
Bollocks. I follow him through the door and into the warehouse.
Inside its just a normal warehouse and I wonder why he led me on such a roundabout trip to come here.
All right. Im in. Now, will you tell me what the hell is going on?
Older me looks at his watch and says, We havent much time. Then he tells me how he came to be. And how other mes have come to be and that the Fates are in a tizzy over it all. How it is all tied to that game and its creator and how Adam Scott was only biding his time until someone with my particular abilities came along and set into motion the events that brought us to this moment, except that Paley Whitmore had messed things up by being the person who broke the code instead of me and now Paley, Julia, and I are all stuck in a chaos loop
Then, he stops talking. He grabs me by the shoulders, lifts me from my feet as though I weigh nothing and sets me a meter or so to the side. He smiles, and holds up a finger
Cheese and crackers! Im a bloody mess! Literally! Im covered in blood and
And
Oh my gods
Im lying in two halves on the floor. It looks like something just cut right through me
Him! Cut through him
I mean to say hes lying on the floor. Im still standing and I really do not know whats going on
We couldnt go to our school, the Rock. Not with the odd entourage we have with us now. Even if the House had let us all in (yes, the building itself is sentient and sometimes it and I do not get along), wed never get past Mr. Kirby in security or gods forbid Old Man Kinsolving, the headmaster. So here we are back in Paley Whitmores room.
You have questions, Im sure. Well, Ill answer them. The minor one first: Why would Mrs. Whitmore allow us to come into her home with
well, who all is with us will wait for a moment. Ill just tell you that I used an old Jedi mind trick on Paleys mother and as long as we keep the door to Paleys room shut, shell never know were here.
Second question: What happened to the older me in the warehouse? Easy answer Speed Tap ran through him at an incredible speed. I know. Not very satisfying an answer, is it? It will do for now though.
Third question: Who all is in our odd entourage? All right, here it is: Me (of course), Julia (surprise!), the older me that Julia encountered (stuffed in a body bag, no less!), the older me I encountered (wrapped in a plastic tarp and stuffed in a large burlap sack!), and
well, Julias explaining about the fifth person in our group now.
so I thought you he! I mean he!was going to kill me for sure, when she
And here Julia gives a nod toward number five of our bizarre bunch a lovely young woman in her mid-to-late-twenties, Id say wearing a very tight-fitting, black catsuit. Then Julia continues saying,
showed up out nowhere and shot youhim! I mean she shot him!
The woman in the catsuit is, it is obvious to me, Julia about ten years in the future. Jules is a bit slender now; some would say skinny. But the older version
She fills out very nicely...
Hrhrm.
Anyway, Julias still speaking.
She shot him right in the head, but he didnt die. He just sort of fell down and it was like he was asleep. But when he fell, all his men disappeared. I think he had made them with his mind!
As young Julia talks, Catsuit Julia is working with Paleys PC, either on the game itself, or on Mr. Scotts data, trying to figure out what has happened and how to fix it. According to what Julias telling me, Catsuit Julia is some sort of hacker/spy/assassin type who works for a covert ops organization. She showed up in Adam Scotts place and
Oh, I need to explain that also. Julias already gone over it, but Im not sure you heard.
Adam Scott, the creator of Hero City, was a technomage. (Or was he a metaphysicist? Im not sure what youd call a scientific genius that dabbles in magic.) It seems he didnt much like the world as it was, and so he found a way that he might remake it the way he wanted it to be. Something went wrong, and Mr. Scott wound up trapped in data form on his own server. Catsuit Julia was skilled enough to load Mr. Scott onto a small memory chip (computer technology has advanced at an insane rate since 1998!), and she brought him here with her.
Okay, back to what Julia (regular Julia) is saying.
so she hacked into the server and retrieved him and we stuffed gangster you into the body bag and she teleported us back to Paragon.
Gangster Me is lying in the corner with Godlike Me (he cant just be called older me now, since there are two of them, both older mes). Theyre actually both awake and chatting now. They were arguing while ago, but they got too loud and I was afraid they would draw unwanted attention or distract Catsuit Julia from her work, so I told them to keep quiet or Id throw them both to the bottom of Platinum Lake. So like I said, right now theyre just chatting. I know its creeping Julia out because its creeping me out.
All right, Catsuit Julia says after a long while of working, Adam Scott has told me how to reverse whats happened to Paley. But he wants to strike a deal
Wait youre talking to him? I ask.
Yes. Hes still alive.
But
hes just data.
Were all just data when you think about it, Mr. Smith.
Well, of course. But I didnt think he was still sentient.
Catsuit Julia reads something off of the monitor and laughs.
He wonders the same about you, she says. And he wants to know if we want young Master Whitmore back.
I have got to get Paley back somehow.
What are his terms? I ask.
He wants Internet access.
Thats all? He doesnt want to be restored physically? It seems like a simple request to me.
Julia normal Julia explains to me, He didnt like the world before, remember? Why should he want back in it?
Catsuit Julia smiles at her younger counterpart and I can tell shes proud of the astuteness of that observation. Exactly, she says.
Julia normal Julia continues, But his request isnt so simple. His apartment might have had internet back in 1998, but I bet it was slow dialup. Its also possible that with the way telephone companies change ownership and services, that he wound up without any kind of internet access.
Quite right, Catsuit says.
Well then, I say, give him his Internet connection and lets be done with this.
NO! comes a shout from the corner. Its Gangster Me. Hes evil! EVIL! Hell use the internet to take over the world!
Catsuit smiles and says, Hes hardly evil. He just was unsatisfied with his life. If we give him internet access, there are countless virtual realities he can access or he can even create his own.
All right. This is getting too abstract even for me to follow.
Ask him how to get Paley back, and Ill guarantee him uninterrupted internet access.
I just hope Im not effing up.
Speed Tap runs. He cannot stop. No longer pausing to stop crimes, he continues to move, his body racing quicker than his thoughts. He knows only that he wants to keep this power and that someone would take it from him and he must stop that someone. Drawn to that person, he thought he had found him, but no. He was mistaken and by the time his brain processed the mistake, his body had carried him miles away and he could no longer feel where his target was located.
Speed Tap runs. He crisscrosses the city in a tight grid. Sooner or later he will find the one who would take this from him. He runs. He cannot stop.
Exposition first.
The game, Hero City, is a reality-warping chaos engine created a decade ago by the technomage, Adam Scott. Something went wrong with whatever Mr. Scott had planned, and he wound up trapped as data on the computer system in his apartment. The game and its abilities became the stuff of legend among certain technomagic circles, and a bounty was put out for its procurement.
Days ago, I came along with my own singular mind-over-matter abilities and found the disk while stopping a bank robbery. This was actually a pre-event manifestation of the activated program since an alternate version of me that was created by the game was responsible for placing the game where I would find it. (Dont ask me how that worked its maddening just to think about it.)
There were three of us in the room when the game was activated Paley, Julia, and myself. Paley was transformed into a superhero called Speed Tap, while Julia and I had older versions of ourselves created. We are guessing that since Paleys fingers were on the keyboard, he was chosen as the primary player and the older versions of Julia and I were created as support character Julia, some sort of super-spy and I, the villain. (The game must have tapped our minds because these characters seem to share many of our traits and memories.) Why it created a second, god-like version of me, we cannot figure out; perhaps its merely a symptom of the chaotic nature of the game.
Which brings us to the here and now.
Im right here and now Im standing in Skyway waiting for a run-in with Speed Tap. Literally.
Mr. Scotts plan is simple: Let the hero defeat the villain.
Therefore, after some city grid-mapping and plotting of Speed Tap sightings, the three mes have scattered around the city Gangster Mes body repaired by Godlike Me (who also repaired himself) as bait to trap Paley. We each have a quantum sink device (I think that is what Catsuit said it was she crafted it from parts she bought at Cookes Electronics and built it to Mr. Scotts specs) which, we have been assured, will stop Paley cold once he is within one-hundred yards of us. I just hope it doesnt affect any other unsuspecting heroes going about their business.
Smith-One? Julias voice says over the comm. Smith-Twos comm just went dead. We think Paley might have hit him before he was set up.
Probably, I think, or
Or the blighter escaped.
Well, Catsuits voice joins in, even if hes escaped that wont matter if the other two of you capture Paley. We can end this and put things back the way they should be before this event spreads and corrupts this reality and hell disappear same as me.
And that doesnt bother you? I say.
Why should it? Im not even real.
As I said maddening.
Nearby some Trolls are accosting a civilian. I send a gentle TK nudge their way that puts them on their bums and then a psi-blast to put them to knock them out for a bit. I dare not move away from the quantum-whatever device to tag them for arrest. They should be down for a while anyway.
Waiting is tedious. I can hear both Julias breathing over the comm, but neither says nothing. Godlike me is quiet also. Im standing here with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. Bloody hell, Paley, hurry it up.
As if my thinking about it made it happen (and whos to say it didnt?) an orange blur passes on the highway above me then disappears out of sight. It has to be him.
I saw him! I shout into my comm. But he passed me by!
Smith Three, be ready, Catsuit says.
Godlike me replies, I am always.
I wish I was.
Since Paleys passed me by, I turn off my device and prepare to head to the next likely location on the grid.
Any sign? Julia regular Julia says.
None, comes the reply from Godlike Me.
Im ready to move on when I hear the sonic boom
Speed Tap runs, so fast that he has to hold his mouth open to scoop air in order to breathe. He knows he should stop. He knows he needs food in order to sustain this accelerated pace. He needs liquids to replace what is evaporating from his sweat and saliva. But he cannot stop. He seeks the villain who would deprive him of his power, would deprive the city of its fleet-footed champion. Only after destroying this enemy will he be able to stop, to rest. So he runs, so fast that his thoughts begin to blur
Think, Smith!
Aha!
Speed Tap caroms one way, and I the other. He travels hundreds of yards before he can turn to make another run at me. Id be Smith-ereens if I hadnt realized something the moment I saw him in order for him to target me, he has to think. And Im pretty sure his pure speed is quicker than his mind. Therefore, in order to attack me, he has to slow down. That realization gives me an edge Im more practiced in my powers that he is. He has to process his attacks; I can defend myself reflexively. This time burst of TK sent us each in an opposite direction.
Here he comes ag GO UP, FOOL!
Silly of me not to think of leviating sooner. After all he cant
Buggers! Hes running up the embankment like its a ramp
Effin shaz! He barely missed me. Trajectory is not his strong suit, but Id better go higher if Im going to
What th
Where did he learn to do that? From a comic book? Hes bloody spinning like an effing top, whipping up a twister around him, lifting him toward me!
Clearly, Im not safe in the sky. If I could only get a clear focus on his face, I could psi-blast him into unconsciousness, but even spinning, hes moving too fast to get a bead on.
I go back to the ground because if Im going to get creamed, Id just as soon not fall two-hundred feet afterward.
Lets see
cant psi-blast him and the TK is only good for defense
Ah! Idea!
But hes nearly on me already! Have to time this perfectly
Ouch! Oh gods! It hurts! I think he broke my bloody leg!
But
Ha! It worked! I tripped him! Hes skidding to the end of the street and
Double-ouch! He just took out a concrete highway support. I think hes hurt worse than me. I just hope I havent bloody killed him. Julia doesnt deserve that kind of ending to this ordeal.
Oh, and of course Paley doesnt either.
Julia Kantner watches herself type at Paleys computer; a virtual person made real engaged in intercourse with a real person made virtual. She finds herself wishing that this older, more interesting, more confident version of herself could stay when this is all over. How is it, she wonders, that a virtual copy of herself could be so much better than the real her? Did she have that potential in her?
But she could ponder that later. At the moment, she had bigger things to worry about.
Smith had arrived twenty or so minutes ago with Paley/Speed Tap. Paley looked to be in rough shape and she felt like crying when they pulled the costume off to examine his wounds. The older Smith Smith-Two -- had healed them, but Paley still lies unconscious on his bed, kept unconscious by Smiths psi powers.
Now, the older version of herself was getting instructions from Adam Scott as to how to restore order out of this chaos.
Its ready, older Julia says after several moments. Even with all its magical manipulation of reality, the game still operates as a mundane computer program. All we need to do is seat Paley in this chair and get him to type this command, forward slash end game.
She smiles after saying it, a telling smile that lets Julia know how simply impossible that sounds. After all, there is no way Paley, in his current state, would agree to sit down and bring an end to all of this. Julia smiles back and sighs.
Then someone grabs her from behind.
Nobodys ending anything, Smith-Two says as he tightens his forearm around her neck.
How did you get in here? Smith the original one, the real one says as he narrows his eyes into a threatening squint.
I still remember how to do those Jedi mind tricks too, yknow, Smith-Two replies.
Smith-Threes brow furrows as he says, You must know that we do not belong here.
Julia knows that they are doing something psychically, either attacking or attempting some sort of mental domination. Smith-Two is holding her so tightly hes choking her.
Then suddenly, she feels heavy, sluggish. And she knows shes not the only one feeling it. The arm around her neck goes lax. Smith and Smith-Three stagger. Smith actually falls to the floor. The lights dim, and the display on the computer shrinks to a white dot.
I can see now, Paley/Speed Tap says, his body fairly crackling with electricity from the speed he is absorbing, that the only way to stop your nefarious league of evil is to kill you all.
At times like this I sometimes wish I shared some sort of orthodox faith so that I could more effectively curse.
When Gangster grabbed Julia, I lost my concentration on Paley, which allowed him to awaken. And of course he wakes up in a bad mood. Im lying on the floor, barely able to move. Hes drawing all of our energy to convert to speed. I imagine he might be doing so to the whole building, in which case our little tricks to hide our activities from the Whitmores are going to be pretty ineffectual. Theyll soon figure out the center of the phenomena is in this room and then Juilia and I are in huge trouble.
Paley is vibrating ball of speed now.
Julia! I shout, and they both turn and look at me. Hes your boyfriend talk to him!
She opens her mouth to speak, but Paley is suddenly standing right there at her, his face a blur.
Yes, talk to me, traitor!
Oh my, this isnt going to go well
Talk to me Julia! Tell me how you love me! Tell me that so I can call you a liar!
Julia doesnt break down, doesnt cry or get upset. Ive never lied to you, she says, and Ive never told you that I love you either.
Paley smiles, but its not a friendly smile. It doesnt matter I know youre conspiring with him to take away my powers! Traitor! Youll get your justice first!
He puts his finger to her forehead. Its reciprocating like a jackhammer.
Focus, Smith! Focus dammit!
Despite that hes drawing on almost every source of energy available, I manage to muster up enough psychic firepower to deliver one blast, so Id better make it
Oh no! Catsuit has drawn her gun! Shes going to shoot him!
NOOOO! And Im sure all of Paragon City hears my anguish.
Hey, boyfriend, she says, and when Paley turns around, she fires.
This has to be one of the strangest things Ive ever seen. The gun fires, the bullet shoots out of the gun like well, like a bullet! But then the energy is sucked out of it and it falls to the floor having traveled only a few inches.
Thats when I realize what Catsuit was going for. She wasnt trying to kill him. She was just giving him a sudden surge of velocity to draw from, allowing the rest of us to regain some of our own energy.
I regain my focus and Im sure now that I will not miss. Speed Trap is out like a light once again.
Catsuit trains her gun on Gangster Me so that he will not give us any further trouble. The Wentworths come barging into the room to see what is up, but Godlike Me causes them to forget why they came in, and sends them out for a pleasant dinner at the Hungry Dragon.
I telekinetically lift Paley into the chair, then manipulate his fingers to type in the slash-command...
My five year old brother could do this.
Paley Whitmore is a wiseacre, but hes the best hacker in my small circle of acquaintances. Hes never liked me, in the beginning because we were on rival soccer teams in the city league, but now, I think it has more to do with the fact that he is dating Julia Kantner, a girl who had a crush on me not so very long ago. He isnt a student at the Rock, but lives nearby. His father owns a popular chain of steakhouses in the northeast. Paley is trying to open the game I found in the bank vault on his pc. I had tried it on mine, but it was written for a much older operating system.
Your five year old brother knows more about computers than I do then, I say.
Serious, dude do you even know where the on-button is? His voice, as it always is when speaking to me, is full of derision.
I know how to turn on a computer, I say and immediately know I phrased it poorly.
Ha! I bet you blow in its ear!
It was a stupid joke, but I had expected it, and it would not have stung at all except that Julia was also present, a girl whose ear I had indeed once lightly blown into. I dont qualify it with a response. He looks to Julia to see if she will laugh, but she doesnt. Instead she looks at him with an empty expression that makes me very sad and regretful.
I stand by quietly while Paley works. I know what hes going to say next
Dude, theres nothing on this disk.
Ah, I say, then sorry for wasting your time.
Yeah, well dont bother me anymore with stupid crap like this.
I turn to leave, a small memory chip hidden in the palm of my hand. Without a word, Julia follows right behind me.
Wait, Paley says, Jules where are you going? I thought we were going to go see that new Vin Diesel movie later.
Julia doesnt even look at him as she says, I dont think so Paley.
Ill call you tomorrow then?
I dont think so, Paley.
Ah, yes. Yet another persons happiness ruined by yours truly.
Outside the building, I turn to her and I say, Julia, Im sorry.
Not right now, Smith, she says. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe not ever, okay? She quickens her pace to pass me as she heads back to the Rock.
I deserve that, I know. I watch her walk away.
Should I tell you if shell get over it or not?
The voice is familiar, but I shouldnt be hearing it. No one should. The person it belongs to should no longer exist.
I turn to face Godlike Me.
How--? You should have vanished along with every other thing the game created.
I never said the game created me.
Once again confused.
Then what are you? Me from a parallel universe?
Godlike Me laughs and says, My boy, dont you know? Oh wait! You dont know until I tell you! I remember now!
Know what?
That there are no parallel yous.
What?
There are no other versions of you in any other universe.
That makes no sense. In all the infinite alternate timelines
There is only one you.
Impossible.
Nothing is impossible.
My mind is boggled really. Im so mired in abstact concepts right now that I begin to doubt the likelihood of my own realness.
Then
I become you in the future? Are you what the Fates have in store for me?
I didnt say that.
Then say what you bloody mean! If youve come here to tell me something, then bloody effin tell me!
I already have. Goodbye, young me. I wish you luck in the ordeals to come. And quit worrying about the Fates so much. It gets tiresome to those who care about you.
He opens up something that looks very much like an Ouroboros portal and steps through it.
Wait--!
But its too late. Hes gone.
Hours later, Im alone in my room. Really alone. Adam Scott is installed on my computer, happily exploring a brave new virtual world. I
Im lying on my bed wondering about the ordeals to come that my older self mentioned. Theres a knock on my door.
Come in, I say.
Its Stephanie Martin, a girl I once fancied might help me get over Jessie.
Can we talk? she says
((Wild! Can't wait for another exciting installment 
))
((Alias Smith will return in Red Night.))
((HOORAY!))
((*Looks around for Red Night, frowns uncertainly and wanders back out*))
An old man, an ancient crime boss from a bygone era lies stretched out on a hospital bed just like he was any other old person whose body had worn out and was ready to quit. Hes not hooked to machines hes lived his life by force of will, and force of will shall keep him going until hes done. By his bedside sits another man, not as old, but not young either a large man, with a face like a bulldog and thick, heavy hands that were not made for tenderness. In those hands he holds a book.
Where is Angelina? the old man asks.
We dont know, boss. Her trail went cold in South Carolina.
And Paulie?
Him too. Its like they disappeared together.
Then what did you find?
The big man pauses as if he doesnt want to say, We found your son, Carli.
Ive told you, I have no son! Carli is dead to me!
Sorry boss
Angelina ran his crew thats common knowledge. She was always twice the man he was.
Yeah, boss that Arachnos trainin and all that.
The old man shifts in the bed and shakes his head sadly. Im ashamed. They should have had heirs. Someone to take over they business But Carli
he wasnt enough of a man. I thought once, when she came to see me, that I saw a belly on her that she might have my grandson inside her, but then she didnt come around for a while, and when I saw her again
no bambino.
A quiet minute passes before the big man says, Boss
I dont know how to tell you, but Angie was traveling with a kid. We think it was Paulies kid.
His kid? Well, find that kid and kill him then! Ten million dollars, Paulie too from us! Somebody has to die for that!
Boss
Gianni
I dont know how to put this, but
Angie and Paulie was knocking boots a few years back everybody knew about it, but I wouldnt let nobody talk about it.
The old man breathes out a wheezing sigh. Not man enough
Yeah, well, not long after that, she quits working for Lord Recluse alla sudden. We figured it was a conflict of interest, yknow? Her being Arachnos and Carli being a Marcone? Gotta say, it didnt break my heart when she gave up that career choice. I was against it from the get-go.
A hacking cough interrupts the conversation until the old man can speak again, and then he says, I was glad when she did that. Lord Recluse has been good to us, but those widows give me the creeps. I always thought Angie was better than that. The old man sighs, then adds, I didnt know about her and Paulie
they wait, are you saying
?
Yeah, boss. The big man with the bulldog face and large hands opens the book and holds it so that the older man can see. The book is a yearbook from Cap Au Diable High School. The big man points at a picture with the name Michael Mick Heller beneath it.
Angies
?
Looks just like his momma when she was that age except masculine of course.
The old man nods in response. What do you want to do, Angelo?
Don Gianni Marcone, when I find him, Id like your blessing to set my grandson up in the business.
Elsewhere
The God of War watches his former consort cavort across the Olympus plateau with his rival, the God of Light. She is different in this form: her golden hair, now raven black and her green eyes, brown. She looks like a human wench. But then she is a human wench a beautiful human wench possessed of the immortal spark of the Goddess of Love and Desire.
He thinks of his own situation his body that of a tattooed warrior, biker. He shares the memories of this Dewey Ray Wayne. Women and drugs and the road. And death. So much death that the God of War feels priviledged to make use of the man. So much death that the man and the god are nearly one.
The God of War has been biding his time, gathering his strength, testing the limits of his diminished power. There is nothing he would like more than to crush the last breath out of Apollos throat, then to take Aphrodite while her lover dies beside them. But that is not to be. They are protected from his violence by the Olympian Pact.
However, there is one whom they care about; one whom who shares the blood of the bodies they inhabit. And that blood is protected by no pact. It can be spilled.
Ares opens a doorway into another world and steps through it.
((Messed up the header, but this post and the ones immediately after it are all part of "Red Night".))
This hasnt been as easy as I thought it would be. Etoile doesnt operate quite like other places. Back in the U.S., I would find an apartment, have the power and cable turned on and then Id be moved in within days. Here, one must first find the apartment and pay the graft necessary to get a lease. Then you have pay additional fees to get the power turned on. Then theres cable, where you have to pay under the table to get the service and pay again when the cable man shows up and says that due to the difficulties of working in this neighborhood, Im going to have to ask you for hazard pay. And of course, he needs that up front.
With the help of a friend I did find a place, and have it sparingly furnished. Last nights search for a used piano turned into quite a hassle, since it seems to have been just a setup to get my companions and I to combat a cadre of Council. Yes, I said companions, and no, I have not made any new friends in Etoile. I have two associates from Paragon who have come with me. One I was overjoyed and completely surprised to have come along. I cant tell you how much her being here means to me nights alone can be terribly depressing, and doubly so in a place like Etoile. The other came at Jennys behest, simply because my adopted little sister is worried about me. How can I get upset at that? Right now, they shall remain nameless in order to protect them. Maggies Rock has some pretty strict rules regarding visiting to and from the Rogue Isles.
We never did find a piano.
Even more disappointing, the gig at the Golden Giza has turned out to be a gig at Goldies Pizza in Port Oakes. Its a casino-slash-bar-slash-restaurant frequented by dockworkers and prostitutes. Johnny Sonata says I have to work my way up to the big time. I have no idea how he means for me to do so, but then, I dont quite grasp the way the system works here. But Im learning, and at least the prostitutes tip well.
Tonight, neither of my companions are with me. Im going it alone. Not that I dont want them with me, but this should be a fairly simple thing to do, and the fewer of us there are, the less likelihood there is of getting caught.
Speaking of which, Im about to accomplish Item Number One on said agenda. Im at Cap Au Diable High School in of course Cap Au Diable. It seemed as though security was a bit tight for a high school until I thought about it and realized that if gangtsers children and Arachnos employees sent their children here, then yeah youd want a crackerjack security system. Thankfully, much of the system is composed of real-life humans, and for me, they are no problem to get past. A little mental manipulation, a cloud of reflective dust, and neither man, nor device can detect me. I find an old-fashioned padlock on a basement door, telekinetically unlock it, and Im in, levitating noiselessly up the stairs and out into the hallway.
Im in the high school because Im looking for
well
looking for myself. Meeting (and getting abandoned by) my parents was so traumatic that it cost me nearly everything that was important to me. Ive decided that that must never happen again, and therefore I am going to find the person that I was before I became just an alias, Sm
That sound. I didnt make it.
A hard sole. Probably a teacher who has stayed late. Or perhaps a security guard. I press myself against the wall and trust my stealth measures to keep me unnoticed.
For once, Im right. An old security guard walks right by without noticing me. Hes absolutely decrepit, with glasses so thick that his eyes are magnified into unrecognizable dark blobs. No way he could see me, even without my precautions. So far, so good. I head toward what I perceive to be the front of the school where I would think the administrative offices to be, and where the records are kept.
The office has a special lock on it. I dont think Ive seen its like before, and Im not sure how to open it. This leaves me with two choices attempt to break it and risk discovery, or abort tonights mission and come back when I have another opportunity.
Still, that lock is not going away so I might as well
Voices down the corridor! I hide against the wall again and wait for whoever it is to round the corner. Its the guard again and with him is a large fellow with a
dowsing rod?
I know I smelled someone here.
Bah! I should have figured that out the thick glasses this man is blind! Hes not in security for what he sees hes here for what his other senses perceive!
Ill find him with this, the larger fellow says.
The dowsing rod points straight at me
The last time I sat in a school administrators office it was in the Rock on that terrible day that led to my and Jessies breakup. Now, here I sit in an entirely different office (the name on the door says, Mr. Armister) anticipating a similarly dismal fate. Go me.
The old, blind, bloody super-olfactory guard and the dowser had me dead to rights. I had stayed hidden in hopes the dowsing rod would fail, but no, it succeeded. Its wielder was extremely strong and fast not Speed Tap fast, but damned faster than me. Even worse, he seemed to have some sort of natural defense against my psi powers. He didnt even seem to notice my attempts to subdue him. Probably a handy ability to have in Etoile.
I must say, however, that they are both very considerate fellows, and offered me the choice of being handcuffed to a desk or not being handcuffed to a desk, providing I behaved myself. At the moment my hands are bracelet-free.
Were waiting for the headmaster to come in and take care of me. The guards have assumed (probably to my great benefit) that I am just a student, sneaking onto campus at night to perform some minor mischief. They were very, very interested in my stealth abilities, and when I explained them away as something I found after observing a Goldbrickers vs Longbow battle, they seemed to believe me.
Really the guards dont worry me. Even though the one seems to be able to block direct psychic attacks, I could still use TK to bring the ceiling down on their heads, or even to create an airless bubble around them and knock them out that way. But theyve seen me. In undercover Ive been made. An act of violence on my part now would hamper my mission here; I dont really want to tip off anyone that Im anything more than what I appear to be. Everything now depends on what happens when the assistant headmaster shows up.
And right on cue
A small, slender man of middle age, with piercing violet eyes and thinning blonde hair steps through the door. He nods to the two guards. Ergetz, Tooley, he says, Good work. Then he is past them and hes standing over me.
I put on my most contrite face, try to look exactly my age and work up some tears. He regards me for a few seconds and then his mouth sort of drops open and he says:
Heller? Michael Heller? My God, lad! Where have you been?
I got a call from Johnny today. Ive moved up to a club called the Red Devil, a den of iniquity for Etoiles in-crowd.
The club is crowded. The clientele are chicly dressed in European suits and barely-there dresses, and theyre sipping sangria and trendy mixers while they all but make love in the darkened booths around the periphery of the lounge. Im playing cool jazz, trying stay beneath the impassioned whispers, and yet above the general din of quiet conversation.
This suits me. No one is paying any attention to the young man at the piano theyre all too wrapped up in themselves. And the steady, rhythmic tune Im laying down allows me to think while I play. No show tunes. No old standards. No dedications to impress women who are only impressed by the size of a mans wallet. Im not performing. Im barely involved in it at all. Im just letting the music go where it wants, letting my fingers follow along making melodies and rhythms out of some deep, unencumbered part of my soul. I like it. The people in the club like it, and they move to it.
As the music wanders, so does my mind. The past two days have been a blur. I havent seen my companions from Paragon City. I really miss Lightning (were calling her Street Lightning a nice incognito name). I havent been back to our apartment in a couple of days and I hope she isnt spending sleepless nights worrying about me.
As for the reason I havent been sleeping at the apartment...
Mr. Armister actually hugged me soon after he recognized me. It seems that, in addition to being an assistant administrator, he is the boys soccer coach, and that I was quite an up-and-comer on his team before I vanished. He had harbored high hopes for my junior and senior years.
I told him the truth sort of that I had lost my memory. I didnt tell him that I had another life in Paragon City. I explained away the Italian suit I was wearing when caught breaking into the school as something I had shoplifted while living on the streets, trying to remember my identity. Some truth, some lies. I didnt have to use my powers on him at least.
He told me that he was concerned when my family disappeared. He didnt have to add that he didnt dare ask questions about the disappearance. His chief concern was whether or not I was in danger, and so Ive spent the past two nights living incognito in the spare room in his familys home. I feel a bit bad about that, because as soon as Im done with the school, Ill vanish once again. In fact, I snuck out of there this evening so I could come to work.
My thoughts come back to the present when I find my attention drawn to the dance floor. From my corner of the lounge, I can see everything. A blue-white light above and behind me casts me in soft shadows and gives those within its glow an ethereal appearance. Its almost dreamlike, hypnotic, narcotic, watching them dance to my tune. This could be addictive. This must be what Steph feels when shes onstage.
A woman dressed in a skimpy, red band of silk dances with a man twice her age, her eyes black as onyx and her lips curved in a secretive smile. My eyes are drawn to her, not only because shes beautiful, but also because there is something familiar about her. Now and again, she glances my way, and the way she looks at me, I cant be sure if its because she also finds me familiar, or if perhaps while she danced with the gentleman, it wasnt really him she was partnered with.
The music finishes with me for the moment, so I whisper into the microphone that Im taking a short break. I reach up and turn out the blue-white light that illuminates my corner, and then I sit in the darkness and take in the ambience of the night. Whispers and quiet conversations fill the void left by the silenced piano.
The dancers scatter into the shadows or crowd up to the bar and I lean back and stretch my arms to keep them from getting stiff and close my eyes to give them a rest.
Im surprised when someone presses her lips against mine. I dont have to see her to know who it is. The dancer. Maybe its the atmosphere of the club. Maybe she has meta powers. Or maybe I am a shameless opportunist. I kiss her back.
She slides beside me onto the piano bench, pushes me over with her hip and thigh, and kisses me again. When its time to start the music again, she is still beside me keeping my rhythm with her fingers. I leave the light off and play in the dark.
The Red Devil isnt the kind of place where the bartender gives a last call. Its the kind of place where people know when its time to leave, and those that do not are well-connected enough so that Ellen, the clubs owner, doesnt mind staying discreetly in her office in the back until they do.
So when the lights go out and the place gives way to the night, and the piano resonates my final note of the evening, the black-eyed beauty leads me to a softly cushioned booth far in the back of the club.
Gyah! What was I thinking!?!
Around 4 a.m., Ellen came out of her office and woke us up, the dancer and I. That wasnt so bad. What was bad was what happened when she turned on a light.
No. Its not what youre thinking. The woman I was with was indeed very beautiful. Stunningly so. Any man on Earth would feel privileged to wake up beside such a woman.
The black-eyed dancer wasnt the problem. I was.
You see, when Ellen turned on the light and we opened our eyes, the woman I was with took one look at me and said, Mickey?
Apparently she had been my Humanities teacher, Ms. Devereaux. Her screams of horror at the predicament were probably very comical indeed. Only I didnt feel like laughing. I felt many things then, but mostly disgust at myself for allowing this to happen. It made me feel so hollow, and reminded me in a most severe way that I am not cut out for meaningless one night stands.
I made Ms. Devereaux forget who I was. I had to. I did it so discreetly that Ellen didnt notice, and when I told Ms. Devereaux that she was mistaken, and that I was, in fact, Donny Le Mat, 21 year-old lounge musician, Ellen seemed to think nothing more of it. Ms. Devereaux left me her phone number. I do not plan to use it.
I returned to the Armister home, sneaking just in as I had snuck out.
The strange night gave way to an even stranger day. Mr. Armister had been kind enough to bring home all of my school records that were available. Some items were missing due to some sort of investigation Arachnos did into my familys disappearance, but there was enough left for me to piece together my educational background.
I was, apparently, a B-student. Some things remain the same at least. I had an aptitude for music and literature. Figures. The report cards had comments such as, model student, and, I wish all of my students were as well-mannered as Michael. How sweet.
I moved on to the yearbooks and quickly found my entry. (I had guessed correctly when I figured that my hair was originally dark like my mothers, as it was currently dyed instead of its usual white.) I knew I had played soccer, but I was also on the swim team. Nice.
And then I ran across the group shot of the cheerleading squad. There was a girl there. Very pretty. Petite. Blonde. Well-proportioned. Something about her
I found her in the main body of the yearbook and so put a name on that lovely face Colleen Harris. There was a connection there. A crush? Was she my girlfriend?
I asked Armister about it and he replied that I never had a girlfriend to his knowledge that I was far too shy. And besides, she had left the school before I did. A shame that. It would be kind of nice to think that someone very special had missed me when I disappeared.
As the time for the evening meal came, I decided that I had seen enough and snuck away. When I get back to Paragon, Ill send Mr. Armister a message to let him know that I am all right, and that his example proved to me that good people could still thrive in bad places. For now, I just leave a thank you note.
I arrive at the apartment three days after having slept here last. There is no sign of Lightning the bed doesnt even look like shes slept on it. Maybe shes left me again.
I barely have time to let out a lonely sigh before theres a knock at the apartment door. I peek out through the peephole and see a magnified eyeball looking into mine. The door comes crashing in, knocking me down, and landing on top of me.
A hand big enough to wrap all the way around my leg wraps around my leg and lifts me so that Im dangling upside down. A face as big as my torso is looking at me. Its not a pretty face.
Holy crap, boss, the giant says, You gotta fgive me sometimes I dunno my own strength.
All I can think is
Boss?
((Something's not right. It doesn't seem to be adding any views to this thread. I'm not fishing for readers, just wondering if there's something wrong. Please send me a pm if you've read any of this since the boards changed. Thanks. 
))
I have about a years worth of memories. Thats it. Everything else that I know about myself is as if its about another person. The pictures in the yearbook were like looking at a strangers life. And the thing with Ms. Devereaux neither weirded me out, nor gave me the thrill that some fellows my age would have in finding themselves in that situation with an attractive teacher. It just felt like a meaningless, hollow tryst with a stranger. I am quickly finding out that whatever connections I was looking for in the Rogue Isles just arent there. Im feeling more disconnected than ever.
But things arent entirely bleak (that said in irony); while the kinds of connections I came to find so far elude me, Ive discovered that I have connections of a different kind. Im a Marcone. Not as in just being a member of the organization. Im a Marcone. By blood. My maternal grandfather has thoroughly proved it. Blood tests. Saliva swabs. Family photo comparisons (which seemed to hold more sway with my great-uncle than all the science that was involved). I am definitely the son of Angelina Marcone, daughter of Angelo Camilleri, nephew and adopted son of Don Gianni Marcone.
Don Gianni is not the Don, exactly. Hes very old and is looked up to by all the different factions of the Family. The Marcones go to him for his blessing and not for his permission. Its a matter of respect. (Its an aspect of the organization that I find oddly appealing.)
Being the favored offspring of the favored offspring, I have suddenly found myself as a
well
Tiny calls me boss. I suppose I am a Mafia boss-in-training. I have a new place in Marconeville.
Tiny is my bodyguard and right-hand man. Hes the gent who knocked down my apartment door. He had it fixed, of course. I told him I had a girlfriend living there and he understood completely. Even oversaw a few upgrades by the buildings owner.
Im not old enough to have my own territory yet, but the way Tiny explains it, Im being groomed to take over Carli Marcones business, which was, for all practical purposes, run by my mother.
Business is a word I hear a lot these days. It never means quite what it should. There is like a gangster-code that I do not understand as yet. For example, heres an actual exchange:
Hey, Gino, hows business?
Yo, Vito, I told you, stay out of my business.
Hey, Gino, are you giving me the business?
It makes me afraid that Im going to slip up and say something wrong:
Yo, Vito, Gino hows business?
Oh, Mickey, you done messed up. Now were putting you out of business permanently. Capiche?
But I shouldnt worry about that. As I said, I am the favored child.
Tiny took me around to my future domain. (My grandfather runs it now, having peacefully combined it with his own holdings when his daughter disappeared. And by peacefully, I mean that he had enough firepower so that no one challenged him.) I met all of the wonderful people whom I am to squeeze protection money from and to whose spouses and children I am to supply narcotics. Its a wonderful life.
At night, Im still playing Donny Le Mat, though now Im wearing shades so that Im not easily identified. How do I manage this double life if I have a bodyguard with me all the time? I just tell him that Im going clubbing and that I dont need no chaperone. He just smiles that big ugly smile of his and says, Dont catch nuthin, Boss.
Yeah. He calls me Boss.
Im an effing gangster.
Julia Kantner steps out of the taxi in New York City. The three-plus-hour train ride had been nice and she had enjoyed sitting beside the Canadian lady and her little girl. They had shared a taxi into Manhattan and Julia had learned all about the Wonder Pets and Yo Gabba Gabba!
Now, Julias mood has changed as she stands outside the austere building wherein resided Adam Scott, the programmer of Hero City. The man is a legend among archaic pc game enthusiasts, having developed text-based RPGs way back in the 80s and creating some (at the time) amazingly rendered 3-D video games back in the 90s when PC platforms were capable of much more than game consoles. Hero City was to be his masterpiece, but he retired before its release, and the game never made it to market. He became a recluse; his only contact with the world now was via the internet. When he had agreed to see her, Julia snuck away from school and took the first train to NYC.
There is no doorman, only a series of buttons with apartment numbers on them. She presses the appropriate number for Mr. Scott.
Hell-o? a voice says to her from the speaker below the buttons.
Mr. Scott?
Who wants to know?
Im Julia Kantner I emailed you and you told me I could come?
Do you have the disk?
Julia thinks for a moment. Should she tell him she didnt? Would he still see her? She had wanted to bring it, but if it was important or valuable enough for someone to rob a bank to obtain, she had decided it was too big of a risk to bring it with her.
Yes, she lies, I do.
Then come right up.
A few minutes later she is standing outside of Mr. Scotts apartment. Before she can knock, from inside someone says, Come in!
Julia tries the door and finds it unlocked.
The inside of the apartment is a mass of wires. Tangles of them hang from floor to ceiling. Thick black ones snake across the floor everywhere. Somewhere she can hear the low hum of a small fusion reactor. The only light in the room comes from a lone computer monitor in the far corner of the room.
Julia steps in, careful not to trip on a cord.
All right give it.
Julia peers into the darkness. There are figures standing among the wires, shadowy men whose silhouettes speak of Italian suits with shoulder pads.
Who are you? she asks.
Dont you know me? one of them says as he steps toward her.
The light from the hallway catches his face and she gets a good look at him. Hes fiftyish, tall, slender, with a hard, handsome face. She does recognize him. The white hair is still the same, though receding just a little, but the main thing is his eyes. A persons eyes always reveal who they are.
Smith? she says.