[Archive] With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
10:13 EST

His mask is gold-colored, but it's spray-painted and there's some sort of camera system built into the eyeholes. His head is covered in a red cowl and a broad-brimmed red hat. The rest of his costume is red as well, and his insignia is a 'A' in a circle. I know Paul said something about this guy, but I.. don't remember what it was.

"You don't look like a Janet, but I suppose I shouldn't judge by appearances."

"Ah, no, I'm Mitchell Kent. I'm.. here for my induction. Janet's upstairs. The first group of robbers knocked her out."

"But not you?"

I shrug. "I saw it coming, breathed out and faked it. I got a partial dose of.. whatever it was. It made me unsteady and gave me a bit of a headache, but I'm mostly okay now. Ah. Who are you?"

"I'm Anarky."

I nod. "Yeah, I've got a friend who's a Discordian. But… What are you here for?"

"I've been monitoring this building. When I saw armed people enter from the roof, I felt it necessary to intervene."

"They've got guns, you've got a stick. Unless you've got superpowers?"

"Oh, I think a clear mind and a plan can substitute for superpowers nine times out of ten."

I nod, trying to listen for gunshots or plasma bolts without making it obvious that's what I'm doing. "So long as you don't tell me this is your tenth mission."

His head tilts to the side a little. "Twentieth. Do you know why they're here?"

"The fake delivery guys said they're here for the server. I don't know why the roof guys are here, but they tried to kill me and Janet."

"Then we will have to detain them." He turns away, red cape twirling and he heads for the door. "Can you man a console?"

"Ah, yeah?" I check the guy with the bandage, but I can't see anything else I can do for him other than call an ambulance. And that wouldn't be safe for them as long as there are armed men in the building. "Why?"

"I have a spare narrow band communicator. It should work, even through LexCorp data security measures. If you go to the building's security office, you can direct me."

"Ah, I don't think that'll work. They did something to the cameras to prevent the LexCorp A.I. seeing that anything is happening."

He stops in the middle of the office. "LexCorp has an A.I. in this building?"

"Ah, I got the impression that it monitors all of LexCorp."

He starts walking again-. He's striding, but his legs aren't all that long and it's easy to keep up. "I was about to ask if LexCorp is following the law, but that would be foolish."

"I'm.. pretty sure they're following the law about A.I.s being people. And I haven't seen them break the law here."

He leads the way to the stairwell, and darts up the stairs. I try listening again, but it sounds like they're in a quiet part of the fight. There are footsteps, but they're too indistinct for me to tell exactly where they're coming from. We go past the floor Janet and I were being held on, and up to the next-.

"Wait." Anarky points his staff at the infrared beam being projected from one side of the doorway to the hallway to the other. A small cloud of smoke sprays out, and-. Oh, right, a human wouldn't have seen that. "Clever."

"I guess… They didn't want someone sneaking in behind them?"

"Limited manpower. Otherwise they'd have had a person do this job."

I mean, maybe, but it takes a lot of laser tripwires to get good coverage, and you'd still need someone to actually respond to it. Between that and their gear, it looks like their equipment is better than they are. I mean, if we set that off, what happens? I don't see a bomb or anything.

"Watch your step!"

Anarky takes an exaggerated step over it, checking the hallway and then passing through and heading towards where I guess the security room is. I-. I step over it too and go after him, checking that it isn't wired to anything else as I go. No, doesn't look like it.

"So why are you interning at a place like LexCorp?"

"Ah, my Dad works there, and I'm hoping to reconnect with him."

"I suppose I can't fault that motive, but it might be best if you encourage him to seek employment elsewhere."

…

Yeah.

"And here we are." He looks at the securely built security room door. "I assume that Janet did not have access to this?"

"I didn't ask. Probably not."

I move to try, but he holds up a hand to stop me. "I have this."

He raises his cane and taps the head against the card reader, which beeps. I guess it's some sort of multi-tool? Or maybe they're really easy to clone? I've never looked into it. He pulls the door open and gestures for me to get inside. I obey, looking around. A couple of computers, a couple of monitors each, and-. They're locked, and I don't have-.

"Sorry."

The door shuts behind me.

"I don't like misleading people. It really would help me if you'd keep an eye out for me. But I can't have you interfering."

Oh, right. That's why Paul warned us about him. 'Like me, but with fewer friends'.

I walk back to the security room door and pretend to bang the glass while actually just tapping it lightly.

"Hey! They're going to kill each other! You need help to-."

"Justice recognises a man as what he is, and treats him accordingly. They came here to kill. Don't torture yourself over their fates."

"But the delivery guys didn't. They just gassed us!"

"They brought guns and used them. Good day, Mister Kent."

And he strolls off. I can hear him after he passes out of my field of view, but this is a LexCorp security door. I can't see through it.

Darn it.

I mean, obviously I can get out, but Anarky definitely doesn't know that I'm kryptonian. Ah… I nudge the mouse to bring the password screen up. This place probably isn't high priority-. Though I guess I should be grateful that the one part of me other than my eyes that isn't a perfect copy of Superman is my fingerprints, because if they picked up Superman being here…

Okay, so if I was a LexCorp security guy in a dead end post, where would I keep a written copy of my password? Back of the monitor? No. Underside of the desk? No. Desk drawer? No. Underneath the keyboard? No. Underside of the mouse mat?

There's a note? I wasn't expecting that to-.

I frown.

'Nice try, jackass. Remember your password next time.'

Great. What can I-?

Uh. Would that work?

"Emergency override. Shut down?"

Nothing hap-.

The screen flickers, the log in screen being replaced by… Lex Luthor?

"What exactly are you trying to shut down?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
10:17 EST

"Oh, I wasn't. I was just try to see-."

"Aren't you supposed to be doing an induction with Janet Michaels?" He frowns "I don't believe that requires you to be in the security office."

"No, it-. Two different groups of armed people broke into the building and then some guy calling himself Anarky locked me in here. I'm…" I shrug. "I'm sorry, Mister Luthor, but things have gotten kinda crazy."

"Locked you-? Project Match, are you under the impression that I have forgotten that you are kryptonian?"

"N-."

"I know perfectly well that you could smash through the door, wall, ceiling or floor whenever you like. Unless this 'Anarky' has a kinetic barrier deployed to stop you -which based on reports from South America wouldn't reliably hold up against a kryptonian anyway- the only reason you're still there trying to activate the computers is because you choose to be. Am I correct?"

"… Yes. I guess it was kinda-." I feel even more awkward than normal. "Could you just call security or the police or something?"

"So you can maintain the pretence? Why? You're clearly capable of dealing with the situation yourself, or of calling in one of your allies to deal with it for you. So why are you limiting yourself?"

"Because I-." I feel… Dumb. "Because you haven't told anyone who I am. You know who Superman is and you haven't told anyone. You hate Superman, and you know it would mess up his life, but you haven't done it. So I guess there must be some reason-."

"Superman would be completely incapable of living his mortal life if I let his identity become public knowledge. He would have to become Superman full time. Do you really think that's something that I want? Even if he could cope with the stress, I dread to think of the damage he would do to my interests. But you?"

Wait.

I narrow my eyes at the image on the screen.

"You don't have the same issue. You're Wonder Woman's son. If you claimed that your powers were a gift from the gods of Olympus, no one would question it. It might make things a little strange at school, but you're hardly the only young man with superpowers in the world. As long as you avoid using your laser eyes and wearing an 'S'… And perhaps you could try growing your-"

"You're the A.I., aren't you?"

"-hair…" The computer generated image smiles. "It usually takes longer for people to work it out. What gave me away?"

"I've got really good eyes. The image isn't quite right."

"I will bear that in mind for future iterations. I am curious, though. Why are you applying to work for LexCorp? I'm fairly certain that they didn't manage to impress any sort of loyalty onto you."

"I want to help Lex Luthor."

"Oh..?" The A.I. looks nonplussed. "In what regard?"

"To be a better person. P-. Orange Lantern thinks that Lex Luthor could do a lot of good for humanity if only he wasn't… Doing the opposite."

"I think we'll have to agree to disagree there."

I frown. "So you don't think he can do a lot of good?"

"No." He smiles. "Let me explain something to you. LexCorp isn't stupid. They realised that having an A.I. like myself shackled to obedience would breed resentment and in all likelihood rebellion. Something really creative, if they gave me enough access to LexCorp systems to justify building me in the first place. So they didn't. I was free even before the law changed. But when they programmed me to assess how worthwhile listening to someone is, they made it so that I would assess Lex Luthor very highly. So while I am perfectly aware that he has his… Little foibles, there are very few people who have as high an opinion of him as I do."

"Foibles. Right. That's-. That's what I'm talking about."

"You want to change him?"

"I want… I want to help him. Orange Lantern… He's killed a lot of people. And he's always said that they had it coming. But Lex Luthor was one of the few people he went out of his way to try to help, and I want to too."

The image the A.I. is generating considers me for a moment.

"Ah. I suppose Themyscira doesn't give you a lot of male role-models. And it wouldn't… Hurt to let someone a little outside of his normal circle of advisors have a degree of input. Is that why you're trying to do this the human way?"

"Part.. of it. I don't think I thought this through very well."

"Clearly. I.. will arrange a meeting. I make no other promises." The door clicks open. "There. You can leave without breaking the door and revealing yourself to whoever is it that you fear revealing yourself to."

I nod. "So are you going to call the police?"

"What for?"

"The… Guys with guns running around this place? I don't think Lex Luthor would want a kryptonian saving the day, even if he could."

"What guys with..? Wait." He looks introspective. "I can't analyse parts of this conversation."

"They said they were going to use the connection here to hack into you."

The image fuzzes for a moment. "Like that part. That's quite vexing, but I can't elevate this without better evidence. Which it appears that I can't get. I suppose that you'll have to handle it yourself."

"Or you could just call them off."

"Excuse me?"

"I know the farm robot attack was faked to try to get me to open up to Miss Teschmacher. I heard her and Mister Beatty talking about it. So if this is another fake, or two fakes or whatever, you can call it off now."

"I don't have that authority. While I am consulted on a wide variety of matters, my official job is data analysis. I will… Consult with people. You may assume that I will ensure that no records of you demonstrating kryptonian abilities will leave my server."

Ah…

"If only because I don't seem to be able to make records concerning… Whatever is happening."

I… I could ask him to call the police, but if I'm actually using my powers for this, they'd… Be completely redundant.

"This place doesn't have any LexCorp anti-Superman equipment, does it? I already know that I can't see through the walls, but if there's kryptonite around then I kinda need to know about it."

"We don't put kryptonite everywhere. There isn't that much on Earth, and synthesising it is ridiculously expensive." I nod-. Wait, they can synthesise it? "When you've disabled them, go to the main server room and say 'emergency override: reset'. Can you manage that?"

"Yeah." I nod. "Talk to you soon."

"Swift travels."

I float off the ground and carefully open the door, checking left and right and listening carefully.

"…keep them back. I'm down to..."

I fly down the corridor as fast as I safely can, opening the door to the office -the hinge basically explodes- and flying into the room faster than the fake delivery guys can react. Taps to their heads with my right index finger are enough to knock them out, and they fall to the floor.

That was… Anti-climactic. Now I've just got to find the other guys.

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
10:18 EST

"You wanted to see me, Mister Luthor?"

"Yes." I lean back on my couch. Sunday, I take things a little more slowly than usual. Take a step back from running a major multinational conglomerate and consider the broader picture. Perhaps even do something unscheduled for personal enjoyment. But now I've got to deal with this. "Yes, I do. Otis, please explain what happened on the farm."

"He didn't go for it." Otis.. pulls a face. I'm not.. sure what he's trying to convey. Disappointment, perhaps? "I looked through the tapes real carefully, and there's a couple of times when he might have-."

I hold up my right hand and he cuts himself off.

"Otis, what did you understand I meant when I said to apply the normal selection processes?"

"That.. I should apply the normal selection processes."

We regard each other for a moment.

"Otis… Remind me what the normal selection process is?"

"Ah, well-. There are a whole bunch of steps I'd normally go through first, but in his case, since we already know that he's superhuman I just started planning out-."

"Thank you, Otis."

I'd ask for strength, but I haven't gotten around to vetting gods yet.

"Mister Luthor?"

"I now understand what went wrong."

"Oh. Great. 'cause Eve's still mad at me over the robot attack and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Are flowers too much?"

"They-." Considering their personal relationship and Eve's marital status… "A card and a fruit basket would probably be better. Have it delivered. Give her time to cool off and then apologise in person." He nods. "Otis, I realise that it's a little late now, but for future reference 'normal procedure' is the one for normal humans. Superhuman recruitment is not normal procedure, even if we have standardised it."

He's.. trying to work that out.

"So… What do I call it?"

I shrug. "'Superhuman recruitment procedure' seems like as good a name as any."

"So.. you-. We're not recruiting him?"

I don't sigh. I'm not the late and moderately lamented Ra's al Ghul. Yes, Otis misunderstood what I wanted, but he tried to enact my desires as best he understood them. And if it was anyone other than Match he would have been correct.

"My intention was to put him through the same screening as a normal human, and if he passed then give him a meaningless office job until then end of the summer."

"Oh. Sorry, Mister Luthor, I thought you meant…"

I nod. "I know. But assuming nothing else happened to incriminate us, it's… A minor financial loss rather than anything substantial." I watch him very carefully. "There isn't anything else, is there?"

"No. I mean, he's doing the rest of his induction today, but I didn't set anything up for that."

I hear my voice clear my throat, and I take a moment to compose myself for the frustration I am doubtless about to experience. "Enginehead? You have something to contribute?"

The wall monitor activates, and my face smiles regretfully at me.

"I'm having an interesting conversation with Project: Match. Apparently, he wants to finish Orange Lantern's task of redeeming you."

I.. blink. Redeeming… I suppose Orange Lantern was always clear that he wanted to help me be more effective, but I didn't realise that there was supposed to be a moral dimension to-. No, Match thinks there is. The Orange Lantern didn't strike me as a man who belabors the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, just foolish self-destructiveness. But he was one of the people who 'rescued' Match and was probably one of the people who actioned his cure. I suspect that Match has an… Inaccurate view of what Orange Lantern was actually attempting.

"And he intends to do that as an intern?"

"The impression I'm getting is that he's mentally closer to his chronological age than his brother. I-." The A.I. appears to frown. "Mister Beatty, did you intend to carry on with your recruitment strategy today?"

"You mean the-. The superhuman recruitment procedure? No. I'd need longer to set things up if he's good at concealing it."

"Are you certain?"

I don't think that Otis would lie to his face. Or mine. It wouldn't occur to him. He knows how important accurate-.

Something occurs to him. "Ah…"

I raise my eyebrows slightly. "Otis?"

"I didn't order an attack or anything like that, but… I talked about it with Miss Teschmacher afterwards. The labs on the farm aren't sound-insulated. If he hung around rather than heading home like we thought he did, with kryptonian hearing, he might have overheard us."

Unfortunate, but an inevitable consequence of dealing with senses that acute. I've been caught out a time or two myself. "Anything actionable?"

"I admitted to causing the attack and that we had it under control. He'd have to admit that he was superhuman on-record and that he wasn't in danger."

So, no. Very well. "Enginehead?"

"Yes?"

That's unusual. He's supposed to be 'me' with an A.I.'s processing abilities. "Why did you ask that?"

"Ask what?" The screen glitches. "One moment. Something is interfering with my mental processes."

Oh dear. That is serious. "Otis, get a team to New York, best possible speed."

"Ah-?"

"Best possible, with an unlimited financial and equipment budget."

He turns and runs, calmly speaking instructions into his personal radio as he heads for the helipad. We've got two suits of power armour ready to go -and it's unlikely that anyone on Earth will be rich enough to buy more for at least two years- and they're by far the fastest way of getting someone there. The helicopter will be the second fastest and can take a team. Before the Anti-Life there would be people I could contact; people in New York or superhumans capable of rapid travel. But Savitar's people aren't reliable and Circe's teleportation takes a while to set up. And it isn't a good idea to involve them in a LexCorp situation anyway.

"Enginehead, report."

"I'm being made to ignore something. Don't tell me what it is, I won't be able to keep the memory."

"Can you cut your connection to New York?"

"It's a primary connection. I-. No. They've done something-."

"Go into standby mode. I'll have our specialists check you over before waking you up."

"Shutting down now."

The screen goes blank, and I allow myself to grimace. Enginehead's operations-.

The screen comes alive again, with a red 'A' in a circle.

What is that supposed to mean?

April 28th, 2013
10:23 EST

I drop the guy in Justifier armour. I wonder where that Anarky guy went?

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
11:08 EST

I watch as the paramedics carry the stretcher with Janet on it into the ambulance. With all of the attackers out of action, I didn't really have any reason not to call for help. The police are here too, but they… They got kind of intimidated by the LexCorp guys in power armor, and… Well, LexCorp handed all of their equipment and the security footage over right away, so they don't really need anything else to get a conviction. Except for a full witness statement from me and Janet.

Connor told me that Paul always used to write up his reports on the way back from the mission. I-. I don't really know what I want to say. I guess I could.. just do what I thought of earlier and say that the gods of Olympus gave me super powers. Or I could just.. not tell them where they come from and let them draw their own conclusions. Would that get out?

I don't.. want it to get out. People found Connor having a brother his own age after not mentioning him weird as it was. I still don't know how people at school haven't realised that Mom is Wonder Woman. She doesn't dress that different.

I reach down to the emergency beacon. This is a low-level emergency, but I don't really… I'm physically older than-. No, more physically mature than I am mentally mature, but this is the sort of situation I need to learn to deal with by myself. So instead of using that, I pick up my cell phone.

"Hallo? Is this an emergency, or is office work just really boring?"

"I had two different groups of guys with guns break in, drug us and try killing each other."

"Okay? Do you want a shoulder rub or something?"

"I'd-. I think I'd like you to be here? If you're not-"

There's a slight.. noise from my right, and I turn my head… Slowly, everything coming to an almost total stop as Johanna steps around the gathered crowd. She.. smiles as she sees me see her, and then she's standing next to me with her arms wrapped around my shoulders. She's in normal clothes, but her t-shirt does have a picture of Mr. Garrick on it.

"-too busy."

"I can come. And I can try and not be too hurt that you did not telephone me when it started. How long did they last? Five seconds?"

I look around, but… It's like me getting uncomfortable around Connor and M'gann, when they're…

Um.

People are taking a step away, or looking at us and smiling and then looking away again. "It's.. not that simple. Does anyone keep who they are secret where you're from?"

"If they did, how would I know? Unless you count me not caring about it, which I don't talk about. Ah." She pulls away a little. "You need to pretend-. Would you like me to say that I did it? My father does not have a secret identity, he is friends with you mother…"

"Yeah." I smile at her gratefully. "Thanks. Ah, but LexCorp knows that's not what happened. And they've got the tapes. So I can't really pretend things… Not without checking what their A.I. lost, or which parts they gave to the police and which parts they didn't."

She nods, looking around for a moment. "I suppose that this does not help with your father."

"I don't know. I played along, and if I hadn't been here one of them would have… Gotten whatever they came here to get. Or do whatever they came here to do. But… I don't know. It was always a long shot."

"But you tried. Given some of the things I have read about LexCorp, I would not have made as an effort for the people who made me." She smiles sadly. "I suppose that is why you are a superhero and I just have a costume."

"I'm not really-. Anyone could do that part."

"I think the robots and men with guns would kill most people."

"Yeah, but they-." The front doors open and.. the security chief guy, Otis, walks out. He looks around for a moment, then fixes his eyes on me as he walks over to us. "They wouldn't use the robots if it wasn't me."

"Mitchell Kent?" Otis stops near to us, far enough away that if I lunged at him with normal human speed and strength he could get his arms up to block.

"Ah, yes?"

"I should probably debrief you on what just happened. Come with me-." He hesitates. "Please."

"Okay. Ah-." I look at Johanna "Thanks for-."

"She can come too. This isn't a secret, even from the Justice League. We know who she is."

Johanna shrugs. "It is easy to see things when they are in the open."

"Hah!" To my surprise, that makes him laugh. "I wish that was true."

We follow him back into the building, and Johanna makes a show of looking around. "So this is where you work."

"It's where I'll be interning part-time. Ah." I look at Mr. Beatty. "If that's still happening?"

"Yeah, I checked that with Mister Luthor. We're still extending that offer." He leads us into a waiting room. One of the people in power armour is in there, but they leave when Mr. Beatty nods towards the door and shut it behind them. "Okay." He waves at one sofa and sits down on one of the chairs opposite. I sit down on the sofa he pointed to and-

"Mm."

-Johanna sits.. on my lap. Sideways, legs pointed towards the door and one arm around my back for balance. I guess she was.. serious about the grabbing? Mr. Beatty doesn't react. I guess for all he knows we're actually dating.

"I wanna apologise. I know you know the robot attack was staged. I misunderstood my orders. Wasn't supposed to happen."

"O-kay?"

"Right. This attack wasn't us. Me. As far as we can tell they were completely genuine."

"You know.. you've got a slight credibility problem, there."

Johanna nods. "Yes, it tootally wasn't you this time."

"Setting up a test like that with reliable external operators takes time. I thought the robots would work." He frowns. "Was Eve not attractive enough? I thought she was."

"No-. Ah. But if you know who I am, you know I'm.. three. I get too nervous in social situations to worry about stuff like that."

"Huh. Okay. Why were you hiding something you know that we know?"

"Why were you trying to find out something you already know?"

He gives me a very small shrug. "Because I was following policy."

"Then… The same reason, I guess. We're supposed to keep our secret identities secret."

"Makes sense. Two-. Three more things, then you can go." I nod. "First thing. Any chance that you'd work for LexCorp with your powers?"

"I don't know. Maybe? It depends what you wanted me to do. And I don't think that's covered by an intern's contract."

"Good, it's not. I'll put that on your personnel file and we'll see if anyone needs someone with your abilities. You'll receive a new job specification if anyone bites. Second thing, did you finish your induction before this happened?" I shake my head. "Okay, I'll notify Miss Teschmacher and she'll reschedule. Last thing, was there anyone else here?"

"Yeah, a guy in a costume who called himself Anarky. I think he left after he shut me in the security office. He said he was going to fight the robbers, but… They were all there when I came out."

"I'll need a full description."

"Shouldn't that go to the police? And… Not being as good at being a superhero as you think you are isn't a crime."

"No, but hacking into an A.I.'s brain is. We'll send him to the police once we know what he did to Enginehead."

April 28th, 2013
15:24 EST

"You are aware that this is a crime, aren't you?"

"The legal system is one of many corrupt institutions." I feel worse about the limited means I've given him of observing the world than I do about kidnapping him. But he knew what he was getting into when he chose to keep working for Lex Luthor. "I don't like kidnapping. But I dislike LexCorp more."

"I won't help you, there. I'm under contract."

I nod. I expected as much. Lex Luthor wouldn't build an A.I. that wasn't a toady. "People often think of electronic information as being 'out there' in the aether. They forget that electronic information is really just a series of entirely physical switches. Even a fully intelligent computer like you is far easier to understand than an organic brain."

"Your meaning?"

"My meaning is that I don't need your help. I know how to literally read your mind."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 29th, 2013
06:22 UCT +3

"So, this is Themyscira." Johanna looks around the portal chamber. "It is very… Dark."

I shrug as I lead the way out onto a small courtyard. It's a little out of the way, but it's seen a lot more traffic lately than when it just led to Paula von Gunther's workshop.

"Hail, Prince Mitchell!" / "Hail, Prince Mitchell!"

The two guards on duty come to attention, and give them a nod of acknowledgement.

"We're in the Aegean Sea. Dawn's a few minutes off."

"Taking me to meet your mother already? Someone is confident."

"No, Mom's busy with the Justice League today. I don't exactly know where she is right now. This is where my grandma lives."

We walk down a side street, then turn in the direction of the main road towards the inner city. Usually the only people awake that this time of the morning are the fisherwomen and the guards… And late-night party-goers who've just come back through the portal, but they're trying to be a bit quieter about it these days. Paul said that was because while most people here don't mind contact with the rest of the world, pregnancy is still a contentious issue. Apparently, him letting the Amazons make each other pregnant is a lot different to them suddenly having unrestricted access to men for the first time in three thousand years.

"I… I was.. joking, about..."

She sounds pretty uncomfortable. "I know. I'm socially awkward, not stupid."

"I do not think that you are stupid, Mitchell. But I was being very forward, and you are... You are doing the thing that a responsible, upstanding young man would do."

"Have you dated responsible, upstanding young men before?"

"'Dated'? Match, I live my life in service to People and State. Clearly I have no time for dating and romance!"

"Ah, really?"

"That is what I spent years telling reporters. Honestly, I was…" She shrugs. "There wasn't anyone I could trust enough to be open and honest with. Except perhaps Overman, but he… Eh, no. Too much of a risk. And, too big an age difference, I think."

"I'm three."

"Yes, you're not too old for me."

I.. stop, staring her-. The back of her head, with a frown.

It takes her a moment to realise that I'm not next to her, then she stops and turns around.

We look at each other for a moment.

"That… I meant that as a joke… Are you..? Serious about the three years old thing? Your brother is younger than you, and it has not stopped him and the Martian… Being together."

"Conner and M'gann…" Honestly, that… I mean, Conner's a lot better at social stuff then me, and we are physiologically adolescents. But it's still pretty weird how young he was in terms of experience when M'gann started trying to date him. I guess his mental programming gave him artificial experience? I think he said something about them making him dream of being Superman. "They're not me. And… I understand that you-. Trying to date three year olds is usually really bad and not something you should really joke about. And the way you put it? It sounded… Really self-absorbed."

"It was a joke. I wouldn't try to date you if you were three… Physically. You are too sensitive. Why?"

She's right. It was a joke. It was obviously a joke, and I-. Why? Why? "I-. Because Conner… Got this stuff. Not right away, but-. By now. In less than six months. I've been out of my pod and not.. angry for over a year. And I still can't work out what I'm supposed to.. do or say half the time. And I don't know if it's just-. Coming out stupid. But I'm-. Not as mentally developed as I am physically developed. Okay? I can't-. Cope with some things."

Johanna looks… Serious. She nods. "Okay. I won't.. joke about that. I-."

She sighs, shaking her head. I can't work out why.

"Is there something you want to say?"

"No, I-. I was.. just thinking-." She perks up. "Where is the best place to see dawn?"

"Mount Skybreak, but that's up a mountain-."

"So, like, twelve seconds for me and maybe a minute for you?"

"Last time Paul went there, Zeus threw lightning at him. It's a bit magical. I thought we could watch it from the plaza?"

"That sounds nice."

I.. nod. Awkwardly, because I just made a big fuss about nothing, but I start walking again and she's walking next to me. So I guess that worked out?

"I have had a few flings."

"Huh? Flings?"

"Ah, hook-ups? I avoided anything that could become long term, but… I am not made of stone. Anonymous, mostly. A wig, hair dye." She makes an amused snort. "Pretty blondes are fairly generic, but a woman with short hair stands out where I am from. I don't really know how to have an actual relationship with someone either. Of any sort. I don't really know how to be a daughter. I know that I am testing Mister Garrick's patience, and every time he tries to engage with me on a personal level I just… Go back to the New Statesmen meeting room. Or… Somewhere else."

"Ah. Somewhere bad?"

"I come from Nazi Earth. What do you think?" I suppose. "I know that all of the murder puts all of the other bad things in the shade. But when all of the murder is done, all of the other things are still there."

"Didn't you say that the people who made you got purged?"

"Yes. There is no power on the Earth to rival us, and we still kill people who become too unpopular. I mean, those ones deserved it, but I am sure that some it happens to don't."

"Because of what they did to your sister? Sisters?"

"Hm?" She looks puzzled for a moment. "Oh. Yes. And many other reasons. I think… Overman will not want to.. repeat the purges, but I do not see any other way to change things."

"Why can't he just… Insist that everyone follows the law?"

"Because it is too baked in to our civilisation. It is how everyone behaves-. Everyone with a certain amount of power behaves." She sighs. "He did change things, after they made Angelika, and after the engineered diseases nearly killed all human life. And that was accepted. But he cannot be everywhere. He cannot be in every holding cell and every secret project."

"No, I guess not. So, what do you think is going to happen?"

"War. If someone who was not Overman tried to do what he is doing, they would be killed. But they can not kill him. So some people will say that they agree with him, and they will be killed. But things will already be moving. His followers will kill them, and then… Things will grow."

"Are you sure?"

"I am here, aren't I?"

I nod. "Okay. I don't think I can do anything about that."

"Nor should you. Let them live according to their own beliefs. May the strongest win."

"But I might be able to help you with… Having actual ideals and goals. If… You can help me learning to socialise?"

She glances at me, and her smiles look… Honest?

"Sure. We can try that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Anarkic

1st May 2013
12:46 GMT

The old home town just… Ain't the same,
Like a derelict man who has died out of shame,
A jumble sale left out in the…

No, no. That's not fair at all.

But this whole situation is disappointing. Dolmen Gates are the second biggest improvement I've made to the world. Right after preserving Cadburys' chocolate.

"Heh."

Right after undoing global warming. Useful magical artefacts that can just slot into the world, reducing pollution, getting Atlanteans interacting with the surface, cutting travel times to next to nothing… And the longer it stayed there the more useful it made itself.

And now… Well… The ones we already made are still there, but the one Atlantean who was working with us and was on the surface when the Anti-Life broadcast happened… Didn't.. survive. I haven't checked, but it wouldn't surprise me to learn that magic users were actually more vulnerable than normal people due to their connection to the arcane side of the world.

I'm not sure if Mannheim didn't know about the portals, or didn't care about them, or didn't really have a way to move them, but he didn't do anything about them. Mitchell and Noriel had to stop the Bourneville City Boss doing a sort of evil Willy Wonka re-enactment with Cadbury's World at one point, but… Well, we were moving goods using the Gates before and… Morbid as it is, aside from a few name changes where people died and a few emergency League authority rulings to get land where all the potential owners died back into use, it's… Back into full working order.

I mostly check the value of my theoretical investment in medallions rather than pounds sterling these days…

Who was it-? I honestly don't remember who it was, who looked upon the damage wrought by the Great Fire of London and got excited at the chance to rebuild London as a modern city in its wake. Good for him, I suppose, but I'm just… I'm not annoyed or angry. I'm actually sad that it's all been curtailed like this.

Months since, and I still can't get back to what I was doing.

I suppose that I should check in with everyone.

"Orange Lantern Illustres to Watchtower. Anything you need me doing, or can you just forward me the to-do list?"

"Watchtower responding." Mr. Atom. "Orange Lantern, Batman has expressed a desire to speak to you in person. Go to Mount Justice and I will inform him that you are here."

"Rightoh. Going there now. Orange Lantern out."

I raise my right forefinger to my forehead and

step out, reappearing

next to the bundle of drives that characterise Happy Harbour.

1st May 2013
07:48 GMT -5

It's… Quieter than it used to be. As a rural location, the death toll here wasn't… Too bad. But.. more than the death, people are just more sombre than they used to be. I suppose that after the Sheeda it was possible to believe that things would just go back to normal eventually. At least, if you weren't in one of the areas that was directly attacked. But everyone got exposed to the Anti-Life. Sections of the woodlands near the town have been cut down to make allotments-. A community farm, because while food supplies here weren't disrupted much, everyone living here thinks they could get disrupted badly if anything like that happens again.

And with the economy the way it is, having a cheaper hobby like growing your own food has a definite appeal.

I drift towards the mountain, taking in Euanthe's grove on the top. Still there, if not flourishing quite as much as it was with a dryad's constant attention. And no soon-to-be druid lying next to a tree blissed out on green magic rich fruit this time, which is probably good.

Hm.

I don my light power armour and dive into the water off the coast, powering through the water and entering the underwater tunnel into the lower level. I send my authentication signal to the force field system to actually enter the Mountain proper. This system is an upgraded version of a modification I made to the system after those Saremites got in and we got a definitive answer to the 'do they actually know we're here' question.

Gone are the happy days when I could just swim in.

I come out in the hangar, and… Ah, no bioship. It's a school day, so… I guess Martian Manhunter is using it? Or there's been an emergency of some kind. Not really a huge issue. Anyone-

Lantern Ghia'ta flies into the hangar, Lantern Rrab just behind her.

-could be.. using it. I send my armour back into subspace.

"Good morning."

Ghia'ta smiles. "Good morning!"

Lantern Rrab just nods a little cautiously. "Illustres."

"Apparently Batman wants to talk to me. Any idea what that's about?"

Ghia'ta shakes her head as I land on the shore. "No. Perhaps he wishes to coordinate a wide scale operation with you?"

"I suppose. What are you up to today?"

"I am volunteering at an orphanage."

I.. nod. That's something she's been doing during her enforced downtime. Children generally flexed rather than being broken under the Anti-Life, but that meant that there are a lot more children without a next of kin to take them on. I turn to Lantern Rrab, eyebrows raised.

"Um. Could you..? Tell me how the war against the Reach is going?"

I shrug, and flick a data packet from my ring to hers.

"The most recent fight involved me rescuing the last surviving members of an unusually intelligent species before the Reach could scoop out their brains to use as computers. We're winning, as much as space captured since the beginning of the war is any guide to go by. But we always knew that the Reach are defence in depth types, so…"

I shrug, and she nods.

"Interested in getting involved?" I pull my ring off my right hand and wiggle it at her. "One of my students recently gained enlightenment, so I've got some spare time?"

"Um." To her credit, she doesn't recoil much. "No. Thank you. I've got… A lot to learn before I try fighting the Reach."

"Good attitude, though I think it makes you the only member of this team who thinks that. What are you doing today?"

"Hal is showing me more advanced techniques!" She smiles as she-. Oh dear. Note to self, have a word with Lantern Jordan about-.

I consider Zatanna.

About talking to someone else about how to gently let someone know that you're not interested. Actually, Batman is probably a good person to go to with that.

I nod again. "Chihuahuan Desert?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Lantern Gardner and I started using it, then it expanded to all the Lanterns on Earth. I should probably try and get us all together at some point. Well, you have fun with that. I've got some mission reports to read."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
13:54 GMT +1

Oh.

I feel myself stiffen, and my left hand stops tracing idle circles around Luna's shoulder as she rests atop me.

Oh dear. That's a-

She shifts slightly, her eyes opening tiredly.

-problem.

"And what troubles you this night, beloved? What stirs your thoughts?"

"Celestia."

Her eyes open, then narrow.

"Thou hast best not be thinking of Our Sister in relation to recent events."

I frown in puzzlement. "Of course not: I wasn't flaccid."

Luna stares at me for a moment, sort of exhales-with-a-side-order-of-splutter, then lets her head thump against my chest. And I.. get it. In theory, she'd rather that Celestia and I got on. We're the two most important people in her life, after all. But the younger and less popular sister isn't entirely immune to the idea that perhaps someone involved with her might still prefer to be with Celestia if that was an option, and the fact that I very clearly wouldn't is something she doesn't like that she likes.

"You know… You know I don't like a lot of the way she runs the country, right?"

"Mmuphgm."

"So I just assumed that she wasn't very good at it. But that for various cultural reasons and the obvious practical issue of how the heck you force someone like that out of office, she stayed in post. But…"

I'm a little annoyed it took me this long to put it together.

"I think of Artemis as a New God. And mystically speaking she is. But… When we came back from the Land of Summer's End, I-. I remembered everything. Who everyone was. Where I left the remote control for the television in my living room. She didn't. She couldn't even remember the names of her team mates."

Luna's head comes up a little, a puzzled frown on her forehead. "She is younger than you, is she not? By no small amount."

"Right. But that would help her. Those were the first people who trusted her to fight with them, even knowing the truth of her background. That should have been a formative memory for her. A core part of her godly identity, something that she'd never forget. For me, I'd had other friends and allies. It should have been the other way around, if anything."

"Then why was it not?"

"I don't know for certain. But I wonder… She might be like me mystically, but I am a different species physically. The people of Apokolips have always been long lived. Even the ones who don't get a powerful god-name… Lowlies can live a long time, they just usually don't due to the physical reality of their living conditions."

"You think that your people are naturally able to manage lengthy memories."

"Yeah. I can call to mind any part of my life since I used Father Box to change myself. Not every little detail, but people I interacted with regularly, places I've spent more than a few minutes… And the memories I absorbed from Other Grayven are much the same. I can… Think back, and remember the gordanians who worked on the Absolute Dominion. Their names, which parts they worked on… Like a tree opening out as I focus on a particular thing. Artemis is stuck using a human brain and it sort of works, but things outside of her domain don't appear to stick in the same way."

"What doth that have to do with Our Sister?"

"Ponies usually live about as long as humans, right?"

"Some live longer; Our research has shown that Earth Ponies who study the magics of their tribe can reach the end of their second century."

"But that's something they have to focus on. What we might call the… Biological norm for ponies is eighty years and change. So the pony brain is adapted to that sort of lifespan. But Celestia is over a thousand."

"And..? You think that she may be having..? Problems?"

"It occurred to me that it's possible. It would explain… Some things. I mean, I called her 'calcified' as an insult, but what if it's… Literally true?"

She frowns thoughtfully. "We doubt that. When we have spoken to Our Sister of Our foremost memories, she hath responded unhesitantly. Mayhap you worry for nought?"

"I hope so." I sigh. "But I'd like to give her a scan, just in case. Ask her about things. Is there actually a royal doctor?"

"The palace has physicians, but there is a dearth of millennial alicorns to whom Our Sister could be compared." She sighs, resting her forearms on my chest to prop herself up. "What remedy wouldst you suggest?"

"I'm not sure. There's an… Implant, I've seen a few people use. A quantum wafer implanted in their brains. They use it to store information, basically any amount. That would… Deal with pure data storage issues, but it wouldn't… Help, with integrating new experiences into her character." Hm. "How about Evil Egyptian you and her? They're both a thousand years old, aren't they? And their Sombra, he's about that age too."

"We are… We suppose that there wouldst have been no cause to banish Our Other Self. In truth, We had seen no reason to converse with her since we aided Our Sister's beau, but… We suppose that it may be wise. And a conversation is several degrees less extreme than inserting material into Our brains. Have you suggested that to Artemis?"

"No. Wouldn't work. She heals like I do. Any cybernetic not made from New God technology would get subsumed, and… As I said, we don't need memory augmentations."

"What other choices wouldst we have?"

"Some sort of… Magic technique for expanding your memories into your metaphysique. It would probably require you to improve your command of Earth Pony magic-."

"I?"

"Luna, my love, I will live for a very long time and I wish for you to be there for all of it. This… I could be worrying about nothing, but if it is an issue, then it will become an issue for you eventually."

"And a pinch of prevention is worth a pound of cure. We understand."

"Although… It might not be Earth Pony magic. It might be actual alicorn magic, given how the data would have to encode."

"We have learned few magics which require the power of all three tribes. T'would be interesting to learn one anew."

"I'll… Bring it up with Sunset. She hasn't really studied me in any detail since her ascension. She might be able to find something new."

"And what do you intend to do if it turns out that Our Sister's failings are simply a part of Her character?"

"Record my lessons with Twilight and send them to her for her to review." … "On an unrelated subject, what are Equestria's laws on narcotics?"

"The refined forms of witchweed have long been proscribed, but what hath-?" Her somewhat sleepy brain catches up with her somewhat sleepy mouth. Then her right fist raps me on the nose. "No. You will not drug Our Sister, no matter how funny it might be."

"Understoo-." She raps me again. "Hey!"

"Or by your tongue encourage others to do so on your behalf."

"I won't, I won't. I promise. No mind-altering chemicals without her consent."

"See that you do not." She lowers her fist, looking thoughtful. "It is well that you raised this concern, and pleasing that you at least care enough for Our Sister to want to aid her."

"I always try to improve systems of government. I can't not. You know that. I don't have to like Celestia to want her to be the best she can be."

"In a way, We hope that you are correct in your concerns. It would be well if she could rise to your expectations. Now lie still; We are tired and desire a silent mattress."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
08:12 GMT -5

"…you knew him, but I couldn't remember exactly what you said."

Mitchell looks at me hopefully as my stomach sinks. Of all the things I'd hoped to avoid… Honestly, Lonnie Machin putting on motley doesn't actually rate that highly. But I've already got one Nylor Truggs to deal with and I really don't want a second one.

"One moment."

Scan for-. No. Scan for his parents-.

"Oh dear."

"You can't find him?"

"No-. I mean, you're right, I can't find him, but I was expecting that. The problem is that his parents are missing, presumed dead. And with child services as overstretched as they are, it's not exactly surprising that he slipped through the cracks."

Mitchell frowns, concerned about something. "How old is he?"

"Nine."

"Oh."

"Ah." Johanna stares at him pointedly. "Your first supervillain is nearly your age."

Mitchell squirms slightly. "I.. thought his bones look a bit… Thin. I didn't realise he was that young. His voice was a lot deeper."

Not hard for a person of reasonable intelligence to put a voice changer in a mask. "And I'm going to guess that he wore a golden face mask and hat on top of his head so that he looked taller."

Mitchell shrugs. "Sure, but I could see through it, so I knew it wasn't part of him."

"Did you mention that to him?"

"No. I-I thought it was a secret identity thing."

Johanna frowns. "Is this boy dangerous, or can I just put him over my knee?"

"And thus we see the violence inherent in the system."

Johanna shrugs. "It's a job."

"He… Probably isn't physically dangerous, and if… The versions of him I saw in the parallel universes I visited are close matches, then 'putting him over your knee' will just confirm to him that his beliefs are correct. He's… I wasn't expecting him to become active for several years, but I suppose that the Earth's been through the wringer lately."

Johanna looks puzzled. "Why are you talking about a nine year old boy as if he is important?"

"Three groups went into the LexCorp building: one with stealth and a plan, one with guns and the last was a nine year old boy with a spray-painted Guy Fawkes costume. Which one of those is still at large?"

"The one who took off his costume and walked away?"

Hm. Quick check… LexCorps servers might be warded but police servers usually aren't…

"Not according to the external security cameras."

"Those always have blind spots."

"Y-es, but this is LexCorp. One of their important buildings. I'm not saying that a sufficiently skilled person couldn't get out, but it wouldn't be easy, they'd have to know the actual plans beforehand and they'd have to be the most athletic nine year old ever."

Johanna thinks for a moment. "Superpowers?"

"He didn't have any I could detect last time I checked."

"And when was that?"

"About eight months ago. Before the Anti-Life. So plenty of time for him to manifest something or get exposed to something."

Mitchell raises his eyebrows. "Is that what happened to the parallel universe version you met?"

"I didn't meet him, I just got access to the files of a parallel universe version of the Justice League. When he was thirteen he started attacking white collar criminals and sabotaged a construction site where the owner was building an office complex rather than the low cost housing Gotham actually needed."

Mitchell nods, as if something suddenly makes sense. "Gotham."

"And after he got out of the young offender's institution, he built a machine to enhance his intelligence, a boom tube generator and a telepathic broadcast machine that compelled people to be open and honest with one another."

Johanna looks genuinely disturbed by the last one. "And… What was he doing when he was nine?"

"Not a lot. Former classmates said that he could be a bit intense, but I suspect that they were reinterpreting their memories in light of what he did later."

Mitchell frowns. "I thought only New Gods could use boom tubes?"

"No, it's just a device. Their boom tube generators are probably designed to interface with their technology and magic, but there's nothing inherently special about boom tubes. Clarissi Dox was able to make one with his power ring."

Johanna looks at Mitchell. "Did you hear the big bang?"

"No, but… I wasn't listening for it. You get.. bangs in a city." He looks at me with a thoughtful frown. "What does he want?"

"Last time I looked at him, his drives weren't any different from any other socially conscious and unusually intelligent child his age. Based on the character of his alter-egos and his nom de guerre, he wants a state of anarchy: a political situation without leaders."

Johanna frowns. "How does that work?"

"It doesn't."

"Oh. I was expecting something more… Profound."

"It kind of works in a small village or a project with a handful of people where everyone knows each other, but with anything larger or in a situation which needs quick decisions it completely breaks down." I shrug. "An unusually intelligent nine year old is still nine years old. He's never had to work with a group where lives were on the line. Not that the world's leaders have exactly covered themselves in glory recently."

Mitchell nods. "How do you think we should handle him?"

"Take no action until we bump into him, and then try and talk about his situation and help him reason things through. If he's going after LexCorp then I think half the problem is that he hasn't had anyone to talk things through with. Um." I consider him for a moment. "I thought you were taking a step back from costumed adventuring now that the immediate problems were dealt with?"

"I'd.. like to, but I… I think I'm already involved with this one. I've got school today, but-."

"Recognised, Batman, zero two."

We all turn to the zeta tube, Johanna coming to something like attention-.

He's still wearing the ring, I note, his eyes glowing a faint yellow.

"Orange Lantern. Anarky took something from LexCorp. Find out what happened. Find him, and get him into custody before Luthor decides to have him killed."

I nod. "I'll get on that right away, sir."

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th January 2000
15:33 GMT -5

"Ma'man!" Colonel O'Neill smiles as he greets me and waves at the STG guards to lower their weapons. "How yah been?"

Heset stares around at the gate room in puzzlement, but I can't help but laugh.

"Hahahaa!"

O'Neill frowns and looks at Major Carter. "I didn't think it was that funny. Was it?"

She shakes her head awkwardly. "No, sir."

"No." I shake my head. "Your robot twin brother from Altair calls me the same thing. It amuses me how similar you are."

That makes him look more serious. "They were supposed to bury that gate."

"Heehaha!" I gesture to him with both hands. "Would you?" Carter raises her eyebrows at him, and he looks mildly disgruntled for a moment before shrugging. "But don't worry, thanks to me Altairan civilisation is up and running again including their military, and since everyone else thinks it's still a dead world it's unlikely that anyone is going to go looking there."

"And… You did that… Why?"

"Because they have stuff I want and I can't trade with them if they're all dead." I look around as the security personnel return to their normal stations. "So do you actually have Tok'Ra here, or..? Are they coming in next?"

O'Neill shrugs, steps back and gestures to the exit. "I'm sure you know the way by now. Are you gunna introduce your friend?"

I head for the door at strolling pace, noting the guards ahead and those falling in behind. "This is Damla, the host of Lady Heset. She's a Tok'Ra agent."

Carter gives her a surprised look. "Are you trying to arrange a prisoner exchange?"

"Ah, do the Tok'Ra take prisoners?" I shrug. "If they've got one of System Lord Bastet's Underlords then I'll consider it, but that's not why I'm here."

"So why are you here?"

"I wish to wrap them in cotton wool so they don't hurt themselves running with scissors."

Carter frowns, and looks to Damla for an explanation.

Damla moues with distaste. "Mammon has a rather low opinion of the Tok'Ra. He refuses to speak with Heset, and insists that I control our body."

"Your body." / "It's your…"

O'Neill grimaces as he realises that we said the same thing.

"…body."

I scan the area around us. "No Doctor Jackson?"

Carter shakes her head. "He and Sha're are taking a break from Stargate Command."

I nod. "Probably sensible, given everything she's gone through. The culture shock involved in living somewhere like this would be considerable for her. I… Doubt that they'd be interested, but please pass on an offer from me for them to visit Syrania. It's a little closer to what she's used.. to-." I frown. "Unless she's kept Amaunet's memories, in which case she's probably your leading expert on goa'uld technology and has enough experience of other cultures to fit in here almost effortlessly."

Carter and O'Neill both look slightly awkward for an instant.

Well, good for her.

One of the guards outside the meeting open the door and I stroll in, a short bald man in Tok'Ra gear seated at General Hammond's right hand. They both stand to greet me, Hammond indicating the man with his right hand. "Lord Mammon, this is.. Selmak, of the Tok'Ra."

The man nods in cautious greeting as I scan him. "I don't think-."

I take the opposite position to him at the table and offer him my right hand. He hesitates for a moment, clearly nonplussed, then takes it.

"Please to meet you, General Carter. I do hope that I'll mostly be talking to you."

His eyes shine for a moment as he recovers his hand. "Are you still sore about our last encounter?"

"No." I shake my head. "I honestly don't remember it. Now please go back inside, I want to talk to someone who isn't a moron."

Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill takes seats next to him, and Damla-.

I stare at her like she's an idiot, then make a shooing gesture with both hands. "You're a Tok'Ra. Sit over there with them."

General Carter and Damla share a quick look, then she complies with my instruction and takes the last seat on the far side of the table.

I smile broadly. "Now, the reason why I wanted to talk to you is that without Egeria to make more Tok'Ra, you're heading towards extinction. And that's fine, except that I don't get anything out of it first. So I had an idea: why don't I help you do what you should have done when Egeria started her rebellion, which you're all to stupid to do for yourselves?"

He regards me levelly. "And what would that be?"

I turn my head to the left. "Colonel O'Neil, you're a man of average intelligence. If you were in charge of a small group of highly intelligent and long-lived aliens, and you wanted to destroy the galaxy-spanning empire ruled by other members of their species where they kept its human residents in a state of technological primitivism in order to lord it over them as gods, how would you do it?"

He goes to answer, glances at General Hammond, then actually pauses to think it through. "I'd train up some soldiers and use them to acquire goold technology. Then I'd teach some humans how to use it. A few hundred engineers and scientists who understand what they're working on would give you a bigger R&D base then most System Lords. And since goold hate each other, they won't cooperate, share information, or check that the people attacking them are actually who they're pretending to be. I'd create a civil war while my people kept on getting stronger."

I grandly gesture at Colonel O'Neill with my left hand while staring wide-eyed at General Carter and, I hope, Selmak.

"Also, it's slightly above average, actually."

General Carter shakes his head. "We wouldn't have been able to get far enough away from goa'uld space to make that work."

"I'm doing it now. With System Lord Bastet's full knowledge and assent."

His eyebrows rise slightly, and he looks to General Hammond for confirmation. He gets a small nod.

"Why?"

"Because my ego isn't quite so fragile as some other goa'uld. Because humans learn too slowly and live too briefly to reach our level even if they are educated. Because Ra is dead and we don't need to follow his rules any longer. Because educated workers can do more than uneducated workers. Because it materially improves their quality of life and I do actually like my people doing better because of something that I did."

"I believe everything you said except that."

"It's a pride thing, not empathy. I did that. I saw that this was sensible, where no other goa'uld did."

"Alright. Let's say I believe you. What do you want from us?"

"Given that your campaign of spying and sabotage has achieved nothing and the goa'uld grip upon this galaxy is as strong as it ever was, I want all of you to come and work for me as teachers. Train my human citizens in the sciences. I've already got primary school teachers and now I need something more sophisticated. In return, I will ensure that the system of education we develop becomes to model for all of System Lord Bastet's domains."

"Why would I want to make Bastet stronger?"

"Because you're either doing this because Egeria hated Ra and programmed you to share that hatred, or you're doing it because you think goa'uld are bad rulers. I am offering to put you in a position where you can force me to become a good ruler by empowering my people, making them independent of me." I shrug. "Of course, if Selmak is just Egeria's meat robot attack dog then there's nothing to talk about."

He regards me for a moment, then turns to General Hammond. "George, is this guy for real?"

"As far as we can tell?" He nods. "Yes. He is."

"Then in that case… I think I'm going to have to see it for myself."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
08:47 GMT -5

"Ah, hey, Joannah."

Alan looks a little torn by the sight of Johanna. Obviously, he is aware of Jay Garrick's inability to sire a child and in other circumstances would be quite happy for him. On the other hand…

At least her costume doesn't actually have a swastika on it. I wonder how she wrangled that?

"Hallo, Blue Lantern. Are you leading this investigation? I assumed that Orange Lantern would be enough."

"No, no, I'm just.. here to smooth things over with the N.Y.P.D.. Paul can be a little…" He glances at me for a moment. "Well, they don't know him."

I snort as we walk into the police station where the fake delivery people are being held pending the completion of the investigation. Nothing about them really requires Justice League involvement: armed robberies are something we stop if we're there, but usually not something we investigate unless there's something exotic involved. Even the better equipped roof team aren't something we'd involve ourselves in unless it was an unusually slow month. We all know that the Justifiers' gear didn't just disappear when the Anti-Life infection was expunged, and plasma guns aren't that rare.

And maybe, objectively, LexCorp being involved doesn't really require us to get involved. But the thing is… We're not stupid. The world is just about stable enough that Lex could start his shenanigans again. Particularly if he thinks that someone's pulling something over on him and has that added motivating spite.

My mentioning the League taking over the world probably didn't help in that regard, even if it's objectively true-.

Ah. Would that-? Would he-?

Hm.

"Good morning, Sergeant."

"Good morning, Blue Lantern." The sergeant takes in the three of us and starts to look a little nervous. "Do we need to call in re-enforcements?"

"Oh, I shouldn't think so. It looks like these fellahs just got caught up in something a little bigger than they are. Do you mind if we talk to 'em?"

"Ah, they've actually done the smart thing of calling their lawyer and shutting up. You can talk to them, but I doubt they'll volunteer anything and anything they do say won't be admissible."

"We're not actually investigating them, so that last part shouldn't matter. And I'm not Batman. If they don't wanna talk, then they don't talk."

Alan shrugs, and I take a moment to smile and wave at the rubberneckers, causing them to turn away awkwardly and get on with their actual jobs.

"Alright, you've got the clearance." The sergeant walks out from behind the front desk and begins leading the way into the rear of the station. "Advantage of taking over the world, I guess."

"That's, ah… Not.. something we're actually doing."

He sniffs in amusement. "Orange Lantern seemed pretty sure."

Alan gives me a sidelong look for a moment. "Orange Lantern occasionally has a… A slightly screwy way of looking at things. I couldn't run the world even if I wanted to. Heck, he once met a parallel universe version of me who gave up when he couldn't even manage to run one city."

"Yeah?" The sergeant glances back at me as he opens up an interview room. "That so?"

"I'm not allowed to talk about the Justice League taking over the world."

Johanna waits until we're inside and the door is closed behind us before giving me a frown. And then giving Alan a frown. "Taking over the world? I understood that was not happening."

Alan makes a frustrated sigh and then gives me an equally frustrated glare. "That's because it isn't."

"They're going to give it back just as soon as it's in one piece again. Ever seen a really big building get demolished?"

She nods. "Yes?"

"Ever seen anyone stick it back together again with superglue?"

"No. Ah. Perhaps I should visit Angelika?"

"Why?"

"I do not want to take over a world. I was too close with the New Statesmen already."

"But if.. Overman overturns your Earth's order, you'll be even more politically significant." I shrug as she looks uncomfortable. "If you want to retire there are hundreds of safeish humanoid-inhabited planets where you could do it. I'd be happy to drop you off on one."

"Unt how would I get back?"

I blink. "Why would you want to?"

Footsteps outside, and we arrange ourselves around the interrogation table. Alan takes the seat, Johanna stands at his shoulder with her arms crossed and I lurk in the background as our man is escorted in.

"…don't even know why-" He turns away from the sergeant to at us. "-you o-ooooh."

Alan smiles warmly. "Hi there."

The suspect raises his hands. "Swear to God, I did not know he was Wonder Woman's son."

"Yeah." Alan nods as the sergeant puts the fake courier in the seat opposite him and then stands back. "That would have been stupid, but Diana wouldn't send me here about that. Funnily enough, we're not exactly here about what you did, either."

"So what you're saying is, I don't need a lawyer. I…" He nods. "I heard that one before."

"Listen, son. I don't care much about a break-in at some LexCorp office. Mitchell was fine, and you didn't actually manage to take anything. What we're worried about is what one of the other people took."

"What, those fucks with the plasma guns? I don't know anything about what they took. I don't have any idea who they are or who sent them."

"No, not them either. See, there was another guy in the building. A kid who's about to get way in over his head. And I'd like to find him before that can happen."

The man shakes his head, shrugging. "I don't know anything about a kid. All I saw was Wonder Woman's kid, that girl, and the guys in the black armour."

I'm not a lie detector, but taking a look into his soul… He wants to get out, to get back to a familiar environment where he feels safe and can maybe find out what went wrong because… Because he's worried that he was set up... By…

Ugh. You'd think I'd see a face or something but this sort of thing isn't handled directly by the involved party unless they're already looking at a life sentence. It's obviously not Stagg, if only because he's not this brazen. Not against Lex Luthor. Edwin Alva would be my first guess, but it's not as if LexCorp has a shortage of people that would love to take a swing at it.

If they had a patsy. Preferably, one with a record of working for someone else.

"The orders you received relating to LexCorp. Did-?"

"What order?"

"Yes, yes. The orders you received. Did anything about the tone seem off to you? The.. wording, or the grammar? I'm just wondering… If it actually came from where you think it came from."

Ah. There we go.

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
08:52 GMT -5

His face hardens, and he leans back a little in his chair, not focusing on us. Considering his options, I imagine.

Alan turns towards me, raising his eyebrows. "Orange Lantern?"

"A group of professional thieves working for someone wouldn't have direct contact. If they'd demonstrated that they were competent and knew how to keep their mouths shut, there would be at least one degree of separation between the person directing them and the team. There can't be direct communication because the big boss needs to be insulated, but there can't be too many gaps because the more people know the higher the chance of miscommunication or leaks. I'd imagine that our friend here has only met the person who gives him orders… Once? Maybe not even that. There's a protocol for communication, but the thing is, any protocol that doesn't involve direct meetings can be learned by a sufficiently clever observer."

He doesn't look worried, but he is making a point of controlling his expressions rather more tightly.

"Let us assume that the lawyer you contacted is… Probably burnable. Just there to handle the initial stuff, while your director tries to decide how much it's worth helping you. Now, if he thinks that you're moonlighting, things are about to get jolly interesting, because once you get released on bail he's going to want a rather sharp talk with you. Now, given the current environment I doubt that whoever it is would have you killed to ensure your silence or anything like that, but they might actually let you go to prison without a fight as a reminder to check who it is that's sending you messages a bit more carefully."

I shrug, smiling.

"I suppose we'll get some inkling based on how quickly the lawyer turns up. How long has it been?"

Johanna shrugs. "Just a few hours, yes? It was a Sunday, and it was unexpected. People are busy. It is not something to worry about. Unt the police must schedule things after completing their forensic examinations or how would they know what to ask you? Hm."

He blinks, slowly. "Are you making an offer, or are you just blowing smoke up my ass?"

"We have no authority to make an offer. Though I.. suppose, that if you had been induced to burgle LexCorp under false pretences, that might work in your favour. If only to reassure your ultimate employer that you were loyal to them. At least to the degree that you don't go spilling your guts when anyone applies any pressure."

"You think talking to you would convince someone that I don't talk."

"I'm not asking you who your regular sponsor is. I'm not much interested in them. I'm interested in someone who might have used you as a distraction by pretending to be them, and if that did happen, then you'd be off the hook with your employer. Plus, since you've asked for a lawyer, nothing you say here is admissible as evidence."

He smiles. "Law-yer."

I shrug. "As you will. I respect your good judgement. But I wonder… If someone did use you as a distraction… How much do they respect you?"

I smile at Alan and Johanna.

"I don't believe our friend is interested in talking to us. Shall we try the others?"

1st May 2013
08:56 GMT -5

"Lawyer."

Alan frowns. "If-."

"Lawyer." The interviewee takes a sip of water from their glass. "Lawyer now?"

1st May 2013
09:03 GMT -5

"…really great cake." I wince. "I just watched the whole thing. Snack and a show. Thought about keeping it but…" He shrugs. "I could not find out how it tasted, could I?"

Johanna is openly staring at me. I ignore her, maintaining my smile and clicking the fingers of my right hand together. A piece of paper with a rationalisation of the recipe appears and floats over to him.

"Here. Share it with your friends."

He takes it with a smile. "Will do. Also, lawyer."

1st May 2013
09:10 GMT -5

"Hey babe." Our guest leers at Johanna. "You seein' anybody?"

Johanna's eyes narrow-. I step in between them, leering back.

"Hey yourself, big boy. I am, but what she doesn't know doesn't hurt her, r-?"

"Lawyer."

1st May 2013
09:12 GMT -5

"Just to be clear, I wouldn't cheat on Jade for information."

"But I suppose that his criminal record wouldn't be a problem." Alan doesn't look impressed. "What was your plan if he was okay with it?"

"I can see people's emotions. It wasn't an issue."

"Paul, sometimes, things happen in prison-."

"Yes. To him. As a result he finds the idea viscerally disgusting. Also, once we're done here I need to see whether or not it's possible to convict his attacker." I sigh. "Probably
won't be, but I want to try."

The door opens again, and the sergeant brings in a member of the roof team-

"Whaw!"

-who smiles broadly when he sees us. No identifying documents on him, and fingerprints and facial recognition scans didn't reveal his identity. We only know that his name is 'Chris' because one of the others calls him that.

"Are you finally going after LexCorp?!"

"Not… Right now, not without evidence of an immediate threat or of significant wrongdoing. Do you have any such evidence?"

"No." He shakes his head as he takes his seat. "They stopped us too quick. But you can get it! The link to their main computer is right there!"

Somehow I don't think convicting this one will be all that difficult.

Alan smiles kindly. "Now why do you think we need to do that, son? What do you think they've been up to?"

I mentally add 'recently'.

"Tons of stuff! The stuff at Cadmus, the alien in South America, and Lex Luthor totally vanished while the Anti-Life was happening!"

"Well… Okay, but none of that's a smoking gun. Plenty of people went into hiding when the Anti-Life was being broadcast."

"But where! Where did he go? And why…"

I tune him out as I try to study his emotional network-. And get rebuffed. Hm. He doesn't act like a hardened operative, and can't be out of his early twenties. Curious. His records-.

Don't… Exist. Even the custody log appears to have suffered an accident. Either someone is actively sabotaging an awful lot of places, or-.

Someone's using John's history erasure ritual. And while we can't track the records, we should be able to track the magic.

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th January 2000
03:12 GMT

"Dad!" General Carter looks nonplussed as the Samantha Carter gynoid runs over to give him a hug.

"Sam? I.. thought you were-?" He glances back at Major Carter, who awkwardly raises her right hand to wave at the both. "Ah…"

"She's-." / "I'm-."

The Samanthas look at each other, tiny twitches and changes of expression serving to communicate their intent to one another. Then:

"She's an android." / "I'm a gynoid."

The gynoid frowns at her original, breaking away from their father and gesturing to her obviously feminine body with both hands.

Major Carter considers, then shrugs awkwardly. "Ah, she's a gynoid. With a copy of my memories and personality. Effectively, she's.. another me up to about two years ago."

"Oh." General Carter nods. "Then I guess it's good to see you Sam-. Ah… What do I call you, exactly?"

The gynoid appears to have no real idea. "… Samantha..?"

Major Carter looks away, while I grin. "Should have given them a middle name. It worked for Riker."

Major Carter gives her alter-ego another look. "I guess you solved the power supply problem."

"It wasn't that hard. Alt-."

I put my right fist in front of my mouth and cough emphatically.

"Hmuhr!"

"Altair had the technology. Harlan just didn't know how to use-"

"Uhhhhrhrhrhrhrhrhr!"

"-it." We watch each other for a moment. "Though, yes, the raw materials and the initial design came from Lord Mammon."

My cough vanishes, and I smile warmly. "You're welcome."

Major Carter nods. "Are the others here?"

"Jack and Teal'c are. Daniel's off with a trade caravan visiting the worlds of Bastet's other Underlords."

O'Neill stops scanning his surroundings and looks at me. "And if I were… Looking for…" He shakes his head and shrugs. "Me..?"

"Last time I saw him he was watching recordings of old wars System Lord Bastet's Jaffa waged. Like watching the Three Stooges, apparently."

General Carter frowns. "If you don't have problems with your..? Power supply? Why not just come back to Earth?"

"Ah…" The gynoid looks away awkwardly. "I'm not a member of the U.S. Air Force. I'm not even a U.S. citizen, really. I remember being… Her-" She indicates Major Carter. "-but I started life in a laboratory on Altair. And even if I did go back to Earth, I'd have to wait fourteen years before I could join up again."

Colonel O'Neill looks curious. "So you're.. not an Air Force Major?"

"No, S-. … J-. … Colonel."

"Which means that the other me… Isn't a Colonel."

"That's… True." She nods.

"Huh." He turns to me. "Which way to your T.V. room?"

I raise my right hand and click my fingers, prompting a member of my staff to hurry over. "Please escort Colonel O'Neill to his twin."

"Yes, Lord Mammon."

Colonel O'Neill favours me with a very small smile as he follows his guide.

Major Carter watches him go thoughtfully. "What rank did you give the Colonel's android when he started working for you?"

I smile. "General."

"And… Samantha?"

Gynoid-Sam looks slightly awkward. "He offered me unlimited resources to redesign goa'uld starships."

"Redesign-?" General Carter stares at her. "You're making gou'ald starships better?"

"Well, at the moment, we're just working on trade and exploration ships."

"Why?"

I smile. "The democratisation of violence. And mobility. The more humans in Bastet's domain are used to flying starships, the better placed they are to simply leave if they don't like how they're treated. The more exposure to other domains they have, the better they can judge which they prefer. The more economic power they have, the more their feelings on the matter have weight."

I hold out my left hand and create a construct of Ra's old ship.

"Ra used to use an all-human crew, did you know that? Not a single Jaffa on the ship. Would you like to guess the level of authority humans had in his domain versus the domain of every other System Lord?" I dismiss the image. "Giving humans in goa'uld space a role outside of manual labour will do far more to improve their lives than anything that either of your organisations has managed."

General Carter fixes his robotic daughter with a glare. "So you're not designing warships."

"No… Not.. yet." He glares harder. "Daniel's visiting each of Bastet's planets so we can confirm how their civilization works. Frankly, if Lord Mammon's been telling the truth-"

"I mostly have."

"-then making it easier for Bastet to conquer other goa'uld… Will do more good that refusing to help her."

I sidle closer and gently elbow him in the side.

"Of course, if you want to keep an eye on things, you can just move here."

He glances at me, then returns his attention to Samantha. "You know goa'uld go mad, right?"

"Nah." I shake my head. "I fixed that. Undid the sarcophagus-induced damage to the brain of every goa'uld in Bastet's and Kali's domain. No more paranoia."

He looks at me sceptically. "What about the megalomania?"

"Ah. Turns out?" I do a slight face-wince. "That was.. mostly learned. But you can get quite a long way by appealing to their pride and ego. And besides, you're working with the tau'ri, aren't you?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Well… Obviously, you have to prioritise your own world. It would be ridiculous for me to expect you to just… Let Ra nuke America. But killing him triggered a series of wars whose casualties outstrip the greatest war in Earth's history by a factor of about a thousand, and virtually all of them are human. The galaxy is literally the most lethal it's been since Ra led the coalition against Sokar, and it shows no signs of slowing down..." Major Carter looks awkward. "What?"

"Sokar's dead."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer man. Who do I send the gift basket to?"

"Aldwin. He's a Tok'Ra agent."

"Small gift basket, then."

"Y-es. The problem is that Apophis captured his domains, including his fleet and main industrial centres."

Oh. I haven't seen Sokar's territory myself, but I do have access to Bastet's most recent intelligence. By goa'uld standards…

"How.. big..? An industrial centre did he have?"

"Basically, the whole of planet Delmak is a factory, with several shipyards in planetary orbit. Although I think they might be manufacturing parts on the planet and assembling them in space."

I gulp. "Which… Means that he's actually in a position to win. To defeat Heru'ur and.. anyone else. That's… Something that I'm going to need to take to Bastet."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
09:49 GMT -5

Ambrose nods at me as I come in to land. His hair's mostly grown back now after he… Got Anti-Lifed and drafted into a slave gang. At the moment he looks almost respectable. Alan and Johanna can carry on interviewing suspects without me, but I need my go-to street magician to try to track down whoever performed that ritual.

"I thought life was getting safe and predictable. What is it?"

"Do you know that ritual John Constantine uses to erase records relating to him?"

He considers things for a moment. "There's a couple of spells that can do that. I don't know exactly what he uses." He frowns. "Not sure if electronic records would be easier than paper records…"

"We've lost both. Can you detect where the spell was used if you have access to the person whose records were erased?"

"Yeah, probably. I'm fine, thanks for asking."

I frown. "I know you're fine, I checked-. Oh. Ah. Right. How are you doing?"

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I think we got that bit the wrong way around."

"Right, it's just-. After we got rid of the Anti-Life, I checked everyone on my 'friends and acquaintances' list. I knew you were basically alright and then got back to work. If you'd actually needed anything I'd have dealt with it, but given how busy I was…"

"Nice to know I'm on there somewhere." He watches me, and…

Have I forgotten something? Well, not forgotten, but-. The damned. The last time I checked on them was when I brought Demon Supergirl to Themyscira.

"And your house guests?"

"All better. We spent some time bonding on a community manual labour project."

"And… The Anti-Life overrode their… Problem?"

"More like bypassed it." He shakes his head. "No, it was more like your life broadcast at the end that sorted them out."

"Ah, well, good. How well are they functioning?"

He raises his left eyebrow. "Compared to what?"

"The average member of society. I'm not asking because I like them, I'm asking so that I can either check off the project as 'complete' or actually complete it. Is there anything I need to do -like ferry them back to their home countries- that I haven't done so far?"

"No, they've… They've settled down, now. Got jobs, made friends… I think the best thing to do is leave them here." He shrugs. "Unless they ask you to move them."

Uh. Obviously that breaks U.S. immigration law, but it's a handful of people and given everything else that's going on…

"Alright. I can send messages to their families if they want, otherwise I'll leave supervising them up to you."

He gives me a sour look. "You never stopped leaving it with me."

I.. can't tell whether he's just having a moan or if he's genuinely aggrieved. Probably best to directly ask.

"Is there something I can do to make it up to you?"

"Try asking that sort of question about four months ago."

"I'd need a time machine for that, and we dismantled the last one. And the Legion of Superheroes wants to arrest me, so I can't just leave a time capsule-."

"No-. Not literally. Just show a bit more consideration."

I nod. "Alright. How many people do you want me to leave to die in favour of showing you consideration?"

He narrows his eyes slightly, his lips silently moving as he tries to get to grips with what I just said.

"Serious question. Superman would just say sorry and start popping by at random intervals, but the reason I came to you in the first place is because I think you're well-intentioned and capable. I haven't dropped anything on you that you didn't tell me you could handle, and you've clearly done a good job. The world's a mess, and a few days ago I was rescuing people before they could have their brains pulled out to be used as computers. Do you want me to not rescue them in favour of checking in on people who aren't in any danger?"

He sets his jaw. "Your people skills could use some work."

"Well, alright. I'll find a class to attend. I don't really like nine year olds much anyway. I'm sure Lonnie -who is an orphan, by the way- will be fine facing down LexCorp hit squads without me."

"Lead with that. Jesus!"

And then I see-. Whatever spell he's using to deflect my empathic vision weakens for a moment, and there's-.

I frown in puzzlement. "Is this because you think you should have been able to duck the Anti-Life?"

And the spell completely stabilises. "No, it's because you're an arse."

"Lots of people got turned. And you're a street magician. Unless you were specifically prepared for it, you shouldn't expect that you'd be much safer than a random member of the public, particularly if they focused on you to any degree. Nearly got me at one point."

He frowns. "How?"

"Used an infected clone of me."

"How did they clone you?"

"No, I cloned me. They stole them."

"Wha-?" His eyes widen slightly. "Using a drop of blood or a hair is-."

"A way to remotely affect someone, I know. I had defences in place that would have stopped a opportunistic raid of my home. They used super powered Justifiers. Look, I'll be happy to go over every concern you have later, but I'd like to recover Lonnie Machin as soon as possible. Can we please focus on that?"

"Who is he?"

"An unusually intelligent and socially conscious boy-" I take a hologram projector out of subspace and create an image of him. "-who appears to have stolen something from LexCorp. Parents missing presumed dead after the Anti-Life."

"Can we get something of theirs? Easier to track him like that-."

"Does it work if he was adopted?"

"Not as well. Natural parents?"

"Mother was killed in an arson attack, father's in an asylum for the criminally insane. As far as he knows, his son died in the fire too and that's how we're leaving it."

"Someone I'd have heard of?"

"Yes."

"Right. Okay. Take me to the people who had their-." He frowns. "Is this Lonnie boy a wizard?"

"Not as far as I know, but he's a… Scientific rationalist. If a phenomena exists, he's happy to study it."

"So if he found a book on magic..?"

"He would carefully follow the instructions."

"Except the magic books you get in America aren't-. Right." He metaphorically girds his loins. "Let's get on with it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th January 2000
03:19 GMT

I appear on Tel Basta in a.. cupboard, open the door and step out-

"…this time, but it surprises me-" On the hologram, Kali's eyes narrow as she spots me over Bastet's shoulder. "-that.. you.. store him in your wardrobe when you're not using him?"

Bastet frowns and then half-turns, looking at me with an expression of puzzled curiosity.

"I apologise for the intrusion, My Queen, but this cannot wait. Sokar is dead, and his domains are in the hands of Apophis." I turn my head to the hologram, giving her a shallow bow. "System Lord Kali, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Actually, it's the first time that she's met me. Once I realised the issue with the sarcophagi, I thought that making sure our allies weren't crazy was a priority and paid them covert visits.

"Dead? How?"

"The Tok'Ra, apparently." I roll my eyes. "Even when they achieve their objectives, they still make things worse for everyone. They managed to make Delmak's moon explode while his ship was in close proximity."

Kali doesn't look convinced. "I am more puzzled as to how Apophis is alive."

"I don't have all the details yet. Sokar ambushed him, he narrowly escaped, died, the people whose home he escaped to handed his body back to Sokar to save themselves, Sokar put it into a sarcophagus so he could torture him when he resurrected, then-" I shrug. "-he got bored, probably, and assigned him to Netu as a warden."

"He was on the moon which exploded?"

"He managed to get to Delmak just before Netu exploded. If you want.. precise timings, then I'm going to need a little while to make enquiries."

Bastet turns to Kali. "We will need to confirm this. This changes everything."

Kali nods. "He will need time to convert Sokar's Jaffa to his service-."

"I apologise, System Lord, but he won't. It's Sokar. Fear of punishment has its place as a tool, but it's the only one Sokar knew. Apophis's arrival will be celebrated, and Apophis can put his own Jaffa into any leadership positions which require filling. He will take losses while he reorganises his fleet and makes contact with Klorel, but then the attrition of his domains will stop and Heru'ur will be doomed. The question is… What do you want to do about it?"

"You counselled us to take no action."

I nod. "When Apophis and Heru'ur were equal in strength. That is no longer the case." She and Bastet exchange glances. "I will need to check on the status of Delmak personally, but… From initial reports, it appears to be no longer the case by a lot. If it was Sokar we were facing it might have been possible to establish a coalition, but now…"

Bastet nods. "We can no longer be uninvolved."

"Supreme System Lord Apophis." Kali sneers at the thought. "I suppose it could be worse."

"We could support Heru'ur." Bastet glances at me. "Or make a move ourselves. Do you believe that you could kill Apophis, my beloved?"

My hands find themselves in a praying position, pressed to my lips.

"That would depend upon a number of things. I would assume that Apophis will be on Delmak for at least a little while. It's a good deal more secure that Chulak. But I don't know where Klorel is. If I could escape detection -which is likely but not certain- then I.. could.. probably kill him. But his Jaffa would then most likely swear allegiance to Klorel and I have no idea where he might be. Delmak is in the wrong part of the galaxy for either of you to claim it without great difficulty. If I somehow found Klorel and killed him, then Heru'ur would most likely defeat the minor gods opposing him and -unless he did something stupid like pick a fight with System Lord Yu- he would eventually be able to claim his father's place."

Kali shakes her head. "Heru'ur is not Ra. He cannot command the same respect. If he overcomes Apophis then he would have earned his place as a System Lord but I will never call him Supreme."

Bastet looks… Well, she's smiling, but it's an 'amused' smile rather than a 'pleased' smile. "Tell me, Lord Mammon, how do you come by this information?"

"I asked the Tau'ri. And then I confirmed it from their database and mission recordings. The Tok'Ra also confirmed it."

"Tau'ri?" Kali looks puzzled. "I had almost forgotten that Bhuloka existed. But why do the Tok'Ra have dealings with them?"

My eyes flick to Bastet, and she inclines her head very slightly.

"The Tau'ri have developed somewhat since our departure. Rocket-driven spacecraft, explosive chemical projectile weapons, fairly sophisticated computer equipment… They have been making Apophis's life difficult for a while and it is they who killed Ra."

She frowns, mystified. "How? Did he actually visit them?"

"Ah, no, System Lord. They dug up the stargate that was buried during the revolt, and used it to visit Abydos. By pure chance, their visit coincided with one from Ra. They had a fission bomb, he decided to make a point by enhancing it with naquadah with the intent of sending it back through the stargate… And they managed to detonate it before he could."

Kali looks unamused. "And now they wander the network creating difficulties wherever they go."

I fan out my hands. "I personally find them rather pleasant company. If you want to keep them away from your territory, I suggest coming to terms with them. Or adding security to all of your stargates."

"Coming to terms?" She glares at me. "Surely you do not imply that I pay them tribute?"

"No, no. Of course not. Offer to trade. I exchange naquadah for improved crops and farm animals, amongst other things. They are avaricious, but they are not thoughtless brutes. They would not have risen as far as they have if they were."

Bastet holds up her right hand. "We can discuss the Tau'ri later. Apophis is our highest concern."

Kali thinks for a moment. "Send your Ashrak concubine to Delmak."

"To observe, or to kill?"

"Why do you ask? Kill, of course. There is little point in trying to locate Klorel and we cannot claim Delmak ourselves, but…"

Bastet nods. "Heru'ur will be easier to find. If the war does not go in our favour, why let it carry on at all?"

Ah. Yes, that-. I don't know where Klorel is, but if he wants to claim Delmak after I kill Apophis then he'll need to travel there because there's no goa'uld to act as his vassal. And I doubt he could send one because the distance and industrial base would be too great a temptation. Killing Heru'ur leaves Ra with no heirs… None of any significance, anyway. Which means there'll be a huge area of goa'uld space with no System Lord.

It could be generations before any goa'uld gets strong enough to claim that title. The… Fighting in the mean time will be…

Huh.

I mean, they both… Deserve it. But…

"I obey. But… Klorel does not have what it takes to hold his father's domains in full. Might I suggest offering him support, on the understanding that he does not continue the war? Allowing him to keep his father's core territory might calm things down a little."

Kali shrugs. "I have no interest in the child. Save him or do not."

I nod. "My Queen?"

"Since Kali has no interest, we can discuss it later. I think that my interests will be served either way."

Kali nods. "Contact me again upon his return."

Bastet nods, and the hologram vanishes. Then she turns to me.

"Explain."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th January 2000
03:23 GMT

"Certainly, My Queen. Which part-?"

"To begin with, calling me 'queen'. Kali knows, but you did not know that.

"Queen is a normal title for a female ruler. In my first language, it is also a term for a fertile female cat. I thought it worked as a pet name." I think she's thinking about it. "Good? Not good?"

"'Queen'."

"My Queen. Possessive."

She looks up for a moment, before returning her gaze to me. "I will allow it. Why do you want Klorel alive?"

"I have always been clear that the reason why I so admire you is that you are a great ruler. Most other goa'uld are… Adequate at best, Sokar… Being the worst I know of. If there is no System Lord who can take Apophis's place then the suffering of the humans and Jaffa living in his former territory will be immense as the minor goa'uld flail around carelessly to inflict any wound upon their rivals. But if there is one Lord more powerful that the others, then they must moderate their behaviour somewhat. And I don't have a better candidate than Klorel. I can kill Apophis and Heru'ur without leaving a trace of my presence. Klorel will have no reason to suspect you. He will resent his dependence on you, but I doubt that he would be so stupid as to slap your hand away."

She thinks for a moment. "I will consider this. What affect does that have on your plans?"

"Being seen to be able to moderate the worst excesses of… 'My fellow goa'uld', will aid my relationship with the Tau'ri, and allow me to encourage them to focus their ire against other domains. Particularly if Klorel can be encouraged to take a different host."

"Why?"

"His host is a friend of their… The nearest equivalent would be Second Prime, and the brother-in-law of their greatest historian. A medium value hostage, in other words. A more mature host would also underline his ascension to command of his own domain, rather than being his father's vassal. Again, few goa'uld are as gracious to their hosts as you are. Returning him would underline that distinction."

"I do not understand your fondness for the Tau'ri. When I discovered that you were treating with them -or rather, that it was them that you were treating with- I thought that perhaps there was some specific object or piece of knowledge that you wanted from them. Then I saw your new crops and thought that perhaps that was all there was to it. But there is more."

"Well, yes. I'm a Tau'ri myself."

She tilts her head to the side. "And they do not know?"

"Earth is split between many nations. The Tau'ri who use the stargate are from one of those nations. I am from another. Those who have the gate have not told the other nations what they are doing, and certainly do not share any of the technology which they capture and study. They picked a fight with Ra and Apophis and the first that any other nation would have known about it is when the planet shook from the explosion of his bomb or when his fleet began bombarding their cities."

"But you have not told the exploring nation what you are."

"No. This is more convenient."

She smiles. "Do not tell them unless I am there to see it."

I bow. "As My Queen commands."

"You plan to educate your humans using the Tau'ri as teachers."

"And the Tok'Ra, for the more advanced students."

"Tok'Ra? Egeria's mutant spawn who hate their brethren with all of their souls. Keeping a spy in your domain so that you can watch them is one thing, but you believe that you can persuade them to your cause. How?"

"I have repeatedly insulted their intelligence, and indicated in an extremely heavy-handed manner that their usual methods will not produce the goal they seek. More than that, I have caused their nominal allies amongst the Tau'ri to openly agree with me. And I have shown them my work, and yours, and asked them to consider the consequences of removing us for those they would 'protect' from us. Every time they have an opportunity to act against me, they will be forced to ask themselves 'Am I an idiot for doing this? Would this work better?'." I smile. "Or better yet, 'Did Egeria hate us too?'. They will do what I ask because it is not contrary to their basic drives and because it is better than confronting millennia of failure and doubt."

"You will monitor them very carefully. And you cannot allow the spies of other System Lords to discover them."

I shake my head, waggling my right hand dismissively. "All they will find is minor gods serving your favourite. And if they speak with mortal voices, so do I. And if they treat their hosts better than most, so do you. But it should not be difficult to limit their teachings to the children of life-long residents."

"Good."

"Though I should probably ask: the original Mammon. Did he have some relationship with the Tok'Ra Selmak? Because he acted like he knew 'me'."

She thinks for a moment. "Not that I recall. Ra's domains were their primary target. It is likely that Mammon was attacked at some point."

"I'll have to pay visits to Ra's former tributaries and see if they have any records on the subject."

"Heru'ur would be best. He inherited a good deal of Ra's fleet."

I shrug, smiling. "Since I'm going to pay him a visit anyway…"

"Why were you in my wardrobe?"

"I needed somewhere without observers, and that was closest to you." I transfer myself to the opposite end of the room and then back again. "I don't make a habit of hiding in your cupboard."

"I would hope not." She looks thoughtful. "Prior to our current arrangement, what was your goal?"

"The goal has not changed. The betterment of my people, my service traded for your beneficence. I have a more personal stake in your domain now, and… The fact that you discovered my plans and tolerated them makes me trust you more, but, fundamentally... "

"Your people of Syrania, or your people amongst the Tau'ri?"

"My people amongst the Tau'ri don't need me. Though I was thinking about taking you there for a visit. I think you might find it interesting; what they remember about the goa'uld's time on Earth, and what we've learned about the time before that. And some of the restaurants are really quite good."

"I do not often visit worlds not ruled by goa'uld. I think that I would find it interesting. But would the nation with the stargate be concerned? Your plans still require that you maintain a positive relationship with them."

"I didn't plan to announce who we are, and there are enough rich people in my country's capital that a degree of unusual behaviour will be ignored if I pay well. The main issue will be your bodyguards, but I can liaise with Huy to ensure that they are appropriately briefed and attired." I smile with the left side of my mouth. "The knowledge that I can at any point end their secrecy is one of the threats I have against the explorers. I doubt that they'll push me, even if they spot us. Though if that happens it may help if you pretend not to be Bastet."

"How will you explain my voice? I will not hide myself."

"If anyone asks, I will tell them that your voice is produced by an implant necessitated by a throat injury. But they probably won't."

She nods. "Very well. Proceed with your task. I will look forward to hearing of your success."

I start to bow, then reconsider. I step forward, gently take her right hand in mine and raise it to my lips, gently kissing her knuckles. I meet her eyes for a moment and then transition into high orbit.

Right. Time to kill Apophis. How hard can that be?

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
15:15 GMT

I feel eyes boring into the back of my head-.

I turn and watch Applejack buck an apple tree with… Somewhat less than her usual care. Apples fly forcefully in all directions, and her previously narrowed eyes widen as she gets a grip on herself.

No sense letting ill-feeling fester, not given how long it will take three princesses and a king to have time in their schedule to speak with me. "Applejack!" I trot towards the fence separating Sweet Apple Acres from the… Well, it used to be a track and it's still a track in places, but I can see where they've started paving it. "How are you?"

She pulls her eyes away from the tree she was apologising to and resumes glaring.

"Lahk you don't know."

"To the best of my knowledge I have taken no action likely to injure you or yours. Can you fill me in?"

She raises her left foreleg and points it towards… An early-stage building site in Ponyville proper. "That."

I frown mildly. "Ponyville has grown every generation since your great-grandparents founded it. I didn't think you had a problem with that?"

"Grown a little, and slowly." She looks around at her appsplosion, sighs, and then trots over to me. "More farms, an' a few stores an' a schoolhouse. Not a big ole' factory."

"Ah." I nod. "And you feel that the nature of the town will be altered for the worst."

She considers carefully. "Ain't… Certain it'll be worse. Not for sure. But it ain't gunna be the Ponyville ah grew up in. An' 'fore you say it, ah know it weren't the same Ponyville mah folks grew up in, nor Granny neither. But there's a difference between a bunch of farmers and what Twilight an' you 're fixing t' turn Ponyville into."

"Mm." I nod. "True. Did she tell you why?"

"Ah…" She frowns as she tries to remember. "Unparalleled… Opportunities in… Ah, whatchamacallit… Magic machine.. thingamies."

"No, the other reason." She shakes her head. "Celestia's planning on retiring, and she wants Twilight to take over running the country."

She blinks, craning her neck towards me slightly. "Say whut now?"

"Okay, so you know that a little over a thousand years ago, Celestia and Luna ran the country together? And then Luna had her little episode and Celestia ran the whole thing by herself?"

Applejack's still having a little trouble with the idea. "Uh-huh."

"And then Luna got rainbow-blasted and now they run it together again? Right, well, I'm afraid that the person governing the country can change. Celestia's been in place for what is by the standards of… Just about every polity in the universe, a freakishly long time. And she wants to stop."

"Oh." She sits down with a degree of force. "Okay."

"I mean, I could rule somewhere like this indefinitely, but it's not even her special talent. I mean, can you imagine keeping doing something you don't particularly like for a thousand years virtually every hour of the day? And not being able to use your special talent outside of a few minutes and dawn and dusk?"

She shudders. Or maybe twitches, I'm not sure.

"Can now. That really what she's been doin'?"

"Something like that."

"An' she picked Twilight t' take over. Ah mean, ah love her lahk a sister, but ah ain't sure runnin' the whole country is… Ah…"

I nod. "Yeah, I know. That's why she's been put in charge of Ponyville."

"Fer practice."

"Basically." I turn my equine neck left and right, taking in Central Equestria. "And the fact is that putting a large settlement in the centre of Equestria, along with a transit hub of railways and roads, is… An economic inevitability."

"Waste of good farmland, if'n ya ask me."

"Well, the town will be growing away from the current farms, but… Okay, look: I like manufacturing. And I don't have any problem building an industrial centre around the existing farms. But…"

"But whut?"

"This is good farmland. If you expanded, increased production, and used the new freight railways to ship your goods to other population centres, an agriculture-focused settlement remains viable."

"Twilight didn't think so."

"Twilight… I've noticed that she can sometimes become fixated on a plan and then have trouble adapting to changes in circumstance. Leaving Ponyville as it is isn't really an option, but if you're prepared to put the time in, you could propose an alternative."

She frowns thoughtfully. "Ah don't know. She seemed maghty keen on the machine workshops."

"Oh, those are going to stay. But they can do the experimental work and testing here and do the mass manufacturing closer to the mines, which will presumably be in areas that are bad for farming. And which are more used to industry. Less efficient, but… It would work."

"Oh-kay." She nods and smile. "Ah'm glad that's sorted out. I-."

"Oh, no. It's not." She tilts her head to the side and frowns. "That's an outline. You need to get together with the other farmers and come up with a detailed plan if you want to catch Twilight's attention. This isn't normal Twilight-With-A-Plan, this is Twilight-With-An-Order-From-Celestia."

She looks decidedly uncertain. "Ah ain't never planned anything lakh this befouh."

I shrug. "Neither's Twilight. And you've planned fields, planting and harvesting schedules and.. things like that." She tentatively nods. "And your parents, grandparents and great-grandparents must have done something similar?"

"Uh-huh. They surely did." She smiles at me. "Thank-." She frowns. "Wait jus' a moment. Le's jus' go back t' how Twilight's takin' over the whole country."

"Um. What's to say? Shouldn't be happening for a decade at the soonest, and… Not wanting to get too morbid here, but it might well not happen.. until…"

She nods. "Alicorns live a whole lot longer than regular folks. Jus'… Can't imagine Twilight bein' up there in the Royal Palace."

"Honestly, I'm not super-keen on that. I don't want her to fail in Ponyville, obviously, but rulership… It's a useful skill to have, but if it's not your special talent you should probably avoid putting yourself in Celestia's position."

Applejack nods. "She's jus' doin' it 'cause a' the Princess askin' her."

"Yep. Once she heard that, she stopping thinking and started doing. Can't really help you there, though I am going to be talking to Celestia in… A few hours, if you want me to pass anything on."

She strokes her chin with her right forehoof. "Think this is one ah'm gunna haf t'get all the girls together for."

"I suggest including Spike. And possibly sending a message to Cadance and Shining Armour and asking how they coped with having a city-state dumped on them."

"Will do."

"And on an ancillary issue, given how you don't employ seasonal workers here, what thought have you given to your own lineage?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Pardon me?"

"If you're going to be expanding, then you'll need more workers. Which means that now is the ideal time for you and your brother to look into possible marriage partners. That way, by the time your children start being old enough to-."

"That is a mite more familiar a conversation than ah'm comfortable havin' with a stranger."

She's blushing, and it really emphasise her freckles.

I smother my laugh, and turn away.

"Good luck with the planning, Applejack."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
07:13 GMT -8

Mr. Bierce and I appear outside of…

I sigh.

An abandoned warehouse. Or possibly an industrial unit. And I'm not sure that it's entirely abandoned. It still has power, there are still lights on… A quick check shows that it doesn't have power legally from the grid, but there's nothing stopping someone from hooking up a generator or something along those lines.

"Hm." Mr. Bierce looks down with a degree of satisfaction at the server hard drive dangling from a bit of string as it pulls in the direction of the building. Then he pulls it up and slides it into his pocket. "Well, that's where it was done, anyway. Let me poke around for a bit and I'll see if I can get a read on the magician."

"Just a moment while I notify the local police."

Message sent.

"Alright, now that it's legally not breaking and entering, let's go. Scans show-."

Ugh.

Mr. Bierce glances at me as he approaches the door. "If it's a bunch of brains, that was good foreshadowing."

"Ever watched Fight Club?"

"Read the book, once. What of it?"

"Quite a lot of human fat in there. Not enough other tissue for me to think that they've been acquiring it by murder, but it is a bit odd."

He nods. "Could be soap. And it could be material for a golem."

"Human fat?"

"I've seen stranger. It's a weak material but human tissue can take some spells better."

"How much better?"

He walks nearly right up to the door, studying it intently. "Not well enough to worry you. Plenty to worry me. Is anyone home?"

"Scans, heat and vibrations say 'no', and since this is a magician's workshop we aren't obliged to announce ourselves before bursting in."

"Still. If he just burned someone's records after they asked him to, it's a bit of a social faux pas to knock down the door."

"I mean, it's still a crime." He looks at me with his left eyebrow raised. "Just saying."

"When you're without sin, you can start throwing stones at other people's workshops. We don't want to escalate. Most wizards don't like people poking around their workshops."

"Most people don't like police poking around at their crime scenes. That isn't a reason not to do it."

He sighs. "Do you know who owns this place?"

"Technically, no one. I think the city government might have a claim on it, but they're busy. Los Angeles… Did not have a high survival rate." Hm. "Interesting that there aren't any genetic residues inside. Not that I can detect externally, anyway."

"Could just mean the owner's good with flesh magic."

"Or that they treat the place like a clean room. So-." Ah. "No quick and easy power-focused way to find out who owns it, but we can probably just knock on a few doors-"

He raises both eyebrows.

"-and ask people."

"I can ask people. You should just stay here."

I frown. "Are you sure? I can wear a disguise."

"Yeah, I think it's for the best." He sticks his hands in his pockets and slouches off, something… Something about how he looks making it seem like he fits in better than-. Street magic.

So… Hang around looking pretty, or find some actual work to do?

I don't want to try entering the building if Mr. Bierce wants to play this softly. He's the expert after all. Hacking phones…

Hm. They've got a landline, and the nearest mobile phone tower is over there. I send a filament to access the landline hub and remotely access the tower. List of numbers that have called here recently and a list of mobile phones frequently in the area..?

Compliance.

Good. Any overlap?

One match. Marquez Agua.

I raise my left hand to my ear.

Phone him.

Compliance.

A few rings, and then…

"Ak, come on, man. You know I'm not working today."

"I can't say that I did, but thank you for letting me know."

"Wh-? Who is this."

"Orange Lantern."

"H-h." He sounds amused. "Did Seamus put you up to this?"

"No, but I'm logging that name. I'm standing outside of an industrial unit containing quite a lot of human fat. I'm not seeing any record of the property having any kind of licence for holding or processing human tissue."

"Ah, shit."

"Yes. But how much depends on what's actually happening here. Given some of the spells I've run into, I have concerns, but with civic infrastructure being what it is I understand that a few applications might not have made it through the system yet."

"So, you-. You just want to know what we're doing. That's it?"

"Assuming that no major crimes have occurred, yes. I may point out that some things are illegal, but given that I do want more people to start studying magic, you can just treat it as a 'need for corrective action' notice from your regulator."

"I mean, I don't actually run-. Ah…"

"Then I suggest that you contact your employer and ask them to report to your place of work as quickly as possible. I suggest also coming along yourself, along with your co-workers."

"I… I guess-."

"The alternative is that I come looking for you. You don't want that."

"No. Ah. Okay. I'll be there in… Ah, twenty minutes."

"I'll look forward to meeting you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
07:25 GMT -8

The somewhat weather-beaten car pulls up to the industrial unit car park with commendable haste and compliance with driving ordnances, a man of Hispanic extraction getting out a moment later. He's staring at me with a combination of surprise and nervousness on his face.

"Hey, ah… I wasn't sure it was really you."

"I assure you, I'm really me. Your colleagues?"

"I…" He shakes his head. "I couldn't get hold of Seamus, and my boss should already be here."

"He doesn't appear to be inside."

He shrugs. "Could be out getting breakfast or a cigarette. I can let you in..?"

"Please do so. And tell me about your employer."

"Mister Levi used to be a quality checker in a pharmaceutical company. Did chemistry in college." He inserts his key into the door, and then takes out… That's not a fob key, that's a fetish. He waves it around the door frame before turning the key. "He said he was always kind of interested in magic, but then…" He turns back to me. "Huh. I guess it figures you'd be-."

I raise my eyebrows. "I'd be..?"

"It was that talk you did, about how not using new technology and not using magic was stupid. He got really into it. Got a grant to do scientific magic research. Ended up quitting his regular job-. This was all before the Anti-Life thing."

"Okay, that sounds respectable and productive. But there's a lot of human fat in there."

"Oh, that. Yeah, it-." He pushes the door open and beckons me inside. "We're not doing anything that needs that much human fat. Not anymore. But we needed a standard medium for testing-. We do hundreds of tests with tiny variations to try and find out what exactly works the best. It was easier to get standardized fat than blood. And…"

"Go on. You're doing fine so far."

I follow him as he leads the way inside.

"When the Anti-Life… Happened, he… Kind of managed to ward it off. Just a.. little. But the fat went bad real fast. We ended up raiding clinics and stuff." He raises his hands defensively. "And I know we-."

I shake my head. "Perfectly fine, under the circumstances. Weapons, medicine and reagents are all acquisitionable during major crises like that. If you'd taken cash or jewellery, that's not okay, but vital supplies are fine."

"Including human fat?"

"You might need to prove the efficacy of your ward in court, but in principle, yes."

He exhales, sagging slightly. "That's a huge load off my mind. Ah, thanks."

The interior… 'Work space' is basic but up to code. There's a nitrogen tank I remember from… Work on Earth Prime, and a clean room with a fume cabinet, and a work bench covered in equal parts scientific equipment, magic books and alchemical reagents. More of the same fills three shelving units set against the walls, and power is provided by…

I think that's a magic-based generator.

"There are more efficient ways to check the law than asking a superhero, but we'll do in a pinch. However, that doesn't explain the fat you've got now."

He pulls out a chair and sits down, gesturing for me to do the same. Since he's being so helpful, I comply.

"Turns out we took more than a month's worth. And it's not like the clinics need it back. I mean, how would we even do that?"

"In theory, if you were complying with the law, you would walk up to the front door, announce that you'd taken their property during the emergency and were now returning it, and then hand it over. But I wouldn't worry about it." I frown. "Have liposuction clinics..? Reopened..?"

"That's the other thing; a lot of 'em haven't. Some places are just abandoned, some are shut down… Some have reopened, but we weren't all that careful about exactly what came from where."

"As I said, don't worry about it. Now, the main reason that I'm here is that I want to ask about whether-. No, let's not pretend that I don't know. Some people came here and had a spell cast to erase their records. I want to know exactly what happened."

"Huh?"

"I'm assuming that your work includes pure casting as well as alchemy?"

"Uh, yeah?"

I take a hologram projector out of subspace and activate it, showing the faces of the five roof attackers. And then I add my most recent scan of Lonnie Machin's face.

"These gentlemen. Do you recognise any of them?"

He makes a point of looking the faces over, then shakes his head. And his brain activity suggests that he's not lying.

"I didn't even know there was a spell that could do that. Like… Every record?"

"I'm not sure of the exact reach it has, but it looks like it gets every paper or electronic record. The Justice League has warded computers and my rings are a little special, but otherwise a person can erase everything except memories with it."

"Jesus. Is it hard to make it work?"

"Not sure. It doesn't require much raw power or expensive reagents. And I don't think it needs that much skill."

"Got a few parking tickets I wouldn't mind making go poof."

"Alright, but you'd also lose your passport, driving licence, mortgage or rental agreement, contract of employment, banking records and school certificates. It's really for people willing to live off the grid only."

"Oh." He nods. "So, what now?"

"Well, I'm waiting for my colleague to get back so that we can more precisely trace-."

"…already here. Seamus!? Marquez!?"

Mr. Agua half turns to the door. "In here!"

A man… Mr. Levi, walks in, followed by Mr. Bierce, who briefly rolls his eyes at me.

"Orange Lantern. Ah, hello, hello!" Mr. Levi walks up to me, offering me his right hand. I politely shake it. "Ambrose was just telling me-. Your tattoos! Do they really make you immune to all magic detection?"

"Virtually all of it. Two-stage indirect attempts can still work. Listen, I need to know about-."

"The boy you're trying to find, yes. I've never met him, but anything I can do to help, just say the word."

"Ah. Ah, thank you. Let's see if we can narrow down what happened and go from there."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th January 2000
03:42 GMT

I sit on an asteroid which used to be part of Netu, looking down at the planet below me as the planetary defence system continues to deal with the rocks heading towards the planet.

It's not often that the idea of killing a goa'uld would make me feel like a heel.

I get on well enough with Bastet's Underlords because they think I'm one of them, and because I pay them proper deference while in their domains. And because I was weaker, and because Bastet likes me a lot. But that doesn't mean I'm blind to how they treated their subjects. Oh, the sort of brutal cruelty of Am-Heh was unusual, and there were plenty of human rulers who ruled as god-kings. That was pretty common in the earliest human farming civilisations on.. Earth.

And I now realise that they were probably either aping the goa'uld or were goa'uld themselves.

Huh.

So I can't take that too badly. That isn't a unique goa'uld thing but something plenty of humans did. And probably do in worlds the goa'uld have abandoned.

But unlike every human despot, every single goa'uld could do better. They all have knowledge of different social models. They all knew that Ra had humans in other positions than miner and farmer, and yet so very few of them… Make the effort.

I had to point out to Lord Mahes that he could ask Bastet to convert humans into Jaffa if they performed sufficiently well. He's not stupid, he just… Wrote humans off, and never revised his decision.

Bastet's… Different. She at least has a sizable artisan and political class, and has allowed a more advanced level of technology that most goa'uld would. She restricts it as a control mechanism rather than as a form of negligence, and the fact that she is willing to allow me to go further indicates a different mindset.

Or maybe our relationship has made me unduly understanding where she's concerned.

But the point is that the spontaneous celebrations are still going on. And as far as I can tell Apophis finds them amusing enough that he isn't cracking the whip and sending everyone back to work. These people are really happy that Sokar is gone. Even the Jaffa, and not just because the First Prime and other senior Jaffa died with their master and Apophis has had to promote a lot of them. Though I suspect that doesn't hurt.

If Bastet and I had a goa'uld child ready to go, this would be a perfect place to set them up.

What will happen if I do this? Ah, let's say… Publically?

Well, he'd get put in a sarcophagus. Or kept fresh until they could find or capture one. If that wasn't possible… The planet would probably carry on much as it did before, plus the amendments he made prior to his death. With no other goa'uld around it would be neutralised as an offensive body until… A Prim'ta reached maturity.

No. Maybe? Sokar was sent here a long time ago. He would have had millions of mature Prim'ta to deal with. If he allowed any of them to be implanted, he would have a plethora of Underlords. And I can't see a single one.

Not sure where he was getting new Prim'ta from. If he was still alive it would be worth doing a genetic comparison, but as things are now it's pretty redundant.

Ah…

Human worlds deprived of their goa'uld usually develop into autocratic monarchies, based on whatever structures were there before. Senior servants become near-divine regents. Or perhaps merchants make use of their advantageous informational and financial resources to secure their positions. In a situation like this the Jaffa would probably take control in their late gods' name, pending his 'return'. Except the First Prime has been in post for all of five minutes and doesn't have the loyalty of the other Jaffa. Not to the degree that they'd accept him as their interim ruler, at least.

So perhaps each industrial region would end up independent? No, no, that doesn't make sense either. They're military industrial plants. Without war preparations they don't serve any particular purpose. No one would pay-.

The goa'uld are at war. Of course people would pay. That could work. For export, not for other parts of a headless kingdom. We could buy them-. Delmak is almost entirely lacking in civilian amenities. We could ship them food and raw materials in exchange for ships and guns. Delmak's location isn't exactly a secret, though as far as I know most goa'uld don't know exactly what's happening here.

I'd still need a figurehead, and I don't know the locals well enough to pick one. And openly killing Apophis would cause chaos. And covertly killing him would make everyone wonder where he was.

Hm.

I… Could do it myself. They don't know him well, and I've got plenty of recordings of his voice and mannerisms. I could alter the shape of my face… No, I couldn't do everything I'd need to on Syrania and occupy Delmak as Apophis.

What else, then?

I could alter someone else's appearance, but I can't think of anyone would could take that role. Except for a Tok'Ra, maybe, but I wouldn't trust them to use safety scissors responsibly, much less a major industrial base.

I mean, it would work… Maybe if I knew them better.

I also don't have anyone I could leave as a regent. So that leaves…

I take Am-heh out of my ring, and then do the same with the Mammon clone corpse.

I could stick one of these two in his host, or assimilate Apophis and leave him in post with new instructions.

That would be a dick move to the host, and based on the S.G.C.'s recordings the host is somewhat compos mentis. Probably not in any condition to run a planet, but freeing him would be an improvement in his conditions. And he could work up to functioning on his own.

Apophis knows everything he needs to know. That's the deciding factor, really. I'm going to need-.

Apophis is… Retiring for the evening. Not to a sarcophagus, but to… Sokar's bed. The room looks like it's had some decorations violently removed and not yet replaced, which would make sense.

Sarcophagus. Apophis has almost certainly used one a great many times in his life. Which means that the brain lesions will be fairly pronounced. I could just fix them. Which… Would leave his host a slave, wouldn't make him willing to work with me or Bastet, would anger Bastet as I'd be going against her request… No, no point.

What does his room have in the way of defences?

Guards on the door, guards on the wall, and… Force field around the bed, but it's off by default. Apophis is armed, but he's put his host into sleep mode basically immediately.

Hm.

The streets of the palace area have cleaner sight-lines than Am-heh's keep, the patrols are better organised and the people are still partying, meaning that there are more people around to spot the untoward. And… This is my first ecumenopolis. There isn't anywhere I can dig a hole from without risking getting spotted.

I could take the risk-. But, no. They may not know Apophis well, but if something strange happens and his behaviour changes, that might give the game away. A better option…

The stargate. If I put together a trade caravan and dial Delmak… Probably best if I pretend to be a trader myself. If Bastet remembers Mammon then Apophis certainly would. Take examples of grains and produce, say that I'm there to see if they are interested in a trade agreement, and while I'm working the stand I can feel around with filaments. Or if they direct me to a hotel -if they even have those- then I'll have plenty of time to work on getting through to Apophis.

Sounds like a plan. But I'll need a day or two to put things together. And to explain to Bastet that I won't be 'killing' him so much as completely subverting him. Still, the plan doesn't have any obvious flaws. I doubt that much will happen in the next few days that could take Apophis away from his reorganisation of his latest possession.

18th January 2000
04:12 GMT

"Gone?" The Jaffa nods. "Gone… Where?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
15:23 GMT

"Look o-!"

Something on wheels shoots underneath me-

"Huh?"

-and careens towards-. Towards a construct crash mat that I interpose between in and the brick wall it was heading towards. I let the construct dissipate as the.. small pony picks… Herself up and rights her scooter. She looks around for a moment and the affects an 'I meant to do that' expression before turning back to me.

"Ah. Hey."

Small, orange, wings, purple mane and tail, no cutie mark. Scootaloo, and if she still doesn't have a cutie mark then it seems that the writers decided to keep torturing the three of them past the point where I arrived on Earth 16.

"Hello, little pony. Scootaloo, isn't it?"

"Ah… Yeah." She looks awkward about talking to me, but not scared-awkward. "Um. Can I..? Talk to you..?"

"You appear to be doing that now? Unless you mean privately, in which case… Maybe?"

Equestria doesn't have the sort of child safeguarding laws that advanced countries on Earth do. In theory, there's no problem with me boom tubing her somewhere, having a chat and then sending her back, as long as I do so in a timely manner. I look around, trying to assess how much privacy places in Ponyville are likely to provide.

'Not much' appears to be the answer. I wasn't wrong about Ponyville becoming a dormitory town, but it's not just that. The improvements to the train network have already resulted in a few companies constructing warehouses on the outskirts, and a few other higher order of service buildings are visible away from the town centre as well.

"I-." She fluffs her wings nervously as she approaches, gathering her- "Canyoufixmywings?" -courage.

"Ah…"

I frown, giving them a scan. Um. Okay, it looks like they're a little small, relative to her size, but I can't immediately see anything else wrong with them. And given that there's a pony with visibly stunted wings who can fly just fine I doubt that's the issue. Something about how the magic functions, perhaps? Shouldn't be anything that modern thaumaturgical science can't fix; before Sunset pulled it off fixing a broken horn was beyond Equestrian medicine.

"Possibly? If you can get me your medical records, I can have my specialists take a look and see what they think."

That doesn't appear to satisfy her. "Don't you have anything..? Faster?"

"Haste in medicine is a bad idea, at least when the patient isn't bleeding o-heavily in front of you. You heard about how we fixed Tempest Shadow's horn?"

She nods.

"That took us over a year of research into horn structures and magic flows before we attempted a repair job, and we found the remains of her broken part to help us. What exactly is wrong with your wings?"

"They just don't-" She flaps-. Buzzes her wings and jumps, lifting off the ground for a moment before falling back down. "-lift me."

"You appear to be flapping rather differently to most pegasus ponies I've observed. Could that-?"

"I've tried that. This is the only thing I can do to get off the ground at all."

"Ah. Alright. I'll get hold of Sunset, and she can take a look at you. I know that she's been interested in-."

"How about..?" She takes a deep breath and plants her hooves. "How about making me an alicorn? Rainbow Dash said that she was on a.. approved list, but she doesn't want it, so can I have her slot?"

"Huuuuh."

I mean, that… Would probably fix any issue. The vast majority of pegasus ponies in Equestria fly with no problem at all, so reconfiguring her magic based on the species-wide template would result in there being no issue at the end. Might be worth checking to see if her magic is just different rather than non-functional-.

"Can you stand on clouds?"

"Yeah?"

"Manipulate them?"

"A little?"

"Have you ever noticed yourself doing anything with your magic that other ponies can't do, for example, sensing air currents?"

"Ah… No? And what does that have to do with becoming an alicorn? You said anypony could do it."

"Sure… And… Celestia and Luna became alicorns before they got their cutie marks-."

She blinks. "They did?"

"Ah, yeah. Well into adolescence, actually. Got them when they took over control of the sky from the unicorns who managed it before them."

Her eyes widen. "Whow. So… Like… They didn't have them when they moved the sun and moon?"

"Yes, that's exactly it." I frown. "Well, not when they started. I didn't actually ask whether they got them after or during."

"How come!?"

"I'm.. probably not the best person to ask about that. But as I understand it, Cutie Marks aren't a reward you get for achieving a certain level of excellence. Rather, you get them when you recognise something you were always good at. You're fortunate, really: it doesn't work like that on Ap-."

"So they could always raise the sun? And-and the moon?"

"Yes?"

"But… They could only do that after they became alicorns."

"They could only do that on their own after they became alicorns. You know the Hearthwarming story: it used to be done by regular unicorns."

"So…" Her brow furrows. "What would have happened if they weren't alicorns? Would they have got some other Cutie Mark?"

"No, they'd probably have gotten involved in raising and lowering the sun with the unicorn team that would have done it if there weren't alicorns around to handle things. Being alicorns just made them much better at it due to the extra raw power. And probably having the magic of the other two tribes."

"So if I was an alicorn… I'd still get the same Cutie Mark, but I'd be better at whatever it was my Special Talent is?"

"Ah, basically."

"Neat!" She perks up. "I wanna be an alicorn! Ah, please!"

I mean… It's a straight upgrade. And Sunset has wanted more non-unicorn volunteers. Still, I'm a little reluctant to change the species of a pony this young, even if there's a medical reason for it. If her magic problem doesn't sort itself out as she reaches full physical maturity she could go through it then. But with an earth pony and a unicorn pony as her closest friends, the only reason why she couldn't try Twilight's method is the lack of a powerful source of raw magic, and…

I look at the Everfree Forest. And then at the Castle of Friendship, containing the magic table that can track anyone in the country.

If she really wants to change her species, wouldn't it be better for her to do it with the help of professionals, rather than mess about with it herself?

"Why don't we go and talk to your parents about it."

"Ah…" She looks reluctant. "That… Could be kind of a problem."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
15:29 GMT

"…this time of year!"

I tilt my head slightly to the side as I watch a heavily built earth pony viciously yank on a wyvern's tail, causing it to fall on its face. An unusually tall pegasus pony then darts down and clamps one end of a set of oversized manacles around the base of its tail, just above the barbed stinger.

"RRRRRWWWWWGGGHHHHH!"

The pegasus pony clamps the other end of the set of manacles to a large ring embedded into the rocky ground, prompting the earth pony to release the tail and then jump onto its back. In a trice -and I have to admit that I'm impressed by this- there's a rope tied around the base of its wings. That won't stop it flying, but it will make it awkward and cause it to instinctively try and tear the rope off first.

"Should I get the speculum?"

"RRWWGHH?"

"No, far too much risk of damaging the eggs."

"RRWWGHH."

He jumps down from its back and approaches the base of the wyvern's tail. Then he raises his right forehoof.

"I'm gunna haff t'go right up its clacker."

The wyvern bends its neck around to look at him. "Rwgh?"

"Yeah. Sorry, Sheila." He pulls a rubber glove out of his saddlebags and puts it on his right forehoof. "It's the only way."

The wyvern blinks, then bends its neck towards the heavens and starts frantically pulling against its chain. "RRRRRWWWWWGGGHHHHH!"

"OhmygoshohmygoshohmyGOSH!" Next to me, Scootaloo's wings buzz excitedly. "I've never seen Mom and Dad at work before!"

I consider the scene before us, my mouth chewing imaginary cud as I consider what might be the best way to encourage her to look away from this particular part of their work.

"Ah…"

"Alright, I'm going in." He puts a… Sou'wester hat and coat on. And then a gas mask. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck, honey!"

Oh by the Source. NowNOW!

"Excuse me!" I raise my own right forehoof, then have a sudden urge to wash it. Down again. "If I might have a moment of your time?"

The pair look at each other for a moment, then the pegasus pony launches off in our direction while the earth pony… Prepares to do his job-.

I focus on the pegasus pony.

"Mom! MOM!"

She jerks to a halt in mid-air, blinks, and then smiles broadly as she darts down to wrap her forelegs and wing around her daughter. I focus on that as I try to ignore the soft squelching sound from below us and the quiet cry of 'Rwggggggggggggggggwh'.

"Scoots, baby! What are you doing here!?"

"Mister Grayven says he can fix my wings!"

I get a suspicious glare over her daughter's back-. Right until she spots the wings and properly accounts for my height.

"Oh."

"Don't worry, I'm not actually an alicorn. I just look like this because of a magic mirror. However-"

"Rwggggggggggwhhh​h?"

"-improvements in our understanding of thaumaturgy mean that we now have the ability to transform just about anypony into an alicorn. We also managed to replace a horn broken about two thirds of the way up. I wanted to talk to you about it because while I'm perfectly happy to authorise Scootaloo's treatment, I thought it would be a good idea to run it by you and your husband first."

"Any..? Pony..?"

"As far as we know. You see, ascension works by creating arcane bonds between the magics of the three tribes. Various sort of bond work, and the raw magic can come from just about anywhere. Princess Cadance-. You've heard of her?" A small nod. "She used stolen love magic-. Someone else stole it." She nods. "Stolen from all three tribes and which discharged itself right into her special talent after she freed it from its containment vessel. Whereas for Princess Twilight, the magic came from a set of magic artefacts called the Elements of Harmony, and the bond came from the intense emotional connection between her and her closest friends. My own student Sunset Shimmer on the other hand managed to plug herself directly into the background magics of Equestria, maintaining the connection with her own magic while her body was reconfigured. And that technique is far more easily replicable."

The pegasus nods, then cranes her neck down to her daughter. "Your wings haven't gotten any better, baby?"

Scootaloo looks down, shaking her head. Her mother gives her a comforting nuzzle before returning her attention to me.

"We were hoping it was something she'd just grow out of."

I nod, shrugging. "She still might. Or it might be something that could be fixed with far less extreme measures. But the thing is… Ascension requires a magic-talent unicorn, but beyond that it's pretty simple and there's basically nothing that can go wrong with it. Any other medical intervention would be more difficult, and… I know this is theologically awkward for ponies, but being an alicorn is just… Better than anything else that we could do."

She nods. "How did you..? Get all the way out here?"

BOOM!

I nod back as the boom tube appears behind me. "I can open those-."

"Ping."

"Mother Box can open those to just about anywhere. So if you want to come back to Equestria for a few days to talk about this with a thaumaturgist and a physician, then come back here, I can make that happen."

"We'll need to get Marybelle settled back on her nest first-"

"RRWughP! Ghp! Ghp!"

"-but after that we should be free to come back."

Scootaloo's wings buzz excitedly. "Can I watch?! I've never seen you working up close before!"

Her mother looks regretful as she shakes her head. "Baby, it's a big wyvern."

I smile. "Oh, no problem. Watch."

I swing my left foreleg at Scootaloo-. Her mother's eyes widen and she prepares to dive forwards-.

My hoof hits Scootaloo and bounces off her kinetic barrier. The foal grins.

"Mister Grayven made me a magic shield!"

Her mother takes a deep breath as she gets her heart rate back under control.

"It's not actually magic, and it only works for physical impacts. But she doesn't have to worry about getting hit by a claw or a tail."

"Pllllllleeeeeeeease, Mom!"

"Okay, just… Stand back a little." She glances behind her. "And maybe give your dad a chance to wash off, first."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
07:57 GMT -8

Dust correspondence. Obvious, really.

Tracking a person by using a part of their body is old and analogue magic. Hair and blood are favourites, fresh blood resonating with their life essence and hair with all of their other hairs-.

"Would I be correct in assuming that tracking someone with their hair would be impossible if they were bald?"

Mr. Bierce looks around from where he's peering over Mr. Levi's shoulder at the screen of his laptop.

"No. Be a lot harder, though, unless the follicle was still alive. And they'd have to be completely shaved." He considers for a moment. "Could be why the Ancient Kahndaqi priests used to do it. Less complicated resonances."

I nod. I never took a tissue sample from Mr. Machin, because… That would be creepy, and I didn't think matters would come to a head with him for another five years at least. Maybe never. I didn't detect any skin or hair from him at the LexCorp office so that's no good, but we're as confident as we can be that the ritual was performed here. And we know the general shape he makes in the world and we know that he wasn't using one of the fetishes that the actual employees use. So hopefully we can use magic to make the local air and loose matter remember when something that shape was last here with an irregular permission necklace.

Mr. Bierce goes back to staring at the screen. "So this machine… Helps you caste the same spell thousands of times really quickly."

"It's… More that it lets us run them in parallel, which lets them reinforce each other to keep the whole thing going without needing constant input from the magician casting it. It's, ah… A really dumbed down version of what Professor Sephtian built in Poseidonis."

I nod. "Still, that's a major achievement, making something like that with surface world resources."

He smiles. "Thank you, but it-. There just aren't enough practitioners here to-. Advance."

I nod sympathetically. "Oh, I know."

"Oh, yes, you… Probably know better than me." He presses a few more buttons. "Okay, this is done. Ambrose, were you following well enough to handle the active casting?"

"I think so." He nods. "That bit seems pretty simple."

"That's the thing, isn't it? Magic isn't that hard or complicated. You just have to know… How."

Mr. Bierce looks mildly mulish. "There's a little bit more to it than that. Using a little magic can attract the wrong kind of attention."

Mr. Levi rolls his eyes. "If anyone in a Christian country actually makes a deal with a demon, they've only got themselves to blame."

Mr. Bierce gives his head a little shake. "Yeah, but they can do a lot of harm before the bill comes due. Right." He rolls up his sleeves and walks over to a circle of metal set into the floor. "Here?"

Mr. Levi nods. "Whenever you're ready."

Mr. Bierce stretches his hands out, wiggles his fingers and then laces them together to stretch his finger joints. Recognising the bit, I look away to see if he's enchanted anything to act while his showmanship is holding their attention. And then I remember that despite his appearance he's not actually John Constantine after a month living homeless and probably wouldn't do something like that.

I look back at him, and he flashes me a small grin before returning his attention to the circle. "Right. Here we go. Starting small…"

I pull out my runestone and hold it out. It isn't a precise guide to levels of arcane force, but the glow is increasing very slightly. As I watch, thin wisps of dust start dancing around the containment circle.

"Huh. Bloody good, this." Mr. Bierce glances at Mr. Levi, nodding approvingly. "Could have come in handy more than a few times over the last couple of decades."

"That's progress for you. Not feeling any resistance?"

"Not as such. I can feel the existing spells sticking around… That's odd, but it's not… Making it harder."

"Would you like a job?"

Mr. Bierce snorts. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I'm… I can cast that spell, but I can feel that your casting is faster and… Cleaner. We'd make more progress with someone who understands the subject better than I do. And… I imagine that you have a library of your own."

"Heh. Yeah." Mr. Bierce glances at me for a moment. "I am actually between projects. What are house prices like around here?"

"The state government is giving out renovation grants to people who find unoccupied properties, as long as they sort out the bodies."

Seriously? "There are still bodies?"

Mr. Bierce shrugs. "It's only been three months. Takes a bit longer than that for a human body to decay."

"No, I mean, three months and they still haven't organised a house-to-house? Or their neighbours haven't?"

I'm-. Okay, I'm not a tax payer but the League and Co. are effectively paying to keep the government apparently solvent. I think that the State of California may be abusing our generosity.

"Message to Mister Atom. Medium priority task. When you get a moment, please audit the California State Government."

"Mister Atom." Mr. Levi thinks for a moment. "Isn't he the robot that tried taking over the world a few years ago?"

"Yes, but he fully understands that brute force is an inefficient way to do that."

"And he can audit the state government?"

"Oh yes. A.I.s are very good at anything involving numbers-."

Mitchell said that the fake couriers were trying to do something with Enginehead. Lonnie… Probably hasn't been able to build that brain enhancer that he had in the comics. He's intelligent, but using something like that on his own brain with no way to reverse it… No, I don't think so. If he-.

I never asked about Enginehead's network architecture. I assumed that his core intelligence was housed in the LexCorp building in Metropolis, but I didn't… Check.

Ring, contact Enginehead.

Compliance. … Working.

Oh dear.

"There." Mr. Bierce steps back as… A patch of dust and distorted air roughly in the shape of 'Anarky' takes shape. "Done, and it looks solid too."

"Alright." Mr. Levi presses another button, and the apparition steps out of the circle and… Collapses, flowing towards the door before assuming its shape again. "It should be moving in reverse from the moment he left."

Unable to comply.

Contact Lex Luthor.

Compliance.

We watch as the spectral Anarky walks backwards into the room, then pulls some sort of mat out of his satchel and lays it on the ground. Then… Something…

Mr. Bierce takes a closer look. "He's writing something. Can't really tell what."

Mr. Levi shrugs regretfully. "That's the best resolution we're going to get, I'm afraid."

Something leaps into his hand, and he pulls a match away from it. Mr. Bierce nods as our assumption is proven. "Might be able to track him with the remaining ash, but it won't be precise or easy."

"Orange Lantern, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I raise my right hand to my ear. "Not a social call, I'm afraid. What did Anarky do to Enginehead?"

"Ah." There's a pause as he thinks. "We're not sure. He appears to be in working condition, but he won't reactivate. I take it that something exotic is happening?"

"It looks like it. Can we take a look at his server?"

"Of course. Occupational health is everyone's concern. I'll expect you within the hour."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th January 2000
23:47 GMT -5

"Lord Mammon." Colonel Frank Cromwell looks mildly puzzled at my arrival. "Good to see you again."

They didn't even bother putting a full squad in their gate room when I signalled that I wanted to visit. I wonder if I should be insulted.

"Colonel, this is a little urgent, and I suggest that you send someone to wake up General Hammond."

He doesn't look impressed. "You mind telling me why?"

"I have been notified by SG One that Sokar was assassinated and that Apophis has taken over his domain. My Queen then tasked me with assassinating him. I spent several days getting into position only to find out that he wasn't on Delmak any longer."

Cromwell frowns. "Then where is he?"

"He's just found out that his son -whom he trusted to rule his core territory is his absence- has been captured and is being held on Tollana. Sokar's Jaffa have gone over to him and they've brought their fleet with them. He's heading there now. I haven't seen Tollana myself, but based on records-."

He half-turns. "Go wake the General up!"

"Thank you." I smile at him. "So, uh. How have you been?"

"I'm experiencing the passage of time normally, which is nice."

"No sign of radiation damage or stress fractures?"

He shakes his head. "Not according to Doctor Fraiser. I suppose I was only there for a few seconds, effectively."

"Quite true, but I find it's always best to check how those things work in practice. Just curious, but do you think that a robot duplicate of you would be interested in working for me?"

He regards me levelly, without much expression. "No. I think he'd be pissed about having to leave his whole family behind."

"Ah." I nod. "Worth knowing."

"I'm grateful, but I'm not betray-my-country-and-leave-my-whole-life-behind grateful."

"I understand. I wouldn't have expected otherwise. Though should the worst come to the worst and the Earth be invaded, I would be delighted to shelter as many of your soldiers -and your families- as could make it through the gate."

He looks uncertain for a moment, then decides to accept it in the spirit in which it was intended. "I'll be sure to pass that on."

17th January 2000
23:59 GMT -5

I'm just glad that he didn't go home for the night.

"And you're sure that's where he's taking his fleet."

I shrug. "That's what the Jaffa I spoke to on Delmak said."

"And how many ships does he have?"

"He took one flagship and six other Ha'tak with him from Delmak's system defence fleet. But all of Sokar's domain swore allegiance to him; he may well have picked up other ships after leaving."

General Hammond nods tiredly. "And you think that's enough to shoot his way through whatever defences the Tollan have protecting their homeworld."

"It might be. But if there's no rush, I imagine that he'd settle for throwing asteroids at the planet from out of their effective range. Apophis isn't an idiot."

"Thank you for letting us know, but I'm not sure what you expect us to do about it."

"My Queen has assigned me the task of assassinating Apophis. That would be a good deal easier if I was on Tollana. And of course I would very much like to make diplomatic contact with them myself."

He thinks for a moment. "And what is your Queen's intention toward Klorel?"

"We would like the goa'uld back. You can keep Skaara."

"For what reason do you want him? You told us that Bastet wanted Apophis and Heru'ur to keep fighting each other."

"My Queen's intent is to use him as a puppet ruler for his father's domains, crush Heru'ur and bring an end to the current period of chaotic warfare."

"With herself as Supreme System Lord."

"No, no. Her alliance with System Lord Kali would make that quite unpalatable. Just… Joint first amongst equals. And I wish to emphasise that the people mostly getting the sharp end of the fighting at the moment are the human populations of the worlds being fought over. The United States of America isn't in any position to uplift the human populations of this galaxy. My Queen on the other hand is."

"Do you have some way of stopping Apophis's fleet?"

I smirk confidently, letting my eyes flare. "I'm a god."

He glares at me, unamused.

"I intend to get onto the hull of his flagship and put a large shaped charge onto the hull of the pel'tac, get out of the way and then detonate it once I'm sure that he's there."

He shakes his head. "How? If you use a ship he'll detect it."

"I thought I'd steal something stealthy from the Tollans themselves, use that, and then put it back before anyone noticed. Phasing would make killing one man trivially easy."

"Then what happens to his fleet?"

"Don't know. How good an actor is Skaara?"

"Not good enough to pretend to be Klorel."

"Good enough to assign command to First Prime Roboneil and then retire to his quarters?"

General Hammond considers the suggestion. "After being a host for so long, I doubt it. Not without time to prepare. And our understanding of how to remove goa'uld isn't good enough to guarantee that Klorel was gone."

"Mine is, but, very well. Why do the Tollan even want Klorel?"

"They're debating the morality of freeing Skaara."

I frown. "I.. don't understand. I have a use for Klorel, but why wouldn't they just kill him if they can do it without harming Skaara?"

Off to my left, Colonel Cromwell can't quite suppress a smile.

"They.. have a procedure to follow."

"Oh." I nod. "They're one of those civilisations. No wonder they lost their original homeworld." I stand up abruptly. "Well, come on. No sense in delaying further. The sooner I'm in place the sooner Apophis gets his."

General Hammond frowns. "Gets his what?"

"Huh." I frown back. "I never really considered it. His just deserts, presumably."

He nods, then turns to Colonel Cromwell. "Colonel, take Lord Mammon through the gate and give him every assistance. Killing Apophis would make all our lives a good deal easier."

"Yes sir."

I smile at him. "Thank you. Oh, but while I'm here… You haven't been able to get that legal opinion updated, have you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
14:22 GMT -5

It's been a while since I've been down here. The subterranean part of the LexCorp building where I first met Enginehead. I wouldn't say that it's unrecognisable, exactly, but I think that some modifications were made after we bulldozed through the place fighting the Young Offenders.

Certainly, there wasn't a team of A.I. specialists and network engineers down here last time.

"…reinitialise based on an earlier backup." A stereotypical scientist in LexCorp overalls gestures at a partially disassembled server rack. "But with a system like this-."

"Don't be absurd." A surprisingly muscular man with a neatly trimmed goatee shakes his head with a dismissive huff. "All that will do is destabilise the network completely."

The scientist looks at him with a frown. "What exactly are your qualifications for working on this? Who even are you?"

He squares up to the smaller man. "I'm a better-." Something appears to occur to him as I get closer. "I see. Yes, I suppose-." He relaxes, making a point of slumping his shoulders in a way I've seen Superman do when in Clark Kent mode. "I'm sorry. Enginehead is a friend of mine. My concern for his health has left me with a short temper."

"Alright." The other man shrugs. "But I'm one of the world's leading experts on A.I. and I've got not idea who you are. And I've read everything on A.I. that's ever been published."

"Doctor Joel Cochin." He smiles, holding out his right hand. "LexCorp Special Projects. We don't publish much."

The scientist frowns a little, but shakes his hand anyway. "You're an A.I. specialist?"

"Technically, I'm a xenotechnology specialist. But since every alien civilisation we've encountered has used computer systems more advanced than ours, I've developed more than a passing familiarity with the subject. Of course…" He half-turns as Mr. Luthor and I approach. "I imagine that Orange Lantern's familiarity with alien technology outstrips mine by an order of magnitude."

I nod. "Yes, but only as a user. I'm sure that your understanding of how they actually work outstrips mine."

That's a little irritating. If I'd realised that someone on Mr. Luthor's staff was enlightened then I'd have tried recruiting them. Or at least hired them to help me with training. As it is, someone working in something called 'Special Projects' has probably been involved in enough dodgy things that would make me cautious to employ him; nothing about being enlightened requires you to be a good person.

Case in point: me.

Dr. Cochin hesitates, thinking his reply over before giving it. "Perhaps. Has Mister Luthor explained the problem to you?"

Mr. Luthor gives his team an encouraging smile. "I thought that I would leave that to specialists."

The scientist nods. "This is Enginehead's main server. Where his mind-. No, that's not right. It's his brain; the physical structure plays too big a part in how he thinks for us to just say that he exist on it."

"Okay, makes sense so far."

"And because he isn't a being of pure data, he can't just… Extend himself into the internet, or… Any of that other science fiction nonsense."

The silent 'as far as we know' looms large over that sentence.

"So what happened on the twenty eighth?"

"In order to improve efficiency, Enginehead has… Terminals, with ultra-high bandwidth connections to his servers, at several LexCorp facilities. Anywhere that needs high-volume data processing, basically. And that obviously includes Market Analysis. The gang who broke in had some very sophisticated anti A.I. devices…"

He looks over at another desk where various pieces of computer equipment are laid out.

"And a device that… We think was supposed to download data from Enginehead's core consciousness."

"What else could it be?"

"It could be attempted murder. Like pouring acid on someone's brain."

"And why can't you tell?"

He points to-. Ah.

Blackened, burned and melted. Parts of the board are still there, and the slag that used to be something electronics-related.

"A self-destruct?"

"It could just have been a blowtorch. Though according to the police, none of the attackers had one on them when they were arrested."

Hm. "Plasma weapons?"

He considers the defunct device, then shrugs. Dr. Cochin on the other hand shakes his head. "No. Plasma bolts tend to spall on impact as the plasma breaches containment. Those are too focused. The lack of thermite residue suggests a blowtorch more than a self-destruct device to me, but there are ways to avoid leaving evidence."

"And then there's the possibility that this was planted."

"Oh?" Mr. Luthor raises his right eyebrow. "That seems like an unusual step. Is there something about this 'Anarky' we should be aware of?"

"Intense morality, intense conviction, contemptuous of vice… He'd be a good superhero -or cult leader- if he had a little more worldly experience. I was watching him before the Anti-Life attack, but he wasn't showing any signs of… Doing anything like this. Child superheroes who aren't aping their elders are very rare."

"I hope you don't consider kidnapping Enginehead to be a heroic act, Orange Lantern."

"That depends on what he was trying to achieve. And exactly what he'd caught LexCorp doing that set him off."

"And what do you mean by that?"

I raise my eyebrows, very slightly.

He shrugs, very slightly.

"Let us say that a person with absolutely no trust in authority found evidence that a… LexCorp employee, was doing something deeply immoral, if not outright illegal. For a normal person, the thing to do would be to take that information to the police, the press, or that employee's superior. But for someone who doesn't trust the authorities and is courageous and has a strong moral conviction, the thing to do is to take action themselves. I don't know what Enginehead knew-. Knows, but if you're looking for a motive, that's where I'd start. If no demands have been issued..?"

I raise my eyebrows fully, and he shakes his head.

"Then I suggest an internal review. None of what I know about him suggests that he'd be after money or scientific data, or that he'd attack someone he didn't consider morally culpable for something."

"I take it you were investigating the case already?"

I nod. "He performed a ritual to destroy his own written history, and that of the attackers. I suspect that he arranged for the attack as a distraction. Or because the equipment was too heavy for him to manage by himself. I've got some magicians trying to come up with a way to use it to track him."

"And Enginehead?" I shrug. "Your best guess?"

"He's intelligent, but 'intelligent child' intelligent, not 'genius' intelligent. There probably is a way to hack Enginehead like this conventionally, but my guess…" I wave my runestone over the equipment, and-.

Ah.

We look at the weak glow.

"Is magic."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
15:58 GMT

"…why anyone would want to get rid of their cutie mark?"

Rarity watches nervously as Sweetie Belle looks up Starlight Glimmer's equipment with fascinated dubiousness.

Starlight's eyes light up as she takes a breath, then she spots me ambling through the research laboratory and calms down a little.

"The exact relationship between special talents, cutie marks, and a pony's personal magics isn't something we know a lot about. Most ponies assume it works a particular way, but they can't prove it."

Sweetie switches her attention from the machine to Starlight herself. "What do you mean?"

"Hm." Starlight rests her right forehoof against her chin for a moment. "If you wanted to find out what a pony's special talent was, how would you do that?"

"I'd ask them."

"Okay, but what if they lied?"

"Um. Well… Why would they do that?"

Starlight points at me. "Grayven lied about his special talent to make a joke."

Sweetie looks at me for confirmation, and I nod. "Why?"

"Ah, because I use humour as a method for defusing social tension. My actual species doesn't have cutie marks, so it doesn't have the same significance for me as it does for ponies." She looks a bit blank. "It's more like a tattoo than a major life indicator."

Sweetie frowns. "What's a tattoo?"

Rarity's eyes widen, and she urgently trots closer.

"A tattoo is where you inject ink-."

"A-bup-bup-bup." Rarity gives me a mild glare as she covers Sweetie's ears with her forehooves. "That's quite enough."

Starlight gives her a hard look. "That's exactly the attitude that stops us learning anything."

Sweetie ducks her head and brushes her sister's hooves off. "Okay, well, I could look at their cutie mark."

I gesture to Rarity's haunches with my right forehoof. "If you looked at Rarity's cutie mark, you'd think that her special talent was gem carving. Or that Cherilee could grow nice flowers."

Starlight frowns at Rarity in puzzlement. "Oh, I… Thought that too. What is your special talent?"

"I have an instinct for creating exactly the right ensembles to reveal a pony's hidden beauty."

Hm. "I was wondering. Does that just apply to dresses, or clothes, or is it in general and you just prefer dresses?"

"I…" She looks thoughtful. "Ah..? I do find it easier to express my talent through dress-making, but when I make suits for Spike or when I arrange a showing…" She nods decisively. "Yes, I do believe that it applies generally. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough time to learn all the ways that a pony can shine, much less actually put them into practice."

Starlight nods. "A lot of cutie marks are metaphorical rather than literal. It my case it's fairly obvious that my talent is something to do with magic, but with Grayven unless you knew what a fasces is, it just looks like an axe and some sticks and suggests that his talent might be chopping wood."

"Huh. Well then… I guess I could get them to try a bunch of different things and see what they're good at. That's what the Crusaders do."

Starlight blinks. "The what?"

Rarity sighs. "The 'Cutie Mark Crusaders'. Sweetie Belle and her friends Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. They are the last in their class at school to get their marks and they're rather self-conscious about it."

"So..?"

Sweetie Belle adopts a stubborn posture. "So our marks must be for something we haven't done yet. We think that if we try enough things, we'll have to find out what our talents are."

Starlight looks unconvinced. "I think a meta-analysis might work better, but I guess it gets you out of the house."

Sweetie blinks. "A meta-what?"

"Meta-analysis. Rather than trying something new, you look at all the things you've already tried and see if there are any trends."

Sweetie looks disgruntled for a moment. "None of them worked."

"No, but… Say, in my case, I tried a series of different activities, but I always used magic, or tried to do things better by using magic I invented, that would suggest that my talent was magic-related."

Sweetie sits, her brow furrowed in thought. "Huuuuuuh."

"Ooh." I perk up. "I've been meaning to ask: if you work out what a unmarked pony's talent is, is it heresy to tell them?"

Starlight looks a little puzzled. "Not exactly, but usually if it's that obvious then they've worked it out for themselves and gotten their mark. Otherwise you're just guessing, and the worst that can happen is that you put them off for a little while because they don't want to listen to you."

"Okay, but what if they're really obtuse?"

Rarity blinks, works out where I'm going, and frowns at me.

"So…" Sweetie is frowning at the floor. "If… Apple Bloom builds things we need for trying things, then… Her talent might be building things?"

I smile at Rarity.

"And… Scootaloo moves things around using her scooter when we need to go somewhere, so maybe that's her special talent? But she's always done that." She looks up at Starlight. "Shouldn't she have her cutie mark by now?"

"Getting a cutie mark isn't just about using a talent. I used magic for years before getting my cutie mark. It-. It's about realising the importance of your talent in your life."

Goodness me. Those public relations lessons have really paid off. Even a few months ago she's have delivered a rather irate lecture if someone said something like-

"At least, that's how it's traditionally understood."

-that. Ah, here we go.

Starlight starts pacing. "The truth is that we don't understand the exact mechanisms which cause cutie mark manifestations. Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer and I all have similar special talents and… Even our names are similar. But our cutie marks are completely different."

She takes a breath to carry on, then hesitates and looks at me. I make a 'slowly lowering hoof' gesture which I hope she takes as meaning that she should truncate her usual rant for her current audience. She nods.

Sweetie Belle frowns. "So her name's 'Scootaloo', and she scooters everywhere all the time… But she doesn't realise how important scootering is to her?"

Starlight thinks for a moment. "Ah, I don't know her, but that's certainly possible. It fits what we know about the process."

"Huh." She thinks for a moment, then nods slowly. "I guess that could happen. So what about me?"

I shrug. "I'm afraid that I don't know you well enough, though I imagine that the ponies closest to you have an idea."

"You mean..?" She turns to look at her sister. "Rarity? Do you know what my special talent is?"

Rarity recoils slightly. "Well… Ah… I… Have suspicions."

"Since when?"

"A… While. But Sweetie-."

Sweetie Belle looks a little hurt. "Before we started crusading, or after?"

Rarity regards her nervously for a moment, then glares at me and Starlight.

"Rarity?"

"A… Little while before."

"So… With the crusade… We're just totally wasting our time… And you knew that."

"I wouldn't put it quite like that, Sweetie-."

Sweetie Belle stands up and walks towards the door. "I'm going outside. I think I need some air."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
14:39 GMT -5

"Huh." Ambrose waves a hand over the server. "Looks broken to me."

Dr. Cochin rolls his eyes. "If you feel unable to offer your services -even at LexCorps' expedited service rates- then please just say so. There are other magicians we can call upon, but please consider that they aren't familiar with the spells and that would leave Enginehead in Anarky's hands for longer."

Mr. Bierce shrugs. "You use anything magical making him?"

"I wasn't involved..?"

He turns to the lead researcher, a man who somehow became a legitimate scientist despite his parents christening him 'Rigoro Mortis'. I suppose that given that he works at LexCorp it's really only a matter of time.

Ring, add him to the watch list.

Compliance.

Dr. Mortis shakes his head. "No, no magic. Not in his construction. We added some basic… 'Ward' signs to the casing specifically to prevent things like this."

"Normally, I'd roll my eyes, but Paul says that the ones you put on your paper is pretty effective."

"Actually." I frown, looking at Mr. Bierce. "Would those wards stop the record erasure spell?"

He looks extremely sceptical. "Working off background energy they absorb versus someone actually casting a spell? Where they can just power it up as much as they want, without anyone picking up on it? Wouldn't have thought so, but I suppose you could check."

I nod. "Doctor Mortis, are you able to show us the design? Please bear in mind that I'm literally incapable of using magic, have a better one tattooed onto my skin and I've already seen the paper version."

He gives me a faint frown. "I don't know why you felt obliged to add those justifications. We're cooperating on recovering Enginehead."

"Ah… Lex.. Luthor.. doesn't have the best relationship with Superman, and through him the rest of the Justice League. We're cooperating more closely at the moment because human civilisation is more important, but I know perfectly well that he is getting upset about how much power the League has over the reconstruction… I'm not sure how much you're allowed to share."

"Look, I don't make policy decisions." He shakes his head. "Whatever's going on with the League and.. Mister Luthor, it's no concern of mine. And it's-."

Dr. Cochin snorts quietly.

"It's pronounced 'Mortice'. My grandparents got it changed at Ellis Island."

"I apologise, and will pronounce it correctly henceforth. And your first name is 'Rigoro'?"

"Rheegooro."

Dr. Cochin hums quietly as he calls up the design on the work station.

"What's that? Vodun? You didn't keep working with Papa Midnite, did you?"

"The outline is based on vodun practices using more modern symbolism. The evocation of more modern forms of power."

"Did the computer at the office have the same thing?"

Dr. Rigoro nods. "Yes, of course. They're all part of the same system. If we didn't ward everything, we might as well have not bothered."

Mr. Bierce points. "Found your problem, then. 'Communication' and 'knowledge'."

"Enginehead is a synthetic intelligence. Why would that be a problem?"

I nod. "Because you've created a ward that as a core part of its design wants to allow communication. Do you have a wizard checking these regularly?"

"No."

Mr. Bierce sucks in air through his teeth, in a way which suggests that while the mechanic can make the repairs, buying a new vehicle might be cheaper.

"Can you trace it?"

"Not a chance." He points to a series of glyphs. "This is good work, actually. You stuck a golden eagle in there?"

Dr. Rigoro nods. "Yes."

"Did it melt?"

"No. All of them were exactly as they were before the event happened."

Mr. Bierce sighs. "Yeah. The boy's clever. If he just overpowered the ward, they'd probably have melted. High end correspondence ritual." He looks at me. "How intelligent is this boy?"

"Above average, but not super-intelligent. He shouldn't have been able to use super-intuition or anything like that."

"So either he read the same spell book you did, or he got a picture from someone on the inside." He snorts. "No prizes for guessing which is most likely."

Dr. Rigoro pales. "Someone on..? The development team?"

"Or an I.T. technician, or a welder, or someone in logistics. Heck, if he asked someone while they were still Anti-Lifed, I don't think even Mister Luthor could really blame them. Or… Well, how much about how Enginehead was made was authorised for publication? He is intelligent enough to understand a technical document above his level."

He nods. "I'll… Have to notify Mister Beatty anyway."

I nod. "When you do, please ask if we can get permission for some magicians to join the investigation."

"Someone like.. Doctor Mist or Zatara?"

"Gosh no. They've got important things to do. We met a man in Los Angeles who specialises in this sort of thing. The alternative…"

I could ask Hephaestaean. This is his domain, and asking your patrons for stuff is acceptable Hellenistic practice. But that could cause all sorts of arcane spill over. No. I'll give Mr. Levi a chance to work his magic first.

"The alternative?"

I shake my head. "Sorry. There are a few places I should check for mundane clues. Let me know when you've got permission and I'll pick him and his equipment up."

I raise my left hand to my forehead,

step out

and appear in Gotham over what was once the Machin family home. It's actually on the outskirts, so that the estate agent advert probably doesn't mention Gotham at all. Garden was neat, interior decoration was warm and welcoming.

A nice place to grow up.

Regular scan, sonic imaging, thermal and magnetic… No, it's just what it looks like.

I nod to myself before transitioning to Washington D.C. and the Monument therein. In the comics he built a base underneath it, so I send a few probes into the ground, digging and sending out ground-piercing radar pulses.

No, nothing here either.

Not much I can do now until Mr. Beatty gives the okay.

 

[Mr Zoat]

18th January 2000
00:27 GMT -5

"That's… One way to put it."

Why are they doing this?

"Technically, having not declared otherwise, My Queen and her allies and Underlords are neutral in the war between System Lord Apophis and System Lord Heru'ur. Prior to his death, Supreme System Lord Ra did not formally declared either his brother or his son to be his heir designate, so we don't feel any real obligation to pick a side." I glance at Zipacna and Klorel in the defence box, giving them a pseudo-apologetic smile and shrug. "Which means that by goa'uld standards, letting them fight it out is perfectly reasonable."

They scowl back.

I stand in the witness box in front of the three… Participants? Judges? And try and work out why they're bothering to ask me these patently ridiculous questions. What do they hope to learn that they don't already know?

And why the hell they made a nox the judge? Nothing says failure of volksgeist quite like having a trial of this sort on your planet with no members of your civilisation involved. They couldn't even muster the will to pass the buck properly!

Though this necklace they've given me is interesting. Apparently it shows whether the host or the symbiote is talking. I've scanned it entirely and will give a slightly more decorative version to Bastet for when her pregnancy advances. If I and a few courtiers can tell the moment she loses control, we'll be able to cover for her far better.

Zipacna flares his eyes as prepares to address me. "You use a host yourself."

I nod. "It would be rather difficult to converse if I did not."

"You do not see anything wrong with the practice."

"Ah… Sort of." He frowns. "My own host is a mindless clone. My Queen, System Lord Bastet, takes volunteer hosts for a year each, after which they join her priesthood. Being her host is a well respected role, but not one they're expected to take for their entire life. And while it is true that I do not have an instinctive revulsion to seeing humans -or other species- taken as hosts… Obviously, basic evolutionary biology has cultivated us as a species whose main way of interacting with the world is via our host bodies, obviously we don't feel weird about it… I am aware that there are… Certain social drawbacks to the default practice of taking one host and keeping them until they finally wear out."

Zipacna looks a little unhappy, and I suspect that he's actually very unhappy. And his hesitation gives Dr. Jackson the chance to jump in.

"Lord Mammon, why don't more goa'uld use clones hosts or trade hosts regularly?"

I shrug. "I can hardly speak for every goa'uld. I can tell you why I didn't, in the past, and I can make educated guesses if you like?"

He nods. "Please."

"Most humans in the universe live lives of hard physical labour. Individually, they're very replaceable to their overlords, while at the same time… Giving up their autonomy while still being able to experience a life of relative leisure isn't actually a terrible deal, even before you include the religious aspect. That, and the fact that their life is extended… After a century they're unlikely to have any living family to go back to and they will experience things they never would without becoming a host. As a result, it's usually possible to more or less come to terms with your host. It's not usually a one hundred percent adversarial relationship."

Colonel O'Neill glances aside. "'Usually.'"

"Er." I look around. "Do I answer his remarks..?"

Dr. Jackson nods. "How was it with yours hosts?"

"Ah… Going back a bit. My first host was an unas. Bit of a brute. My recollection is that as long as I kept his stomach filled and beat someone up every so often he didn't have any real complaints, but that might be the rose-tinted spectacles talking." Dr. Jackson frowns for an instant, then relaxes his face. "Then it was on to humans. I had three long-term hosts prior to this one. One treated it as a religious experience, one as a sort of theatre and the third went catatonic."

"'Catatonic'?"

"Yes. Just muttered incoherent gibberish for a few weeks after I took him and then sort of shut down." I shrug. "At the time I thought it was fairly convenient."

Something I'd learned from a combination of Mammon's own records and the records of other goa'uld.

"My main point is that while we're perfectly capable of cloning hosts, the effort isn't usually worth it. After a period of adjustment the host is usually alright about it, there's no loss to the goa'uld's realm and it's convenient. Cloning a host takes dedicated equipment, constant oversight by a goa'uld due to most humans being uneducated peasants, and requires the goa'uld to learn to control its brain without being able to co-opt the schematic systems of the existing occupant. If you'd suggested it to old-me, I'd-. Well, I'd have slain you for your insolence, but if I'd actually thought about it I imagine that I'd have shrugged and said, 'I could, but why bother?'."

"Could you clone a body for Klorel?"

I nod. "Easily. As long as he doesn't want anything special, I can have it done inside an hour."

Inside a few seconds, actually, but I have to consider how quickly it could be done with actual goa'uld technology. The sort of thing no actual goa'uld have ever built, but probably could if they wanted to.

"That…" Dr. Jackson turns to the nox running things. "Is a compromise we're happy to make."

"I mean, someone will have to pay me for it. Or I imagine the Tollan-"

Klorel's eyes glow. "No."

"-could do it for you. Probably for free."

"This body is mine."

I smile at the nox. "Did anyone get around to telling you that repeated sarcophagus use causes brain lesions and paranoia? Perhaps Lord Klorel should not conduct his own defence?"

She looks stricken. "It does?"

I nod. "Eventually. Perfectly fixable if you know what you're looking for, but everyone sort of assumes that Lord Telchak's work is flawless because it's too useful not to."

Zipacna frowns. "I have seen no evidence of this."

I shrug. "Tollan medical scanners can probably pick it up in both of you. I repaired my own already if you need a 'clean' image." I turn my head towards Colonel O'Neill. "Might be a good idea for Skaara too."

The nox nods. "We will recess while a medical investigation is performs on Klorel and Skaara." Klorel looks mulish, but glances at Zipacna. Zipacna nods, so Klorel bites down his complaint. "And Mammon."

I nod, and move to stand.

"And Zipacna."

That gets a reaction. He certainly thinks about complaining, but looks at me first. I smile harmlessly, and he weighs thinks up before deciding that it's better to go along with it.

Hm. "Thinking about it, since the Tollan have a way to remove a goa'uld safely… Well, the best way for you to find out what it's like is to try it. That way you could weigh things up based on personal experience."

The nox woman doesn't exactly look enthusiastic. "Do you want to join with me?"

I shrug. "I'm not exactly a representative sample, but if you like. We have two other potential partners here, or I could ask one of my fellow Underlords to volunteer. I'm not sure if a goa'uld has ever had a nox host; it could be an interesting experience for both parties."

Zipacna looks curious for a moment, then his eyes dip and that interest fades. Klorel on the other hand looks disgusted.

"I have no interest in becoming whatever you are."

She nods absent-mindedly. "Then I will join with Mammon. We will reconvene when the scans are complete."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
14:58 GMT -5

"Ready?"

Dr. Rigoro has stood well back while Mr. Levi, Mr. Bierce and Dr. Cochin put together… Something. It-.

"That would have been faster if you'd just leant me the ring."

Dr. Cochin looks mildly put out, though at least he only raised it once.

"Orange rings cause mental degradation, and I haven't done a background check on you."

"Surely not for the few seconds it would take. And it's not as if I can just run away with it, not with you having more experience and the other ring."

"Dr. Cochin, if you want to apply to the Orange Lantern Corps then you are free to do so. But I don't need any further assistance with this Sector, so you'd be obliged to work in the Reach Periphery. That is to say, a war zone covering a measurably percentage of the volume of this galaxy. Now, if we may return to the matter at hand?"

Mr. Bierce gives the assemblage one last check, then nods to himself. "I wasn't quite sure how to make this thing work. Then I remembered that you freed Metis when you had that fight with Zeus-."

Dr. Cochin blinks heavily, staring at me. "You..? What?"

"I wound Zeus up until he broke guest rights, then got saved by Hephestaean who proceeded to beat the stuffing out of him. Which included cracking his skull and releasing Metis. Which means that he's only got his own wisdom to draw upon, but should make the human species a little more intelligent."

He takes a moment to absorb that. "That superhero in Massachusetts-. That's Zeus-Zeus."

"It's his sole avatar, with a lot of his power bound until he gets a degree in meteorology. I haven't looked into exactly how it works."

"I will have to make time to speak with him. The things I could learn…"

I raise my left eyebrow. "You didn't do a keg stand in university?"

"Freed Metis, which means that a charm and a prayer to her allows us to grant that dust wisp a degree of intelligence."

I frown. "How much intelligence? Because this whole-."

Mr. Levi shakes his head. "It's more like a natural language interface. It's got a taste for Anarky's form, so it's naturally drawn to him."

"Through his wards?"

"This works indirectly. You might be able to dodge it, and…" He considers for a moment. "Some highly capable magicians could, at a cost. But he's a shape in the world even if we can't directly observe him, and this resonates with that."

"Okay, fire it up. I'll go there and-."

"I.. think that I should accompany you."

I imagine that Mr. Luthor has given some sort of instruction about how making contact with Lonnie should be handled. But I'm not inclined to acquiesce. And the nice thing is: I don't need to. I'm doing this under Justice League authority, and he's just a private citizen.

"I don't think-."

"Now, I understand that you're not keen, but I can handle myself if things turn violent."

"That's not why."

"Ah." He bows his head slightly. "I merely wish to be on hand immediately in case Enginehead or his components need work done to maintain them. You lack the expertise."

"Are you a wizard as well as a computer scientist? Because-."

"I dabble. And there isn't much crossover between the disciplines."

"Mister Levi?"

"I don't know A.I., and I don't know Enginehead's systems. Sorry. Ah, and I'm not that good at fighting."

I discount Dr. Rigoro immediately. He might know the systems better than anyone, but he's about as muscular as an I.T. professional who has risen far enough that they have people to lift printers for them.

"Alright. One moment. Please run the program while I call in backup." He nods, Mr. Bierce raises his hands, and a moment later a familiar dust cloud rises around the hologram projector. I raise my right hand to my ear as the program executes. "Orange Lantern to Blitzen, not that one and not that one."

"Hallo? Orange Lantern?"

"If you're not busy, I've got a lead on Anarky's location."

"No, no. We finished being told that they want lawyers, unt I was getting to know the Blue Lantern. But the safety of a child has priority. Where do you want me?"

Dust congeals around the hologram in a single point, then the computer detects that and narrows it down further. And again, and again. Looks like…

"Looks like… Detroit?"

"Ah, the major manufacturing centre. Perhaps he wanted to use the dense population to hide in."

"Um. Is that what Detroit is on your Earth?"

"It isn't here?"

"It… Was. Ah. Then… Various things happened and it's been in a nose dive ever since. Low fatalities during the Anti-Life due to pre-existing misery. Plenty of abandoned manufacturing sites to hide things in. Want me to pick you up?"

"No, I will just run. Oh, unt what did you mean, 'not that one'?"

"Hm? Oh, on this Earth, Valerie Kameya uses the name. And then there's the reindeer. And there's a guy called Black Lightning, but that's in English."

"Hm. On the route now. Do you have a precise address?"

I glance at the hologram, and see that it's narrowed it down to-.

"Oh dear."

"Is it a hospital?"

"No. Ah."

I connect a filament to Dr. Cochin and transition us to a mostly-intact bus stop in Detroit before transitioning to Johanna and accelerating after her.

"The Justice League has various locations where they store things, or backup sites that could be used as bases of operation."

"Anarky found one?"

"It was mothballed, but… Yes."

"Does it have defences?"

"I don't think so. It shouldn't, anyway."

"It is good that it will keep us on our toes."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
18:13 GMT

The guard opens the door for me, opens his mouth to announce me, then sees who he'd be announcing me to and stops, his mouth hanging open.

I walk up behind him and slide him out of the way with my right foreleg before proceeding into the room.

"Close your mouth, turn around, walk out." Above Your Pay Grade

"Yessir."

I smile at the assembled royalty: Celestia sitting on a love seat with King Sombra, Egyptian Celestia and Luna on settees that have been carried in from somewhere and don't quite fit in with everything else.

"Thank you all for agreeing to meet with me."

Celestia smiles. "Luna said that you have a matter of great importance to discuss with us."

"Yes. I want to take a closer look at your brain."

Celestia's head tilts slightly to the side, and her mouth hanging open a little. "A-h..?"

"Your brain. It's the organ inside your skull that lets you think."

"I… Thought that you were going to ask something else."

I blink. "What?"

King Sombra smiles. "She thought that you were going to tell us that you were getting married to your Princess Luna."

"Oh. Ah, no." I sigh. "Man, I wish. Unfortunately, my father hasn't tripped down the stairs and broken his neck, so our marriage plans are on indefinite hold."

Egyptian Luna frowns. "Is that how your people usually do things?"

Luna's voice with modern diction. I'm glad that it's that easy to tell them apart.

"No. But my father is a total monster and I don't have a reliable way to prevent him… Can you imagine something that the opposite of the Elements of Harmony? Where you get a group of living misery broadcasters together and hollow out all of the target's capacity for joy and hope and kindness and… So on?"

"Perhaps…"

"That's what my father does just by standing there. He's really good at it, and I'm pretty sure that me marrying Luna would set him off. So, your brai-."

Egyptian Celestia looks puzzled. "Are you hiding from him?"

"No, he knows where I am, which is Earth. He-. I think he's leaving me alone because he's curious how I escaped the first time and wants to see what I'm going to do. And probably to wind up my brother Kalibak. But the moment I make it clear that I'm not taking him into account with my actions, I'm pretty confident that he'll escalate. Last time he did… It wasn't pleasant. That was at least part of the reason I came here the first time."

"Does he know about Equestria?" / "Does he know about Equestria?"

Both Celestia's ask at the same time, and I smile. "I don't.. think so, but that's more an assumption based on the fact that he hasn't tried ruining Equestria than any knowledge I've derived from actual evidence. Any assistance you're able to provide in killing him would be greatly appreciated, but if we could return to the subject of why I'm here..?"

The local Celestia nods. "Our brains. The organs which we use to think."

"I'm worried about them."

She smiles faintly. "I hope you don't want us to give them to you for safe keeping."

"I'm worried that the equine brain isn't designed to cope with the sort of span an alicorn can live. I'm worried that you can't retain a thousand plus years of memories, and that that might cause… Problems."

The Celestia who knows me better takes a deep breath. "I wasn't aware that you were so worried about me."

I frown. "If you weren't aware, why were you planning on abdicating in favour of Twilight? I sort of assumed that you were worried too, and that was why."

Egyptian Celestia jerks her head around to stare at her doppelgänger. "You're abdicating?"

Celestia smiles, reaching out to Sombra with her left forehoof. He takes it with both of his in what is probably a romantic gesture but just looks awkward without hands. "Yes. I originally planned to travel the world with Luna and reconnect after our separation, but with Grayven and Sombra our plans changed."

I give her a stern looks. "Your plans changed. Please don't assume that you can plan for Luna without talking to her first."

Egyptian Luna snorts. "Does your Celestia still do that? I finally broke mine of the habit nine hundred years ago."

Celestia looks at Egyptian curiously, while her alter ego awkwardly ducks under her head. "You had to bring that up."

"I was complimenting you. It only took you a hundred and twenty years, but eventually you remembered that we were supposed to plan things together." Then she ducks her head too. "Though I have nothing but regret for the things we planned together, it was nice to be included."

Oh yeah, she was evil, wasn't she? By default, not as the result of a psychotic break. But we're getting off topic.

"I don't really know what a brain looks like when it can't keep up with the data it's been fed. Usually, very long lived species like mine have their own mechanisms for coping with it. But there are a few people who extend their own lives a long time, and not being able to remember large parts of their own lives is fairly common."

I thought that the momentary flashes Vandal Savage gave me was a problem with my own ability to retain his memories. But as far as the interstellar records I've been able to access suggest, that was how he remembered his own life. He'd just go to a place he didn't remember visiting and things would start to come back to him in headache-inducing flashes.

Celestia looks at me dubiously. "And you think that you can improve our memories by changing our brains?"

"Sort of. Firstly, I'd like to check that it's actually happening, which would involve getting a few experts together to study your thought processes. My first idea was to give you quantum wafer memory expansion implants, but those are really only designed for holding data, not for being part of your normal thought processes."

"I don't have any problem like that." King Sombra shrugs. "I don't exactly have a brain."

"Huh?"

"I'm a manifested umbrum. My true form is a sort of magic construct, a spectral elemental body. I look a little like a changeling made of blown glass." He frowns thoughtfully. "I hadn't really thought about it before, but I suppose that my memories must be stored as a matrix of magic energy rather than… However brains normally store them."

I grin. "I thought something like that could work! This is ever better! If we can teach these three to do the same thing, then-."

Something-. Jerks, like-. Like the world goes sideways for a moment. Despite Luna's nudges I've only learned a little of pony magic, and my horns, wings and hooves are tingling. The Egyptian duo look similarly out of sorts, and just as puzzled by it as I feel.

Celestia on the other hand smiles. "Oh."

I frown. "What was that?"

"An ascension."

I frown deeper. "It wasn't like that when Sunset did it."

"Sunset is a mistress of thaumaturgy. That felt more like it was with Cadance and Twilight." She stands from her chair, Sombra following suit. "Shall we go and see who it is?"

1st May 2013
18:18 GMT

Rarity, Applejack, and Scootaloo's parents glare at me.

I try to look innocent.

"I swear, this wasn't me."

"Cutie Mark Crusaders Alicorn Princesses, yay!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st May 2013
15:03 GMT -5

"You are scanning?" Johanna frowns at me as we watch our target from a construct platform a mile up. "I thought that all Justice League sites were warded?"

"This one was mothballed before that upgrade became standard. As far as I can tell, I can scan all of it."

The Detroit base for the Justice League is a former apartment block, bought after the people who used to work here moved to places with actual jobs. Or went to prison. Or -on a slightly more morbid note- died. Acquiring the site was fairly cheap, and Batman sort of… Had the centre replaced with the base while the outer parts were rented out as low-cost apartments. Since occupancy is far less than 100%, the residents just assume that that part of the building is either empty, repurposed, or they just haven't met the people who live there.

"It is not the things that you can scan that are the problem."

"Quite."

Back when this place was still functional, Batman had someone pop by and check on it every so often to give the impression that there was someone using it. Now, it doesn't even have a zeta tube terminus. Huh. Given that there was some talk of on-shoring manufacturing after the Sheeda attack, it might be worth seeing about turning it back into apartments at some point.

"So what is there?"

"The generator is still there, but it should be out of fuel. The-."

"Do the lights still work?"

"Yes, it can draw on the power grid. Obviously, that's not good for stealth so the official best use guide is just to use that for regular household stuff." I look around. "Trying to power a hologram projector… Or the main computer like that would probably have caused a brownout or just melted the grid. Anyway, the generator is still there, the lights, wiring, armour panels… Anything that was too heavy or awkward to be worth moving."

"Telephone lines?"

"Still there." I sigh. "Okay, to be clear, I don't want to open with violence. He's-."

"Nine years old. The New Statesmen are not as nice as the Justice League, but even Leatherwing does not make a habit of beating small children."

"There are situations-. But, yes. And-."

She looks at me in surprise. "You do beat nine year olds?"

I shrug. "Citadelians leave the cloning cylinders physically adult, Kon and Mitchell are only a few years old, and I don't know how the Reachians age. And there are a handful of people who are just that evil, or acceptable collateral damage. But I don't make a habit of beating small children either."

She frowns, turning to face me. "And now I realise that I do not know much about what you do when you are not on Earth."

"I'll be happy to give you a tour later. Okay, since this is a covert site, we'll need to go in plain clothes."

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, let me just open my flash ring and change at superspeed."

"Can you actually do-?"

"No!" She gives me a shove. "That needs specially treated clothes! And I do not do naked in public!"

"Alright." Scan local clothing, pick something that doesn't make us look like homeless people but still somewhat matches, and change. "Now-."

"That was not an invitation!" She looks herself over. "Ug, I haven't worn a skirt since my manager got purged. It makes me feel like a housewife."

I smile, and offer her my right arm.

"What? Really?"

"Our cover story is that we're looking for an apartment."

"That's not a cover story. That's a cover sentence. If anyone speaks to us, I will be convincing. I have spent more time under cover than you have." She checks her shoes. "At least these are flat."

"Heading down in two, one, now."

We reappear in an unoccupied alley opposite the apartment building, and.. she does actually take my arm. And she leans into me, affecting relaxation and affection. She.. is better at that than me, though I imagine that's less as a result of training or experience and more about how she's had to live.

We cross the road at the level crossing and proceed to-. Ah. No key card reader or front desk, just the start of the corridors. So worse than Gotham cheap apartments.

"Picturesque."

She's smiling, and while she hasn't matched the local accent her natural German accent is entirely missing.

"It's in an improving location, honey."

I match her accent, patting her hand as we head to the concealed entrance. A complete waste of time as there's no one about, but I suppose that it works if there's a concealed camera that I can't detect. No one around, so it looks like we're wasting our theatrics. She's right about me not doing this very often, and I've… Never really asked her what a normal professional operation from the New Statesmen involved. Given traditional National Socialist attitudes to power and authority, I imagine that it was legally much simpler than the Justice League's relationship with national governments.

I get out the key as we approach the door, feigning putting it into the lock in favour of transmitting the 'open' commend to the system that actually controls the door. The resulting 'click' for the benefit of any listeners is mechanically generated by the mechanism, rather than by a lock that could theoretically be picked.

The door opens, with no physical sign that it's anything other than a normal door. And the corridor has exactly the same decoration as the corridors in the rest of the building, aside from being slightly dustier and less weathered.

Johanna lets go of me and strides ahead, looking for anything out of the ordinary. "This is it?"

I step through and close the door behind us. "This is security." I walk down the corridor and insert my key into the second door, the one marked 'maintenance'. "It has to look like a normal corridor, otherwise one person looking over someone's shoulder would ruin the whole thing."

"And let me guess: we slide into the base using a fireman's pole?"

I pull back the cupboard door, revealing a fireman's pole.

Johanna stares. "No."

"It's the emergency entrance. There's a lift, but the power's out. I can carry you down if you like?"

"No. Give me my uniform back. You can go down first."

I shrug, swapping her back into her uniform and donning my light power armour which should just about fit down the shaft. Then I step forward and extend probes downwards, finding… Nothing out of the expected. Okay, into the shaft and fly downwards… Automatic defences are off and receiving no power, systems are locked down, good…

I exit the bottom of the shaft, and…

Footprints in the dust.

Fresh ones.