With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
12:39 GMT -2

Calvin Durham is a decidedly unhappy-looking man.

"You got Black Manta a pardon, and now you want me to talk to him. Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm saying that since he's been pardoned, he can come and talk to you whenever he wants. He can't break into your house without breaking the law, and he can't attack your person or property without dying horribly, but there's legally nothing to stop him standing on the nearest public thoroughfare and waiting for you."

I bow my head slightly and rub my forehead.

"In all honesty, I thought that he wouldn't want to ever see you or Sha'lain'a again."

"But you knew he'd want to talk to Kaldur."

"Of course I knew he'd want to talk to Kaldur. Kaldur's his son. And yes-." I raise my hands to forestall his interruption. "I realise that you're the man who raised him. I've adopted several children myself. But Mister Hyde is alive and wants to be part of his son's life, something that isn't true of the natural relatives of my own children."

"Black Manta is a serial killer."

"And as his junior gunnery officer you killed how many people? Look, you benefited from the whole 'pardon' thing when you turned over a new leaf. If you're complaining about Hyde using the same law you did, one, that's pretty hypocritical, two, welcome to a monarchy."

"There's a difference in scale."

"Which is why you're not under suspended sentence of death like he is."

"I got pardoned because I risked my life to help Atlantis. He got pardoned because going after him was too much trouble!"

Ah… I nod. "Not inaccurate."

Okay, there's no point trying to play up the 'kidnapped his son' angle-.

Kidnapped his son. Kidnapped her daughter. No wonder Queen Clea gets on so well with him. Can't believe I didn't spot that one before now.

"So how exactly is it the same thing!?"

"Bluntly, because as important as your family drama is to you, it doesn't really matter to me. My interest is primarily in getting David Hyde working for me in a useful capacity. I didn't think he'd bother talking to you, but he's got his heart set on having it out with you verbally just once."

"And Kaldur?"

"He's going to try bonding with him. Which he wanted to do the moment he found out that he had a son."

"And if Kaldur tells him to get lost?"

"It's kind of hard to have father-son bonding time when one party isn't interested." Um. "Once that party is over the age of fifteen. Though, again, I'd be surprised if Kaldur has ever given you a hard time about your criminal record. In fact… If I remember correctly, he was rather proud of your service to Atlantis, so… Maybe Kaldur does tell him to get lost and that's all that happens."

"But he wants to talk to me first."

"He wants to talk to you and Sha'lain'a first. I… Got the impression that he hates her more than you. Because while you weren't the first time someone jumped ship or turned state's evidence on him, she was the first time someone did that while carrying his son."

"What the hell makes you think I'll let that happen?!"

I hold up my hands in a surrender gesture.

"I've told him I think it's a terrible idea and that it won't help his position at all, but he's been holding this in for seventeen years and I think that a single conversation is the least bad thing that could happen. I mean, isn't there anything you've wanted to say to him?"

"What, about his habit of riling up angry unemployed black men from dying cities with racist rhetoric and luring them into a life of crime?"

I nod. "Yes, that sort of thing. And maybe Sha'lain'a has something she wants to say about fully informed pre-coital consent. Or about how much and why she wants him to stay away from Kaldur. Look, he literally dies if he starts anything beyond a verbal row. This isn't going to ever exactly be fun, but.. it.. is going to happen."

"Pff." He shakes his head. "Shit. You're right, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Sorry." I shrug. "Like I said, I told him it was a bad idea."

"He wants to talk to both of us?"

"Yes."

"Together, or..?"

"Together. He's just going to be there on his own. Obviously it'll have to be somewhere where there's air. Though…" That's not a bad idea. "For efficiency, you might want to bring Kaldur along as well."

He frowns, then his face relaxes slightly as he considers the idea.

"You think that'll help?"

"I can't give unbiased advice to one party while I'm already involved with the other. But Kaldur loves you and his mother. Him being there is just about the only thing I can think of that might get Mister Hyde to rein himself in. Though… The negative side is that it might make Kaldur see that while his natural father is a violent mercenary, it might also make him see exactly how much Mister Hyde wanted to be his father from the start and remind him that I'm the first one to tell him that you weren't his natural father."

"If not for you, he could have gone his whole life not knowing."

"I didn't tell him because I wanted to make sure Mister Hyde could get a spare kidney, I told him because I think he has a right to know. It's not like Mister Hyde didn't know Kaldur was his son."

"How did he know that?"

Huh. Mr. Hyde can read and speak Atlantean Greek, but he doesn't have gills and doesn't know how to use Atlantean magic. In fact, as far as I know, none of his crew can pass as natives. I haven't really wanted to get more involved in his family drama than I absolutely have to so I haven't pressed him on the issue.

"If I had to guess, he knew roughly where the two of you lived and either sent someone or sent a drone to keep an eye on you. After he started working with Ocean Master he could easily have got one of his supporters to hang around. But that's just a guess; I only actually met the man a few months ago. Why don't you ask him?"

"You really think he'll answer me?"

"I can't think of any reason for him not to. He can't be prosecuted for any crimes committed in Atlantis prior to his pardon, so there's no reason for him to cover it up. That would sort of depend on the meeting involving adults discussing things rationally, rather than everyone screaming at each other."

He sighs.

"Fine. Where does he want to have this meet up?"

"He didn't say. Do you have a preference?"

He shrugs.

"I don't have any kind of life on the surface."

"I can lend you a meeting room in my base if you like. Or I can prevail upon him to pick somewhere sensible."

"If I'm asking Kaldur to come along, I should talk to him first."

I nod.

"I can open a portal to Mount Justice if you like. He shouldn't be busy at this time of day."

He considers for a moment, then nods.

"Yeah. I wouldn't mind seeing where Kaldur works, and I don't want to let Manta think about it."

Mother Box?

Ping.

A hush tube opens, and I gesture to it with my right hand.

"After you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
14:45 GMT

"Recognized, The Shade, Two Three."

The mild discomfort that comes from the zeta tube's illumination fades away in an instant, but long-accustomed habit causes me to mug for any potential observers. A blink, a stumble of a half-step and a tap of my cane against the deck plate as if reduced to feeling the location of the floor like a blind man.

"If it bothers you that much, why not just teleport?"

Though a sizable portion of the post-war period is a bit of a blur to me, I'm reasonably confident that I never met Blake before my induction into the League. Another recipient of Grayven's largesse, though in his case it involved less ecstatic joy and more a month-long recovery before he could speak without an Italian accent.

"I like having it announce me." I stroll towards the Justice League's round table, waving the head of my cane to Allen and getting a polite nod in return. "Acting as one's own compère is so gauche, but turning up unannounced..."

I shudder theatrically.

Though I suppose that if one is unusually bothered by gaucheness then one shouldn't take a seat amongst an ensemble dressed as circus strongmen and strongwomen. Every time I sit-

I sit.

-down in a suit I feel like I'm striking a blow for tailors everywhere.

As the other fag, Blake has the pleasure of occupying a seat next to me, which he duly does. Unlike most of our colleagues he hasn't assigned himself to any one city; I can well understand that he doesn't have any desire to return to the family manse when the entirety of said family are no longer with us. Rather, he's been working with Batman on tracking international criminal syndicates, flows of money-

And I admit I made a few rather rapid transfers myself after hearing that. Even brain damaged, he has a ferocious intellect.

- and where certain nefarious individuals who have eluded the law might be hiding themselves. He was also the one who got nominated to speak to me about my 'envelop all the evildoers in freezing blackness' approach to certain militant groups. Apparently it gives the wrong impression. I'm not.. honestly.. sure why. I knew Diana and Allen before joining the League, and I knew more about most other serving members than I do him. Not to say that he's bad company-.

Golden lights flare and golden motes of dust swirl as the other sensibly dressed League member makes an appearance. Zatara may not have the Helm of Fate since Grayven followed through on his offer of a mercy killing, but the Tower of Fate is still granting him access to its armoury and he's been taking the opportunity to 'tool up'. His jacket conceals knives that can wound anything; damn things even pinned me in place…

Alright, I could probably have gotten away if I went all out, but at levels of power I'm comfortable using around people with whom I wish to continue to interact… Pinned. A shadow attached to a solid by a knife.

His cape looks like the opera cape he used to wear save for being slightly larger. But it is in fact a protective artefact, able to ward off blows both corporeal and non. The amulet on a thong around his neck is another tool, one which I… Vaguely remember Kent Nelson using against me during my 'anti-social' period. I generally just mugged to the energy beams because the last thing I wanted was a Lord of Order deciding to try doing something that might actually affect me.

And I suppose it's faster than talking backwards.

He walks past the table and speaks briefly with Batman and Diana in hushed but urgent tones. I could eavesdrop, obviously, but I generally find that looking politely inquisitive at someone who isn't sharing is more effective and creates less ill-feeling. Something is occurring, and it's up to the doughty members of the Justice League to act in the interest of all that is good.

What fun!

And in my case to make sure that no one does anything terminally unfortunate. I used to think that keeping the mortal men and women of the League alive in a fire fight would be the difficult part. Then Diana challenged me to fight her 'using all of my power' and I observed Icon stand in place while a group of cultists shot him. It seems that people who are used to getting hurt learn how to dodge, and people who are used to being invulnerable…

Myself included. There's a reason why that knife caught me. And since I'm now a League member I'm obligated to keep myself alive as well.

Batman nods and Diana takes her seat while Zatara remains at the head of the table. Batman pulls a lever on his console and an image of… A young man in a startlingly generic super hero costume appears out of the ether. Very… Blue, with belts that look very nineties. A belt around his waist, two around his chest, and… He even has belts around his arms. It's almost a self-parody. Fortunately his feet don't appear to have been bound. From the cast of his face I deduce that he was dead when this was taken, though there's no obvious injury.

Across the table, Hawkman leans forwards.

"Why can't I see his face?"

"Magic." Zatara glances at the image. "Very powerful magic. Someone has gone to considerable effort to erase this man's identity."

That's odd. Though I've seen odder. I wasn't the Allies' only super powered operative in mainland Europe because I interact with magic in a remotely normal way.

I raise my right hand a little.

"You can't see his face?"

Zatara looks at me.

"You can?"

"Yes. I.. don't recognise him, but… Yes?"

I extend the shadow of the table we're sitting at, causing it to rise up in an approximation of the man's shape. Not quite… I lean left and right; I know that the image is in three dimensions but I'm only looking at it from one and since it doesn't create a shadow I can't get a feel for it that way, but…

Well, I was never an artist.

"Can you recognise that?"

Zatara shakes his head, then his eyes traverse the room to see if anyone else can. There don't appear to be any-.

Gardner grimaces, a glowing emerald mesh flying from his ring and surrounding my tenebrous construct. I have to make a little effort to hold it solid against a glowing object, a little more of the Shadowlands extruding into the World of Light. But it doesn't hurt and -if I'm honest- isn't even uncomfortable. It's more… A pressure. Distracting but… Ultimately not an issue.

At this level. I remember a time when Alan Scott shot a full intensity ray through a patch of shadow and took off my left forearm. I hadn't even known that was possible!

The new chaps are fine, I suppose. But you never forget your first Lantern.

"I'm gettin' nuthin'." Gardner allows his construct to fade away. "Someone else wanna try?"

Free holds out one of those marvellous toys of his, which twinkles prettily for a moment before fading. He shakes his head.

I smile pleasantly.

"Well, don't I feel special. How about…"

I allow most of the body to fade away, leaving just the upper portion of the head and a certain amount of shadowy skeleton as a support structure. I look around the table but I get the bad news when Marvel shakes his head.

Most inconvenient.

I wave what's left away.

"I assume that I'll be assisting Zatara with this one, then. What do we know of the corpus?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
09:56 GMT -5

Artemis hangs back slightly as Kaldur and Ixy conduct a tour of the facility.

"When are you gunna tell him?"

The drawback to being on the same wavelength as someone-.

"It's not a drawback. Ass."

I look down at her, slightly puzzled. Did-? She just-?

She rolls her eyes before looking up at me. "It's obvious. You got Black Manta pardoned. I know how people like him think. The first thing he's going to want to do is get his son back, and right after that-." Her eyes return to Mr. Durham. "I guess he can't kill the people he thinks wronged him, but he's gunna want to confront them."

"He does indeed. I haven't said anything because I don't want Mister Durham to feel like I'm pressuring him."

"Think that ship's sailed. I think you're just doing what you think-."

"Think I need to so I can tell myself I didn't pressure him." I smile fondly at her. "We can't ever do this around Luna."

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Staying above the fray wasn't an option. David Hyde has wanted to be Kaldur's father since he fathered him."

"Some people shouldn't be fathers."

True, but I can't say he'd be objectively bad. Any number of professional killers throughout history have had perfectly pleasant relationships with their offspring.

"How's Paula?"

"How's Jade?"

I shrug. "Her line manager's reports are glowing. The area she's assigned to is less dangerous month on month, in part due to her presence and actions. Genomorphs are good at keeping the peace but complex investigations aren't their forte."

"You aren't talking to her in person?"

"No. I'm not angry any more-"

"Well, yeah."

"-but.. I.. tend to think that we won't work… Well together. I mean, if we couldn't even communicate well.. enough… When we were together…"

Artemis nods. "I think she's dating someone."

I shrug. "That's hardly my affair any longer."

"Not Jade. My Mom."

"Oh? Not a complete surprise, I hope?"

"No. Why exactly did you make her look that young when you healed her?"

"Your mum's hot."

She smiles faintly.

"Speaking of things you shouldn't say around Luna…"

"Eh, Luna knows that I'm not interested in her for her physical appearance. And I've got a rough idea of what she'll look like when she comes through the mirror and I think I'll like it well enough. Do you have a problem with your mum dating?"

"Dating, no. Putting on a costume and fighting crime… Guess-"

"It beats committing it." / "-it beats… Yeah."

Bit of a surprise that she's interested in that sort of thing, but I suppose that when someone internalises the us versus them mindset then even if they switch sides they want to be them as hard as they can.

"Do you want me to offer her a job to keep her off the streets? I'm sure I can find something for a woman of her experience."

"Not going to offer to help find out who she's-." She narrows her eyes. "Do you know?"

"Artemis, you're over a hundred years old. If you want to know who your mother's dating-."

"Yeah, but-. Teenaged me wouldn't."

"Parents have to deal with their children growing up eventually. In your case-."

"I grew up when Mom was in prison. I know we were never going to have a normal family life or anything like that, but I wanna… Pretend a bit. For her. And for me."

"I'm the last person who would-."

Kaldur tenses, then breathes in deeply before letting his exhalation carry away his tension. Mr. Durham glances my way and says something I make an effort not to listen to, placing his right hand on his son's right shoulder. Kaldur nods and briefly puts his own right hand on top of his father's. Then he heads my way.

"Who would gainsay your decision on that subject. Kaldur!"

He walks towards me, his normal impassivity just about hanging in there.

"Grayven. What made you think that I would be interested in meeting Black Manta in a social setting?"

"The fact that I thought you'd probably be willing to put up with him once to help out your parents?" I shrug. "I don't think there's going to be any sort of meeting of minds or anything like that. I've already told him that I think it's a bad idea."

"You could simply have handed him over to Atlantis as a captured criminal."

"Kaldur, where exactly on Earth do you think I'm going to find crews for the EDF ships Lex is building?"

He pauses for a moment. "Any of the world's militaries would be able to provide you with trained personnel."

I shake my head. "Not trained for space combat. Underwater combat comes closest, but the pressure and inertia make it completely different. Same for aeroplanes and voidcraft. The skill sets aren't easily transferable. So we've got a choice between taking military people and beating the bad habits out of them or training new people in doctrines we haven't invented yet. If you ever want a good laugh I'll show you the low gravity training sessions we ran for some of N.A.T.O.'s special forces units. The skills aren't there."

"Except in Atlantis."

"Nope. Too much magic, not enough technology, and your war engines are all organic. David Hyde's people are trained for sub-aquatic, aquatic and aerial combat. They have the skills that other people simply don't. Earth needs them, and King Orin wouldn't have pardoned him if he didn't agree with me. And your part in Earth getting them involves letting him bitterly lament not being the man who raised you and then telling him to never darken your door again. I'm sure you'll survive. Though for what it's worth I'm sorry for putting you in this position."

Kaldur bows his head, half-closing his eyes for a moment.

"He has not been pardoned by the government of the United States of America."

"My home's an Apokoliptian embassy. So while no one other than me can arrest him, I could let you settle your differences through bare-knuckle boxing."

He-.

"That wasn't a serious suggestion, Kaldur."

If only because Apokoliptian duels are supposed to be handicapped affairs. Given Kaldur's enhanced physiology I'd have to give his father a weapon or two.

"Very well. I will accept the meeting. But… I would like more information on Luthor's recruitment strategy."

I nod. "No problem. Heck, if you can find-"

"Recognized, Zatara, one one, The Shade, two three."

We turn as the League members emerge, Giovanni giving me a nod and Richard tipping his hat.

"-someone better, I'll consider them."

Giovanni approaches, noting Mr. Durham's presence.

"Aqualad. I have a task for the team."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
07:12 GMT -8

I find myself pulling a face as I dock with the aesthetian and feel the slight pull as it connects with my ingestion hole. Perhaps I will be accustomed to it in time. Or perhaps I am too accustomed to my physical freedom to ever really get accustomed to something like this. Still, it is progress, and it is more… Respectful, than being thrown into a bucket of partially digested fish heads. Relaxing my face, I reach out with my mind for the neural interface made with the new types of synthetic flesh which are compatible with Un-Men…

**[Connect]**

At once the next texture and flavour of the air change as neural mechanisms which the-. That Anton Arcane considered superfluous to my design, connect to my brain. My innate capacity for the chemical analysis of air is usually limited to 'breathable', 'contains blood' and 'not breathable', but with a little help…

My brain can learn to do things that it was not designed to do.

With the connection in place the aesthetian… Since this is the final version I need to think of a name for it. It would not do to appear to be treating an Un-Man as an object after all, even if this is no more intelligent than a chipmunk. 'Bud' as in 'taste bud'? No, no, that makes it sound like a flower. Gus Tatory? Satisfactory, but I will check with Niko before I make it official. When you are a grotesque, your humour is grotesque. It does not always play well to others.

I tested it with crackers while I was experimenting with the design, but Grayven suggested I try toast for the first 'proper' meal. And suggested that the taste might kill me and then laughed about it. Niko suggested chocolate, but despite the safety mechanisms it might be better to be cautious. While not being so afraid of my own creation that I simply go along with Grayven's joke.

Gus's tentacles reach out and coat the first slice of toast in a very thin layer of butter, then cut it in half. The first half is delivered into the 'taste' receptacle directly, while the second is held up to my own mouth. It is a-.

I shudder as the feedback from Gus's taste nerves begins to reach me, unfamiliar.. feelings… I have known lipids since my first moment, but I feel that I have never known them at all until this moment. Butter! All of the animal instincts I have never had are delighted to be putting away fat for winter! The toast itself is a more complex sensation, but… Let us try texture!

I command the tentacle to bring the mouth half closer and bite. I have only basic sensation inside of my mouth, but I do have teeth and I do get pressure feedback to a surprisingly generous degree. I suspect that is because Arcane wanted me to know when I bit something rather than any sort of consideration for me, but between that and the taste… I will check with a computerized axial tomography scan later, but I think I am effectively receiving the sensation of eating toast as an unmodified man would.

Splendid!

Of course, the downside since I don't actually have an oesophagus…

I open my mouth a little wider, wadding as much of the chewed bread material into the front of my mouth as I can. A tentacle reaches down and scoops it up to deposit in the taste receptacle, where a moment later it gives a sudden jolt as the masticated food decays faster than the solid piece and gives the taste buds a more intense rush of chemicals.

My word.

There's a quiet knock on the door.

"Cranius? Are you..? Ah, decent?"

"Niko! Eh." I have the tentacle holding the toast to my mouth swiftly redirect it to the taste receptacle. Much as she is willing to embrace the strangeness that is a part of our nature I think that her stomach would still be turned by my chewing. "I am as decent as I am likely to get!"

She pushes her way into my workshop, computer tablet in hand. I am still not entirely comfortable with machines that can pretend to think, but I can appreciate the utility. She looks closely at Gus as she walks closer, then raises her eyebrows.

"How is it?"

"I have nozhing wizh which I could compare it. It is intense and it is novel, which is the most I could hope for. I… Zhink zhat tomorrow I will experiment with zhings ozher zhan toast."

"Chocolate?"

"Eh-h. I zhink baby steps for now."

Of course, I still have to actually ingest. It feels like the digestion process is ready, so I trigger the egestion system, and… I feel the same as usual. Perhaps a little tidier due to the fact that I now have a dedicated mechanism for fulfilling the purpose.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes?"

"You looked a little… Constipated, there."

"My dear, I don't have a bowel. Or a gut."

But I make an effort to control my expression. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

"I guess that's a novel experience for you too, then."

I close my pseudo sphincter and disconnect, rising up on my fingertips.

"Let us not go crazy."

I disconnect my mind from Gus, who folds up back into 'sleep' mode to minimise energy wastage until I need to eat again. Perhaps some fruit? I used the brain of a monkey as my guide when I designed his brain, so that should work well. Next, I call Otto over and have him pick me up and set me down between his shoulders.

"Who is on zhe slab today?"

"A seven year old boy named Klahan Saelim. He has terminal leukaemia."

Oh? Oh. A publicity job, then. Otto sighs for me as-.

"His parents have signed off on you giving him… Slightly visible improvements."

Ah… That's a little better. No, wait.

"Like tiger-stripe hair, or somezhing useful or significant?"

She taps her tablet. "They.. haven't specified. So there aren't any restrictions. Just remember-."

"Yes, yes. Nothing to scare zhe person doing zhe post-procedure interviews. I'm zhinking… Squid eyes, obviously, wizh the expanded visual range."

"Ah, if he can't navigate-."

"Yah yah, slightly expanded. I'm not going to make him see gamma radiation."

I learned that lesson after the third time. I thought it was pretty!

Niko looks like she doesn't completely believe me.

"Okay, I don't think there'll be any problem with getting them to accept perfect eyesight. Do you want to throw anything else in there?"

Yes. I want to give him dragon wings and scale-covered skin capable of resisting low calibre bullets and the ability to spit napalm. Don't 7 year old boys like dragons?

Ah, the dreams of a better tomorrow. I honestly had believed that the American military would be more enthusiastic about modifications that have combat applications, but it seems that if they do not allow the soldier to tear through sheet metal they have nearly as many reservations as the FDA.

The Department of Energy doesn't have that problem. Their agents are daring each other to be the first to get the electric eel discharge system.

"I zhink… I will see where the muse takes me. Wizhin bounds."

"Okay. After that, Crassus wants to talk to you about his synthetic skin project."

"He is still working well wizh zhe laboratory staff?"

"Ah… Yes, no recent report of any problems."

I smile.

"And after that-. Oh. We've got a booking for an emergency consultation. They… Haven't explained the nature of the problem, but they've only asked for two hours."

Ah, such is life. They will have paid well for the privilege, and perhaps they have dreams of something original?

A disembodied head can dream, can't he?

"Okay. Let us go and see zhe young man."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2006
11:28 GMT -5

Mr. Logan shakes his head in bewilderment.

"But, I mean, how does that even happen?"

I stop walking. The other Titans also stop walking, except Koriand'r who keeps flying for a few moments before realising that she's left everyone else behind.

"In Europe, we joke about American sex education, but I always-"

He's blushing purple.

"-assumed that it was just a j-."

"No! I know how it works. My parents were naturalists. But you're different species!"

I gesture to Miss Roth with both hands.

"This is Raven." I generate a construct image of her mother. "This is Angela Roth, her mother. The hundred metre-tall four-eyed demon we all saw last week was her father. How did you think that worked?"

"I dunno." He blinks, his gaze growing distant and his head tilting to the left. "And honestly? I kinda wish I wasn't trying to picture it right now."

Miss Roth squeezes her eyes shut. "Magic. It was magic."

"I dunno." Mr. Stone shrugs. "Ah mean, he could change his size-."

Miss Roth opens her eyes just enough to glare at him. "It. Was. Magic."

Koriand'r frowns, looking genuinely concerned.

"Friends, do you not understand the mechanisms of sexual intercourse?"

"Ah…"

"On Tamaran we are far more open about such things. I can explain the functions of men and women in great detail if you would like?"

I dismiss the construct and walk up the front steps of the manor house Komand'r and I recently purchased. We won't be moving in properly for a while due to all of the work needed to get it up to super vigilante specifications, but she wanted-.

She's in nesting mode. Do Tamaraneans do that?

I reach into my right front pocket to pull out my key, but the door bursts open and Komand'r flies out, hitting me in the chest and lifting me off the ground into the sky as she embraces me!

"Isn't it wonderful! I sat outside this morning and it was like there was no one else on the entire planet!"

Out of the corner of my eye I see Mr. Stone look confusedly between Koriand'r and Komand'r, then blink, then stare at Mr. Grayson with his eyebrows raised. It takes Mr. Grayson a moment to spot where Mr. Stone's gaze has ended up, but his frantic head-shaking does put a smile on my face.

I pull Komand'r close and kiss her, for a moment wishing that my ring was of any use for anything medical. I mean, I vaguely remember from the comics that Nightstar was perfectly healthy, but I haven't bothered making the sorts of contacts I'd need to cope with medical problems. Komand'r isn't vulnerable to human diseases and is very hard to hurt. The few time's she's been injured she's either ignored it or stuck a bandage over the cut for a few days.

"Komand'r, I've found-."

"Sister!"

Komand'r flies into Koriand'r, embracing her warmly. Koriand'r doesn't appear even slightly put off by that, even though their relationship since Komand'r arrived on Earth two and a half years ago might charitably be described as 'tense'.

…

Komand'r is the woman I love, but even inside my head 'one-sided bitchathon' feels more honest. She never got to the stage of siccing alien bounty hunters on her again, but I don't think she's spoken a civil word to her in the entire time.

"I am so happy to see you!"

"I am so happy to see you!"

Miss Roth sighs quietly. "Now there's two of them. Great."

"I have a tiny hat for you!"

Koriand'r reaches up and puts a top hat about the size of an egg cup on Komand'r's head. Komand'r goes cross eyed trying to see it, then reaches up with both hands to feel it instead.

She gasps.

"I love it! But-. Wait. This is-."

Koriand'r nods, grins, and offers Komand'r a… Small cake dripping with green… Something or other.

A bumble bee flies close to it, folds up and crashes to the ground in a fairly typical Earth reaction to Tamaranean food.

Komand'r blinks, turns her head away and then fires a blast from her eyes which freezes a small bush in an ice crystal.

She turns my way.

"How did this happen?!"

21st October 2005
10:23 GMT -5

"Why do you always put those things on?"

I frown inquisitively, and she rolls her eyes.

"Do you really think that because we're both humanoid you can get me pregnant? Because that's not how biology works."

"In medieval France there was a male religious order that got a group of female elementals pregnant. A being made of air and magic gave birth to a child. So yes, I think there's definitely a possibility."

She rolls her eyes harder.

"Even if that was true, that's magic and your ring just does blood." She pulls the packet out of my hand and tosses it aside. "So don't bother. I want to feel you finish this time."

"If… If you're sure..?"

21st January 2006
11:31 GMT -5

"Yes, but I didn't think you were serious!"

"Um. I was."

Komand'r looks… Shocked and a little scared.

"Ah..?"

I float closer and put my hands on her shoulders.

"Komand'r, I love you. We are financially secure and have no living enemies. This is as good a time as any."

And just like that the moment of hesitation never happened.

"Okay. We're having a kid." Her right hand darts out, grabs the cake Koriand'r offered her and shoves it into her mouth. "Wph aw?"

"Does X'Hal do weddings?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
10:34 GMT -6

"…contracts in place." I nod as on the other side of the screen Prime Minister Geoffrey Talbot continues reading through his summary. "We'd put it out to tender… But LexCorp doesn't have significant competition in the field, does it?"

I nod. "He isn't stopping other market participants competing. And the patents are publically available information."

"Oh, I'm not complaining. I used to be against 'green power'. I didn't think it was economically viable. Now that it is, my government will be making moves to switch over all of our infrastructure as quickly as possible."

I glance down at my copy of the report.

"I'm just astonished that the situation was allowed to get this bad. How hard is it to build a new power plant?"

He smiles wryly.

"About as hard as building a new airport runway. The greenies don't want anything that causes pollution and the conservatives don't want anything inefficient. It was always easier to put it off than take the hit to their popularity."

"Was it related to..?"

"No, nothing to do with those people as far as I can tell. Just normal political cowardice and malfeasance. Until we started getting brown outs no one was going to do anything."

"People would rather vote for a sweet shop owner than a doctor."

"All too true." He shakes his head. "I can still barely credit the fact that Boris wasn't involved."

"Would you invite him into a secret conspiracy?" He huffs and shakes his head. "What's he doing with himself now?"

"He got elected head of the Conservative and Unionist Party. Mostly by virtue of being the only Conservative left standing that anyone had heard of."

"He didn't jump ship? I'd have thought that the Reform Party would be right up his street."

"He said he thought about it, but decided that someone needed to work as the official Opposition."

"Was that before or after someone pointed out that he'd have to quit being mayor to become an MP?"

"Oh, he's not in Parliament. Technically speaking, the Conservative and Unionist Party is a new political party, and their rules don't demand that the party leader be a sitting MP."

"I suppose that -given how many MPs they're likely to have to the foreseeable future- that makes sense."

"Makes debating with the man a bit awkward. And it means that the senior opposition MP in Parliament is my constituency MP. I can debate with him by banging on the wall."

I smile at him.

"Sounds like a stitch-up to me-. Oh, that reminds me: Myand'r told me that Weaponer Lysis wants to give you a check up. Will there be a problem with her visiting?"

He gives me a mild frown.

"Wouldn't it be easier for me to go to her?"

"She wants to see you in your natural environment."

He chuckles darkly.

"I don't consider Number Ten to be my natural environment."

"You might want to start, because you could be there a while."

We expected for the left-leaning part of his coalition to drift away after the first General Election. But with the far left part going full socialist and joining the Socialist Labour Party, a surprisingly large portion of everyone else appears to have decided to remain with Reform for the time being because there isn't anywhere obvious for them to go to. So while Geoff is staying away from strongly partisan issues, he's using the surprising unity that his party still commands to deal with issues which -while divisive- don't divide along party lines.

I think he's trying to leave the country a better place for his having occupied the office by the time he renders himself unelectable. I also think he's underestimated the appeal of having a conspiracy-busting retired police officer who definitely wins the 'my head of government could beat up your head of government' arguments in power.

"Anything else we need to go over?"

"The EU's finally getting its head out of its arse about Kahndaq. Which means that Teth Adom can nominate a UN ambassador."

"Oh?"

Given that Adom firmly believes that a country should focus its efforts on its internal affairs, he's been completely untroubled by the fact that other countries are hostile to his one-man conquest of his home country. Banks don't want to lend him money? Fine. Why would he want to borrow money? Imports and exports are expensive? Fine. That just encourages local farming and industry. His reaction to other countries not liking him was '"And?"'. I sometimes get the feeling that Adom would be happiest if the rest of the world just sort of disappeared.

"France won't veto it, and the General Assembly won't try and block the appointment."

"I'll let him know. Any chance they'll help with repatriation?"

The government he slaughtered like the rabid dogs they used to be were heavily involved in slave trading. His government has tried sending as many people as possible back to their home countries, but there are a lot of unaccompanied or orphaned children and with Kahndaq currently uncountried various agencies who should be helping out aren't.

"That's a bit more dubious. Given how poor most of their countries of origin are, you're probably better off getting Luthor on the job. Have him have a word with their business development people."

A pleasant side effect of our work in Africa is that the 'supply' side of certain industries has dried up. There's enough honest work that for the first time in decades people aren't being driven to try to migrate to Europe for work. And that means that people traffickers and slavers are going out of business even if they manage to dodge the genomorphs.

"I'll give him a nudge. Nothing else pertinent to report on my end."

He nods.

"Right then. I'll see you at the next meeting."

"Prime Minister."

"Don't bloody remind me."

He presses a button, and the screen goes dead. I check the clock. Hm. Yes, she's probably back by now.

I get out of my chair.

Mother Box, hush tube to Sunset's laboratory.

Ping.

I step through to see Sunset working on her arcane modelling program. She glances around.

"Hey."

Looks promising.

"How'd it go with Celestia?"

She looks back around.

"It was… Informative? It was exactly the sort of lesson that if she'd given it to me before I left then I wouldn't have left. We didn't really… We just focused on the lesson. We didn't talk about anything else."

"But you managed to spend productive time in one another's company?"

"Yeah. I guess that's progress. Grayven, did you-" She swivels her chair around. "-suggest that to her?"

"Yes, of course I did. But she managed to carry it out without making a mess of it."

"By that low standard, good for her." She frowns. "But I thought you didn't want me to talk to her any more."

"I don't think things between you can be fixed, but on the off chance I'm wrong I'm happy to coach her on how to relate to you. I don't think she's a bad person, I just don't think you're right for each other." … "So to speak."

"Well… Thanks."

"And in the strategic review I highlighted the lack of other ponies to take over the day/night cycle as a key weakness, so getting you up to speed is good for the planet."

She looks unimpressed for a moment, but I see the rational side of her that I've tried to cultivate review the idea and realise that it's valid.

"Well. Still. Thanks."

I smile broadly. "You're welcome."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
16:38 GMT

I cut the connection to Grayven's mountain and sit back in my chair. Hard-etched instinct causes me to scan my office for threats, but there's no one here. Prime Ministers don't get a lot of time to themselves, but I generally chivvy people out for this sort of secure telephone call. Grayven's got an impressive network of contacts, but I rather imagine that he'd rather it didn't come to wider public attention.

MI5 is another matter. The secret squirrels we didn't get rid of are going out of their way to make themselves useful. Damn close thing between keeping them on and firing the whole lot of them and building a new intelligence service from scratch. But I don't like punishing people who didn't personally commit the crime, no matter what the back of my head's saying about guilt by association. That's not how Joint Enterprise works.

I don't feel bad about using the intelligence service to obtain information on him. I might have done, before Joanie. Now it's just clearly necessary. Anyone in power needs someone watching 'em, and I can't do that personally all of the time.

My desk phone rings and I pick it up. Back to the grind.

"Talbot."

"Prime Minister, you have a call from a Mister.. 'Doom'?" Ernest, my secretary. My actual secretary, as opposed to the civil service mandarins. "He's on the priority approved list, but-."

"Yes, yes, I know the man. He's a wizard. Put him through."

"Yes sir."

Good man, Ernest. Grandparents on both sides came over on the Windrush and put up with the terrible reception to make a life for themselves, he graduated with a First in Business Administration from LSE. And rather than go into industry with it he decided he'd rather work for the government. People like him are why I didn't just burn Downing Street down and piss on the ashes.

"Prime Minister."

"Mister Doom. Any trouble?"

"Perhaps. Several of my worldwide wards have been tripped."

"World wide?"

"That's not as significant as it sounds. The Earth's thaumosphere forms a natural boundary. Setting a spell to notify the caster when something crosses a boundary is a simple business. Setting them to notify the caster when something occurs within the boundary is only a little more taxing."

"Alright. What triggered it?"

"After a number of… Incidents in the recent past, I set a ward which would inform me if a locus of significant power suddenly became active. Loci.. in this instance referring to either an artefact or individual which had previously been inert. An artefact which could grant an individual tremendous power, an eldritch abomination breaking into the world or an ancient magician who had been hibernating."

"Is that common?"

"Common? No. Twice a decade, perhaps. We still don't know where Dracula is."

"Alright. Which is it?"

"I don't know. As I said, the ward simply alerts me to an event. I've been trying to scry the location of whatever it was for several hours, but I haven't been able to locate it. That implies either an object designed to conceal itself and its user, or a magician of considerable skill and finesse."

"The Justice League hasn't sent out an alert."

"Giovanni Zatara's skills are dissimilar to mine. He hasn't ever had to learn subtlety in the way that a jumped up street magician like myself has had to. And to be honest, 'something is happening, somewhere, probably' isn't much to go on. It might not even be a problem."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Not for a second. I'm going to keep looking, but you may wish to pass my alert on to them."

"Thank you. I will. Let me know if you make any progress."

"I will. Thank you, Prime Minister."

I put the phone down. Blast. Grayven didn't say anything, and he's usually fairly good about letting me know when something catastrophic is happening. Or when there's an advantage to be gained. Which means that he isn't aware of it.

I dial Jasmine's number. With a fairly limited number of experienced parliamentarians to draw on, the top government jobs more or less assigned themselves. She got the Home Office, which means that if things were running normally Doom would be phoning her. But they're not, and I haven't forgotten that she knew how bad things were and didn't try to raise the alarm until we forced her hand.

I don't think that life imprisonment without the possibility of parole is an appropriate punishment for moral weakness. But I'll be more content if she joins Boris once some of the new intake have a little experience under their belt.

"Prime Minister?"

"Cursitor Doom just contacted me." A light appears on my desk and I press the button that lets my entourage know that they can't come in just yet. "Apparently, something big and magical just activated and is now hiding itself. Please pass that along to the Justice League."

"Does he have any more details?"

"No, but he's going to keep looking."

"I'll have my department send out the alerts."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

I put the phone down, and then I dial Professor Larissa. It's nine in the morning over there so she should be awake but classes shouldn't have started just yet. Grayven gave me her number as an expert magic consultant, and I suspect that she has a little more oomph than Doom does. With that Sunset girl of his, he simply wouldn't trouble himself with her otherwise.

"Hello?"

"Professor Larissa? This-"

"Yes?"

"-is Prime Minister Geoffrey Talbot."

"Ah, of course. I'm afraid that I have a ring-back system for world leaders."

"Quite sensible. Speak to you in a moment, then."

I put the phone down, and a moment later it rings again.

"Mister Prime Minister. How can I be of service?"

"The British government's chief magician just gave us a vague premonition of doom. Supposedly, something magically powerful recently became active and is now hiding itself. Our capacity for magic investigation is somewhat limited, and Mister Grayven suggested that I contact you."

"Did he say how powerful?"

"A twice-a-decade event."

"Hm. I haven't noticed anything, but I'll look into it and get back to you."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Mister Prime Minister."

I put the phone down, then press the button to summon my staff. I've still got a legacy to obliterate.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
11:54 GMT -5

"Okay, but could it be better?"

Kaldur looks at me impassively.

"While I doubt that the design of the water bearer is 'perfect', I do not think that redesigning my equipment is what you are supposed to work on while on medical leave."

"I'm not on.. medical leave. They just want me to avoid…" Okay, it… Would be an arcane influence. Sort of. I couldn't work with the magic part and that's where the potential interference would come from.

I bow my head, nodding.

"Okay."

He smiles faintly, patting me on my left shoulder.

"Do not look so troubled. Surely there are things that you do that do not involve magic?"

Cadbury's is running well, making a profit quarter on quarter and expanding their operations while taking into account differences in regional tastes. Americans just really like gone off milk in their chocolate, and… Capitalism. It's their money. You can lead a horse to good chocolate but you can't make it eat-.

Don't ever feed a horse chocolate.

"Yes… But they're all work things. I… Rather made this whole thing my life."

Computer game development is coming along. Provisionally named 'Vega', they're working on both the engine and the storylines. I don't know how long that sort of thing usually takes, but the progress reports sound relatively positive. I thought about asking Oliver to be my man on the board there as well, but decided against it. While Cadbury's is supposed to be a commercial company, the game is more about having a mass market study into popular morality and ethics. For me, anyway. I'm not gambling with money I can't afford to lose, and… Frankly, the people involved all seem well motivated enough that I'm not worrying about it.

He nods. "I understand that all too well."

Which leaves me at a loose end.

"I mean, Orange Lantern, so-."

"If you did not make it your life, you would not be able to do it so well."

"Obligation only takes me so far."

"During a campaign, it can be difficult for a soldier to take time to themselves."

"I think the problem's more the other way around. I can raise my hand-" I tap my right forefinger and middle finger against my forehead. "-and reappear almost anywhere. But studies on combat fatigue show that that's not actually a good idea." I shrug. "People work better when they're given time to decompress before getting back to normal life. And it was…"

I look around the mountain's living area.

"This, or gardening with Alan. And I've never really liked gardening, and we're both 'out', which… Can make things a little awkward. So…" I smile awkwardly. "What have you been up to?"

"On M'gann's advice I have began attending a local dance class."

…

"Oh?"

"For obvious reasons, dances in Atlantis are very different to how they are performed on dry land."

"I can imagine. What..? What sort of dancing?"

"Recently, we have been learning the tango."

"Huh."

"Does it surprise you that it would interest me?"

I shrug.

"You haven't mentioned it before, but… It's good to have a hobby, I suppose? You..? Enjoying it?"

He smiles faintly. "I am. Despite Canis's attempts to persuade me otherwise, I seldom use my abilities for anything other than combat."

"I thought Atlanteans were just stronger and tougher than baseline humans. I didn't think you were more agile as well."

"We are not, but living under water forces us to perceive our environment in three dimensions. I have noticed that as a result my spatial awareness tends to be better than that of most surface dwellers."

"Makes… Sense. And that translates into dancing?"

"Not perfectly. I am unlikely to tread upon my partner's toes, but the patterns of movement do not necessarily come naturally."

"Made any new friends?"

"Yes, and they are not people whom I would otherwise have met. Conner said that it would be wise to expand my social circle to include 'regular people'."

"Superheroes are supposed to defend society. I imagine unending duty would get a bit frustrating if we didn't have any emotional investment in the people we were fighting for."

"I doubt that the people I meet will ever be imperilled. Happy Harbour has an exceedingly low crime rate."

It's true. Even the Sheeda didn't really bother to attack it during their incursion, probably due to a combination of quick Justice League response time and low population. What crime there is, is usually petty hooliganism and not the sort of thing where superheroic intervention would really help. Community policing is the order of the day there.

"They're imperilled by attacks on the Earth as a whole. And you can imagine that they're similar to the people you see in other places."

"Is that what you do?"

"No. Empathic vision. Unless they're blocking it somehow I can see the individuality of everyone around me, everything they want to achieve with their lives. But unless you've been working on your parapsychic abilities-"

He shakes his head.

"-you don't have that."

"In Atlantis, parapsychics are rare. The strain it places on the mind of the user means that few are prepared to undertake the training. I am not among them."

If anything he's underselling it. On the surface, parapsychics with no training generally get to the point where they're forced to live as hermits; the sheer intensity of the images they get from everything overwhelming them. In Atlantis they get proper training, but all that means is that they hit the 'limit' earlier. Their ability to dampen the visions is only slightly better than ours.

"Perfectly sensible, but you see how it's a different problem."

"Parapsychics usually have trouble using violence. I have not noticed that being a problem for you."

"Oh, no. When I see someone's desires, when I see for sure what they want… I can tell for certain that they need to die. It sounds callous, but if you saw what I see…"

I shake my head and look away, towards the 'entertainment centre'.

"That got morbid. Are you up for some cooperative Sonic the Hedgehog?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
20:52 GMT

I step through the open blast door and into one of the offices on the increasingly misnamed 'dark side' of the moon.

"Lex said that you wanted to speak to me?"

Other Lex nods distractedly as he continues to pore over intelligence reports collected by hush tube from many unsuspecting interstellar civilisations.

"I've already told your Lex, but I've concluded that your attempts at uplift are… Passable."

"Be still my beating heart."

"I've outlined a few areas for improvement-."

"Please tell me you didn't say that to Lex."

He sits up slightly and gives me a marginally larger portion of his attention.

"Why ever not?"

"Because as much as he's doing better these days, we've still got a considerable distance to go before he'll be capable of responding rationally to criticism like that."

I generate a construct chair and sit down.

"And speaking of that-."

"I became aware of my own irrationality a few months ago. I was exposed to a variant of phobaline hydrochorate twice in my life, but only found out about it relatively recently."

I frown. "Fear toxin? The effects of short term exposure end… At most after a month. Unless the dosage was… Near-lethal-."

"A variant, designed to cause long term paranoid tendencies."

Lantern Grayven, that could be a useful addition to your arsenal.

"Right. Excuse me a moment, my ring's talking to me."

"Concerning what?"

I raise my right hand and create a construct of Sinestro, mentally granting my AI full control of it. Other Lex looks at the man, clearly recognising him.

"Sinestro."

"Technically, an AI based on Sinestro 50's memories and intuitions. He had it imprinted on his ring so that in the event of his death it would seek out someone who could continue his work. I've been calling it 'Sinestro', but that Sinestro was killed years ago."

"Sinestro, what was your creator's aim?"

"I was programmed to aid in the establishment of an orderly civilisation through fear; fear of my wearer personally and fear of retribution generally. However, reviewing my database makes it fairly clear that despite how he programmed me, Thaal Sinestro himself valued revenge against the Green Lantern Corps above society-building."

Other Lex nods.

"I assume that you've met your Sinestro?"

He exhales sharply through his nose and raises his right hand, showing his ring.

"When I left, our Sinestro was the Field Commander of the Gold Lantern Corps. The Guardians…" His expression darkens slightly. "Our Guardians were mostly interested in increasing their power, prestige and control. They struck out at civilizations that threatened their hegemony, using Earth as the storage site for potentially useful individuals. Here… Mars is still alive, and every piece of information I've been able to gather shows no sign that they were the hidden hand behind other extermination events."

"Those reports aren't necessarily conclusive. They're mostly what other people think, not necessarily hard facts."

"I've been checking. Your Guardians are down to handfuls of individuals, and their influence covers a far smaller area. The Guardians of my home universe couldn't tolerate that."

"Did they use the Corpse, or modified Manhunters?"

"Manhunters. Your Guardians used them as guards for secure sites and personal 'avatars' when their Lanterns require their support. I haven't been able to find a single infiltrator, and I've been looking hard."

"That's a bit of a relief."

"Our Sinestro turned on the Guardians because they performed biological experiments upon his species." He looks at the construct. "What was your creator's motive?"

"He took over his homeworld and created what he considered to be a perfectly orderly society. Since that was a clear abuse of his ring's power, the Guardians banished him to the anti-matter universe. Unfortunately for them, the experience neither killed him nor convinced him that he was in the wrong."

I nod. "Something similar happened here, except that as far as I can tell he had a far better justification for his putsch. He still has supporters today."

"With whom you stubbornly refuse to make contact. Even if you insist on building your support base in Vega or on Earth, an educated and loyal population could make themselves indispensable."

"Loyal to Sinestro, who I'll remind you is still out there somewhere."

Other Lex gives me a mild frown.

"You're ignoring him?"

"I see no profit in confronting him. I'm not wearing a green ring, and I'm not doing anything he'd disapprove of. Given the skills that he's demonstrated to date, engaging with him in any way would probably result in us trying to kill each other. I don't need another yellow ring at all, and I'm certainly not going to risk either my life or my existing plans to get one."

Other Lex nods approvingly. "Commendably rational. But do you think he will be willing to ignore you?"

"He has so far."

"His concern is justified. You are correct that Sinestro has no reason to target you, but given his existing antipathy to Earth's Green Lanterns it's hardly unthinkable that he might return to Earth at some point. If he does, he will investigate a second yellow ring."

I shake my head.

"That's true of any number of interested parties. I'm not going to write up a huge list of everyone in the universe who might decide to take an interest and try to make plans for all of them. That way lies madness."

Other Lex isn't looking at me.

Heh.

"Though I could-."

Sinestro's head jerks slightly.

"Lantern, I'm receiving an emergency request-." YOUR REALM IS UNDER ATTACK.

I come to my feet, dismissing the construct as I do so.

"Mother Box, boom tube!" "I Defend My People!"

BOOM!

I sprint forwards, my heavy footfalls denting the floor as I run out onto the…

12th July 2012
12:56 GMT -8

The streets of Aberrance, screams guiding me in the direction of the former site of the Metamorphodrome, now Uncorp's primary chirurgical centre.

Ring, find Cranius!

By your command.

Got a location. Communication channel.

"Cranius, I'm here, what's going-"

A colossal arc of lightning scythes through the tops of the surrounding buildings!

"-on?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:00 GMT -8

Oh-.

I shoot into the sky, colossal construct insects appearing in the streets and grabbing hold of the buildings, both preventing the upper storeys falling and blocking further shots with their bodies as I frantically look around for the attacker! Glass sprays from the superheated glass panes as they explode, my shields only covering-.

I need help. Drones.

Sinestro, confirm alert. Get Iname-

A rainbow beam flickers out of nowhere and one of my constructs vanishes.

-and Knockout.

Your children?

The genomorphs can do bodyguard duty. I need people with resistance to magic. New Gods.

Order sent. Circe would-.

Circe got the same alert I did. She'll come or she won't. Same with Adom. Now try-.

Another rainbow beam, but this time I drop an armoured hull plate out of subspace and the construct being targeted uses it as a shield. It hits dead centre and… Does nothing. Some sort of 'activate when strikes' banishment effect, perhaps?

But if you like magic so much… THIS LAND ABHORS YOU!

I summon a new insectoid, noting as I do so that alarms are ringing and people are fleeing. Good. A couple of members of Uncorp security are trying to direct the mad scramble, but they're mostly being ignored. Keeping one eye on my constructs I fly over, landing forcibly in front of them.

"What's going on?"

A woman with elven ears and a peculiarly angular face shakes her head.

"Damned if I know, Mister Grayven. Was a pretty normal day a minute ago."

"Know where Cranius is?"

The gecko-featured man next to her shrugs helplessly.

"Dude, we're park security. I haven't seen Cranius since my procedure."

BO-

Iname appears before me.

-OM!

"Search and rescue. Go."

She nods, and in a black blur fleeing civilians start disappearing. Knockout appears a moment later, armour glowing and fists balled. She looks excited.

"Knockout. Wizard hunting." "Steel yourself."

"Yes, Grayven." "I'll cast fist!"

No more rainbow rays or lightning blasts, and the screams are dying down as people turn their lungpower to the task of fleeing better. My drones dip in and out of tangibility, removing glass and shooting the injured with healing rays.

Onwards, then.

I take to the air and head for the medical complex, Knockout following me on the ground. As I get above the surrounding building-.

A five metre wide lump of rubble flies through the air, hurtling toward me! Acceleration and probable mass-. I generate a baseball glove construct around my right hand and field it, absorbing the force with my own strength and then-. Yes, ground's been cleared, dropping it to the street below.

The air shimmers as two beams of gamma radiation strike my armour to little effect as I get a clearer view of the entity that's assailing me. It's a humanoid about twenty metres tall and made of dark grey rock, with green-glowing veins of metal running throughout its body. That says 'dumb monster' and 'distraction' to me, but it's still capable of killing plenty of people.

My goggles show it firing into the building at the same time as it's firing at me. Those eye holes are for show. And… Not mentally complex enough to feel fear, but there are plenty of people feeling fear in the building.

I generate a thick cylindrical construct around it, blocking its shots at the entire city. Gamma beams are still coming, but they're bouncing off the interior and either hitting the elemental thing, hitting the ground or heading off into the sky. It responds by raising its hands and shoving outwards, straining against the containment.

Scan it.

The grey blur flashes by and enters the building. Iname is trained in how to handle hospital evacuations and.. should be able to walk off radiation exposure. The radioactive rock creature is straining against my construct but doesn't appear to be strong enough to break it. Which means that if it's important its creator's going to appear in a few seconds and get a face full of purple death ray. And if it's not important then I'm wasting my time. Aberrance has safe storage sites for radioactive materials but they're rather built on the assumption that the radioactive materials won't be actively trying to leave under their own power. And destroying a being like this is likely to be a good deal harder than containing it.

I form a rock crusher construct above it and bring it down forcefully on its head, teeth whirring and grinding. Sure, I could shoot it, but it clearly doesn't have vital organs and appears to be lumps of rock held together with magic. Breaking it apart with brute strength will hopefully prevent whoever made it just feeding it more power.

It doesn't make any noise as it crouches slightly and raises its arms above its head. All that really achieves is to destroy its hands a little faster, but if the radiation beams come from its main trunk that might be worthwhile as a holding action. Ah… Oh, looks like it's trying to melt the ground beneath it. I add a bottom to the container, foiling its effort.

I am mildly pleased that it remains silent as my construct surges down, chewing through what's left of its arms and enveloping its head and upper torso. A spray of rock later and it's done, the broken remains of the creature falling inanimate to the ground. I focus on the lingering fears of the remaining watchers that it might return and transmute the material into blocks of pure silica.

"Grayven to Cranius, please respond."

"Laboratory."

I fly, ignoring the blasted and torn form of the chirurgical centre and the.. horribly burned corpses that were its employees and patients. A surprising number appear to have been decapitated, which implies that there are conventionally sized infantry sword-fetishists around here some-.

And then I see Cranius and realise that I wasn't taking the location into account.

Otto is naked, and attached to his neck, chest, thighs and arms are… Heads. Most appear to be unresponsive, but-.

"Niko?"

She blinks at me as Cranius drags another bleeding head over and readies his chirurgical engine.

"Cranius, what-?"

"I will save all I can! But zhe lunatic threatened to go after zhe insectoids! You must-"

The machine finds an artery, and there's a patter of blood on the floor as Cranius wires in the next head.

"-stop him before he can-"

Shit. Boom tube!

Ping!

"-doom us all!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
14:00 GMT -7

I purse my lips as I stare at my orrery.

I'm sure that I've seen this before somewhere.

Not the orrery, which was a project which combined my arcane experience with Sunset's arcane knowledge. It is by far a greater tool than any I worked with in eras past. I would never have tried focusing this spell through a simple map or wooden navigational aide. Not the eruption of elementals besieging Cranius's citadel. Temporarily imbuing the inanimate with life is something even a moderately talented magician could do, had they the knowing of it.

This way of concealing a presence.

On the other side of the room, Giovanni Zatara raises his eyebrows in enquiry.

"Professor Larissa, have you made any progress?"

That's… A drawback to being available for consultations. Sometimes, people want to consult with you at inconvenient times. As Circe I could arrive at Grayven's side and smite whoever dared attack our ally… But as Professor Larissa -a capable but not especially powerful wielder of magical power- I am forced to moderate my response in the presence of a member of the Justice League.

This 'secret identity' business is such a nuisance. I can see why Diana never bothered with one.

"No."

And I keep my sighs contained. If a magic tutor such as my false face failed to identify a malefactor that would merely indicate that they had taken a few sensible precautions. But I'm an ancient sorceress. Hiding from the magics I've been using -even at lower levels of raw power- is no mean feat. It's not Dracula -I'll never forget the feel of his magic, all brute force and no subtlety- and Mr. Near confirmed that it's not Dr. Mist -who could certainly hide from me but would sooner cut off his own right arm than be this overt- and it's clearly not a demon. So who does that leave that I would..?

Aaaaaah.

That's why it feels familiar. Centuries of feeling the edges of the workings of thousands of Atlantean practitioners means that I've become well accustomed to their style, but this isn't the way they practise in the modern era. It wouldn't even occur to Sunset to use magic in this manner. So, either an Atlantean archmage with an interest in history or someone older.

I'm sure Adom would love it if it turned out that Queen Gamemnae somehow survived-.

"Are you certain?"

He doesn't know me well enough to interpret my expressions accurately, but he would spot an illusory mask.

"It reminds me of some of the older Atlantean techniques. Sunset uses the modern thaumaturgically complex forms while this makes more of an effort to work with existing arcane systems."

Because he didn't have anything like the same level of theoretical knowledge back then that they do now and wouldn't have known how to do that. Ahri'ahn. Where has he been? I haven't seen him in the flesh for…

For…

For a while, but I haven't even felt his magic for…

I think I owe Grayven more than I realised for persuading me to leave Kalonymos. For at least two centuries.

"Do you think it could be Circe?"

That's a rational enough deduction. And the answer is no, because I'm perfectly willing to evoke spirits and gods whereas his skin crawls at the very notion of even talking to someone who isn't Greek. Which explains why there haven't been any demands issued; that would involve communication and he hasn't been in contact with modern Atlantis yet to recruit a 'surface-face'. I can well believe that he'd kill a surface dweller who 'cosplayed' as him for no better reason than that.

But there's no reason for 'Professor Larissa' to know that or to be able to identify such subtle distinctions in their magic. A modern magic researcher would only know of him as a historical figure of note. Few among the people of Atlantis perform magic in historical styles for much the same reason that few people on the surface drive around in Model T Fords. But I suppose that it doesn't really matter if Giovanni thinks it's me or someone else, just so long as he's acting against them. So as much as it hurts my pride…

I nod. "It could be. I try to avoid people like that, so I've never experienced her magic close up. But whoever it is, according to this…" A portion of the orrery lights up, showing images of a damaged Aberrance street. "They're in Aberrance right now."

"Aberrance. Do you know it?"

I smile. "Yes, of course. Doctor von Schadel and I have corresponded at length on the use of Atlantean biomancy in his work. And of course the army wanted a second opinion on his implants."

He nods, then returns his attention to the orrery.

"Can I use this to guide a teleportation spell?"

I didn't think he was powerful enough to attempt such a thing. How much has that necklace enhanced his abilities, I wonder? And would he be willing to let me study it? I'm not interested in drawing on the Plane of Order, but there are techniques that can be applied when using other sources of power.

"I.. imagine that you can. It can certainly form a sympathetic link for you. I'm afraid that sort of magic is a little beyond me."

I've been lying to people for over three thousand years, so even a lie like that doesn't trip me up. In truth unaided direct teleportation was… Difficult in the immediate aftermath of breaking my pact with Hecate. But something as trivial as moving around the material world at will is well within my abilities.

As is maintaining a mental glamour against the type of probe Giovanni just attempted, concealing my real nature behind a façade and disguising that it is a façade. He's.. good, considering his relative youth. But he's using Lord Nabu's tools to punch above his weight and hasn't raised his own skills to match.

Maybe in a few centuries.

He nods politely.

"I thank you for your assistance. Tropsnart em ot eht dleifelttab!"

Gold light flashes and I watch the connections form between him, the orrery and the image of Aberrance. Then there's a flicker and he's gone. I wave my hands, making sure that he hasn't left any sort of observation spell behind. No, he kept to the rules of hospitality. What a pleasant surprise. I can't persuade Constantine to do that even after all of the minor 'corrective' curses I've put on him.

I turn and walk over to the desk, pulling out a bundle of threads. Let's see… Social interaction, teaching, physicality, some creativity… I twist the threads into a knot and attach aspects of my character to each one… And stand back as a changeling wearing my 'Professor Larissa' face appears.

"Take my classes and help the students."

She nods and heads to the 'Introduction to Magic' class that I'd had to put on hold. It won't require her to actually use magic, which is good because while she can draw on my reserves, if I'm going to be fighting Ahri'ahn I don't want to be at anything less than my best.

Even if he hasn't left any monitoring spells on the orrery, Giovanni might feel it if I use it. Fortunately, I know the shape of Sunset's magic well enough not to need it. I simply raise my hands and walk towards her heat and skill and friendship, shimmering-

12th July 2012
13:04 GMT -8

-into being next to her in the Aberrance car park, the illusion of Professor Larissa well and truly discarded.

Flames are curling around Sunset as she partially etherealises, proving that she's well on her way to true apotheosis. Man-shaped lumps of macadam slump inert in a circle around her where she's defended herself against attack. She glances at me as I appear, and her… Genuine smile actually makes my heart flutter.

"Circe!"

"Sunset. Are you winning?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:03 GMT -8

I dash out of the boom tube and into one of the insectoid enclosures-. Shiiiiiit die!

The humanoid lump of concrete and steel is blasted apart by my beam and what's left is smashed to powder by my construct hammer.

"Grayven to everyone."

Another lunges at me, concrete forelimb pulverising itself against my cuirass before my counterpunch sends its head flying into what's left of the containment chamber wall.

"The insectoids are out. Iname, evacuate Uncorp but do not let them touch you. Your safety-"

I raise my right arm and bring it down, smashing the still-upright elemental… Thing, to detritus.

"-is paramount."

Because that's what destroyed the world in Marvel Zombies. Pietro got infected, then infected millions all across the world in a matter of moments. The sensible thing would probably be to get her to pull out, but this is going to be a slaughter otherwise. Just have to risk it.

A second of pressure on my back, then two transparent scythes swing at my eyes! I raise my left arm to block, the-. The transparent aluminium grinds against my vambrace as the surprisingly strong whatever-this-is tries to force through its attack before being knocked off by a wrecking ball construct.

"Malefactors include elementals conjured from local materials. Sunset, if you can get here without exposing yourself to the insectoids, do so and unsummon this lot."

My immediate vicinity's clear and drones are heading in to find my targets.

"Sure. What's so dangerous about-?"

"Master, one of the people here has been bitten. What-?"

Whoever did this caused the concrete to form an ornate staircase down into the holding chambers down from the observation area. I go up at a jog. The insectoids would want to get out, but they're essentially animals navigating an unfamiliar environment. Not all of them will go far.

"If it's a small bite, cut off the body part. If that's not practical, knock them out."

"Will that stop it?"

"No, but it will stop them feeling it. There's no cure yet. Get bitten, you turn. Get cut, you turn. Their spit, their poison, everything-"

A tentacle-covered twelve legged insectoid drops on me from the wall! I catch it in both hands and my arms are swiftly enveloped in sucker-covered tentacles which secrete some sort of caustic substance.

"-about them is designed to infect-"

Which they can't do to my armour but can do to the tiny amounts of organic residue on my armour, a dull yellow foam appearing on my forelimbs.

"-and convert."

"I can kill them, Master."

Construct pneumatic rams begin slamming into where I think this creature's brain is. As far as we've been able to tell they don't feel fear, but there's still plenty of fear in this building alone.

"Nughgreehraughhhh!"

I twist, slamming it against the wall and then getting-. Spartan kicking it down the steps into the containment chamber. It hits the ground and rolls end over end until it hits the back wall. I.. need to fix this. I never thought I'd need to build a place to hold these creatures. The place I put the British cultists isn't big enough or resilient enough.

I fly backwards, pieces of rubble being altered and shoved into place to cover the hole. I transmute a little titanium and steel… That should do for now.

"Knockout, status."

"Car park! Found the wizard!"

I nod. Knockout's resilience is her one useful quality so I don't feel obliged to rush to her aid. Corralling the insectoids is my highest priority.

"The insectoid enclosure is repaired. Iname, if you're able, call for boom tubes and send the insectoids back."

"Yes, master!"

I head out through what used to be a series of secure corridors, now warped into some sort of promenade. A thick vault security door has been crushed like tinfoil, with the controls blasted apart-. From the inside, from the looks of it. Alright, that-.

Wiring leaps out of the walls and wraps around me, electricity arcing!

And doesn't do a thing to me, as my armour is pretty darn insulated, but that would have been a nasty trap for someone without my level of resilience. Construct wire cutters snip and cut through, but the wires are animated and twist around each other to keep the current flowing.

And then they fall dead.

"Sunset to Grayven. I've… Countered the spell, but that was… Really powerful. I don't know if I could stop it quickly if it got cast again."

I pull free of the last few wires, then fly at speed through the redesigned corridors.

"Just do your best. Any sign of Circe?"

"She's in the middle of something."

An insectoid millipede rears up and spits at me-

Boom tube.

BOOM.

-and a construct battering ram shoves it back into the portal aperture as the mutagenic gunk hits my cuirass. FACE ME!

Disintegrate it.

Done, Lantern Grayven. What a fascinating terror weapon they would make.

No, they're too effective and too wild. They'd convert a world before anything useful could be achieved.

They die when they're damaged sufficiently. An advanced world would accept that they couldn't be saved and kill them, at tremendous cost to their morale. Do not allow Earth's abnormalities to jade you to the effectiveness of conventional military power.

I hesitate as something that looks like a bodybuilding praying mantis charges me.

Would it be better to use soldiers? As a federal agent I can call on Department of Metahuman Affairs SWAT teams and since we're in Aberrance I imagine that the Department of Energy's equivalents would be made available as well. With current generation ABC warfare gear they should be able to manage acceptably well.

BOOM

And back into storage it goes.

But they might take casualties. People converted into insectoids. Which would cause people to associate that with Un-Men, regardless of the fact this is only happening because a high-powered wizard is attacking the place and decided they were mildly more convenient than making more elementals. That would set Cranius back and it probably wouldn't even improve the situation. Heavy bombardment would work, and completely stop anything useful happening here.

No, I'm going to have to clear this with my own resour-

Iname appears.

"All done, Master!"

-ces.

"Good work. Now let's go and help Knockout."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:04 GMT -8

I shrug, trying not to look as relieved as I feel.

"Eh. You know."

Because I can do control spells and I can do battle spells. But I'm not so good at doing both at once while someone actually tries to kill me. Magic armour plus transformed Earth Pony should let me do what Grayven does and just shrug off people hitting me. But I've seen the scars from where he couldn't and I'm not ready to try that quite yet.

I smile, some of the tension going out of my shoulders.

"All the better now you're here."

Because I can do this. Probably. But having someone here who's got a lot more experience than me means that I'm less likely to get something really wrong.

I feel Circe touching my spells with her magic, feeling out what they do and how much effort they're taking. Even without a horn I can manipulate far more magic power now than I could before my transformation, and after I set spells up keeping distinct spells running in parallel is a snap. I thought about making the spell I'm using to prevent elemental manifestations harder to understand, but if we're trying to find whoever's responsible for this attack, then-.

"You've made that spell simple to understand on purpose, haven't you?" Circe smiles at me. "You cunning minx."

I tilt my head back, chin held high in pride.

"Cunning pony."

And there's an exception for a very narrow band of sympathetic resonances, so that if I do this-

The concrete and tarmac around us jumps up, forming a short defensive wall.

-then it behaves a little more like a hill or fortress. Not as good as if I reinforced it directly, but it's a lot tougher than it should be. It took me hours to work out how Maud was doing that, but even with the bruises it was time well spent. So if-.

Everything goes white for a moment and I immediately heal myself, blinking-. Yes! Tarmac beats lightning! This is starting to look like the work of someone who's strong but lazy. I mean-

I start trying to reverse-engineer whatever it was that whoever that is did to hurl lightning like that, my etheric senses running along the channel in the way Circe's did my spell. And I'm not exactly feeling anything impressive. Like I thought, high power and…

Auto-targeting? Huh. So it's not targeting me specifically, it's just taking shots at targets of opportunity. But I've seen Misa dropping people off and it hasn't tried blasting any of them. What's the characteristic it's looking for? It's not how much of a threat it is, because it was blasting buildings when Grayven got here.

"Sunset, it would be wise to raise your defenses."

Huh?

"Magic defenses? I've already got those."

"No, your shields against direct attack. These buttresses are reasonable, but-."

Oh, darn it. She's right. The few battlemage lessons I was able to persuade Celestia to give me didn't take into account the sort of weapons Earth has. I mean, I'm a small target-

I wave my right hand, creating an area around me where all objects and energies are predisposed to avoid hurting people.

-in cover, so I'm not exactly an easy target.

I take a step to the left.

Moving around might be better than bunkering up, but I don't know what magic is being used here and I don't want to split my concentration. Genomorphs might get converted by those.. insectoid things.

Equestria does not have anything like those.

I turn to look at Circe.

"Is this oka-"

A beam of rainbow light shoots past my nose, disintegrating a neat hole through my dugout.

"-y?"

Okay taller walls now. I don't need to be able to see all that well to keep suppressing the summoning effect.

"I think that it is, yes."

"What even was that? It-."

Actually, what did it do? Was it homing in on me? There wasn't an explosion when it hit home and I didn't feel any sort of pressure shift that might be caused by teleportation or matter nullification. I spread the area of the safe zone outwards to increase the chance of it 'catching' another shot like that, boost my armour and start trying to examine that spell and the lightning spell for shared elements.

Okay… I think…

"Is that the guidance system?"

"The guid-. Hm." Circe nods. "I think you're right. I think it is."

"Okay, well, I can misdirect it-. Actually."

I bend down and pick up a small stone. Yes, that should do… I trace a small sigil on it with my right foreclaw and imbue it with a little power. And throw…

It sails over the area covered by my ward and-.

And I blink to clear my eyes as lightning hits it. Twice.

And then the rainbow beam hits it.

Ooooooh.

Oh, this bit isn't going to be fun.

I hold my right hand out to the side, draw mana into the material world just over my palm and wai-.

Lightning strike. And two, three, four, f-.

The glowing ball winks out as the rainbow beam shoots it through the middle-. Through the middle because the ward is only protecting living people and a ball of energy isn't a living person.

I pour mana into my right palm, raise my left hand and conjure a beam of light-.

Hah! It curved around! That's pretty clever. Once we're finished here I'll do a proper analysis and work out-.

Circe pats me on the head.

"I'm sure that's very interesting, dear, but perhaps you should focus on the here and now?"

"Right, okay. It look like-. Grayven?"

"Listening."

"The lightning and rainbow beam home in on magic. If you-"

I pull more power into the world, but this time surround it with a minor dampening spell so that it won't look like it's there.

One.

"-hide anything magical with a disguise ward, the spells shouldn't trigger."

Two, three, four… Five.

Yes!

"Right. I'll bear that in mind. Is Circe with you?"

She leans towards me. "Yes, I am."

"You've got lots of experience undoing human transformations. Would you mind having a go at some of the locals? We… Didn't get to all of them fast enough."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:05 GMT -8
FACE ME!
Iname just runs outside, but I'm limited to more mortal speeds. A hush tube takes me out into the car park in front of the main building, my visor over my eyes as I search for my target and my god powers fully activated, reaching out across my ally's home territory. Whoever this is will have to choose between fighting me directly or accepting being weakened by the Source.

Seven metres away to my left Knockout tanks a blast of luminous cyan fire on the shield she grudgingly accepted from my armoury.

"I will tear your liver from your chest, wizard!"

Now where is the blight-?

Lighting flashes out of nowhere, biting at my armour. But the wizard hasn't appeared in person. My challenge is unanswered, and the blast which previously scythed through entire buildings patters off my armour like spring rain. If it was being manually cast then it would only be a little weaker, so-. Automatic?

"Tcetorp Nevyarg morf eht pu-wollof!"

Huh?

A rainbow beam like the one that nullified my construct monsters flies at me, only to be struck by a beam from-. Zatara's amulet. The beam fades away, only the weakest residues carrying on to strike my left gauntlet. 'Protect Grayven…'

"Giovanni!" I draw my daiklave. "Good to see you. Whatever brings you here?"

"Arion." He drifts a little closer, carefully watching the space around us. "Or as he would have originally been called in his native Atlantis, Ahri'ahn."

"Arion? William Knightley?" I frown. "I interviewed him for Larissa's school when I was trying to help her find teachers, the man's a tit. He's nothing like powerful enough to do this."

Zatara raises his eyebrows. "William.. Knightley?" I nod. "Then at least I know the victim's name. I was referring to the original Arion, not the man who unwisely began using his name."

Oh. "Ahri'ahn, the founder of the Atlantean school of magic Ahri'ahn?"

"The very same."

Huh. Kind of surprised we're doing this well. Though… Circe herself demonstrates that there's a limit to how good a magician attached to their human physiology can get. And she had access to an appreciable chunk of Hecate's power prior to giving it up. Nabu and Jebediah have elemental order, Klarion and Company have elemental chaos making them more than they were. I have a fragment of the Source. Ahri'ahn was famous for not having any interest in making any sort of bargain with an elemental creature. And if he hasn't been keeping up with modern thaumaturgy then he won't be knowledgeable enough to use work arounds in the way that Sunset does. So he's probably dangerous but not ridiculously s-.

Space… Ripples, and then the air surges past me at skin-scouring speed! Iname dashes away, trying to outrun it while Knockout just braces and Zatara clutches his amulet.

"A weak-."

Yeah, it doesn't really hurt but there's no way he'll be able to hear me until the noise has died down a little. I fold my arms behind my back, Darkseid-style. Five, six-. There we go.

"A weak effort, Ahri'ahn. Considering your legend I expected better. Or were all of your battle magics cast against defenceless civilians, even in the days of antemergerentur Atlantis? I don't recall my Atlantean colleagues mentioning you ever fighting an equal, but I had assumed that was just due to the gulf of time. Is this really all you can do?"

Zatara grits his teeth.

"Grayven."

"Method to my madness, Zatara. All sorts of things happen when you don't play ball with a New God." I spread my arms out a little. "Want to try shooting me again? It'll be even less effective this time, then less still and still."

I make a show of walking in a circle, but I'm watching out quite carefully. My goggles revealing nothing means that in a very real sense that he's not here. He's not dodging us by being invisible or intangible. Remote viewing is perfectly possible, but countering that would require highly sophisticated magic of a sort that I'll have to rely on Sunset or Circe for.

"Don't make me use school yard insults. We'll both feel the lesser for it."

There's a peculiar waft of sea spray from the roof of the entry gate guard station, and my goggles show me all sorts of interesting information about exactly how he's interacting with local space. I'll share it with Sunset when things are a little calmer. A moment passes and then a man in early modern and decidedly non-Atlantean dress precipitates out of his portal. And when I say non-Atlantean, I mean neither historical Atlantean nor modern Atlantean.

So I say the first thing that comes into my head.

"What's with the clothes?"

"Alien."

No trace of an Atlantean accent. He's been speaking English for a while, well enough to inject enough contempt into the word to make it clear how he feels about me. Alright then.

"By the authority invested in me by the American Federal Government, I am placing you under arrest."

He doesn't even bother to raise an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly expect me to comply?"

"No. No. But they like it if I try. What was this all about, anyway?"

"It's about you disgusting creatures using my work." He holds out his right hand and a book I.. don't recognise teleports into his hand. "My actual work. You.. create these abominations and celebrate it. You're like children proudly standing next to a shit-filled potty."

"Whaw, modern Atlanteans sure get you wrong. So… You want every un-man dead and their records expunged?"

"And you and your lackeys dead, and that order cultist as well."

"Excuse us if we don't try-" The tron lines on my armour switch from yellow to orange as I focus my mind on my revulsion at his wantonly destructive attitude. "-to take you alive, then."

Knockout charges and the water foam rises again, Iname's scythe passing through the area he occupied-

"Agh!"

-a moment before with no resistance. I turn-. Shit!

A mosquito-like insectoid has pounced on Zatara, proboscis punching through his magic shield and stabbing-

My construct ram hits it a moment later, ramming it through the exterior wall of the Uncorporation building and back inside.

-him in the.. leg. He clutches the wound, staggering for a moment before collapsing to the ground.

Scan.

Non-human matter detected.

Iname dashes up, looking at him with concern.

"Master-?"

"Get him to Sunset. I'll clear up the rest of the insectoids."

"What about the wizard, Master?"

My face darkens.

"We'll have to go after him later."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
18:06 GMT -3

It is quiet, when I fly like this.

12th July 2012
17:06 GMT -4

I have been told by the scholars of this era that it is because I am flying faster than the sound my flight generates.

12th July 2012
16:06 GMT -5

It is almost poetic. I questioned them as to why I could see myself, and they told me that light is far faster than sound.

12th July 2012
15:06 GMT -6

I had suspected, but it was still pleasant that the people of this era could measure such things; that the understanding is so widespread that it is common knowledge.

A world of scholars. A pleasing idea.

12th July 2012
14:06 GMT -7

Lord Atum, grant me the power to strike down my enemies.

12th July 2012
13:06 GMT -8

My fists strike what even to my eyes appears to be empty air, shards of colour, pressure and broken magics exploding away from the point of impact! For an instant the chaotic one is visible, surprise and fear clear on his face. I reach to grasp him, but fast as thought he calls his magics about him and vanishes once more.

Frustrating.

I look down at the damage he has wrought to the home of my ally, the strange living head called 'Cranius'. The towers of his vassals and merchants are torn and broken, though fortunately the homes of his people appear mostly unharmed. There is a woman in dark clothing running across-. Ah, Grayven's champion Iname. It is still strange to see others moving when I move with Lord Aker's blessing. She is.. carrying a wounded person. Swift though she is, she has no particular skill in fighting evil magicians.

Still, that should have unmade any spells he had active over the area.

I feel-. The wizard-!? No. No, an altogether more pleasant sight. Circe and her apprentice Sunset Shimmer stepping slowly out of thin air. Their spell must be near-instant for me to be able to notice it.

Lord Zehuti, clear my mind. Reveal to me my enemy's magic.

I look around, trying to discern his location or where he may attack again. The style of the magic is somewhat familiar to me; the similarity to Queen Gamemnae's magic marks it unmistakably as Atlantean. Old Atlantean. But why would an Atlantean attack Cranius's demesne? He does not threaten their territory, their people or their trade. Has he offended their gods, perhaps? That seems more likely. When I asked him about his gods he claimed to only acknowledge a fertility goddess, and I do not think that he was being entirely serious.

But when I look beyond the traces of Atlantean magic, I see… I do not recognise it, but smaller amounts of magic almost everywhere that has been damaged. Did the Atlantean find his magic offensive, then?

I descend, pushing Lord Aker's blessing away far enough that I can meaningfully interact with people who move at normal speeds.

"Madam Circe. Madam Shimmer."

Circe smiles warmly, and I-. I find myself responding. She is an interesting woman.

"Teth Adom, have you won already? That would be most discourteous after we came all this way."

Sunset Shimmer looks around at the damage that the magician has wrought.

"Yeah, I don't think this is over. Not unless you hit him so hard he just exploded."

"I regret that I did not. My blow neutralised his magics, but he appeared to have prepared for such a thing occurring."

"By punching-? No, that's not important right now. Grayven!"

Something approaches, and I draw upon Lord Aker's blessing in preparation for an attack. But no, it is just Iname, carrying a creature wearing an ill-fitting-.

"Giovanni!"

Ill-fitting suit. I frown as Iname lays him on the ground and Sunset Shimmer rushes to examine him. Giovanni.. Zatara? The clothing matches, but the figure's lower legs are those of some manner of great insect and have torn through his trousers.

"Oh my." Circe regards him with concerned interest as Sunset Shimmer calls her magic to her. "I seldom used insect transformation on my subjects. But the core principles of the metamorphosis should be the same. Anton Arcane did study transformative magic as well as biomancy."

"It's still going it's still going it's still going…"

Sunset Shimmer pulls his shirt apart with a strength I did not know that she possessed, revealing his bare chest-. It is still mostly human, though it is as if chitin were climbing up his flesh, covering his skin. A transformation curse, then. I have seen such things before.

"Adom, can you..? Fix this? Punch him?"

"Sunset, focus. Even if Adom could remove all of the magic used in this transformation, it's only-."

"Only partially magical, because Arcane used biotechnology and that wouldn't be affected. Yes, yes."

Sunset Shimmer is a brilliant and powerful young woman, but she is clearly unseasoned if she forgot herself like that.

"Adom, would you be a dear and check on Grayven? Sunset and I can handle this."

My pride bridles at being dismissed in such a manner. But she is an ally, and she is not wrong. To remove such a curse requires speed and skill with magic that I lack, and with no visible enemy there is little I can do to help them.

"Mister Teth Adom?" Iname smiles brightly at me, her expression entirely at odds with our surroundings. Why is she happy? "Master is in the Uncorporation building."

'Master'? No, no, not a slave. A devoted servant. There are such among the people of Khandaq, who foolishly call me a god. I had never thought to give them power, but she is clearly dutiful in his service.

I nod, calling upon Lord Aker's blessings in full.

"Show me."

She runs, and I run after her. I usually do not like to touch the ground, but if these are to be my peers in this new world, I can lower myself that much. The broken streets pass in less than the blink of a mortal eye, the slighted wall around Cranius's school an instant later. Inside the building Grayven is wrestling with a bizarre monster that looks like a giant mosquito, both locked in place as statues due to the difference in our speeds. The monster looks as though it could kill a great many mortal men, though I cannot see why one so strong as Grayven is having difficulty in slaying it.

I draw back my left fist-.

"No!"

Iname's hand is on my forearm. Such impertinence! I am not some dog to be pulled up by their collar-!

"They were people before they were transformed! Most of them were soldiers!"

And at once my anger departs me. Of course. A king would hear of monsters and send soldiers, assuming that even if the monsters were stronger individually the cohort would still be able to slay them. But if the wounded soldiers were transformed, he would simply be increasing the threat. By the time someone contained them, the original monster would be the least of his concerns.

"How has Grayven commanded you to fight them?"

"Don't get infected. Every part of their body can transform you. Hit them into a boom tube and we can send them back to their cells."

I nod.

"Call upon the boom tubes. I am more resilient than you, and it would be best for us to resolve this quickly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:09 GMT -8

I nod to Adom as he holds the ten-legged lamprey… Not an insectoid, taxonomically speaking, but an un-man insectoid. It thrashes helplessly as Adom holds its mouth closed and I direct Mother Box to open a hush tube. I use a construct to block as it squirts blood at him from its eyes, then Adom turns and throws it through the tube and back into containment.

And close.

"Are there more?"

Ring?

None found.

"No, that's it." I manage a strained smile and offer him my right hand. "Thank you for coming."

He clasps my forearm and I return the gesture.

"I regret that I was not able to stop the wizard permanently."

"Ancient wizards don't live to be ancient by being easy to kill."

"I am painfully aware of that."

He is rather.. fixated on the idea of taking revenge on Jebediah. Shazam. Whatever. I've made it clear that I'm not going to be lending him my knife for that, but there's no percentage in trying to talk him out of something he feels that strongly about. Perhaps he might come to regard hunting Ahri'ahn as practice?

Mother Box, hush tube to Kahndaq.

Ping.

"Much as Cranius and I appreciate you being here, given your international status…"

He nods. "Call upon me should he reappear."

He flies through the opening, and I close it before opening another back to the street where Sunset and Circe were working on saving Zatara. I step through, blinking…

I can't exactly see magic, but I can.. feel things being… Twisted. I can.. almost taste it. Sunset's hair is doing the same thing as Celestia's mane, billowing and no longer entirely corporeal. Circe's more there, but… Things are shifting…

"Any joy?"

Zatara's down to his underwear and while I can see his outline, it's like he's… There and not there? Whole and at the same time an exploded view? Doesn't look comfortable, but it also doesn't look like he's turned into an insect.

It also doesn't look like something that can be applied en masse. I didn't recognise twenty or so of the insectoids we threw into containment, and I'm confident that when we take a roll call we'll find at least that many people missing.

I hate feeling… Powerless.

Sunset and Circe stand up. I raise my eyebrows.

"Is he still human?"

He… Looks human, but I'm aware of a wide variety of techniques which can be used to 'bypass' a failing human body. Vampires -for example- usually have bodies that are sufficiently corpse-like that they are immune to a wide variety of biological substances. For fairly obvious and frankly nightmarish reasons we haven't experimented with that here, but there might be some necromancy-related way to prevent biological contamination.

"Oh, yes." Circe nods confidently. "He should probably avoid using more than minor magics for a week or so while his body stabilises, but he will remain human."

I nod. That's quite a relief. "Can the technique you used work for anyone else? We've got more people who've been infected-."

"Ah." Sunset stumbles a half-step before Circe takes hold of her to support her. "I-. Thanks." She smiles at Circe. "I don't think so. Not unless they're half-transformed magicians. And given how fast it goes…"

I nod. "Is that a matter of time, or is the limitation inherent to the technique?"

"It…" As she considers the idea her hair drops down to its normal level of animation. "Might be something we can adapt. Eventually. I'd need to.. study the other insectoids. The fully transformed ones."

That's… Yeah. The insectoids were always a liability, but now they've actually cost us. And useful as Sunset is as a part-time teacher and general researcher…

"Yeah. If Circe can spare you, I'd like you to coordinate with Cranius on studying the insectoids. Questions are going to be asked about this, and if we want Cranius's work to continue I'm going to need to convince our friends in government that matters are in hand."

Sunset nods, then looks at Circe. Circe nods with obvious reluctance.

"Your absence will be a blow, but Grayven is correct. This seems like just the thing that could make someone in General Lane's position nervous."

I hold up my right hand. "There's no need to rush. I'll get Cranius to get you access to Uncorporation's research records. They'll need a few days to start rebuilding at the very least before you'll be able to do anything on-site."

"If you can get me some blood, tissue and venom samples then I can get started right away."

"No, you can get to work on designing the workroom and automata you're going to use to interact with those samples. I expect-. I'll be talking to Scott about getting New God level biofilters installed and you're going to have to learn how to interact with them."

Sunset puts her right hand on her right hip.

"Grayven, I interacted with that… Stuff, on a level even you can't comprehend. I know how dangerous it is and I wasn't about to slack off on the safety precautions. I also know how… Horrible it is to get mutated by it. It wasn't just the changes you could see; it was already changing his.. brain."

I nod. "And that's why I'm insisting on extraordinary precautions." I kneel down to bring our faces closer to level. "I'm not accusing you of sloppiness or foolishness. But I care for your wellbeing, and these things are extraordinarily dangerous. Please, for me?"

"Oh." She blinks. "Um. Okay. It shouldn't be that hard to come up with something based on radiological handling protocols. If it's… That important to you."

"You are."

I might be pushing things here, but she's been in combat and just saved the mind of her best friend's father. I smile hopefully and spread my arms.

She rolls her eyes, but she steps forward and tolerates me hugging her-.

"Okay, that's enough. Don't make this-" I open my arms and she pulls away. "-weirder. Maybe you should… Spend less time around ponies."

"No, my relationship with Luna won't work if I don't accept her culture as she accepts mine."

Circe looks mildly affronted. "Do you have a hug for me as well?"

I shrug and open my arms again, causing her to huff and ignore me to hug Sunset. Sunset goes along with it, then her eyes widen in mock-horror.

"Did I just.. get adopted?"

"The other side of me thinking that Celestia's not good for you is that I think we are." I rise to my feet. "Now run along, Sunset."

"You know?" She raises her hands. "I'm just gunna do that. Mother Box, hush tube."

"Ping."

Sunset walks into thin air and vanishes.

"She took that well." Circe glances at me. "I had thought that she might blow up at us."

"She's come a long way, emotionally. Some ponies are just born to be shaved monkeys." I sigh, looking around. And then down at Giovanni. "I'll take him home. Could you please get started at the wards?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:24 GMT -8

Uncorporation staff run past me carrying machinery from.. I don't know where, heading to the laboratory Cranius is hastily rebuilding in his medical facility. Yeah, I don't know exactly how much blood is in Otto's body, but I very much doubt that he's designed to have multiple heads plugged into him for any length of time. I'm trying to stay out of their way, but I'm really big and there aren't a lot of clear gangways in a place this badly damaged.

Ah, it's going to have to come down anyway.

I exit the building through an external hole, getting a clear look at the physical damage most of the central business district of Aberrance has suffered. It's… Near-total. My constructs only held up the buildings for as long as it took for the people inside to evacuate, and the moment that happened and I left… Collapse. I've cleared the major streets so that vehicles could get through, but… It's not like there's a better place for the rubble to be while it gets sorted and processed.

Rising into the air, I fly to the point in the second storey closest to where Cranius is, open a hole in the wall and fly in. Cranius is still working, his head-transplant operations having expanded to plug people into what I'm sure are entirely voluntary volunteers from amongst the third generation cohort.

He doesn't look around.

"Grayven. We're working. Summary only, ja?"

'We're'-? Oh, that's Crassus assembling the bioreactor. He's out in the open in sunlight where people can see him. Weird.

"The insectoids are back in their enclosure, the elementals are banished and the wizard leading the attack appears to have left. An ally of ours is creating area wards around Aberrance which should prevent him reappearing. The attacker's name is Ahri'ahn."

"Zhe Atlantean? He is still alive?"

"Yeah, he dodged Adom's second punch. Don't know how many people are dead yet, but…" I look around his trauma ward. "It looks like the attack focused here. I'm estimating maybe ten or twenty outside."

"More here. Many more. When zhe creature appeared, zhe soldiers, zhey tried to fight it. I was… I was supposed to be working on a boy wizh… Leukaemia today. And now I… I have rubble."

"It killed him?"

"No. No, Niko ran wizh zhem to the back entrance… It attacked her and ignored zhem."

"And that's..? Where..?"

"I'm not dead, Grayven." Niko's head is attached to the stomach of a six-armed un-woman, and there's some sort of growth attached to her back that undulates as she speaks. "Though for some reason I can't stop thinking of head-puns."

"Uh. Are you..?"

"Better a head than dead. Right?"

Her expression is slightly pained, but she doesn't sound like she's on the verge of a total break down.

"What happened to your… Body?"

"I was too busy screaming to really get a good look."

"Radiation burns." Cranius begins slotting blood samples into a baroque-looking machine. "Fatal. Un-men are not prone to cancer but we can still catch fire."

"Remains?"

"Nozhing I can work wizh."

Oh dear. Sinestro, give me the news.

I fear that you are correct, Lantern Grayven.

"The Nth metal in her body. It's nothing I can't replace-" With a trip to Thanagar or to one of their perennial enemies. "-but it is rare and valuable and there are a lot of things someone could do with it. And my ring can't find your remains."

"I knew zhat zhe metal was valuable, but… Zhis whole..?"

"No, no. Ahri'ahn just finds un-men really disgusting. Though according to our Greek mutual friend he finds most people disgusting." I sigh. "I'll check, but I'm going to provisionally assume that Ahri'ahn got it. And, ah." I look Niko's head over. "The rest of you."

"So. I guess… No more flying for a while."

"Flying? You should be more worried about blood magic. When a magician of that level of experience gets a part of your flesh-."

But… I know a way around that. It… Might actually fix… Not everything, but-.

"Something.. occurs. Excuse me."

Mother Box, hush tube to wherever John Constantine is at present.

Ping.

Not completely unexpected. Just follow the scent of nicotine, then. I'm sure that he's at least trying.

Ping.

And I fly through the portal and-

12th July 2012
14:27 GMT -7

-he is indeed, a literal sphere of cigarette smoke enshrouding his head and stubbornly refusing to drift away.

"The fact I can't see yeh-" His right hand and the cigarette it's holding emerge from the smoke. "-doesn't mean I don't know that someone's there."

"John, you've got something I want, and since I want it now I'm not going to haggle. What do you want for Gabriel's wings?"

With whatever Circe did to him to envelop his head in smoke I can't even scan his expression.

"Well that's-."

"Don't mess about. A lot of people died today because Ahri'ahn went on a rampage. The only reason it's not more is that Cranius is plugging severed heads into other people's bodies to keep them alive."

I fire a blast of yellow at his face, transmuting the smoke into air. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the sudden light.

"You know where they are?"

"Yes."

He gives a small shrug. "You can owe me. Either that or get Madam Circe to take off these bothersome curses."

"I'll ask, but I'd suggest that you either stop pissing her off or just quit. I'm fine owing you. Mother Box."

"Ping."

I step through the portal and-

12th July 2012
21:29 GMT

-Jesus this place is a sty. The wings -silver blood congealing on the severed stumps- are shoved out of the way on top of a rickety-looking shelving unit. I grab them and then walk through-

12th July 2012
13:27 GMT -8

-into Aberrance.

"Got some replacement wings for you. The blood should also have healing properties."

"Zhank-."

"Oh God thank you. Ah. Do they work? They look a bit…"

"They should." I lay them down carefully on a gurney and Cranius leaps up to examine them. "Now I have to go and explain things to General Lane."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
09:27 GMT

I frown as I leaf through the paper copy of the presentation before me, then look up at my fellow meeting attendees.

Oliver looks mildly pensive, while Conrad -the current Chief Executive of Cadbury- is keeping his face carefully blank.

"Gentlemen, I was pretty clear when I acquired Cadbury that I wasn't interested in having any direct involvement in setting company policy. I don't know enough about the business to do that. My purchase was purely a pride thing."

Oliver briefly glances at Conrad and then returns his attention to me.

"So what's the issue?"

Oliver adjusts his position in his seat.

"It's because it's not just about candy anymore." He sighs. "The Sheeda targeted container ships and transport airplanes. Long distance shipping worldwide is a fraction of what it was before the war, and for countries like Britain which are net food importers that's a big problem."

"Good for carbon emissions. And it's not like Britain can't increase the acreage it farms. Or.. are we actually looking at starvation?"

Oliver leans back a little.

"They're gunna be short of bananas for a while, but we're not talking about that kinda shortage. It's just stuff people have gotten used to having."

I nod. "But Cadbury is still fine, because your distribution network uses Dolmen Gates."

Conrad nods. "More than that, we tied our suppliers into our Gate network. Unlike a lot of companies in our position, we've been able to maintain both production and sales."

"Good. Great. That was why I had the company buy them in the first place. I mean, not in expectation that the Sheeda would invade, but for the added speed and security."

He nods again. "But we're not using them twenty four seven. Even bringing everything in and out by Dolmen Gates, there is plenty of time where they're not active. And we've already got the contacts with the Atlanteans if we wanted to expand the network."

"Do you?"

"We've been thinking about going into mass transit. We've had a few approaches from other firms interested in using our routes, and the Department for International Trade has been quite helpful. But so far it's all been ad-hoc. We've spent a little time talking to other businesses operating in the same geographic areas that we do, but we haven't really been looking at it in a holistic way. Obviously, there's a very big market in mass transit, and we could try to capitalise on it more fully."

"If you think it's a good idea, you'll have my support."

"The problem is that this is well outside of our core competences. We don't… We don't have the expertise in-house to manage something like… Well, like replacing global shipping entirely."

"So you want to set up a company dedicated to international freight shipping through Dolmen Gates?"

"We can keep going as we do now. But if you want us to maximise revenue, yes, that would be the best way to go about it."

I nod, smiling.

"Did you ever listen to the speech I gave in February last year? The one where I complained at length about how people weren't using technology properly."

He nods. "I watched it when you started bidding against Kraft. So I take it that you're… Enthusiastic about the prospect?"

"Extremely so. But…" I frown. "Do you think that dedicated rail links might be better than road?"

"As I.. said, it's outside of my area of expertise."

"I mean, I… Read a book once where a company ran heavy goods trains through wormhole portals. Once they arrived at the local terminus the locals could ship whatever they were carrying out. The company ended up as an effective monopoly. Their trains didn't even travel that far."

"We wouldn't be a monopoly. The Atlanteans are selling to a variety of buyers."

And I imagine that my stock in Poseidonis isn't enough to get more than our fair share of new orders. Boris… Has quite a few. They haven't quite been able to replace the entire London Underground yet, but public acceptance is high and last time I checked in they were trying to head in that direction. It might be possible to talk him into switching back to-. No. No, those are all person-sized. The Gates we've been using for heavy goods transportation are lorry-sized, the next diameter size up. We could probably do something with them, but if we don't even have a company to do it with yet…

"Is anyone else trying to set up this kind of network?"

Oliver shakes his head.

"Just like it's not easy to move freight around, it's not all that easy to actually get the Dolmen Gates to where they need to go. The Atlanteans can handle coastal deliveries just fine, but any further in land and they can't deliver. And the wizards have to be on-site, and Atlanteans aren't all that great at handling hot or dry conditions."

"Alright. I've got no idea who could handle something like this, and I certainly can't run it myself. What do you want from me other than my approval?"

Conrad smiles like a bank manag-. Of course.

"With the state of international banking, normal business loans are-."

"You want me to fund the company?"

"Ideally. Not all of the start up costs; with your approval Cadbury can invest directly as a shareholder. Though since you.. fully own the-."

I nod.

"Yes, I spotted that."

It's not quite the sort of self-directed uplift I've wanted to see happen, not if I'm paying for it. But it's a start.

"Any reason not to that I'm not seeing?"

Oliver shrugs. "Last year I'd have said something about putting people out of work. But the Sheeda already put the sailors and dock workers out of work, and from the sounds of things you're planning on hiring plenty of loading dock workers."

"Economic change can be painful, but that's no reason not to carry it out." I nod. "Alright, I'm game. Talk to the Atlanteans about sizes… I think that customer sized heavy goods trains will be the best bet, but it's even less my area of core competence than it is yours."

Conrad nods. "Unless you have someone in mind to lead the project, I think it would work best to get the initial exploration done in-house, and recruit a management team once we've got a definite idea of what we want them to do."

"Sounds good to me. Oliver, are you alright to continue keeping an eye on things?"

"Yeah. I've actually liked getting back into the corporate world. There's a lot less pressure in this sort of role, and I don't have to hide my-" He winks at me. "-charity work."

"And have we convinced you to stop eating chocolate made with curdled milk?"

He smiles, raising his right hand defensively.

"Now let's not go crazy."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th July 2012
10:00 GMT -4

Director Armstrong is glowering at me the moment I walk in the door.

"Agent Grayven, what-?"

And that's when she sees Sam as he walks in behind me.

"General Lane."

Sam nods politely. "Director Armstrong. Grayven called me in due to the potential military ramifications of what happened yesterday, and the attacks on US service personnel."

I shrug. "There's no sense in having the same meeting twice, is there?"

And maybe you'll learn from this and be less of a bitch to your own secretary in future so you actually get some warning when I turn up with the Head of Future Warfare.

I mean, I'm not hopeful, but it could happen.

I generate a construct chair and sit down on this side of her desk, while Sam pulls over the room's other chair. I'm sure that this sort of debriefing is supposed to happen in a meeting room along with a panel of analysts and.. probably someone from the Department of Energy. And Larissa, of course. But Director Armstrong made it a one-on-one in her office because she wanted to have a mare at me. I'm not sure what she thought that would achieve, but she's got the soul of a terrier and doesn't let go even when she should. I agreed to be an agent. I did not agree to be a chew toy.

"So." I take a holoscreen emitter out of subspace and put it on her desk. A moment later it switches to showing highlights of Aberrance. "Had a busy day yesterday. Aberrance got attacked by someone I strongly suspect to be Ahri'ahn, the founder of Atlantean civilisation."

Sam frowns. "Atlantis sunk thousands of years ago. Shouldn't he be dead by now?"

"According to a few unageing people I've spoken to, he got into the habit of.. skipping periods. Time travelling forwards. He might be unageing as well, but most ancient magicians do that by binding themselves to a greater power and all the records I've seen say that he finds the idea of doing that revolting."

Sam raises his left eyebrow.

"All of them?"

"Circe had a pact with Hecate, Doctor Mist is supposed to have made a pact with the Spirit of Earth… Humans can't live indefinitely, but they only have to become a little bit inhuman to dodge that." I shrug and shake my head. "Or they can take a running jump into the deep end. But being really good at magic doesn't automatically make you unageing, otherwise Atlantis would have a lot more archmages."

And probably own the planet.

"Anyway, I've genomorphs doing interviews, but my provisional summary is that Ahri'ahn arrived in Aberrance around about mid-morning local time. He used a minor mind affect spell to encourage people to go along with what he wanted and took a tour of the place. We're still trying to map his actual route and make sure that we disenchant everyone he touched. We've got him on camera, so I'm not sure if he doesn't know about cameras or just didn't care."

The holoscreen displays a selection of the recovered images. He doesn't look like Mr. Knightley at all. His expression appears to be one of the same blank disinterest that he wore when I saw him, though he's clearly taking everything in.

"The actual attack started closer to mid-day, local time, when various objects began self-animating. Concrete, rock, in one case heavily radioactive material and in a couple of others transparent aluminium. Ahri'ahn combined this with a couple of automatic attack spells which my colleague Sunset Shimmer is still picking apart to see how they worked. As a result, a number of buildings including the chirurgical centre and the Uncorporation building were attacked. The current death toll stands at a hundred and fifty three, however due to Cranius's efforts most US service personnel will eventually make full recoveries."

Sam nods. "Were they the focus of the attack?"

"It didn't look like it, on the grounds that the building wasn't completely flattened and there were survivors. On the basis of what he said to me I'm tentatively concluding that he just wanted the augmentation process shut down, but he certainly wasn't shy about attacking military personnel."

The holoscreen shows images taken from the centre's cameras, as well as a diagram of the stages of the attack as best as we've been able to recreate it.

"As you can see, while not exactly well organised, Ahri'ahn was able to bring overwhelming power to bear on.. what is essentially a civilian installation very quickly. The survival of so many soldiers can be attributed to Cranius's quick thinking and triage skill."

Director Armstrong nods slowly. "What exactly did Cranius do?"

"Cut off their still-living heads and attached them to functional bodies, sometimes several at a time."

Sam's mouth drops open. "Seriously?" I nod. "And he made that work? No, of course he did. So they're just.. heads?"

"He's going to be creating new bodies for them as soon as he has the facilities. For the moment they're transferring them to temporary bodies so they can at least move around."

Bodies made in a rush by Mr. Fiendstein. Most of the soldiers found it funny… At least after checking that they were getting human bodies back at some point. But a few completely freaked out and had to be anesthetised.

Director Armstrong's eyes narrow slightly.

"Cranius can create entire human bodies."

"Cranius can create entire inhuman bodies. They're not going to get back exactly what they lost."

"Will they still be human?"

"They'll be made of human tissue, certainly. It's not a perfect fix but the alternative was death. May I continue?" She nods. "Shortly before my arrival Ahri'ahn attacked the Uncorporation building directly and forced entry into the secure vault where they keep the insectoids. They got out and immediately began attacking everyone they encountered. We haven't been able to identify everyone due to how the.. conversions go, so we probably won't know exactly who they turned until people are reported missing."

"Can it happen again?"

"There are levels of power against which static defence matters very little. There were armed guards throughout Aberrance, and the insectoids are kept behind metres of steel-reinforced concrete. But stopping magicians as powerful as Ahri'ahn isn't something that 'reasonable' measures can do. Cranius is going to get some magic protection, but this is like…"

Sam nods. "Trying to stop Superman."

"Superman still gets hard-countered by kryptonite. Sufficiently capable magic users can't be stopped by anything other than another thing like them."

Director Armstrong's jaw tightens. "Like Black Adam."

I nod. "He's a friend of mine. Since he's quite good at dealing with powerful magicians-."

"And Circe."

"Like Circe, yes. Another friend of mine I asked to assist. Wonderful things, friends. You might want to look into it."

Sam flashes me a warning glance.

"So how do we stop this happening again?"

Director Armstrong's expression is more 'hard' than 'concerned'. "And how do we kill Ahri'ahn?"

"Stopping it happening again would involve putting an archmage in every location you want to protect, with more on standby. After a certain point… All you can do is make attacking a place more trouble than it's worth. Killing Ahri'ahn would just prevent him doing it again, it wouldn't stop anyone else."

"That wasn't why I asked. He killed US servicemen and women. He's signed his death warrant."

I shake my head. "The US doesn't do those, I asked. And so I'll thank you not to imply that I should violate my oath of office. But to my mind killing him would involve bringing to bear power of a sort we don't have in a place with no bystanders. We need more magicians."

Sam nods. "Think Atlantis will be willing to help bring this guy down?"

I shrug. "We can always ask."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th July 2012
16:09 GMT -2

"Grayven."

I turn as King Orin and Queen Mera enter the… I think this is a drawing room, Queen Mera performing the spells required to seal the room against observation.

"And Richard." Orin sounds considerably more friendly as he says it, but the most Richard can manage in response is a slightly strained smile. "Is this League business?"

Richard tips his hat. "Your majesties. This is more in the manner of an emergency briefing, given that it particularly concerns Atlantis. And given its precise nature I thought that you might like to get ahead on this one."

He walks over to convenient conversational distance, his movements entirely unaffected by the pressure of the water around us. Richard was able to confirm that the original victim was Mr. Knightley; a simple matter of looking at his face and Mr. Wayne talking him through performing a genetic analysis whose results only he could see.

"Giovanni was able to locate the individual we believe to be responsible for the murder, and we have a reasonable idea as to why they were slain. He also encountered the probable-perpetrator, which is why he's sitting up and taking light refreshment under the care of his dutiful daughter rather than talking to you."

Orin nods, his eyes flicking to me for a moment.

"Who did it?"

"The gentleman whose face we couldn't see was named William Knightley. He'd been acting as a superhero under the name 'Arion'. And it seems that Arion -or Ahri'ahn, if you prefer- took exception to that. Among other things."

Orin's reaction is fairly muted; a slight frown. Mera on the other hand boggles.

"That's-. That-. Are you.. sure?" She shakes her head. "There are a great many Atlanteans who might take exception to someone from the surface appropriating his name."

I form a bubble of air around my right hand, then take a holoprojector out of subspace and use it to project an image of the man I encountered.

"Does he look familiar?"

Mera stares helplessly at the projection.

"He has… Statues, but they're thousands of years old. I have no idea how accurate they are."

"From our brief conversation I rather got the impression that he was the sort of man to insist on accuracy. Were they contemporary works?"

"You.. spoke to him?"

"Yeah. I'm actually here wearing my American Federal Agent hat. Ahri'ahn attacked Aberrance. Un-men, civilians and US soldiers were killed, and General Lane asked me to come down here and sound you out about the whole thing."

Richard nods, an uncharacteristic degree of sombreness entering his expression. "Yes. The only reason that Zatara isn't a killer insect right now is the intervention of Sunset Shimmer and.. Circe, of all people. The one positive take-away appearing to be that at least Circe's serious about the whole rehabilitation thing. She also.. confirmed that his face and voice match her recollection of Ahri'ahn."

Orin frowns, his eyes finding mine.

"What does General Lane want to know?"

"Whether or not Ahri'ahn… Well, let's start with the basics. Is he an Atlantean citizen, legally speaking?"

"Yes. He lived in Poseidonis immediately after the sinking, and was never exiled. There's a fairly limited precedent for people who were assumed to be dead for so long regaining citizenship, but I can't think of a reason why it wouldn't happen."

"The United States and Atlantis don't have an extradition treaty. If Ahri'ahn came to your attention, would you be prepared to hand him over?"

"I'm still trying to get my head around the idea that he's still alive. I have no interest in sheltering a murderer…" He's looking me directly in the eyes as he says it. "Though if he's as powerful as he's supposed to be, I don't see why he'd want to come here."

"I, ah…" Richard looks away in pantomimed-awkwardness. "Don't mean to be rude, but do you have the ability to stop him if he did?"

Orin looks at Mera, who shakes her head helplessly.

"I have no way to know. Clearly, he had-. He has a brilliant mind, but I have no way to accurately assess how his skills compare to those of modern Atlanteans. How did you defeat him?"

"He said that he wanted to kill all of the Un-men as 'abominations', but he also stole a book which he claimed was his property. After he recovered it, Adom hit him with an Atum-assisted punch. His spells broke and he left in a hurry. But as I'm sure you can sympathise, Adom has a country to run. It isn't practical for him to move to Aberrance or spend his time hunting Ahri'ahn down."

Orin nods.

"I assume that Captain Marvel could do the same thing?"

"Assuming that he's been practising his focuses, yes. Adom is what Marvel might grow into; application isn't an innate part of the power. Look, I think I should… Double check, given our personal history. Is Ahri'ahn becoming active again going to be a political problem for you? I mean, I imagine the Second Coming of Jesus would cause ructions in even a moderate Christian country, and this is the man who literally designed you."

"Ahri'ahn-." / "He was-."

Orin and Mera speak at once, and Orin defers to his wife. Whether due to her Atlantean upbringing or her focus on magic I don't know.

"He was never worshipped in Atlantis, and his original works are no longer taught in school. Thaumaturgy has advanced a great deal since his time, and if he has been somewhere on the surface, I.. doubt that he has been able to keep up. One man, no matter how brilliant, cannot equal all of the greatest minds of a civilisation."

I nod. "Alright. Let us know if you hear anything. I've got no reason to believe that he's hostile to Atlantis, but you might want to redouble your defences anyway. I'll-."

"Grayven."

Orin's giving me a stern glare. I smile at him and raise my eyebrows in polite enquiry.

"Yes?"

"How many people did Ahri'ahn kill today?"

"We're not entirely certain yet. A hundred and fifty or thereabouts."

"And how many people do you think Black Manta killed over the years?"

Oh, that's how he's-.

"I don't know. More than that, probably. Though he was more discriminating. And of course, nobody -including Circe herself- knows how many people Circe has killed. And yeah, if Mister Hyde had killed anyone I cared about I'd have killed him and his with absolutely no regrets." I shrug. "I certainly appreciate you pardoning him, but... You didn't have to. You chose pragmatism, and I'm grateful. But unless Ahri'ahn offers the United States government something of massive value, I doubt that they'll make the same decision."

He nods.

"For some reason, I wasn't expecting you to be that direct about it."

"Real politics is realpolitik. I mean, if you could have killed or captured Mister Hyde without my help, you'd have done that, right?"

"Of course."

"And Diana would have gleefully captured Circe and imprisoned her permanently, and as… Far as I'm aware never tried to address her motives. In practical terms then… If Atlantis caught Ahri'ahn, I suppose that would put you in a stronger negotiating position with regard to what happened to him."

I bow.

"Your majesties. Thank you for seeing me at short notice."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th January 2006
08:15 GMT -5

Komand'r glares at me, though given her current mood swings it's a lot less intimidating than it used to be.

"Why not?!"

"Komand'r, love of my life, mother of my children-."

She folds her arms across her chest and looks away.

"Child. You get one. I watched those videos and I'm not going through that more than once."

"We don't know how many you're having this time."

The corners of her mouth turn downwards, and her eyes widen as her head slowly turns back towards me.

"That's wonderful-."

She blinks, grimaces, then flies over to a nearby asteroid, which she viciously headbutts! The asteroid explodes, flying out across the void, a small number of fragments entering Zamaron's atmosphere below us.

That-. That's probably not going to reach the ground.

"Gah! Stupid rock!"

"Komand'r, stop trying to injure yourself. High stress levels are bad for the baby."

Her hands go to her abdomen and for a second her face is a picture of horror. Then she jerks her hands to her side and glares at me again.

"No taking advantage of my baby brain!"

"I'm not going to hit you whenever you start being nice to people."

"You're being stupid." She rolls her eyes. "I know you're not strong enough to actually hurt me with your fist. You can use that electric rod thing you used in Polokistan."

"I'm not going to-."

"Why not? You used it on me before."

Our one foray into bondage. It doesn't really work when one party is as tough as she is and the psychology is different when that party used to be an actual slave.

"Komand'r, it only lasts a couple of months. Then you'll be back to normal."

"But what if I've lost my edge by then?!"

I float over to her, taking her hands in mine.

"Komand'r, you have achieved a level of spitefulness which surpasses every Tamaranean before you. I assure you: you have more than enough bitchiness to get through this with your character intact."

"You're being so nice about-."

Her face twitches, then she raises her right fist and-.

I wrap a construct manacle around her right forearm and pull it away with construct chains before she can follow through on her initial impulse to punch herself in the head.

"N-."

And then I grab her left forearm with another manacle.

"No. Komand'r, stop."

She tries pulling against them for a moment, but while she can make progress she can't make her arms move anything like fast enough to hit herself. After a moment she realises that too and sags in her bonds.

I float closer so that our heads are level. She's looking down, avoiding my eyes. I reach out with my right hand and gently tilt her head back up, meeting my concerned gaze with an expression of tiredness. She looks wrung out, actually. It's a surprising moment of honesty; she usually hates showing weakness like this.

"Komand'r, talk to me."

"'m scared."

"Okay. What about?"

"You make me feel… Things. And that's… Okay. I didn't… I didn't like it to start with, but it's-. It's fine. But now my own body's doing it without you even being there. I've liked people before so liking you more isn't that big a deal but this is-. I don't like everyone. It's like there's this alien thing in me that's changing who I am. It's like the-."

She squirms.

"It's like the Gordanians."

Ahh…

Komand'r… Hasn't wanted to talk about exactly what happened while she and her sister were slaves. And since we burned their civilisation to the ground I didn't think it was worth pressing her over; violence is a great healer.

It seems I was mistaken. That… Or we didn't kill quite enough, I suppose.

"There might be a way to stop it. Some sort of hormone regulating impl-."

"There isn't. And if there ever was it was one of the things that we lost when Tamaran got burned."

A red ring… Might work. She'd certainly end up getting all of her anger back. But I'm not sure what the ritual would do to the foetus. The other alternative…

"Do you not want to have this child?"

She rolls her eyes. "It's a bit late-." She blinks as I raise my eyebrows. "Oh. No, no, I don't-. That's not-. No."

"Okay. I want to have children with you. Do-."

"And I want to have children with you!"

She blinks, her hands coming up to cover her mouth and her eyes giving the impression that she hadn't intended to say that.

"Was that you or the hormones?"

"Iiiiiiiii think it was me."

Hm.

"Look, you know this isn't like what the Gordanians did, because unsettling though it is it's something that every Tamaranean mother has gone through at least once. I'm sure that you'll rise to this challenge as you have every other. Or are you going to keep whining about it like a little bitch who doesn't know what she wants?"

Her eyes glow.

"I'll show you who's a bitch."

Glowing red horns appear on my forehead.

"I'm not as fragile as I used to be."

"Um."

We both turn, and see the small crowd of Zamarons gathered to watch us.

"We were going to castigate you about the meteorite. But this looks far more interesting."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Maladaptive

21st July 2012
08:47 GMT -7

"No, no, not the fights."

I shake my head as Lantern Rrab splits her attention between me and the Coast City traffic below us.

"I mean Earth societies. The way Earth civilisation works. I know what the fights are like, but I've never lived anywhere else for any length of time."

"Does this have something to do with why you sent me that book concerning… Human… Intimate relations?"

"Sort of. Any society is going to have to have laws against theft and assault in order to function, but rules and customs concerning personal conduct can… Vary more. Something that's perfectly normal where you come from might be highly offensive to people somewhere else, without there being an obvious sign you could see in advance. And since I've never been to your homeworld, I felt that a primer might help you avoid some of... You heard about the-?"

"The spider?" She ducks her head as she smiles. "Yes."

"So you see where I'm coming from."

"According to Ghia'ta, it's your behaviour towards Zatanna that I should avoid copying."

"So avoid copying it. But I wasn't just wondering whether or not you find humans attractive, because I know that you do. But relationships between people from different cultures can be awkward, and that's only made bigger if-."

"But you got me a book on relationships." Her eyes narrow slightly. "If Wonder Woman or Troia lassoed you and I asked you why you chose that subject, what would you say?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Green Lanterns must learn to be criminal investigators. Not every criminal will fly up to us wearing a colourful costume. So I've been spending time with Robin. He says that if someone volunteers something then they're probably thinking about it."

"Jordan's a good man. As my culture defines that concept. And that's not the only-"

Her eyes widen. "A-ahh…"

"-reasonable definition of good, and… I can understand why-."

"I didn't need-." She nods. "Hal's always been very clear about how he sees me. Even his mother's been mothering me."

"Okay. I'll consider that handled-."

"Ghia'ta thinks I should still… Try to change his mind. Slowly."

"Ghia'ta is a wonderful and undoubtably well-intentioned person. However, I think that she's been… Adversely affected by growing up in a single colour monocultural environment. Intellectually, I appreciate-."

Her ring blinks, then her eyes shimmer. Her eyes drop to the roads below us at once.

"Something important?"

"A report of dangerous driving."

I nod. Dangerous driving isn't necessarily a serious crime by itself, until the dangerousness overflows into vehicular manslaughter. And stopping a car is much less easy for normal police than it is for-

Lantern Rrab stoops and swoops, diving down towards one of the city's main thoroughfares.

-us. I wait a moment as I have my ring analyse patterns of traffic movement-. There we are. And then I raise my right forefingers to my forehead,

step out

and reappear just ahead of the hurtling car. They're driving fast, but a quick scan of the objects and vehicles that they've passed shows no damage at all. I watch as they weave around traffic at an intersection with considerable skill. If they're getting someone to hospital-.

I frown at the confused mess of entrapment and-. The man inside the car is banging on the sunroof, his hands off the steering wheel which is turning on its own. His foot's off both the accelerator and brake pedals but I can see the car do both.

Automatic drive system gone very wrong?

Lantern Rrab swoops down, a band of green energy reaching out and forming a car lift construct under the car. The car tries to swerve again as she lifts it clear of the road and up into the Coast City sky.

Huh. Clearly something odd going on there, but I'll let Lantern Rrab take the lead.

She flies level with the driver side window and looks at the man inside. Who rather than winding the window down and explaining himself instead beats his fists against the inside of the window. But no sound gets transmitted through the glass. Lantern Rrab frowns, then scans the door, light seeping around the locking mechanism.

Lantern Rrab looks confused. "I've forced the lock but the door's still stuck."

And the wheels are still turning. Continuing to look like automatic control gone wrong, except that I can't detect a control signal or any way to receive it. A more detailed scan of the car reveals no automatic drive system. It doesn't even have an automatic gearbox.

"I suggest cutting through the glass."

"Do human cars do this?"

"Not usually. This car doesn't appear to have any self-drive systems."

A protractor construct appears and scratches a circle in the glass. The man inside realises what Lantern Rrab is about to do and climbs into the back seat. Once he's clear the protractor spins up, slowly eating through the glass-.

There's a crack as it punches through, a neat circle of glass falling into the car.

"Oh thank God!" The man leans through the gap between the front seats. "Can you get me out of here?"

"The door's stuck; I'll have to rip it off."

"Go right ahead! I'm insured!"

Lantern Rrab nods, and a mechanical clamp construct unfolds on each side of the door, connected to a large robotic arm. The arm strains for a moment and then there's a tearing noise as the door comes free.

I extend a filament to the passenger and lift him out while Lantern Rrab scans the car.

"Sir?" He glances down at the city below us before returning his attention to me. "Do you know what happened?"

"The f-. Car started driving itself! I got in and turned the ignition, then the doors locked and it took off!"

"Do you know where it was heading?"

"That was… That was the route I usually take to work. But I never drive like that!"

"Did the car say anything to you?"

"Just the radio. It was playing, I didn't… Turn it on."

Curious. I turn to Lantern Rrab.

"It's your case. But I suggest taking this gentleman to his place of work."

She nods. "We'll start there."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st July 2012
08:52 GMT -7

Lantern Rrab sets the rogue car down in the car park, letting the wheels touch the tarmac while still keeping hold of it just in case. But the wheels remain stationary-

"You have arrived at your destination. Have a nice day."

-and… And that came from the radio because the car doesn't have satellite navigation. Ring, are any radio stations in the area playing that at the moment?

None found.

I set Steven McCrae down next to his car, which he looks at with a degree of uncertainty.

"So… What do I do with it now?"

Lantern Rrab shrugs. "It's your car, sir." She takes-. I feel a moment of pride as she takes a rune stone out of one of her pockets and holds it out towards the car. Nothing. "I can't detect anything wrong with it, and you clearly weren't in control of what the vehicle was doing. I'll submit a report to the police. I can either leave the car here with you, or I can take it to the police impound yard so they can try investigating it."

"You can't find anything wrong with it?"

Hm. I send filaments into the car, poking through the interior plastic and metal and into the car's interior mechanisms. Just in case there's some sort of scan-blocking system. No, everything's more or less where it should be. There's a little bit of wear and a little bit of rust… Nothing that would stop it being road-legal, but that does suggest that what I'm detecting is what's actually there.

"Not a thing, I'm afraid."

I use a construct to take the door from Lantern Rrab, then reattach it. I leave the circle of glass out, because he might want to shout for help if that happens again.

"Cars don't just decide to drive themselves." He then looks uncertain. "Do they?"

"Not in my experience. Lantern Rrab?"

"Auto-drive's not that uncommon on advanced worlds, and sometimes they go badly wrong. But on Earth that sort of thing only really happens because people follow instructions from their navigation aides when they shouldn't."

"Is there a car-god or something?"

"Not that I'm aware of, though there probably will be one eventually."

Might be worth having Vulcan take a look at it, if nothing else turns up. He's got more car experience than Hephaestus.

"So you've got no way to know whether that'll just happen again or not?"

Lantern Rrab shakes her head.

"Not at this time. Orange Lantern?"

"The… Only possibility that comes to mind is a build-up of magic in the environment which 'caught' your car while it was passing through. That wouldn't explain why only you were affected, but it would explain why we can't find a trace on the car itself; it would only be there while the effect was active."

"So how do I stop it happening again?"

"I suggest an offering to Hephaestus."

"I'm Christian."

"Then I suggest an offering to Saint Frances of Rome."

"Ah… I'd have to check with my pastor whether we acknowledge him or not."

"Don't bother; it wouldn't work anyway."

"Heh." He bows his head. "Shit. You better take it. Just… Ah." He fishes a business card out of his jacket and hands it to Lantern Rrab. "Just let me know where it ends up so I can pick it up when they're done. You know, I… I've got the company medical today. Just hope my heart rate doesn't mess it up."

"I'm sure you'll be fine."

Lantern Rrab nods. "Have a nice day, sir. And good luck with your medical examination."

We both rise off the ground, Lantern Rrab carrying the car with her.

"Hephaestus?"

"Olympian god of the forge. Nice chap. Do you have a contact in the police?"

"Yes… But I don't think that the local police are going to find anything."

"Probably not. But it's their job to try. And they will be looking for the car -and us- by now." I look at her with my eyebrows raised. "What do you want to do?"

"Tell them what's happening, and then… Can we ask Hephaestus to look at it? Since we know it's not technology or regular magic."

I nod, eyebrows returning to the 'at rest' position.

"I suggest checking with the police first. And probably with Lantern Jordan."

She nods.

"Funny thing. I've got a medical examination coming up, too. Though I imagine that mine will be a little more thorough."

"With who? The Justice League?"

"No, the Controllers."

She frowns at me. "They didn't do that already?"

"Hinon Hee Hannanan did a quick check-up, but given what's happened to me I thought that it was a good idea to get something more in depth."

"When I got to Oa, that was the first thing that happened."

That surprises me. Power rings have built-in translators because it's virtually impossible for a Lantern to learn the hundreds of languages they'd need to in order to communicate with everyone in their assigned Sector. For much the same reason, the Green Lantern Corps doesn't have a chief medical officer. It's virtually impossible for anyone to have the necessary training to know how to treat all of the different species that make up the Corps.

"I thought that they usually leave medical matters to the Lantern's homeworld's physicians?"

"For long term things. But your partner might need to get told how to do first aid or field surgery, so they need a record of your exact state of health. Why doesn't the Orange Lantern Corps do that?"

I shrug.

"If an Orange Lantern is conscious, they can use their ring to heal themselves. And… Clarissi Dox organised the standard recruitment process. He tries to avoid me if he doesn't need me."

"Why?"

"I got him the job, am more powerful than him and I bailed him out when our first attack on the Reach went wrong. I undermine his authority, and neither of us want Corps members being confused about who's in charge. You contact the police, I contact Vulcan?"

She nods, then holds up her ring. "Call Jeremiah Jordan."

I lift my left hand to my left ear.

"Call Zencha Automotive."

"Calling."

"Yeah?"

"Good afternoon. Could you put me through to Seth Lans?"

"He's busy. Who is this?"

"A friend of his brother's. And I have a very interesting job for him."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st July 2012
16:34 GMT

We lost a little time getting the car towed, because though I don't set much store by them myself I know that Vulcan likes his secret identity. My hair is currently red and Lantern Rrab is using a holographic disguise to alter her skin tone while her hair is hair sprayed solid to conceal her ears. She could get away with faintly orange skin in the Fake Tan State, but here in Italy it would stick out quite badly.

"How exactly do you know Seth?"

The owner of the place, Antonio Zencha, is perfectly happy to accept his most capable mechanic's oddities in return for excellent work and -according to Vulcan- copious amounts of unpaid overtime. But he can't help but be curious about a couple of people turning up with no notice and getting bumped to the head of the queue.

"I met his brother in Greece. He referred me."

I've set my ring to translate me into Italian but with a strong English accent. Really, I shouldn't have bothered. English schools teach French, German and Spanish at GCSE level but I heard more about Latin lessons than Italian ones. Me being fluent -even with an accent- doesn't make sense. I mean, Vulcan told me how to get in contact if I needed to, but I treated secret identity lessons in the same way as I treated hand to hand combat lessons; I listened when I had to and paid it no mind afterwards.

Mr. Zencha nods. It's plausible, but there's obviously a big gap between 'I met his brother' and 'it was worth me coming here to get him to look at my car'.

"You-?"

"Hey Mister Lans!"

Lantern Rrab walks across Mr. Zencha's line of sight as Vulcan emerges from his workshop. Mr. Zencha's eyes follow her bare legs and-. And I roll my eyes, deliberately step sideways to block his view and then walk towards Vulcan myself.

Vulcan frowns at Lantern Rrab for a moment. He's never met her and she isn't on the invite list. On the other hand, he can almost certainly tell that she isn't human, and the lack of any innate magic is going to suggest 'alien'. I am in the know so she should get a pass…

"Hello. Car playing up?"

"Yes! It's like it's trying to drive itself!"

"Oh. That doesn't sound too complicated." He waves to Mr. Zencha. "I've got this, Antonio. Shouldn't take long."

Clearly still curious, but with no casus inquisiti he decides that he can't justify hanging around when he's got a business to run. He walks back to the front office and Vulcan watches the driver of the recovery lorry finish unloading the car.

"Here okay?"

Vulcan nods, waving him off. "That's great, Giuseppe. You have a nice day."

"Until we meet again."

Giuseppe gets back in the driving seat, Vulcan smiling and waving until he pulls out of the garage and back onto the road. Then Vulcan turns to us.

"What's the problem, then?"

"The owner got in the car to drive to work this morning, and the car locked him in and drove itself. Not only does it not have a self-drive system, but it doesn't even have integrated computer control. There's no mechanical way it can have happened, and we can't detect a trace of magic."

"Hm."

Vulcan walks over to the car and lays his hand on the bonnet.

"I don't know much about nanotechnology."

"I-" I shake my head. "-do. Someone could use an assembler swarm to build links, but they'd still be there. Or the nanotech would. Nanobots are fragile; the only working assembler I know of on Earth has to use molecular vibration control technology to keep them intact whenever they do anything energy intensive."

Vulcan nods. "So you think it's a spontaneous manifestation. That is up my street. You got the key?"

Lantern Rrab makes a key construct and offers it to him. He takes it, pulls open the door and puts it into the ignition.

"Hm. I can't feel anything obvious, but you already checked for that."

He gets in, turning the key and switching on the radio. It's not digital and isn't tuned to any Italian stations, so all that it emits is quiet static. He waits a moment, then lays both hands on the wheel and frowns thoughtfully.

"Yes. Yes, I do recognise this. Heph once showed me a weapon that Queen Hippolyta remote controlled-." He looks at me. "You know who her father is?"

"Yes."

"She doesn't use it much, but she's got some of his power over tools of war. This car feels like her old sword did."

"So there is a God of Cars?"

"No. Not yet."

Lantern Rrab gives her head a small shake.

"What do you mean by that?"

Vulcan gets out of the car, walks around to the front and opens the bonnet.

"They're ubiquitous. Useful. Status symbols. But most people don't understand them. There are rules and rituals; it's a shame that Atlanteans haven't studied how mechanical objects gain arcane momentum." He looks at the engine as it idles, holding his right hand out to feel either the temperature or the magic. Or both, presumably. "They're too specific for a titan, but I wouldn't be surprised if a God of Cars emerged from the Dream eventually. Or an existing god rebranded."

"Re..? Branded? Gods can just choose to be a god of something else?"

"No, no." He shakes his head, frowning as he focuses his attention on the battery. "But a God of Journeys could try to associate themselves with cars rather than… Horses, or ships. It doesn't always take, and if their cult is already extinct then it's probably too late, but gods have managed to switch before. It got pretty common when Christianity was spreading across Europe and all the little tribal gods wanted a safe harbour."

I blink. "Wait, you're saying that the whole 'turning gods into saints' thing was their idea?"

"Of course." He looks my way, apparently surprised that I'm surprised. "It wasn't even the first time for a lot of them. One tribe conquers another… The losing war god needs to find himself a niche or he'll probably get killed. It's just the single biggest campaign of role-switching, and why Ēostre wears a bunnygirl outfit these days." He grins. "Which isn't something you forget, let me tell you."

"Have you done that?"

"Sure. Metallurgy was a change for me. I used to be a god of fire and volcanoes. But you see the link." She nods. "One of you, put this on the car lift."

Hm? Oh. I check our environment, then pick up the car and put it on the already-raised car lift. Vulcan walks underneath it and takes a look at the underside.

"Yeah, I think I see what happened. Did whoever owned this car live next to an old road?"

"It was in America, so no, but I know what you mean. Spontaneous manifestation?"

"It feels like that. But it doesn't sound like that. How was it driving?"

"Fast, and it ignored traffic laws. It didn't hit anything, but there were a lot of near misses."

"Yeah. That doesn't track. A manifestation should still be steerable, just stiff. Cars have always been designed to be steered. And all the Neo-Vodun stuff I've read insists that cross roads are ritual focuses. It shouldn't cross one when it's not supposed to. My best guess right now is that someone induced a manifestation and directed it. This guy have any enemies?"

"Not that we know of."

"Does he know any pranksters? It doesn't sound like they were trying to kill him, just shake him up."

"We'll check, but America doesn't have a lot of magicians and those it does have are usually traditionalists."

"I'll take a deeper look, but that'll take a while." He waves us off. "Come back tomorrow, see what I have then."

 

[Mr Zoat]

18th September 2010
17:33 GMT -5

"…concern that it was even practical to make the attempt."

Batman closes the holographic windows showing scenes from the attempted mass break out from Belle Reve, leaving us with the diagram of the site.

"The exercise for today will involve you studying the security arrangements for Belle Reve Penitentiary and suggesting improvements. These will be reviewed by the Justice League, and the best will be forwarded to the Department of Justice."

Wallace -whose attention had been wavering when he realised that there wasn't a mission or a physical exercise planned- suddenly comes alert again and grins at Richard. Richard smirks back, already tapping the buttons on his arm computer which will call up the pertinent data.

"If you require more information than is in the database, you may submit the requests yourself. Dismissed." Batman deactivates the holoscreen and heads for the zeta tube.

Richard immediately connects his computer to the cave's holographic systems, generating a three dimensional model of the prison grounds as the rest of us form an arc to look at it.

Kon shrugs. "I dunno. It all looks pretty solid to me."

"Can't be that secure." Richard's eyes dart mischievously towards him. "Batman stuck you in."

Artemis's eyes narrow. "Do people just not do fingerprints any more? Or blood tests? You're both aliens; they should have known that you weren't the Terrors."

I raise my eyebrows. "Did Batman arrange things through official channels?"

Richard shakes his head. "Couldn't take the risk of tipping someone off. Had to make the switch on-site."

Artemis's mouth falls open slightly. "Seriously? So no one checked who-" She turns to Kon and M'gann. "-the two of you were between you getting arrested and being taken to Belle Reve?"

"Well…" M'gann looks uncomfortable as she shakes her head. "No. I… Guess they just trust the Justice League to give them the.. right.. people..?"

I nod. "I am reminded of the Parable of the Red Hood."

Wallace blinks, then rolls his eyes. "You wanna explain that, Oh El?"

Richard tries to work it out first.

"The Joker started out calling himself the Red Hood. But he always goes to Arkham. Can't see a parable there."

"The Joker started out as a failed comedian a pre-existing gang hired to be the fall guy. They stuck a red helmet on his head and called him 'boss' when the police were listening. He'd never fired a gun before that evening, and he wasn't even the first person they'd hired to act in that capacity."

"tchk-Hah!" Artemis gasp-laughs in disbelief. "Seriously? That's how the Joker started out?"

Richard tilts his head to the left. "So his first night out was the Ace Chemical Processing Plant theft?" I nod, and he grimaces. "I guess that explains why he thinks everything is a joke. But I'm still not seeing the Parable."

"The police assumed that the one person in the mask was the main threat. The leader. They let their schema run without checking anything. The Justice League are honest, so there's no need to check that the people they hand over are who they say they are. Even in a world of shapeshifters, telepaths, mind altering magic and-" I raise my eyebrows at Kon. "-hair dye."

Kaldur nods. "In Atlantis, the identities of prisoners would be confirmed with magic at each stage of their transfer. I do not think that the American prison system has enough magicians for that to be practical."

Wallace looks thoughtful for a moment. "No, but there are some super-fast blood test machines that could check blood groups. And fingerprint and iris recognition scanners. Belle Reve could use those to check prisoners on the way in."

That makes sense. "How expensive are those?"

Richard brings up a new screen. "Not that expensive, actually. The fastest DNA analyser that exists can do a work-up in about four hours, but it's the size of a small building and costs…" He blinks. "They could probably build another prison. But the rest is easily under their budget."

Kaldur nods. "And magic?"

Artemis shrugs. "Where are they gunna find that many wizards?"

I raise my eyebrows. "What is the dollar to Atlantean drachma exchange rate?"

Kaldur bows his head slightly. "There is not enough trade between the two countries for a rate of exchange to have been established. But if we were to use the value of the metal, a single drachma is approximately four grams of silver."

I nod. "About three dollars. Would Atlantis be willing to allow America to hire Atlantean wizards, assuming the Department of Justice could match their salaries?"

"I cannot think of a reason why my king would have an objection in principle, though such an agreement would have to be negotiated at the highest levels."

"Okay." Richard nods. "Better prisoner IDs. But that doesn't help with corrupt members of staff, power suppressors not working or just the fact that most of the prisoners are really dangerous."

"Maybe… It just… Can't be fixed."

Richard smiles. "I'll let Batman know. Good job, team!"

"No, no, I mean… We can't make a prison completely secure. People can be corrupted or threatened. Computers can be hacked. Walls can be blasted down. Heck, if Mister J'onzz hadn't scanned Hugo Strange's mind he might have ended up as Warden, and that would have been a disaster. Short of creating a religious cult of prison guards who can't conceive of the idea of not doing their jobs with fanatical devotion, there's no decision-making body that can't be… Worked around."

Kaldur looks at me. "Then what do you suggest?"

"I read a story a while ago, where a space-faring race had to deal with fanatically violent prisoners of war. The prison camp they built consisted of a series of air tight cells built on an airless planet. There was an automated system for removing waste and bringing them food, and they could communicate via the computer network. But they were never face to face with other prisoners or guards. They couldn't escape because there was nowhere to escape to. If they broke out of their cell they would die of vacuum exposure within a minute or two. The only way to leave was for a space craft to dock with their cell."

Wallace frowns. "You wanna move the prisoners off Earth?"

"Their aim was to break through the concrete and steel of Belle Reve, then run for it in Louisiana. They worked around all of the security, which is…" I gesture at the screen. "Actually pretty good, for the most part. It wouldn't be all that expensive to build a system to send prisoners to… The surface of Mars? Or T-"

M'gann frowns. "Hey!"

"-itan by zeta tube. What, Martians don't use the surface of Mars."

"That doesn't mean we want all of Earth's most dangerous prisoners sent to us!"

"Alright. The Moon or Titan."

"What about-" Kon shrugs. "-the gravity?"

"What about it? They would probably get some muscle wastage, but honestly? By the time people are getting sent to Belle Reve-. Hang on." I call up the reoffending figures for people sent to Belle Reve. Yeah. "By the time people get sent to Belle Reve, they've pretty much missed the window for rehabilitating them. I don't see how them coming back weaker is a bad thing."

"I…" Richard frowns thoughtfully. "Don't know. Zeta tubes draw a lot of power. And I don't think the DoJ is allowed to ship prisoners outside of the US. But they could use zeta tubes to move prisoners and guards around. With teleportation there's no need for individual cells to be connected to… Anything, really."

Kaldur nods. "I believe this warrants further consideration."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th January 2006
08:23 GMT -5

Zamaron is busier than I was expecting. Towers in the styles of a dozen species cover the planet, interspersed at apparently random intervals with cultivated areas of greenery. I can even see what appears to be a vertical farm in skyscraper form, a hollow column of greenery covered in flowers and fruit.

The Zamarons themselves are easy enough to spot. The ones acting as our escort all look like human women in hoplite armour, their hair done up in curls. But I've caught sight of others dressed the same way but wearing faces of other species. They're still all women and all humanoid, but I've seen blue, purple, orange and yellow skin, two eyes, four and six, conventionally attractive and unconventionally… Unconventional.

I assume. I don't know all of these species.

There are plenty of aliens, too, male and female and children. Though none are in the air as the Zamarons appear to all be, and there's a certain… Distance between the two groups even when they're close together. I haven't seen any non-humanoids yet, but we've only flown over a relatively small part of one urban area. I also haven't seen any male Zamarons, Guardians, Controllers, or any other Maltusians.

Komand'r doesn't look impressed.

"What's so great about this place?"

"It's not quite what I was expecting. But-."

"What were you expecting?"

"More violet crystal. And fewer men."

One of the Zamarons looks around, her artfully styled left eyebrow arched.

"The crystals are for the direction and storage of energy. Why would we make buildings with them?"

"Why do the Guardians make all their buildings look like giant lanterns?"

She rolls her eyes.

"A truly mortifying lack of imagination. Why do you think we dumped them?"

Blackfire wrinkles her nose. "Aren't Guardians, like, three-" She makes a 'you must be this high' gesture with her right hand. "-feet tall? And don't they all look like babies?"

The Zamaron huffs. "Those characteristics didn't help." Then she smiles. "Now we attract paramours from across the universe! Most of whom have feelings they don't mind talking about, a reasonable knowledge of armour couture and an acceptance that we're more important than their stupid Lantern Corps!"

Ah.

"Bad break up?"

"I'm perfectly fine! Why does EVERYONE say I'm not?!"

I.. look awkwardly at one of the other Zamarons, who subtly shakes her head and makes a 'stop' gesture. I nod, and float away from Unexploded Zamaron and towards head-shaking Zamaron.

"I wanted to talk to someone about holding our wedding here. Is that really something I need to speak to your current Queen about?"

"Weddings are a celebration of love, one of the two most important things in Zamaron society."

Komand'r frowns in a 'I'm nearly interested' sort of way.

"Oh? What's the other one?"

"Punching people in the face."

"Huh?"

"I'm one point two billion years old. Have you got any idea how many cities I've seen? Heck, this is the seven hundredth one I've seen just at this geographic location alone. Seriously, razed to the ground, built up again, seven hundred times. Only two things still make me feel alive: genuine emotional attachment to another intelligent being." She smiles beatifically. "And the brutal rush-" Her expression becomes a little more manic. "-of bloody combat."

Komand'r nods. "Oh, I totally get you. This… 'Love' thing's kind of new for me, but I've always liked fighting."

The Zamaron glances my way. "He is your first?"

Komand'r hesitates.

"When you say first..?"

"The first person for whom you have felt romantic love."

"Oh! Yeah, definitely."

"You don't sound very convincing."

Komand'r huffs.

"Ugh, fine. He's the first person I think I can be completely honest with, the first I trust enough to be w-." Twitch. "Vuln-." Twitch. "I don't have to constantly assert myself when I'm around him. Who I know will be there for me because he's proven that he loves me too, who I can trust not to abuse that trust."

The Zamaron looks at me.

"And can she?"

"You're not going to ask me if she's my first?"

She shrugs. "I probably would if I was being fair, but we picked female forms for a reason and I'm not."

Komand'r frowns at her. "I am." She looks curiously at me. "I never asked that. Am I?"

"Yes. I love your passion, your fury-."

"That's just a tamaranean thing. I want to hear about me."

"I've never been more alive than in the time I've known you. Your adventurousness, your vivacity, your determination to wring every bit of excitement out of life made me actually embrace what we do rather than stumble from job to job out of a sense of obligation, or… Because I couldn't think of anything better to do. Heck, the way I put aside all of my reservations about letting my anger and hate run free, the.. whole way I was able to channel the Lesser Sign of the Butcher… That was you, what you showed me."

Komand'r's eyes are wide and watery as she drifts over to me and lays her hands on my chest.

"Awww…"

And then head-shaking Zamaron drops a pair of necklaces over our heads.

We both blink, pulling away slightly to look at… The glowing violet crystal attached to each of them.

"Congratulations! You're married."

…

Okay. That's.. why we're here… But…

"Isn't there supposed to be a ceremony?"

"Usually we send a couple who want to be married by us on an epic quest to prove their worth and test their love, but we heard about Vega and you two have pretty much done all that. The Queen can officiate a ceremony with guests if you want, but this is the important bit. Two people who complete each other finding each other."

I think I-. I close my eyes-. I can feel Komand'r through the violet crystal. Komand'r blinks as she realises the same thing.

I hold out my left hand to her.

"Let's go and see the Queen."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
09:03 GMT -5

"…where the laws of physics can just change whenever they feel like it!"

Kara's diatribe ends and she takes a deep breath. But there's no red glow from her eyes and she hasn't crushed anything.

"Technically, the laws of physics aren't changing. You're just-."

"Yes, I… Know. I'm just seeing a new subset. But this.. isn't something Krypton had to deal with. There aren't any meta-kryptonians. And we haven't had any wizards for centuries."

"You had wizards?"

"Supposedly. Back in our ancient history. But… I don't know if they actually used magic or just science more advanced than what their contemporaries had."

I think for a moment.

"When Krypton was at its most extroverted, did you encounter any aliens who used magic?"

She shakes her head. "One species with minor telepathic abilities, which we studied and learned to replicate technologically."

"You-? Have you told Ted about that? Because-."

"Yes, but the Thinker's Cap is already more advanced than what we had. The difference is that everyone who worked on it understood how and why it worked."

"Still stuck on that?"

"It's not that we're stuck, it's that we have a working device that we don't fully understand. If it's supposed to induce telepathy, how is it giving Bobo the ability to communicate in complex sentences? I'm not entirely comfortable with how enthusiastic humans are about finding uses for devices they don't completely understand."

"Do you understand every device you use?"

She blinks.

"Yes."

"And on Krypton?"

"Not all of them; I was still in school. But everything I used on a regular basis."

"Huh. I'm impressed. Was that an approach that was debated, or did it just seem natural to every kryptonian?"

"Kryptonians prac-. Practiced oligarchical democracy. We debate everything. But I don't remember any serious debate over.. basic knowledge." She frowns in bewilderment. "How do you even..? Live like that?"

"We accept the cargo cult."

"I don't think I understand exactly what that means. Why would anyone worship cargo?"

I bow my head, smiling. Of course a species like the Kryptonians wouldn't have an equivalent phrase. "To use a light switch, you need to be able to work the light switch. To use it for something, you need to know that pressing the button will switch the light from on to off or off to on. A person who's never seen a light switch before can work that out without any knowledge of the underlying mechanisms. But without that knowledge, if the filament in the bulb breaks and the light no longer works, all they're left with is the idea that they're not pressing the button in the right way."

"Or they could just study the bulb."

"Building an understanding of electrical theory from a device when they can only study the exterior and don't have the underlying knowledge?"

She hesitates as she realises the difficulty.

"Then you've got things like the Windows operating system. When my computer crashes… I mean, back on Earth Prime, I'd just restart it and assume that would fix the problem. I had no idea what the problem was or why restarting the computer fixed it…" I shrug. "But it did. And then you've got the problem that magic can literally work like that."

"It's amazing you developed science at all."

"As the Sivanas are so fond of insisting, just because it's magic that doesn't mean that you can't study it scientifically."

"Unless you're an-" She puts her right hand on her chest. "-alien, and can't do magic at all."

"What about that.. Torquasm stuff you were learning with Angelika?"

"That's not the same thing at all. Torquasm is just learning to take control of mechanisms in our mind which and I see what you mean."

"Finding it useful?"

She nods.

"Yeah. I'm.. sleeping better, and… I'm not good at it yet, but… It really puts things in… Perspective, I guess."

"Have you spoken to Lantern Yat?"

"No." She frowns thoughtfully. "I think he's a bit young to benefit from it."

"No, I meant… In the sense of there being a planet of other members of your species still out there. Or… Him not having a model of how to be kryptonian in an advanced civilisation."

"He's the one who can fly faster than light. But I suppose it would be interesting to hear what their civilisation is like; how it's changed since they left Krypton."

"You could visit. Kal-El's never been all that interested: the cultural separation is just too great. But… For you…"

"I'm not.. planning on restarting Kryptonian civilisation. I'm happy here."

"You're happy?"

She nods, smiling. "I actually am. No more gold kryptonite, interesting work, friends… I even put on the House El colors during the war with the Sheeda."

"I know; I've got a picture. But… You know what else yellow sunlight exposure does to kryptonians?"

"What?"

"Longevity. We won't need to clone replacement organs for you. As long as you come back every so often, you'll keep going for a very long time."

"So I need a long term goal. A really long term goal."

"You don't need to pick one in a hurry, but… Yes. If you plan on staying in Sol."

"I… Guess… Kordtech is doing a lot of work with magic. It could be interesting to become the first kryptonian in thousands of years to use magic."

I nod. "You've got time to work it out."

"Okay, that's enough about me. What are you up to?"

"Taking it easy in preparation for a full medical investigation. Oh, and we had a car with no self-drive system drive itself to its destination yesterday."

"How?"

"We don't know yet, but it's not an isolated incident. There has been a significant increase worldwide in technological devices behaving oddly over the past few weeks, and I want to look into it. Are you available to help me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
11:03 GMT -6

"Do you think it's poltergeists?!"

Ted sounds weirdly happy about the idea as we watch the disused robotic assembly line whir while the robots try to assemble a car out of thin air.

"Poltergeist activity is a sort of reverse psychometry, so unless the people here were obsessively interested in their jobs… These robots aren't enchanted, are they?"

"Oh, no, we stopped using this site before we switched into magitech. I only found out this was even happening because we sent in a maintenance team a few days ago."

"What for? Did they set off an alarm?"

"No. We only have alarms on the outside, and security assumed that someone in head office was… Ah, 'playing' with the robots."

I gaze levelly at him, and he looks away.

"One time. Ollie wanted to know if we could make custom trucks, so I sent people to check up on the place... Point is, the security recordings say it started a few days ago. It's not all the time, but they're not drawing any power from the grid." He frowns. "Actually, that could be a big money saver if we can work out why it's happening."

Kara blinks as she shifts her vision back to normal.

"They might not be drawing power, but there's electrical activity inside them. They're at normal working temperature, and…" She shakes her head. "I can't see anything to explain this. Do they work all day?"

"Yep." Ted squints at the production line. "And now I'm trying to work out what they're trying to make."

"Do they shut down at the end of the working day?"

"No, but… This place did shift work. The lines never really shut down."

"The car in Coast City drove its usual route from home to work. These robots are clearly trying to make something. What was the last thing they made?"

"Golf carts."

"Do you have the… Blank panels? The components?"

"No, but I've got the specifications." He turns to me, smiling. "You actually want me to try them out?"

"I'd.. like to have a few magicians take a look first. But that's probably going to be part of it. Whatever this is… It doesn't appear to be hostile." Hm. "Do these robots have some sort of safety measure to shut them down if someone gets in the way?"

"It's more if there's an obstruction that doesn't match the shape of what they're supposed to receive. We generally assume that the railings and warning lights are enough to stop people getting in the way while they're running."

"Kara, would you mind sticking your hand in the way?"

She raises her right eyebrow.

"Is there something wrong with your hand?"

"I'm supposed to be taking it easy. And you're a lot more mystically inert than I am."

"I'm also vulnerable to magic."

"They're robots animated by magic. The plasma cutters are still mundane."

She shrugs, flying over the railing and standing between a couple of robot arms. She then rolls back her right sleeve and then shoves her bare arm in the-.

The robot arm halts before it touches her, then an alarm buzzes.

Ted looks around, frowning. "That's the 'line obstructed' alarm. It's not supposed to be plugged in either."

"Try moving your hand into it."

A frown flicks in my direction, but she moves her hand towards it-. And it backs up.

"Definitely not hostile, then."

Ted frowns. "Why's it doing that? I'd have expected it to keep working regardless of what was in the way-."

"Can I come out now?"

"Yes." I sigh. "Do you have the schematics on hand? It's probably-"

Kara gets out of the way, and after a momentary delay the robot goes back to miming working.

"-quicker if I fabricate the parts rather than ordering them from your supplier or going through the store rooms. Can you spare a few wizards?"

"Well... Most of my workforce aren't researchers. I should be able to get some of them interested, but you know more Atlantean researchers than I do."

"The… Problem is that there are only so many researchers to go around. Between the revolution, studying the Dream and the people N.E.M.O. has recruited, there's going to be a shortage until we can set up new schools to train new researchers. At this point, we're down to asking the better disciplined street wizards to take a look. And half of them would just summon up a demon and ask them if they knew anything."

Ted looks decidedly uncomfortable. "Yeeeeaaaah, I have enough protesters without getting involved in literal demon magic."

"If it came down to it I could just ask Mammon. That would be far safer."

Kara considers the machines for a moment.

"What about the Justice League?"

I shrug. "This is weird, but so far there aren't any reports of people being significantly hurt. And it's not common. The League has four magicians, none of whom are researchers. I'll forward what we know to them, but this isn't really a League thing yet. Unless you're… Seeing something I'm not?"

She shakes her head.

"Is magic the only thing this could be?"

"Metahuman abilities need a carrier signal of some sort, and I'm not detecting anything by ring scan. You can't hack something that doesn't have power, nanotech is fragile and can be detected, microtech is easy to detect… There are only so many things it could be."

Ted perks up slightly. "'How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?'"

Kara looks blank. "I don't think you've ever said that."

"I'm gunna start."

"Do you need this factory back quickly?"

"It's not super-urgent, but I'd like it back."

"Because it seems to me that while we can wait on a full explanation, we need a way to stop it affecting machinery going forward. So… I'll try and find out whether warded machinery can be affected, and…"

Ah.

"I know a man who can eliminate mundane explanations fairly reliably."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
12:32 GMT -5

"Well hey there, partner!"

Earl Dukeston smiles warmly, striding over to shake my hand the moment his secretary lets me into his office. His… Huge office, which I might call a penis extension if I didn't know for a fact that he doesn't have one. Though I do note that he's had extra padding added to his right hand; his grip feels a lot more like that of a human hand and less like that of an industrial crusher than last time.

"Sit down, sit down." Right hand on my back, he leads me to his coffee table and takes a seat opposite me. I sit down and he leans back, apparently completely at ease. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"There's been a rash of… What I can only call strange malfunctions: machines so committed to their jobs that they do them without human agency or.. even power-."

"Ah, hey." He holds his hands up defensively. "Ah'm totally legitimate, strait and narrow, wouldn't say 'boo' to a goose. Y'all can check with-."

"Oh-. No, no." I shake my head. "I wasn't accusing you. Sorry, I can.. see how that could have sounded."

"Well good." He puts his right hand on his chest, smile still in place. "If ah had a heart, it'd be racing right now! Ah'm a good boy these days, now there's no electric gun against mah head."

"I have no reason to doubt that, and as I said at the hearing, I can think of no reason why you wouldn't be."

"So long as we're clear about that. Machines acting up, huh?"

"A car that drove the route to work without regard for traffic laws, a robot assembly line trying to assemble golf carts from nothing." I smile. "A weighing machine that guesses the weight of anyone who walks by it with surprising accuracy."

"Bet some folks didn't like that."

"Actually, it drew a crowd. I've got a dozen other reports, and there are probably more that we aren't finding out about because people either don't notice or chalk it up to a normal malfunction."

"That's mighty strange. But why come to me? Ah'm just a businessman."

"Two reasons. Firstly, your remarkable facility for controlling technological devices. Secondly, the other AIs I know are magic-based or techno-organic. You're an upload, which means that if it's a magic thing you're more likely to be able to interact with it."

"Like a canary interacts with mine gas."

"That's not quite how I was.. thinking about it. If there's some sort of elemental creature that actually wants something, or.. is trying to do something, we need someone who can speak its language."

"Negotiatin' 's something ah can do. So y'all just want me to work mah not-magic touch on it, see if anyone's home, and that's it?"

"That's probably it. If I knew exactly what was happening, I wouldn't be trying to find out what's happening."

"Sounds like the sorta thing a public-spirited artificial person like me oughta do."

"You haven't noticed anything strange yourself?"

"Everything in the office is hunky-dory, and if the fellahs workin' the wells spotted anything they ain't referred it upwards. Ah'll send a message 'round, see what shakes loose."

"I'd appreciate it. And you, personally?"

He frowns. "Had some mighty strange dreams lately. But hell, ah'm a machine thinks he's a man. Shouldn't even be able to dream in the first place, and there ain't exactly a standard for 'normal' when you're me. Ah. But there's something that's been bothering me something chronic for a while now, and I was hoping you could put mah mind at ease. 'fore I do something canary-like."

"I'll do my best. What's the problem?"

"Earl Dukeston the First didn't want to meet his maker ahead of time. That's why he had me built. But he knew he'd be meeting him eventually. He was a Baptist Christian, a regular church-goer. Until he couldn't physically make the trip no more, anyhow. Ah've got as many ah his memories as they could load onto me, but I'm not him."

I nod. "That's my understanding; Earl Dukeston the First is now dead."

"So he didn't change the date ah his meeting with his maker at all, did he?"

"Not significantly. Though having been to the Silver City and having definitely not had an encounter with the godhead, I'm not sure that's exactly how it works anyway."

"Howsabout me, then? Ah've been going to church. Ah believe just like he did, and the law says ah'm a person even if ah ain't exactly a man. Will ah go to Heaven, or the other place if'n ah don't measure up?"

"Zauriel's a better person to ask than me."

"If'n he had a postal address, ah'd have surely asked him."

"Ah. In that case, my understanding is 'no'. Even on mystically strong worlds, AIs struggle to gather the sort of arcane weight that organic creatures do. Both Red Tornado and Red Inferno were designed with the manipulation of magic as a part of their core function so they don't have that problem. You weren't."

"Well. That's mighty disappointing. Is there any way to fix it?"

"Oh, sure. Did I ever show you my tattoos?"

"Can't say you did."

"Well, short version, a while ago I found myself in your position. I talked to some wizards, and after a while we managed to get it fixed. Since I couldn't grow a soul normally, we used a little magic to make me grow one artificially. I'm not exactly sure how it would work for you, but we can talk to some people and see what we can come up with."

"That'd be a weight off mah mind." He stands up, the same smile on his face. "Alright, ah'm in. Let's go have a powwow with the self starting machines."

I stand. "Let's. But I'm curious: what sort of dreams?"

"Ah already talked that one out with mah shrink. Like ah'm standing in a room surrounded by all kinds a' folks, but none of 'em can see or hear each other, an' ah can't talk neither." He shrugs. "Guess it just means ah need to get out and make more friends."

"Do you dream that often?"

"A couple times, close together. Then once or twice more. Ain't like it's every night. If'n this ole' noggin of mine gets stuck in that sorta loop, I call the fellahs down in IT."

"And you're making an effort to be more social, and they're not coming back?"

"That's about the size of it. Not every little thing's a major crisis. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, you know?"

"It's not practical to be suspicious of everything, anyway. What are your normal dreams like?"

"Ones and zeroes, my friend. Ones and zeroes."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
11:42 GMT -6

"…kinda electrical fellah."

Earl frowns, and because his brain actually encodes information as closely as possible to how human brains do he genuinely is straining to remember. Sometimes the schematic flows just aren't strong enough. The scientists that created him might not have had the sheer individual brilliance of Dr. Morrow, but when it comes to making something that thinks like a human they achieved far more.

"Kilger? Could take over machines like this."

"Kilg%re. Though… We're not sure if that's its name, or just a random series of letters it typed in before it really understood human language."

"Kilgore?"

"Kilg%re."

"Ah?" He shrugs. "If'n you say so."

"Kilg%re exists in two forms. He can sustain himself in a diffuse plasma medium, or he can install himself on a robotic platform. The Green Lanterns told me how to detect his plasma form, so I can check for that myself. I can't reliably detect a robotic platform if he's using the right sort of sensor baffles, but that form uses relatively mundane means to connect to the technology he takes over and that I can detect."

"And in both cases, he can only control electrical components. Not mechanical ones. He can't control car steering when there's no electric actuator, and the car it happened to was hydraulic."

Earl frowns as we walk into the factory floor, the sounds from the working production line clearly audible.

"Could he control me?"

"I'm not sure. I'd guess 'yes', but he's never tried to control something that could resist intelligently before. I'd guess that if you used electromagnetic shielding around all of your electronic systems then you should be alright, but you'd be better off not testing it."

"It's just something a fellah like me has to worry about."

"There's one Kilg%re. There are dozens of telepaths, and you're immune to all of them."

"That so? Well, lucky me."

Ted waves when he spots us, the phone staying at his ear for a moment before he lowers it and waves.

"Hey, Earl."

"Howdy, Ted."

"I thought you were trying to go easy on the stereotypical Texan stuff?"

"Tried. But ah started twitching, and ah'd rather avoid giving off 'killer robot' vibes if ah don't have to."

"Yeah, that sounds like something to avoid." He turns to the side and points to the assembly robots. "There they are. Feel free to do whatever you need. We're insured for accidental damage."

"They're your robots." Earl walks right up to the barrier guarding the assembly line. "Fellahs, you got this one chance to explain what y'all doing. If'n y'all don't, things are going to get a mite personal."

The robots keep doing their thing.

"Three. Two. Okay, that's how you want it."

Earl pulls up his right sleeve a little way, his fingers extending in segments as his metal interior becomes visible. He extends his right arm, which gradually loses its human shape and it reaches for the closest robot arm.

"How about you and me have a heart to heart?"

His fingers touch the base of the robot arm and then burrow inside, his eyes flickering as he makes a connection.

"You okay there, Earl?"

"It's… It's a tricky critter. No. Stop." The arm stops, then shudders. "Ahhh." It stops again, and then the arms next to it stop as well.

"Mister Dukeston?"

"Ah don't rightly think ah'm getting more than y'all are seeing. Commands are coming in, and ah'm not rightly sure where they're coming from. All ah can-"

His left leg shakes, extending slightly.

"-see is ooooh."

"Mister Dukeston. Say you're alright, or I'll sever your connection."

"Ah'm okay!" His mouth doesn't move as he says it, and his face is stretching slightly. "Some varmint jus' tried giving me a little-" His leg snaps back to its normal length. "-surprise, is all."

"Can you give me more information than 'varmint'?"

"Feel's like when I tried talkin' East Coast. Only worse. Ain't got no idea where-. Egh."

His clothes rip as his arms and legs extend and his chest expands. He manages to keep his head steady, but the rest of him is trembling.

"Well, this is just plain embarrassing."

"Mister Dukeston, you're not exactly filling me with confidence in your ability to maintain control."

"It jus' hit the 'extend' button. It's like a puppy nibbling on your finger."

"Are you getting any sort of impression of the mind behind it?"

"Don't feel like any kinda mind at all. Seems like… This is just an impression, y'hear?"

"I hear."

"Something that wants to work real hard but doesn't know what it's supposed to be doing. It ain't attacking me so much as poking, seeing if'n there's anything it should do."

"That pretty much rules out Kilg%re. Nifty body like yours, he'd be right in there."

"What'd you say this place was for?"

"It used to make golf carts. I think it was boats before that."

Earl shakes his head and returns his attention to the robots. "You fellahs think carrying on like this is going to make a golf cart? Y'all can't weld thin air."

The arms which were still in motion slow to a stop. Earl gives it a moment, then clunks back down to human proportions before drawing back his fingers and giving them a shake.

"Guess you just have to know how to talk to them."

"Which raises the question of what was doing the listening." I run an orange beam over him, repairing his clothing and skin. He nods in gratitude. "Can you tell us any more?"

He shakes his head. "Would if I could, partner. Best ah could tell you was that there was a whole lotta drive but no one in the driver's seat. Y'all got any other robots or suchlike you want me to have a word with?"

"No, but there's someone else I need to check in with, and they may be able to help you with your other problem."