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

[Mr Zoat]

October 1st, 2013
02:42 RST
Lex Luthor

I've been… Surprised, but working with the government of Chong-Mai has been good for my mood. Something else I should thank Orange Lantern-. Something else I should thank Paul for.

There's a beep from the phone on my desk.

"Yes?"

"It's done."

Hardly the first purge this retrograde country has seen. I doubt that anyone who hears about it will be surprised. The rest of the government knows better than to gainsay me. For the most part, they're competent administrators who've had a life time of experience in keeping their heads down and obeying orders.

"The boy?"

"We have him."

Dealing with consummate professionals is a pleasant experience. Truggs was undoubtably the best candidate for being the Light's chief field operative, but the man can be… Frustrating to work with at times. Initiative and obedience aren't always in conflict… No, that's not fair. I'm half-convinced that his backchat is performative. And I can't honestly fault his mission discipline, either. It's his attitude, the way he presents himself. But, he does a good job, so I'll accept it, and keep Mister Orr on-hand as a backup candidate.

"Healthy?"

"As healthy as can be expected."

"Good. The staff?"

"No issues."

Good. That will make things easier. "I've dispatched a team with the replacement generators. Make it clear to the existing staff that they can stay on or leave as they choose."

"And if they choose to leave?"

"Then they leave. I have no interest in trying to motivate people with 'nationalistic loyalty'. If improved pay and conditions don't motivate them then there's no sense in taking the risk involved in keeping them there. Perhaps they can try their luck in China."

The Nay Power Plant was Chong-Mai's main source of foreign currency. Since Nay's output provided far more power than their crumbling infrastructure could use, they sold the excess to China, which also motivated China to not simply annex their country. Because naturally they weren't selling to the Chinese state, no. They sold directly to businesses controlled either by the Chinese military or by highly-placed party officials under exemptions granted by those same officials. Officials who couldn't get away with that if it was annexed and the state power company took over.

Officials who are either dead or deposed in the aftermath of the Anti-Life broadcast, so there won't be any trouble from that direction.

"Understood. Further orders?"

"Remain on-site until power is restored, and then return to the capital. Organise things as you see fit."

And he just ends the call, because clearly neither of us had anything else to say.

I turn my attention to the files on my desk. Physical files, which can be put in physically secure places once I'm done with them. With the Amazon's new God of Technology allied to the Justice League, our formerly-impregnable computer security became… Impossible to depend upon in quite the same way. All that money spent on the servers and in the end we only got a couple of years out of it. At least the knowledge we derived from making them will be useful.

And speaking of the League…

They're expanding their control network. More OMACs, more bargains with weak willed government officials, and an expanded mentoring program. It's genuinely frustrating how many League members genuinely don't understand what's happening. I'd wonder if my data sources were being subverted if it didn't perfectly match their behavioural profiles.

How can they not see it? It's-.

I exhale slowly, tilting my head back, closing my eyes and… Juvenile as it sounds, returning to my 'happy place'. When I read the financial projections which demonstrated that LexAir was heading towards profitability ahead of the original predictions. I'm not.. there yet with Chong-Mai… And I'd be a fool to announce what I'm doing here to financial analysts…

But maybe this is just a better form of diversification? Countries after all have all sorts of benefits unique to their asset class.

Heh. As ridiculous as it sounds, the approach does actually work.

But the files. Lists of young people going through Chong-Mai's education system. Decrepit as it is, the truly exceptional people within it managed to rise to the top anyway. A combination of intelligence to complete the tests and social skills to avoid sticking out in a way which some brittle-egoed Party apparatchik might decide was 'contrary to the People's interests'. My people have already gotten to work on changing that -Chong-Mai needs engineers more than it needs Communism- but those who did succeed are exceptional individuals.

And exceptional individuals should be given the chance to advance themselves.

"Activate security."

My office here isn't anything like as secure as my office in Metropolis. The armored shutters were here when I arrived, but the wardings and the white noise generator are recent additions, and very clearly not integrated into the structure. I wince slightly every time I see the kludged job… But it's going to be at least six months before I can make a decision on where it makes sense to build a bespoke headquarters in this country, so I'll simply have to make do.

Security engaged, I open my mobile communication system and lay my hand on the identification crystal. Confirming a person's identity using their soul is far safer than using fingerprints, and we have enough magicians under our employ now that we can replace them or build more if anything…

If anything happened to Circe. The rate of attrition amongst the members of our fraternity has been… Surprisingly high.

In one of our rare direct conversations Boss Smiley insisted that his involvement means that while he can't keep Hephaestus from discovering what we're saying, he would both know and not know at the same time. He shouldn't be able to know when talking to other people, at least. And I expect that's the best we're going to get as far as security goes. Savitar's people could technically pick us up and carry us all to a remote location for monthly face-to-face meetings, but the prospect is ridiculous.

And… There. The system has confirmed my identity to its satisfaction, and I find myself in a void that's part dream and part holographic projection. I see the representations of my fellow members of The Light laid out around me in a circle.

"L Three." Savage greets me first, of course. "Thank you for joining us."

No Boss Smiley, of course. The few times he's deigned to speak as part of the group, he's used the circle itself as his image. According to Circe that's about as civil an arrangement as we can expect, but unlike the others where their attendance implies that they're taking this gratifyingly seriously… I honestly prefer Boss Smiley's absence.

"I apologise for the delay. There were matters I had to oversee personally."

"Yes." I can hear how cheerful Brain is. "I was most impressed with how your scientists were able to harness the boy. Given how primitive their equipment was, I mean. My work on reverse-engineering his ability is beginning. The cells are replicating well, and do not appear to be trying to break containment. I will provide further updates once I have something substantive to report."

"Thank you. L Twelve, are you fully recovered?"

"Yes, thank you, L One. Though I'm afraid that my collaborators will no longer be collaborating."

"Does that represent an insurmountable obstacle?"

"No. Actually, a new avenue of research has opened itself. I will coordinate with L Eleven and provide more information when I have a better understanding of what actually happened. Because if I'm correct… We may finally be able to show this world the light."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Worms

5th October 2013
15:12 GMT -7

I smile as I split my attention between my environment, my student and the actual broadcast coming from the television studio below.

Progress.

It took a while, but the United States has finally gotten around to properly filling in the unoccupied Senate and Congress seats, and right now the new intake are pretending not to hate each other in front of the cameras below. One problem down.

Perhaps having so many new people who didn't hold their seats prior to the Anti-Life broadcast might actually make things… Move a bit? I mean, my opinions were low but I was still disappointed. In practical terms-.

Antonia looks up from her phone, which to be fair was showing the interview. "So is this a good thing, or a bad thing?"

"It's an indication that we're gradually returning to normal. Granted, most of the elections were more about the primary than the actual election and there weren't really a lot of policies on display-."

"What about..? You know, reconstruction?"

"I haven't really studied the American Civil War."

She spends a moment studying my face.

"I can't tell if you're being British or-. Are you making a point about the government being irrelevant?"

"Perish the thought."

She frowns. "So, why does-? Why do you think it matters?"

"It's a step back towards normalcy. And once something like normalcy has been achieved, people can start examining the structures of their society and considering what works and what doesn't work."

"You not worried about the ones making anti-Justice League noises?"

"H-ah!"

"Shouldn't you be?"

"You know how the Justice League has a mandate agreed by the United Nations Security Council?"

"Yeah, exactly-."

"You know how the Justice League started before they had that?"

"Sure, but it wasn't official."

"H-ah!"

"For the guy who's supposed to be mentoring me, you're not great at answering questions."

"It's the Socratic Method. Remember, while I'm British by ancestry I'm Themysciran by nationality."

"I'm pretty sure Socrates didn't go around laughing at people."

"I'm pretty sure he did. You'd be amazed at some of the things people got up to and which didn't get written down. When you can talk to Amazons or nymphs, demi-gods or gods who were there, you can find out all sorts of things. My point is, League members got together to coordinate their efforts, and only got official sanction because people were making a fuss. And when I say 'people', I mean 'government officials'."

"I'm pretty sure those are people."

"And why do you think that government officials were worried about something like the Justice League existing?"

And all due respect to her, she takes a moment to think about it. Not about the answer; there are plenty of correct answers she could give. No, she's trying to work out what answer I want.

They grow up so fast!

"Be-cause they.. didn't control it?"

"Acceptable answer."

"And then they did?"

I shake my head once. "No. Then they agreed to a polite fiction. And the access to police and military intelligence was nice. But -and this is important and I want you to remember it- that's all it was."

"'Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun'."

"It's more 'What do you do if you find a five hundred pound bear asleep in your bed', but your version is true as well."

"Mao Zedong's version."

"Can't say he lacked vision. But perhaps most importantly, the gun doesn't need to fire. It just has to exist."

"So… This whole thing… Reminds governments that the Justice League doesn't need them?"

"What are they celebrating?"

"Getting new jobs?"

"Given what those jobs involve, why would they celebrate that?"

"Money's supposed to be pretty good."

"Is it? They're being paid in dollars. Buying power is down, and despite it being illegal there are places in America that flat-out won't accept it."

Having lived through the Earth Prime financial crash, that honestly surprised me. I suppose that lying loses its stigma when everyone lies, but the moment one honest person turns up…

"It doesn't come with the respect of the population any longer. And in a modern democracy that shouldn't be a problem because you just play musical chairs for a bit. Someone bites the stigma bullet and the next person comes into office with a free rein. Except it's not working. Voter participation has been falling for a while; in this election, despite everything that happened this year, it's down more."

"All elections?"

"No, local ones have seen a resurgence. But national? Yeah, pretty much. I'm not sure how low it has to go for the very idea of democratic legitimacy to die… I don't think there are any worked examples. But they'll try and act like nothing's changed. It'll be interesting to see how gracious they end up being about the devolution of power."

"You think..? States Rights are gunna be a thing again?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. The Federal Government has taken more and more power into itself ever since the Declaration of Independence. And now events have shown that the emperor has no clothes."

"What happens if they don't-. I mean, if it doesn't?"

"Civil strife. Officials refusing to carry out technically legitimate orders. Lots of fruitless legal action. Someone blowing up Fort Sumter to make a point. Recall elections if people decide to be formal. Mobs demanding resignations if they don't."

She looks mildly horrified. "And then what?"

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th October 2013
12:37 GMT -5

"Orange Lantern." Senator Anthony Monetti stands up to shake my hand as I approach his-. Our table, and executes the perfect politician handshake when I take it. Solid enough to demonstrate confidence, light enough to avoid turning this into a test of strength, and quick enough that he could work an entire line like this without getting excessively delayed. "It's good to meet you."

"Senator Monetti. Thank you for inviting me."

Argent-. Antonia herself stays seated, just giving me a nod as I sit down. She's in a white blouse and black skirt, and she doesn't look irritated or concerned. Her father matches her pallet in terms of clothing with a white shirt and black trousers, but it's a shade… Less formal that I might have expected. There's a plain t-shirt under the shirt, and the trousers are shapeless casual trousers rather than sharply-creased suit trousers.

Reading the room, I send my own suit jacket into subspace as a waiter brings over a drinks menu.

"I'll take a water."

"Uh, coke."

"Shirley Temple, please."

Senator Monetti raises his eyebrows. "Isn't it a little early?"

"Oh, I can't get-." And then I get it, and do a cough-laugh. "Sorry. Joke, right."

"It's fine." He frowns with curiosity as the waiter takes the menus. "Were you saying that you can't get drunk?"

"Among other things. I could get drunk if I actually wanted to, but… Given my line of work, I generally find the idea of having my mental processes altered sufficiently unpleasant that my rings ensure that doesn't happen."

"Don't wanna be drunk in charge of a power ring. Good. Or maybe given that whole Christmas cake thing, I should say 'again'."

Antonia gives him a mild scowl, but I just smile. "Oh, I wasn't drunk when I made that. Or the giant naked statue in the Bialyan desert."

He blinks. "Excuse me?"

"In one of my early missions, before I had the sort of anti-telepath defences that I have today, a telepath named Simon Jones managed to… Not 'erase' exactly, but… Suppress, a couple of months worth of my memories. Given how weird what was going on was, I spent a few hours convinced that I was dreaming the whole experience and one of the things I did while I was 'dreaming' was build a giant statue."

"Ok-okay?"

"The giant cake happened because as a result of…" Oh. "A poorly-planned training session, I ended up bonded to an avarice elemental. Other considerations rather went out of the window until we were separated again. And then I had the cake, and I didn't feel like wasting it…"

"I… See…"

Clearly, I've thrown him off, but the waiter returning with our drinks gives him a moment to recover and think it over.

"Thank you."

"Is that sort of thing common?"

"It depends what you mean by 'common'. There are a handful of telepaths on Earth who could try something like that, and I can't call to mind any who are likely to be hostile. Elementals and other arcane lifeforms are common enough, but encounters with them are rare. Antonia, you're wearing-."

"Toni."

I nod. "Sor-."

"Antonia is a perfectly nice name." Her father looks mildly put out. "It's your grandmother's."

"Everyone calls me 'Toni', Dad."

Perhaps I should intervene. "You're wearing your spell eater, yes?"

She pulls is out from between-. Under her blouse. "And I've got my inertia shield on my belt."

"Good show." I take a sip of my drink. "Those protect against magic and kinetic energy respectively. No defence is completely reliable, but we do our best to protect the people who work with us."

"Yes, I was… Worried when Antonia-" She rolls her eyes. "-told me she wanted to be a superhero. Now, sure, when there's a catastrophe like the Anti-Life happening, it's all hands to the pumps. I'm not arguing that, and I'm proud of what she did. But I have concerns about her making it a full-time thing."

I nod. "And you should."

He nods. "I had a look at the death rates for new superheroes. You ever do that?"

"Oh yes." I nod. "And while the methodologies of the studies are imperfect, the vast majority of superheroes stop appearing after the first six months. But unlike the people who did the studies, I know why that was."

"And it wasn't because they got shot or stabbed to death?"

"Sort of. They did, but the League of Shadows used to use neophyte superheroes as training targets. Once we dealt with their organisation, the confirmed death rate dropped off a lot."

Lunch menus are delivered, and then the waiter retreats.

Uh… This place is too fancy for me to have much experience of eating things like this. Though… The menu is clearly post-Anti-Life. The selection is noticeably reduced from what I remember. Avocados are still on the menu, with the increase in costs neatly neutralised by the lack of cartels to take a cut.

That was a satisfying week.

"How bad are the death rates now?"

"It hasn't been long enough for there to be good data. The Alliance and the Anti-Life threw everything out. Lower, probably."

The omelette looks… Relatively harmless. But… They seem to be serving salad with everything, and I don't… Want to be seen as the sort of uncultured person who leaves his salad on the plate-. Ah, soup, with bread. Excellent. Ah. Not tomato-. Chicken! Perfect.

"So it's safe."

"Nothing's safe. Law enforcement jobs involving contact with law-breakers are certainly not safe. The supervision and training is intended to make it as safe as it can be, but they're hardly perfect. This issue is that Toni was going out as a superhero anyway, so comparing what she's getting from us with a fictional reality where she isn't going out is pointless."

"Not to me, it's not."

"She's safer than she would be as a conventional law enforcement operative or soldier."

"Have you ever had students die before?"

"Not with the Justice League. I've had Lanterns I've trained die out in the wider galaxy, but I've taken part in the training of hundreds of Lanterns. You… Disapprove?"

"Yeah." He glances at his daughter. "I'd rather she was a few years older at least. I'm putting up with it mostly because I hope it's a phase."

"It's not a phase, Dad."

"Yeah, we'll see. So, if this thing's going to turn into a career, what exactly do you do every day?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th October 2013
12:53 GMT -5

"…plenty of aliens in this part of the universe, they just don't come here."

Senator Monetti shrugs. "Why not? Superman came here, Manhunter got brought here… The Hawks came here."

"Uh… Well, two main reasons; economics and security. None of the species in this region of space are advanced enough for long ranged faster-than-light travel to be casual. People from Ungara have flown to Earth before, but it took several weeks and… They've got their own problems. The Hawks… Basically came here as spies."

He blinks. "What?"

"It's not quite as bad as it sounds, and it's related to the second point. But sticking to economics, we can't make… Many things that a more advanced civilisation can't make more cheaply in their own territory. And we can't do what less advanced civilisations usually do and export raw materials, because it's far easier to mine asteroids in your own system than to fly to someone else's or lift things off an inhabited planet."

"I guess that makes sense. What about security?"

I take a sip of the excellent soup. I considered doing the British bowl-tilt thing, but I don't think the Americans would have understood.

"There's a planet called 'Garnet'. Due to its unfortunate location it ended up getting settled by a dozen or so different polities, none of whom had the strength to take full control. And then when they realised that it wasn't as valuable as they'd been led to believe they withdrew support, leaving their colonists to fight over it as best they could. And then various other parties took advantage of the absence of authority to stick their oar in, and now it's had about three hundred years of constant warfare and just about everyone calls it 'Hellhole' in preference to its actual name."

"Garnet has one Green Lantern permanently assigned to it. Earth has four. In addition to two Star Sapphires, a Blue Lantern and -currently- five Orange Lanterns. Any species with any experience of interstellar travel is going to take one look at that and stay the heck away."

"We're-? We're a bad neighbourhood?!"

"Yes."

"Hahaha! Oh God, that's-!" He grins, genuinely amused, as his daughter cringes and tries to pretend she's not with him. "You mind if I share that with people?"

"Be my guest. One of my duties is to provide the public with information."

"But what was that about the Hawks?"

"They weren't here to sabotage us. They were here to provide an early warning to their own civilisation if we went berserk."

Antonia stares at me. "Is that..? True?"

"A summary loses some details, but-" I nod. "-essentially, yes."

"Whaw." Antonia starts smiling. "I guess you don't really think about it when you live here. Was it just the Anti-Life, or is it..?"

"I'll have to take you to an alien world sometime so that you can get a better idea of what things are usually like. But no, it's not just the Anti-Life."

I tear off a piece of bread and dab up some of the residual soup. Antonia has long since finished her cheese on toast, and Senator Monetti is gradually ruminating his way through his salad. He swallows the… Uh, rocket? And then indicates me with his fork.

"The other thing I wanted to pick your brains about is that stuff you were saying about the elections. What exactly have you got against my fellow elected representatives?"

"Nothing, but I also have nothing for them. As I said to Antonia-."

"Toni."

"You can be 'Toni' when you pay for lunch. Respect your grandmother."

She slumps. "Urggh."

Her father on the other hand looks mildly smug.

"As I said to her, the American Federal Government has been a non-issue during the League's effort to restore human civilisation. I don't expect the incoming bunch to add anything useful. I suppose the fact that elections happened at all might go a little way to restoring public confidence, but… That's about it."

"I guess you prefer Teth Adam's way of doing things."

"He kept the Anti-Life off his country with his own magic. Greater Kahndaq is just about the only place on the planet that didn't need the Justice League's help. And… Um. That's… Going to create a problem."

"The U.S. has dealt with international rivals before. Not from.. Africa, but I'm sure we'll manage."

"No. Um. Democratic legitimacy."

"I don't know about Kahndaq, but unless you're about to tell me otherwise, I'd back our electoral legitimacy to the hilt."

"No, we kept a close eye on those, and they were conducted in accordance with American law. It's the… Legitimacy of democracy as a way of choosing leaders that might become an issue."

A cloud passes over his face. "I thought you weren't allowed to talk about the Justice League taking over the world."

"I'm not. Adom… Originally, wanted to be a lot more democratic in the way he restructured Kahndaq. Mostly because he didn't think he knew enough about the modern era to rule properly. And then most of the representatives were killed by Apokoliptian war robots and he had to centralise things. People were… Grateful to him for finally getting rid of the previous government, but they didn't really know him… And now they all know what he's prepared to do for them, even when it costs him. Combined with the fact that Isis is the reason why Kahndaq doesn't have a desert anymore, they're not really seen as first citizens, they're seen as deific figures. Because… Elected politicians can't wave their arms and grow a forest, for example."

"So no one there gives a damn about elections. They don't see the point."

"Yes." I shrug. "You saw the voter turnout figures. A major disaster, the first election, a really big issue to decide… And you barely made sixty percent in most places. People weren't bothering to show up."

"For federal elections. People are more worried about where their next meal-"

I shake my head.

"-is-. What?"

"We already fixed that. The U.S. hasn't had food shortages, because… The League dealt with it. It's easier to send one person with a power ring than organise all the steps that a Federal emergency agency needs to do the same job. But if that's the case, and the League's big enough to ensure that someone who can do that is going to be around… Why have a Federal agency?"

I circle my right hand.

"City-level police budgets usually fall when a powerful and competent superhero shows up. Defence… Would you rather have a nuclear missile, or a Superman? Democracy… Emerged from very specific social conditions. A general spread of literacy and education, improved communications technology. And I haven't studied what it looked like on the ground, but I'm wondering… If we're seeing something similar today. Men aren't created equal. And… Most modern countries aren't really set up to channel that. I know that the American government has spent about a thousand times more money on trying to work out how to counter Superman than they have working out how to get the most out of him-."

"We funded the Justice League."

"Not by much. Not compared to some of the things you piss money away on. And now they're funding you."

"Okay…" He takes that in. "And how does the Justice League feel about all that?"

"They're trying to pretend it's not happening, and that it'll go away if they ignore it. But… The new people? Senators and Congresspeople? Get them working as fast as you can. Reorganisation of institutions, practical changes… Something to demonstrate that you're back in the harness. Because… Do you know who came third during the last presidential election?"

"Yeah." He nods slowly. "Superman, by write-in. This sounds like something we need to get on top of. Thank you, Orange Lantern. I'll make sure I bring this to the attention of the right people."

"Thank you, Senator. I think the League will be relieved."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Time Break

3rd April 1970
10:12 GMT -5

Ugh, time to check in with my 'parole officer'. Who is… In Star City for some reason. One surge of desire to get this over with as fast as possible and I'm there, looking down at the… 'Affordable' part of the city.

Arriving in some version of the D.C. Universe was weird, but finding out that the local version of the Green Lantern Corps is the only Corps means that I can't assume that anything I know is correct. And I know that comics have an elastic relationship with time, but the Seventies..? If things happening line up with the dates the comics were published, then Darkest Night doesn't happen for another thirty years or so. We might even be pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths, but I haven't wanted to ask.

Lantern Jordan was concerned that I was connected to Sinestro somehow… Who is still wearing the black and blue costume and sports the truly ridiculous forehead I vaguely remember from the nearly-animated televised comics I remember from my early childhood. Anyway, after kicking my neophyte arse and dragging me off to the Guardians… They were actually quite polite about the whole thing. Fascinated at the idea of using other colours. Even offered me my own personal lantern as long as I kept my nose clean.

In practice that involves checking in on Jordan or Stewart once a week, and… I usually prefer Jordan. Stewart is the original professional architect on a Black Power kick rather than the revised post-Justice League Animated former marine, and… It's a little trying. And I-.

A glowing green cage flies past me in the direction of… Star City's central police station. Ah, someone's being busy. I set course for the green glow, flying over… 'Competitively priced' accommodation. Yeah, there's Jordan and Green Arrow and it looks like Green Arrow's in fine form.

What is it this time?

"…kick a lot of old folk out on the street! Lord knows this building is bad… But they don't have anything else!"

Yeah, and if it was nicer then it would cost more, meaning that they wouldn't be able to live there anyway. Ah, I should probably let him get it out of his system. With Jordan, and not with me.

"Like what you've seen? Listen, I hope you enjoyed playing super-hero out there… I hope it did a lot of good for your ego-."

Oh, he didn't.

Jordan clearly looks like he has no idea where this invective is coming from. "Easy… You've no cause to yell at me! I have a job… I do it!"

Okay, without context… Jordan arrested a poor person, Green Arrow thinks that poor people should be allowed to commit all the crimes they want-.

"Seems I've heard that line before… At the Nazi war trials!"

"Duh-hah!"

I put my hand over my mouth as Green Arrow achieves oneness with Godwin's Law. Ah, he can't hear me from up here, and I'm pretty sure that he's not listening in any case. Though we are in the Seventies, so it was only 25 years ago… He might have actually attended one of the later Nazi War Crime trials. But Harold Jordan is about as far from a Nazi as it's possible to get.

"I want to ask the ring-slinger a question, Mister Green Arrow…"

An elderly black man dressed… Like my granddad, actually, shuffles towards the arguing superheroes. Which suggests that his judgement is impaired, because when a man with a weapon powerful enough to push the moon out of orbit starts arguing with a man with a nuke arrow, then sensible thing to do is leave them to it.

"I been readin' about you… How you work for the blue skins… And how on a planet someplace you helped out the orange skins…"

It's nice to see that racism is non-discriminatory.

"And you done considerable for the purple skins! Only there's skins you never bothered with..! The black skins! I want to-"

Guh..?

I think my brain just broke.

"-know… How come?! Answer me that, Mister Green Lantern!"

Okay, Jordan can put this arsehole in his place and then we can-.

"I… Can't…"

I shoot down, landing next to him with my right hand extended.

"Green Lantern, tag me in."

"Huh. Orange-?"

"You're clearly off your game." I make a beckoning motion with my right hand. "Tag me in."

"I-. Okay..?" He tags me.

I clap my hands together, grinning broadly. "Hi there! I'm Orange Lantern Two Eight One Four!"

"Ah, hey-."

"Would you happen to remember an incident in the newspapers about a decade ago, where a giant blue-skinned starfish alien tried to take over the world and turn all of its inhabitant into slave-drones?"

"I… I think I remember somethin'-."

"Now do you think that an alien creature that could barely tell different humans apart was going to leave the brown-skinned humans alone, or do you think it was going to throw racial sensitivity aside and include them in the whole slave drone thing?"

He looks quite uncertain. I just smile encouragingly.

"I.. guess it would probably have.. made us slaves as well."

"You bet it would. Or going back a little further, when the unfortunately-named criminal group 'Yellow Peril' were robbing banks in Coastal City, do you think they stuck a gun in the teller's face and said 'give us all your money, except the money being held in the accounts of black people', or do you think they just said 'give us all your money'?"

"They'd.. probably just take all the money."

"And do you think Green Lantern asked who the money belonged to before taking them down?"

"…no."

"Correct. And that's because with the sole exception of the fact that he still calls a long-time Eskimo friend of his 'Pieface',-"

Green Arrow -who I could tell was preparing his own diatribe against me- chokes. "He what?!"

"-he's not actually racist."

"Ah, Jesus." Jordan raises his hands. "Look, I didn't know people used it for their whole race, Eskimo Pie was just the only Eskimo thing I'd ever heard of, and he looked kinda like the guy on the packet! I just thought it was a bit of fun, you know? I live in California, how many Eskimos do you think I meet? When someone finally explained it to me, I stopped right away!"

Green Arrow is still glaring. "You better have apologised!"

"Yes, I apologised!" He glares at me. "I don't still do it!"

"Ah, my mistake then." I look around. "What was this all about?"

"Ah, I arrested a kid who has to live here after he assaulted the local slumlord. And me, but I could take it."

I… Nod. "Okay? Sounds entirely reasonable? Look, Green Lantern's a good guy, but he's an interplanetary police officer. If you don't like the local building codes, talk to your mayor. If you think they're being broken, talk to the local police. And if you think you've got it hard, I'll take you to where those orange skins live, and you can try surviving on their planet when the Citadel Empire bombards it from orbit."

I look around.

"We done?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd April 2258
17:23 GMT

I walk down the corridor in the station's green sector a little uncomfortably. Alright, there aren't many guards around-.

Those of you with military or policing experience, is it strange that there aren't guards around here?

Yes. / It's appalling. / Not necessarily.

Explain?

There's a security station nearby. In the event of an incident, their response time would be under a minute. On a station like this, they most likely rely on preventing weapons from coming aboard rather than directly observing the entire interior. Allowing different hostile species to have significant armaments would be a major security risk, and undermine Earthforce control.

Huh. Counterpoints?

There should still be a checkpoint at the entrances to important sections. Diplomatic passes and day passes.

I round a corner-. And then step back as a party of wide-haired centauri stroll past, taking up the entire width of the corridor. One takes the time to look at me as if I just farted in his face.

Surprisingly polite.

Alright, I could write a recommendation to the Chief of Security if you like.

I'm not using my one request for something like that.

No, no, that would actually help me.

I sigh as I approach the minbari section.

Are you sure we need to do this? It shouldn't take-.

Absolutely.

And is there a reason why I couldn't bring this up with the Ambassador's aide?

I will not speak with anyone from any Fane of Chudomo.

Can you tell me why?

Yes, but that would require me to educate you on four thousand years of minbari history. Minbari do not kill minbari, but we once did, and in more modern times we have other ways of expressing our displeasure.

She's only got the one aide, and I can't help but feel that-.

"Aah!"

I transition-. Some sort of internal garden. One minbari, bleeding from a knife wound in her abdomen. Two humans, faces covered, turning to me-.

A sonic stunner construct causes them to drop the knife and a… Cigar lighter? And then a hammer construct slams them into the wall. Scan. Concussion, nasal and auditory bleeding from the sonic energy, some cracked bones, nothing life threatening. Now the victim. Who is holding her wound with both hands while slumped against the wall, staring at me.

"Ma'am." I walk up to her and crouch down. "Do I have your permission to heal you?"

She gasps, grunts, and manages to nod.

Orange light flows from my hands… Minbari physiology isn't that complicated. I can see what's supposed to go where, copy and paste…

And done. Ah-. No, I should leave the blood and the cut cloth. There needs to be some evidence-.

Darn it. I should have left a shallow cut-. Now when the crime scene people-. It's awkward, but-. Ah, never mind.

I cut off the orange glow and offer her my right hand. "Ma'am? Any other injuries?"

And she's staring at me… Ah, Minbari passengers?

Religious awe. / Shock. / If she doesn't know the ambassador, then it doesn't matter.

Right. I smile encouragingly.

Unless you find her attractive?

Ah… She's okay? Definitely more appealing than the narn and brakiri-.

Don't even think it. / Revolting! Minbari do not mate with aliens! / This isn't getting us that meeting. Focus, human.

Ah. "Matthew Underwood to security."

The minbari woman finally decides to take my hand, and I help her upright. Her other hand is still feeling the site of her wound, her eyes switching from it to my face as she tries to formulate… A coherent thought.

"This is a secure line, pal."

"Demonstrably not."

"Listen-."

"A minbari woman has been assaulted in green…" I look at the wall. "Ten. Please send security.. and a medic."

"En route. You see where the attackers went?"

I glance at them. They haven't moved.

"They haven't gone anywhere. I'm afraid that I was a little rough with them… That's covered by Defence Of Another, right?"

"Sure. You just stay put."

"Thank you."

End.

"What did you do to me?"

The minbari woman has her head tilted curiously, her eyes slightly narrowed.

I renew my smile. "Absolutely nothing. The knife caused a shallow cut. I got the jump on your attackers and was able to slam their heads into the wall before they could react."

"Minbari do not lie."

"Can you editorialise?"

She looks away, weighing things up. "I.. believe that I can."

"Thank you."

"But… Between the two of us…"

"An elder race gave me a magic ring. Also, no guidance on what I'm supposed to do with it, and dropped me off on an uninhabited planet."

She blinks rapidly, drawing herself up slightly. "Being chosen by the First Ones is an honour. Perhaps they have such faith in you that they feel that further guidance is unnecessary?"

"I've spent a year reorganising my life, and the best idea I've been able to come up with for the long term is go back to being an administrative assistant, because at least I understood how that works."

She stares wide-eyed at me for a moment.

Uh, guys, did I just-?

"Hahahahaha!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th October 2013
14:03 GMT -5

Alan smiles at Noriel as the last of the group arrive at the Washington Monument. "Okay, that's about everyone. Zatanna?"

Zatanna takes a couple of steps out in front of the huddle, and I take a moment to observe the crowd around us. Tourism is, naturally enough, way down from its pre-Anti-Life peak, so these are probably locals. And they're keeping well back from what looks like a superhero pre-battle muster but is actually a field trip.

"Okay. After what happened last week with Hunter, I thought it would be a good idea if everyone got exposed to magical planes of reality."

Cody smiles nervously. "What, like..? In the Wizard of Oz?"

"Ah, kind-" Zatanna nods. "-of, yeah."

"Huh. Uh, okay." He looks at Henry, who gives him a reassuring nod. "So where are we going?"

"It's called 'The Heartlands'. It's a reflection of America."

"To be specific, the United States."

Don smiles at me. "Are you allowed in?"

"President Kennedy vouched for me."

Hiro raises his right hand awkwardly. "Would he..? Vouch for me also?"

Zatanna nods. "People who aren't Americans might experience a little more hostility than people who are, but it's still a fairly safe place to go. That's why we're using it for this class. So long as you don't go out of your way to antagonise anyone you meet, you should be fine. Hunter?"

He gives her his full attention.

"Paul?"

"What?"

"No singing Yankee Doodle."

"I wasn't going to, but suddenly I want to."

Edward looks confused. "I thought that was a Civil War song."

"The full lyrics contain the word 'trousers'."

"Oh." He frowns, because there's probably a bootleg American version that he's remembering.

Donald takes pity on him. "It was originally written to mock the colonial militia, but when we started winning the War of Independence, our soldiers started singing it at the British. You know, 'sure, we're a bunch of amateurs with no uniforms or training, but we still beat you'."

Edward smiles. "Oh! Thanks Dove!"

"Or I could just set fire to the White House."

Alan raises his hands. "Okay, settle down. Everyone ready?"

I nod instinctively, and a few of the others follow suit.

"Zatanna?"

"Yas, nac uoy ees,
Yb eht s'nwad ylrae thgil,
Tahw os ylduorp ew deliah,"

The air in front of the Monument grows increasingly wobbly.

"Ta eht s'thgiliwt tsal gnimaelg?"

It was a fluke, the cannons could easily have hit the damn flag, or if they'd used chain-shot-.

The portal shimmers and stabilises and I decide to lead the way, marching forwards towards the Monument.

"If anyone sees a vulture, let me know."

And… Through..? The sky is overcast, the buildings somewhat grey and discoloured… But there's no giant brass man firing an artillery cannon at us so already better than my first visit. And no giant fortress walls either, so things are definitely improving.

"Well lookie here!" I turn as I step aside, spotting Uncle Sam sitting on Abraham Lincoln's lap. "Can't say I thought you'd ever come back."

"Didn't plan to. Is the vulture around?"

"Y'all worried about Johnny? Don't be."

"I don't like getting people killed by accident. It makes me-."

Isaiah comes through first, eyes wide as he looks around. Then Antonia and Edward, looking much the same-.

Goodness me, but I've become jaded.

"Uh, excuse me?" Edward looks up at Uncle Sam as the rest of the tour pass through the portal. "You're not supposed to sit up there."

"Ah?" Uncle Sam raises his eyebrows as Zatanna pushes through the crowd towards Edward. "Well, I'm sure-" He turns to face the statue. "-I'm very sorry, Abe."

"Oh, that's alright." The statue reaches over and picks him up around the waist, and then lowers him to the ground. "I prefer you doing it to the other guy."

Edward blinks, his mouth hanging open. "Huh?"

"Shut your mouth, young man." Uncle Sam extends his cane and gently raises Edward's jaw. "You'll catch flies, else."

Alan nods to Uncle Sam. "Good to see you looking better."

"Well, there was a bad patch in the New Year, but I hear you fellahs fixed it."

"We did. How bad was it here?"

"Bad. Poor old Kennedy was runnin' on fumes, keeping it from getting worse." Uncle Sam looks around the party. "This an educational trip?"

"It is."

"Then perhaps I should just show you all. It's a mite gruesome, but maybe that'll just make it stick their noggins all the more firmly."

He turns and walks away from us, down a empty road.

"Come along, children! Let Uncle Sam show you what's what!"

Isaiah looks to Zatanna for confirmation. "Uncle Sam? The guy from World War Two?"

She nods as she leads the crowd after him. "That's him."

"How old is he?"

"About two hundred and thirty years old."

"Huh?"

"Essentially, he's the idealised embodied form of American idealism. Not sure why he looks like an old man. Blame your ancestors, I guess."

"My ancestors?"

Uncle Sam raises his walking stick and waves it pointedly. "The other fellow mighta cared that you're a negro, I just care that you're a good man. Don't you be thinking you're not included, son."

"Ah, okay. So where are we going?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th October 2013
14:09 GMT -5

I'm…

Ah…

Somewhere off to my left, someone is being sick.

Uncle Sam looks up proudly at the large and hearty-looking tree, both hands on his hips. "This here is the Tree of Liberty."

And… I'm honestly used to the smell by now. Mostly, my environmental shield blocks things like that out, but in here… No, I can smell it.

Uncle Sam turns around with a grin. "Who wants to water it?!"

Seeing as how everyone else is stunned…

"I'm neither a patriot nor a tyrant, but I'm happy to donate a pint if it helps?"

Alan's face falls when he realises that Uncle Sam is serious. "I didn't think it was quite this literal. I guess I really should have."

Uncle Sam ambles over to a miniature shed, goes inside and then comes out… With a watering can. He smiles as he offers it to me. Not being one to back down in the presence of a colonial, I take it-.

It's already filled with blood, good show.

I walk over to the closest root patch… I have no idea what sort of tree this is. The closest match on my database is the white pine, but the white pine is proportionally taller rather than squat like this tree, and the white pine's roots don't usually stick out of the ground like this.

Well… Here we go.

I tip the watering can, blood… Dribbling out, because blood is far more viscous than w-.

Fhhhh.

Water.

Is it..? Sucking?

The Tree of Liberty is some sort of vampire tree. Uh. Okay?

I turn towards the rest of the class. "Anyone else want a go?"

Alan gives me a thumbs up. "You're doing great, Paul."

Timothy looks the tree over. "What does this..? Actually..? Do?"

Uncle Sam steps over the exposed roots as he approaches the main trunk, running his hands over-. Is that a patch of tar?

"Keeps America free, more or less. It's a totem of belief, taking in strength from sacrifices made in its name and shining like a beacon in the souls of all Americans."

"Sacrifices?"

"Yeah, the blood of patriots and tyrants, son-. Are you English?"

Timothy nods. "Yes."

"You don't study American history at all?"

"Not much. I've picked up things from television and films, but there's a lot I don't know. Um. Is this an Aztec tree?"

Aztek looks mildly less impressed than normal. "No."

Uncle Sam walks slowly around the tree, keeping a hand on the trunk. "No, it surely is not? Why would you ask that?"

"You just told me it was powered by human sacrifice. Aztecs did that."

"It's powered by the blood shed by patriots as they fight for liberty, and by the blood of those they kill while doing it. Not by people dragged to a sacrificial slab to have their hearts cut out."

"Oh. Does that do anything to their souls?"

"Do souls have blood?"

"I'm… Not sure. I don't meet a lot of souls. Demons bleed, but I'm not sure if that's actually blood or not."

Uncle Sam finishes his circumnavigation of the Tree and wanders back towards the class. "You children have had interesting lives, haven't you?"

Is this bit of ground sufficiently watered? I look down-. There's no dampness on the ground, but the roots look… Satisfied, somehow. Okay, moving on.

Timothy is actually following me. That's the Constantine-trained instinct right there: see something interesting and start prodding it, regardless of how dangerous it is to you and everyone around you.

"So is it literally blood? Do you go out and… Suck it out of the patriots and tyrants? I think someone would notice that."

"Don't be a fool, boy. The 'blood' here is a representation of their sacrifice. It's an echo if you will, rather than actual blood. Though actual blood would work just as well, if'n you could bring it here."

Timothy frowns at him. "It's the soul of their blood?"

"It's more a shell that builds up around them as they live. The space they make in the world. You know about poltergeists?"

"Oh." Timothy nods. "Yes. That makes sense. What's in the shed?"

Uncle Sam grins. "The bodies, of course. Need to drain 'em properly!"

There's a noticeable intake of breath from several people, but Timothy appears to take that in his stride, too.

"And the bodies are made from the echoes of their lives."

"You're pretty sharp. But it's not a simple thing, draining 'em. Have to keep an eye out for the worms."

"Worms?"

Uncle Sam nods. "Spineless, bile-filled things that never did a good day's work in their miserable lives. They love feeding off the blood of patriots, too. But they don't give anything back; they just multiply. I think the Anti-Life killed most of 'em off, but I want to make sure they don't come back."

Timothy thinks for a moment, then looks at me for confirmation. "This is Washington, right?"

"Yes."

"So spineless worms are..?" He looks meaningfully at Antonia.

"Yes."

She looks confused. "What?"

"They're a manifestation of systemic political corruption. No offence intended to your father…"

She choke-laughs.

"They're more dangerous than they sound. Ah, Uncle Sam? What happened to The Brass?"

"Shrunk down and paralysed, with no one feeding him. I can show you where he's lying later. But first, how about all you kids help me check the whole area for worms. It'll make my life easier, and improve the state of your government."

Zatanna nods happily. "Sure! We'd love to help. Okay everyone: teams of four. Let's deworm Washington!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd April 2258
17:29 GMT

The Chief of Security has a quick whispered conversation with one of his subordinates, and then strolls back towards me. A momentary frown is smoothly replaced with a customer service smile, and he gives me a polite nod.

"Well, they're not dead. Apparently they won't even suffer any long-term consequences… Maybe lose a few brain cells from the head trauma, but nothing serious."

I nod. "Good show."

"So, ah..?" He shrugs. "What brings you to Green Sector?"

"I was hoping to meet with Ambassador Delenn. I intend to travel to Minbar soon, and I want to sort out a visa, and… Ask about what I need to do to avoid the sort of mistakes tourists usually make…"

He nods. "You make an appointment?"

"Ah, no."

He frowns in puzzlement. "No?"

"Ah… Short version. The place on Minbar I want to visit has some sort of… Feud with the sect her aide is a member of… I don't-. I don't really understand it… But I don't understand how that part of minbari cultures works…"

"Eh." He shrugs as he considers his tablet. "Me neither, pal. I assume you're not carrying?"

"Carrying what?"

He gives me some side eye. "A weapon. You're not armed."

"I don't have a gun or a knife or anything like that. Ah, I've got a multi-tool. I took it through customs, so I didn't think there was a problem."

He shakes his head. "Nah, that's fine. Did you hit 'em with it?"

I shake my head. "No. I... It wouldn't really… I mean, I-. I don't really have any training with close combat, but I don't think it would really-. I don't think hitting someone with it would have been practical."

"You… Work out?"

"I've been trying? Uh." I shake my head. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugs. "Well, they got the concussion from where you slammed 'em against the wall, but there's a couple of other injuries, and I'm just-" He shrugs again, gurning as he does so. "-trying t' work out how they got 'em."

"Ah… I might have hit them a few more times?" I shake my head. "Sorry, I'm not used to getting into fights."

He considers me for a moment, and then nods. "Yeah, the adrenaline makes everything kinda blurry. But like I said, they're not dead, and Miss Mayan supports your version of events-." He frowns. "Do you know where all the blood came from?"

I shake my head. "I didn't really see..? I was assuming they just gave her a shallow cut, and the… There was an enthusiastic vein there or something?"

"Eh, maybe. Do you know why she was laughing when we got here?"

Because minbari humour is based on the failure to gain spiritual enlightenment, and me saying that after being elevated by a First One I wanted to go back to doing what I did before hit her funny bone.

"I made a small joke, and she started laughing like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. I guess the.. minbari stress response is pretty similar to the human one."

"Hm. Okay, well, you're free to go." I-. "Are you going to be on the station for the next couple of days? Just in case I need to follow up."

"'Couple of days', yes. Then, hopefully, off to Minbar. And if I don't get the visa… I don't know, somewhere else. I'll leave my flight plan with Babylon Control."

"Okay." He nods. "Hopefully there won't be anything else. Oh, ah, and… Good work." I frown-. "Taking down two armed men for someone you'd never met?"

"I…" I shrug, smiling. "I guess I just like helping people."

His face sort of freezes for a moment, the one deviation from his 'friendly cop' persona that I've seen. "Right... Have a good stay."

Okay, the attackers are being carried away to the cells, a couple of maintenance workers are cleaning up the blood, and Miss Mayan is… Looking at me.

I walk towards her. "I can fix your robe, if you like."

"I think that I will keep it as a memento."

"Did you think you might forget, otherwise?"

Her mouth twitches into a smile. "Mh-muh." … "No, I do not believe that will be a problem."

"Glad to hear it. I don't know what concussion does to minbari, and I expect that most of the doctors on this station specialise in treating humans."

"I overheard you say that you wished to speak to Ambassador Delenn regarding a travel permit."

"Yes. I don't suppose you know her, do you-? No, sorry, that's ridiculous-."

"Yes. We grew up together."

"Oh. Um."

"I will introduce you. I was heading to my quarters to rest, but I do not think that I will be sleeping for some time."

"I'd offer to help with that, but I don't know enough about minbari neurology to do it safely."

She leads me out of the garden area and we start down the corridor. "Do you wish to visit anywhere in particular on Minbar, or do you wish to see the entire planet?"

"Valnern."

"Ah." She thinks for a moment. "The Unfinished Basilica?"

"Yes."

"It is supposed to be quite beautiful."

Not yet it's not.

"That's… Not why I want to go. You see, while this magic ring was a gift from the people of Maltus, I can only keep the thing charged with the help of a few hundred souls I liberated from a Soul Hunter reliquary." She stops, staring at me. "I let all the ones who wanted to pass on pass on. The ones who opted to stay with me are all people with unfinished business in the material universe."

"And what unfinished business do they have with the Unfinished Basilica?"

"Zeen Mataan wants to finish her final project."

"The architect?"

"Yes."

She looks uncertain. "Who left the basilica unfinished as a mark of respect to those who died during the plague which occurred during its construction, and had the design records destroyed?"

Orange light surges around me as control of my body is usurped.

"I called a halt to work while the plague was infecting the workers because they could not work in those conditions! I wished to resume work afterwards, but the town council were no longer prepared to pay for the crystal sheets it required, nor for the service of the artisans skilled enough to realise my design! I burned my records in protest at their cretinous lack of vision."

"EK!" I clench my left fist and exert myself, Zeen Mataan's voice fading into the background. "This is my body. I'm willing to share but do not take it over like that!"

Mayan is staring at me.

"Her skill at her profession was enough that the Soul Hunters collected her, but in two hundred years they hardly ever spoke to her and I think we all know why."

…

Mayan takes a moment to compose herself.

"I think it may be best if you do not tell Delenn the precise reason for your visit."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th October 2013
18:32 GMT -5

We draw some attention as we float through Tamarus, but not as much as I think Ian is used to. Or that he was expecting. He's staring at everything like a tourist, while Toni… Is looking a bit awkward, and is defensively pulling her jacket around her.

I gesture for Ian to head over to the local park, and fly over to her. "You alright?"

"Yeah..? Just… Self-conscious…" She stares as an athletic tamaranean woman in a bikini floats past, giving us a wave. I wave back. "Oh God, it's like being in the school showers again."

"Ah… Your physical development is within the normal bounds of a young woman your age?"

I get a mild glare, then she goes back to looking around. "How do they all..? Look like this?"

"Good diet, physical exercise, genetic engineering and inadvertent eugenics."

"Eugenics? You mean…? Like..? They kill the ugly on-"

"Nonono."

"-es? Oh, so… What do you mean?"

"The psions claimed that they engineered the first tamaraneans. I don't know if that's true or not, but the tamaraneans don't have a creation myth or creator deity. The nearest thing they have is X'Hal, and they know perfectly well that she isn't capable of creation."

Toni nods as I look around at the city. I don't know how much of this is their own reconstruction planning and how much is Adam Blake, but I wouldn't know that a few years ago this part of the city was a crater being reclaimed by nature. From what I saw, the rest of the world is benefiting from his sagacity in the same way. It all puts my efforts with Hub City in the shade.

"Between all the attacks that Tamaran has suffered, people who couldn't cope, died. People who couldn't adjust to how they needed to live, died. People who weren't as fit as they could make themselves, died. Tamaraneans are relentlessly upbeat in almost all circumstances, strongly inclined towards athleticism because they're so strong naturally that it actually impeded their technological development but left them looking like..."

A couple of tamaranean men flying past in their pants recognise me and wave. I wave back.

"Swim suit models."

"…yeah."

"If you like, I can get Artemis and Robin to suggest exercise programs? Artemis used to wear a costume that exposed her stomach so you know that she didn't have any issues."

"Yeah, I g-." She frowns. "Didn't you give them super strength?"

"Yes."

"Can't you do that for me?"

"Ah, not reliably. As you're a metahuman… That is to say, your physiological-."

"You can't do it because you-" She nods. "-don't know how my body will react."

"And since you're not eighteen, you can't just tell me to eyeball it." I shrug while smiling apologetically. "Sorry."

"Maybe I can get these chicks to tell me their diet plan."

"Ah, you could, but it's basically 'no refined sugar, added fat or labour-saving machinery'."

She nods. "Fruit, vegetables… Is meat okay?"

"As long as it's fresh." Hm. Alright, in Wanted that was part of the villain training… "Ah, how would you feel about doing a shift in a slaughterhouse?"

"Pretty bad?"

"I ask because when we were dealing with Anarky's mind control crystals we came across Anarky impaled on a spear. Toyman was extremely distressed, which is perfectly normal but if the same thing happened to you it might be a distraction."

"I've seen dead people before."

"Yes, but did you see people who'd been torn apart?"

"… No. Do I..? Need to? I mean, is that just something that happens?"

"I saw bullet-ridden corpses with blood pouring out on my first mission with the team. It's not quite the same as seeing someone's insides outside, but in terms to how messed up it is, it's getting there."

"And… Um. Is that..? Normal?"

"For what? I mean… Not wanting to give anyone's secret identity away here, but Batman and Superman both started at twenty-one. Diana was sixteen when she joined in with World War Two. Robin… Ah. Wasn't yet in his teens when he started as Robin."

"Seriously?"

"Yah. I understand that other members of the League have made it clear how unimpressed they are about that. I-."

My ring blinks.

"Ah, just to be clear, you don't have to, but freezing up in a firefight can get you and everyone with you killed." I raise my left hand. "Answer."

Alan's face appears. "Paul, where are you right now?"

"Tamaran, with my students. Is something happening?"

"Ah, maybe. This is.. gunna sound a bit strange, but… Did you cure Alzheimer's?"

"Not that I remember."

He frowns. "I thought you-." He freezes, and then nods, laughing. "Right, right, but… Did you?"

"No. I can cure neural degeneration in a single individual easily enough, but that wouldn't undo the basic tendency of the human body to self-destruct. Why do you ask?"

"Did you give something called an 'eye drive' to the League's commercial development team?"

"Oh, yeah, back in my first year. It's supposed to protect the person using it from memory wipes. I put it together after our first fight with Psimon. I just integrate it into my armour now…"

Wait…

"But it.. might help with Alzheimer's..? Early and mid stages, anyway. It wouldn't help once things got into the later stages… Honestly, it might help with normal age-related memory loss too."

"Yeah, that's what they're telling me. Catherine's… Having a bit of an.. episode. You don't need to drop everything right now, but you should probably head to the Hall of Justice… Ah, when you can."

Huh.

"Alright, sure. Probably be a couple of hours. Can you keep her calm until then?"

"Yes, but for once she's happy that you're giving her extra work. Good work, Paul."

And his face vanishes.

Huh.

Hooray for me, I guess.

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th April 2258
10:09 Station Time
Michael Garibaldi

Hm.

Okay, so it's definitely him-.

My office door opens, and my head jerks around-.

Jeff walks in. "Michael, you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah." I press a couple of buttons and put the picture my guys took of 'Matthew Underwood' up on the monitor. "This is Matthew Underwood. Stopped an attack on a minbari poet yesterday by some nutjobs who think the War's still going on."

Jeff nods, and I press the button and move to the next image. "And this was taken just before Lyta Alexander left the station."

Matthew Underwood and Lyta Alexander eating lunch together at a restaurant.

"I see. You think he had something to do with her disappearance?"

Do I?

Apart from the fact that he clearly thought I wouldn't recognise a sonic stunner, not really. Too earnest. Way too earnest.

"He didn't give me that kind of vibe. Problem is, when I asked him about it, he said 'I guess I just like helping people'."

Jeff chuckles. "Not everyone's so jaded-."

I shake my head. "Nah, see, that's not it. You ever met anyone who's been sentenced to death of personality… After it's been done?"

Jeff looks more sombre as he shakes his head. "I can't say I have."

"I have. 'I just like helping people' is one of the phrases they get programmed with. Now, would a regular guy take on two armed guys for some woman he's never met?" I shrug. "Sure, maybe. But someone who's personality is completely based around helping other people? Yeah, they'll do it ten times out of ten."

Jeff nods. "How does that relate to Lyta's disappearance?"

I shake my head, tensing my jaw. "I don't know yet. Because if I'm right, then he either had it done before he met her, or afterwards. If it was before, then he wouldn't hurt her. Could be a witness, could be a coincidence. But if it was done between now and then…"

"Then he was a murderer who got caught, sentenced and mind-wiped, and the prosecutors might not have known that Lyta was missing."

I nod. "Yeah. Now, a telepath should have gone through his head to see if there were any other victims before they carried out the sentence, but from what I hear? They all hate doing it, so they mostly just confirm that the jury got the right verdict."

"Did you already send this picture to the investigators?"

I nod, taking a deep breath. "Yeah. And they both got on the shuttle that was taking her back to Earth… But here's where things get really weird."

"Okay?"

"He got on the shuttle. He didn't get off the shuttle, and neither did she. I checked all the station's exterior cameras in case someone pulled the same boarding pod trick as our changeling friend, nothing. Fine, not my problem. But then I looked at Matthew Underwood's background, and turns out? He doesn't have one."

Jeff raises his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"No birth records, no tax records, no school records, nothing. He's got medical records from a check-up he had in med-bay, and that's it. As far as any record I can find says, he just appeared out of nowhere a few days before she went missing."

Jeff frowns, and I'm glad this is bugging someone else now. "Any matches on his face, fingerprints or iris scan?"

"Nada."

"Do you think he's a spy?"

"If he hadn't walked in and requested citizenship, maybe. But one of our spies would have had all these records arranged for them in advance. And if he's not one of ours, then, who? Centauri? Nah, centauri spies are pros. They'd get records in the system first, too."

"Do people who've had their minds wiped get new records?"

"They're supposed to. But get this: when he got asked where he came from, he told the guy doing the interview that he woke up on an uninhabited planet with no idea how he got there."

And now Jeff looks like I feel. "So… You think someone wiped his mind and then pushed him out an airlock?"

I lean back in my chair, shrugging. "I don't know, Commander. This one's… Weird."

"Do you want my authorization to bring him in for questioning?"

"And ask him what?" I shake my head. "Whether he's telling the truth or not, he's just gunna give us the same story. No, what I'd like you to do is request that the Justice Department confirm whether they lost him or not. That needs to come from the commanding officer."

"Okay." He nods. "Anything else?"

"Well, if he is a spy, and he's one of ours, I need to stop investigating. Now, I can send a request to Earthforce Intelligence, but if you do it they might actually answer."

"Just say we may have found one of their agents and ask if they want us to back off?"

"Yeah. Because a disappearing telepath? No one's stupid enough to try kidnapping a telepath for ransom. She didn't have any enemies and there were no signs of violence. That doesn't say 'attack' to me. That says 'telepath underground' and 'she went voluntarily'."

Jeff thinks about that for a moment. "Lyta was a member of Psi Corps."

"Yeah, well, maybe she saw something she didn't like. She was going to Earth 'cause she got ordered to, right? Maybe it was something to do with that? Whatever else she saw while she was poking around Kosh's mind? I dunno. Guess I just wanted someone else to share my frustration."

Jeff nods, then thinks for a moment. "Is he still on the station?"

"Shipping out for Minbar tomorrow."

"What for?"

"Tourism. Ambassador Delenn signed off on his visa personally."

"Is he coming back?"

"Nothing's filed, but his lease on his quarters in Brown Sector is paid up for another eight months." Aaaah. "And that's the other thing. He owns his own ship."

"His own ship?"

"Yeah. Bought it off the narn government. Personal yacht. It's moored outside the station now. Which…" I shake my head. "I don't know what it means, because I can't think of a way for someone who's been through death of personality to make enough money to buy it the regular way, and I can't think of anything he could have done for Ambassador G'Kar to get it as a reward."

"Okay. I'll get those information requests filed, and you can decide if you wanna investigate any further. And…" He nods to himself. "Let me know when he comes back. I think I should have a talk with him myself."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th October 2013
21:38 GMT -5

I knock on the door to Catherine's office. I know she said that I could see her the moment I get here, but-

The door is wrenched open

"…happy to set something up, but our-" Catherine appears in the doorway, beckoning me inside as she talks on her phone headset. "-inventor isn't on Earth right now." I walk inside as she returns to her desk. "Of course I will. Speak to you later, Mark."

She ends the call, puts the headset down on her desk and then sits down heavily.

"Orange Lantern… How did you forget about this?"

"Well, I-" I shrug. "-didn't have the same relationship with Atlantis or KordTech back when I came up with it that I have now. I didn't make the link to Alzheimer's, so I was only really thinking about it in terms of anti-telepath technology or maybe normal forgetfulness. So I just dumped the design in the database, wrote up a summary and stopped thinking about it."

"And you've been using it ever since?"

"Whenever I'm in one of my heavier armour suits. My power ring prevents me forgetting things, so it's really only there in case someone tries to telepathically remove my memories again and that's never come up."

She nods slowly, staring blankly forwards.

"Why has this come up now?"

"Senator Moretti spoke to the press about it."

"Really?" I frown. "Why now?"

"He was complaining about the delays in getting F.D.A. approval."

"How long has anyone been trying to get approval for?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't know about this until today either."

"Getting approved for the purple healing ray didn't take very long."

She focuses on me. "The purple healing ray has a clean fifty-year safety record, and doesn't interface with the human brain." She then makes a circle with her right hand. "And it probably didn't hurt that you were actively putting your weight behind it."

"Huh, okay." Wait. This isn't a Ghost in the Shell thing, is it? The whole reason why The Laughing Man was able to find out about the suppression of the micromachine treatment for cyberbrain sclerosis -which actually worked, unlike the common drug treatments- was because the same government officials who prevented it getting licensed used it themselves because they knew that it worked. "This… Might just be me being a huge cynic, but-."

"Antonia Monetti. Senior."

My eyes widen. "Oh whaw. Just to check, I was about to ask if anyone with the power to get a trial approved needed an Alzheimer's cure."

"I know. And Senator Monetti doesn't have control over anything like that, but he knows people, and he almost certainly had someone looking into you since you started training his daughter."

"Makes sense. So… Was someone suppressing the technology, or did his investigator just bring it to his attention?"

"I don't know, and frankly I don't have the time to find out. Are you available for interviews over the next couple of days?"

The nice thing about being able to move just about anywhere instantly is that I can completely skip travel time. If I know that I have to be in a particular place at a particular time I can turn up exactly at that time and not a moment sooner.

"Certainly. Just let me know when."

"Orange Lantern, I've seen-"

"You can use my name."

"-the aftermath of your interactions with the press."

"And I'm sorry about all the extra work I've given you. But this is an Alzheimer's treatment which I haven't done any work on for years. I'm basically going to be saying nice things about the development team, how much I hope it helps people and… That's it. Might bring up my Nan, but… I don't really see how it can go wrong."

She sighs.

"Paul, a specialist medical interviewer might actually limit themselves to the… 'Eye drive'-. Why did you call it that?"

"It's a defictionalisation."

She looks blank.

"I got the idea from the television series 'Doctor Who'. There was an alien species that made it impossible to think about them unless you were looking at one of them. In order to actually work with people, they gave their allies a pair of glasses which incorporated a memory backup that their ability didn't wipe. A… Drive that they wore over their eyes. It doesn't actually have to be a pair of glasses, but part of it does have to be worn next to the head."

"Oh… Kay, plenty of inventors have been inspired by works of fiction. Does your version resemble the device in Doctor Who?"

"No, not-. Well, I built one that does because that was what I was going for, but the blueprint I sent to the commercial development people is pared right down. It just looks like a box and a strap. And I don't think the B.B.C. would sue over an Alzheimer's treatment."

"Did you invent the whole thing yourself?"

"No, just putting together bits of existing technology. The interface comes from Hartford Jackson's Thinking Cap, and the memory storage is something I got from Thomas Morrow's advanced robots. Add a few bits and pieces from wherever I could scavenge them…"

"Anything you got from other planets?"

"No, this was before I could leave Earth. I didn't even get Green Lantern Two Eight One Four A's database until Christmas."

"Is your use of these technologies as a form of memory backup an original application?"

"A-h… Morrow created an android based on himself with his own memories, but I don't think he ever tried to improve his own mental acuity by cybernetically augmenting himself. Jackson definitely didn't."

"Are there any problems with the device?"

"Not that I know about. It's never caused any problems for me, but I didn't test it to a level that would be required for a licence."

"But-. Do you mean to tell me that you plugged it into your brain without testing it?"

"I tested it enough to know that it worked. Thinker's Cap technology was tested in the field extensively, and other than being a bit fragile when built with nineteen fifties components there weren't any problems." Though… "I could ask Doctor Morrow to double-check, if it would make things better?"

"I thought he was dead."

"No, just not alive. He's a construct, but his personality appeared to be intact. Albeit the personality he had as a very old man, rather than the one he had when he was younger."

"You should do that. You should have done that two years ago."

"I… Maybe. For me it doesn't really matter because my ring could just reset my body, but… Alright. I'd probably have done that if I was actually going to do anything else with it."

"Okay. Do that…" She checks the clock. "Tomorrow, and I'll contact you when I've set the interview up."

"Okay-."

"And before the interview happens, we're going to do a practice run. I'm not letting you anywhere near a microphone unprepared."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th April 2258
09:48 GMT

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

Kethen smiles at me, bowing at such an angle that her maid uniform displays her décolletage. I move my eyes away, both because I'm her employer and because I know how the brakiri reproductive system works and that's never going to happen. Yes, having a housekeeper tied to the Rooshnoon-Koravii Syndicate is useful. As a favoured client, her discretion can be relied upon as long as I don't act directly against her syndicate's core interests. She can cook, clean, perform basic maintenance and cover the vast holes in my knowledge of 23rd century, and that more than makes up for the discomfort I feel at her flirting.

"No, thank you, that will be all."

She curtseys-. That can't be a brakiri thing, right? She's copied that from something human.

Sitting opposite me, Mayan looks like she feels even more awkward about the situation than I do. She stares directly at the table as Kethen swishes past, stretching her shoulders and quietly clearing her throat.

"I know it's a little awkward, but please bear with it. I'll complete the basilica, and you'll be on Earth before your original shuttle would have gotten you there."

"I know that human culture is different to ours, but… Erotic interaction between members of different species is something that no minbari would be comfortable with."

I can't quite stop myself laugh-spluttering.

Mayan looks at me curiously. "I understand that a good deal of human humour relates to the violation of social conventions. What is it about what I said that amuses you?"

"Some minbari are comfortable with it."

She frowns, which… Minbari faces are almost identical in structure to human faces, but there's a slight ridge where the eyebrows would be, and the frown emphasises it. "I understand that such things are depicted in certain human… Entertainment media, but I believe that they use actors in costume."

"Probably, but that wasn't what I meant." I raise my left hand, a minbari genetic sequence appearing above it. "See this segment here?"

"I do, but I am not a geneticist."

"Me neither, but I can do a spot-the-difference puzzle." I display more. "See how it's the same across all of these minbari genetic sequences?"

"I do."

"Except." I point to one which is noticeably different from the others, even as it shares that one sequence. "This one isn't minbari. It's Commander Jeffrey Sinclair."

She blinks, pulling away. "What do you mean?"

"While it's technically possible that one part of the minbari population evolved exactly the same genetic sequence as one part of the human population -after all, there are only so many ways to process common chemicals- it's far more likely that they've got a common ancestor. At some point, either naturally or in a laboratory, minbari and human D.N.A. were combined, and the resulting hybrid was able to reproduce with regular minbari."

She staring at me, and her breathing is-.

"Are you alright?"

"Do they have any outward signs?"

"The males have beards. I didn't see any that didn't have beards, but there aren't all that many minbari on Babylon Five. And they're the only minbari I've seen with any body hair."

Her eyes dart around, and I think I've just exploded her world-

"A minbari not of Minbar."

-view.

"I realise that it's a bit of a shock." I dismiss the construct. "I didn't think that different intelligent species could breed. Earthforce actually has a list of species that it's safe to even attempt physical intimacy with."

Kethen sticks her head back around the door. "Are brakiri on it?"

"Yes, with certain… Warnings."

"Oh? Based on the human books I read on the subject, I thought that there wasn't much difference."

Ah…

"I realise that between.. different cultures, it's sometimes difficult to work out what's supposed to be taken literally and what is.. imagination, but I'm afraid… Female brakiri are a… Niche fetish." I frown. "And don't I look like a brakiri who's had a sander run over their face to you?"

Her eyes widen and her mouth hangs open for a moment, then she nods. "Yes! And I guess I look like a human who's had a run-in with a chisel."

I nod cautiously. "Something like that. So I don't-. If this is something you enjoy doing when you interact with people, that's fine. I just want to be clear that as far as I'm concerned the compatibility issues between humans and brakiri means that I'm never going to seriously reciprocate."

"No, I'm just playing a role. You're supposed to be a rich guy on a cruise. Having a saucy maid is just part of the look."

"And if I was in Syndicate space you would be perfect for that role, but as Mayan-" I gesture to her as she continues muttering to herself. "-is demonstrating, even the implication makes minbari have a bit of an episode."

"And ruining one of their landmarks won't?"

"Completing one of their landmarks. I'm sure that after having a little while to adapt, they'll get used to it. And as far as I'm any judge, it looks great."

Of course it looks great. It is sublime!

Ah, you're back. Please remember the rules from now on.

You are correct. I apologise.

Did you hear that bit about bearded minbari?

Children of Valen?

They're descended from your prophet?

Our most notable prophet, yes. What of them?

The beards come from D.N.A. they share with humans. I'm not sure how it got-.

Bleuroughoughrruh!

…

She's just been sick in my head. Marvellous. Other minbari?

We're thinking about it.

"What..?" Mayan appears to have recovered, while Kethen has left. I think they've learned to recognise when I'm consulting the peanut gallery. "What do the departed say?"

"The idea that the 'Children of Valen' have human D.N.A. is causing a certain amount of disquiet. Ah. Is that something that I should mention to your government, or avoid mentioning to your government?"

"Avoid, for now." She takes a deep breath. "I need to meditate upon this."

"Okay. Ah. One last question before we head out. How big is the Grey Council?"

"The Council is made up on three minbari from each caste."

"Ah. Well, it's nice to know that they're taking Babylon Five so seriously."

"Any attempt to avoid a repeat of the futile slaughter of the Earth-Minbar War should be embraced. But I do not follow your reasoning."

"Ambassador Delenn. She's a member. I originally thought that maybe the Council was a large legislative body, but if it's nine people that can't be the case."

Her eyes widen slightly. "Membership of the Council is a secret. How do you know?"

"It's written on her forehead." She stares. "The triangle? I see it both as a triangle and the name. Is it..? Not visible to anyone else?"

"No. It is not." Mayan takes another deep breath. "It seems that I have many things to meditate upon."

"Right, but you're coming to see me finish the basilica first, right?"

"I would not dare leave you on Minbar unattended."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th October 2013
12:31 GMT -5

Senator Monetti smirks as I sit down across from him in the Philadelphia branch of Big Belly Burger. The south-west Big Belly Burger in Philadelphia, I should say. Much like Sundollar Coffee, a city this size will inevitably sprout several of the places.

"Orange Lantern. We keep having lunch together, my wife's gunna want an explanation."

I unwrap my own burger and wave it. "What's this about me curing Alzheimer's Disease?"

He sits back, frowning. "What, you didn't know?"

"I know now."

I take a bite of the… Fat-rich pork burger, as the Senator considers his approach.

"Star Labs Philadelphia does R&D work on super technology, sometimes for the Justice League. After a thing a couple of years ago where some failed mad scientist made a giant monster out of toxic waste, they took the job of working out how the hell that happened. Thing is, the monster wasn't quite as dead as they thought it was."

I nod. I remember the League's file on the encounter.

"Ever since then, I've kept an eye on the place. And I think everyone who lives here has too. The prototype… What'd'ya call it? Eye Drive?" I nod. "It ended up there. I think I might of seen it when you first handed it over." He shakes his head. "Didn't think about it until I had my security guys do a background check on you. You know about my mother?" I nod again. "Star Labs weren't doing anything with it, so I thought I'd give 'em a kick up the ass."

"Did they actually get F.D.A. approval for human testing?"

"Nah. I don't think they've even started animal testing yet." He leans closer. "What I wanna know is, how come you haven't pushed it harder?"

"There's only so much time in the day, and I'm not a physician. It didn't occur to me that it would be useful for people with cognitive decay-related conditions. Maybe if I'd.. ended up having to use it more, but I didn't."

"That 'Simon Jones' guy, you said."

I nod. "That's the fellow."

"I don't suppose you've got a whole load of test data, do you?"

"Not a lot. I submitted everything I had at the time. I can see if Doctor Morrow has anything else he'd like to share."

"I thought he was dead."

"Technically, but so what?"

He looks nonplussed. "Alright, if you say it's not a problem…" He sighs. "But it's still gunna be about a decade before anything gets final approval. Longer, if the regular scientists can't understand it. Can Morrow turn up in the office?"

"I can ask, but in theory, yes."

"Is he gunna stink up the place?"

"No, he-. You know how Lanterns can make constructs?"

"Like, when you make things with your rings? Sure."

"Orange Lanterns can turn people into constructs. It's not exactly photogenic, and I prefer not to use it on anything that isn't a monster. But my ring got stolen a couple of years ago by a career criminal named Nylor Truggs-" Who I haven't seen for a while. So he's probably planning something. "-and he decided that he didn't want Doctor Morrow to die. So he turned him into a construct, mind, body and soul. And when I got the ring back, he became mine."

He frowns. "You can't own a guy."

"I can't legally own a guy. And I make a point of not exercising authority over him, and left him in the care of his youngest surviving son. But, de facto? I can control him as much as I want to whenever I want to, and I can't turn it off."

"You..? You said, his soul?"

"Yes. The souls is ultimately just a mass of magic energy. There are any number of things that can directly affect it."

"And you can't..? Turn it off or something?"

"I can't. The people who made power rings can't. I know of.. one alien king who can, because God gave him that power, but he doesn't like doing it because he thinks we'll start using the ability casually if he reverts people every time. But the point is that he is available for consultation."

"Okay. So, maybe in nine years they'll get approval. Is that something… You can do something about?"

"…like what?"

"Like you said, the League's got effective carte blanche to do whatever you want. I don't wanna do anything unsafe, but I also know that F.D.A. rules weren't written with power rings in mind. I tried making noise with the Senate committee, but the chairwoman shot me down."

"I can't personally require the F.D.A. to do anything. The League isn't a replacement executive, it's more of a replacement system. If it uses its power that way."

"And they don't wanna."

"Most of them are idealistic Americans. If the F.D.A. was openly not fit for purpose, it might be possible to persuade them… Otherwise… It is a cybernetic brain add-on. There are all sorts of ways that something like that can go wrong."

"But you used it anyway."

"I have a power ring. I can fix most things if something goes wrong. That's not something I can necessarily do for other people."

"You know…" He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "I get.. I'm lucky. My mom survived Anti-Life, and God knows it wasn't because Mannheim was trying to keep her alive like he was us on Capital Hill. And she's still mostly there. Takes her a moment some days, but I've never dropped by her apartment and had her not recognize me at all. But that day is coming. And I think my daughter's had it happen to her."

I… I don't…

"If… Your mother's judgement is impaired, I assume that you have power of attorney?"

"Yeah."

"And you understand that… A senator asking for someone to use a treatment on a member of his family that's not available to anyone else is… That's got to be a violation of something."

"Probably. But it's Mom, so I don't give a rat's ass. Given what some people get away with, I think arranging better medical treatment for my Mom would probably improve my approval rating. Or, Hell, I can quit. The real money's in lobbying."

"Yeah, that… Makes sense. Er. No promises. I'll… Talk to people on my end, and… Is it alright if I visit your mother?"

"Yeah, sure. She probably won't remember it anyway. I'll tell her nurse you'll be dropping by."

"Thank you."

"Look, there's… I don't think I can offer you anything you can't just do for yourself. And you've already got my first born. But if you do this… I'll owe you. A lot."

I nod slowly. "I'll… Bear that in mind."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th October 2013
14:00 GMT -5

I press the doorbell on the dot of 2 o'clock, and then step back to wait.

Antonia Monetti Senior lives in a nice apartment in Philadelphia, with a live-in carer paid for by her son. I could look at her medical records to find out exactly how bad her condition is, but that feels… Wrong.

Heh. Global surveillance and summary justice are fine, but looking at an old woman's medical records when she's suffering from a condition I could almost certainly cure…

The door opens and-

"Hey, Orange Lantern. The boss said you'd be coming by."

-a man I assume is Derek the Nurse is revealed.

"And indeed here I am." Check driver's licence records and nurse certification… Yes, good. "Is Missus Monetti having a good day?"

"Ah… More or less. You can come in, but if she starts getting distressed…"

"I'll leave, of course."

"Yeah, it's-. I've been here for three years, and she mostly knows who I am." He guides me through the flat towards the rear. "Gets my name about two thirds of the time. The other third's mostly Dennis."

"Can she handle day-to-day life?"

"It… Depends. She can use the bathroom and dress and feed herself… Cooking… She sometimes forgets what she's doing part way through, and that's not safe with hot elements and boiling water."

And it's only going to get worse. I remember that as Terry Pratchett's condition got worse he said 'I know three people who have successfully survived brain tumours but no-one who has beaten Alzheimer's'.

And… There's the woman herself. With an easel, canvass and paint.

"She's painted on and off for her whole life. And it doesn't really matter if she forgets something 'cause everything's still there where she left it."

"Hm?" She turns around, pallet in hand. I get a blank blink, then she focuses on-. "Dennis?"

He smiles. "Missus Monetti? This is Orange Lantern."

"Oh, like Green Lantern? I always thought it was strange that he was a green lantern but wore a red shirt."

I nod. "I think it was so the lantern on his chest stood out."

It wasn't. It's because the only clean jersey he had on the day they took the photograph was red, and then he felt that he was stuck with it. According to him, he didn't connect the dots on the photograph being black and white for three years. And that was only because Jay pointed it out.

"The reason I'm here is because…" I take a civilian model eye drive out of subspace. It's more of a necklace than the original eyepiece version, and connects to the brain via the brainstem. "Your-."

"Is that a telephone, dear? I prefer the bigger ones we used to have, with the rotary dials. "

"Me too, honestly. No, this-."

She frowns. "Who are you?" I-. "Lantern." She looks awkward. "Lantern. The orange one. I'm sorry, my memory… It's not very good."

"Yes. This device can probably fix that."

"It can?"

"It stores your memories outside of your brain."

"Like a notebook? I'm supposed to write things down, but I forget to do it."

I look over to Derek, who shrugs.

"A bit like a notebook, yes."

"Oh? I'm supposed to write things down in a notebook, but I forget to do it."

"Please hold still a moment."

"Mm?"

I put it around her neck, something which momentarily causes her to focus on it. Connect, turn it on, make sure that the pickup is working… Good.

I step back. "Missus Monetti, do you know who I am?"

"Ah…" Her eyes fix on me, instead of sliding off. "I'm sorry, I don't think I do?"

"Orange Lantern, ma'am. I'm tutoring your granddaughter."

"My grand-? Oh, Toni! Yes. Is she getting bad grades?"

"'Tutoring' as in 'training her to be a superhero'."

She frowns. "A superhero? Wouldn't she have to-? Oh, yes, she showed me. The-. The silver skin, and the glowing… Glowing stuff."

"Quite right, Missus Monetti."

She puts her right hand on the necklace. "This isn't-. You put this on me."

"Yes, it's-."

"It's a notebook. I'm… Remembering."

"Technically, you're only remembering things as well as you did before. You just don't forget them once you have."

"So I can do things and I won't forget?"

"Yes. Which… I'm afraid means that you'll have to wear it when you sleep."

She nods slowly. "And… What happens if I don't?"

"The device can maintain the memories it stores without continual contact. You'll just be.. confused, until you put it back on. The problem would be if you don't remember to put it on."

She nods again. "Okay." She slides her right hand along the metal. "Is this..? Something I don't remember? Does everyone have these now?"

"No, it's undergoing trials. Your son is helping me get regulatory approval for it."

"My son… Tony." She staggers, and I reach out to steady her just a little faster than Derek does.

"Ma'am?" / "Missus Monetti?"

"Oh, I'm alright. I just-." She takes a moment to steady herself. "I think I just saw a lot of my memories of Tony all at once. I needed a moment to sort them all out in my head."

I nod, pulling my hands back as she doesn't relapse. Derek does likewise, though he's watching her like a hawk.

"Alright. That's… Not something that I've seen before. Please let me know if you have any similar events when you remember other things."

"Are there any exercises I need to do to get the most out of this?"

"I suggest going though your old photo albums. The more the Eye Drive picks up while you remember it, the more you'll be able to remember it."

She nods. "Do you have to rush off? I'm sure Derek has heard everything about me a dozen times before, even if I hardly remember it."

I smile. "No. Not at all."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th October 2013
10:01 GMT -5

Daniel Grayfeld offers me his hand as I walk into the Hall of Justice meeting room where he's been situated, and I give it a quick shake as I sit down. He's an independent journalist whose work mostly focuses on the medical industry, and Catherine's of the opinion that his focus means that he's least likely to drift into territory that she doesn't want me to talk about.

It occurred to me about halfway through our preparation session that she doesn't actually have any authority to order me to do anything… And then I remembered that the whole reason why I'm a superhero is to make things better and not merely stop them getting worse, and if I've somehow beaten every medical researcher on the planet in making something…

Making something that, had it existed earlier would have meant that the last thing I remember my Nan saying wasn't that she was afraid of wetting herself…

Then I'm doing what I set out to. Plenty of people can arrest criminals or build cities, but apparently I was the only one who could build this.

"So… Ah… What did you want to know?"

"Everything." I feel a little disappointed about the lack of a notepad, but he's got a tablet for reminding him what he wants to ask, and it's also recording everything I say. "This is the biggest breakthrough in the treatment of.. memory loss, ever. And I haven't found anything in your background that tells me that you're a doctor or a medical researcher."

Behind me, Catherine insinuates herself into the room.

"I'm not. Honestly, it didn't even occur to me that it could be used in that way."

Mr. Grayfeld frowns. "So… Why did you design it?"

"My team had a fight with a telepath who removed several months worth of memories. Afterwards, I put some time into finding a way to prevent that happening again. I'm… Very, very excited about the medical purposes it's going to be put to, but… I'm afraid that wasn't why I built it."

"I… Huh."

"Uh…"

"Oh-. Sorry, I'm a little surprised is all. You didn't think..? A device that can stop people forgetting things might have other applications?"

"I can be a bit… Single-minded. Particularly early in my career. The Justice League has contacts in various industries in case we encounter or create a device that might have applications outside of law enforcement, so I… Handed the design over in case… Well, in case something like this was possible. I only found out that they'd made any progress a couple of days ago, but I… I couldn't be happier about it."

"Do you do a lot of work with cybernetics? Or other medical fields?"

"Cybernetics? No, not really. I've built a few different forms of power armour, and that-. There's a lot of crossover there, but with cybernetics most people want something more closely resembling a natural limb, and I've never worked on organ-replacements." Wait a moment. "Oh-. No, that's not true. I did some work reverse-engineering some of Doctor Morrow's androids. The biggest thing there was the synthetic skin, which-."

He stares at me. "You were on the team that created Faux Skin?"

"Ah… Not exactly? Like I said, Doctor Morrow was the one who created it, but it's a lot easier to work out how something works when you've got a power ring scan of its structure."

"It's… Kind of a big deal. I know that Doctor's Morrow's work is being used in prosthetics, but there are a lot of different prosthetics manufacturers. Faux Skin is years ahead of any equivalent on the market today."

Oh.

"Oh. I… Wasn't really aware of that."

"Were you involved in the purple ray studies, too?"

"Yes."

He blinks. "Seriously?"

"I persuaded Princess Diana to authorise it, I've used them a great deal myself, and Doctor Beautia Sivana is a friend of mine. Ah. I'm not good at doing original research myself, but it seems I've got a knack for getting involved in some surprisingly useful research."

"Any other relevant research you've been involved in?"

"Dolmen gates, which are being used to maintain shipments of medicine after the collapse of global transportation. Uh. I was trying to get Atlantean biomancers work on the surface, but that's… Uh. Fallen through a bit, with one thing and another."

"Okay, I… Think the whole sector's been.. kind of asleep on you."

"I think the original researchers should be the focus. I didn't even design the parts of the Eye Drive. And… I think the whole sector's been asleep on a lot of strange but extremely useful technologies. Atlanteans have been able to grow body parts back for longer than we've had germ theory, but even when they started getting into sporadic contact with the surface no one on either side thought about taking advantage of that."

Mr. Grayfeld nods, pressing his tablet screen.

"Okay, okay, ah… Roughly how long did making your first 'Eye Drive' take?"

"Depends… What counts as working on it. Once I actually found the parts actually putting it together only took… About half an hour? Make it an hour if you include testing."

"And when was this fateful hour?"

"Twenty-third of November, Twenty Ten."

He raises his eyebrows. "Three years ago?"

I nod. "Nearly, yes."

"And they're only starting field trials now?"

"So I'm told."

"And..? You're sure that it's effective?"

Derek told me that Mrs. Moretti Senior was the most coherent he's seen her… But that was me breaking the law.

"As I said, I didn't design it specifically to deal with the symptoms of Alzheimer's disease. But based on what I know about the disease, it should work as the people running the trials hope."

He keeps frowning.

"Ah. Is there an issue?"

"I'm… Just a little surprised, is all."

I nod, smiling. "Me too."

"I mean… There's not-. Alzheimer's was well behind cancer in terms of investment, but there should still have been enough money to incentivise someone to do a trial before now. The Justice League's research agreements usually… Make things like this more prominent."

"Oh? My experience is that stuff like this is left to moulder indefinitely. Did you see that talk I did a couple of years ago-?"

He nods. "Where you talked about how long Earth had had teleporters? I watched a recording before I came here."

"Well… There you go. If you say it's odd then I'll take your word for it, but honestly… I'm just glad to have been able to make a difference at all."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th April 2258
Late at night

"Hahahahaha!"

I don't usually walk arm in arm with people, but I offered Mayan my right arm because I was honestly concerned that she might fall over if I didn't.

"Because he's-. He's sitting on the wheel… On the pole!"

Given how minbari humour works, I suspected that there was some overlap between things that humans find funny and things that minbari find funny. I just wasn't quite sure where it was.

"And-. And-. And then.. the lion tries to eat him!"

We're getting some funny looks. Not… Hostile… I think… But the minbari around us are trying to work out what's going on with her and me and they're coming up with nothing.

I pat her hand. "I'm glad that you like it."

She nods, calming down a little. "Was the author prolific?"

"Yes, though I don't think that the others… I don't think you'd find them as funny."

Though maybe the bit in The Fifth Elephant where Cheery admits that she used Dee's emotional vulnerability to perform an interrogation… I don't know. I don't think I have a handle on exactly how minbari humour actually-.

"Do minbari have comedians?"

"I don't think that we have them in quite the same way that you do. We have actors for perform comedic roles and poets who compose comedic verse, but I have watched recordings of human observational comedy and I did not understand it."

"Do you do comedic verse?"

"I… Have written such things, but not for some time. They are usually considered… Low brow. I wrote mine while I was a student… And most of them were intended to mock my fellow students."

"And your teacher?"

"I do not believe that she ever wrote comedic verse. Her main theme was shapes and organisations fit together."

I lean a little closer. "I mean, did you ever write something comedic about her."

She suddenly looks serious. Affronted, even. "Certainly not."

Hm…

Minbar guests, lend me your knowledge of linguistics.

Very well. I am curious as to what you devise.

Ah, there we are. Doesn't quite work in English, but in her language…

"The three meet,
The soldier, with a scroll,
The scribe, with a hammer,
The labourer, with a sword
Somewhere, something has gone 'boing'."

Mayan cringes, her right hand covering her mouth. "That-. Is terrible, and you should never repeat it."

And then-. Is she hyperventilating? Was it that bad?

No, that was actually pretty funny. The other minbari in here are busy laughing. I actually knew Shaal Mayan's teacher and she would have hated what you just did. The poetess is just experiencing vicarious satisfaction from your mockery of her instructor, and it is making her uncomfortable.

Okay, thank you for your reassurance.

If you could have presented it to her in person, I would consider that the end of my unfinished business.

You were willing to come back from the dead just to blow a raspberry in her face? I think the next poem might be about you.

Good! I was a comedic actor. And I will not leave your head until I have expanded my range.

Shouldn't be a problem.

"So… What sort of poetry do you do?"

"I have turned my hand to almost every form of poetry practiced amongst the minbari. Currently, I am studying the similarities in themes between species. In particular, how they express the emotion of love."

"Ah. Zamaron."

"What is 'Zamaron'?"

"The species who make these rings don't have a name for themselves. Rather, each of their… Political parties have their own names. The ones who consider love to be the primary driving emotion are called Zamarons."

"Do they also hand out rings such as yours to representatives of younger species?"

"Yeah… But… Are you married?"

"I am not. Is that a requirement?"

"They prefer to recruit widows, so… Usually."

She nods as we reach the viewing platform which provided the best view of the Basilica. At this time of night there are only a couple of other people around, and from the looks of it they're… Just finishing some sort of meditation.

"And which emotion do your sponsors consider to be the most significant?"

"They're agnostic. They'll take whatever gives them control over things. But what they got…" I raise my right fist slightly. "Are rings fuelled by avarice. 'What do you want?'"

"That seems… Self-absorbed."

"Yes, of course. But consider me. I want the ring to keep working more than anything else. So I make a deal with a bunch of dead people. If you take a deal it's because you value what you get more than what you give up, and in my case hundreds of people thought it was worth it. We don't love each other, but we're all getting what we want out of it. Members of dozens of species cooperating towards a greater end."

"You do not value love?"

"Everyone I love died two hundred years ago. I'm… Not good at creating or maintaining attachments like that. I think I'll start with a small group of friends first."

The last meditator picks up his mat and heads off.

Right.

Zeen Mataan, are you ready?

I have been ready for centuries.

Scan.

I three-dimensional image of the Basilica appears in my mind, and I get the impression that it's appeared in Mataan's as well.

What have they-!? Ugh, modernisation.

I thought we were just finishing the outside?

We are, it's just… I should have considered it. I designed the interior with the latest in interior design in mind, but things have changed.

We can come back.

No… No. This is what you have sworn to do. Let us begin.

And quickly.

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th October 2013
10:01 GMT -5

Cadbury has lawyers, obviously. But they specialise in commercial law. There's a law firm we use when we need to do something larger, but they don't really do American medical law either, and it would be… Alright, as a sole proprietor, there's literally nothing I can't do with company assets because they're legally my assets, but it would still feel off using them for something not related to the business.

But fortunately, the Justice League has a lawyer. Ah-. I mean, the Justice League has multiple law firms who handle things for them pro bono, on the grounds that doing stuff for the Justice League is just about the best advertising money can't buy, but it has one lawyer who's a member. And if Augustus Freeman can get Xalitan a slap on the wrist after a town got levelled and several American soldiers got medical discharges, he can probably help me out with my problem.

His secretary looks up from her desk. "Mister Freeman will see you now."

I smile at her. "Thank you."

I get up and head for his office. Since he has a secret identity, Arnus has to actually live that identity at least some of the time. Right after the Life Broadcast he didn't bother because there wasn't a lot of call for lawyers, but once Dakota City's government started sort of working again they did actually need lawyers to help reorganise things. We can still call on him for essential purposes, but he's effectively back on normal working hours.

I push open his office door, and he comes over to greet me.

"Orange Lantern."

"Mister Freeman. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me at such short notice."

We shake hands, and he directs me to the seat in front of his desk before retaking his own seat. "You said that your problem relates to your Alzheimer's treatment."

"Yes. Well, sort of. I've encountered a lot of highly advanced technologies during my time on this Earth that should have spread but haven't. For example, did you know that the first cybernetic hand on Earth was created by a man named Ramon Solomano in nineteen thirty nine?"

He raises his eyebrows slightly. "I did not."

He might be telling the truth; I'll have to ask later. Yes, he was obviously in America during that time but it's not like he'd have had any reason to meet a minor Arizonan supervillain.

I nod. "No microchips or vacuum tubes. It relied on piezoelectric reactions to electrical current in the nerves in the stump, which was magnified by an acid battery to move the pistons. Amazing work, for the time. And then you've got zeta tubes, purple healing rays…"

"I recall your speech."

"And then there's my… Device."

"Are you concerned that it will be delayed due to it requiring F.D.A. approval?"

"It… Okay, this is… Weird superhero stuff-" That he knows about, but I'm playing along. "-but there's a certain amount of evidence that the reason why those devices aren't more widely used is the active opposition of a entity called Boss Smiley. We're not exactly sure what he is, but he appears to have the ability to have a small effect on the minds of large populations all at once, and he claims to have been using it to ensure that human civilisation remains within certain controllable bounds. I don't really mind it if the F.D.A. has some paperwork to work through… If they take too long I can just sell it as a personal organiser that helps forgetful people, and if people choose to buy it for people suffering from Alzheimer's… It's like 'massage wands'."

I actually do the air quotes.

"They don't provide a warranty for anything else and places that sell them don't get regulated as sex shops, but everyone knows what people actually do with them."

"I would advise against that."

"But am I legally right? I genuinely don't know."

"Every cybernetic device I know of that is commercially available in the United States has F.D.A. approval. I would not want to argue that your device is an exception."

"But could you?"

"Perhaps. But I feel that if I won it would be due more to the poor state of the F.D.A. rather than my being correct in law."

"Okay, let's… Not do that."

"So what is it that you want?"

I look him in the eye, but the git doesn't even crack a little smile.

"I want to check that it is just a bureaucratic problem, not something exotic. Which means that I actually need a lawyer able to advocate for my work with the relevant committee, or however it works in practice. And preferably one who can deal with unconventional skulduggery."

"I'm afraid that medical law isn't my specialty. Nor is lobbying."

"Alright. Can you recommend someone?"

"Frederick Tuckman is an experienced lobbyist. I am uncertain how familiar he is with the arcane, but his firm also serves as Lex Luthor's defence attorneys."

I nod. "So there's a degree of familiarity there."

"I couldn't possibly comment."

"Are there any alternatives?"

"Almost certainly. But he is the only one I am familiar with."

"Alright, I'll get in touch with him. Thank you-."

"Have you considered a non-legal solution?"

I blink. "Are you allowed to suggest that?"

"You raised the prospect of bypassing the F.D.A.. I am merely suggesting that if you are concerned about a third party interfering with the approval process, you could provide them with a defense against external influences yourself. I believe that you have a device which protects the wearer from magic?"

"Yes, and that… Could work. It couldn't hurt, at least. And… I should talk to the people involved anyway."

And I don't… Think anyone bothered building a planar barrier in Washington. Might not work, but it won't make things worse and it might help.

"Anything else I've overlooked?"

"Have you considered seeking approval for the device in countries other than America?"

"No. At this point, most of my contacts are here. And my understanding is that America's requirements are less strenuous than European ones."

"There is no need to limit yourself to seeking approval in just one country at a time. If you could find partners who could oversee the approval process, you may be able to bring it to the market more rapidly."

"That's a good point." The former High Conciliator should be able to organise things in Britain if nothing else. It would probably be a good idea to talk to her anyway. Maybe there's a market off-world? "I'll make a start once I've booked a meeting with Mister Tuckman. Thank you very much for your help."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th April 2258
09:33 G.M.T. +1

Mayan and I walk down a busy street in Geneva, which has somehow become Earth's capital. How it beat New York or Brussels I don't know, but I can see 'Earth Dome' from here. There are a few aliens around, mostly embassy staff, but virtually the entire population is human.

And anyone interested in our location could work it out from the way sound stops when they see Mayan.

I think. I mean, it could be me but there isn't anything about me that would cause me to stand out. Other than her, there aren't any minbari on the street. In fact, I don't think there's actually a minbari embassy on the planet. The centauri and narns each have an embassy, as well as several species from the League of Non-Aligned worlds. I'm not… Actually sure what the split in responsibilities between embassies here and the ones on Babylon 5 is… I suppose that the ones here handle direct communication with the Alliance's government? And help their citizens negotiate Earth civilisation?

"Do you think maybe it would have been a better idea to wait a generation?"

"Someone must be the first to extend a hand."

I frown. "Are minbari like centauri, where you don't have major blood vessels in your wrists?"

"We are not."

"Then don't extend anything you're not going to get back."

She looks around slightly nervously. "I had thought that the reception here would be… Better."

"A-." I frown hard at me. "Why?"

"Because the war is over, and has been over for ten years."

"You know humans can live for a hundred years, right? Ten years is definitely not a lifetime. I doubt that anyone here has had an interaction with a minbari that wasn't shooting at them."

She draws herself up slightly. "Then I will be the first."

"Okay, so how about we ease into-"

She turns hard left and walks into a café.

"-it gradually-?"

I dash after her, the door barely having the chance to ring closed. A sound I can hear very easily, because the Zone of Silence has followed us from the street and is now spreading across the café as the occupants look up to find out why everyone's stopped making noise.

Okay, we're near the centre of the capital. This is an expensive place to live, so I doubt that she's about to out me by needing me to defend her from a mob.

Perhaps she would learn something from the experience.

And you wouldn't enjoy it at all, Kral'nag?

I would enjoy it immensely. But it would be better to be shattered into a thousand pieces rather than forced to live in the vorlon's crystal stasis. There were minbari who saw it our way.

Mayan is still standing there, just taking in the glares. I think she's genuinely surprised, though I'm not at all sure why. I walk up to her, smile and nod at the audience, grab her around the waist and lever her into a nearby chair.

She stares at me in shock as I sit down opposite her, and then looks down and wriggles herself to defray stress.

I lean a little closer. "Sorry if that violates propriety-"

Her head comes back up. "Yes. It did."

"-but you were making yourself a target. And I really hope that you have a better plan than this."

"Yes, I have reached out to human writers at the University of Zurich. I will be holding a seminar in two days." I wince. "I did not think that the response to my presence would be so widespread."

"So, you know how well the narns and centauri get along?"

"The minbari never occupied human worlds."

"And the centauri never actually tried to exterminate the narns. Now, I wasn't here for that whole thing so I'm not as emotionally invested in it as they are, but you must understand where they're coming from."

"But how can our peoples know peace if we cannot talk to each other?"

I smile.

"Are you familiar with the human concept of a Catch Twenty-Two situation?"

"I.. am not."

"In the novel 'Catch Twenty-Two', the protagonist wants to stop flying bombing missions, so he feigns mental incapacity in the hope that he'll be removed from the duty. The problem is that his commanders are perfectly aware that no sane person would want to fly those missions. Therefore, if he's mad, he's perfectly qualified, and if he's sane, they've got no reason to remove him anyway."

Her brow hardens as she tries to make sense of that.

"That makes no sense."

I nod. "Yes. In this situation, it would be… We want peace. To get peace, we need to talk to people. Until we are at peace, we cannot talk. Therefore..."

Her brow smoothes. "We will never have peace."

I grin, sitting back and throw my arms up. "Bingo!"

"I cannot accept that."

"Then this will either be a learning experience, or a comedy experience. Though since someone is going to ask… It doesn't matter to me, you understand, but-."

"Ten years ago I was poet in residence at the Thanan monastery. I considered the war with your people to be regrettable-." I wince, and she stops. "Did I misspeak?"

"If that's genuinely how you felt about it, no. You're still speaking a minbari language, right?"

"No, I am speaking English. Is that not the main human language?"

"Sometimes it's better if people can't understand you. Ah. For future reference, most humans consider 'regrettable' to be an insufficient adjective for the extermination of any species, especially ours. We don't even really like that the dilgar got wiped out, and we were the ones who wiped them out!"

She stare at me in incomprehension.

"Seriously, check out our discussion forums. The prevailing view is that while their entire leadership class deserved to get fed feet-first in to a wood chipper, most of their people didn't really have any decision-making power and if evacuating them had been at all practical we should have done it."

"Then what should I have done?"

"Anti-war poetry and music are fairly common in human society. Siegfried Sassoon is the poet who comes immediately to mind, but my poetry studies stopped at sixteen. Public protests against government actions are also common. If you could honestly say that you'd made some noise and been imprisoned or otherwise punished, you'd find that the crowd would warm up considerably. 'Oh dear, oh well' will not go down well."

She makes a… Sort of shaking, neck-snaking gesture. "Minbari do not protest our government."

"Yes, I know, strict hierarchy, need to know and obedience. And… To a degree, in some circumstances, humans would accept that for a soldier. But not for a poet."

"I do not believe-"

The door chime rings, and I glance around.

Black uniform, Psi Corps insignia.

Looking at me.

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th April 2258
09:37 G.M.T. +1

An Asian man and a Nordic woman, both immaculately groomed with their hair locked in place.

"-that any protest I could have made would have changed anything."

I turn back to Mayan. "You're almost certainly right, but we'd have appreciated you trying. It would have showed that you were against it in a way that would actually have cost you something, and thus seemed genuine."

I hear the footsteps as the Psi Cops come closer.

"Why would that matter for building a relationship now?"

"Trust requires dependability. Being angry because your head of state dies makes perfect sense, though I will emphasise that the Earth Alliance has a president who at any given time will be unpopular with at least half of the population and if he dies it's really not that big a deal." She looks mildly appalled. "Launching a jihad to destroy the species responsible seems like a massive overreaction, even if he was a really great guy. That makes no sense to us."

"But surely the government of the Earth Alliance would respond if your president was murdered?"

"Yes. We'd want the guilty parties handed over for trial. If the guilty party refused without a very good reason we might retaliate, or declare war, but I can't think of a situation where the goal would be to exterminate their species. And then… Stopping. You given any thought to Beard Theory?"

"I do not think it would be enough to convince our leaders."

"Then ten years later we've got no idea why the Minbari Federation called it off. It's like sitting next to an old sea mine; we've got no idea what might set you off and no idea how to defuse you."

"'Beard Theory'?"

The male Psi Cop walks into my line of sight, a disarmingly friendly and curious expression on his face.

I smile back, nodding. "A tiny fraction of the male minbari-" Mayan gives the Psi Cop a look of profound disquiet. "-can grow beards, and the genetic sequences which make it possible are identical to the ones in humans. Minbari have a huge stigma against killing other minbari. My working theory is that someone working for the minbari government did a genetic analysis, realised that we have that in common, and called things off due to killing us now counting for their taboo against killing other minbari."

"Humans have a taboo against killing, too."

"Four hundred thousand murders on Earth last year alone. Do you know how many Minbar had?" He shakes his head. "Zero. You have to go back forty years before you can find one, and that was probably an accident, and the perpetrator appears to have killed himself immediately after checking that his victim was actually dead."

He considers that for a moment. "Is the beard thing widely known about?"

"No. But from what I've been told-" I gesture to Mayan, who is looking increasingly awkward. "-it would be unusual for the minbari government to actually tell people who didn't strictly need to know. The war would just be called off, and everyone would be expected to go along with it."

"I prefer to think-" Mayan is low-key glaring at me. "-that otherwise reasonable minbari came to regret the rash decisions they had taken in anger."

The Psi Cop smiles at her. "But.. this is something minbari might do?" He raises his eyebrow. "For real?"

"It is not… Wholly impossible. But as Matthew says, if it was so, that information would not have been shared. I would not know."

"'Beard Theory'. Hm." He nods to himself. "You should post that on the conspiracy boards, see what they make of it."

"I have enough crazy in my life, thank you." I glance at his partner, who is… Completely stone-faced. "Can I.. get you and your partner a coffee.?

His face goes back into 'polite professional' immediately. "Thank you, but no. We were hoping that you wouldn't mind answering a few questions for us."

"Am I under arrest?"

"No, sir."

"Then… Sure, you can ask. Would you like to sit down?"

He smiles, nods, and sits down next to Mayan. I half turn to look at his colleague. "Ah, your partner?"

He shakes his head and waves his right hand dismissively. "She's fine."

I frown, then shrug. From my reading, it seems like telepaths have a harder time keeping the thoughts of the people around them out of their heads when they're in close physical proximity. Maybe she has a headache?

"Right, well, what do you want to talk about?"

"We still have an investigation open on the disappearance of our colleague, Lyta Alexander. I understand that you spoke with her on the day she vanished?"

I nod. "Yes, that's correct. I… Already spoke to Babylon Five security about it… Are they not sharing?"

"No, they…" He shrugs. "They are, but she was our colleague. We all went to the same training schools… We just want to dot out Is and cross our Ts."

I frown. "Ah, sorry, this is probably a stupid question, but why would a P-Five go to Psi Cop training school? I thought you all had to be P-Twelve?"

"We do, but the initial training to control our abilities is the same."

"Ah." I nod. "Right."

"When you first met, did she seem agitated to you?"

I nod firmly. "Yes."

"Did she say 'why'?"

"She told me that she wasn't happy about being called back to Earth. I don't know if it was the inconvenience, or the fact that she resented being used for intelligence gathering…"

I raise my eyebrows slightly, and-. He shakes his head.

"Most species have minds that work within certain bounds. The more similar to ours they are, the less… Difficult it is making contact with them. I can read a centauri's mind -or…" He smiles at Mayan. "With beards or not, a minbari's mind- far more easily than I can a gaim's. We don't have any records for what happens when a human mind makes contact with a vorlon mind. We just wanted to be completely certain that there weren't any negative health consequences for her. And… When it comes to things that affect the mind, it's… It can't be voluntary, because when something goes wrong, it affects the telepath's judgement. It's a little uncomfortable, but it's better than getting a brain haemorrhage and not finding out about it until it's too late."

"Ah." Yes, that would make sense.

Anyone want it weigh in?

Plausible. / If it was standard procedure, why didn't the station personnel put her on the shuttle? / I think it's nice that they care about her.

The Psi Cop behind me takes a step backwards. The one-.

"I'm.. sorry, dreadfully rude of me. You obviously know who I am, but I didn't ask your name?"

"No, I-" He shakes his head. "-should have introduced myself. Zhang Li. And you're Matthew Underwood, and, ah..?"

He glances at Mayan.

She inclines her head. "Shaal Mayan."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." He turns back to me. "Mister Underwood, it would help us a great deal if you would allow us to view your memories of your encounter with Miss Alexander. Anything at all that's… Still in your mind that you don't necessarily consciously recall, might give us a vital clue about her current location."

"Ah…" I shrug. "I don't have a problem with that, but I'll need you to sign a liability waver first."

He blinks. "Excuse me?"

"When I first met her, she did a light scan…" I raise my hands. "Not a problem, perfectly legitimate, a strange man walks up to you…" He nods. "Apparently, there's something about my mind that's very uncomfortable? Now, it might be that it affected her because she's only a P-Five… Or it might be that it scales with telepathic power, in which case, as a P-Twelve, it would be worse for you. And I don't want you to get a brain haemorrhage either. And I certainly don't want to be legally liable for it."

He nods slowly. "I'll need to talk to our lawyers, but I'm sure we can work something out. How long are you staying on Earth?"

I gesture to Mayan. "Mayan is doing a talk in a few days at the University of Zurich, so at least that long. After that, I don't really have any plans, but I've got a mail box on Babylon Five if you can't get hold of me."

"I'm sure I can get in touch before then." He stands, nodding to Mayan. "Enjoy your stay on Earth."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th October 2013
10:19 GMT -5

Mr. Tuckman steps out of his office, sees me, sighs, and then turns to his secretary. "Jeanette, clear my schedule for the next hour."

"Certainly. Reschedule?"

"Ah… It's not that big a deal. See if you can get one of the Associates to take it."

"Certainly, Mister Tuckman."

"If the client won't accept that…" He leans over her shoulder to examine his diary. "Next Wednesday?"

"Of course."

"Right." He turns away and walks towards me. "Freeman told me you were coming."

I stand, raising my left eyebrow. "You don't have to sound quite so much like a condemned man on his way to the scaffold."

"No. I don't. What is it you want?"

"I want to make sure that there aren't any shenanigans in-"

He splutter-laughs.

"-volved-. What?"

"This is Washington, Orange Lantern. 'Shenanigans' are how it works."

I frown. "Even now?"

"Not as much, because there's not as much money moving around. Bribery is a buyer's market right now."

"Not as many pork barrels to dole out."

"It's more that the League's checking the accounts."

I nod. "I heard about the arrest."

Because with the League's funding being the thing keeping governments worldwide going, normal 'you can't arrest us' laws have stopped applying. The rest of them don't want the money to get cut off, which is what would happen if they made a fuss. Senator Leahy probably wasn't doing anything that wasn't business as usual, really, but no one wanted to stick their neck out for him during a crisis like this.

That situation isn't going to last much longer… Or maybe it will? Tax income is going to be well down from what it was, even after the Sheeda Incursion. The legislation that Congress was encouraged to pass before they received Justice League money would still be in place… Would it? There wouldn't be much appetite in the country for removing it, but would that stop them?

"Look, I'm just trying to do away with the symptoms of Alzheimer's. The device isn't even all that expensive. I'd like to retain the services of your firm in overseeing the approvals process."

"Is it a drug?"

I shake my head. "A wearable device. Technically it's a cybernetic, but nothing gets implanted. It backs up a person's memory to bypass the failing parts of the subject's brain."

"Okay. Is someone already championing it, or do I have to start from nothing?"

"Senator Monetti got it to the starting gate."

"Monetti? Darn, he's usually one of the easy ones to get on board."

"Oh? I don't know the man all that well. Is he interested in the medical industry?"

"When they're donating to his political action committee."

"Ah. More so than usual?"

"Most representatives look out for companies in their constituency first. That's kind of their job. Monetti isn't so fussy. He'd advocated for just about anyone."

"This is going to make me ill, isn't it?"

"I don't see why it would. Corporations aren't politically biased. They donate to both side of the aisle, so I figure it cancels out. And all the PAC donations are a matter of public record. It's the non-financial stuff that used to bother me."

"Pledging support on things that don't affect their core interests in return for reciprocity?"

"Some of the time."

I snort. "And to think, this is the body I was concerned that the Justice League would replace."

He blinks, craning his neck a little towards me. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, it-. I was concerned that with the League doing more things without reference to the government, Capital Hill would gradually lose authority. Thank you for curing those worries."

He frowns in nervous curiosity. "How would that even work?"

"Ah… I don't think there's a plan for that, but it would probably… Start with magically binding oaths of office, minutes for all meetings with lobbyists…" Huh. "You know, there's a type of demon you can bind to a menhir who will teleport to anyone who breaks the law within the city and then stab them to death. Ah, insider trading would be illegal for politicians, obviously-."

"I'm sorry, can we go back to the demons?"

"No theft or violence, without fear or favour. There are some negative side effects too, but the ritual's not exactly well known and it's probably not fully optimised. Ah, the rationalisation of America's alphabet agencies, investigations of historic corruption of all public offices…"

I shrug.

"Not sure about the second week. Maybe throw a rugby ball around?"

Mr. Tuckman takes a few moments to absorb that.

"Ooh! We could replace the supreme court with an elemental of pure law bound to the constitution! No more political influence at all. It wouldn't even have to be sentient. But that's-" I shake my head. "-probably a terrible idea."

"Okay. So-. Okay. Do you know why Senator Monetti got behind this?"

"His mother has Alzheimer's. Presumably in the early stages. And I'm training his daughter."

"Training..?"

"As a superhero." He frowns. "She doesn't have a secret identity; her skin's silver and she's been using her powers publically for months."

"Okay. How involved do you want to be in this whole thing?"

"As much as I need to be. Though… Maybe I should stick around and put the fear of God into the federal government? If the corruption is as bad as you're implying. It's a worthwhile use of my time."

"Are you..? Asking me?"

"Yes?"

"You do know I work for Lex Luthor?"

"Yes, I spoke to him before coming here. You were highly recommended. Just think of all the money you'll be saving him in donations if I'm successful."

"That wasn't-. Yeah, okay. Okay, my first suggestion is that you talk to Missus Monetti, maybe get her to do a publicity piece about how it's changed her life. Personal testimony to newspapers from someone suffering from a common condition is hard to beat in terms of good P.R.. And I'll… Get started on the rest."

"I'll do that. Thank you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th April 2258
10:38 G.M.T. +1

This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, this is a bad idea.

It will be a critical learning experience.

Kral'nag, there's a good chance that someone is going to try to kill her.

If they fail, it will be a learning experience for her. If they succeed, it will be one for you.

I look across the campus as more people with various anti-alien banners gather in the campus square. There are police around, but nothing like enough to actually contain a riot.

What do you suggest, then?

Remove her to your ship.

While the idea does have a certain appeal, I don't mind doing a little extra work if it makes her happy.

Just change what makes her happy.

I open my eyes to the crowd's desires, marking those whose drive for violence is a little sharper.

That's quite difficult. I'm not even familiar enough with the human brain to do that to a member of my own species. Alien brains are far harder.

My people could help with that. You would need to make a show of strength to convince them of your worth, but we have employed both willing and unwilling agents amongst other species before.

That would defeat the object.

Your lust for her is clear to all of us. She will never consent to mate with you as she is now. You are stronger. Take what you want.

If I wanted a sex doll then I'd buy one. Or build one. It's a big universe, and I've only known her for a few days. There are plenty of human-compatible women out there. What do drakh females look like?

Our mating requires telepathy. And while it is not inconceivable that one of us would mate with you, as you are now… No. Not until you have grown closer to the Black Sun.

They look like armour plated narns. It would chafe.

Heathen.

I glance back towards the lecture hall. Mayan is talking to the university officials… Double check… Yes, no hostile desires I can see. But I wasn't expecting them to be-.

Hm. Check the faces of the protestors against the faces of enrolled university students… Basically no overlap. Not too surprised there. Alright, so the people taking the lecture will be students, staff, or people who've received an invitation. Few points of ingress, and they're guarded. I'll be monitoring the whole place while she's talking, but the security isn't… Terrible, as far as my inexpert eyes can tell.

I turn back to the crowd… The ones I marked are grouping together. There's a terrorist group called Homeguard who have been carrying out attacks on aliens in human-controlled space, which is… Stupid. Most human colonies are relatively small and have populations which are completely human. Aliens only live in significant numbers in major cities on Earth, and one or two other places. I mean, I get why people hate minbari, but we've actually had pretty good relationships with everyone except them and the vree.

Perhaps I should just ask them?

You could just change their minds.

Yes, that's the-. No, I'm not mind controlling them.

Thralls are much easier to deal with. Most drakh are thralls.

Really?

What proportion of your species really need to be capable of higher reasoning?

The more people working at cross-purposes, the more chaos, the more chance of randomly generating good ideas and useful methodologies.

Drakh value strife and tests of strength, we don't seek to become a chaotic mess.

Well, no. Your ideas and our ideas will compete, and someone will win. If we were all the same, we'd both be working for the vorlons.

...

He just threw up.

Ew-! Guys-. No throwing up in my brain!

Alright, eurgh. Move.

I appear close to the prospective shooters, just out of line of sight. Given that I'm basically invincible to anything they might be able to do, this isn't a test of my courage, just my social anxiety.

I step out of cover with a broad smile. "Excuse me, gentlemen!"

I get a brief glance, and then the man with short-cropped brown hair nods towards a stand. "You can get a banner from Pierre."

"I'm not here for a banner. I'd like you to explain to me what this is about."

They're giving me a slightly more serious looks now. "You from the university?"

"No. The past. I've essentially been in suspended animation for two hundred years. This whole thing-" I gesture to the protest. "-means as much to me as the Gulf War does to you. You three appear to be the organisers, so I imagine you'd be able to explain it to me best."

The slightly older man frown. "Did they have-? Cryo, two hundred years ago?"

"My best guess is it was the vree, so I'm not, like, wholly hostile to this? But I would like a better understanding of… What this particular movement involves..?"

The younger one squints at me. "Gulf..? War..?"

"Ah… Short version. Iraq invaded Kuwait, overran it, then got most of its army killed when the United States took exception and counter-invaded. In military terms it was fairly simple, but between the botched peace settlement which basically solved nothing and Iraq's dictator really not appreciating how weak his position was and constantly pissing off everyone around him, it pretty much inevitably lead to the Second Gulf War."

He looks blank. Right, a random war from two hundred years ago would mean about as much to him as… Uh… Right.

Short hair nods. "Alright. Ten years ago a species of insane murderers tried to wipe out our species because they attacked a diplomatic mission. Before that, we got stuck defending a bunch of worlds from an enemy they could have easily beat if they didn't have their heads up their asses. And now the homeworld of humanity has aliens living here, owning parts of our world and voting in our elections. And they wouldn't reciprocate even if we actually wanted them too. Minbari are psychos, centauri would try and conquer us if their government wasn't drunk off its ass, narns are savages and-. You aren't the only guy the vree kidnapped. Humanity should close its boarders, industrialise its colonies, and strengthen its military. It should not have bases all across the League of Non-Functional Worlds, trade agreements to get things we should be making ourselves or trying to set up some kind of… 'Space U.N.', that no one takes seriously." He shakes his head. "When three space stations blow up and the fourth one just vanishes into thin space, God is trying to tell you something."

"What about trading for things we can't make ourselves? The primary weapons-."

"We tried buying artificial gravity once. Paid through the nose, and then our best scientists couldn't make sense of it. Billions of credits completely wasted. If it's technology, we should learn to do it for ourselves. If it's raw materials, we should mine it for ourselves. The weapons we bought from the narns during the war? Yeah, okay, we were desperate. That's the only time I'd support it. We still got ripped off."

"Alright." I nod. "And what's this protest.. for?"

"We're protesting a minbari poet."

"Okay. Why?"

He shakes his head in mystification. "Because why the fuck is she here? I don't want anyone from the species that tried to exterminate my entire species on my planet. I certainly don't think there's anything in a culture that thinks like they do that we need. And the talks about.. the.. universality of love? Where was that universality ten years ago when they all went nuts? Was she the only one who wasn't mental? I doubt it. No, I think she's here as some sort of psy-op, and it pisses me off."

"Maybe she's just dumb and sheltered?"

"So at best she was still okay with the human race ending? Yeah, that still pisses me off. She shouldn't have got a visa, and they shouldn't be hosting her."

"Okay." I nod. "That's… Very helpful."

"Yeah." He smiles. "We do actually think these things through. And you should think about what I've said."

"I will. Thank you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th April 2258
12:07 G.M.T. +1

The young man who brought a pistol crossbow into the lecture hall looks around in confusion, but the security guards have already spotted him and are walking towards him with tasers in hand. He looks at his weapon, briefly considering whether to try firing it.

I look at the bolt in my hand, then transition it into his pocket for the proctors to find.

Security has already prevented the protestors gaining entry to the venue, and forced them away using some sort of sonic riot suppression device. They're still around, but they're not in easy shouting distance of the lecture theatre any longer.

H-uuuuuh.

Connecting to local surveillance systems… No, he didn't speak to the three suspicious fellows at this meeting. Drive up, took a moment in his car to psych himself up, and then headed in. Good planning or Stand Alone Complex? Don't know.

Scan the campus again... Nothing. Just outside campus…

Ah.

Yes, a pistol crossbow would be unlikely to kill someone immediately, but if Mayan was rushed towards an ambulance coming to the most likely exit…

Transition. And… Phased plasma gun.

Why do you need one?

I don't. But I like the noise they make.

The construct appears in my hand as I point it at the sniper just in front of me, his full attention focused on the lecture theatre's rear entrance.

And it makes the noise.

The sniper twitches, then freezes.

"You know… Last time a human killed a minbari V.I.P., it didn't go very well for our species."

"Y-. You're her escort."

"She's like a pet lemming. Having already saved her once, I'd feel a bit stupid if I let her die now." Scan again… "Ah. I see you have confederates down on the ground. Have to do something about them in a few moments."

"Am I under arrest?"

"Oh, no. I'm trying to decide between handing you over, killing you and just having you disappear. So… What's this supposed to do, exactly?"

"Kill the minbari. Too many humans bled and died to keep them from our world to let them just walk in."

Quick brain scan… Looks like he's being more or less honest, though the situation is pretty stressful so it's not completely reliable.

"So… The two that tried to kill her on Babylon Five. Was that anything to do with you?"

"What? I don't know… Homeguard has people everywhere."

"It just seems like a lot of effort for one poet-. Wait."

Ring, how many minbari are there on Earth?

One minbari detected.

Hm. "The only minbari you could actually reach." I shake my head as he risks looking over his left shoulder to get a look at me. "And then what?"

"What?"

"What does Homeguard think happens if you kill her?" He puts his right hand-. "Remain where you are, please." He freezes. "Hand down." He complies, lowering himself back into a fully prone position. "What happens next?"

"We claim responsibility. Publically."

"You personally, or the organisation?"

"Homeguard."

"And if the Minbari Federation declares war?"

"We've spent a decade arming up! It won't go down like last time!"

It's true, Earthforce had undertaken a massive expansion and upgrade program after the war. The confusingly-named Omega class destroyer is supposed to be able to lock onto minbari warships with its impressive quantity of firepower. I say 'confusingly' because it's really more of a cruiser, or perhaps a battlecruiser. Battlecarrier? It's not intended to escort larger ships but to operate either on its own or in squadrons. It's nothing like as fast, agile, or heavily armoured as the minbari equivalent, has a rotating crew section for centrapedal force rather than having artificial gravity and of course being able to lock on doesn't mean that it's easy or reliable-.

"Do you know why Earthforce didn't just use camera drones for targetting minbari warships during the war?"

He hesitates for a moment.

"What?"

"The coating on minbari ships make it hard to lock onto them. But they're turquoise and don't use painted camouflage or disguise holograms. Spreading a few thousand cheap camera drones throughout a system shouldn't have been that hard, and the fleet could use their optical imaging to target the minbari at range."

"Ah… I dunno?" … "Would-? Would that actually work?"

"Depends how the minbari officers assess threats. Minbari fighters could just destroy them… But my point is that even with an expanded navy, I don't think that our fleet would stand up to theirs much better today than it did then. We don't have any of the key technologies that give them their edge. We'd do better, sure-."

"Is that why you're sucking up to her? Joining the winning side, traitor?!"

"More 'learning how the enemy thinks', because I want human civilisation to be stronger. I'm just realistic about how strong we are right now, and the fact is that the minbari are stronger than us, the centauri are stronger than us, and the narns aren't weaker than us, and randomly attacking poets isn't going to change that. Rallying the base isn't suddenly going to result in us getting artificial gravity, or neutron lasers." Whatever those are. Neutrons aren't photons, but maybe the gun makes them interact? "For now, we need to act nice, smile politely, and generally convince all of our neighbours that we're not a problem and we're not going to be a problem. And while we're smiling and shaking hands and generally being pleasant, we expand, colonise, make advantageous trade treaties while subtly playing our rivals against each other and improving our technological base in whatever way we can. And then when we're actually strong enough, then we assert ourselves. Not before. And not because short-sighed yahoos like you decided to shoot a poet. Do you understand, you short-sighted goob?"

"… Huh?"

I change the PPG for a stunner, and shoot him, and he collapses face first to the rooftop.

Ring, tip off the police.

Message sent.

Because any of the other younger races leading the pack is just waiting for another disaster like the Earth-Minbar War. Just because I'm agreeable to the eventual aim that doesn't mean that I'll accept self-defeating methods.

Alright, scan again. Better make sure there aren't even more people planning on taking a shot at her.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th October 2013
14:34 GMT -5

"…like you said, and we've got a good cross-party consensus on it."

I nod as Tony leads me through the offices of the Russell Senate Office Building, one of the buildings where the elected senators of the American Federal Government have their offices and do all the sort of non-public-facing work which has given their calling its reputation.

"Trade away any good horses?"

"Not this time." He snorts. "Strangest experience of my career. I just pointed out what you were saying about us becoming irrelevant, and… We are giving them a chance to get behind an Alzheimer's cure."

"Treatment."

"If you've got no symptoms, are you really ill?"

"You'll eventually get to the point where just backing up your memories isn't enough."

He glances my way for a moment. "You're an under-promise and over-deliver kinda guy, aren't you?"

"I try to provide accurate information."

"You ever thought about running for office yourself?"

I give him a sidelong look, left eyebrow raised. "I try to provide accurate information."

"Heh, good answer."

"Besides, to paraphrase the Lex Luthor from Universe Twelve: 'Do you know how much power I'd have to give up to become a Senator?'."

"Luthor said that?"

"No, he said: 'Do you know how much power I'd have to give up to be President'."

"Their Luthor was running for President?"

"Not seriously, but he faked it to cover up what he was actually doing. But getting back to the-" We step around some staffers. "-point..?"

"Are there other cybernetics? Something that could back up the rest of the brain? Or... I don't know, replace it?"

"Replace the brain?"

"Yeah. What was that..? Movie, with Robin Williams? The one where he played that robot who wanted to be legally human."

"Bicentennial Man?"

"Yeah, that's it. So he was a robot who had his whole body replaced with meat, right?"

"I don't remember the film, but in the book they couldn't replace his brain."

"Ah, who reads books these days? But, we've got robot citizens. If there was a robot like him in our America, he wouldn't be human, but he'd still be a person. So's a guy who replaces his arm with a robot arm. So what about a guy who replaces his brain?"

"Assuming it was replaced piece by piece and like for like, and the system allowed for all the things the human brain allows for, and care was taken to ensure that the soul remained attached, then they'd still be themselves."

"Can that actually happen?"

"There's not a lot of data, but in theory, yes. Shouldn't be that hard to avoid, but I wouldn't rush towards roboticisation just yet."

"Is there some supervillain who actually has that technology?"

"Doctor Carapax managed something like that. We're not really sure how, and the lack of sensory input drove him a bit peculiar. After the Life Broadcast, KordTech built him a human-like body using Doctor Morrow's technology."

"Morrow. That's the guy you copied when you made the Eye Drive."

I nod. "Brilliant man, but the closest he got to uploading himself was creating an android that thought like him and shared a copy of his memories. His colleague Doctor Ivo couldn't tell the two of them apart."

"Huh. I don't suppose you can just… Pull a mind out of a human body and stick it in a machine, can you?"

"You sort of can, but you run into the whole 'copy versus transfer' problem. The human mind is a complex series of chemical potentials and electrochemical patterns. When you say 'transfer', what exactly are you doing to the original? How do you 'transfer' chemicals?"

"If they're encoding a memory, can't you just transfer it to some other medium?"

"You can create a copy of it in another medium, certainly. And then I suppose that you could destroy the original, but at that point what's the difference between what you've done and creating a copy?"

He thinks for a moment, and then shrugs. "So how would you deal with it?"

"I can use my rings to stop my brain falling apart, my mind is mostly energy-based and I have backup bodies hidden around the place in case anything happens to this one. For someone else… High-end health magic can reduce the rate of decay to the point where something else will kill you before it becomes a problem."

"Magic like that's not something we can roll out en masse."

"I know, I was trying to fix that as well, and then… Everything happened."

We reach the door to Senator Bradley Covington's office, and Tony knocks on his door. "Brad, it's Tony. You in?" He turns to me. "What exactly is 'high-end'?"

"High quality. If it was focused around a wearable artefact, if would be expensive to make at the moment, but there wouldn't be any ongoing costs."

"Mm." He knocks again. "Brad, you taking a shit in there or something? Open the door already."

"Problem?"

He shrugs. "I dunno. I said I'd be along around two thirty."

I scan-. Baffles, which is actually a good thing, because government offices should really be warded. Infrared shows that he's in there on his own-.

Chemical analyser is detecting blood.

I grab the handle, use a construct to undo the mechanical lock and deactivate the magnetic lock, and push the door open.

"Senator, are you-?"

What?

Senator Bradley Covington is sitting on a chair with a tube in his arm, blood travelling out of him and into-.

A worm. A fat and happy worm.

He sits up, irritation being overcome by apprehension as he sees me.

"Ah, look, this isn't-."

"Senator, you and that thing are under arrest."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th October 2013
14:40 GMT -5

"Senator-."

"IT'S FOR THE GOOD OF THE COUNTRY!"

The police officer looks over at me as I maintain the containment barrier around the worm. It tried vomiting acid on the construct but… The effect was fairly anaemic compared to what they did last time I saw them and my construct held out just fine. The worm appeared to realise that, and… Drank its own bile from inside the construct.

Yeah, I-.

"LET ME GO! I MUST FEED IT!"

Tony looks at me beseechingly. "Can you knock him out or something? I don't think anyone needs to hear him while he's like this."

I… Yeah. He's clearly not in his right mind, and-. I know that British laws on harming someone's reputation are a good deal more harsh than the American version, but until he gets disenchanted…

I gesture to Senator Covington, and he loses consciousness in the arms of the officers dragging him away. One gives me a nod of thanks, and then they drag him out of the office.

Tony comes closer, staring at the apparently happy worm. "What is that thing? One of those… Symbiotes?"

"No, this is a parasite. A spiritual manifestation of the worst excesses of political corruption."

"A demon?"

"More of an elemental, really. Though some elementals can be every bit as unpleasant as demons. These things aren't a physical threat in anything other than overwhelming numbers. I haven't seen one manifested in the material universe before…"

I take my rune stone out of my harness and step away from the worm towards Senator Covington's desk.

"Checking for clues?"

"Magic residue. It would be far easier to bind an elemental to an object than just conjure it up."

"Is it controlling Bradley?"

"Could be."

"I mean, if it's a corruption elemental, I guess it causes corruption."

No glow from the closest desk leg. "Could be."

"What else could it be?"

"Elementals can offer deals, too. It could take blood in exchange for manipulating other corrupt people, or for magnifying how inclined towards corruption they are, or… Any number of things, really. It could even be a cult ritual."

"I've been to church with Brad."

"Elementals don't have the same reaction to sanctified spaces as demons do. And that's assuming that your church has been properly sanctified." Next leg, no. Side panel, no. "And cults generally allow their members to live their cover."

"So if it's a cult, what's it doing for him then?"

"Ensuring mutually ensured destruction. It wouldn't be the.. first time I've seen something like that. Everyone in a group has blackmail material against everyone else, so no one can risk betraying the others."

"There are others?"

Legs and side panels checked, I move on to the drawers.

"There was something like that happening in the music industry a little while ago. I wasn't involved in investigating it, and I'd rather-."

"I mean, here. In Washington."

"Not even joking, I'd frankly be astonished if there wasn't, or if there was only one."

"If that's true, that's going to completely destroy our credibility."

"I know."

"And, are you okay with that?"

"I'm more concerned with the possible existence of a cult, but no, I'd rather that didn't happen."

"And if you find other people..?"

"They get arrested on corruption charges. That gets made public, and we leave out the supernatural angle until everyone involved has been thoroughly detoxed and their successors have been in office for a while."

"I don't know if that's.. the best way to handle it."

"And I can't dictate how the League's going to handle it. If you've got a better idea, feel free to-" There. "-share it."

Pull out the drawer, nothing, but the stone is still glowing. Plenty of ways to disguise things with magic, but… No false bottom, so pull the drawer out, turn it over-.

There we are.

Doesn't look Atlantean, but the meaning of the Blinded Eye of Providence is fairly obvious. I'll leave it for whichever of the League's magicians gets called in to deal with this, because while technically this might be closer to Timothy's area of expertise, I'm not putting a new trainee near this sort of prosecution.

"Does Senator Covington have any cross-bench friends? Perhaps people he doesn't usually vote with?"

"Yeah, but that's not unusual. We don't necessarily like the people we work with or hate the ones we work against."

"No, but-. Ending a summoning like this is very easy, and… It would be best if we weren't seen clamping down on elected representatives. But we can't let anyone doing this escape our detection, or their associates."

He nods slowly.

"And I am not good at subtle. Ah…" Richard's going to be in class. So is Beryl. Roy should be available. Red Star-. No. And no one else who might be available is much better. "Orange Lantern to Arsenal."

"What's up?"

"I could use your help in Washington D.C.."

"Oh, did you find the demon cult secretly ruling America from the shadows?"

"Yes."

"Ah…" … "Okay, give me ten minutes and then open a zeta tube."

"Thank you. Orange Lantern to Zatanna."

"You found a worm?"

"Yes, and where there's one there's usually more."

"I'm free now?"

"Great." I generate a zeta tube construct. "Come on through."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th October 2013
14:52 GMT -5

I look at the map Zatanna requisitioned, and all of the glowing dots on it.

"Eighty two."

She nods. "Should I be more surprised?"

I put my hands on my head, palms on my forehead and fingers in my hair. "Surprised that they sold out to worms, yes. There's selling out, and then there's selling out for so little. I thought we'd find a couple of demon cultists, at least."

"I think the angels probably got them."

"Or a mason? Wasn't America founded by masons?"

"So what do we do about it?"

I glance at the increasingly twitchy Senator Monetti.

"I suppose it would be helpful if we caught a few more with their pants down." Zatanna pulls a face-. "Metaphorically. They don't-"

"Oh."

"-feed from-." I frown. "I mean… They probably could…"

"Recognised, Arsenal, B One Six."

Roy stomps through my construct zeta tube in power armour, and I dismiss it. "What's up?"

"Our government are a bunch of worm cultists?"

"Worm-? What?"

I point to the worm in my construct case, which appears to have gone to sleep.

"It's a manifestation of political corruption."

"Okay… How many?"

"Eighty two."

"Out of five hundred thirty five? I'm a little surprised it's not more."

Zatanna shrugs. "Technically, it's just eighty two summon glyphs. They could be sharing. And it might just be the staffers."

"Is..? President Knight..?"

She shakes her head. "Not as far as I can tell."

"Unless his mental state has improved a good deal since last time I saw him, I wouldn't want him involved in any kind of conspiracy either. He'd be a huge liability."

Roy scans Zatanna's scrying map, then creates a three dimensional image of the centre of Washington D.C.. "We need more manpower… Local police?"

"At least one of the cultists has to be a wizard, but we won't know which one until some poor sap tries arresting them."

"OMACs?"

"They're not exactly subtle."

But who? Jade's Darkstar squad could help, but there aren't that many of them. Particularly if we want to handle this quietly-.

"Wait, what are Kobra up to right now?"

Roy and Zatanna turn their heads towards me simultaneously, and while I can't see Roy's face Zatanna is looking incredulous. Behind them, Tony doesn't look much happier.

"What? Did I miss something?"

Roy dismisses the hologram and turns to face me. "I'm wondering if I did. Kobra? The snake-themed terrorists who tried to nuke India?"

"They surrendered to Doctor Mist. They have operatives who can work covertly, are familiar with magic and… Last I heard were complying with the requirements of their parole."

Zatanna shudders. "If you're worried about the optics of arresting this many elected representatives… I think Kobra would be worse than us doing it. People… Most people don't know about what happened to them."

Tony nods. "I sure as Hell didn't. What was that about paroling them?"

"Ah… Kobra ended up split into two factions. One faction committed crimes to gain power, the other did it due to a sort of spiritual accelerationism. They believed that by causing the collapse of global civilisation, a better civilisation would emerge. We were able to talk them into believing that had already happened, as well as weakening the first half of the organisation to the point where the cultists just absorbed what was left."

"And that's-. You just-. What are they..?"

"They're being closely supervised doing… A wide variety of projects across India, and a few other places where the members of the crime-faction decided to stay with Kobra rather than just becoming regular criminals."

Tony shakes his head. "If you're worried about public opinion, using a bunch of Kobra cultists in.. that kind of official capacity is just about the worst thing you could do. People might accept them doing penal labor or whatever, but making arrests?" He shakes his head again, more emphatically.

"Do you have a suggestion?"

"Local police. Preferably with someone from the Justice League overseeing things. And tell the Speaker ahead of time, so he can cover for you. Ah, unless he's… In on it."

Roy shrugs. "There wasn't one in the Speaker's office, but that doesn't necessarily mean much."

"Okay. That sounds reasonable. Zatanna, can you interrogate a worm?"

"You're the one with the universal translator."

I walk over to the construct box, and float it up to eye level.

"Do you want to explain what you are doing here?"

It wiggles in my direction, eyes focusing on me.

"What do you want me to say? I will do what I am told. I will not make trouble."

Tony frowns. "Can't you..? Make it answer?"

Zatanna nods. "Llet eht hturt."

"Muh?"

Its eye shift in her direction for a moment, then its skin.. sort of bulges-.

"Zatanna, stop the-!"

The worm bursts, flesh, bile and blood coating the inside of my construct.

"I… Didn't mean to-."

"It was a manifestation of corruption and you compelled it to be honest."

She winces. "Right."

"Arsenal, can you liaise with the police? I'm going to check in with Batman."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th October 2013
14:57 GMT -5

"Sir..? What do you mean by 'useful'?"

"Exactly what I said. We want the Federal Government to start operating again, but we do not want them to get in the way of our work. I'm going to send Mister Miracle to assist you. Do not allow the arrests to become public knowledge."

"Sir..?"

"If it turns out that they were voluntarily associated with some sort of corrupt cult, we can press charges. But until that is confirmed, I see no reason to damage their reputations or risk ours."

"So… Bring the police in by boom tube as well?"

"Or by ring. I'll leave the details up to you."

"Okay, I can manage that. But going back to-"

His face vanishes from above my ring.

"-useful-?"

I could ring him back, but… It's not as if I can't work it out. Arresting a large number of elected officials will remind the rest who's really in charge. And revealing the existence of these worms will show everyone why we're the ultimate authority. Because… He's not wrong about the Federal Government getting in the way being a bad thing.

I just…

BOOM!

I lower my privacy screen construct as Scott Free and Big Barda walk in through a hole in the fabric of spacetime, while across the room, Roy nods at the face on his communicator and closes it down. "They're gunna need a little while to get enough people together, but they're calling in off-duty officers right now."

"Good. Mister Miracle? Barda? Did Batman brief you?"

Barda scowls. "Batman has grown demanding."

Mister Free shrugs. "He's under a lot of pressure. What's-?" He spots the remains of the worm. "Ooh." He pulls out his multi-cube and scans it. "This isn't a magical avatar. This is a physical body."

Zatanna frowns at it. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty much. Since it's physically… You know, sundered, it would be radiating stored magic as it started decaying if it was made of magic."

"But… There's a binding…"

She shows him the drawer. He takes a look, and then shrugs. "I never learned… Whatever notation this is. Are you sure it's not doing something else?"

"I… Maybe? It's binding them to something."

"Is it binding it to Senator Covington?"

"His blood would be enough to do that."

"I'm just wondering if this worm body was made from his tissue, and if the spirit of the worm is back in its host."

"Ahhhhh-. Nruter ot ruoy sniamer!"

The worm-ooze bubbles and undulates-. And then vaporises.

"Zatanna?"

"Some sort of contingency spell. Ecart!"

A light appears for a moment over the Washington map, and then it splutters and catches fire! I extinguish it, and work out where that light appeared.

"That's… June Finch's office. She wasn't on the binding seal list."

Tony's eyes widen. "She's also the chair of the Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor and Pensions."

"That's…" Convenient. Suspiciously convenient, but it would explain-. No, because-.

Mr. Free leans over Zatanna to look at the map. "Are we paying her a visit first?"

"We have to, right now, because that spell will almost certainly notified her. Mister Miracle?"

He waves the multi-cube over the map, returns it to his belt and then nods. "Mother Box?"

"Ping."

BOOM!

Heavy armour, construct armour, and walk-.

Barda shoves me aside and walks through first.

I recover and follow her through a moment later-.

Euww…

The Senator has… Uh, worms plural, moving in and out of her body, popping out of patches of exposed skin before sliding back in with only a brief bulge in the flesh to mark their passing. Her natural human eyes have been replaced by worm-eyes, and… My empathic vision isn't so much being blocked as glitching.

"Senator… Are you in there?"

"Yes."

Her voice sounds… Pretty normal. Considering.

"Are you in control, there?"

Zatanna steps through the portal and gasps, quietly.

"I am more in control of my life now than I have been for years."

"Excuse my scepticism."

Mister Miracle comes through next, stares for a moment and then picks up his multi-cube.

"Could you please explain..? This?"

"This is me paying recompense for my sins. All of us paying recompense for all of our sins."

"And what sins would those be?"

"What we did at Mannheim's command. And before that. I had such grand ideas before I was elected, and then I came here and I abandoned every single one in short order."

"Is that when you acquired the worms?"

"One for every abandoned dream, and idea, and betrayal. These are my worms, Orange Lantern, and they are still with me."

"Zatanna?"

"I.. could… Probably get rid of them, but I don't know what that would do to her."

Darn it. "How are the worms supposed to absolve you?"

"I feed them the blood of a traitor. My blood. Once I've fed them enough, then they will leave."

"Okay, that's… Nice. But you'll be feeding them from a cell from now on."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th April 2258
13:27 G.M.T. +1

I drop down in my seat across from Mayan with a sigh, and… She's glaring at me?

"I didn't realise that you found my talk so offensive."

I roll my eyes, reach down, fabricate copies of the arrest records of my targets and then pass them to her.

She takes them, frowning. "What is this?"

"The people I prevented murdering you, you delightful living target." She blinks. "I felt that as poignant as it would have been for you to die mid-speech, it would probably work out better if a member of the Grey Council didn't have one of her friends killed on Earth by human hands."

She opens the charge sheets one after the other, skimming the front sheets before closing them and sitting back.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. You know, it seems to me that we could arrest the entirety of the Homeguard, just by having you travel around and give speeches next to their regional offices."

"I do not particularly enjoy being the target of such attacks. Having seen the way in which people respond to me, I have been forced to conclude that you may be correct."

"It has been known to happen."

"I still want to encourage rapprochement between our species, but it has occurred to me that I did not ask a human what they thought the best approach would be. What do you advise?"

"The only people interested in listening to you right now are people who don't bear a grudge anyway. I haven't really thought about it in any detail, but… Off the top of my head, you could either go to a small colony and work as a literature teacher so the people there can get to know you as an individual, or get a job with a newspaper and write a… Travel log or something."

She nods, thinking it over for a moment.

"What is a 'newspaper'?"

I blink. "What?"

"It is the first thing I have heard you say that did not receive a translation."

"That-. Right, Rot Lop Fan. You don't have a concept of it, so there's nothing to translate it to."

"And now a second word. What is 'Rot Lop Fan'?"

"That's a rather deep rabbit-hole."

"And now I understand the words, but not the meaning."

"In English, the term 'rabbit hole' is used both for the entrance to a rabbit's burrow, and also for a subject which, while apparently simple on the surface, can be explored at length and constantly reveal new twists and turns… Like a rabbit's burrow."

She regards me with puzzlement for a moment. "Matthew, what do you think my job is?"

I grin. "Aw, dang. Sick burn."

"It was not my intent to burn you."

"I know. That makes it better." I fabricate a copy of Tales of the Green Lantern Corps Annual number 3… And translate it into the Religious Caste version of the minbari language… And the variant that Mayan writes most of her poetry in. "But what has been learned cannot be unlearned."

"A human student told me that humans unlearn things with alcohol."

"Heh, sort of. But seriously, it may completely change the way you view the universe. I mean, the gods of comedy and madness are always looking for converts, but you seem happy as you are."

"I doubt that a children's book would induce delirium."

"Alright." I pass it over. "This was written two hundred and seventy seven years ago, two years before I was born."

"'Tales of the Green Lantern Corps'. And you are an Orange Lantern."

"Yes."

She studies the cover for a moment, and then turns to the first page. "Other colors of Lantern exist?"

"If they do, I haven't seen them."

She turns another page, and reads it. "Rot Lop Fan's species have no eyes, and so he has no concept of light. And minbari have no concept of what a newspaper is. From the etymology, I assume that it is a paper containing information on new things."

"Nearly. They're regularly published… Pamphlets? Which contain current affairs information and analysis. And sports."

"And who has access to them?"

"Anyone with five credits?" She starts frowning. "What?"

"Everyone has access."

"Yes."

"I see. And there is more than one?"

"Yes. Most cultivate an audience who sees the universe a particular way, and write to appeal to them. Thus ensuring that there's a diversity of opinion in the public space."

"I-." She frowns. "Why is that better than speaking directly to your intellectual elite? Surely, having the ideas I present evaluated by those experts and then disseminated more broadly would be more efficient? More respectful to your cultural institutions?"

"Mayan, no one-. Very few people, respect the literature department. And most of the other parts of our institutions aren't widely respected."

"Then why do they occupy these positions?"

"Because the people who gave them those positions do respect them. They're just a small part of human civilisation as a whole. Look, I-. I get the impression that minbari society is highly regimented. Stratified. There's a clear sense of hierarchy and just about everyone sticks to it."

She waits a moment for me to make my point.

"Yes?"

I shake my head. "Human civilisation does not work like that."

She frowns thoughtfully. "You told me that many of you hold your president in contempt. I did not appreciate that such an attitude extended more broadly."

"Yeah… For winning humans over, I really think that working from the bottom up, either by fully integrating yourself into a community or by embracing celebrity-."

Mayan gasps. She's… Staring at the comic.

"This is a work of fiction."

"Yes."

"Is it based on encounters between your species and those amongst the First Ones who sponsor you?"

"Not to the best of my knowledge."

"The ring depicted here is the same as the one you wear."

I nod. "It's the same technology, yes. As far as I'm able to determine."

"But this is fiction."

"Do you know what the difference between fiction and reality is?"

She drags her eyes up to me. "Yes."

"The quote I am referring to is this: 'The difference between reality and fiction is that fiction has to make sense.'" Her language only. "I wear on my hand a device that grants me the powers of its fictional alter-ego, so either a First One is a big fan of twentieth century comics, or we have complete confirmation that the universe we live in is real and not fictional."

I lean a little closer, smiling.

"Because no one with a scrap of talent or skill would write something like this."

She doesn't manage to focus on me, and her breaths are sharp.

"I think… I think I need to meditate." She nods to herself. "At length."

"Entirely understandable. I'll keep the assassins off you while you're busy."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th October 2013
17:24 GMT -5

The door opens and Kal-El strides through, clearly distraught. "Is it true?"

I gesture through the observation window to where Dr. Balewa is carefully examining Senator Finch. "The report I submitted was accurate at the time of writing, sir."

He stares through the window-. And from the way his eyes are focusing, he's using one of his alternate visual modes. After a moment he lowers his eyes and shakes his head.

"I can't even see where she ends and those creature start. I assume some sort of.. banishment, isn't safe?"

"We don't know. There's literally no reports on this sort of elemental other than the one Blue Lantern and I wrote, and we didn't know very much."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "And they're all in the cells?"

"Yes. Every one we've checked for infestation and found clear has insisted that they got involved voluntarily."

"But we're still holding them."

"They didn't declare it." He gives me a mild frown. "They would be obliged to, at the very least. And of course we're concerned about spiritual and mental contamination. Best case as far as I can see is that they just… Jumped out of the woodwork and started controlling them."

He shakes his head. "Great Krypton. What does this do to the U.S. government?"

"Nothing? The remaining elected officials can still hold debates and vote on things. A few committees will need to be reshuffled, and all of the… Governors usually nominate replacements, don't they?"

"We just had an election."

"If it makes you feel any better, none of the new intake were involved in this. "

"So… We have another election? If it's different states-."

I hold up my right hand. "I.. said the new intake wasn't involved, not that the states they got elected in weren't involved."

"I suppose if the runners up were from the same party, they could take the job. At least it would be some kind of democratic process."

I smile innocently at him. "But have you considered..? Monarchy?"

"Ah-hah." He looks slightly cheered up, so I suppose that half-worked. "The people of America might be pretty disappointed in the institution and the people occupying it, but I don't think they'll ever give up on the principle."

"You know, you did come third in the last presidential election."

"I didn't win any states, and I only got electoral college votes as a publicity stunt."

"Why do you still use that?"

He frowns at me. "Are you..? Telling me we should abandon a tradition just because it's out of date and doesn't make any sense?"

"… No…"

"Didn't think so. You got any ideas on how we could… Mitigate this?"

"Well, I did cure Alzheimer's."

He raises his eyebrows, "You did?"

"My device treats the symptoms, anyway. And it's just about good enough to start limited trials. The only idea I've got right now is to have American legislature announce some sort of accelerated trial period. Or skip it completely."

"That's a bit of a risk. Clinical trials exist for a reason."

"Then… Some sort of radical anti-this legislation? Say it was in response to the Anti-Life, but that this just underlines why it's necessary? Alan would probably be quite annoyed with me if I suggested bringing back the House Un-American Activities Committee, but-"

"I think he would."

"-we can just ask Uncle Sam to give everyone the once-over. Can't get more American than Uncle Sam."

"I…" He sighs. "I guess we can think about it. I suppose a procedural change would be easier than amending the Constitution."

"I don't know. Lincoln rushed a constitutional change through before the states reorganised, and that one is generally considered to have gone pretty well."

Through the glass we watch as Dr. Balewa moves his hands, and… The worms squirm out of Senator Finch's body before crawling across the floor to hide in the corner of the room. That doesn't seem to cause the woman herself any particular distress.

"Doctor Mist?"

"I should be able to remove the worms with little difficulty." He sighs in irritation. "But theyah is some other magic heyah, and it is… Confounding me."

"What does it do?"

"The worm Miss Zatanna killed, there was little human blood. Neither did the creature store it either physically or as magic energy. Then where did eet go?"

"To Senator Finch?"

"No. Thet is not the case."

Oh no…

I walk over and press the 'talk' button as… Her eye stalks.. wiggle.. back inside her head, revealing her normal human eyes,

"Senator Finch, you were offering the worms the blood of traitors?"

"As… Penance. We were traitors. We are.. trying to be patriots."

"Orange Lantern?"

"The Tree of Liberty."

"Ah…"

"It exists in the Heartland. I watered it under Uncle Sam's instruction. He made a joke about where the blood came from. Even said that it could be literal blood. There were loads of worms in the Heartland the first time we visited. We didn't find any this time. But we didn't check his shed."

"Uncle… Sam..?" Kal-El frowns, shaking his head. "That… Doesn't sound…"

"No, there's almost certainly something else going on there. But we need to check. Doctor Mist-."

"I could open a portal, but I will be busy here."

"That's fine, Zatanna's still around. Superman, do you want to come?"

He nods firmly. "Yeah. I think I need to."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th October 2013
17:51 GMT -5

The three of us put our right hand on an unresisting worm.

"Ekat su ot erehw eht doolb swolf."

The jail around us flickers, and then-.

Yeah, there's the tree. Kal-El takes it in for a moment, his eyes switching between various states. "This is.. strange. I can smell the blood, but the soil isn't really… Soil."

I walk towards the shed. "Yep. Welcome to magic demi-planes, or whatever the proper term is."

Zatanna looks at me. "Realms."

I nod in acknowledgement. Push the shed door open, and… It's bigger on the inside, amazing. Pictures… And small collection vessels. The pictures match the faces of the politicians… And a few more. Ring, record.

Compliance.

"Uncle Sam!"

I ignore Kal-El as he shouts, and make sure that I've got everything-

"Y'know, fellah."

-recorded. I turn to see Uncle Sam sitting at a potting bench, one large pot, one small pot with a seedling apple tree, and a bag of compost.

"A man's shed is supposed to be a private space." He starts scooping compost out of the bag and putting it into the large pot. "Somewhere he can go to busy his hands and let his mind work over his problems."

"Ideally, yes. But I'm afraid that we have to question you regarding the subversion of the American government."

He makes a very small smile, the large pot mostly filled. "You got a warrant?"

"This is not a home or a place of business. If anything, I would describe it as a public or religious space. And Superman smelled blood before I came in."

"So?"

"The blood is probable cause. I can't arrest you, and I don't intend to pick a fight. But we're here to give you the chance to explain yourself, because… Jokes aside, I don't really see you as an enemy."

"That right?" He makes a hole in the compost and carefully tips the apple seedling into his hand before putting it into the larger pot. "I seem to remember that the people present at my own birth might have felt rather differently."

"Jokes aside, sir."

He picks up a small watering can and-. Just water this time, waters the apple seedling.

"You'd have some sort of existence even if you'd remained a British colony. The ideas your founders had concerning personal liberty were not in contradiction with what most people in Britain believed, and your earliest citizens considered themselves British."

"Hm." He stands, putting down the watering can and picking up the larger pot. "Alright, lead the way."

Uugh, that probably has some American ritual significance that I'm too British to understand. But alright, this is supposed to be a polite meeting. So rather than escorting him out while keeping him in my field of view the entire time, I do actually turn around and walk out.

"Found him."

My colleagues look around. Kal-El looks like he was pacing, while Zatanna's doing something with one of the roots.

"Uncle Sam?" Kal-El steps forward as Uncle Sam walks out behind me. "What's going on?"

"I hope you're familiar with the Christian concept of repentance."

Kal-El nods cautiously. "I was raised a Methodist."

"Well, after you managed to dispense with the Anti-Life by filling the hearts of the afflicted with life, they had cause to reflect upon what they'd done. Both, under the influence and prior. And they did not feel that they had lived the lives that they should have been. But since their desire to do better was genuine, I decided that I would hear their confessions."

"Papist."

"Paul." Kal-El looks at me for a moment. "Not now."

I raise my hands in surrender.

Uncle Sam walks closer to the tree. "I had a powerful need for blood, of traitors and patriots both. So, we reached an accord. They would feed the worms I sent to them, and I would use their blood to restore the Tree."

Zatanna frowns. "I thought you hated the worms."

"I don't respect them, if that's your meaning. I would be quite content to learn that they had stopped existing. But so long as you've got 'em where you can see 'em, you can make 'em do a good day's work. They weren't feeding The Brass because they thought it was wise; they did it because Johnny told 'em to."

Kal-El frowns. "The people feeding the worms weren't acting like themselves."

"They were half-crazed with guilt. Of course they weren't acting like they were back when they were lying rattlesnakes."

Zatanna frowns. "Are you..? Sure..? The worms weren't making it worse?"

"Nope."

She blinks. "Huh?"

Uncle Sam gives her a mildly irritated glare. "Girl, do you know where you are?"

"Yes, you-."

"Sacrifice, girl. What sort of witch does not understand sacrifice? It is natural and normal and essential for a people that they value the collective of which they are apart above their own wellbeing. Those people subverted the American government, spat upon their oaths of office -and I choose my words with care there- and all told made a mockery of everything I am. So if they come to me and tell me that they wish to make amends, then amends they shall make, whether they pay in blood or reason. And you have all benefited from their sacrifice."

Kal-El exhales slowly, thinking it over. "I understand what you were trying to do, but the worms were influencing them while they were supposed to be serving in public office."

"They were serving in public office, by God! For the first time in their lives! Look at their recent records and tell me that they have not!"

"Ah, what..?" Zatanna looks nervous. "What happens if they stop?"

"What happens?" Uncle Sam still looks angry, though his temper is more under control. "What happens is that the Tree of Liberty takes longer to get back to full strength. Every American is just a little more vulnerable to otherworldly and un-American influences for just a little longer. And they'll have been denied the chance to purge their guilt."

"But the Tree won't die?"

"Can't see why it would. The fundamentals are still strong."

"Then… Superman? Why don't we just kill all the worms and put the cultists under observation?" She shrugs. "They can't have their old jobs back-."

Uncle Sam frowns. "And why the Hell would you do that? Now they're actually doing them, you've no cause to take them away."

"Uncle Sam… What exactly is it that you want out of this?"

He glares at Kal-El, pointing his right forefinger at his chest. "I want you."