🚀 go-pugleaf

     February 4

          Day nineteen.  We got a call in from Andy -- he says that we
     can't reasonably expect the Oort shield to hold much longer.  The
     aliens will get through.  I'm told they look something like
     humanoid cats, though that's not a good comparison.  They're more
     like tigers combined with gorillas, and they have beaks.  For
     drinking honey, Mike says.  Hah hah hah.  See how much I'm
     laughing.
          Someday I'll tell Mike how much I hate Monty Python.
          Manny called in too.  He managed to get through to Rad and
     Glum.  I guess there's some sort of crap about the Muhuharharhar
     treaty, or whatever you call them.  Manny sounds livid.  Mike
     called the Xolchipalians, and they're coming, but they've got to
     fight through a blockade.  We have to hold them off until the
     cavalry arrives.
          Andy says there's some sort of Defensive Net he thinks we
     can design.  He's got Smartman, Mike, Qwintor, and Bill Paul in
     with him, along with a realtime link with something like six AIs.
     I never knew Solutions had two AIs before.
          The key, of course, lies in Skids, Cookie, and Kevi.  They
     have to hold everything together.  Superuser's the backup, but
     his suit can't do the job the Gestalt can.  The AIs say they'll
     help, but....
          Poor Kevi.  He just wanted to spend time with his baby girl.
     But then, Andy's not giving in, and he's got bigger problems.
     Single parent to twins.  Wow.
          I kind of wish I'd gotten to know Summer.
          Apparently, the Defense Net has something to do with the
     Xolchaportation Network -- using it as a Smart Supercomputer Net,
     with offensive capabilities.  I don't know -- I can sense some
     serious Unorthodoxy in it, but that's all I can sense.
          In other news, Bruce has turned all his resources to
     supporting the Net -- just like Awesome A., except that Rogers
     Industries can't command that kind of financial power right now,
     without seriously weakening it.  Bruce isn't talking much about
     it -- he says all of that sort of thing can be dealt with after
     the aliens are driven back.  I guess he's right, but if Rogers
     Industries collapses, so does the Rogers Foundation.  And if the
     Foundation goes, the Adjusted League's funding goes with it.
          I wonder if Team Cynical is hiring.

                                                          from the Journals
                                                        of Trudy Unorthodox
                                                          Volume IV, "2004"


                                   2035
                   A Decidedly Different Superguy Story

                                Chapter Ten
                                    by
                             Eric Alfred Burns


     The water was deep.  And that much water exerts tremendous pressure.
Normally, a person underwater has the buoyancy of her lungs to help her
float up -- though the change in pressure would rupture them.
     Chalandra had no air in her lungs, and she never thought the pressure
would be so much.
     Her body was durable -- it hadn't been crushed.  But even with the hot
life-blood of Thomas fueling her muscles, she could barely move.  It was
like a mountain -- or an entire Metroplex -- was pressing on her.
     The sun could never reach her this far down.  She was safe.  And as
the blood burned away she'd become helpless, unable to move.  Finally, she
would just exist -- a mind that was trapped in the depths.
     She forced her arms to move.  The blood thudded in every cell.
     She started to rise.

                                * * * * * *

     Gabrielle helped Tina out of the AirSkiff.  She was wide eyed.  Well,
the Goodwin Clinic did that to a person.  It was huge, for one thing.  For
another, it gleamed with technology -- the very state of the art.  Awesome
Amalgamated threw all the resources it could into this place.
     Of course, this was the central processing plant for another sort of
resource, wasn't it?
     She clucked to herself.  Such thoughts weren't very helpful.  And the
Goodwin Clinic was here to help.
     They went in.  Alpha-cit Carruthers was waiting.  He was rated a
Paranorm, though no one could say how it was expressed.  But his mind was
far too fast, his thoughts too powerful, to be anything else.
     Beta-cit Carlson was with him.  Carlson was the Security Head.  He was
a short man -- barely five feet in height.  But he was a powerful paranorm.
And in this case, DefSquad wouldn't be adequate.
     "Hello there, Tina.  Can I call you Tina?" Carruthers asked.  He was a
very handsome man -- blond hair, unnaturally green eyes.  He could charm
when he wanted to.  And when a little girl -- a paranorm little girl --
came into the clinic, he was very charming indeed.
     "Yes, Alpha-cit," the little girl said.  She had been very mindful of
Gabrielle's Beta status.  Carruthers seemed to put her in awe.
     "I'm glad.  Welcome to the Summer Goodwin Memorial Paranormality
Clinic.  Do you know why you're here?"
     The little girl shook her head.
     "It's because you're special.  Very special indeed.  And Awesome
Amalgamated wants to make certain all Citizens can make the most of their
talents.  So if you're special, you need to go someplace where you can make
the most of being special, right?"
     The little girl, still shy, nodded.
     "Good.  Good."
     "Are Mummy and Daddy coming too?"
     Carlson bit his lip slightly, but Carruthers didn't miss a beat.  "No,
Honey -- your parents are being taken care of -- that's what Awesome
Amalgamated does, right?"
     "Right...." she said -- uncertain.
     "So, if Awesome Amalgamated thinks that they need to go to one place,
to be taken care of, and you to another...why, that's all right, isn't it?"
     Tina looked thoughtful.  "I...I *guess*...."
     "There...you see?  And I'm sure that you'll be in contact with them
soon.  Come with me -- I'd like to talk with you."  He nodded to Gabrielle
and Carlson, and took the little girl in.
     "Plays her like a violin, doesn't he," Carlson said quietly.
     "That's his job," Gabrielle said, and started walking towards the
escalators.
     "Hold up," Carlson said, pacing her.  "What's wrong with you?"
     "Nothing," she said curtly.
     "Hey hey, come on, Gabi."  He caught her arm.  "I know you better than
that."
     Gabrielle sighed.  "It's just....  I'm not sure, Frank.  Something
about that little girl bothers me.  I can't say what it is."
     Carlson's brow furrowed.  "Is she a hazard?"
     "No no.  Nothing like that...."  Gabrielle looked up at the building.
"I've never dealt with a Spontaneous Metagenetic Expression in someone that
young before.  Her emotional template -- her make-up.  It's so...different
than the babies we raise or the adults we find.  I've never seen it
before."
     Carlson thought about that for a moment.  "I see," he said finally.
Gabrielle wasn't sure if he did or didn't.
     She also couldn't tell if he was worried or concerned.  Carlson's
emotions were closed to her.
     Which is what made him so Noj-blasted attractive.  And the blend of
their paranormalities could well result in a license for three or more
children.
     That thought thrilled and frightened her.  And she couldn't say why to
either.

                                * * * * * *

     Higher, she pushed.  The blood was helping, but it was also burning
away.
     Was one life enough?  Could one life get her out?
     It was easier as she got higher -- but she was also more tired.
     She was so damn tired.  So utterly tired.
     Why not sink?  Why not let the comfortable weight hold her down.  It
was said a trapped Vampire entered delirium as he starved.  A panorama of
history became that Vampire's life.
     Well, why not?  Her lovers were all dead.  Why not sink into death
with them?
     But still her arms hammered at the endless water.  Still her legs
kicked.  The coat was weighing her down, but she couldn't bring herself to
get rid of it.  She couldn't....
     She couldn't care.

                                * * * * * *

     Mike leaned up against the elm tree.  It was one of Double-A's special
elms -- it could survive the diseases that had nearly wiped the trees from
the world.  He looked at the grey stone, with the black letters, now worn
with age.
     Unlike most of the others, there was no cut symbol in the stone.  Just
the name, which was long enough.
     West Garrick-Allen Green.  Four last names.  Astounding.  But she had
borne them well.
     She had borne everything well.
     He had wanted to leave lilacs.  She liked lilacs, and they were like
here -- one day they just exploded and were everywhere, and the next week
they were gone.
     So fast....
     He saw the caretaker shuffling past.  He put his arms up and primed
his defenses, like he always did.  "You can't get the drop on me that
easily!" he half-shouted.
     "Oh!" Old Joe said, startled.  He raised his arms and laughed.  "Oh...
oh...."  He started shaking his head.  "I didn't see you come in, Mister
Green.  Sure I didn't see you come in."
     "How are you, Joe," he asked, shutting the field down.  The old man
couldn't hurt Mike if he had a missile, but Mike always kept his guard up.
Joe deserved that much.
     "Not badly, not badly.  Careful, Mister Green, don't mat down the
grass.  It's a new strain I'm trying, I think she likes it."
     He looked nervous as he realized what he said.  "Oh, Mister Green -- I
didn't really--"
     "I know what you meant, Joe," Mike said, patting Joe on the shoulder.
"You're right.  I think she does like it."
     He sighed.  "I hear you have a new tenant," he said.
     "Oh yes, oh yes.  Come, I'll show you."  He moved off, and out of the
back quarter.  It was the least popular area -- there were unfashionable
types back there, but Joe worked extra hard to make it nice -- his way of
honoring Mike.
     Mike nodded to Bruce's grave as he passed, and followed Joe.
     Manny had a black tombstone -- all of Calforce did.  Black with silver
letters.  It had been Manny's idea, after all.  It was fitting.
     Mike tried to remember Manny back all those years before, but an old
man kept getting in the way of his memory.  How did Manny get so old?  Mike
wasn't old.  Not really.  Neither was Liz.
     Joe was, of course.
     There was no space for a wife's stone, he noticed.  Well, that made
sense.  Chalandra wasn't going anywhere.
     "He seems to like it here," Joe said.  Joe wasn't as touchy about his
tenants when it wasn't Jane he was talking about.  At least, not with Mike.
     Mike nodded.  He was a little surprised Akane had a stone, now.  He
hadn't heard about her death.  A horrible series of events had taken
Akane... some sort of Parapsychological event changed her, and later she
went insane, trying to kill a little girl.  The Awesome Force had stopped
her, when they realized someone had subverted HAL.
     Healer tried to heal the traumas from Akane, but in the end all she
could do was `heal' the paranormalities and the parapsychological forces
from her body, so that she couldn't hurt anyone.
     And that had broken Akane completely.
     "Don't cry," Joe was saying.  "Mister Manny, he was great, but he
didn't want, oh don't cry Mister Green."
     Mike clapped Joe on the back.  "Someone has to," he said, and started
for the gate.  "Joe, I'll stop in again before I leave, all right?"
     "Sure.  Sure thing, Mister Green.  Sure thing.  I'll be here.  You
know I'll be here."
                                * * * * * *

     Chalandra vaguely felt herself trying to get the coat off.  A
lassitude was filling her, though.  She knew she was sinking.  Oh well.
     "Maybe it won't be so bad," Manny was saying.  She could hear him,
sort of.  "I mean, you'll be hungry for a while but so what?  You can
handle that."
     "Ya gotta go someday," Badass comforted her.  "Curse or no curse, when
your time comes, you just meet it with beauty."
     This is my time, Chalandra thought.  I'm dying.  Her hands were barely
fluttering, now, and she was sinking back down into Hell.
     "I tried to cheat my death," Akane said.  "And I suffered for it.  And
I was a vampire too.  Just let it happen."
     "We won't let you be alone," Manny said.  He was hugging her but of
course she couldn't feel it.  "We'll be right here."
     "Filming," Templer joked.
     "What's happening?" Kent said.
     "She's going down," Eivandt replied.
     "It wasn't our fault!" Key and Yury chorused.  It was so nice to hear
them again.  So nice to be going home.  She didn't feel Faith anywhere, but
he was always a little distant after Akane's... problems -- even twenty
years later, he seemed...incomplete.
     "Typical."
     That voice startled her.  She looked around for it.  Kid Solipsism --
Eric Shapiro.  Faith's brother.
     She tried to speak, but she couldn't.
     "I can't believe I came up with *this* for an ending.  Ah well.
Whatever."
     Didn't he understand?  She had been trying for so long.  There was
nothing left up there....  Nothing at all....
     And she realized her hand was closed on something hard.  A rectangle.
     The DataPad.
     "'Bout time you noticed," Jaz said to her.
     "Hey, leave her alone," Manny said.
     No Manny, she thought.  Don't stop her.  What does she mean.  What
does it--
     The truth.  That DataPad was a clue to the truth.  The real truth.
     And that truth was up there.
     Chalandra forced the coat off, grabbing the DataPad out first.  She
kicked, she wrestled.  She almost punched her way up.  The truth was up
there, and she would not die *wondering!*  And they were all with her, even
as they faded back into the delirium they had come from.  And she knew they
loved her and they were letting her go--
     And she burst through the surface into the air.  Long-dead lungs
gasped and brought in the air to buoy her.  She was bobbing -- quite a way
out into the sea.
     She was alive.  Or undead, which was almost as good.
     Though she was starved and weak, she forced herself into a mist.  That
part of her that was underwater bubbled to the surface.  She was an idiot
-- if she had changed at the bottom, she'd have bubbled right up.
     No matter.  She pulled into her bat form and sang her song, looking
for land.  She found it and she swept into it.  The hard reflections off
the towers of the Plex guided her.  She navigated through the canyons.  She
was running off of pure will, but she would find....
     Home.  She crashed on her Sun Deck, and let herself go human.  She
staggered in -- dry, but bedraggled.
     The alarm was buzzing.  Sunrise was imminent.  She grabbed a pouch of
the synthetic blood and sucked it dry -- the taste was revolting -- far
worse than she had ever realized -- but she endured it.  It sank to her
stomach and took residence, and the dead heart beat long enough to let her
body feel the strength of it.
     She collapsed into the coffin, and stabbed the emergency seal.  The
lid pulled shut, hermetically, and the locks engaged.  She felt the sun's
rise, and she knew the long night was over.


<<The characters used herein appear by permission of their Authors.  The
events of this story should not be assumed to affect or portend anything
for those characters beyond the confines of this story>>