🚀 go-pugleaf

     "Report to AA Testing/Training Center 11B."
     The message had startled Helen.  She had never heard of anyone
being pulled out of work to go to the testing center.  What could Mikey
have done?  Was Bob pulled from the foodpack processing plant level too?
     "Ma'am," the Runner said.  "We have to go."  He was a Gamma, and
obviously uncomfortable in the Delta workplant.  "Come along."
     "This is gonna leave me short," ProjHead Dennehey said, eyes
darting furtively.  "You take her an' production will drop below Mean.
I got three on DisOut an' another two are probates.  What you trying to
do, here."
     "Sir," the Gamma said, "I have to bring her to the Testing Center.
You got the authorization E-Msg."
     "Look, I don't care what authorization you got.  I have a quota--"
     "Delta-Cit Richard Dennehey, if you refuse me access to and removal
of Delta-Cit Helen Taylor, I will be forced to report the infraction to
my superiors, and to the Center Department Head's office.
     Helen's heart jumped.  What had Mikey done?  No one had mentioned
DefSquad yet, but that could have been next, she knew.  ProjHead was
nervous, now.  He was as high as he could go in Delta.  He was used to
having his will carried out.  He was *not* used to having a Gamma come
in and threaten him.
     Helen knew whatever happened, she would suffer from this.  You
didn't get Dennehey mad and get away clean.  That's assuming she was
coming back at all.
     "Yeah," ProjHead said.  "Yeah yeah -- you take her.  Look, Sir.  No
one said you couldn't have her.  I didn't mean you couldn't have her.
I'm just saying, you know, I got a quota here.  Am I excused for her
absence for this quota, here?  I got three on DisOut, an' two Probates
and they never do it right -- I work good with Probates, so they send me
more, you know?"
     "Those are questions for your supervisor, Delta-Cit.  I have to get
going."  The Runner gathered Helen with his eyes and the two went to the
Lift.
     The lift doors shut.  The ActId beeped and Helen's name appeared in
orange.  Over it, the Runner's name appeared in Gamma-blue.  Michael
DeMarco, it said.
     "My boy," Helen said, timely.  "His name -- it's Michael too."
     The Runner failed to hear her.  "Level Up Nine," he said.
     Up Nine appeared on the display, in blue.  A Gamma level.  A blue
line box appeared around Helen's name.  Awenet recognized her
Authorization to go with the Runner, of course.  Helen had never been on
a Gamma Level, before.  She looked around....
     It was so much *cleaner.*  She noticed a Datastand -- the PornChip
titles were behind the vendor -- himself a Delt like herself.  At the
Datastand on Down One Monorail Station the PornChips were out front,
where they could be easily accessed.
     "This way," the Runner said, guiding her through the crowd.  The
Gammas seemed to duck out of their way -- maybe the Runner was so
important.
     No, Helen saw the looks on the faces of the Gammas.  they weren't
making way for the Runner.
     They boarded a long, thin AirSkiff.  Helen trembled as they made
their way Aft to the LeastSeats.  They slipped into Seats Gamma Nine and
Eleven, according to the blue notes on the seats forward.  Their names -
- the blue Authorized boarder around her's still -- appeared on the
screens on the backs of the forward seats.
     "Stop shaking," the Runner said, as he called up an Entertainment
menu.  "Watch a Prog.  Order a drink.  Do something."
     "I....  I have never been in--"
     "There's nothing to worry about.  Enjoy it."  The Runner sounded
vaguely disgusted.  Helen felt the seat shift and knew they were
airborne.  She had expected noise or something.
     A Delta-Cit came by with a ceracan of whiskey.  She handed it to
the Runner.  Helen looked up at her.  "Excuse--"
     "Should you be in that seat, Delta-Cit?" the steward asked.
     "She's authorized," the Runner said, looking out his window.  Helen
wished she could see out the window.  She had never flown before.
     "How...how do I get one of those?" Helen asked, pointing to the
whiskey.
     "Key it on your menu," the Delt said, and pointed to the icons at
the bottom of her screen.  Helen called up the Food Icon, and notices
she had been assigned Secure 10.50 to spend.  She glanced at the Runner,
who nodded.
     Helen had never had Secure, before.  She didn't know if the cred
would have to go towards all of her food, or if she'd have to pay it
back.  She finally selected a Scotch for 3.75.  The Delt pulled it out
of her chiller, and handed the cerecan to Helen, before she moved on.
     The AirSkiff seemed to have regular stops.  It seemed to be the way
wealthy Gammas and Betas travelled.  At one of the stops, Helen saw Bob
and another Runner take LeastSeats somewhat forward of them.  She wanted
to call out, but decided she would get in trouble.
     The Runners took Helen and her husband off the Skiff at their stop
-- the Double-A Testing and Training Center 11B.  They were high up --
easily on the thirtieth level or more.  Helen avoided going neat the
catwalk edge, and saw Bob was avoiding it to.
     She leaned close to Bob.  "What's going on?" she whispered.
     "Dunno," Bob said.  "Shut y'face."
     The two were lead down a long corridor.  On either side, in huge
rooms of glass, they could see the different levels of children being
trained and taught.  Behind azure glass the Gamma learned.  Behind amber
glass the delts learned.  Behind a brownish glass the Kappas learned.
     At the end of the hall was a lift which they got in.  The ActId
recognized them.  All four had grey line boxes around their names.  Beta
authorization.  Helens' heart nearly stopped.
     "Level one-twelve," the Runner who was with Bob said.  The lift
began to rise.  Once the car stopped for a Beta, but he decided to take
the next.It opened on a Beta Level.  Everything looked and smelled clean
and orderly.  Helen felt...gross.  Misshapen.
     They went to an office, where a Gamma Recep looked them over.  She
checked the ActId screen on her desk -- no doubt Awenet had already
listed why the were there.
     She pressed a stud on her desk.  "Beta-cit Daigle?  The Taylors are
here."
     She nodded then, receiving instructions over her earclip, probably.
"You can go in," she said.
     The Runners led Helen and Bob in, and then left.  They were
alone...with Beta-cit Daigle.
     Daigle was a thin man.  He stood and indicated two chairs.
"Please," he said, smiling.  "Sit down."
     They sat.  Helen couldn't help staring at the ActId clipped to
Daigle's right breast pocket.  Grey edged, like all Betas.  Holoface.
"Daigle, Rene R.  00899411317B"
     Daigle also sat down.  He pressed a few buttons on his system.
"Coffee good for you two?" he asked amiably.  Helen and Bob both nodded.
Who would say no?
     "Good.  Master and Mistress Taylor, I have a pretty rewarding job.
I am the Executive Assistant Head of Testing Procedures here at Eleven
B.  That means I oversee the testing and development of all the children
of the district, including your son Michael.  But this is my favorite
part of the job."
     "Beta-cit," Bob said.  His voice was shaking, and Helen knew he was
scared, too.  "Mikey -- he's a good kid.  Real good.  He didn't make
trouble, did he?"
     Daigle laughed, and that scared Helen even more.  "No no.  God no.
Michael's not in any trouble."
     Just then the Recep brought in a carafe of coffee, with packets of
neosugar and creamer.  She poured three cups, and asked about tastes.
Helen took three creamers and a sugar.  Bob was black.  Daigle just said
`Regular,' and the Recep dropped one creamer and one sugar in, and then
left.
     Daigle sipped.  "No, this is good news.  We've been testing
Michael's development.  He's always been advanced.  We've finally seen
just where he lies.  According to his creativity index and his projected
Intellect Factor, we have been approved to upgrade Michael to a Beta-
Citizen."
     Daigle paused to let the shock settle in on the Taylors.  He then
continued.  "I love to upgrade when I can -- our whole system depends on
those with the ability being allowed to have the opportunity.  A two-
grade upgrade like this is rare -- and very special.  You two should be
very proud."
     "A Beta," Bob said, a grin spreading over his face.
     "So what will happen to him?" Helen asked.  She couldn't shake a
sinking feeling in her belly.
     "Well, he's to be transferred to the Skidmore Retraining Center.
They'll begin acclimating him for his new role and reeducating him.
He's already on his way."
     "We don't get to see him," Helen asked.
     "Well," Daigle said, "I know how you feel, but it is very important
that Michael's trauma be minimized.  The changes in his life are pretty
wide reaching, as you can imagine.  We have to make sure he doesn't get
scarred by these experiences.  So, we're regulating his environment in a
controlled manner.  You understand."
     "Sure, sure," Bob said.  "You know best, Beta-cit.  A Beta.  Isn't
that something.  Isn't that just the top."
     "His things--" Helen murmured.
     "Oh, of course," Daigle said.  "they'll be Runners dropping by.
Pack whatever you think he'd like.  We'll have to select which are
appropriate, so don't be shy about it.  Now, I have to process a few
things, so why don't you two head out.  Our Mistress Pinafore will be
bringing you out to Lunch at the Outreach.  Just a celebration.  Oh, and
your Reproductive Licenses have been upgraded to two children -- we want
to see if your genetic matrices form another Michael, I guess."  He
laughed.  "So you can have your Sterility reversed, Mistress Taylor.  If
you conceive within sixty-five days, you can keep the two-bed flat, of
course.  Ah, Genny.  Come in."
     Genny Pinafore was a Gamma -- probably an eduproctor.  "Master and
Mistress Taylor," she said.  "I'm so happy for you.  Michael's been a
joy to work with--"
     "Yes yes," Daigle said.  "Congratulations all.  Genny, take care of
them."  There was dismissal in his voice.  The three left, and went down
the lift.
     "A Beta," Bob said.  "Just wait 'till I tell the guys.  Man oh man.
Hey, I might be upgraded to AsstViceProjHead for this.  It could happen.
I seen it happen for less."
     "It well might," Gamma-cit Pinafore said, leading them back down
the hall to the Landing Dock.  "After all, you must be genetically
pretty special yourself."
     Helen watched the children behind the amber glass.  Some of them
looked four or five, playing with shaped blocks.  Just like Michael.
They had to speak to her to keep her moving.




                                  2035

                  A Decidedly Different Superguy Story

                                   by
                            Eric Alfred Burns

                               Chapter Two




     Chalandra stared at Andy Awesome, shocked beyond either her pain or
her grief.  "You...you're dying?"
     "Yes.  All of us.  Well, all we can find.  Ramrod disappeared some
twenty years ago, after High Jinks died."
     "How?"
     "Radiation poisoning."  Andy looked out over the graves of
Fiddler's Green, and walked to a large obsidian slab, etched with gold.
"MacPherson" was written across it's top, with "Beloved Husband Lars"
and "Beloved Wife Marjorie" underneath, to either side.  Lars had an
edged gold mushroom cloud under his name and the dates, Marjorie had a
female figure with gold speedlines that blended to silver at their ends.
     "Dangerousman had something to do with it?  The battle with
Cthulu?"
     "No, not the P'Tonic Crystal Affair," Andy said.  "Much earlier.  A
combination of Dangerousman's radiation and a chemical accident gave us
our powers.  All tests seem to indicate that radiation settled into our
bone marrow.  About twenty years ago, it began to create a
degeneration."  Andy laughed almost bitterly.  "High Jinks was on his
way East to be tested, when CaLForce blew his blimp up."
     Chalandra turned away.  "I'd prefer you not use that name, Andy."
     "Oh dear -- I *do* apologize, Chalandra.  I--"
     "Manny hated that.  He hated that the Californian Liberation Force
had coopted Calforce's name.  He kept threatening to recall the members
-- to reunite and hunt the impostors down."
     "He did more than threaten.  He signaled me many times, and tried
to arrange it."
     "He did?" Chalandra asked, surprised.
     "Yes.  I hated turning him down.  Who would he call, though?  Akane
had gone insane, Faith was gone, Mighty Guy dead, Criticalman dead, Key
and Yury dead...there was you, Badass, Kid Solipsism, Manny, Eviandt,
and Healer -- and most of you had lost most of your powers.  Then Eric
Shapiro fell into a coma, Eviandt was killed, Badass died...and
Healer--"
     "Let's... not discuss Healer," Chalandra said.  "So...Superuser
must not be suffering the damage."
     "I assume he isn't," Andy said stiffly.
     "You two still aren't talking?"
     "Not for close to thirty years.  Not since Jake, JOEL, and HAL
sacrificed themselves to create Awenet."  Andy shook his head.  "I...
hope he'll come for the Convention.  Will you be there?"
     "Of course.  Manny...had been looking forward to it.  Who else are
we expecting?"
     "The Awesome Force members who feel up to it, Trudy, Dan, Pinky,
Dr. Less...."
     The caretaker edged near, snipping errant growths off the Bonsai
Tree planted over Kent Clark's grave.  Chalandra glanced at him, then
did a double take.  "Andy -- do we know him?"
     "Yes.  I'm sorry -- I thought you knew.  Working here has done
wonders for him."
     "I want to talk with him."
     "Chalandra--"
     "Andy...."  She turned and looked at him.  He was so tired looking.
He had obviously suffered -- but he still cared so much.  "Go home to
your children, Andy.  I'll see you next month, at the convention."
     Andy nodded, and the two embraced.  Chalandra could still feel
Andy's awesome strength in that body.
     He turned and walked away.
     Chalandra walked to the caretaker, who glanced up.
     "Excuse me," he said, rising and backing away.  She could clearly
read the blue edged Active ID -- blue edged with the Probate's band.
"Phoot, Joseph," it read.
     "Wait," Chalandra said.  "I...wanted to talk to you."
     Joe shifted uncomfortably, picking at the acne scars on his face.
"There's...why?"
     "Because....  Because you're part of us, Flatphoot."
     Joe's face twitched at the name.  "There's no Flatphoot.  He's
dead, ma'am."  He glanced at his shoes.  "Mr. Awesome, he fixed me up,
good.  Yes sir.  He gave me new feet, practically."
     "Joseph--"
     "Joe, Ma'am."
     "Joe...."  She didn't know what to say.  He had to be at least
seventy, and he sounded more than a little senile.  He seemed to be
crippled.  How many times had he had bones broken?  How much suffering
had he known?  Seeing him almost hurt more than seeing Elizabeth.
     "Mr. Awesome, he got me this job," Joe said.  "Good Job, for a
Gamma-Probate.  Mr. Awesome, he thought I'd like to be here.  Be around
them.  Around my friends."
     "Your friends?" Chalandra whispered.
     "Yeah....  All my friends.  It's fitting, isn't it?  Isn't it?  Me
taking care of their graves.  Fitting.  I'd dance on them if I wanted,
wouldn't I.  But I won't."
     "Why not?" Chalandra said, turning back.  Why don't you hate us
enough to dance on our graves, she didn't say.
     Joe shifted again.  "'Cause they're my friends," he said.  "I... I
was a nobody until they came.  I was a nobody.  And now that they're
dead... I'm a nobody again.  Nobody.  Who needs a Supervillain without
heroes?  We needed each other."
     He looked up, and his eyes gleamed for a moment with intelligence.
"I needed you... I needed you all.  And now you're all going away.
You're all dying and I can't even save you."
     Joe turned and shuffled away.  Chalandra wanted to call to him --
to stop him.  She wanted to invite him to the Convention.  Less would be
there -- why not Phoot?  She wanted to make love to him.  She wanted to
kill him.
     Chalandra turned and fled.


                               * * * * * *


     "Pay attention," Bill snapped.  "We don't have all afternoon."
     "Right -- like we have to be anywhere," Brenda said, rolling her
eyes.  "We're mind-numbingly rich, Dad."
     "Dohw!"
     "And what is that Dohw stuff.  You *never* tell me."
     "Later.  Listen, Brenda, this is important."  Bill pointed to the
Holodisplay.  "Once you settle inside the suspension chamber, the VR
interface will go online.  It'll seem like you're waking up."
     "And the armor will be my body?"
     "Right.  The framework is laced with Awetite, which will
autopolorize when you engage flight mode.  The thrusters will then carry
you much faster than any AirShip or Bulletproof model."
     "And the skin is that Awesomtonium/teflon coating I developed?" she
asked.
     "Yes."
     "Full guns," she said, grinning.
     "Bill," Liz said, storming into the workroom.  "We need to talk."
     "Yeah yeah.  Hang on a min, will-"
     "*Now*, Bill."
     Bill sighed.  "I wanted to be married.  Bren, give us a few, would
you?"
     Brenda nodded and slipped off her chair and out of her room.
     Bill looked defiant as Liz sat down next to him.  "I thought you
had given up on Ginsu World Class."
     "Well, you thought wrong."
     "Why, Bill?  What possible point would you have for this.  The
world doesn't need superheroes any more."
     "Bull."
     "It is *not* bull, you idiot!  Crime rates barely exist, now.  What
do you hope to accomplish with this new Awesome Force idea?"
     Bill felt the pain in his gut again.  He struggled to hide it from
his wife.  "The world needs heroes -- someone to look up to.  Someone to
believe in.  Someone who isn't shelling out a living for a corporate
buck."
     "Fancy talk for an Alpha Citizen.  How much Secure do we have this
month?"
     "I didn't ask Double-A for any of that.  But if I've got all this
credit I'm going to use it to make the world better."
     "Damn it, Bill -- this is futile!"
     "You're telling me?"
     "Ooooh!  Look -- if it's so damn important, why don't you or I fly
the armor?  Why risk Brenda?'
     Bill didn't answer.
     "Bill?'
     "Because... our nervous systems aren't fluid enough.  We're too
old."
     "Flu-- Bill.  You wouldn't.  Bill?  Bill -- you can't seriously be
thinking--"
     "Look, it's safe.  I wouldn't risk Brenda's--"
     "Safe?!  I refuse!  I categorically refuse to allow you to risk
Brenda through a Neuroput implantation.  Do you hear me?"
     Bill looked away.  Liz felt a cold hand clutch her heart.
"You...you didn't...."
     "Honey...."
     "Oh... you BASTARD!!!!"
     "Liz--"
     "*Brenda!!!!!*  Get in here!"
     Brenda came in.  "Mom -- cool your--"
     "Shut up!"  Liz grabbed Brenda and spun her around, feeling her
neck.
     "Whoa -- Mom.  Calm yourself down a little, would you?"
     Liz's fingers probed until they felt the small metal plates.
Brenda felt her mother's hands tremble.
     "Bill -- Andy told you Neuroputs were too damn risky to--"
     "Andy Andy Andy Andy ANDY!!!!" Bill said, pushing up.  He rocked,
nausea rising and almost forcing him to his knees.  He ignored the pain.
"Here's a newsflash, Missy.  Andy Goodwin wasn't always right.  Andy
Goodwin isn't perfect.  Andy Awesome is still a human being!"
     Liz, tears in eyes, ran out of the room.
     Bill sat back down, trembling.
     "Dad?" Brenda said.  "Are you okay?"
     "Yeah," Bill said.  "it's nothing.  Look -- I'm going to send the
assembly orders.  Monitor the requests, would you?"


                               * * * * * *


     Chalandra allowed herself to cry for a few minutes, after getting
in the AirYacht.  Carlson gave her that time before signalling back.
     "Yes," she said, shaking her head a little, to clear it.  She
looked at the blue of his name, on the Comm Screen.  Blue for Gamma.
Her name was Alpha red.  It looked almost shocking.  Blood colored.
     "Ma'am?  Shall we go?"
     "Yes.  Time to the Mansion?"
     "Five hours, thirty five minutes, ma'am."
     "What?  Akron to Los Angeles shouldn't take that long."
     "Yes, Ma'am -- but we've got a lot of traffic detours.  Awenet has
a pretty convoluted flight path for us."
     "How long to the Seattle apartment?"
     There was a pause.  "Two and a half hours to the AirPad.  Shall I
hire an AirDinghy to bring you home from there?"
     "No thank you.  I'll walk."
     Carlson broke the connection.  Chalandra looked out the window of
the AirYacht at the gateway to the Cemetery.  She didn't recognize the
statuette at the top -- a man playing a fiddle.  Some sort of Hero Andy
once knew, Manny told her the last time they were here.  When was that?
Oh yes -- Particle Woman's funeral, three months ago.  That one was sad
-- she was younger than most of them.  A CaLForce missile had blown
apart her apartment complex.
     CaLForce.  Would they eliminate any good attached to Calforce's
name?
     The AirYacht lifted silently, driven by the anti-gravity Awetite
framework -- and arced off.  Chalandra watched the moonlight painted
graveyard disappear below her.  She wondered how much of herself was
left behind down there with all her dead friends and lovers.  She
wondered how much of herself was left alive.




<<The Characters herein are used by permission of their Authors.  The
events herein should not be considered to affect said characters save in
the context of this story>>