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[Part Two]

                                 * * * * * *

--from "The Superguy Journal," #182:

                             Fanning the Flames:
                  The Fallout of the Industrial Revolution
                                     by
                                Nouveau Skunk

     <Editor's Note:  Nouveau Skunk is one of the foremost authorities on
     superguys and superheroes in general.  He is a regular contributor to
     "The Superguy Journal," and "World Superwatch," a noted commentator
     on Superheroic affairs on National Public Radio and TONN (The Other
     News Network), and the author of "Nouveau Skunk's Guide to Superguys"
     and "The Superguy Paradigm," both published by Macmillan Books>

          As the fires of the so-called Industrial Revolution fade, and
     the repercussions of the event begin to make themselves known, I have
     to wonder if this was merely the last in a series of events.  The
     last link in a chain that meant, deep down, the end of the age of
     innocence for the modern Heroic Age.
          These are legitimate concerns.  It was just such a series of
     events following World War II that saw the end of the last Heroic
     Age, as the Mystery Men of the thirties and forties, and the super-
     soldiers and heroes who fought the war found themselves in a world of
     darkness and suspicion -- victims of their own success.
          The roots of all these events could be found in the Magic Wars
     that wracked Japan some time ago, and which apparently led the way to
     Radian's so called ascension to near-omnipotence (ed note:  see
     "Hearing the Songs of Darkness" by the author, in TSJ #168).
          It was Radian's attempted magical takeover of the world which
     really paved the way to the self-destructive events of the Industrial
     Revolution, coupled with a general feeling of helplessness during the
     Satanic invasion of the Earth, where the fate of the planet had been
     given over entirely to alien forces and Dangerousman -- himself not
     the most trusted figure on the Superheroic scene.  A general anti-
     magic feeling, coupled with a need to take some form of positive
     action, led to a climate where Benedict's program of elimination
     would be well received.
          Benedict's program was enhanced, of course, by the endorsement
     of Bulletproof, whose charismatic presence and vocal championship of
     the individual served to make the cold, logical extermination of a
     class of humanity palatable.  That Bulletproof was in a delusionary
     state following a concussion did nothing to blunt his impact.
          The following "Revolution" and "Counter-Revolution" by the Magi
     symbolized the most profound schism in the Superheroic community to
     date.  Whereas before incidents like the Akron Incident might have
     caused superguy teams or individuals to oppose each other because of
     a lack of information or communication, the Industrial Revolution had
     close friends -- even teammates -- on both sides fighting against
     each other, all believing they were the heroes, their enemies were
     the villains, and that they had to fight with all their might to
     preserve what they held most dear.  In other words, all figures,
     revolutionary or counter-revolutionary, believed they were right.
     The black and white world of the Superguys had fallen into shades of
     gray.
          There were many profound signs of the schism.  One member of
     Team M.E.C.H.A. sided with the revolution, the rest with the Counter-
     Revolution, and in or around the battle the errant member critically
     injured and attempted to kill his leader.  The resulting crisis seems
     to have shattered Team M.E.C.H.A. entirely, and they have ended their
     formal association with each other.  Ginsu World Class -- believed to
     have previously been the `Ultimate Ginsu' of the Defense Squad --
     opposed Superuser, with who she had been romantically linked
     previously.  And perhaps least expectedly, Spandex Babe and
     Unorthodox Lass of the Adjusted League Unimpeachable both sided with
     the Revolutionaries against the Masked Bruce, also of the Adjusted
     League Unimpeachable, who had sided with the magi.  Reports indicate
     that the Masked Bruce himself defeated Spandex Babe, and was
     unusually brutal in his treatment of her.  Furthermore, Radian -- the
     woman Most Wanted world-wide -- was on the side of the Magi, fighting
     alongside the Awesome Force itself.  Public reaction to this fact has
     been virulent.
          The repercussions of the combat -- which had fatalities in the
     double digits -- are not yet known.  The Revolutionaries failed, but
     the `victory' was marginal -- certainly the Counter-Revolutionaries
     did not leave the field victorious so much as broken and battered.
     All sides were placed under arrest, but the Federal Government, for
     reasons as yet undetermined, released them all as having been under
     the hypnotic influence of an alien named "Dave Ross."  This is
     unsatisfactory to most members of the public, and how the normal and
     paranormal communities absorb the violations of trust engendered by
     the Industrial Revolution have yet to be seen.
          One thing is clear.  Nothing will ever be the same.

                                 * * * * * *

     Walking down the streets of Bob City was a figure almost anyone could
recognize.  She was called Spandex Babe -- a name at best demeaning -- but she
was one of the most powerful members of the prominent superteam the Adjusted
League Unimpeachable.  She was believed to be stronger than Andy Awesome
himself.  Her training was among the best in the world.  Her Neophotonic
arsenal made her formidable at range and capable of deflecting most assaults.
     Despite all of this, what most people who watched her pass thought as she
went by was that she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen.  It was
something she had dealt with for most of her career.
     Today, just an hour after the Federal Government had given amnesty to all
participants in the so-called Industrial Revolution, be they pro or anti-mage,
Spandex Babe couldn't care less what people thought about her.
     That wasn't quite true.  There were six people she cared very much about.
Six people whose opinion was more important to her than she had ever dreamed.
     Spandex Babe had to assume they hated her.  And she couldn't blame them.
     In the heat of battle, a lot of things happened that Spandex Babe could
never forget.  She had fought hard -- dirtied herself.  But she had believed
that by decisively defeating her opponents, they could control the process of
interdiction.  They could restrain and retrain the magi without further
bloodshed.
     And then Scholarman -- about as minor a mage as was in the fight -- limped
in and surrendered in behalf of the magi.  Surrendered in the name of reason.
Surrendered on the condition that it be to talk -- to work out what needed to
be done.  And Bulletproof shot him.
     She had been in shock, then.  Her base for support knocked out from her.
And then Andy Awesome had attacked her.  She had talked tough -- she had tried
to brazen it out, but it had almost swamped her.  It had all been going wrong.
     And then that mage -- Wilhelm -- had grabbed her.  He had said they had
hope.  That it could still work out.  And then--
     Spandex Babe stepped into the ATM kiosk.  She slipped the BayBank card she
kept in her belt-buckle out, and whispered her code-name.  Her finger began to
glow with neo-photonic light as she slipped the card in.  She held it in front
of the Security Camera -- no reason to connect the name Dianna Potentiate with
Spandex Babe in the record.
     She pulled out several hundred dollars and went in search of a clothier's.
It would be hard to find -- Bob City was in the middle of some hard times --
but she needed some Civvies before she could use her Visa and get passage home.
She wasn't up to using A.L.U. modes of travel.  Not today.

                                 * * * * * *

     Manchu Towers rose in the distance.  They were huge, and there was
something... unusual about their architecture.
     "Wow," Unorthodox Girl said, staring up at them.  "Those are wild."  She
was young -- eighteen years old, maybe.  But her eyes were hard.  She was
pretty without being beautiful, with short blond hair and grey eyes.  Her
uniform was black and white and made out of a special kevlar/polymer bond.  A
gift from Trashman.  It had no room for equipment, but she didn't carry her
equipment that way anyhow.  "Those are... weird."
     "Yup," her companion said.  He was trim and in shape, with straight brown
hair that was absolutely immaculate.  The uniform was red, with silver piping
and a uniform coat that looked like a really cool science fiction uniform, and
not at all geeky.  To his side was a low-slung holster with what looked like a
red crowbar in it.  On his lapel was a pin that read "XDF."  Over his eyes was
the domino mask that gave him his name.  He was the Masked Bruce.
     In the Revolution, they had been on opposite sides.  With its passing,
they were teammates again, at least for now.
     "So, where's the Xolchaportation Station in that thing?"  Unorthodox Lass
asked.
     "Room 4291a -- disguised as a law office.  It's also the official
Xolchaportation Station for the Extreme Team, but we've never informed them of
that."
     "Why not?"
     "Because their phone number's unlisted and no one knows how to get in
contact with them.  So it's sort of there.  I hope it's close to them."
     "Yeah.  Well, forty-second floor of A tower.  That seems easy enough."
     "Right," the Masked Bruce said.
     They stared at the two towers for another long moment.
     "So which one's A Tower?" Unorthodox Girl asked.  "That one says Tower I,
that one says Tower Omega."
     The Masked Bruce stared at the two another long moment.  "That one," he
said, pointing to Tower I.  They walked in the front lobby, found an elevator,
and pushed the Up button.

                                 * * * * * *

     With cash, and with a certain amount of notoriety, shopping was at once
simple and difficult.  Spandex Babe had managed to buy the London fog overcoat
and broad brimmed hat in short order, though she attracted quite a crowd doing
it.  It took her thirty-five minutes to escape from the crowd of her admirers,
and then, wearing the coat and hat, she was able to reach a different clothiers
in short order.
     Once inside, she was able to make the transformation from ill-concealed
celebrity to nobody.  She simply selected her purchases, being careful to blend
into the background, and then tried them on.  Her Spandex Uniform she hid in
the folds of her overcoat.
     The belt-buckle that held her ATM card also held a Rogers Foundation
American Express and a Visa Gold Card.  She was able to buy the skirt,
stockings, blouse and sportcoat without incident, and pumps that fit.  Three
doors down she bought a samsonite bag in which she stored her uniform and the
overcoat.  The hat she threw away.
     From there, Dianna Potentiate was a pretty but faceless woman on the
streets.  She too a cab to the airfield, and made her way to the Awesome
AirShips counter.

                                 * * * * * *

     The elevator doors opened, and the two stepped out.  The hallway was dark,
with an old moth-eaten carpet and wallpaper ten years out of style.  There was
a smell of old cigarette smoke.  A smell that reminded you of the good old
days, and also reminded you that they were dead.  From down the hall the two
could hear the sad song of a saxophone that was two years out of tune.
     "Masked Bruce?"
     "Yeah?"
     "Do you feel trapped in a Raymond Chandler novel?"
     "We're in Bob City.  It was a matter of time, really."
     "Oh.  Let's find the Xolchaportation station, before I break out in
cliches."
     The girl was right.  It was time to move on.  They had done what they
could, and now they had to collect their pay.  Nothing a day plus expenses
wouldn't bring home the bacon, but experience counted for a lot in this town.
     There were no signs on the wall, and if the door-numbers followed a
particular logic, it would have taken a lot of bourbon and a little thought to
find it.  Neither of the heroes had either.  They started right, for no good
reason, looking for the door that led to tomorrow, or at least put them in the
right direction for mid-afternoon.
     "Masked B?"
     "Yeah?"
     "I can't take much more pseudo-Bogart."
     "I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!"

                                 * * * * * *

     The composer paused.  He had the prelude, and the melody.  He had two
harmonic lines, heavy on the strings, with a good horn section.  What next.
     Counterpoint.  It needed counterpoint.
     He inked in the flutes.  Make it subtle for now.... subtle and quiet, more
a hint of things to come than a glaring interruption.
     The flute music seemed to swirl from the keyboard.  Swirl up above Manchu
Towers and Bob City.  Up above Warren Towers and Boston.  Into the blue sky and
into the cold black of space.  If you looked the right way, at the right angle,
you could see a ship plowing through Overly-Hyped Space.  The Oksana, if the
marking were accurate....
     M'yet of House Dukat shook himself awake.  It had been a nightmare. v A
nightmare of Hottentot soldiers, flying through the air and smelling of ozone
and hunting him down....
     No.  No, he wouldn't worry about it,  It would never happen.
     R'lla was still asleep.  That was good.  She had been sleeping better,
lately.  Ever since she had been hanging around that old Xolchipalian, she'd
been calmer,
     Like M'yet needed some former Exdef sticking his overly moral nose into
his business.  Especially since that business was illegal.
     It had happened almost accidentally.  M'yet had been playing around on the
System Network back home in his farmhouse on Planet South Dakota.  He had tried
a couple of obvious passwords on ImperialNet, only to find himself in Price
Consort Rad's personal account.  All of a sudden, he had access to unlimited
funds, and any information he could figure out the questions to ask for.
     He hadn't meant to become a thief, but then he had read the file on
Artifacts, and he had learned the codes....
     Some simple monetary transfers had gotten M'yet and himself on the Free
Trader Oksana.  From there the could travel roundabout to Planet Seattle.  And
from there....
     From there the stars.  From there, everything they could ever want.
     But then they met the old man.  Alec Guinness (Coincidence) of the Corps
of the Fifth, whatever the Hell (tm) that meant.  He seemed interested in where
they were going, and what they were doing, without ever implying that he had
any reason to be.  He wasn't Exdef -- the Xolchipalian Defense Forces --
anymore.  He was a free agent.
     And R'lla was very taken with him.  Very taken indeed.
     "You're mad," he whispered.  "There's nothing that can happen now.
Nothing at all."


[End of Part Two]