🚀 go-pugleaf

                                 [Part Two]

     "My Mother and Sister?  But how did you know about them?"
     Trashman steepled his hands and arched an eyebrow.  "You described their
disappearance from your and your mother's life in one of the transcripts I have
from your interviews with Doctor Blue."
     Trudy tried to remember telling Doctor Blue about that night in the hotel
room.  She vaguely could, but trying to remember the sessions with Doctor Blue
was hard.  It was part of the store of memory she tried not to remember.  "So
what did you learn?"
     "Well, I assume you don't know what year it was when your father took you
and didn't bring them?"
     "Right.  It's all kind of a haze."
     Trashman nodded.  "I'll be blunt.  Two female bodies, their faces caved
in, apparently with a brass lamp, were found burnt beyond recognition in a
hotel room in the outskirts of Topeka, Kansas six years ago.  Dental records
were useless, finger and palmprints were gone, and DNA traces didn't identify
them.  However, hair samples, eye color, approximate age and mass match your
sister and mother, and the room they were found it was part of a burnt suite
which had been let out to a man and wife, and two children.  It is my
assumption that in his anger, he killed your mother while your sister watched ,
then killed her, and made certain their bodies couldn't be identified before
setting fire to the room and taking you away."  His voice was dispassionate,
but his eyes stayed on hers.
     Trudy let the news sink in.  She found she wasn't surprised.  It was just
one last tie to her past now broken.  But she didn't feel adrift.  Not any
more.  "All right," she said.  "I understand."
     Trashman nodded.  "Next, Andy Awesome has sent me a request, asking that
the data the M.I.B. collected centering on your biochemical and paranormal
development be forwarded to him, as we now know it was his experiment that gave
you your powers.  I told him the data belonged to you, and therefore it was
your decision as to who gets it."
     Trudy stared at the tapes.  "Just the biochemical parts?  Nothing about
the -- none of the rest?"
     "Of course."
     Trudy kept staring for a long time, before she shook her head.  "No," she
said.  "I don't want him to have them."
     "Are you sure?  It could be useful if you ever develop problems."
     Trudy nodded.  "I... I don't know how it was that I survived when I drank
the stuff, but however it was... I don't want people learning about it.  I want
to be the only Unorthodox Girl.  I -- I hope you--"
     "My feelings are irrelevant, Trudy.  It is your body.  I assumed that
would be your response when you sent me the changes to your will."
     Trudy nodded.  "I... I just...."
     "You don't want to be a test subject.  That is your right.  Upon death,
you will be cremated without autopsy, and the ashes disposed of."
     Trudy smiled again.  "Thank you."
     "Of course."
     Trudy waited a long time before deciding to open the subject Trashman had
alluded to, but not really brought up.  "So now you know."
     "Know what?"
     "How I got my powers.  That I lied to you when I joined."
     "My dear, I knew you were lying when you were doing it.  `Spirit of
Unorthodoxy?'  Don't be ridiculous."
     "Oh.  I guess.  Then... why did you take me?"
     Trashman sighed slightly, and turned to the window.  "Because Kent wanted
you, and I trusted his judgement."
     "You trusted *Mighty* *Guy's* judgement?"
     "Yes."  Trashman turned back and faced Trudy.  "Don't underestimate Kent
Clark.  He's not really stupid.  It's just that his thought processes are so
fast, they outrun his thoughts.  But his instincts said `trust her.'  So I
assumed they would prove right, and they have."
     Trudy shook her head.  "I... I don't know what to say."
     "Well, I know what you can say."
     "What?"
     "You can explain to me, for me, the last piece of the puzzle.  You can
tell me *why* you drank that experiment.  Why you took a risk like that.  Why
you snuck after us and stowed away on the Crimson Permanent Assurance on our
trip to Xolchipalia."
     "You mean you don't know?  Really?"
     "No.  Should I?"
     Trudy stared at Trashman for a long time, before bursting into laughter.
It was close to hysterical, and she laughed so hard she fell on the floor.
     "Trudy!  Are you all right?  What is it?"  Trashman vaulted his desk and
took her in his arms.
     "You... you really don't know, do you?" she wheezed.  "You're really
clueless, mister Dumpster Detective?"
     "Trudy, what is it?"
     Trudy got control of herself and looked Trashman right in the eye.  "Bruce
Rogers," she said, "I drank that stuff and followed the A.L.U. to another
planet because the first moment I saw you, my panties nearly caught fire from
the heat."
     Trashman absorbed her words, and cocked his head for a moment before their
meaning sunk in.  He turned almost purple.  "You mean... you... and I...."
     "What can I say?  Jumpsuits make me hot."
     "I -- oh my... uh...."  Trashman let go of Trudy, absolutely flustered.
"You... that is -- oh God."
     "Bruce -- are you actually embarrassed?  Did I find the one thing that
could crack the Trashman's armor?"
     "You're serious?  You were -- you're not anymore, are you?"
     Trudy laughed again, a little more wistfully.  "No," she said.  "No I'm
not.  I think what really attracted me was... well, how dedicated you were.
How noble.  How you wouldn't yield what you believed in.  That was... look,
you've read the reports.  You know about my past?"
     "What part?"
     "You know what part."
     "Pretend I don't."  Trashman's flush had vanished, and his face was
serious.
     "All right.  You know that..."
     "Yes?"
     Trudy closed her eyes.  "That my father raped me when I was sixteen years
old."
     Trashman's arm slipped around Trudy's shoulders.  "Yes I do," he said.
"But I get the feeling that's the first time you've ever said it aloud."
     "Well, yeah.  It was.  Anyway... you were... I don't know.  My father's
opposite.  I wanted a part of that.  I was hungry for it.  And after he was
taken in, and I was alone, I had nothing left to lose.  So I went for it."
     "I understand."
     "But I got so much more," she blurted, and looked away.
     "What do you mean?"
     "I... have a home.  Roots.  Friends who didn't give up on me.  Hope.  I
have a life that I like, now.  My father didn't kill that... and the M.I.B.
didn't take it away from me."
     "Nothing could.  Do you know how proud I am to serve with you?"
     Trudy's head snapped around, and stared at Trashman.  "Me?"
     "You.  Trudy... this has to stay in this office... but of all the members
of this team, you're the only one who could have survived that experience."
     "What?"
     Trashman nodded.  "Oh, Kid Solipsism could have, but only because he
wouldn't believe in it.  And I like to think I could have, but I'm not
objective with myself.  But Spandex Babe, the Dash, the Masked Bruce... Trudy,
none of them, not even Dianna, have the background to endure that kind of
horror.  It would have broken them.
     "But you survived it.  You had it in yourself to survive but not yield."
     Trudy stared into space.  "Did I?  I just did what you said.  I kept
looking for the reason why.  Why they did each step.  What their goals were.
That gave me the weapons I needed to make it though."
     "Maybe I gave your will a form, but it was your will.  I'm proud of you,
Trudy Unorthodox."
     "Galloway."
     Trashman arched an eyebrow.
     "My father changed our names.  I don't want to be associated with that any
more.  My name... my real name... is Trudy Galloway."
     "I'll have it put through.  Your code name?"
     "Still Unorthodox Lass.  Or Girl.  Depending on the placement."
     "Right."  He stood and took out two glasses.  "I don't know about you, but
I need a drink."
     "I'm underage."
     "You're a damn sight more adult than most adults.  If we're going to let
Mike Green drink, we may as well let you drink."  He handed her a glass of an
amber liquid, and raised his own.
     She nodded, and they drank.  She took the whole shot in one, swallowing as
quickly as possible.
     She then slowly sat, and let her mouth water, her eyes ache, and her body
shiver.
     "I should have warned you," Trashman said with a smile.  "Bourbon can do
that to you."
     "Bourbon.  I thought you drank Scotch."
     "Depends on the day.  But the Scotches *I* drink will do that to you too."
     Trudy shook her head.  "Hey, Dianna's buying me dinner, and the rest of
the gang seems to be along for the ride -- except for Dani, who I haven't
seen."
     "Dangerousgirl's staying with Relativity Woman until Dangerousman gets out
of the hospital.  I'm afraid she isn't speaking to me right now."
     "I won't ask.  Anyway... would you come too?  I'd... I'd like to have you
there."
     "Of course."
     "Thanks.  You... seem to understand.  You accept me."
     "The others don't?"
     "The others... are making so much of a deal out of proving that they
accept me that it feels like a rejection."
     "I understand.  I would be honored.  Uh, you're not still, um... attracted
to me, are you?"
     "Only in a cheap, lusting way.  I can overcome those feelings."
     Trashman nodded, relieved.  Trudy laughed.
     It felt good.
                          *** Epilogue the First ***

     The wolf collapsed.  He had run far, and he was tired.  He would die free,
but it would still be death.  There was no pack to return to.
     *Friend*.
     The Wolf once called Buck raised his head.  And he saw the people.  His
tail twitched.  He was with friends.
     "Man," High Jinx said.  "Is this one of the ones they--"
     "Yes," Matches-Wits-With-Cougars said.  "He escaped.  The others are being
carried far away, broken."
     "Well, I'm just glad I was able to help you--"
     "We are glad too.  We wish you could stay."
     "Me too... I mean, using my Weirdness Magnet as a beacon was funky, but
fun.  But I have to get back to my friends.  Good luck!"
     Matches-Wits-With-Cougars nodded, and watched as the hero left.
     Behind her, a thousand pairs of eyes watched as well.
     They were ready, now.

                          *** Epilogue the Second ***

     Doctor Green grumbled.  She was trying to set up her equipment in the Nova
Scotia safe house, but it wasn't going well.  Slammed her fist against the
table.
     She knew what it was.  It wasn't the wolves.  It wasn't Buck.  It wasn't
the move.
     Kim.
     She had heard rumors -- but they were nothing compared to the reality.
She had watched him change... grow....
     He wasn't human.  He was a wolf, in the form of a human.
     She wanted him.  She wanted his body, his touch, his child....
     His soul.  He would be the ultimate subject.
     And he would be hers.

                          *** Epilogue the Third ***

     Special Special Agent Richard Less walked into the Warden's office at the
Really-Really-Hard-To-Get-Out-Of-Place.  The office was a front, of course.
The Warden wasn't just a prison warden.  He was also the Director of the Mega-
Intelligence Bureau.  He had called Less in.  Special Special Agent Thomas Kim
was also supposed to be at that meeting.  Less couldn't wait.
     One less impediment removed.
     He walked into the inner office.  The Director was there, in the shadows.
So was Kim.  Special Agent Pongress was right behind him.
     "Richard," the Director said.  "Thank you for coming."
     "No problem," Less said.  "That will be all, Pongress."
     "Actually, Pongress is staying," Kim said, with a hint of a smile.  It was
a predator's smile.
     Less felt a sudden jolt of fear.  "What is this?" he asked.  "Sir--"
     "Richard," the Director said in his causal way, "I read your report on the
PUS Situation."
     "Yes sir.  Uh, I think maybe we should discuss that in private?"
     "Come now, Richard.  Kim is a Special Special Agent... anything you could
say to me, you could say to him.  And Pongress has been assigned as Kim's
Executive Assistant."
     "Sir?"
     "Now, there are a few things we need to discuss, Richard.  For instance,
are you aware that right after your arrival at the Hartford Laboratory... a
transmission was detected?"
     "A transmission, sir?"
     "Yes, someone sent... something.  We don't know what, or to who.  A few
hours after that, you left, rather in a hurry... and then the Adjusted League
Unimpeachable attacked, right after you moved on."
     "I... I didn't... I didn't need to be there any longer."
     "And why were you there in the first place, again?"
     "What?  The dogs -- wolves.  The Metawolves.  I needed to check on the
pursuant to the Whitewater operation."
     "Ah yes, of course.  Of course.  You see, Kim?  It's all very appropriate
and above board."
     "I had no doubt it would be, sir," Kim said, smirking.
     "That will be all, gentlemen."  The Director turned in his chair,
dismissing his subordinates.  Less, Kim and Pongress walked out.
     "A word, Tom?" Richard asked.
     "Sure.  Pongress, I'll be along.  Save me a seat at the cafeteria."
     "Right."  The Special Agent left.
     The two regarded each other in silence.
     "Cute," Less said finally.
     "I thought so," Kim replied.
     "We're even, you know.  On paper, you screwed up my Dangerousman project
and I screwed up your Unorthodox project."
     "I know that."
     "Except you haven't a prayer at the top spot."
     "I don't.  Neither do the other two junior Special Special Agents.  It's
you and Karina, now."
     "And you've decided who you're behind, I take it."
     "Well let me put it this way."  He smiled a feral smile.  "I'd rather see
Dan Quayle back as the head of the Bureau than let you have it."
     "Careful what you say -- you never had to work with him."  Less smiled
too.  "All right, Kim.  Line up behind Ms. Selanova.  I'll enjoy watching you
fall with her."
     "Until the next round."  Kim turned his back on Less and walked away.
     Less slipped his hand on his service revolver.  The special one, with the
silver bullets.  He looked at the space between Kim's shoulder blades.
"Indeed," he whispered.

                          *** Epilogue the Fourth ***

     The two guards were sitting just outside Olson's cell.  They spoke loudly
enough for Olson to hear, trying to provoke a reaction.  Olson just stared into
space, not reacting at all."
     "That was a fast trial," the first said.
     "They had the bastard dead to rights.  Abuse, torture, kidnapping,
misappropriation... a real mess."
     "He didn't even fight.  Pled guilty to everything."
     "Yeah.  Shmuck.  Attacking a kid like that.  The Adjusted League's a
buncha straight shooters.  To think he thought he could get away with it."
     "Well, I heard the scuttlebutt of what they're gonna do to him.  Are you
ready for this?"
     "Shoot.  It couldn't be bad enough.  Hanging's too good for scum like
this."
     Olson didn't move.  Didn't react.  He just sat there, waiting.
     "Hey Olson!  You!  You wanted to play in the big leagues, huh?  Play with
the Superguys?  Well you got it, pal -- I hear they're sending you *straight*
to the Really-Really-Hard-to-Get-Out-Of-Place.  How you like them apples, huh?
You wanna be a supervillain, you're gonna be one!"
     If one looked carefully, one could see what looked like a smile on Olson's
face.  But it was probably a trick of the light.

                                  Postscript

     The crowd sauntered into the building.  Even Jane could join them on this
night out -- testing the portable radio version of her Stereo Knopler
equipment.  It let her go out as herself, but didn't have all the bugs worked
out of it yet.
     "I can't believe you got us Billy Joel tickets," Dianna said.  "On no
notice at *all*"
     "What?" asked Jane, turning to look at Dianna.
     "It was nothing," Bruce said.  "I own the arena."
     "What?" asked Jane, turning to look at Bruce.
     "Play us a soooooooong, I'm the Piano Man!" Mike sang.
     "What?" asked Jane, turning to look at Mike.
     "It was a lot of fun," Elizabeth said.
     "Wh--mmmmmm" asked Jane, before her mouth was blocked by a kiss from Mike.
     "It was a blast," Trudy said.  "I've never been to a concert before."
     "*Never*?" asked Dianna.  "You my dear are deprived?"
     "Or depraved.  One or the other," Trudy said, laughing.
     "Well," Bruce said. "I need some sleep, Dianna needs to recover from
paying for all our dinners, and Mike and Jane need to get a room."
     "*That* I heard," Jane said.
     "What?" asked Mike, turning to look at Jane.  She swatted him.
     "Right.  See you in the morning, folks."  Trudy headed for the elevator.
     "Six a.m. tomorrow," Bruce called.  "Refresher hand to hand.  Bring your
sweats and bandages of your own choice."
     "Right," Trudy called back.
     "And don't forget -- `Silas Marner!'" Mandy yelled as the doors shut.
     "All right, all right!"  Trudy laughed.  Did Mandy think she was a kid,
who'd try to get out of it?  The elevator took her to her floor, and she walked
into her room.
     It smelled good -- the air was fresh.  It looked the same -- which is to
say hideous, like the rest of the building.  "JOEL," she said.  "Music.  Zevon.
Raspberry Beret."
     <<Sure.>>  The music kicked in, Trudy sang along, walking to the window.
     Lights all across the city.  The Prudential building in the distance....
     The shakes started, and trudy had to grab the windowsill to keep from
falling.  The words faded from her lips, she barely heard the music.  "I'm all
right," she said.  "I'm... all... right...."
     She felt a thousand jumbled thoughts flood her.  "JOEL, Privacy Mode," she
demanded.  <<You got it,>> he said, and disconnected.  She sank to the floor,
pressed against the cold concrete of the wall and sobbed, all alone, in her own
room.

                                    The End

         (with thanks to Dominic White, Gary Olson, Bill Dickson, and
                             Dr. Roland A. Burns)