🚀 go-pugleaf

	The man waved the girls off as the bus drove away. He could see
them, sitting next to each other, waving and smiling out the window. On
the side of the bus were the words "BIC TRANSPORT", the name of the line
of the busses. Jen had laughed at that, thinking the bus didn't look much
like a ballpoint pen.
	He watched, satisfied, until the bus drove out of sight, then
pulled an antenna out of his forefinger and opened his palm.
	"VBot 23 reporting in as required. Both subjects en route to
undisclosed locale. Mission accomplished. Self destruct routine
initiated," he said calmly, then closed the communications device inside
his hand. He walked into the men's room.

			BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

	Jen settled herself into her moderately comfortable bus seat.
Stuffing her calculator between the cushions, she tried to find a position
in which her head would actually be -aligned- with her shoulders. Finding
that this was too much to ask, she turned to her friend Sonic, and started
to ask her something.
	Suddenly, a flash lighted up the sky, and the bus screeched to a
halt, pulling off the road. It was bright enough to light up the entire
bus, even through the tinted windows, and it seemed to originate from
their point of departure.
	"Ack! What was that??" exclaimed Sonic, craning her neck to look
out the back window.
	"Dunno," replied Jen, "But -"
	At that second, sound followed light and the charter bus shook
with the force of the explosion. Sonic held tightly to her seat, nearly
torn away by the sheer force of the sound waves. Both girls waited out the
rest of the noise, then relaxed when the bus started rolling again.
	"That came from the airport," said Sonic, looking at Jen.
	"I know," she replied.
	"The superguy..." said Sonic.
	"I know," said Jen, biting her lip and looking out the back
window. "I hope he's okay."
	The bus driver glanced back at the two suddenly quiet girls, and
proceeded to ignore them, concentrating only on getting to his
destination.



			      "The Last Fall"
		       The Bermuda Triangle Brainpack
				   AKA %N
				     #6
			      by Gina Donoghue
			      AKA Author Crash
			In Tribute To Those Before Me
		And in Memory of Fred Laudati: Teacher, Mentor,
				   Friend



	When Fogarty came to, he was in a small cell. He was laying on his
side on the floor, in the corner, and on the other side of the forcefield
he could see a small, slight figure. Since the dim blue glow from the
field wasn't particularly bright, that's about all he could make out,
other than the fact that the walls and floor were grey. He sat up slowly,
and winced as the bump on the back of his head throbbed. He leaned against
the wall, and waited until the figure on the other side noticed him.
	As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.
	"You!" cried the figure, seeing he was awake and flicking off the
field. It flew at him, arms outstretched and hands clearly going for his
throat. He quickly rolled to the side, and the figure missed him. Now he
could see that it was a girl - not particularly tall, and oddly
familiar...he got to his feet, stumbling slightly, and shook his head to
rid it of cobwebs. This reminded him that he probably had a concussion,
but doggedly he went on.
	"Who...?" he asked hoarsely, trying to see the girl better.
	She looked straight at Fogarty, hatred burning in her eyes. He
could see now who she was, and he was absolutely shocked - she was small,
as he'd seen, and her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She
was wearing a navy blue jumpsuit, with a white turtleneck underneath, and
a wire traveled from her ear to a pocket.
	"You...Fogarty...you bastard!" she yelled. "You left, just like
we'd all planned...you'd go first, and work from the outside to get us all
out...but then you didn't! You deserted us! You left us, all alone.." she
finished, trailing off, and looking away from him.
	He looked speechlessly at her for a moment, then somehow found
words. "I thought you had all died, in that explosion...V said there were
some of you left, but I didn't know...not until just now...I'm sorry..."
	Fogarty laid a hand on her shoulder, and she started. "You're
what..?" she asked.
	"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Gina..."
	"Well," she said nastily, "It's a sign of the apocalypse, isn't
it?  -You-, apologizing. How droll." She shook his hand off her shoulder,
and readjusted the wire leading to her pocket. "I'm afraid it's too late,
Fogarty. There's no way you can ever fix what you did. You left us out in
the cold, and some of us died. So what goes around comes around."
	Gina backed quickly away, out the door, and flicked the forcefield
on again, just as Fogarty began to follow. His hand brushed against the
electric blue field, and he yelped in pain.
	"Don't leave me here, Gina..." he asked, pleading. "Please?"
	"Oh, I won't. Not for long, anyway. I'll leave you here for as
long as it takes you to freeze to death! So if you die quickly, you have
to spend less time in that little cell," she replied jauntily, setting the
controls on the side of the door. "Let's see...the colder, the quicker?
Hmm. How does negative twenty degrees sound to you?"
	"Gina, don't do this. You'll hate yourself for it."
	"I already do."
	The hiss of moving air began, as clouds of cold air poured out of
the ceiling vent, to settle on the floor. Gina walked away, heedless of
the chatter of Fogarty's teeth.


	Gina came to the end of the hall, and knocked brusquely on the
door there.  A muffled "Enter," came from the other side, and she pushed
the door open. Standing at attention, she waited for the man sitting at
the desk - V - to finish his task.  Finally, he looked up.
	"Yes?" he asked, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up on his nose.
	"The Plan is proceeding on schedule, and the Enemy is currently in
the process of being disposed of," she replied.
	V nodded. "Good, good. Have you anything else to add?"
	"Only that - and this is my opinion, sir - your plan is working
beautifully."
	"Your opinion?" asked V, his face carefully blank.
	"No, sir! I..I mean, my observation!" stammered Gina, face paling.
	"I thought so," he noted, sitting back. "And of course it's
working. After all, I thought of it, didn't I? By the way, who have you
left guarding the Enemy?"
	Gina stared at V for a moment before responding. "Guarding, sir?"
	"You mean to tell me you left him by himself?" asked V quietly,
dangerously.
	"I...I thought...since there was a forcefield...and the cold..."
	V stood up, towering over Gina. "Go. Now. Make sure he's still in
there.  Guard him until he's dead. I'll deal with you later."
	She backed away in fear, then ran out the door. As it shut behind
her, V sank down into his seat once more. He was positively fuming...if
Gina still couldn't follow orders precisely, then there was definitely a
problem with her reprogramming. If he didn't know better, he'd think she
was still on the other side...and traitors were not something his
superiors dealt with kindly.


	Moments before, Fogarty stood in his cell, looking out the door at
Gina's receding back. He rubbed his hands together, trying to keep a
little warm, but it wasn't working very well. As soon as he saw that Gina
was out of sight, he looked up at the ceiling vent.
	"Mmm," he said, trying to figure out a way to get up there, and
take the cover off. It looked big enough to fit him, if only he could get
to it...he looked over to the corner, and saw...nothing. He looked all
over that tiny little room, but it was quite obvious that V wasn't taking
any chances at all. There was absolutely nothing...
	Fogarty quickly looked out the door again, to see if anyone was
coming.  The hall was completely deserted.
	"Okay," said Fogarty to himself, "I can handle this..."
	He looked up at the grate again, and had an idea...


	Gina skidded to a halt in front of Fogarty's cell, but couldn't
see anything. The fog formed by the cold air was so thick that nothing was
visible inside. She flicked off the switch to the forcefield and called
inside softly, "Fogarty? Are you still here? Where are you..?"
	Since no answer was forthcoming, she entered cautiously. She began
feeling around on the floor with her feet, and along the wall with her
hands. She nearly tripped over the grate to the ceiling vent, and groaned
aloud when she realized what it was. Suddenly, a dim blue glow lit the
room, and she turned around in a panic.
	Rushing to the door, through the fog, she skidded to a halt in
front of the forcefield. On the other side of the door stood Fogarty,
grimly resetting the controls on the room's touchpad. "How...?"
	"You went in. I went out. Simple. I can't kill you, but I can't
have you screaming for help, either," said Fogarty, finishing with a
determined 'beep'.
	"So you're...oh, no," said Gina, sniffing the air.
	"...gassing you. I'm really sorry, Gina. You don't know how sorry
I am," he replied sadly, watching her slump to the floor. "I'll try to get
you out...honest.  Now I know you're alive..."
	Fogarty turned off the forcefield and knelt in front of the
unconscious girl, taking her security pass. Flipping the switch again, he
turned, and left.


** Elsewhere

	Ted strolled down the road, hands in his pockets, whistling the
theme to some old science fiction show. He knew he was being tailed; he
knew that some miles back. He also thought, however, that he'd be able to
deal with whatever it was, so he didn't do anything about it. The only
thing was, his pursuer was growing increasingly loud, and Ted figured that
he or she would probably find out soon that Ted knew about him or her.
	Tiring of the excess in pronouns, and of the sheer monotony of the
deserted highway, Ted decided to turn around and face whoever was there.
	"Hello? Who's there?" he called.
	No one answered, and he saw a very picturesque tumbleweed blow
down the road in a cloud of dust.
	"Look, I know there's someone there. You've been tailing me for
about three hours. I'm bored now - how about you? You could at least walk
up here, and help me exercise my conversational skills," he offered.
	A dead tree shook slightly, and he heard a muffled "Dowh!" from
somewhere in its vicinity. Ted tapped his foot.
	"All right, fine. Fine! Here I am," said the voice, and he saw a
girl step out from behind the tree. She was tallish, but nowhere near as
tall as Ted, and her light brown hair was a windblown, staticky frizz. She
was wearing a light green bodysuit and matching windbreaker, a white and
gold utility belt, and white running sneakers. There was something
slightly odd about her hazel eyes, but Ted chalked it up to the outside
light. "How'd you know I was following?"
	"Heard you," shrugged Ted. "Gonna come with me, or you just gonna
keep making me pretend I don't know you're there?"
	The girl at least had the grace to blush. "I'll come with you. I
admit, it was kind of boring, following you. The appeal of the
cloak-and-dagger situation wore off after the first five minutes."
	"So why'd you keep it up?" Ted asked, starting to walk again.
	"I dunno...just doing my job, I guess," she answered, keeping up.
	"Your job? What are you, some kind of amateur spy?"
	"Kind of. Sort of. My boss picked up the transmissions from your
calculator," she said, pointing to the TI-82, "and he told me to follow
you and find out if you were a superguy."
	"A what? Wait, you mean..." started Ted, his eyes flashing in
surprise.
	"Superguy. Like, for instance, I doubt you could have done that
lightning thing with your eyes otherwise. Normals just don't -do- those
things," she said, grinning.
	"Oh. Are you a superguy? Or supergirl, or whatever?" asked Ted,
looking at the girl out of the corner of his eye.
	"Mm, yeah. Name's Nikki, codenamed Turtle. And the standard term
is 'Superguy'...it's simpler, and doesn't mess with any copyright
thingies," said she.
	"Hullo, then, Nikki. Turtle, huh? You super-slow or something?"
asked Ted, trying not to snicker.
	"Nope. Super fast, actually. Codename throws people off."
	"Oh."
	The two teenagers walked along for awhile in silence, mostly
looking at their feet, or the occasional passing quadruped.
	"So, like, you're a superguy. Do -you- have a codename, or a name,
or should I just call you Calculator Kid?" asked Nikki after awhile.
	"Yeah. Shock. Or Ted, if you'd rather," answered Ted, looking
slightly distant.
	"Did I say something wrong?" asked the girl, looking concerned.
"Just tell me if I did. I mean, sometimes, I say things before thinking
about them..."
	"No...just reminded me of a friend," answered Ted shortly, picking
up the pace.
	"Ah."
	Ted sighed. "I'm sorry. D'you know where we are? Or if we're in
spitting distance of the border yet?"
	"Yeah. Actually, if you'd noticed, you'd have seen the sign for it
about a mile back."
	"God, I've been walking forever," muttered Ted.
	"Why'n't you fly?" asked Nikki curiously.
	"No place to go."
	"Oh...wanna come back to HQ with me?"
	"Might just as well," he said, looking up at the road, then over
to Nikki.
	"Okay! I'll run. You follow!" grinned Turtle.
	"Okay," said Ted, rising into the air on a carpet of electricity.
	The girl took off, Shock following as fast as he could go. He
didn't care much, but his last remnant of reason told him a couple of
things. One, he was following a spy who moments before had been tailing
him, and two, he hadn't the faintest idea of where she was taking him. He
shrugged mentally, and followed her blindly.


** In the Air

	Stinky's face was turning greener and greener, and Taryn looked
more and more nervous.
	"Cav? Can we stop? Brian doesn't look too good.." she asked their
transport, looking back worriedly at Stinky.
	"Ah! Indeed we can, little one," answered Fiato di Cavolo, slowing
down.
	"Where?" asked Mike, peering down at the city below them. "It's
crowded."
	"Why, a rooftop, of course!" answered the renowned Italian
Superguy.
	"All-righty," said Mike dubiously.
	"Uhh...hurry, please?" asked Stinky, face positively twisted with
the effort of, uh, keeping his lunch in his possession.
	Cavolo nodded, landing on the nearest available rooftop. He set
the three teens down, and Stinky staggered toward the edge. Taryn turned
away as he leaned over the railing, and tried not to think of where
Stinky's lunch was landing. Mike winced as he heard a disgusted yell from
below.
	"Stinky! That's gross. Couldn't you have found a, um, more
discreet place to, ah, toss your cookies?" asked Taryn, wrinkling her
nose.
	"Coulda barfed on you," slurred Stinky, wiping his mouth off.
	"Eeeeew!" yelled Taryn.
	"Guys, guys, knock it off," said Mike loudly. "You noticed where
we are?"
	When they both shook their heads, Mike pointed to a big billboard.
In addition to the ad for Toasty Tarts contained therein, their current
location was spelled out in giant block letters. "Des Moines, Iowa," read
Mike.
	Taryn whirled on Cavolo. "Iowa?? That's the wrong way! We're
trying to get to New Jersey!"
	Cavolo shook his head. "Look at your instrument."
	Brian sat down on the rooftop and took out his calculator. Calling
up the map, he looked at the locations of all his fellow Brainpackers.
"Uh?" he said, eloquently.
	"Detroit?" asked Taryn bewilderedly.
	"Detroit," stated Mike incredulously.
	"Detroit," affirmed the large Italian.
	

** Detroit

	Buddha awoke to a pounding headache. Actually, just about
everything hurt, especially his chest. He opened his eyes and yelled.
	"I'm BLIND! I'm -BLIND-!!!"
	"No you're not, you dolt. And shut up!" hissed a familiar voice.
	"Who? Fogarty?" asked Buddha, whispering.
	"Yeah. I'm trying to get us out of here, so just do what I say and
don't make any sound," Fogarty whispered back.
	"Wait! What about Gina?" whispered Buddha, hesitating.
"Something's wrong with her. She's psycho. I mean, she was anyway, but now
she's really lost it."
	"Duh-oy, yeah. She's with BIC. I have to go back for her later.
But right now, she's unconscious in my cell. That's why we have to hurry -
they'll miss her soon," responded Fogarty.
	"With BI-"
	"Ssh!"



YOU THOUGHT THIS ISSUE WOULD FINISH THE ARC! HAH!

WILL OUR HEROES -EVER- JOIN EACH OTHER AGAIN?

IF THEY DO, WILL IT BE IN DETROIT?

IS GINA CRASH? IS CRASH GINA? OR IS THIS ANOTHER ALTIVERSAL HEADACHE?

DO YOU SMELL COOKED CABBAGE? DO YOU KNOW ITALIAN?

All this and more, on the next SUPERGUY!
		The Multiverse With Attitude!



Author Crash -- acrash@nac.net -- brainy9@eyrie.org -- Apparition@LSH.Org
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"Visne spectare me faciendum bullam cum meo sputo?" - Wakkus Warnius