Amelia, Ch 223- Melanie
"So, how's Pantheon's toy treating you?" I asked Newter as he lounged in one of the private booths. Recently he'd been acting a little unusual, as evidenced by the lack of attractive girls who were often too young to purchase alcohol. He of course never did anything untoward to them, and in fact made them sign wavers before allowing them to recreationally try his drug. I was initially hesitant to allow him to do that at all, but he had proven discreet and it tended to draw in men wealthy enough to pay good money, and girls attractive enough to get wealthy men (or women) to pay good money.
Remarkably enough, it actually reduced the other recreational drugs making their way into my club. Or at least it did, before Pantheon put the kibosh on that market entirely. Every few weeks, some fucker would still bring some date rape drug in here. They were given the option of being taken out back, beaten by a couple of the bouncers, and then given to the police. Or taken out back and left for Khepri to deal with. I almost felt sorry for the bastards who chose option two. Almost.
"Oh, the usual," he answered, lounging back with his wine glass. I knew from experience that it wasn't wine. Likely a clear soda, possibly sparkling water. He always said it was a waste of good booze, since his powers meant he couldn't get intoxicated. "My IQ's gone up a few more points, I'd be in the top five percent of non-parahumans except," he gestured by spreading his arms and then bending his hands inwards. "My reaction speed and hand-eye coordination deserves its own thinker rating, with both hands. And I keep having those dreams about the mildew room."
"It's something, at least," I replied. Not long after Newter started the treatment, he began having the vivid lucid dreams about a room with a mildewy smell, but he couldn't see or hear or touch anything, he was simply in the dark with the smell. We asked Yum Kaax about that, and he said something about smell being the sense most strongly tied to memory. Nothing was certain.
"Everything we were promised and more," he agreed, with his usual cheer.
But not the one thing we were hoping for, I frowned. "Sounds like we should consider having all of us use it," I replied. We had tried it on Elle, but that failed to show results. Patheon's tinker theorized it was because her power caused the problem. The neural regeneration tech could repair any biological and even a lot of psychological disorders, but much like Case 53s regenerating their bodies back to their nonhuman state if someone like Gaea repairs them, the ones that altered the mind wouldn't allow that mind to be altered back. Elle could never be normal unless her power was removed.
"Couldn't hurt," he replied, then took another swallow of his drink. "Anyway, I'm feeling a bit peckish. Can you let the doorman know to expect a couple pizzas in an hour or so?"
"Will do," I agreed as I turned and left. It was an obvious dismissal, and I tried to respect my employees' wishes when it didn't interfere with the job. Newter wished to be left alone to gorge himself on junk food. We all had our ways of coping.
....
Elle was staring at the wall, slowly running her hand across it. As she did so, the Yggdrasil's dark teal coloration would shift, changing color and texture at random. Over the course of hours, it would fade back to its original color. Pantheon had given us a special house for her, and any of us, to stay in. Being alive, the Yggdrasil was resistant to alteration Elle's power. Not completely, for reasons no one quite understood, but it was enough that the girl could safely stay in this home without any risk to herself, us, or the property. Any damage caused by her power's 'friction' against unchanged Yggdrasil would regrow quickly.
Emily was attempting to feed the girl while she played. Mashed potatoes and peas. Something she could eat safely if she forgot to chew, which could happen on a bad day. Pantheon talked about permanent power removal, I reminded myself. Elle might be able to be restored to normal, at the cost of her powers. I pushed that thought back. We needed her, no one else could provide the dimensional gates. And those gates, the safe havens they represented, were what was going to give humanity a real hope for the future.
I didn't believe Pantheon could end the Endbringers. They got the Simurgh, somehow. Maybe they could even kill Leviathan and Behemoth, but Barghest was custom designed to beat Pantheon, that was obvious to everyone that was actually paying attention. All the replacements would be as well. The only real solution was to get off of Bet. Find worlds where there might be some hope in the future. If an Endbringer crosses into another dimension, seal it off and leave them trapped inside. It was a cruel sort of math. Sacrificing a world, maybe a million people, so that the rest of us could have a future. But it was our only real hope.
"Good morning, Elle," I said as tenderly as I could. She didn't respond at all, hadn't seemed to hear me at all. I hadn't expected that she would. I'm sorry, Elle, you have to be one of the sacrifices. As she absently swallowed her food, I examined her art. Crudely drawn, but angry seeming stick figures and faces. Some held objects that may have been sticks, or perhaps guns. Bars, cages and chains were strewn about. Strangely, those were done in disturbing detail, each link painstakingly drawn. Another aspect of the damage her power had done to her.
"So, Tattletale just called," I informed Emily. I don't care what she calls herself, she'll always be Tattletale to me. "Our negotiations are locked in and agreed upon. "There's still stupid arguments over where to establish portals, and the order of priority, and other shit that the talking heads won't finish until Christmas or the next Endbringer fight, whichever happens first. And then suddenly everything will be solved in a couple days and they'll all announce success and then go give each other congratulatory handj-" I remembered the little girl in the room. "shakes in the back room."
"I still don't know how you managed to negotiate pay of two million dollars a portal during an international mandate that the Sanctuary Initiative was a humanitarian aid project and to remain completely nonprofit," Emily smirked. "Seriously, are you sure you don't have a Master or Thinker power?"
"Simple," I answered. "I didn't negotiate for the portals. I negotiated for security."
"Security?" She asked. "Oooh, I think I get it. There's all kinds of dangerous people out there who might want to capture or kill the portal makers. You'll need to provide bodyguards and parahuman protection over us during the trip and the stay in hotels. You could probably make that a lot more expensive than a couple million a pop."
"Right on the money," I confirmed. "Plus or minus a few other details. I let them talk me down from three, just so they could feel like they won something. It's not like they won't profit from this. New land, new people, new taxes. It's only fair we get our part of the pie." And to ensure that Elle gets the best care for the rest of her life, we owe her so much more than that.
"Unlike Pantheon, we're not getting a shiny new planet of our own."
"Wait," she blinked. "They're asking for a planet!?" she stressed the last word hard enough that it even got Elle to glance over at her, though only for a second before she returned to her art.
"I bet it'll end up being more than one," I shrugged. "Remember how they were talking about Gaea's dead playground world when we did that first portal?"
"Yeah," her eyes widened. "That place was a wasteland. Like. A billion nuclear bombs level wasteland. They fixed it?"
"Yup," I answered. "Safe for humans. Or will be in a month or two. They're arguing that it's not private exploitation of a Sanctuary world, because their Avalon. That's what they named it, by the way. Could never have supported life without them."
"Think it'll work?" she asked.
"Oh, absolutely," I agreed. "They need it too much to say no. Besides, the experimental tunnel showed there are hundreds of habitable worlds without any humans. Selling something that was never theirs and they couldn't use anyway? Easiest price in the world to pay. It's the next two parts that are going to make them drag their feet, and that won't take much longer."
"Please dish," Emily leaned toward me, while Elle continued to work her art.
"First," I started. "Think about it. They've got one dead world. There are easily dozens of others in similar states. They can keep claiming those without making many waves. Maybe they'll make a token gesture and give away half their salvaged planets. By the time we run out of acceptable options, Pantheon will have five times as many worlds as their next two competitors combined."
"Shit," she agreed.
"Second," I finished. "They're not negotiating over the planet. That's a given. What they want is recognition from the international community that they are a country. In short, Pantheon's members are one rubber stamp away from being one of the most powerful nations on earth. Seems fair to me that we walk away from this with about thirty mil each, give or take."
"You're not getting paid enough," she informed me.
"I know."