[Archive] With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:50 GMT -5

A moment passes, and my armour's computer tries to augment my vision which is something my rings should be doing.

Ring?

…

Oh dear.

"External. Commander, is your ring dead too?"

Infrared shows me a little bit more than visible light. Interceptor is surprisingly warm, and it looks like she's drawn a sidearm of some sort.

"The Commander's down."

Sonic is… Giving me a vague impression of my surroundings. Mapped onto what I could see before the darkness came it should be enough for me to navigate. But it's still getting interfered with.

"What is this?"

"Pass. Your powers down?"

"Yes. You?"

I try looking into her desire network and nothing happens. The honden-. No, can't feel it. My… No, my awareness of my own desires is still there, so it isn't interfering with my thought processes. I raise my power armour's arms… Yes, they're still working, as is the computer. Legs… Yes. Crumbler effect on the gauntlets?

I take a chunk out of the barricade-.

"What was that?"

"Checking the weapons in my arms."

"What have you got?"

"Matter disrupters in the gauntlets. I can punch things and they die."

"Range?"

"I've got a pistol on the inside of the armour."

"Medical?"

"My purple healing ray is in subspace."

"Shit. The Commander's pulse is weak, his breath is shallow and he's non-responsive. Any ideas?"

"Ah, if he's like my Alan Scott, his body is partially green light. If that's gone then he's probably back to being a normal ninety year old. Either we attack the high caste's bunker and hope this effect is coming from there, or we pull back and try and get out of the effect radius."

Let's… See. Manual armour controls…

"Internal. Open a channel to Blue Lantern."

He's got a multiphasic communicator, but is it working and is he paying attention to-

"Paul? What just happened?"

-it.

"Everything went dark. What does it look like from up there?"

"Like everything went dark. There's like a… A dome over the whole place. Do you need backup?"

"It's blocking superpowers. Local-you's down, don't know about the rest. My armour's still working so hopefully the cyborgs are alright. External. Interceptor, you're in charge?"

"The Heywood Corps are fine, though they can't see any better than we can. According to the map you showed us, there are four guard posts between here and them, and another five between there and the exit. Exfiltrating without powers is impractical."

"Internal. Map."

Uh. Yeah. If they can still aim any of those anti-air guns, my armour isn't tough enough to survive that level of attention.

"The Titans are affected too. They're disengaging, but Cyborg doesn't want to risk grabbing a dominator shuttle in case they get shot down the moment they leave the area being affected."

"External. Right. Are there any metahumans on the list who can do something like this? Eclipso? Shade?"

Because while my ring has adaptive search functions, my armour's database can only use search terms.

"Internal. Search 'shadow', 'darkness' and 'power nullifier'."

"No, none of them were recorded as having a power like this." I think she nods. "We attack. Breach the doors. I've got the Commander."

"External. Will do."

I trigger my armour's flight system and turn on the spot, then fly cautiously towards the doors. After a moment I bump into the force field, but a quick application of crumbler gauntlets fries the emitters with only a little damage to the outer layer of my armour.

"The dominators dropped their guns. Can you use them?"

"Wouldn't they be booby trapped?"

"It's unlikely. Booby trapping your guns gets your own soldiers killed when the enemy works out how to remote activate it."

I reach the doors and thrust my arms forwards, the material resisting only briefly as it gets crumbled.

"This one's not working."

"But they might use a genetic lock. Try coating your hands in their blood."

She moves Commander Scott to the side of the entrance way next to the doorway, then comes back and feels along the ground to try and find-. There she goes, one of the soldiers I cut in half.

"Is this-? Would gastric juices work?"

"I'm working off-" I move my arms to the side, trying to make enough room to move further in. My armour's not designed to be easy to walk around in. "-my knowledge of civilisations with a similar level of advancement, not specific-."

There's a flare of heat as she successfully fires it at the wall.

"Will this go through their armour?"

"If I remember correctly, two shots to the head will reliably disable them. Twice that to the chest if their force field is down, twice that again if it's at maximum."

"Damn it. That sounds weak."

"It's about priorities. Dominators fight for test subjects. And they can't leave their shields on full all the time without draining the batteries."

Ugh, I can't bend enough to get the bottom of the door, and my ringless flight control isn't precise enough. But I've got a big enough hole to step forward.

"No idea what caused this? Because even if the dominators have been researching metahumans, our rings-."

"Todd. It's Todd."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:55 GMT -5

"Sir? Who's 'Todd'?"

And yes, I'm through. In the sense that I've made a hole to the other side. It's extremely awkward to reach and I've got more work to do opening it up. Arms apart and try to crumble a cone.. I can.. push out…

"Slabside, the containment wing. After the dominators captured it at the end of the war, they took… Took everyone. Obsidian. One time, he… He put the sun out for a few hours with Eclipso. Normally… Normally we'd execute someone like that, but he… He wasn't in his right mind. Psychologists said he was improving."

"Does he have any weaknesses?"

"Bright light. And his control isn't all that good. He might not be doing this deliberately. Or-."

He coughs and it sounds painful. I remember Alan sounding like that, back when his ring was dead.

I brace myself, deactivate my gauntlets and shove the armoured wall in front of me. Mechanical muscles I just copied and pasted from a data file work as well as specified, making the remaining points of attachments fracture and snap.

"External. I have a hole."

"Yeah, but I can't see anything. Can you?"

A.. bit. I can't see movement, but until I can move around a little sonic isn't going to give me much. Back to work. Gauntlets activate and armour evaporates.

"No one's shot me yet. The hole should be big enough to fly through in a minute."

"You can fly?"

"Not well, but yes."

"We might need you to rush the Commander outside the zone of darkness. Could you-?"

"Not worth it. Didn't bring my lantern. Can't recharge. Prioritise Todd."

"Sir. You heard him, Orange Lantern."

"Okay." I awkwardly walk backwards. "You should be able to climb through now."

"Shouldn't you go first?"

"This is the highest security area in the facility. Reinforcements will be coming here, but the high caste generally don't let their guards inside their chambers." I awkwardly turn around. "You might-"

There's a quiet clunk from the direction of one of the room's doors, and Interceptor's heat signature shows her ducking into cover.

"-get-. Go!""

I shift over into a position to provide better cover as the first shots hit me. No heavy weapons-. Yet, and dominator augmented vision systems aren't quite as effective as what I've built into my armour. Shields are doing alright-.

Interceptor listens out for a moment, then rush-crawls across the floor to Commander Scott. Fire from the dominators slackens off, and I give myself a second to imagine how easy this would be with access to actual combat armour or my subspace arsenal. But why aren't they shooting?

If they can't see me, then-. They're shooting sound. Quick test as Interceptor levers Commander Scott into a fireman's carry. I awkwardly crouch, grab a dominator torso and then toss it to the side.

It lands with a damp thud, then flashes of heat flicker towards it. So they're effectively blind. For a moment I wonder about flying Interceptor and Commander Scott to the ceiling and seeing if the marines will open the way to their masters for us, but she's already going through the hole and I don't think the risk is worth it. Okay, grab a leg and throw-.

Motion sensor wobbles as the dominators throw something. I don't think their regular grenades would do much to my armour, not while I'm behind-.

Ah!

Sonic grenades, meant to shock and confuse. Wait, compare-. They dialled them down. That was nothing like their highest possible output. It blinds me for a moment because I'm using sonics to scan my environment, but-. They might have done the same. Just set their helmet's autosensors to track the returns and share them between the squad's computers to form a complete picture. The correct response would be to move, except that I'm providing cover for my colleagues.

I throw the legs anyway, but this time no one shoots.

Okay, they're not going to have an unlimited supply of sonic grenades, and dominators aren't usually exactly in love with the local high caste. They can only get so many snapshots, and the sonic image is going to show my armour and not much else.

I could get out of the armour, because they won't know whether it was piloted or not.

I swiftly dismiss the idea.

I-.

"Through!"

And that's my cue.

"Internal. Flight."

I spin in the air, turning face down and perpendicular to the floor. As I twist, I grab another body and throw it a little to my left. My flight doesn't make noise, but if they-.

A bright flash of heat, and the fortification to my left fractures.

"External. Aaaagh!"

And then I fly towards the breach in the fortified doorway, arms… I can't do a full Superman pose in this armour; my shoulders aren't that flexible. But as close as I can manage. My armour's computer alerts me to the face that the dominators are continuing to shoot the spot where they 'hit' me as-. Ugh, as I hit the upper part of the tunnel I crumbled, bounce off slightly and get funnelled towards the exit-hole. Did-.

Yes, yes, they heard that. They don't manage to hit me; the angle between the hole, their door and the various fortifications doesn't really allow it unless they advance, and if I could shoot them then advancing would be a foolish thing to do indeed.

Ugh. And with this armour having no head I can't really look up. I can rotate my sensor display, but that-.

Am I… Stuck? Ugh, crumbler gauntlets on, extend arms to the sides, increase flight system power output-. And there we go and stop, rotate, and stand on the floor.

"Interceptor?"

"Ready to move."

"Okay, so two possibilities. Either the high caste have legged it and are sailing away in their escape pods, or they've broken out their experimental weapons and are about to attack us."

"The Heywood Corps has fought off probing attacks, but they're holding out. The Titans are hunkering down by the front entrance. And the Commander isn't doing too great. What kind-. No, I get it."

I check my sonics.

"Looks like the best route is this way. Given the situation, I'm going to move at a jog."

I step-.

AAAAGH!

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:59 GMT -5

"INTERNAL ADJUST SHIELDS ADJUST SHIElds oh thank you."

Ah, gah! I think that was a sonic attack, so either someone just hit me with a grenade, or-.

My shield flickers in a way which says that someone just hit it with an electromagnetic pulse. A decent guess, but my shield isn't all that vulnerable to EMP disruption. Sonic sensors… Aren't working. Damaged or wrecked, I don't know. This suit has a self-repair function, but it's not as good as a power ring would be.

Okay, activate flight and shift… I have a partial map of the room from a moment ago. I'll go up and left, away from Interceptor and Commander Scott. I… Don't know where the attack came from, though dominator habits suggests that there's a dominator in the room now and they're carrying some sort of multi-output gun.

Don't know if Interceptor or Commander Scott are still alive.

"Gahkahkakhaak."

Because I never considered creating a Dominion to English translator and adding it to my armour.

"Ak-ak akakh."

I don't even know how their intonation works. The speaker could be pleading for their life, offering a ceasefire or mocking us and I wouldn't be able to tell.

"Kakrkakrak."

There's a flare of heat as probably-Interceptor takes a shot, and I'm still able to see heat but my sonics haven't come back yet which means that I'm stuck floating around until I bump into something.

"Blue Lantern to Orange Lantern."

"Internal. Go ahead."

"Got a small ship flying away from the facility. I need to do something about it?"

"Most probable possibility is that it's some of the high caste dominators. If you can do so safely, detain them."

"Ah…"

"Problem?"

"No, I can do that. I'm just wondering if you're being generous because we're not in our own universe."

"Generous?"

"Or is it just because you don't think I'd be okay with killing them?"

"It's because we haven't confirmed the target yet. If you had that big a problem with killing people who did things like this then you wouldn't be here. Incidentally, Commander Scott has children."

"Well, he did say that he remarried."

"Akh! Akh!"

"Kakh!"

Which is the guy in here talking to the guys outside, neither of whom can see the hole I made. On the other hand, I can't tell where the noise is coming from because my sonic imaging system is down and my armour's default auditory system doesn't precisely transmit direction because it was designed for reliability rather than precision.

"We think one of them is here, being used to create this darkness field."

"Huh."

Okay, so I know roughly where the plug from the doorway is. Dominators are actually slightly weaker than humans, so if I pick it up and plug the hole that might actually give them some trouble. On the other hand, the noise will definitely relay my position. Alternately, I could drift around the room. That's actually a pretty safe option, with a low chance of actually doing anything useful. I could communicate directly with Interceptor's headset-.

"Internal, activate headset-. Ah, quiet. Orange Lantern to Interceptor, that hit messed up my sonic imaging. Do you know where the target is? One beep for yes, two for no."

"Huuh huuh."

Darn it.

Optical searching it is, then.

I change orientation so that I'm facing the floor and plot out a search pattern. If the dominator hasn't shot again I'd.. guess that it's because they don't want to shoot their rescuers.

"I'm hunting them. I suggest moving around the room and trying to find the door they came in through."

"Huuh."

Of course, I'm assuming that the dominator doesn't have a personal flight system. Based on how they usually equip their soldiers, that's not too likely. Dominators use aircraft, not soldiers with jetpacks. But I'm not sure if-.

I see a flicker of yellow.

I swing my right fist, knuckles hitting a yellow energy field, which flares-! Dah! My right fist is-! OwOW!

"Target located!"

Right fist gone, bleeding? Bleeding. In considerable pain!

Dominator looks up as the yellow glow fades, weapon-.

Punch with left hand! Yellow field flickers and dies, but gauntlet smoking. Crumbler non-functional, but power support working fine. Punch.

"KEKH!"

The helmet fractures and the dominator wearing it drops to the floor! "INTERNAL DEACTIVATE FLIGHT!"

I drop-. Fuck, missed, dominator scrambling away! I swing my left fist around anyway, hit something-

"KEHK!"

"ACTIVATE FLIGHT!"

-and float towards the sound of the squawking! Flares of heat-. Armour fine. SLAP SLAP!

"KEHKK!"

"Upri-!"

AAAGH!

SOMETHING-! HIT MY HAND-STUMP!

"Upright!"

Dominator shredded leg gun knock it aside-!

PSHOOM!

Right shoulder armour melted head armour melted dominator lost hold of gun punch!

"Kk-!"

Dominator armour damaged but dominator alive. Flares of heat-. Error messages, armour internal systems being damag-ged!

Punch again!

No, won't move! Side arm side arm emergency release-. Jammed. Can't-.

Grey shape Interceptor, grabs dominator leg? Blood. Covers hands. Points dominator gun towards source of shots.

Fires.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
After

PSHOOM!

"K-!"

PSHOOM! PSHOOM!

Interceptor drops gun, kicks them in the head. Eyes close, screaming stops.

"Lantern, you alive?"

"Ex-external. Yes. In pain. Injured."

"Life-threatening?"

"Probably not. Can't tell. Destroy the power suppressor and-. Andandand I'll be fine."

"Can you get out?"

"Mechanism's jammed, and I've lost power. If you can point me at the hole and- Stick the gun in my hands-. Hand, I can do rearguard duty. Otherwise, I'll just play dead."

"Hand?"

"The left one. Right's gone. Wound partially cauterised. Hope the ring's still there. Blue Lantern reports that other high caste have pulled out."

"I'll make this quick."

Gone.

Ow.

Take stock. Legs… Fine. Left arm some pain. Probably mild burn. Torso feels fine, but…

Ugh.

Fuzzy. Concussion? Blood loss? Shock?

Try moving again.

Oxygen shortage? Environmental purifier is… Left chest. Think fine, but brain impaired.

"K-k."

Dominator eyes open, twitching. Hand opening and closing. Stunned.

"K-k to you, too."

Dark going? Shadows-.

Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

Ah…

The shadows recede, my armour knits itself back together, and after a moment I take a distinct pleasure in flexing my fully functional right hand.

"Ah, div-work."

The dominator soldier sticking its head through the.. inelegant hole I made in the bulkhead just sort of sags in place as it sees me come upright.

"No, it's okay, we're allowed to accept the surrender of unarmed military personnel. All you have to do is drop your gun and grenades."

"And… The Exalted?"

An orange thread connects me to the stunned dominator's forehead, and reduces the size of the red circle.

"What Exalted?"

"I will take that."

He pulls himself through the hole, holding his gun by the power pack. He then steps aside from the hole and sets the gun down on the ground. Next, he unbuckles his grenade belt and puts it down next to the gun before straightening back up.

"Thank you. Orange Lantern to prison team. Do you need assistance?"

"Captain Henderson responding. Got injuries but nothing critical. We were holding them off, then the lights came on and Power Girl wrecked the sorry bastards. We're back to prepping the captives now."

"Good work. Continue with the mission."

I create a replacement layer of armour over the hole, move the dominator soldier's gun and grenades into subspace and take a look at the high caste who took a shot at me. No sense making someone suffer. Ring, repair the circulatory system but leave the bones broken.

Compliance.

And deal with the concussion.

The dominator's eyes widen for a moment, but stay staring ahead. Then their head snaps to me.

"The Guardians would not attack us. You do not work for the Guardians. We have had dealings with Qward."

"You have one chance to answer fully and accurately before I modify your mental network to be more compliant. Were you involved on the attack on Earth, where the test subjects came from?"

The dominator's mental networks aren't anything particularly strange. Strange to me at least. Having seen psion and Weaponer and Sivana thought processes it's almost old hat. Memories flicker as they're triggered. No. This one is too young.

"No."

"Have you worked on the subjects?"

"Not directly. I have been using data gathered from the experiments in my own work. I am not a biologics specialist."

Looks true, though it's pretty clear that this dominator-. That she didn't hold off for moral reasons or anything silly like that.

"Did you turn on the power nullifier?"

"Yes. I designed it to fulfil this purpose. The test was surprisingly successful."

I see-. Obsidian was… Connected to the Shadowlands, and she managed to manipulate the connection. Made him the core of a machine. Having her alive would-.

Two red beams lance through the dominator's head, incinerating it.

I turn towards Interceptor. "What was that in aid of?"

"That was a dominator scientist. They're on the target list."

"That was the one who turned Todd Rice into what he is now. We could have gotten useful information from her. Loot, then burn."

Interceptor exhales sharply in frustration, but nods.

"Commander Scott?"

"I'm fine." He walks back in, green light flowing around his body as he floats the whole machine through with him. "And don't worry, Interceptor. I wouldn't trust anything we got out of her brain anyway. Commander Scott to everyone. Get ready to pull out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th October 2013
08:21 GMT -7

The squad in carbon fibre/ceramic armoured space suits spread out, spray guns at the ready. Behind them, their employer and a young American make their way slowly towards the centre of the room. The older man's armour is the same purple and grey colour as his soldiers' armour, while that worn by the adolescent is blue with the emblem of a stern red face on it.

"Do you like the armour?"

"It's.. okay."

"I'd have thought that you'd be happier to be back here, Jackson Prime."

"No! No, I totally am, I just-." He sighs the long suffering sign of a teenager who finds themselves at odds with the world. "I did some stupid things before they all left, and Arcee's only said a couple of words to me since we got here. What if she's still angry with me?"

"She's not. You know they're all disturbed by my implants."

"Ah, yeah?"

"Right before I spoke to you, I'd had a big talk with Arcee about how she felt-"

Jack suddenly gives Paul his full attention, turning away from the giant alien computer technology. Then immediately he tries to look like he didn't.

"-and as far as I can tell, coming from a species that doesn't reproduce sexually and has known nothing but war for millions of years doesn't actually result in you having particularly good social skills."

"Ah-? 'Millions'?"

"Oh yeah, she's a bit older than you. Apparently there's an Autobot team out there somewhere that have alt-modes based on dinosaurs."

"Found them, sir!"

Paul turns in the direction of the shout, looking over to where his men at arms have discovered a cluster of recumbent scraplets hiding under a peeled-back deck plate. "Good work, chaps! Advit, spray them down, but try not to get too much anywhere else."

The indicated squad leader nods and motions two of his men forwards. He'd been a sergeant in the Indian army until a shrapnel wound taken in Kashmir damaged the nerves in his legs too badly to continue. Now he was walking around on his own legs with nothing worse than a slightly odd feeling when the wires replacing the damaged nerves pulled awkwardly under his skin. In his opinion, the discomfort was well worth it, though he had firmly decided that he wouldn't ever choose the option a couple of the formerly paraplegic soldiers had and have his legs replaced with purely mechanical legs that wouldn't have the same problem.

The weird metal balls with mouths don't even stir as the gas sprayers turn them into glass statues. He waves Raghav and Kiaan forward to pull them out of the way so that they can check behind them. If the damned things act like normal insects they'll be crammed into the crevice as far as they can get. The other squad were already rappelling down the sides of the alien's metal bridge to spray anything lurking on the underside. He'd looked down when they walked across and he hadn't been able to see the bottom.

Their boss watches them rappel down and nods in satisfaction. While he was confident in the plan, it was always nice to see it work in practice as well as theory.

"I didn't know she was millions of years old."

"Does it change anything?"

"I knew she was older than me, I just thought…" He slumps slightly. "I don't know what I thought."

"If it helps, I don't know that she is millions of years old. Thinking about it, I've never heard her specifically mention a time before the war. Slipstream is millions of years old and we get on fine."

He looks the system over and then waves Jack forward. For some reason, the Thirteen designed their great database to be accessed by sliding what would for them be a tiny key into a slot in the floor, which would open the database and cause the keyhole to flip out of the floor to their chest height. The database would then load whatever the key was set to retrieve onto it and then shut down. Of course, if you didn't exactly know what you wanted or if it wasn't something that would mess around with a Prime's spark, things were a little simpler.

In theory.

Jack walks forward, wincing slightly as his eyes pick out the bite marks inflicted by the scraplets he fought off last time he was here. At the time, he thought of getting the data Optimus needed and tricking the scraplets into following the insecticon off the bridge as his proudest moment. He still did, actually, but the fact that he'd never come close to equalling it, and… Probably only got to do it in the first place because he wasn't going inside Unicron, made him feel like it…

It wasn't the proof that he was a part of Team Prime that he thought it was at the time. It wasn't the proof that he could be Arcee's partner that he wanted it to be.

He slides the key into the slot and then backs away as the access point starts glowing. Okay, clear damage there and there, but it looks like it has some sort of auto-repair system. The strange upright section that served as the download point pulled itself upright to a height convenient for an Autobot. Behind it, a metal iris opens in the ground and geometric holograms of brilliant blue and white light spring out of it.

Paul looks around cautiously, making sure that no surviving scraplets have decided to eat this sacred relic now that's it's been reactivated. When none appear, he activates his armour's gravity impeller and jumps, flying-.

He laughs inwardly. Or as Slipstream would put it 'falling with style' in an arc and landing on the crenulation just above the attachment point.

"Coming up?"

Jack checks his surroundings for obstacles and then triggers his own thruster, arcing upwards and managing to land directly on the download point.

"Can you see where you have to plug it in?"

Can he? It's not exactly obvious, and cybertron technology was designed for people a whole lot bigger than-.

"Heh!"

He looks up at Paul. "What?"

"I just realised. Alpha Trion, the transformer who sent all those archive pods to Earth, was chief archivist of Iacon, right?" Jack nods. "And he was Orion Pax's boss. We're below Kaon, on the other side of the planet from Iacon. Bosses don't fetch and carry for themselves. Which means that whenever he needed something from what is basically Primus's own memory banks, he'd have sent Orion. And Orion would have driven half way around the planet, snuck into Kaon because the location of the entrance is supposed to be a secret, dealt with this stupid interface it has instead of a normal console, then snuck out again and driven back halfway around the planet back to Iacon."

Jack frowns. That sounds like something his manager at KO Burger might do. It felt.. weird to think of Optimus Prime being in the same position.

And kinda funny.

"You found it yet?"

Ah-? "Yeah!" He reaches onto his harness and pulls out the first cable. It's big enough that it's awkward to manipulate with one hand, and Shockwave said that was as small as it could be made and still work. Slot it in there, and the second one goes there…

"They're in!"

Paul activates his radio. "We're plugged in. Shockwave?"

The lights behind the access point flicker and spin, going out for a moment before forming a face.

Jack stares at it, then glances down at the autobot symbol on his chest armour.

"Who's that?"

"The Last Autobot. I'd forgotten-."

Paul shakes his head.

"Yes, that would work. Shockwave, can you find out where he is?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
15:02 GMT -5

I watch out of the window of the secure detainment facility's office as a woman is embraced by her tearful family after a fifteen year absence. Parents and sisters, in this case, people who had long since assumed that they'd never see her again. She has a relatively minor superhuman pyromantic ability that resulted in her getting abducted by the dominators when their snatch squads went through the local version of Gotham. She's not being let go yet; unlike most of the people we recovered she isn't being kept for fear that she'll return to a life of crime but rather because she hasn't finished going through 'decontamination' yet. That will involve checking her for implants, mind control effects and genetic alterations, as well as providing her with therapy and…

And working out how to integrate people back into society after a fifteen year gap.

"What do you plan to do with the former prisoners?"

"Depends on what they were in prison for." Commander Scott is looking like his old self, though I've noticed that he's occasionally touching his ring in a way that he wasn't before. "Everyone who's served their sentence is being treated like a civilian. Everyone who was sentenced to more than fifteen years… I think a little leniency is in order, if they get with the program."

I nod.

"And Mister Rice?"

Interceptor snorts. "We should leave him as he is."

Commander Scott doesn't show any particular emotion. I give him a moment to respond, but… Nothing. Alright then.

"Might I ask 'why'?"

"Do you know what the cure rate for schizophrenia is?"

"As far as I know, it doesn't get cured. Sufferers learn to cope with it, usually assisted by counselling and psychoactive drugs."

"Yeah. Because schizophrenia is the result of the human brain not making the right levels of neurotransmitters. It's not something you can fix with injections. You can't even reliably suppress it with drug injections, just reduce the impact. We've managed to properly cure a handful of people using cybernetics-."

"That's great! Can I-? Would you mind giving me a copy of your records before we leave?"

Interceptor frowns. "We had to take their brains out of their skulls and wire them into a pharmacy. It's a functional solution, but it's not exactly something you can apply to a whole population."

"It's still an option, and it's better than nothing."

Commander Scott nods. "We can share medical technology if you don't mind reciprocating."

"Right, you don't have purple healing rays, do you."

I take one of my spares out of subspace and deposit on the meeting table, along with full documentation.

"We're still doing testing prior to mass implementation, but there haven't been any problems so far."

Commander Scott looks at it for a moment. "That's very kind of you. What does it 'heal'?"

"Any organic damage. It won't completely regrow missing parts, but anything short of that will knit back together."

Interceptor's posture relaxes slightly, though she still has a stern expression.

"My point is that we can't cure his schizophrenia. Given how his physiology works, we can't use cybernetics, and give how powerful he is, we can't risk depending on drugs or therapy. It makes more sense to use him as a perfect power suppressor system at the new Slab than it does to try turning him back."

Whaw.

I agree with everything she just said, but completely disagree with her conclusion.

There are magic means to treat mental illnesses, though none of them are reliable either. Given the risk he poses and the crimes he's already committed, it isn't right to risk the lives of everyone on the planet by letting him out. And he is more reliably contained at the moment than the JSI could do with the resources at their disposal.

"Still, I think it's worth the risk. The dominators will have backups of their research, and right now he's the only superhuman that you know it won't effect." I look towards Commander Scott. "You said that his reports said he was getting better. Does he present a threat?"

"He didn't, before he was a prisoner of the Dominion for fifteen years."

"But you're talking about turning a person into an accessory. We had that in my parallel, when someone turned a telepath called Doctor Cizko into an intelligence suppressing machine. It doesn't inspire confidence in people. There's a difference between 'this person is a clear and present danger' and 'this person's brain is a useful paperweight'."

Interceptor shrugs. "Then we don't tell people. It's not like most people bother finding out what our actual rules of engagement are. If we turn up with a new power suppressor, no one's going to think anything of it."

I blink.

"This is what I sound like to other people, isn't it?"

"Yeah mate." John Constantine plops himself down in the chair next to me. "It is."

Interceptor blinks. "How did-?"

"Wizard. Amazing where I can get, especially when people are all looking the other way. And I've been getting all sorts of places. Listening. Learning." He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a smooth black stone. "Know what this is?"

"The Blackrock." Commander Scott generates construct manacles and tries to clamp them around John, only for the construct to decay into static before it reaches him. "Don't even think about using that."

"Using it? No. Not my style. But it's a dead useful tool. Did you know that it records every single electromagnetic transmission on Earth? Has done ever since Silverstone created it."

John leans forward, resting his chin on his hands.

"Funny how different the version of your chat with the dominators it recorded was compared to the version that got released to the public. You want to explain that, Commander?"

Commander Scott's eyes narrow slightly.

"I don't know what you think you've found out from the tool of a well known supervillain, but if you think it's important then you might as well tell us."

John lifts his head off his hands, and glares at Commander Scott with genuine anger in his eyes.

"You sold them out. The Slab, Basement One Oh One, all those other places I never heard of until I heard you tell them about them. Every JSI-run prison, you handed the lot off to the Dominion."

Interceptor huffs. "We don't keep the locations of our prisons secret, Wizard. The dominators were in orbit. I'm sure they could work out what was in the buildings with 'JSI PRISON KEEP OUT' written on the side on their own."

"Bloody convenient if they could. Because there was an investigation going on, wasn't there. After a few too many prisoners in for minor offences got their brains mangled by your suppression system."

Commander Scott glares back. "That's enough."

"Which got shut down right afterwards. Investigating the people keeping the world safe at a time like that? Just not done. Plus all the evidence was on the other side of the galaxy. Do any of the ones we got back know, or is Brainwave going to give them a once-over first?"

"No. We handed them over because it was best for Earth."

Interceptor's face falls, and she looks at Commander Scott in horror.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
15:06 GMT -5

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You were just trying to convince me to use a man as a power suppression device." His eyes flick to me for a moment before returning to Interceptor. "Todd Rice is my natural son, by the way, though I've got no idea how Orange Lantern found out about that."

"Your-?"

"Apparently, Rose kept it together long enough to give birth and hand them over to an orphanage. The tabloid stories about Jade being my daughter are true, though I was married to her mother at the time."

"I'm-. Sorry-."

"What for? You had a sound proposal. On balance, I think that Orange Lantern is in the right, because we want mentally ill people with superpowers to seek treatment rather than worry we're going to unperson them, but your argument had merit."

John leans back in his chair, slowly blowing air out of his pursed lips.

"At least you're consistent."

"It helps. We were going to release that information in a few years anyway. Honestly, I never thought that we were going to get anyone back."

"Why..? Were you going to tell people, then?"

"I -and the other members of the JSI executive board- think that honesty is the best policy. Whatever we did, it would come out eventually. With this… Last case put to bed, the plan is for us to retire and pass the whole organisation over to the next generation. A few years for them to get the hang of it, then we could make a public confession without harming the organization too much."

Interceptor blinks. "You were-? All-?"

"Handing a group of people -even supervillains- over to alien invaders isn't something any one of us would do without the agreement of the others. I hated it, and I hated them-."

"That's why you weren't annoyed that Interceptor killed the one I captured. She would have known-."

"Oh please." He shakes his head. "If she knew, it probably wouldn't have occurred to her to tell anyone, and she wouldn't have had any contact with anyone who would believe her word over mine. I wanted her dead because I know she'd have done exactly the same thing as the others given the chance, and probably has done it to other worlds."

"Why?" Interceptor looks lost as she shakes her head. "Was the situation really bad enough-?"

"Yes. They had orbital supremacy. We lost good people trying to lift nukes to their ships, which was the only way we had to even try to attack them. The only reason they didn't wipe us out was because they wanted us as test subjects more than they wanted to conquer Earth. So we offered them every murderous criminal we had if they would leave. And they did. And we finally got the governmental support we needed to get strong enough to stop the next invasion. It was worth it."

John honestly seems a little amused. "And how was your crime rate after all that?"

"Much lower. Fewer thefts, fewer murders. Fewer lives being destroyed. People finally understood that supervillainy wasn't just a bit of fun. Some very unpleasant people died in Dominion prisons and I can't say I'm all that sad about it."

"I assume that's a discussion you've had with Missus Scott."

"Molly paid her debt to society before I married her. She knew how I felt about the way she was living when she was Harlequin."

Interceptor blinks, clearly stunned by what she's hearing.

"I… Don't know-."

"I know this is a shock, Interceptor, but I'm sure once you reason it through you'll see we're right. It's best for everyone this way."

John raises his left eyebrow. "Except the ones who died in the Dominion."

"I'm not going to waste my time on the total monsters, and most of the rest had family who are still alive today because they're not. When you're in a job like this, you can't-."

"If you're in charge, and you know something is necessary to do something good, and you refuse to do it, that's just… Just squeamishness."

"No, it's… Normal morals that don't fit the situation. Normal morals are there to guide you through individual interactions. They don't work when you try applying them to a population of billions. I'd worry about someone who could make this sort of decision and not be troubled at all, but at the end of the day, if you can't say 'exitus ācta probat' then you're in the wrong job."

I hate this conversation. And from the looks John's giving me, I've got a sneaky suspicion that I know what this whole thing was in aid of.

I mean… I agree, though I'm really uncomfortable hearing it from an Alan's mouth. But no one spoke against it? I make a point of surrounding myself with people who disagree with me for a reason. I want them to find a better way to do things. I give them opportunities to do that. Because I generally wouldn't mind being wrong.

It's not my fault if they don't have any better ideas. Or they just stick their fingers in their ears and hum loudly and hope it will go away.

I just-.

I-.

"So-. So what now?"

"Interceptor, good work. Take a week off to think things over. After that, we're going to make you the face of the successful counterattack."

"You're.. going to promote me?"

He nods. "Of course. Between your success rate and practicality, you're an obvious choice. As for our parallel universe friends… Well, that's up to the two of you. I'm gone in a few years anyway. You can release what you know, which might damage the JSI or might -let's not kid ourselves here- be met with casual indifference. Or you can keep it to yourselves. I don't know exactly how powerful a wizard you are, Mister Constantine, but I know very well the kind of collateral damage that happens when people in my weight class fight and I don't think this is worth fighting you over."

And John looks at me again.

What?

Is this-? Is he thinking about when the Justice League refused to arrest me over killing Nabu and making the whole thing public?

That wasn't-.

I don't disagree with-.

I can't.. make a decision that will affect an entire world without knowing far more about it than I.. do. You've got the fucking Blackrock, you decide!

…

"I see no particular advantage in releasing the information early, though, John, if you want to, go right ahead. Where are we on getting home?"

"Oh, I think Sivana will spot something went wrong in a little while. Shouldn't have a problem next time." He stands, sliding the Blackrock into his coat pocket as he does so. "Green Arrow and Black Canary have been keeping themselves busy too. Think I'll have a bit of a wander before we leave."

A red crack appears in the air behind him, and he turns and ambles through, closing it behind him.

Commander Scott turns to me.

"What do you think he'll do?"

"My guess is nothing. I suspect this is about self-awareness or something." I raise my right hand to my forehead. "Interceptor, good luck with the new job. Commander Scott, good luck with the trial. I.. feel a sudden need to engage in uncomplicated good works. Goodbye."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd November 2012
16:13 GMT -5

It's hard to.. picture a million anything.

I remember Cabin Pressure, a comedy on BBC Radio 4, where a pilot challenges a flight attendant to even picture a hundred of anything. He actually manages it, by mentally putting a series of small objects on various parts of the plane that existed in a known quantity. The attendant was the fool of the piece, and it was the only time I remember him doing something clever.

But a million? Without my rings I couldn't even hold a million blades of grass in my head. After the first few dozen it's just a sheet of green.

And now I'm looking down at a million graves I just dug.

Green Lantern Holt has been extremely sensible in his priorities. Food, water, basic sanitation. Stabilise one area and then move on. Everything else is just too broken down to do much about, even with the aid of the few remaining functional superheroes.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

Emergency cremations were the order of the day for the dead in the cities, but whole areas of the countryside are still filled with rotting corpses.

A grim business, but I wouldn't wish it on anyone else, and the last thing this place needs is a disease epidemic on top of everything else.

We lost more than a million to the Sheeda, of course. But the bodies were mostly rendered down. I didn't have to personally inter all of them.

But what can I even say? Not only did I not know any of these people, I don't know anything about them. In some cases I don't even know their names, and it's pretty hard to hide something like that from a power ring. I certainly don't know personal information.

"Surprised you're trying to do an oration. Their souls have moved on months ago, even after something like this."

"Just in case. And.. because it's right."

John standing there nonchalantly while other people do the work is a fairly common occurrence. The difference now is that he does it in the air, and the wind doesn't affect his cigarette.

"So."

"So." He nods. "You're not particularly pleased with me, I'm guessing. Had to be done, though."

"I wouldn't go that far. But I.. do appreciate that the wake-up call was… Useful. And probably timely."

"Blimey." He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise. "People don't usually take it this well when I pull stuff like this."

"I'm too dangerous to reject good advice because my feelings are hurt. I will admit that I'm a little surprised that you're back to Constantining this quickly."

"Messing with my mates' heads is what I'm good at. And let's not forget that you haven't exactly been easy on mine, either."

"I'd say 'you volunteered' and 'it was necessary', but that's… Missing the point. Is what I'm assuming I'm supposed to take away from this."

"Honestly, could have gone either way."

"What, I could have decided 'this is great'?" He nods. "They didn't even give me their SOP bible."

John looks confused for a moment. "Never heard of a bible called-."

"Standard Operating Procedure bible. It's a set of defined processes any organisation should have written down so people can look up what they're supposed to be doing and how. I… Had been intending to go through it and see how much could be used for the Justice League. Which I can't do now and I'm not sure I'd even want to."

"Probably for the best."

"Any other moral lessons you're planning on springing on me?"

"Not right now. See how you go."

"How was The Kingdom of Albion?"

"Morgana's got everything she ever wanted. Far as I could tell, she's doing an alright job. Place is probably doomed, though."

"Why, did she marry their you?"

"No, but she used one of me ancestors to father her daughter. The first Constantine, far as I could tell."

"That would be… Kon-Sten-Tyn? Didn't he sacrifice his sons for power?"

"Just the ones with goddess blood in them. He had plenty of others, and daughters too. And how the fuck do you know about him?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that Jason Blood mentioned him?"

"No. Not when you put it like that."

I check no one else is around.

"I read about it in a comic book. He was talking about his life with Merlin's severed head."

John frowns in puzzlement. "How does that work, then?"

"The head? Magic, presumably?"

"You told me you came from a comic."

I shake my head. "No I didn't. I came to a comic. Which is here."

He blinks, then appears to brush it off. "You could have been a bit clearer about that. I thought you meant you came from a comic."

"John, that's daft. How would that even work?"

We hold each others gaze for about three seconds.

"Hahahahaha!" / "Hahahahaha!"

John bows his head, still chuckling. I wipe away my tears. Darn. That's-. That's totally inappropriate.

"Alright, let's-. Can you make sure that they've all passed on as peacefully as possible?"

"Yeah, mate. I'll-."

There's a grey flash, and then Interceptor is floating next to us. She looks at me, then John, then the rows of graves beneath us.

"I thought you were on holiday."

"I felt a sudden need to engage in uncomplicated good works. Finding.. that out…"

"Yeah."

"What happened here?"

"A kryptonian got possessed by a demon and destroyed civilisation. So-" I take a spell eater out of subspace and toss it to her. "-just in case."

"Thanks. You've been here before?"

"I was part of the group that stopped him. Of course, that doesn't undo the damage. Come on. Let's go check in with Lantern Holt and see where he wants us next."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th October 2013
11:57 GMT -7

A convoy of brightly-coloured intelligent vehicles drives at speed down through Cybertron's lower levels. Though Cybertron is gradually restoring itself the process hasn't penetrated deeply yet, and in several places they're forced to transform and climb, or use their weapons to make a passageway. The damage here is… Sporadic, when compared to the surface. Individual locations that were heavily fought over are just as crashed as anything that could be found in the streets in the cities above at the end of the War for Cybertron, but in other places the machinery is entirely pristine. You could stand there and imagine that the war had never happened.

But for the silence.

The red car at the back of the formation wishes there was more silence. Because he's hearing things from the organics sitting on his formerly pristine leather seats that are filling his cognition circuits with all kinds of disturbing images.

"Jack… Okay, look. Clearly this is a conversation you need to have with someone. Your father's not around any more, you don't have any uncles and Optimus Prime's dead, so it's either me or Agent Fowler. I've got more experience, but you actually like him, so it's up-."

"Hey, w-? What?!"

"Your relationship with Arcee. What you want out of it. What you want your relationship to be. Teenagers need an adult to kick them up the 'aft' occasionally, so here I am."

"I just-. I wanna be her partner, you know?"

"Yes, of all the humans in the universe, I do know. But I think you've got the wrong idea about how that works."

The red car notes -then tries to stop noticing, because organics, urgh- that Jack appears to calm down slightly.

"What d'you mean?"

"They're giant robots. We're tiny meatbags. We're never going to be able to fight like they do. Hoping that you can contribute in that way is ridiculous."

"Miko got to fight like they do."

"With the Apex Armour?" A sullen nod and a red velocitronian trying to wish he hadn't watched enough human entertainment transmissions to recognise that. "There's one in the universe and they don't know how to make any more. And even if you used it, you don't have a million years' worth of experience in warfare to draw on when using it."

"But that's..! That's what Arcee does."

"Have you ever talked to her about anything else?"

"Ah…" Jack blinks, his eyes moving to stare at the walls as he tries to-.

Around them, Knock Out discovers that he can roll his eyes in vehicle form. Oh, if he's going to be forced to watch this then he might as well watch it.

As Jack tries to remember if he ever talked to his sidecar about her life.

"I mean, she… Told me about Tailgate and Cliffjumper. But when she talked about Cybertron it was mostly about how the Decepticons wrecked it. The only things we really talked about that didn't have anything to do with the war was stuff about me."

"Yes, Slipstream was like that when we first met. Transformers have been fighting for a very long time, and sometimes that means they get tunnel vision. They forget that there are other things they can do. She probably finds your life fascinating because it's been so long since she came into contact with anything outside fighting."

"Huh. But I… Should ask her about other things, right?"

"Yes. She's not going to learn how to do things other than fighting from a bunch of other transformer soldiers. Honestly, that's probably the best thing you can do for her."

"I can… I can do that. Is that how it worked with you and Slipstream?"

"Basically. She wanted to search for Decepticon transmissions, I asked why, she explained the war, and she couldn't explain why she wanted to start fighting again." Paul looks at Jack for a moment. "So are you committing to a romantic relationship, or are you trying to be a good friend?"

"I wanna be a good friend. But… How would that-? Uh." Fuel tubes in the human's face dilate, causing it to redden. "How..? I mean..."

"Are you trying to ask how the sex works?"

"…"

"Don't worry, I can just about remember being your age. The first thing you have to remember is that transformers don't reproduce like we do. And most of them don't know how that works."

Knock Out knows how it works. Knock Out is painfully aware of how it works. Humans, combiner pistons aren't that interesting. They don't need to take up 4% of your entire noosphere.

"So you just… Don't? But your implants, you said-?"

"My implants allow us to plug our minds into each other. Transformers are aliens with a very different mental setup to us. When she flies, it's-. I can feel it like she feels it, the motion of air over her wings, her tracking obstacles and targets and I'm aware of it all in the same way that she's aware of it. It's incredible, really. I've flown in planes before but it doesn't compare at all."

He's been in her cockpit feeling her fly? Oh this is just filth. Horrible, appealing filth.

"And in return… You know that transformers live off energon?" Jack nods. "They've always lived off energon. But for a human, that would be like eating by injecting fresh blood into your arteries. They have almost no sense of taste, and what they have doesn't have the same emotional component that human eating does."

Jack nods. "But when she's plugged into you, she can taste what you taste?"

"Sort of. It's more that her cognitive systems try to mirror the structures in my brain, but… Yes. It's a form of pleasure that she's never experienced before. To start with she found it disturbing, but now she's.. really into it."

"Huh. I could… I mean, it's not the same as…" Jack shifts awkwardly on his seat. "So..? You..? Can't..?"

"Can't have sex?" Jack winces, but awkwardly nods. "Not exactly. She doesn't have the parts, because transformers don't reproduce like that. There's some things you can't do with a giant robot. But since I do have the parts, and our bond lets her feel what I feel, and since even though she's a lot bigger than me her proprioception is extremely good, we… Make do."

"P-proprioception?"

"Her sense of her own body's movement and position. To be blunt, when she touches my erogenous zones it feels like she's touching parts of her body she doesn't have, and she experiences the same pleasure that I do."

"… Oh."

"Though we have been trying to get data on improved avatars and cyber-organic interface technologies, so who knows what the future might bring."

He was going to spray-wash his seats. No, no, not even that. Take them out, throw them in a plasma pyre and get some replacements built by a hermetic priest of Quintus Prime in the vague hope that would make him feel clean again and why couldn't he deactivate his auditory pickups?

Oh. Because this is the most interesting conversation he's overheard since that thing with Swindle and Trickdiamond.

In a flash of disquieting insight Knock Out understands what Paul is talking about regarding Cybertronians having narrow horizons.

"So have you made a decision?"

"I'm, um…" Jack coughs awkwardly. "I… I think I'll… I'll talk to her about it."

"No, too vague. What is your intent?"

"I-. I wanna-." Jack closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. "I wanna date her. I want to be with her."

Paul smiles. "Good choice! I assume that you're going to want the implants?"

"Ye-. I mean, not right now, but… If she says yes…"

"I'll talk to my chirurgeon. It's probably best to wait until you finish growing, anyway."

"Do you think she'll..? Say 'yes'?"

"If she was going to say 'no', she'd have done it the moment she found out about me and Slipstream. You just need to work out how to talk her into trying it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th October 2013
13:43 GMT -7

"So what did you do before the war?"

Knock Out glances down at the human standing near his feet. Ratchet was overseeing the process of pumping energon into the mechanisms around the 'Last Autobot', and there wasn't anything for him to do. Slipstream was back on the surface since bringing a Seeker down these corridors would be ridiculous and Jack was needed to act as a living authentication system.

"Why do you want to know?" He smiles sarcastically. "Planning on adding me to your transformer harem?"

"Harem?"

"I know you've only got one so far, but I suppose you have to start somewhere. And I am a fine piece of machinery."

"No. You said 'harem'. A transformer would usually say 'team' or 'squad'." Scrap. "Transformers don't have a concept of a harem because-."

"Yeees, we don't reproduce like that. I've been on Earth long enough to learn English. Don't read too much into it."

The human looks up at his f-. He's not considering it, is he? Best… Head that off.

"I was an engineer. I came to Cybertron from Velocitron with a magna-wrench in my hand and a dream in my brain module. I wanted to make my business the number one place for bodywork and performance-enhancing tune-ups in all of Cybertron." The irritation he used to feel about what actually happened is still there, though the vorns have left it somewhat muted. "What actually happened is that I got stuck in Uraya doing fuel system rebuilds for idiots who didn't watch their fuel additive intake. Between rationing and the start of the uprising there wasn't much demand for anything else."

"So how did you end up with the Decepticons?"

"They were the best clients. Sure, they weren't interested in speed, but they were more willing to be… Experimental with their upgrades. I started working in the underground gladiator circuits, fell into medicine for the extra energon, and…Joining the Decepticons just felt like a natural move."

"No great ideological commitment?"

"Heh, you've come to the wrong 'con if you're looking for that. No, it was always a matter of convenience." He waves his right arm. "And then the War dragged on-"

"Yeah."

"-and spare parts became harder to come by, and I got used to cannibalising dead 'bots-"

"Um."

"-for parts. And the fuel efficiency drives! Oh, don't get me started on the fuel efficiency drives. There's more to life than miles-per-gallon!"

"So why are you here?"

"Where else would I go? Ratchet's busy running the show, so they need someone who knows his way around a hyperspanner."

"But what's in it for you?"

"Hm, steady supply of energon… Components… Subj-ah, patients... Eventually, they might even get around to restoring some of Cybertron's road networks."

"Earth has complete road networks. And race tracks. We have energon, and several world governments are gathering and stockpiling it. Earth also has the wrecks of every vehicon who died during your fights with the Autobots-."

"Eeeeeeehhhh. I'll pass. There's only so many times I can stare at a vehicon's internal systems before it all blurs together."

"Vehicons were a product of rationing, weren't they? Megatron needed warriors in the field and workers in the mines, but he didn't have enough energon to suppose a larger population of regular transformers…"

"That was part of it, certainly. Standard parts allows for standard production, which made it easier to keep them in the field."

"Do you think they'd want to be upgraded?"

"I'm not sure they have wants." But that is an interesting idea, isn't it? Replacing bland and boring components with something with a little character. "Out of… Curiosity, where are those vehicon bodies being kept?"

"If you want test cadavers, I'm sure that we can come to terms. Human governments want transformers willing to explain transformer technology to them."

"Is that what Slipstream's been doing?"

"No, she doesn't have the knowledge required. We've just been introducing more mundane technology from other worlds. You'd be in demand. You could probably name your price."

And isn't that an interesting proposition. No more road races for him. No, he could own his own racetrack, a proper course designed to test the participants to their limits. But the only other Decepticon would be Slipstream, and she wouldn't be changing to a ground-based altmode any time soon. Unless he could dig them up from somewhere like Skyquake-. No, that wasn't going to happen.

"And I was thinking that while the war might be over… What exactly is the draw of Cybertron? Energon? Ratchet will share that design, and that's only an issue in the long term."

"Mining energon isn't easy."

"It is when you can pay humans to throw manpower at it. Sure, one human is never going to match a vehicon, but hundreds with the right equipment will match the peak output the Decepticons managed." Hm. Could be true. "But what about inviting other transformers?"

"Like who?"

"Anyone who doesn't want to live on Cybertron. Team Prime are going to be putting this place back together for a very long time. Sure, I can see some transformers being interested in that, but Decepticons… Well, most Decepticons are used to living violent lives, and we've got Unicron's internal systems to pacify. If it's company you want then I doubt you'll have trouble finding takers."

"What's in it for you?"

"I get to have a medic around in case something happens to Slipstream. Don't worry: your sculpted aft is entirely safe from my clutches."

Hm… Worth thinking about. Definitely worth thinking about. But it's probably best to change the topic now before the human talks him into anything.

"What exactly got the Autobots so excited about this..? 'Last Autobot'?"

"The Last Autobot was created as a failsafe in case transformers were ever near extinction and Unicron woke up with no one left to fight him. Among other things, he is supposed to have the ability to raise transformers from the dead."

Knock Out frowns. "How?"

"I don't understand the mechanism. Supposedly, he raises his hands, wrecks self-repair and their spark reinstalls itself. He needs massive amounts of energon, but that's not really a problem any more."

Knock Out watches as Bulkhead hauls away one empty tanker and replace it with a full one. The human is correct. Actually, that might mean that refuelling Metroplex might be possible once they build a big enough production facility. He wasn't exactly fast, but working on a titan, that would be interesting.

Wait.

"And he can resurrect anyone?"

"Any transformer. Actually, he might be able to resurrect any Primus-derived species, Vector Sigma wasn't clear."

"And there aren't any..? Oh I don't know, restrictions..?"

"He pre-dates the War, so he's not going to care whether or not they were a Decepticon. The only.. issue would be if they were contaminated with dark energon. Because the whole-"

No.

"-point is to fight-."

"I-." Knock Out takes a half-step away from the human, uncertain of the stability of his own legs. "I need a moment."

"Knock Out? Are-?"

Horror and disgust war for dominance in his spark. He barely hears the human.

"Not now. Just-. Not now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Uncomplicated Good Works

25th November 2012
15:01 GMT -8

Interceptor -Linda Anderson, apparently- sighs heavily as she floats away from the latest shipping crate of basic supplies that she's dropped off. Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that the JSI were happy to be relatively open-handed where civilian relief is concerned. Or perhaps it's just their way of keeping the clearly-wavering Interceptor on-side.

We haven't been able to put Earth 666 back together. That's probably impossible. But we've just about finished injecting Polyfilla into the largest cracks so water can't get-.

The local Supergirl speeds past with another shipping container, drops it off and speeds off again immediately.

Interceptor frowns. "She should slow down. She's been working non-stop since she got back. People can't work at full intensity without a break."

Ring?

"She heard you, slowed down for about half a second and then sped up again. I don't think she's going to be listening to reason on the subject."

"I can understand being dedicated, but-."

I generate a sound baffle around us.

"When he was possessed, the local Superman spread-. The demon possessing him, I should say, used him to spread its magic to everyone close to him. Supergirl ended up torturing people to death for his amusement. She remembers everything she did under the influence with perfect clarity. We offered to remove or suppress the memories but she refused."

"Damn. And she's me?"

"No, you're you. She's a little like you, accounting for growing up in a different situation. Genetically, she's pretty much identical, if that's what you mean."

Interceptor seems to find the idea a little off-putting.

"Not met parallel versions of yourself before?"

"No. I wasn't even sure I was an alien."

I raise my left eyebrow. "Really?"

"Metahumans can have very different physiology to normal humans. It wasn't that much of a stretch."

"Alright."

I take a moment to open my awareness of the desires of the survivors below. Like the survivors of other disasters I've worked on they're mostly simple and short term, but I… I make an effort not to think of them like the Ophidian does, but as a human who could have similar experiences would.

"I wouldn't be astonished if the JSI had information on the subject that they were sitting on, though I suppose that if you take the promotion, you'll have full access."

"It doesn't matter. I don't remember anything about it, and America is my home."

"Well, fine, but having seen the way America celebrates Saint Patrick's Day, you won't exactly be an outlier if you acknowledge the traditions of two cultures."

"Why did they send me away?"

"I'm not completely sure, but if your Krypton is like most other Kryptons I've encountered, it exploded. The people didn't get enough notice to carry out an evacuation, so the only survivors were the children of a doomsday prepper and his brother; your uncle and father respectively. Except in.. your parallel, your cousin appears to have not arrived on Earth."

"So he could be somewhere else."

"Or he might never have been born. Our Kara Zor-El was a teenager when she got into her pod, but from what you've said, it sounds like you were younger."

She nods. "I've been on Earth since I was a baby."

"I can give you a cultural and historical database if you want. No trouble."

"I guess it's worth having in case someone else turns up."

I nod, fabricating an ultra-density data stick and floating it over to her. She takes it with a nod of gratitude.

"So where's your alter ego?"

"I don't know. No one's mentioned him. There might not be one, he might have died during…" I look around at the wrecked city below us. "This, or he might have taken one look at the place and legged it. Which is a pretty rational thing to do."

"You said you fixed it. Why couldn't he?"

"Without wanting to get too much into emotional spectrum theory, I'm a lot more powerful than a standard Lantern. And I had external help."

"People from the… What did you call them, Justice League?"

"Ah… My Superman, yes. The rest were from Earth Ten, because demon cultists from here had opened portals to there and were making attacks."

"Earth Ten?"

"Nazi Earth." She stares. "I know, they're a… Fixer upper. We're working on it."

"You're fixing Nazis?"

I generate another data stick and float it over to her. "A full analysis of their history, culture and my efforts to aid Overman and Overgirl as they try to reform them."

"I got disturbed by Commander Scott making a deal with the dominators because the JSI has been on a hate campaign against them for as long as I can remember. The idea that he talked to them, handed people over, goes against everything the JSI has been saying. I saw you react when he admitted it… But you're fine with actual Nazis?"

"My Alan Scott is a good friend of mine. Hearing something I don't think he'd ever say said so casually shocked me. And it… Made me re-examine my own thinking, because… I've done a lot worse than Commander Scott and I've been about as bothered by it as he is. But Nazis are just Nazis, you know? Probably the worst idea to ever come out of Europe. And when the few I actually like are the ones who realise that their society is messed up but don't know how to fix it… I'm not a Nazi. I've never been tempted by the idea. There's no personal connection there. It's not that I think Commander Scott is morally worse or anything."

She appears somewhat mollified.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'll think a little better about my colleagues who are less ruthless than me. Probably make a bit more effort to hold back in fights. No more 'I don't see any point in keeping you alive'. You?"

"If I'm being promoted off the front lines, I'm not going to have the opportunities to change how I fight. I could try being less ruthless, but that's going to create a lot more problems if I try making it policy."

"I don't know what to suggest. Try talking to Lantern Jordan, see if there's any species in the region you could ally with. I've started a program to provide funding to extreme scientists in order to encourage them to stay on the straight and narrow."

She nods. "We've got an internal program, but I could expand it."

"Beyond that… If I knew the answers, I'd have solved the problem."

My ring shimmers as Lantern Holt transmits a new request.

"Back to work, then."

 

[Mr Zoat]

28th November 2012
11:41 GMT -5

Alan smiles at me as he sees me poring over hard copy SOPs on his dinner table.

"Going over the procedure documents from the Justice Society International?"

"No. These are yours."

"The Justice League?"

"The All-Star Squadron." I sit back slightly. "I'd have looked at the Justice Society's as well, but it turns out that you never wrote any."

"There weren't really enough of us to need them." He walks over and picks up a briefing paper from the US Marine Corps, defining the proper procedures for contacting the Squadron and defining lines of command. "I… I gotta tell yah, I don't remember this at all."

"I imagine that they just told you what you were supposed to do when you were supposed to do it." I frown. "I know you were working for Stars and Stripes as Alan Scott, but I still can't quite get my head around how you were able to maintain a secret identity for the whole thing."

He sits down opposite me. "Who's to say I did?"

"The House Committee on Un-American Activities?"

"Well, yeah, but let's say… Some people had some surprising memory lapses when they got called to testify." He puts it down, gazing into the middle distance. "Do you think they were all that different from us?"

"No idea."

He makes an amused hissing noise. "It's okay to speculate a little."

"No."

"Really?"

"I can see how you from the forties might be motivated to expand the Justice Society. And I can see how it could have grown from there. Seventy years on, a you who'd been constantly fighting and directing others to fight would naturally have become more ruthless." I shrug. "And he still had a green ring, which makes him more likely to push on rather than hold back and think things through."

"Huh."

"I can change my answer to 'yes' if you prefer?"

"No, no, it's…" A quiet huff. "So you think I should skip my turn as Justice League Chairman?"

"I don't know. You've got a blue ring, and it's influencing you in a different direction. And you've got the opportunity to define yourself in contrast to Commander Scott. I'd be happy for you to be Chairman."

He smirks. I…

I consider rolling my eyes, but don't do it. Instead, I flop back in my chair.

"I didn't get enough data to decide whether the JSI was a clear positive for the world or not. They do act more like… This is just from my conversations with Linda, but like a combination of the most overbearing aspects of the CIA and FBI. But we've had supervillains running countries, and… You were in charge. They weren't doing that thing of…"

Ah.

"Of..? What?" There's a glint in his eyes as he realises where I was going. "Supporting third world dictators?"

"You said the thing with Danner was why you left the Squadron."

"So he did more thing like… That?"

"The JSI has removed governments, and they have performed extraordinary renditions be-."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Kidnapping suspects in foreign countries without following normal extradition procedures. Of course, they've got official permission to go just about anywhere they want now, and the places where they don't have permission to go aren't places that have any effective way of stopping them."

"Sounds like they've taken over the world."

"I've never really been clear what that would be like. Somewhere like America, if someone took over the Federal Government the rest of the country would just ignore it. If some idiot with a doomsday bomb managed to make the governments of the world bend their knees, so what? He wouldn't get a fat lot of compliance from their citizens."

"Is that a 'no'?"

"It's a 'they've taken control of the parts they want, and the rest is giving them the funding they need to operate'. After that, taking control of anything else would just mean being greedy and probably create more trouble than it's worth."

"Most people who might try and take over the world wouldn't worry about being greedy. That's how we used to beat them."

"'Used to'?"

"These days…" He exhales. "The people who want to take over the world don't come right out and say it. And the rest either aren't that ambitious or they flat out want to destroy it. Even Hitler didn't do what the Sheeda did."

"Like antibiotic-resistant bacteria, if you beat all the ones that aren't resistant, everyone left is."

"I guess that's what you found out with the scry wards." He sighs. "Ah, I need to ask. Rose. Rose… Canton. My Rose."

"I don't.. know if she was pregnant or not. I mean, there's just about enough time for her to have given birth, but I-" I shake my head. "-checked the records of every orphanage in America. None of the children handed in during the period match Miss Hayden and Mister Rice's description. I mean, Miss Hayden was green, that would be on record."

"Not to start with. That came as her powers got stronger. If her powers never activated, she'd look like a regular woman. She'd be.. in her sixties now. And.. I could have been a great grandfather by now."

I reach across the table and pat his left arm with my right hand. He nods absent-mindedly.

"I don't have any leads on Jennifer, but Todd had a connection to the Shadowlands. There are other people who know that place, and I… I need to know for sure."

"The Shade?" He nods, and I nod back. "Do you want me to come?"

"No, I think Richard will respond better if it's just me. No offense."

I nod. "None taken."

"You got any plans? Other than.. all this reading?"

"I'm going to give being a traditional superhero a go for a bit. I.. never really tried it; we were trainees taking orders from Batman and then I went Full Militant Utilitarian. I never really gave it a try and I want to know what it's like."

"You want some pointers?"

"Did you get pointers?"

"I talked to Crimson Avenger a few times, but I guess not." He nods, smiling. "You have fun with that."

"Doesn't seem likely, but who knows?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th November 2012
08:01 GMT

"Some were quite good, but others will not pass the censors."

The Bat shrugs, then takes a sip of tea. I've shown him around my Bir Tawil home, he's made interested noises, and now it's time to talk.

The League... Are more or less in favour of my efforts to make National Socialist Earth less National Socialist. But that doesn't extend to letting me use League resources to keep in touch. Which… Yes, the UN would probably blow their collective tops if they found out that the League were using their funds for something like that. For… Pretty understandable reasons, really.

But it needs to happen, so I've moved Dr. Sivana's relay to Bir Tawil, a little way away from my home. My first attempt at cultural infiltration came in the form of cinema, because even things with no overt anti-National Socialist theme will include cultural assumptions that they don't share. I've been hoping that -with there not having really been external influences on their Earth for sixty years- their censors would be out of practice.

Let's see what the damage was.

"Oh? What was the problem?"

"Oh, it is best not to dwell on the negative. Rather, we should focus on the successes, the things that our societies have in common."

Oh, he obviously knows exactly how I feel about that.

"Bat,-."

"You want to have a brief honest talk about our actual objectives before we retreat into our familiar epistemologies." He nods. "And to find out whether or not I actually know what Overman and Overgirl are doing. Because you lack the confidence in your own intelligence to tease that information out over a period of time."

"I'll have to do that anyway. It's not like I can trust anything you say."

"That's a little harsh. Particularly-" He points his right forefinger at my face. "-given that you can see inside my soul."

"There are ways to block that."

"It's going to be a while before magic becomes acceptable in the Reich. Almost as long as it will take for us to persuade you to give us access to your knowledge of the subject."

"Your Atlantis not sharing?"

"Our Atlanteans were bio-engineered. We did check." He looks away, an odd expression on his lips. "Some in the Ministry of Culture were hopeful that an… Acceptably 'Aryan' magic might be discovered."

"Aryan in style, or as a discrete thing? Because there probably were forms of magic used by whatever people you're referring to as 'Aryan' that weren't used by, say, Africans."

"I wasn't involved in that discussion. But, reading the minutes to try and understand it was like trying to explain the doctrine of the Trinity to a pagan."

"Overgirl told you the Arianism joke, did she?"

"She mentioned the philosophy. My point is that I have no way to prevent you seeing into my soul."

"Still, I'd like to know."

"Anyone who knows him knows that Overman is not happy with things. And anyone who watches his public interviews-. The live ones, I mean. If he wants to reform things… Well." He shrugs. "He may try, and he may succeed or fail. That is the nature of Darwinism."

"And how do you feel about it?"

"Ah, I doubt that I will live long enough to see any major changes. It will be the work of a generation at least. If he wants to standardise the rules for the black reservations, it makes no difference to me. If he wants to change the censorship laws, it makes no difference to me. If he wants to change history lessons in schools, it makes no difference to me. I won't like it, because I'm old and set in my ways, but I recognise that. I doubt that he will change Greater Germany enough to make much difference."

"No?"

"No. He and I are from the same generation. We share an underlying sense of what is normal. I don't believe that he'll do anything too extreme, which is why I am not going to try to acquire kryptonite while I am here."

"I'm not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed."

"Now you know how I feel, even without staring into my soul. So, the films."

"Yes. What was the problem?"

"We liked Sky High. The idea of a central training centre for empowered superhumans has been raised on numerous occasions, but the various institutions of state have never been able to agree on how to make it work. There were clear ideas of hereditary power and responsibility yoked to the good of the state as a whole, and the overt pro-eugenics message played very well. Particularly at the end, with how the superhumans with limited abilities were still able to provide useful 'hero support' while the innately superior hero saved the day."

I… I think that was the exact opposite of-. Different culture. Of course he's going to see things differently.

"The black child wasn't a problem?"

"He was inoffensive. I suppose there is the question of how we treat negro sup-er…" He trails off, looking both amused and confused. "It is a little difficult to know how to refer to them. 'Supernegro'? The Incredibles will not pass the censors due to its freezing negro being too prominent, but the one in Sky High is fine."

"And.. the theme of not underestimating people who were dismissed by the authorities as useless?"

"No, no. If someone surpasses what the authorities believe are their limitations…" He frowns. "What was the line in Gattaca? 'That merely means that we did not measure their potential properly'. The guinea pig girl, for example. How often would being able to turn into a guinea pig realistically be useful? But nonetheless, she kept her wits about her and used it in the one time in her life that it was. A person does not need superpowers to be a good citizen. I do not have superpowers." He leans forward slightly, smiling. "But I am not going to try and arm wrestle Overman. There are things I cannot do, and will never be able to do."

…

"So that's approved?"

"No, it will have to go through the censors, but I cannot imagine what other complaints they could have."

I sigh inwardly.

"And the others?"

"Wall-E was an instructive demonstration of the dangers of lassitude and complacency, as well as decadence and dependence on others."

"Again, no problem with the black characters?"

"National Socialists don't just oppress negros. The negros are just the only ones who survived. There isn't a problem with including negros with other types of degenerate."

"And you don't think there might be a problem with the evil AI who was lying to everyone about the state of Earth?"

"Why would there be?" He grins. "Hah, my little joke. No, that is not a problem because as an AI it is inherently alien. The portrayal of the captain might have been a problem, but amongst a group of degenerates he took the most effort into becoming more than he was. He sought purpose, and in the end found it in working to restore his people's ancestral homeland."

"Toy Story?"

"A bit disturbing, but essentially harmless."

"A Bug's Life?"

"A parasitical culture being defeated by a collective effort led by a valiant hero."

"The Phantom Menace?"

"No. Not because the censors would block it, it just isn't very good." He looks mildly pained. "And the racial allegory was rather unsubtle, don't you think?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd December 2012
08:01 GMT

"May I sit down?"

Zartok's ring has been glowing faintly since I entered the refectory, but the way he's holding his left hand against his right arm means that it's not obvious. He's monitoring me, but isn't looking at me. Everything about his posture suggests that he has no interest in me at all.

He tilts his head upward towards me, an expression of indifference on his face. "You may sit where you like, Illustres."

And the way his desires are in flux makes it a little difficult to divine his true feelings on the matter. Honestly, I imagine that it would obscure it from most Lanterns.

I find myself smiling. I wrote that such a technique was probably possible, but I never really bothered learning it myself.

"Thank you." I sit down. "Congratulations on your victory."

"Two Scarab Warriors will make little difference in a war of this scale."

"True, but it's a sign of your increasing mastery that you were able to do it. You took on board what I said. That sort of fixity of purpose paired with flexibility of method is something I heartily approve of."

"You have done more."

"I'm the Illustres. And I had a year to train without a war going on, and while I know that you're familiar with a great many weapons there isn't anything quite like a power ring."

For a moment his control weakens and his face nearly forms an expression. Then it snaps back.

"Very well. I acknowledge your compliment."

"I also like the way you're muddling your desires like that. I could see it eventually becoming a technique that could keep me out."

He stops bothering to disguise how he feels, the expression of frustrated irritation painting itself across his features.

"What do you want?"

"I had a conversation recently that made me think of you. I wanted to make sure that you understood why I did what I did. To make sure that there was no ongoing misunderstanding that might harm our professional relationship."

He tilts his head back slightly. "You fear that I will grow to eclipse you."

"Oh, no. By all means, eclipse me."

His eye narrows. "Do not mock me."

"I'm not mocking you. This is why we need to talk." He relaxes slightly, but it's clear that he's still suspicious. "We're Orange Lanterns. We train to realise and harness our avarice. To harness our need to reform the universe into something more pleasing to us. But I think that you're assuming that what I want is the same as what you want."

"Explain."

"I caused this Corps to come into being. But I picked Vril Dox to run it. If my motive was to gain power and authority, why would I do that?"

"Because he's a functionary. When I ruled Cardonia I had administrators serving me and ruling in my name. I may have spent most of my time leading my armies, but all of their power came from me."

"Dox is one of the few Lanterns I don't think I could beat in a fight."

He clearly doesn't believe me.

"My skill with the orange light is greater than his, but his mind is faster than mine and he knows far more of weaponry than I do. A fight between us would be over in seconds."

"A likely story."

"You've learned to read desires with the orange light, haven't you?"

"Of course I have. But you defy my skill."

I hold out my left hand. "I block remote detection. Touch me."

He considers for a moment, then reaches out with his left hand and takes hold of mine in firm grip, the glow from his ring growing slightly. And I can… Feel it as he connects his awareness of the orange light to me.

"I want the end that is the destruction of the Reach. True?"

His eye narrows. "Yees."

"Do you see any great desire in me for it to happen one way or another?"

"You… Want it to be at the hands of the N.E.M.O. alliance, to bring together all of the people in this region in the aftermath. An interesting way to build an empire."

"Do I want to rule that alliance?"

"…" His eye narrows further. "N.. o…"

He pulls his hand back, eye opening back to the normal extent.

"I misjudged you, Illustres."

"You did." I shrug. "You have questions. Ask them."

"Why Drusa?"

"You have strong desires. She doesn't. She hasn't allowed herself to get attached to things, because attachments were a source of vulnerability. That attitude does have its advantages, but an Orange Lantern needs to desire things. Beating her in a fight would merely encourage subservience. I needed to speak to her about her thought processes instead."

"Why did you single me out?"

"You were encouraging a mindset that was not helpful to the other trainees learning well. By challenging you and demonstrating your error, I motivated you to learn what you have. And you are stronger for it."

"My staff fighting instructor had a similar attitude. When my skill surpassed his, I killed him."

"Lantern Ragnar joined the Corps after I defeated him in an arena match. He plans on challenging me again once his skill has increased sufficiently for it to be worthwhile. If you want revenge, you'd best keep working at it if you want to kill me before he does."

"The idea of your death doesn't trouble you."

"The idea of yours troubles you?"

"I do not fear death, but I would be frustrated if I died with my ambitions unrealised."

"I've made arrangements. But my ego is tied to the changes I've made in the universe. If my death is part of making my Corps stronger, then so be it."

He considers for a moment.

"I understand. I think I even respect it. But be warned, Illustres: it will be my hand that kills you."

"I wish you the best of luck, Lantern Zartok."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th December 2012
15:24 GMT

"So, yeah. That's where I'm coming from. As far as I'm concerned, killing you would be a net positive for the universe, but… My favourite philosophers are a couple called John Stuart Mill and Harriet Taylor. Mill was originally a utilitarian, but one day he had a sort of brainstorm where he realised that even if he was successful in implementing utilitarianism across British society, it wouldn't make him happy."

The Spider Guild elders of Chughraghahh continue cowering in abject terror.

"I'm not quite like him. I probably would find killing you satisfying, and it would certainly promote the general good better than any other option. But as long as you stop being evil, I'll consider it to be just as good."

I smile pleasantly as I look them in the eyes one after another-.

One of the older ones collapses, clutching his thorax. Only those closest to him dare move, and they only lean away slightly.

Orange strands join me to the Spider Guilder currently… Not a heart attack, apparently. Rather, his digestive system has gone into overdrive and his own digestive enzymes have eaten through his stomach. Flip a few biological switches, repair the organs… And render him peacefully unconscious, because it looks like he hasn't been getting enough sleep.

I suppose there is a bit of an environmental catastrophe going on outside, from where I launched all of their orbital infrastructure at the planet.

"So how about it? You pledge your loyalty to the Queen and reform your society, and I'll help you get back on your feet."

I deposit my patient off to the side.

"What..?" There's a shuffling as his neighbours move away from the speaker. "Whatwillweeat?"

"Farming isn't that complicated. You're perfectly capable of raising animals -non-sophont animals- for slaughter, like most of your neighbours do. Or you can grow meat in vats. You're a technologically sophisticated world, it's well within your abilities."

And I feel-hear it, the sound-shape of their worldstate collapsing as they get it through their heads that this isn't a temporary hardship, but the end of the Proper Way Of Doing Things.

"So why don't you talk about this amongst yourselves, and I'll pop back in a day or so and find out where you've gotten to?"

I

step out,

reappearing on the bridge of a Karaxian battleship serving as part of the interdiction fleet. It seems that the local civilised worlds have used the opportunity I provided to tighten the noose a little. Not enough to end things, but combined with the economic damage I inflicted the local Spider Guild sept is being choked out.

"I said I'd give them a day to think it over."

There's a sort of diffusion of responsibility-based looking around between the senior officers, then the commanding admiral nods at Lantern Toren.

"Your… Queen."

"The Queen."

"I don't understand."

"My queen, the queen of my home nation, is a woman called Hippolyta. The Queen is a heavily altered Spider Guilder created by the sept in Vega as some sort of prototype living genetic engineering laboratory. Under her leadership they have developed excellent relations with their neighbours, and if they surrender to her instead of you, you won't have to worry about any other sept sending a retaliation fleet this way."

He nods.

"I have reviewed Lantern Green Man's records. She is at the mercy of all of her neighbours and building them ships for free. I doubt that these Spiders will acquiesce to that degree."

"There's always Plan B. But I think I'm going to be optimistic."

"If they do not accept, will you kill them all?"

"I probably should, but, no. Instead, I'll transport them to barely habitable worlds with no intelligent life, and they can relearn civilisation or die in accordance with their own merits."

"There are still a great many people alive on Chughraghahh, as well as their smaller colonies."

"I'm immortal. Or as close as anything can be. I've got the time and the motivation. I'm hopeful that even if I have to start, the rest will see that I'm serious after a few days and concede."

"And then?"

"And then I'll fly some of the Queen's people over here to oversee the transition to not-evil, while you and your friends park their ships in orbit with their guns pointing down just in case."

The admiral nods. "With no need to occupy their worlds."

"Occupying worlds is a ridiculous prospect. Once the population gets culturally unified it's basically impossible for a civilisation of a similar level of advancement unless their population is massively higher. I-."

"Admiral!"

A deck officer gestures at the tracking… Why is that ship heading for Chughraghahh?

The admiral grabs a handset, looking concerned.

"Hesk, what are you doing? We agreed-."

"We should have done it this way long ago. We lacked the resolve, the strength of soul! No longer! End t-."

I frown. That sounded off. He didn't look anything like that orange during the briefing. I turn my head and stare out through the hull towards his position. The Spider Guild still have ships but their planetary shields are gone. If that flotilla burns for the planet and performs a ground strike-.

I see his desires, his martial drives and need to inflict retribution… Even his desire for renown, are massively inflamed compared to what I saw earlier. And it's.. not just him, the rest of his flotilla look similar. Someone has mucked around with them. I could do that but it wasn't me. The Lanterns on Karax for self-study could probably do it, but there's no reason for them to do so. If they wanted to wreck the place then they're more than capable of doing it themselves. Who did this, who did this?

"Should we.. intercept?"

I hear the distaste in the admiral's voice. They might be afraid to push the attack, but the idea of acting against someone attacking their ancestral enemy naturally rankles.

"I believe that the crew are under an unnatural mental influence. I'm working to counter it. If it comes to it, I'll stop their ships myself. Stand by."

Show me a face.

Ah I see it. They spoke to-.

The face turns to look at me. That's not meant to happen.

"Oh look at you. It's high time we had a little chat, snake man. My place, I think."

That-.

Where am I?

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th December 2012
15:29 GMT
I Think

The room is… White.

The thick carpet is white, and so thick and soft that just looking at it makes me want to take off my boots and socks and squirm my toes in it. The settee I'm sitting on is soft white leather with white-stained wood panelling. The walls are white, with white frames containing white on white images. There's a white wood table upon which sits a white bowl containing white fruit.

And the ceiling…

I can't see the ceiling. Just a… Vague source of light, illuminating clearly but not blindingly.

My right hand drifts down the side of the settee, and… And that's a D-ring. And that's a D-ring, and… That's a white coil of rope partially disguised as a table decoration.

"How worried should I be?"

"Oh, sweetums. How worried do you want to be?"

A.. person, in a white suit, shirt and tie walks down a white spiral staircase. Their hair is black, jet black, and slicked back in such a way that I can't make out hairs and it just looks like a solid mass. Their skin is similarly pale, though compared to our surroundings it stands out like a beacon. The figure… Can't tell whether they're male or female, and my rings appear to have decided not to help. Given the suit I'd have guessed butch woman over effeminate man, but I shouldn't project human norms onto an alien. Especially a selectively corporeal one.

"Do I have the pleasure of addressing Desire?"

They pause on the last circuit of the staircase, leaning artfully on the railing and looking down at me like a… Well, like an ancient eldritch being who has found a new amusement.

"Shouldn't you answer my question first?"

I shrug. "I don't particularly enjoy being worried. Jade and I both tried it; it's not our thing."

"It's not just about sex, dear boy."

They unlean, continuing their descent with one hand gracefully tracing the banister as they complete their journey.

"I understand that you're all about purpose. If you weren't worried about something, would you get out of bed in the morning?"

"For those who seek perfection, there is no rest this side of the grave. And in.. my case, not even then. You decided to egg Admiral Hesk on, then?"

"O-H." They hug themselves, arms crossing under their pectorals and hands pressed to their hips. "You did most of the work for me. The Spider Guild must be destroyed! All that-" They roll their eyes. "-pointless fear and hesitancy receded and a few words was all that was required to send them off."

"You mean… Down in a blaze of glory."

They turn sideways and flop languidly onto the seat opposite me.

"They get to be remembered in story and song, and die knowing to the depths of their souls that they're finally doing the right thing."

I nod. Yeah, I'm…

"You in good health? Eating well, that sort of thing?"

Desire blinks, then gestures to their body with both hands.

"Does this make me look fat?"

"I'm reasonably confident that you can look as fat or as thin as you want. I'm asking about how well you are."

"Fit as a fiddle, never been better. … Thank you for asking?"

"You sure? Not picking fights with Morpheus or anything like that?"

They pantomime a look of disappointed sternness. "You aren't planning on trying to intervene on his behalf, I hope. That would be most unwise."

"I know what happens when Endless die. We've met before, on the moon. And now I'm here, and my tattoos don't have an off button. I'm absorbing your magic, which, along with my connection to the orange light, puts me in prime position to succeed you if you die."

Their face stills, their eyes narrowing with curiosity.

"I don't want to be Desire. I want you to live until the end of the universe when Death finally does away with you, while I step smartly into a younger universe-"

"Abandoning the universe for a younger model? How cliché."

"-with a jaunty wave. I don't know how you relate to either me or the Ophidian and I don't care."

"But you know what happens when we die? You shouldn't be able to know that." They grin. "Tell me more."

"If you agree to butt out and not take umbrage when I try to stop Admiral Hesk, I'll-"

"Done!"

"-hap-. Ah, okay. One of you dies, the rest of your family get the shroud from the necropolis, you each do a funeral oration and then the deceased sails off into oblivion. And is then completely forgotten by everyone except their immediate successor. Which makes me wonder why you're focusing on Morpheus, when you know that even if you're successful you won't remember it."

"It's not always about the outcome, dearie." They idly stroke the arm of their chair with their left hand. "But out of curiosity, since you're so concerned, who would have taken over from my dear brother?

"The book I read said it was Daniel Hall, but the Daniel I know has lived a very different life to the Daniel in the book. Though please don't do anything stupid like trying to get him killed; whatever you do it will be someone."

"Why hurt the boy when I can just hold it over my brother's head?"

"Up to you. Look, we're both busy people. Do you want anything else, or can I go back to reality now?"

"Is that it? You're face to face with Desire, and all you want to do is leave?"

"I don't want to sound like a total sigma here, but yes. I realise my own desires. I've got plenty of my own motivation and I don't need your help. And.. I.. also read a story about a man being decapitated one day after he married the woman he wanted, so I'm a little concerned about how helpful your help would actually be."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read."

"True, but it's been more accurate than not."

"Well then! Back you go. You'd best hurry, dear Hesk was quite set on it."

"Thank-"

And I'm in space watching Hesk's ship's gun ports open.

"-you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th December 2012
15:33 GMT

Hesk's gun ports open, but the rest of his flotilla isn't in any position to join in.

Ground-based anti-orbital guns generally aren't the best way of shooting down spacecraft, but the Spiders are making do with what they have. Some sort of… Space-warp assisted positron beam? They haven't got a lot of them into position to fire on the oncoming ships and I can see parts of their cities brown out with the strain of actually powering the things, but that one just wrecked a cruiser with a single shot.

Spider Guild ships are killing Hesk's support ships, but-

I feel a moment of disgust as I recognise their formation.

-that's at least in part because they're deliberately sacrificing themselves to make sure that Hesk gets into bombardment position. He could take far fewer casualties if he was putting in even the slightest effort at engaging the Guilder fleet. This isn't an attack that might be a one way trip. This is a deliberate one way trip.

Probably around two thousand pointless deaths already. Classic Desire.

Uh…

Shield!

Railgun rounds from Hesk's bombardment cannons slam into my construct shield and with my heart not entirely in it my shield actually-

Incoming transmission.

Answer.

-cracks as the cannons recharge their capacitors.

"Get out of the way, Lantern! This needs to happen!"

"What changed since the-"

The bombardment cannons fire again and my shield cracks further and I have to decide between attacking his ship and just letting his shots hit.

"-briefing? I have reason to believe that you are being externally-"

A positron beam hits my shield from the other side as the Spider Guild try shooting the ship that's about to flatten their favourite continent, smashing my shield to pieces!

THAT'S NOT HELPFUL!

Ah, point defence lasers, target and-.

Eight heavy projectiles blast past me, heading for the planet. Point defence lasers fire, heating up the near-side of the slugs, causing vaporised metal to expand and push them off target. Frantically, I try connecting-. There we go, the Spider's aerial point defence control. Send them my targetting data and hope they hit the.. two which are still going to hit the ground. Shield back up.

"-influenced. Please desist-"

Ring, message to Lantern Toren and Lantern Xor. Ask them to tow the crippled ships out of the system.

Compliance.

"-in attacking until-."

"Never! We may die, but we will live on in song and story as the people who slew the Spiders!"

A flicker of orange and Xalitan appears, wrapping a wounded cruiser in an orange bubble and dragging it away, the Guilder ships killing it getting a clue at once and moving on.

I'm not doing well at this whole 'classical hero' thing. And I can tell, because the first thing that comes to mind is mind controlling the crew.

But Desire doesn't mind control people. They just nudge them into doing things they wanted to do anyway, or guides them into how to achieve it. And I don't want to be a worse person than Desire and I'm not-.

What would Alan do?

My shield leaps upwards, enveloping the ship as I pull! The railgun rounds punch through my shield easily enough, but they're not pointing where the targetting computer thinks they are any longer and-

Ring, check flight path?

An orange dotted line appears in my field of vision, showing that the shots will miss the planet entirely.

Thank you.

-so with a little help from my point defences they're off target.

And pull the ship away, keeping their guns pointed away from the planet-. Or at least any guns that could do meaningful damage.

"Ring, contact Admiral Hesk's homeworld."

Compliance.

I wince slightly as Hesk's ship opens fire with its point defences to try and break my grip. Unlike my lasers, they use railshotguns, magnetically charged barrels firing clouds of iron filings.

"Illustres. How goes it?"

And they're having trouble but they are making progress. My construct strength-. It's just not clear cut enough for me to muster my peak strength. And now they're deploying their ship-to-ship guns and firing those, even knowing that they'll damage their own ship using them like this. They don't care. They just want to bombard the planet and everything else is disregarded.

"Admiral Hesk decided to launch an attack unsupported before talks were concluded. I'm trying to evacuate what's left of his flotilla."

"What? But-!"

"Please order him to des-"

Positron beams from the surface hit again, slicing through my construct as Hesk orders full burn from his thrusters to fight my control!

"-ist."

"Why would-?"

"Now please!"

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Thank you. Hang up. Ring, contact Strand Elders."

Compliance.

"Illustres, you said that we had until-."

"Admiral Hesk has lost his reason. I'm dragging his ships off, stop shooting this one!"

"Which on-?"

"His command ship! The big one with the bombardment cannons that I'm trying to keep pointing away from you!"

"We can shoot the rest?"

"If they're attacking you, fire away. However, it may be easier-. Damn it!"

My construct grip on Hesk's ship shatters again and his ship spins violently! I grab and pull again, but I can't stop the spin before their guns are on-target again! Right, that-.

They fire, and the ring tells me that the shots are all on target.

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th December 2012
15:35 GMT

Eight construct spear jab through the ship's shields and silence the bombardment cannons in a series of small electrical discharges. Their capacitors recharge fast, but hitting them right after they fire should minimise the risk of a explosion or dis-

I watch as a single orange light goes out.

-charge, darn it.

My point defence lasers are already firing as I turn and fly towards the ground. Between the angle and the delay only two are fully deflected-. An unstable orbit that will see them come down in a couple of years. For the others, the most I've done is alter the angle, which should hopefully make them easier to intercept. Completely vaporising the shells isn't a good idea, as the vapour keeps its kinetic energy and usually goes from a kinetic impactor to a kineticobaric blaster. Even getting the Guilders to hit them with their positron beams would… Yes, they've entered the atmosphere, cause such a huge explosion and electromagnetic discharge that it would probably be better just to let it hit.

And just teleporting wouldn't help me because I have to have my constructs match velocity in order to catch them.

Okay, okay, zeta tube? Yes, zeta radiation would probably work. Can't just teleport ahead and bounce them because the zeta system needs a few seconds to actually trigger, but it's still better than trying to grab them manually. Set up a construct relay over there and… Faster, damn it. Alan would catch up like-. Yes, good. Zeta tube construct forward and that's the first slug shooting off into space because the zeta tube preserves kinetic energy but not vector.

Agh, Hesk fired them as a spread, plotting most efficient intercept course, and-.

"Lantern Xor, if-"

Head for that one, partially deflected, if I just knock it aside it would probably head back out of the atmosphere but it's really no more effort to zeta tube it, gone, good.

"-you have a-"

Turn without losing momentum, be willing to lose more altitude if that's what it takes to get ahead because they're definitely going to catch up, gaining on that slug with that one within striking distance.

"-moment, I would-"

The slugs are heating up. I can actually see them deforming, and not just from my point defence shots. I think I should be very mildly relieved that these weapons appear to be designed to pierce deeply buried bunkers rather than ravage a planet's surface. Alright, slightly lower rate of acceleration and generate a zeta tube directly ahead-. Gone.

"-appreciate your assistance."

Slight change of angle and accelerate, drop the zeta construct to remove air resistance and create a new one ahead, ring calculations show that I'm probably going to be on time.

"Illustres, Hesk is refusing to-"

Slight shift to the right, drop and recreate zeta tube, third slug gone.

"-acknowledge my orders-"

Aaaand next one's further away. The Spiders are trying to evacuate, but when you're worried that your planet is going to be bombarded from everywhere there isn't really anywhere to run to so they've only just started getting people out of Hesk's line of sight.

"-and his crew support him."

Not surprised. And there's not going to be a remote control for the ship because that would be stupid.

"We're condemning them for mutiny."

"Understood."

So I can kill them all and their government won't care, because even if they were on the fence about exterminating the local Spider Guild they're not going to tolerate an Admiral violating orders. And maybe I shouldn't have raised the issue with them, because now they know that no one is answering their commands they're probably going to execute anyone who survives.

Darn it. Worry later.

Next intercept is coming up. This one is heading for an already-evacuated industrial centre. Stopping it won't save many lives, but it will make integrating it into the local economy a good deal easier.

Closer.

Close-.

I feel it as the zeta tube outside of the atmosphere is destroyed.

What? What?!

Hesk turned his point defences on my construct! I can't-. I can make an additional zeta tube down here, but with the added time and air resistance…

Not sure that I'll make it.

Try anyway, of course. I may not be an ideal hero but I'd like to give myself a 'C' at least.

Getting lower, so I can see the larger streets with my naked eyes. This time two zeta tubes and I wince at the sudden increase in air resistance and the increased distance to my other targets. That one gone, but I'm… There's no slack, so add that in to each catch-. No, too long.

Zeta tubes gone, heading for the next target. What can I do what can I do?

Kinetic barrier? I could get one in front of them, but I'm.. not sure that it would absorb the kinetic energy cleanly. I never actually found out whether Terminus uses them like this and this isn't a good place to experiment. On the other hand, I doubt it would be worse than letting them hit the ground.

What else?

The only other thing is trying to… Eat kinetic energy. Which might be possible, but again, I don't really want to experiment with that in this situation.

Okay, another slug. Can I improve the process? Start angling towards the next one as I generate them. Won't increase my speed enough to get them all, but might give me a little extra thinking time.

Fourth slug caught and sent back into space. Two left. Too far apart. Not enough time.

One going to city, industrial and residential. Population in bunkers, not sufficient. Shockwaves will kill most of them.

Other going to primary space port, power generation centre and defence installation. Will cripple economy and make Guild unable to defend the planet because I can very easily see Desire whispering to someone else because why not.

Obvious decision. I turn towards the city. The Queen can rebuild the space port and the locals can rebuild generators, but I can't easily bring that many people back from the dead. It's also the traditionally superheroic thing to do, but that's not my first thought.

I send an evacuation message to the area that will be affected, and… I'll try blocking it, but I'm not going to have time for anything reliable. Too bad.

Closer, closer, and I can hear the screams now as the streak the railgun round is making across the sky is very obvious. Unnecessary, as I am going to get there in time to stop this one, and I-. I can see the lights dimming and vanishing as the Guilders are injured or killed in their panic as they desperately try to escape.

Sorry about the spaceport, and a respectful nod to the Guilders who stayed at their positions.

One last zeta tube pair -slug rebounded- and then-.

What?

An orange shield envelopes the spaceport, thick and multi-layered and flexible enough to bleed off some of the kinetic energy. I transition into close proximity, unifying my purpose with Lantern Xor as we work together to block the shot. Air set on fire takes a cold beam, pressure waves are absorbed by kinetic barriers.

We don't get everything. Quite a lot of the area looks like it's been sand blasted and a lot of the more delicate electronics will need to be replaced. But that was a success.

Xalitan nods at me, his awareness extending into the Honden.

"Illustres. I have learned enough to return to the war."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th December 2012
06:55 GMT -5

Kal-El nods. "Sounds like things went well, then."

"I achieved my political objective. But that wasn't the point. Would you have done that?"

"I…" And I'm rather pleased to see him think his answer through better than he used to. "I wouldn't have handled it quite like that, no. But I can't say that I've ever had to deal with something quite like that before." He looks mildly constipated for a moment. "Do they really eat people?"

"You did read the report I wrote-"

"Good Lord, yes."

He smiles as he says it, but it's more than a little strained.

"-where I said they were number three on my hit list? Also, I'm glad that you're reading my reports and appreciate the effort you've made to improve yourself."

"I'm not sure that came out quite right, but I'll take it."

"Normally I'd.. just ignore that jab, but… I do actually mean it. I don't want you to think that I'm going to hold a grudge forever or anything. If you hadn't started reading reports then, yes, we wouldn't be having this conversation, but you're too good a person to reject sound advice."

"Alright." He nods. "Thank you. What happened next?"

"Xalitan isn't enlightened, but he's reached a level of skill where we're calling his training a success. Dox wants him to go to the front lines so that we can better assess exactly how much better he's gotten, then he'll form part of our training cadre. We've already circulated documentation to the rest of the Corps on what we did, so hopefully the ones with the most initiative will use that to improve their own training."

"Ah, good, but I meant 'what happened next to Chugragah'."

"With a heady combination of fear and gratitude, the Strand Elders acquiesced. I brought the Queen over the next day, they had a fairly civilised chat about how to switch from an import economy to an export economy, and they were kind enough to hand over all of the contact information for their merchant contacts."

"The slave traders."

"Yes."

"I realise they have it coming-."

"No." I shake my head. "No. I left that to the Green Lantern Corps. They're not major military powers and can be handled by police. Besides, I'm trying to be less violent at the moment."

"Blue Lantern mentioned something about that. That… Seems like a big departure for you."

"It is."

"Were the Justice Society International really that bad?"

"No. But for me, there's no distinction between wanting an end and wanting the means. Like… I imagine that if you really had to kill someone, you'd do it, but you'd probably feel bad about it afterwards."

"I'm… Not sure what you mean by 'had to'. I suppose there are some things… Some fights where I couldn't risk holding back. And if that happened, then… Yes. I would feel bad about it."

"That's not what I meant. But okay. The point is, I wouldn't. Usually, that requires all sorts of mental hoop-jumping or actual psychosis. For me, it doesn't. So if I think an end is worth going for, I don't worry about the means. Morally, I mean. Obviously I worry whether they're really the best way to achieve that end."

"That's a little worrying. Are you still talking to Guy and Dinah?"

"Not in the therapeutic sense."

"Do you think maybe you should?"

"No. As a result of my exposure to the orange light, my thought processes are too different from human baselines for a normal psychiatrist to apply their knowledge to. My point is that the JSI showed me that something I thought was desirable might not be. They were a well-organised world-spanning superhero organisation, ruthless when it was useful to be and friendly when it wasn't. They were exactly what I was advocating for."

"And it didn't look so good when you saw what it was actually like."

"Exactly. It probably achieves more good in the long term… Or even the medium term." I shake my head. "But I still don't want it, so I'm having a bit of a rethink."

"That sounds like a good step to take. You certainly gave me a few things to think about. It's nice to know that you're not so set in your ways that you can't take a step back."

"Right, so I've got a request. You're probably the.. second most Golden Agey superhero I know. It's not an approach that comes naturally to me, and I'd appreciate the opportunity to study how it works for you."

"You…" He raises his eyebrows. "Want to be my sidekick?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I… Wasn't expecting… 'Second most'?"

"Captain Marvel is the most, but I'm concerned that I'd have an undue influence on him."

"What about Diana? Or Alan?"

"Both killed people during World War Two. Also, they both like me more than you do."

"You're a… A lot to take in."

"Says Superman."

"I work pretty long hours."

"I make my own hours. I can spend my entire day in Metropolis without any difficulty, just hanging around until 'a job for Superman' turns up."

"You realise that you being here is going to mean that there won't be as many of those as usual?"

"Prevention is better than cure. Look, if you don't want me to hang around, that's fine. I get it. I've got far too big a body count to act surprised. But I'm.. strongly considering changing my modus operandi by addressing the behaviours that concern you, and will happily follow your directions."

He takes a slow breath.

"And you'll do what I say."

"I've dealt civilly with unrepentant Nazis, the biggest arsehole in my Corps and serial killing cannibals. I can follow instructions from you. As long as it's not something stupid like 'get a civilian identity'."

"No, I think the boat already sailed on that one. Alright. I've got things to do-"

Go to work, which isn't something that he's going to mention in the open. Even if Lex Luthor almost certainly knows, plenty of other intelligent criminals in Metropolis don't.

"-right now, but I'll check in with you in a few hours. Okay?"

"Certainly. Thank you for this opportunity. I'm sure that I can find something productive to do while you're away."

He exhales slowly then nods, before turning and flying away.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th December 2012
15:23 GMT -5

"Do you kids-"

The cluster of children standing around the power transformer look up in astonishment.

"-own that fence?"

"Superman?"

I frown slightly. Alright, I haven't bothered actually researching the statistics on the whole 'broken windows' thing, but I can't help but think that this isn't an efficient-.

That's not the point.

"That's my name." I can hear him smiling as he says it, arm folded as he comes in to land. "Listen, kids. I can understand wanting an outlet for your artistic talents, but electric substations like this are dangerous. There's enough power in these wires to give you a serious injury."

In Gotham, even today, I'd give even odds that they'd be pointing the cans at… Say, Batman, with the aim of temporarily blinding him so they can either escape or stab him. But with Superman the children are lowering them or half-heartedly trying to hide them behind their backs.

"Sorry, Superman."

"Not as sorry as your parents would be if you ended up in the hospital. Why don't you kids head home?"

Eyes downcast, the children head out through the wooden gate and back onto the street. Kal-El watches them go for a moment, then looks up at me.

"You mind fixing the gate?"

I nod, scanning… Huh. The padlock is lying on the ground, still connected to the hasp. Looks like the screws just pulled out of the wood of the gate. A little odd, but over a sufficiently long period of time…

I repair the structure of the gate, reattach the lock mechanism and close it up.

"Do you think it's worth putting netting over the top?"

"No, that should do it. Kids will walk through an open gate, but mostly they won't break into a place like this."

"Unless they kick a ball over." Hm. "I could add a sign outside with the number to phone if they do kick a ball over?"

"That's a thoughtful idea."

There's a glow of orange as it appears.

"So what's your mobile number again?"

He looks mildly amused. Very mildly amused.

"We call them 'cells' on this side of the Atlantic. And I think the Metropolis Power Authority would be the people to call. I wouldn't want to disappoint someone because I was fighting a monster when they wanted their kite back."

"Yeah, okay."

"Do you do home repairs as well?"

"My maintenance is really more perfective. And I don't like cheating tradesmen out of the business. Unless you want something interesting done covertly that they couldn't do?"

"No, I was just making conversation."

"Because while there's no such thing as kryptonian proof, my time with Kara has given me insight into kryptonian resistant. If you and Ms. Lane are planning on having children, you might find it advantageous to make sure they won't wreck the place."

He looks slightly awkward, perhaps remembering collateral damage from his own childhood.

"I'll keep you in mind. What did you think?"

"It probably wouldn't have occurred to me to mention their parents."

"Not going to say that it's not a good use of my time?"

"Ah… It's not, but given the time it would take from noticing they were in here, to phoning the police or Power Company, and them sending someone, it's actually pretty reasonable in terms of efficiency."

"And..?"

"And?"

"Guy told me it was usually worth asking you what you weren't including in your first answer."

"And… It's worth expending quite a lot to keep you motivated and on an even keel. Good social bonds are an essential part of a person's psychological wellbeing, human or kryptonian, and this sort of activity makes you a part of Metropolis's community."

"I suppose that's true. I hadn't really thought about it in those terms before. I mostly just think of it as 'being nice'."

"And that's exactly why I'm here."

"I'm.. not sure why that's so hard for you."

"It's not. It's just that I'm aware of all of the things I could be doing instead of being nice."

He folds his arms across his chest. "Such as?"

"Fighting the Reach. My presence would reduce the fatalities amongst N.E.M.O. forces significantly in any fight I involved myself in. Dox prefers it if I stay as a reserve so the Reach can't develop a counter to me as easily, and so our side doesn't get dependent. And I can't fight them all by myself. But it would mean a lot fewer people on our side dying in the short term. Maybe even on the Reach side, if I can disable ships without destroying them more easily than anyone else on our side."

"Can't do much about Apokolips, but the Dominion and other parts of the Spider Guild are good targets. Or I could track down Sinestro. Killing or capturing him would improve relations with the Green Lantern Corps and stop whatever he's planning. Or just find a random planet trapped by Avleb's Wall and give them a few bleed torsion generators to get them started."

"I'm sorry, what's that?"

"Avleb's Wall? That's when a planet doesn't have enough accessible fuel for industrial civilisation to develop."

He nods. "I remember you bringing up the concept in your talk. I just didn't know the name. Are they common?"

"Yes, very common. Honestly, I've.. sort of wondered whether Krypton was in the same place before the Vrang arrived."

"Krypton didn't have a fuel shortage."

"No, but your forebears might have needed technology more advanced than they could develop without it to access it. Technologically sophisticated technology took off on Krypton after the Vrang were defeated. I know the official history says that that happened because everyone saw the necessity, with a few rogue historians implying that it was copying Vrang technology that made it possible for it to happen so quickly. But-."

"But it might have been fuel." He nods. "Because they brought in mining equipment."

"Yes." I shrug. "But all those children might have gotten electrocuted due to their own foolishness while I was busy saving billions. So what's next?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th December 2012
15:23 GMT +1

"…returning from Ungara within a few days."

I bring up the star chart.

"We're not expecting any real difficulty en route, so President Horne and I have organised a formal reception. Lex will be doing a… An internationalist speech, 'brotherhood of men' and not 'community of nations'." I lay down my notes and look around my colleagues in The Light. "Oh, I've been meaning to ask; how does everyone feel about involving aliens in the fleet?"

Circe turns her head slightly to the side, narrowing her eyes.

"I realise that Earth is your adopted home-."

"Other than me. I mean, as ratings, not administrators. I've been making my children watch Star Trek: the Next Generation, and I thought, you know, we could do that."

Clea shakes her head. "No. Perhaps in a few decades, once the institution is firmly established. Bringing in alien populations without a clear operational culture is simply asking for trouble."

Adom nods. "I am similarly sceptical. If it were a matter of an alliance with another power, I would leave it to you to asses their value. But everything we have learned about our neighbours in the stars is that they are weak and timorous. If we must implant steel in their spines before we can make any use of them…" He nods again. "I would rather wait."

Cranius smiles. "Implant zhe steel in zhe spine is not zo hard."

"Ah?" Richard smiles. "You've worked on aliens?"

"Not on whole ones, no. But zhe humanoid form has certain commonalities. It really would be no great difficulty to adapt zhem. In zhe brain, courage is expressed in zhe structures responsible for group-affiliation. Unless our neighbours are purely solitary creatures coming togezher only to mate, nudging zhem a little is no great task."

Lex's screen makes a small noise at it turns towards Cranius.

"I do not think that editing the brains of our recruits should be our first choice. Even if they are of limited use, there will be a few individuals who stand above their fellows." Another quiet whine from the screen's pedestal. "I am also against including aliens in the organisation. For now, at least."

I nod. "Fair enough. Richard?" He just shrugs. "Circe?"

"Are there magicians on any of them?"

"Other than Mars? No."

"Then I will also vote 'no'."

I nod. "Alright, that's a 'no' for now. Revisit in… Say, five years?" Nods. "Okay, that's me done. Ah… Richard."

"The Justice League have managed not to die for another month. Somehow." He leans forward, eyes peering over the top of his smoking glasses. "Do you know how much kryptonite there is on Earth?"

I shake my head. "Maybe half a tonne?"

"He turned into a giant with a double-digit IQ! I didn't know kryptonite could even do that!"

"I.. think the red stuff can have mutagenic effects..?"

"Consider that confirmed." He leans back, a black tendril restores his glasses to their accustomed perch. "Oh, and it turned out that Ian Karkull survived as a wraith in the Shadowlands. Once he stuck his head out of cover I was able to give him the boot, but you should probably keep an eye out so that Lane doesn't acquire him for his expertise."

"Samuel isn't quite as eager to recruit people likely to cause long term problems as some of his contemporaries, but thank you for the reminder. Any idea what he was up to?"

Richard sneers. "Infecting the minds of mortal men with dreadful visions, so far as I can tell. Though according to him, his original Transareal Beam has some sort of life-extension property. I'll be forwarding a copy of everything the League learned to The Screen."

The Screen displays a green oscilloscope of agreement. "That does sound interesting. Everything you've told me suggests that contact with the Shadowlands is inimical to human health."

"As far as I know, it is. All I can suggest is that it's something to do with how he made the connection, rather than the connection itself. Oh, and naturally Batman already has everything I've got."

"That is of no concern. Batman will work on a way to counter someone else using Karkull's technology. I would be exceedingly surprised if he used it to benefit humanity."

"Good! Good. And I'll get started on working out how to persuade my lady wife to use the thing." He reaches out with his right fist and knocks on the meeting table surface. "Next."

Cranius inflates his air sacs, but Clea pre-empts him.

"If you don't mind, Cranius. I fear that what I say will impact you most of all."

"But of course. I wait with circular breath."

"Ahri'ahn has appeared."

My armour starts to glow, and Cranius glowers. "Where?"

"Poseidonis. He just appeared in the middle of a meeting of city-state ambassadors for a meeting with High King Orin. The ambassadors were dismissed, so I'm not entirely certain what they were discussing."

She looks over to Richard with eyebrows raised, but he just shakes his head.

"Orin's been away for a few days, but that's not all that unusual. Nothing's been mentioned. Has he been ensorcelled?"

"I doubt it. High Queen Mera is an archmage, and the royal family have any number of enchanted artefacts to defend themselves with. Nothing that would stop Ahri'ahn for any length of time, but overwhelming them wouldn't be a simple matter."

Circe looks disgruntled. "I would offer my services, but I'm… Not yet strong enough to counter Ahri'ahn reliably."

I nod. "Obviously, we need to know what's going on. Orin having a chinwag with a man who attacked and killed US military personnel is going to disrupt a lot of things."

Clea nods. "Since I'm the face of the engagement movement, I am the natural choice to find out what he thinks he's doing."

"Do you want me to be there? Or Sunset? I'm confident that I can tough out anything he can throw at me, and Sunset's a rather good thaumaturgist."

"No, this is an internal Atlantean matter at present. It would be better, politically, if I handled this myself."

I nod again. "Alright. Just remember that the rest of us are a phone call away."

"I will. Thank you. The only other thing of note I have to report is that Aurania is suffering from my trade embargo. People are actually leaving the city to live elsewhere as the economy falters."

I shrug. "Does that..? Affect our operations in Atlantis in some way?"

"There will be a few more magic tutors looking for work. I'll send Circe a list of the more capable ones who might be interested in relocating to the surface." Circe gives her a grateful nod. "But I mostly just wanted an opportunity to be smug out loud. Revenge after so long feels like a tremendous weight I'd forgotten I was carrying has been lifted from me."

It's unproductive, but it's not really a problem if one Atlantean city gets frozen out.

"Alright, but try to keep it under control. I don't want to alienate Orin."

She waves off my concern. On her head be it, then.

"Adom…"

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th December 2012
08:53 GMT -5

"So why exactly have you been following Superman around?"

"That's a fairly deep rabbit hole, Ms. Lane. Are you sure you want to know?"

She looks unimpressed.

"I think I'll cope."

"Alright. I'm trying to learn classical superheroism. I grew up during the dark age of comics, which means that I'm more familiar with grim and gritty superpeople, or deconstructions of classic archetypes. I myself have managed to be merely ruthlessly utilitarian, but I've still killed an awful lot of people."

"And you want Superman to teach you how to be a real hero?"

"Ask the people of Tamaran whether or not I'm a real hero. No, I want Superman to teach me… How to be a nice hero."

"Uh-huh. How's it going?"

I look up to where Kal-El is sitting on the edge of a building in the Thinker pose, eyes glowering directly at the LexCorp building.

"I… Think it's going badly wrong." … "Um, can we have a.. private talk about this?"

"Let's."

One transition later and we appear in my facility in Bir Tawil.

15th December 2012
14:53 GMT +1

And now she's glaring openly.

"What did you say to him?"

"Just… Pointed out the opportunity costs involved with certain forms of… Civic mindedness." Um. "Look this place is pretty secure, but do you want to do this inside..?"

She strides past me through the heavy metal doors into the interior of the facility. I wince and then follow her, signalling the facility's system to engage intermediate security measures.

"How bad-?"

"I have-" She wheels to face me. "-never heard him doubt himself like he did yesterday."

"Sorry."

"Then why the hell did you do it?!"

"Because I wanted to know why he does what he does and it sounds like he just never considered going it a different way. I was.. sort of hoping he had a better reason than that."

"Jesus."

"If you're familiar with the Book of Job, I think that the correct Christian response to-."

"Stop. Talking."

I raise my right hand towards her, palm facing her. Then I put it over my mouth.

"Do you really want to see what happens if S-. If Clark adopts your way of doing things?"

I shake my head.

"Someone doesn't need to be Thomas Aquinas to be a good person!" I nod. "So what do you want?"

I stand there for a mom-.

She rolls her eyes. "You can talk."

"Have you and him..? Talked about your different lifespans?"

She breathes in, and then sharply breathes out.

Spoiler: The original version

"Yes. Once. I know that… Forty years from now I'll be an old woman and he'll look pretty much the same. And that in eighty years from now I'll be dead and he'll still look the same."

"Actually, human women can make a hundred and twenty-."

"A hundred and ten."

"Um." Her face hardens. "That too. Um. But… Clark Kent will look the same. People.. will notice. Unless you plan on moving and cutting ties with everyone in ten years or so. Clark Kent… He's always going to be Clark Kent. I mean, his identity. But 'Clark Kent, well-intentioned but bumbling reporter'? That has a lifespan. So in eighty… A hundred years, does he pick a new name and a new town and set up a new secret identity? Or… Something else?"

"Hooooooo boy."

"See, this is what I do. What I can't stop doing. Think bloody awkward thoughts and ask bloody awkward questions."

"He hasn't told me."

"Think he's.. thought about it?"

"No."

"Think he should?"

"I.. think it can wait. God, I never… I never put it in that sort of perspective."

"I can Danner you, if you like. That way you can experience it for yourself."

"Ask me again when I've got grey hair."

"I can Danner-." She glares, and I think it's supposed to be a fake glare but she isn't quite in the right headspace. "Seriously, though. If it's all about personal connections for him… Small town spirit or… Something, then extending your lifespan could solve some pretty major problems."

I sigh.

"Yes. Once. Before you gave me the Danner Formula. We knew that forty years in the future I'd be an old woman he'd look pretty much the same. And that in eighty years I'd be dead and he'd still look the same."

"Actually, human women can make a hundred and twenty-."

"A hundred and ten."

"Um." Her face hardens. "That too."

"I never asked how long I actually have."

"No one knows. Hugo Danner is a hundred and twenty, and if he dyed his hair he could pass for forty. So he might die at three hundred, or… Maybe not."

"And what about Clark?"

"Karsta Wor-Ul looked old and had arthritis, but she already looked like that when she moved to Earth. I don't know how long kryptonians live under these circumstances."

"Longer or shorter than three hundred years?"

"My best guess is a lot longer. And he probably won't look older. People.. will notice. Unless you plan on moving and cutting ties with everyone in ten years or so. Clark Kent… He's always going to be Clark Kent. I mean, his identity. But 'Clark Kent, well-intentioned but bumbling reporter'? That has a lifespan. So in eighty… A hundred years, does he pick a new name and a new town and set up a new secret identity? Or… Something else?"

"Hooooooo boy."

"See, this is what I do. What I can't stop doing. Think bloody awkward thoughts and ask bloody awkward questions."

"He hasn't told me."

"Think he's.. thought about it?"

"No."

"Think he should?"

"I.. think it can wait. God, I never… I never put it in that sort of perspective. I haven't even thought about it."

"Oh, you don't have the same problem. I'm a well known crazy transhumanist. It's not strange that I'd offer to augment you. You don't have a secret identity, and you'll age enough that it won't be immediately obvious if you don't want to broadcast it. You'll be 'that reporter with super strength' not 'Superman in hiding'."

I sigh.

"Captain Marvel once told me that he wouldn't be able to cope with being Captain Marvel all the time. I don't know if I could cope with not being Orange Lantern all the time. No, I know I can't; I tried taking a month off with my girlfriend and we spent nearly all of it working."

"No one's obliged to be Thomas Aquinas. I was just hoping that he'd worked out a sensible cut off point. And… Why that point is where it is. But the more you know about, the more you see you could do… I'm sorry, this was a bad idea. Please, thank Kal-El for putting up with me. I'll go and bother someone else."

"Yeah. You do that."

15th December 2012
09:02 GMT -5

The LexCorp receptionist passes me the phone handset.

"Orange Lantern. What can I do for you?"

"Mister Luthor, I need to warn you about something."

"And what would that be?"

"I accidentally messed up Superman's head, and… I might have persuaded him to adopt a more pragmatic mindset."

"I see."

"So if you could just minimise the provocation until I've fixed this..?"

…

I hear the phone click as he puts it down.

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th December 2012
11:12 GMT

"Hm."

Commodore Amalak leans against the railing as he looks down upon one of the battle damaged regions of Chughraghahh.

"I'd have thought that you would be more efficient."

"It was about sending a message. Quickly."

He turns, right arm leaning on the rail while he gestures with his left.

"You're a fascinating man, Illustres. The way you intervened in the peace talks and actually made them work, the way you took Felicia and handed her over to that Crown Imperium charity rather than keeping her as a concubine, I rather formed a particular vision of you in my mind. Then you destroyed the Citadel Complex with such ferocity and ruthlessness, and here…"

He glances back over his shoulder.

"Here I can only describe your behaviour as callous. Not a terrible personality trait for a soldier -and I know exactly how repugnant the Spider Guild is- but I find I struggle to reconcile what I see here with what I saw then."

"It was a utility calculation. The Spider Guild is far stronger here than they were in Vega, and the local civilisations aren't…"

"Pirates with delusions of civilisation? Don't worry, I've heard worse."

"Right, they're just… People, managing their own affairs and occasionally having their citizens abducted and eaten. One is clearly more moral than the other. So if my actions aid Karax and hurt Chughraghahh, that's fine. Nothing of value was lost. But in Vega, while that's true of the Psions and arguably the Citadel Complex, it's less obvious that it was true about the rest of you. The Queen doesn't want to eat people and you're just an 'aggressive capitalist'. I've got no reason to violently advantage one in favour of the other if I want to improve the region."

"But the Psions and the Citadelians… Don't meet your requirements."

"Didn't meet my requirements."

"'Want the ends, want the means'. Still, for most people, going from throwing space stations at a planet to defending it with such fervour would require a major change in outlook."

"I wasn't particularly fervorous, to be honest." I sigh. "I'm.. rethinking my approach a little. Otherwise I might well have not bothered defending them. But the fact is there isn't anything worth salvaging here; utility would be maximised by exterminating them. Between my doubt and the fact that the local interdiction system messes up subspace storage, I wasn't anything like as effective as I'm used to being."

It would have been difficult to get a solid tether attached to the main mass of the railgun rounds through their plasma sheath, but it would have been slightly more efficient than what I was doing. The Guild don't use subspace but do occasionally find themselves at odds with species who do, so they pre-empted my efforts.

"But to return to the matter of Vega, you're satisfied with the Queen's behaviour?"

"She has been scrupulous in upholding her end of the agreement. What friction there has been comes from disagreements between the other parties. Though I must admit… Even damaged like this, I'm a little concerned about the Queen taking on this much additional industrial capacity."

"I assume that it's not practical for you to expand this far from Vega."

"You assume correctly. Unless you're going to give me Vran back, in which case things get a good deal easier."

The Dominion uses fixed portals to transport their fleets long distance. Putting one here and one in Vega would be a functional solution, but I'd have to either persuade the Dominion to let me rent one from them or create them myself and be prepared for their open hostility when they found out. They already don't like me for breaking Vril out in the first place.

But a large scale zeta radiation based system…

"I could make travelling back and forth a good deal easier. N.E.M.O. has the technology for interstellar gateways."

"That's Dominion technology."

I shake my head. "Similar concept, different execution. I can't promise you that they won't pick a fight over it, but it's not something they routinely do."

"Other places use your version?"

"My homeworld has been using them for years, and I know of one other planet that has a similar arrangement."

"Is there some other catch?"

"I don't intend to give it to you. The Queen's going to be paying you in goods and services to be the guarantor of the new treaty, but there will be a charge for the gateway."

"Per use, or..?"

"I think I'll lease it to you. For the duration of the contract. The more money you can make with it, the bigger your margin."

"A reasonable prospect. How cheap are they to run?"

"We use them for global planet-side transportation on my home world. Unless they're in continuous use, they're pretty darn cheap."

"So. I agree to protect the neighbouring polities against the Spider Guild, and the Spider Guild against the neighbouring polities. With a gate thrown in to make me appreciate the opportunities for diversification. And with the Guild making payment in kind, I can build up a huge tonnage in merchantmen while accessing a new pool of recruits."

I nod.

"Then I'd be a fool to reject it out of hand. Let me know when you've hammered out the specifics."

"Will do. Do you want a lift back to your ship?"

"No, I think I'll continue the tour, start speaking to the locals. Without you around. I imagine that they're finding you a little overwhelming at present."

"I'll see you later, then."

I step out and

reappear next to-.

"Not-Daddy!"

The Queen, as Princess perks up, and-.

"Princess, you appear to be furry."

"M-Hm. Mummy says that Spiders are too different from humanoid physiological norms to be erotically appealing, so the best I can do is look cute and inoffensive. And that means full body fur!"

She spreads out her upper arms.

"Hugs!"

I open my arms and she jumps, grabbing onto my torso and rubbing herself against me like a living spider-teddy. Her chitin is well covered and I can honestly see her being a far better diplomatic envoy than any the Guild has used to date.

I look up at her indulgent mother.

"Perhaps we could go over the terms I've been discussing with Amalak?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

18th December 2012
15:27 GMT -5

"Okay." I watch as Kal-El metaphorically girds his loins. "Perhaps we should try and do this a little differently."

"It's okay, I can hide the body, just tell me where it is."

"There isn't a body."

"Even if you incinerated it completely, there might well be biological residue left. I know your eyesight is good, but I have a power ring, and your heat vision tends to leave a very distinctive-."

"Just-." He holds out his right palm. "Just stop. I haven't killed anyone. Lois and I had a… Uncomfortable but probably overdue conversation about… Aging."

"Ah. How did it go?"

"I think I can keep 'Clark Kent, bumbling reporter' going until my early sixties. I'll just have to find a grey hair dye that works on kryptonians. After that I guess I'll just have to be open about things, though I don't think I'll ever be 'Superman' full time."

"It's your life. Do you think you'll keep writing? I ask because at that point your articles will have a very different 'brain feel' to them."

"It's thirty years away. A lot of things could be different. And I could write under a pseudonym easily enough."

"You can't do interviews under…" I smile, shaking my head. "Would you like a personal hologram projector?"

"Thank you for the offer, but that's a technology Krypton had." He pauses for a moment. "I've had a few thoughts about your problem, and I've an idea about how we could bridge the gap."

"Okay?"

"You've seen how I handle situations. I've heard how you handle things, but I've never really seen it for myself. Contentious situations, where you have to use your judgement. Not just things like with Kara."

"I can see the superficial logic, but I'm really not sure that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I'm.. a little concerned that I'm just going to make my thought process seem more appealing. I saw how what I said affected you."

"No, don't worry. Ma raised me better than that." I.. look away, awkwardly. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your mother."

"My parents thought they were raising a bright but not particularly social child, not someone with your powers. The precise niceties of moral philosophy weren't really discussed. I really don't have the slightest idea how she'd feel about this."

"No?"

I take a moment to strain my memories.

"When I was very small, she asked me to promise never to vote for the Conservative Party, because she held them responsible for the fact that I spent half my time at school in Portakabin classrooms. She also told me that she'd disown me if I ever joined the army. So, I guess I'm disowned, though she might just have been talking about the wars my Britain was involved in at the time rather than wars in general."

"And your pa?"

I strain my memories harder.

"I don't remember it coming up. At all."

"Huh. Did you get along okay with your parents?"

"As far as I know. I don't have a second set of parents to compare them to. We didn't really have any hobbies in common… Ah. But on.. a slightly less personal level, what exactly did you want to watch me doing?"

He shrugs. "Anything."

I smile awkwardly. "It's the old.. thing, where someone asks you to say something and your mind goes completely blank."

"You can just take the lead for a patrol around Metropolis if you like."

"No, I've got something."

I float a little way up into the air, then generate an oversized zeta tube.

"Keeping an eye on Chughraghahh and it's satellite worlds is an ongoing task. The new treaty arrangements won't be fully bedded in for a little while, so I'm on big stick duty."

"Isn't that on the other side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, but I built them a big zeta tube. We can get there in a few seconds. Coming back will be a little more difficult, but I can come back first and create a receiver station." Hm. "Or we can do something a little closer?"

"If you're busy I can always hitch a lift."

He reaches down to his belt and activates his environmental shield.

"Ready?"

He nods as I check the orientation of the zeta tube. And then check that the far end is clear…

Confirmed.

"After you."

"They don't eat kryptonians, do they?"

"I imagine they would if they thought they could. So all the ships apart from Amalak's-."

Amalak who has a massive grudge against kryptonians.

"Would you mind.. terribly, changing your shirt? I.. just remembered that the man leading the picket fleet had his homeworld destroyed by General Zod, and he's got a bit of a grudge about it."

Kal-El's face falls slightly.

"How much of a grudge?"

"He'd try and kill you if he confirmed that you were kryptonian. Or Daxamite. But without the House of El crest we can just pretend you're a metahuman. If he even asks."

"Does he know that Zod was a criminal who was banished to the Phantom Zone?"

"Do you intend to get him out, kill him, then present Amalak with his severed head as reparation?"

"Is that something you would do?"

"No. Without knowing how much solar power he'd absorbed before being sent to the Phantom Zone, letting him out would be too much of a risk."

"He was sent to the Phantom Zone from Krypton. I doubt that he'd have any solar power."

"Oh. In that case, yes. Life imprisonment is fine for what would otherwise be capital crimes when you're not completely certain, because you could be wrong and exculpatory evidence might turn up. In Zod's case there's no doubt. He certainly deserves it, and it might finally bring Amalak and the few other surviving members of his species some measure of peace. And possibly make him stop trying to kill other kryptonians. Using the Phantom Zone in the way Krypton used to was simply cowardly."

"I'll take that under advisement." He smiles. "Do you have a replacement shirt, or do you want me to go bare-chested?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

18th December 2012
20:35 GMT

I can tell from the way Kal-El's eyes are focusing that he's taking in the damage on the planet below.

"I never asked how you felt about Ms. Lane getting augmented."

He blinks, clearly experiencing a violent change in mental gearing.

"Ah. I like that she's safer and will live longer. The.. Danner Formula has a history of reliability, and I know if there was a problem you'd work at it until it was fixed."

"Yes." I sigh. "There might be a problem."

He stops in the air, giving me his full attention.

"The Accala… They all have the Danner Formula. There's actually a ceremony when an expectant mother gets the injection to augment her foetus. Because… Just like how it's not easy to nurse a super strong baby with normal breasts… They're not sure how safe it is to give birth to a normal child with super strong vaginal muscles. I mean, I don't think humans and kryptonians can breed naturally anyway-."

He relaxes a little. "But Lois would need a C-section."

"That would be a good idea. Unless your child could absorb solar power in-utero, which seems unlikely. And would be very bad."

"But Lois would be okay, wouldn't she? Her womb's tougher, too."

"I think -and this is an impression I have based on what I know about Danner babies, not something I've got actual research on- that she'd be fine with the foetus moving or kicking, I'm… Just not sure what happens with heat vision."

"Would they have heat vision?"

"I have no idea. Humans can breed with things we biologically shouldn't be able to because the Earth's thaumosphere is firmly of the opinion that sex makes babies, but I don't know what that does for the baby's biology."

"I don't have a lot of luck when it comes to magic."

"I suspect that's mostly because you weren't born here. Or it could be that kryptonians aren't evolved to use magic in the way that humans are." I shrug. "The only way to find out in advance would be to try and teach Mitchell magic, and he hasn't shown any interest."

"What would happen if they did have heat vision?"

"Whether it would kill Ms. Lane or not would depend on the angle and energy output. All but the weakest shots would boil the amniotic fluid and cause a miscarriage or.. at best a premature delivery. And the child might be killed due to their brain not being able to handle the power discharge."

"Dear Lord."

"I'd suggest either growing a child in a tank, or spending the whole pregnancy off Earth and away from yellow suns. Second suggestion would be to give Ms. Lane an environmental shield set to filter out the wavelengths which empower kryptonians."

He nods, clearly relieved. "That sounds like the smart option."

"And without wanting to be crude, if you're trying for children then she needs to wear it from the start and at all times."

He breathes appreciably easier. "And… How does it work with you?"

"If you're relying on a magic mechanism, in-vitro fertilisation-."

"No. I mean, if you and Jade try and have children. I know you said that you didn't have a soul when you came here, and it sounds like magic plays a big part in the process."

"If Jennifer-Lynn Hayden and Todd Rice are anything to go by, any child I have has a fifty percent chance of coming out orange and with an innate connection to the orange light. There's no record of Ms. Canton having a difficult labour, and… Miss Hayden's abilities didn't come in until adulthood. If Jade and I had children and they did have a strong connection to the orange light, then I would be able to moderate it and communicate with them by it. More or less."

"Don't other Lanterns have children?"

"Yes, but none of the human Lanterns have, and most of the Lanterns who have children aren't as far into their light as I am. Enlightened Green Lanterns usually aren't interested in anything not associated with the Corps."

"Guy doesn't seem to have that problem."

"Guy is a special case. And he met Ms. Olafsdotter before it happened, which probably helped. Ah!"

I lead the way down towards ground level, where humanoids of various species are working at clearing rubble.

"These people were The Spider Guild's trading partners. Pirates and slavers of the blackest stripe. Now-."

His face stills.

"Now they're slaves."

"Now they're prisoners with jobs, which I'll remind you is entirely legal in the United States of America. And this was an alternative to the death sentence they were going to get from every civilisation in the region. At best, the Green Lantern Corps might have marooned them somewhere to spend the rest of their lives as hunter-gatherers with no doctors."

"What do they do when this job's finished?"

"Depends. None of the Guild's neighbours want them to go free. Once the initial clear up is complete, those with specialist skills can get work using them, and it's not as if the Spiders care about their people-trafficking history."

"And those without?"

"They worked on board spaceships. They've all got at least basic astro-engineering skills, as well as combat experience. Amalak will probably offer them jobs eventually, if they stick with it, and then they're out of the region and gainfully employed."

His eyes rest on a squad of armed overseers in the uniform of Amalak's organisation.

"How are they treated?"

"Pretty well for people-gastronomes?"

Clearly not what he meant. Reminds me of a meaningful quote at the start of an episode of Andromeda. Something about the best way to judge the morality of a society being to look at how it treats its weakest: the elderly, children and prisoners. Which is nonsense. The elderly are your parents, people who've done their time maintaining your civilisation. Children are your civilisation's future. Prisoners -assuming that they're guilty of things it's reasonable to call crimes- are a drain on your society, unwilling or unable to work within it and draining its resources by existing. I prefer to fix that by rehabilitation so that they can start contributing, but plenty of civilisations don't have the resources to invest in the chance of that sort of thing working.

"I have concerns that the system in which they have no rights could be open to abuse."

"Amalak's people are professionals, and a good chunk of them are ex-slaves themselves. There are very clear rules for prisoner-guard interactions and constant remote monitoring. And while the prisoners aren't paid, they are rewarded with better conditions if they perform well, so they're motivated to keep at it."

"And if they don't?"

"Then there's a brief hearing, and then the suspended sentence of death is carried out. Want to talk to some of them?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

18th December 2012
22:44 GMT

"Strand Elder, please don't do this."

The face on the main screen moves its mandibles in an insulting configuration.

I wait patiently for him to stop.

"Rarkhakahh is the most heavily fortified world in this region! We are armoured, shielded and our weapon systems are second to none! We are ready to fight anyone, including Lanterns!" He leans closer to his camera. "And we have meat animals close at hand. Do your worst."

The camera pulls back, and-.

And he pulls a clearly terrified Karaxian child into view and

I step out, already

prepared to fire, my energy pulse striking the Strand Elder in the back of his head as my construct shield envelops the nearby-. Prisoners. The heavy combat robots lock on and open fire before the Strand Elder's body hits the ground, plasma pulses howling through the air!

I form railguns as the other Spiders in the room blacken and burn from the heat the plasma weapons are giving off. Scan shows basic shields and heavy armour, counter with crumbler rounds, fabricate crumbler rounds because the interdiction system is still active, fire!

Shields flicker and die, chunks of armour vanish as the robots stagger back, trying to right themselves and maintain fire even while I tear them apart. A moment later I feel a brief disorientation as some sort of mind affect device activates, but it's nothing like enough to make my constructs drop.

And then the robots are dead. A cold gun construct turns the air around us back to a more normal temperature, then I check on the Spiders. One heavily cooked survivor. He'll die in a few minutes if I take no action.

I glance back, and the communications system is still in one piece as it was contained inside my shield bubble.

"One survivor, Superman. I could heal him. Thoughts?"

"Is the kid okay?"

I look down to where the child is curled up on the floor hugging his legs to his chest.

"Horribly traumatised and drugged, but I think he'll eventually make a full recovery."

"How would you-?"

I drop my shield, energy pulse the surviving Spider in the head and connect directly to the command centre's computers. Looks like the consoles are shielded against construct intrusion, but with much of the equipment in the rest of the room melted I can get into the system that way. Ah, good design, communications but not control.

"I'd kill them all. If you're quick, I think you're fast enough to get to the surface before they kill all the hostages. Everyone else gogogo!"

This room has three exits. One goes to an emergency bunker, another to the emergency escape craft and the third back into the subterranean command facility. A transmutation ray seals the second, while a command to the computer system opens the first.

The boy who nearly got eaten is still out of it but the others look a little more coherent.

"Everyone! Into the bunker, please! I need you to be safe while I free the others!"

I shove the robot wrecks out of the way while the more focused prisoners herd the rest through the door and down the ladder.

"Don't open the door, I'll teleport in when it's clear."

A couple of bent left fist affirmative gestures from the Karaxians, then they're the other side of the outer door and I slam it shut.

Right.

Ring, open communications with Superman.

Compliance.

And crumbler-ram.

The door to the rest of the facility vanishes, as do the robots lining up on the far side. No actual Spider Guilders; that isn't how they fight.

Ring, broadcast.

Compliance.

"I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps, broadcasting from your command centre to all Spider Guilders on Rarkhakahh. You are in defiance of the surrender agreement struck with your ruling council. Stand down at once. There will be no further warnings."

I feel a vague sense of pressure as Lantern Toren shields the allied fleet as it moves into bombardment position, and I see the walls shake around me as Kal-El hits the ground at full speed. Right, nearest concentration of non-Guilders is that way.

I could make a crumbler-borer construct and dig through the rock, but that would be entirely too slow. I can already see lights going out, though I'm not sure who they belong to. These Spiders don't appear to have any way to disrupt my exotic abilities, so

I step out,

blade constructs already cutting into the assembled robots, and-.

I gulp as I see a Spider crush a slave's head in its mandibles, just as its leader had planned to do. The energy pulse follows a half-second later.

"EVERYONE-"

Railguns form and robots begin to disintegrate.

"-ON THE GROUND!"

A shield over the surviving prisoners next, turning into a bunker construct a moment later. The Spider technicians are fleeing for the exit, so I send a brief volley their way as well.

And my targets are all gone.

None of the prisoners look like they're wounded. A few are missing body parts, but the flesh beneath has been sealed. Old wounds, to make them more afraid when the time comes to eat the rest. The local civilisations have the technology to regrow the flesh or replace it with cybernetics. There's nothing else I need to attend to immediately.

"Stay here, rescue is on the way."

Seal the doors, sight the next prisoner compartment

and

fire at-.

Too late. Mark these Spiders for later execution

and move to the

next-.

"We surrender! We surrender!"

Robots passive, Spiders on the floor.

Fine.

Crumbler rams hit the robots through their central processors while I fabricate restraints, binding their arms and legs.

And if the prisoners decide not to respect their surrender, it's hardly ideal, but I'll live with it.

Next.

 

[Mr Zoat]

18th December 2012
22:59 GMT

Superman looks a little green. Looks like he didn't get there in time for everyone, either.

"Do you want to head home?"

"No. This wasn't the first time I've seen this."

"The Sheeda?"

"That was the first time I saw industrial murder supported by an entire civilisation. But the first time I saw a lot of dead people in one place was after an apartment fire in Lahore. I'd been Superman for about two years at the time. I saw the news on television, flew there as fast as I could, and..."

I nod. "I remember reading about that. Ah. Do you want to talk about why I did what I did here, or do you want to leave it?"

He looks down at the ground, eyes narrowing as he combines x-ray and telescopic vision to take in as much as possible.

"Does this sort of thing happen a lot out here?"

"If you mean 'somewhere in the universe', then, probably. If you mean 'do I have to deal with it regularly', no. There was… Something not too dissimilar when we were fighting the Reach at the very edge of their territory, but Vega wasn't this bad."

"That part of the Guild didn't eat people?"

"That part of the Guild had run out of people to eat and were realistic about their circumstances." I shrug as we watch the Spider Guild ships under the Queen's authority come in to land. "And the Queen hadn't really had any choice in her diet prior to their Elder's deaths."

"Okay. Could you have stunned the Elder?" I glance-. "I'm not saying that you should have, I'm asking if you could."

"Almost certainly. It would have taken me an extra fraction of a second which might have given the robots time to shoot a hostage or two, but I'm aware that there's a difference between killing someone and failing to save them. But if I had… What happens then?"

"You tell me."

"Feigning surrender is a war crime on Earth, though I can't immediately call to mind any trials taking place."

"I don't think he surrendered."

"Then it's treason during wartime, and that will get you executed in America too. The other Elders had surrendered, and that's usually definitive. Even if I'd taken him alive, he'd have been executed… Well, now, and frankly keeping him under control would have been a distraction."

"And the wounded spider?"

"He knew what the Elders had decided. He backed the renegade faction. I don't think that the Queen will demand the death of everyone here, but any senior people who are still alive are probably…"

Ring, summary of Spider Guild punishments?

"Apparently, the Spider Guild version of 'decimation' is 'halving'."

"Will she do that?"

"If she wants to keep control, she'll… Have to at least do something along those lines. And if she.. doesn't, then she's in violation of her treaty obligations with her new neighbours and they might decide to finish this place off for her."

"How many worlds does the Spider Guild control?"

"I don't know. I know it's at least two hundred and-" He twitches. "-eighty. The actual… Core of their space along with what is probably their homeworld is a long way from here, but they're willing to travel very long distances."

"What do they eat there?"

"Oh, they have a licensing system for importers. My personal suspicion is that they maintain a breeding population, but that's more because I've tried to think how I'd handle it if I were them than any actual intelligence."

I give a black-humoured laugh as the ship lands and the Queen exits the landing ramp.

"Of course, you have to remember that they're not species-prejudiced. They'll eat each other, too. One of their insults is 'you're so stupid that even your mate wouldn't eat you'."

"Yes, I-."

The Queen picks up the most senior surviving member of the garrison and shoves his head into her mouth, holding his convulsing body in her hands as she chews at a leisurely pace.

"I see. And you're okay with this."

"If I was okay with it, I wouldn't have intervened. I'm not okay with piracy and cannibalism. That meant that the Guild had to go. I'd prefer to avoid extermination where reform is possible, which means defeating them and handing them over to the Queen because she's the only person they'll accept."

"Why not just isolate them?"

"Because space is really big. And while individual septs don't mind other septs getting knocked back every so often, they will send a relief force if aliens look like they're going to knock one out. And because without a plan they probably would end up eating each other because they're dependent on imports. And because all the local stellar nations want them destroyed. And because the Orange Lantern Corps is too busy with the Reach to intervene in force, and the Reach are worse."

"Worse than a civilisation of cannibals?"

"The Spider Guild rarely exterminates intelligent species. The Reach does as a matter of course. We actually.. have interview recordings of species on the verge of extinction, and they're so brainwashed that they're happy about it. And…"

I make a helpless gesture with both arms as the Queen keeps eating.

"This is me trying to be nice."

"What would you have done before the JSI?"

"Not sure. Killed them all and then destroyed the fleets of the nearest septs so they didn't have reinforcements to send, maybe. How about you?"

Respect to the man, he hesitates and thinks about it.

"If I hadn't seen this, I think I'd have crippled their ships and space stations and hoped they'd have the sense to quit."

"And the relief force?"

"I'd have tried to convince the locals to prepare to fight them, and try warning them off myself."

"Kal-El, this isn't just a group of raiders, this would be an actual military force. You aren't immune to levels of energy their main weapons can discharge. Spider Guild ships are heavily automated, so they aren't slowed by organic response times. I strongly recommend not trying to fight entire warfleets."

"Sometimes, you don't have a choice."

"Sometimes, you have a choice and don't see it."

I shake my head.

"I killed a wounded man I could have healed and killed people I could have contained. And for the life of me I can't see a better solution."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2012
09:01 GMT

Mr. Rodriguez opens the door to his apartment, and then freezes up as he sees me.

"Ah…"

"Good morning. I see you know who I am."

"Yeah. I ain't never going to forget that whole cake thing, man. Ah, or-" He raises his hands defensively. "-when you fought the Sheeda. I get you ain't just the cake man."

"I appreciate that. This is Mister Kent of the Metropolis Daily Planet."

"Oh yeah, Superman's favourite paper, right?"

Kal-El shifts awkwardly, his posture slovenly and uncertain.

"Ah. I guess. He's got good taste."

He flashes a smile for a moment, then makes a show of giving up on it when Mr. Rodriguez doesn't reciprocate immediately.

"Right. So, I guess this is about Medina."

"Indeed it is. I'm sure that your lawyer has explained the difficulties in engaging with anyone on Themyscira legally, particularly when Medina doesn't want to engage with the process at all. I hadn't originally intended to get involved, but… I think I might be able to help things along a little in an informal manner."

A slightly guarded look appears on his face.

"Do I need my lawyer for this?"

"'Need'? No. I don't have any formal legal authority. However, a lot of Themysciran law works on the basis of who is the most persuasive in the forum and I've got an advantageous reputation. I'll quite understand if you want to call your lawyer and set up a group meeting, but that sort of thing doesn't play well to the Amazon crowd."

He looks me in the eyes for a few moments and then shrugs. "What's your stake in this, anyway?"

"I want Themyscira to have more contact with the rest of the world. I rather assumed that they would be more interested in American women than men, but I should probably have seen something like this happening."

"Medina didn't seem too gay to me."

"She's not American." He looks blank. "Different societies conceptualise behaviours differently. In Ancient Themyscira, it was quite normal for women who prefer women to have sex with men when they wanted to get pregnant, because.. they.. didn't have IVF. If they didn't have sex with a man, then they wouldn't have children. Medina's current all-female marriage group has been together for over two thousand years."

"Then what's she doing sleeping around!?"

"Finding someone to sire a child. Three thousand years ago one of her wives would have picked someone, usually an immediate relative, but they don't know any men who are still alive."

"So she can sleep with men, and the other women are fine with it?"

"She can have sex with men while she's trying to get pregnant. If she was doing it recreationally, that might be a problem."

"So if she enjoys-?"

"No. She can enjoy it incidentally, though… Ah… Unless you have a metahuman empathic ability you haven't told anyone about, I wouldn't assume-."

"Oh, no man, she wasn't faking."

My right hand finds its way to my forehead.

"And I'm happy to take your word for that. But that doesn't have much social significance on Themyscira."

"Ah, shit." He looks away, releasing some of the tension he just built up. "Ah, yeah, ah… You wanna come in?"

"Thank you."

He steps back from the door, and I lead the way in. Pretty tidy for a bachelor apartment. Smells… Yes, something was painted recently. The colours are light pastels and I notice that there's a slightly out of place crucifix attached to one wall.

Mr. Rodriguez notices me looking at it.

"My momma gave me that as a housewarming present. She-. She really ain't happy about this whole thing."

"I admit, I'd rather been assuming that she just went to a club and picked someone up."

"Nah, that's…" He points to a couple of chairs next to the dining table. "Ah, take a seat. You want coffee?"

"Not for me, thank you."

"Yes please. Ah, black. If you've… Got it."

Laying it on a little thick there, Kal-El.

"Ah… Yeah. Sure, man."

Mr. Rodriguez walks into his kitchenette and… Puts a capsule in a coffee machine before taking a couple of mugs out of a wall-mounted cupboard.

"So how did you and Medina meet, anyway?"

"At the coffee shop where I work. She came in during the graveyard shift and… We got talking. She sure didn't mention being married at any point."

"You… You were dating?"

He presses the button to generate a mug of coffee, then puts in a new capsule.

"I thought we were." He shakes his head. "Next time, I'm waiting 'til we're married."

"That's probably for the best. Were you.. planning on having a child-."

"No, I just… I figured she was on the pill when she said it was 'okay'. I mean, I thought we-. I really liked her, y'know? I wouldn't a'minded having a kid with her. And then… A few weeks later and she's out the door and that's when I find out where she's from."

He sighs as he presses the button for another coffee.

"I didn't even-. I just wanted to know where she ran off to, y'know? And… Why. And you're telling me that the whole thing was so she could get pregnant?"

"I take it that she never discussed it in those terms."

He picks up the mugs and walks over to us at the table, putting one mug down in front of Kal-El on a coaster before sitting down opposite us and taking a sip.

"No, she didn't discuss it in those terms. I mean I'm-. I'm going back over every conversation we had in my head and wondering if I heard one thing and she meant something completely different. I dunno. I just thought we had a good thing going on."

"Do you have a good relationship with your own father?"

"My dad? Yeah, sure. Him and Mom have been together for thirty years. I'm the youngest of three." He shakes his head. "Dad and Mom are not happy with me right now. Christmas is gunna be real awkward."

"Would you be prepared to talk about your relationship in front of a group of strangers?"

"Ah. I don't… Why?"

"Because while I could do it, I suspect that you telling the forum how you feel would be a good deal more effective."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2012
16:52 GMT +3

"How's the Flash doing?"

"He wasn't too happy about Blitzen showing up." We slow as we approach our destination in the northern wilds of Themyscira. "But since she's spending most of her time with the Alliance, it's not too much of a problem."

"Ah, the stepsister he never wanted."

"I talked a lot to Overman, so I'm not just going to dismiss her because she's a Nazi. But most people aren't that open-minded, and Blitzen… She's not as apologetic as he is."

"He actually fought in their World War Two. She wasn't created until the bodies were paved over. But, no. I meant about the Sheeda."

"He's talking to someone about that. He's not the only one." His eyes flick to me. "You could talk to him yourself."

"I don't think he needs to hear more about my outlook."

"I'm going to guess that you would have tried talking Lord Malvolio into killing her for you."

"Or kicking her out at least. Honestly, I can't see how someone with her temperament could survive around him for any length of time without doing something to insult him badly enough that he'd lose his temper. And the rest of the Sheeda survivors weren't worth it. And… I'd guess that you'd want to send her to the Phantom Zone."

"I thought that was the cowardly answer? Should I be insulted?"

"I can't think of a classically heroic way to resolve the situation. If she was tried in a court, she would be executed. Anything else would present too great a risk of her getting free. The Phantom Zone would probably contain her without requiring her death."

"Are you sure that death would contain her?"

"Reasonably sure. People usually die when they are dead. She doesn't have a way to come back without the Cauldron of Rebirth, and that would require someone to dump her body in it. And… For there to be a body to dump in it."

…

"Did someone secure the Cauldron?"

"I'd have to check with General Lane. I don't remember a Sheeda… 'Cauldron' being mentioned specifically. What is it?"

"A sort of super Lazarus Pit in the form of a big cauldron. And if Lord Malvolio has it, that might explain why he's not still angry about Flash killing her."

That gets a surprised blink. "You think he's resurrected her?"

"I think it's a possibility. I don't think that asking him about it would help the situation."

"No, but it's going to make Batman even more paranoid about people using Sheeda technology."

I nod. "But… Flash is… Coping? I know how out of character that was for him."

"I don't think he's back to normal yet, but he's getting there."

I nod as we land outside of an ancient farmstead. No one I asked could remember exactly when Medina and Family set up here. Amazons don't have perfect memories, after all. 'Before the current city was built' was the best I could get out of anyone. But looking around at the surrounding landscape I'm reminded of an incident involving… A British University, I forget the name. They needed a new oak beam for the roof, but it would have to be far longer than was commercially available. One stroll into the grounds later and they found the tree that their forebears planted a hundred years ago for that express purpose.

The whole 'A civilization flourishes when people plant trees under whose shade they will never sit' doesn't really apply when everyone is ageless and no one is having children, but the trees are laid out in generational rows, ready for use when the house and barn next needs it.

Aside from that piece of sagacity, the farm looks… Oh dear. Like a pre-Exodus farm. They haven't done the sort of infrastructure building that most Amazons have, with sewers, stone paths and walls and slate roofs. They've deliberately recreated something older and simpler.

Rats.

"Hello?!"

I stroll down what looks like the path into the farmyard. I can hear pigs grunting and geese honking, and a-.

Shclunk.

The sound of dinner being decapitated. I'm not sure whether Hippolyta is doing Christmas this year. I don't imagine that the last one really enthused anyone. But a traditionalist Themysciran definitely wouldn't.

"Hello?"

Heavy footsteps in heavy boots, then one of the residents comes into view. Black hair, olive skin, muscled from constant farm work rather than a gymnasium. Not Medina herself, but probably one of her wives.

"No, I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "We agreed one at a time, and it's Medina's turn. Try the City."

"That's not why I'm here."

She looks us both over and frowns. And suddenly I feel self-conscious about how I dress on professional occasions.

"Are you friends of the Princess?"

"Yes. More to the point, I'm the one who brought the portal to Themyscira."

"Oh, ah, Paa… Pavlos?" I nod. "And…" She squints. "Um. Marvelman?"

"Close. It's Superman."

I suppose an isolated corner of Themyscira is the one place on Earth that's more likely to have heard of me than Superman.

"And I am Karyne. If you are not here to sire a child, are you here to trade for produce?"

"Are you aware of how much of a fuss Medina has created?"

"I… Suppose it's some. But most of us cannot shape clay into a child and have it come to life."

Y-es, Hippolyta did say that was the closest she came to being deposed, didn't she?

"This might be something I should talk about with your whole family. In short, America has very different customs relating to parental responsibility to Themyscira, and the child's biological father wants to discharge his responsibilities." She nods. Okay, not getting the misandrist diatribe I was half-braced for. That's a good sign. "And because there's no actual treaty between America and Themyscira, it's a matter for the forum, and… Medina's actions are rubbing the majority up the wrong way."

Karyne frowns. "Why? The women of the City could do the same if they wished."

"The American government usually restricts people coming into their country from the outside. Themyscira has been given… Effectively, given a bypass on those rules because they trust you and because there aren't that many of you. If Amazons start flagrantly ignoring local custom, that could change. The man who sired Medina's child had a very different idea of what their relationship was to what she intended."

Karyne's frown deepens. "He thought that she would stay with him?"

"He didn't know she was from Themyscira."

Karyne puts her hands on her hips.

"That is not what she told us."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2012
17:03 GMT +3

"…understand why you think that, but that's not what happened."

Karyne nods, though I can't help but think that she looks a little disappointed.

"So you did not sire every newborn in the city?"

"No. Um. And it would be unwise for me to sire more than a couple in any case. They would all be half-brothers and half-sisters, so the risk of-."

Okay, they're farmers, so I'm going to assume that they know that inbreeding is bad, even if they don't know what genes are, but a technical explanation using words that Themysciran Greek doesn't have isn't going to help.

"Their own children would risk being malformed." She nods. "I was not aware that was a problem for demigods."

"I wouldn't want to risk it just in case."

"Then, how did the children come to be? You implied that they did not cross through the gateway during the Festival."

"I haven't told the rest of the world about the Festival, and I really don't think it would be a good idea."

She frowns. "Why?"

"Because we're talking about men who aren't familiar with Themysciran culture, and I'd rather avoid a great brawl."

She perks up slightly. "We could have them fight one another for the prize of impregnating us?"

"That-. Not on short notice, though if you really want to hold a… A studding tournament, I… Could organise that. If you really wanted."

"I will be third, so it will not be for a few years yet. But I thank you for the offer and will consider it." She looks away for a moment, smiling slightly guiltily. "So where did the children come from?"

"To put it simply, I can take a small part of the body of one woman, turn it into the part of a man which quickens a woman's womb, and ensure that she becomes pregnant with it."

Her eyes widen and her right hand clamps over her mouth.

Um.

"If you want a more technical explan-"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"-ation-?"

She doubles over, arms clasping her chest as she tries to stop laughing long enough to breathe.

Um.

The front door opens and another woman walks in. Her skin is a little paler and her hair is brown rather than black.

"Chloe! Chloe!" Karyne unhunches and dashes over to her wife. "The city-women, they can make finger-penises!"

Chloe look puzzled as Karyne embraces her for stability as she starts laughing again, then she looks over Karyne's shoulder at me, squinting and shaking her head in mystification.

I shake my head back. "That's not what I said. Just that I had a way for one woman to make another pregnant without needing a man." … "Other than me, to enable it. Though a woman from-. Of my cult could do the same."

She frowns, and appears to be a little disturbed. "Why?"

"Some of those women have been together for millennia, and they preferred having a child related by blood to both of them to being intimate with a man. An attitude which I understand much better than what Medina did."

"Ah." Karyne straightens up, humour fleeing. "Yes."

"What.. did Medina do?"

Karyne shakes her head. "We're waiting until everyone is here. They… Want us… Her, to explain herself in the forum."

"That is no surprise. When Queen-."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!"

They both glance around, but the screaming sounds more excited than anything else. Through the wall I see Kal-El carry another woman into the courtyard.

"Ma'am?"

"Aaaah!"

"Ma'am, you can let go-."

Chloe rolls her eyes and walks back outside.

"Tryphena, let him go."

"He can fly! Like the Princess! Can I pick him?"

"Excuse me?"

"No. Medina has upset people and the forum wants to talk to us."

Kal-El comes in first, with Tryphena following him with a decidedly predatory look in her eyes. Chloe looks awkwardly at the back of Kal-El's head for a moment, then turns back to the main gates as Medina and Rina approach from the animal pens. Medina isn't showing in the conventional sense yet, but a quick scan shows that the foetus is in good health. As they enter the room, Rina doesn't look particularly happy about us being here. Medina on the other hand-

"Delivery was an option?"

-doesn't seem troubled at all.

Which is hopeful, in a way. If backward-looking women in the backwoods of Themyscira don't object to having men around, then I don't think I need to worry about the minority who do having a support base somewhere.

"Not at this stage. Medina-."

"Felix isn't happy. The Queen already sent word about that."

Kal-El nods. "Apparently, you didn't mention that you were from Themyscira. Not until you were leaving."

Chloe looks around in surprise. "Medi?"

"I didn't hide it."

"Medi!"

"I didn't! I think I-." She frowns, trying to remember. "I said I was Greek, from an island, and that I was a Hellenist. I remember that clearly, because we talked about his god and the burning cage in the sky. I don't clearly remember saying that I am from Themyscira, but…" She looks awkwardly at Kal-El. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"Not according to him. He thought that you were dating."

"Ah."

Rina raises her right eyebrow. "'Dating'?"

"Arranged meeting during courtship where the two people involved find out whether they're compatible."

Her eyes widen, and she inclines her head towards Medina, who shakes her head.

"No! I just met him several times to ensure that he was of good character, then we had sex several times until it took."

"That's the same thing."

She frowns. "It is?"