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

[Mr Zoat]

11th July 2012
15:51 GMT

The city we're flying over looks like a cross between a factory complex and a medieval castle with just a few cyberpunk elements sprinkled on for taste. The highest point is a giant… Aerial, whose function I can only guess at. Below that the fortified buildings cluster with no externally clear rhyme or reason. Certainly I wouldn't say that any of them are in prime position. Qward leaves its mercantilism for the surface so there's no central business district in the way there would be in a human city. There's no greenery down here and in any case the Weaponers haven't historically been interested in gardening.

Kalmin heads for what I think is a landing zone near the top of a manufacturing complex, landing and striding confidently in the direction of the entrance. Since I've got no real idea where we're heading I just follow him, taking note of the positions and comportment of the Thunderers standing guard. They're alert, searching for potential threats and prepared to act against them immediately. I also haven't checked the q'ardajin concept of law and order. Given what Kalmin said earlier I imagine that they do have one, but I also imagine that there'd be a very large amount of leeway for Thunderers protecting senior Weaponers.

"High Weaponlord Kalmin. It's good to see you."

Weaponer Lysis steps into the open, a retinue of two Thunderers accompanying her.

"It's not good at all. Did you know that imbecile Varnathon-?"

"This is-. Not the best place to talk about it. Not if you want to win over other Councillors before you act."

"I'm issuing a challenge, not plotting a secret conspiracy."

"But the transfer of power needs to be controlled. Managed. Otherwise it will cost us valuable resources."

Kalmin grimaces as the two of them head further into the building, the Thunderers and I falling in behind them.

"I can't imagine that Varnathon has created a resource shortage. I saw the tribute ships in orbit."

"Trade ships, for the most part."

"What is he.. trading?"

"Not qwa matter, if that's what you're wondering. I reviewed the records after we spoke. His deal with the matter universe must be something he handled personally."

"Who else would know about it?"

"If it wasn't for the fact that I didn't know about it, I'd suggest asking me."

I check, but she's using shielding as effective as that of her former mentor.

"Then who?"

"His drones, Tacticos and Strategos. He takes them everywhere with him."

"Irritating things. I'm glad that you haven't adopted the habit."

"But you have."

"An automated weapon platform. It's an adequate aide, but it doesn't manage my life and it knows when to keep silent."

"I would be fascinated to open it up and take a look myself, once our business here is concluded."

I bet you would. Shame those eyes reduce her facial expressiveness, because I'd love to see the look on her face when she saw me.

"You can just ask me for the schematics. It actually uses a fascinating matter disruption weapon that I acquired from a foe of Harold Jordan's."

"Matter disruption… The Crumbler?"

"The very same. The man was a lunatic, but I can't help but wonder if the Anti-Monitor touched his mind in some way."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that."

Kalmin shakes his head.

"Our species has a unique relationship with the Anti-Monitor, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't make use of aliens from time to time. Even I do that."

There's a bulkhead door up ahead, Thunderers with qwa bolt quivers on their backs and spears in their hands guarding it. Kalmin nods approvingly as one of them takes a moment to verify their identities before stepping aside and opening the door.

Inside… It reminds me a little of the klingon courtroom from the Star Trek films. It's clearly a space designed to allow the people in the centre to argue their case to the people in the surrounding balconies, built of tough metal and with little thought given to comfort. Kalmin accelerates to get into the focus of the room as quickly as possible while Lysis satisfies herself with lurking near the door. The Thunderers stop outside of the room but with no direct instruction from Kalmin I opt to mirror Lysis's position.

The balconies are occupied by a variety of q'ardajin. I see armour like Kalmin's as well as work overalls alongside what I suspect is a q'ardajin designer suit. Behind them lurk Thunderers, robots and aides. All of the people in leading positions are male and I only spot a couple of females at all. Only one of whom is wearing the bikini/thigh boot combination that Weaponer Lysis mentioned.

I wonder what that's about, aside from the obvious.

"Councillors. Weaponers of Qward. I bring grim tidings. Yesterday I bore witness to an alien race using significant amounts of qwa matter as a bomb."

The Weaponers don't rant or rave, but I see flickers of rage and hear a few whispered oaths.

"We all know the nature of qwa energy. We all know that the Anti-Monitor shared its secrets with no other people, even amongst his other allies. It is our sole providence. That is what has prompted my return. Varnathon is trading qwa matter!"

Kalmin pulls an orb off his equipment harness and tosses it up into the air. It floats in the upper portion of the chamber, flickers and then projects a hologram of my fight with the qwa energy weapon wielding scarab warrior, though there are a lot of other notations on the energy output and other characteristics of the weapon. He then holds out his right hand and pulls out the gun out of subspace before tossing it to the ground in front of him. The Weaponers in attendance activate their own sensors, aside from a couple who just freeze up. Though I'm not sure if it's in shock that their High Weaponlord would do that or something else.

"And worse, this!"

The holographic image changes to a recording… Of my death. The actual explosion is played in slow motion, and again there are the notations to prove that what occurred actually occurred.

"Why has this happened?! Why have you, Councillors, allowed this to happen unchecked?! Why has this betrayal of the Anti-Monitor, this betrayal of Qward, been allowed to happen?!"

Kalmin pauses, walking a circuit of the room and making eye contact with the Weaponers who are giving him their rapt attention.

"And that is not the end of his malignancy! I learned not an hour ago that he has changed the life assignment rating systems so that q'ardajin who would once have become Thunderer-cadets or Weaponer-apprentices are now sent for medical experimentation!"

The holographic image changes again, this time… Showing the data he took from the Qwardian data networks. This he gives them a few moments to take in, probably because it's a bit more complex than 'there was an explosion'.

"I failed Qward. I failed the Anti-Monitor, and my only complaint about my fate is that I was left alive. But I did not deliberately sabotage my own people! Varnathon has lost any right to be High Weaponlord!"

A few of the Weaponers just nod right away, while the general emotional output of those I can read suggests that they're decidedly unimpressed with Varnathon's actions.

"I move that Varnathon be killed and that this Council select a replacement from amongst its number! And in case you think that I do this for self-serving reasons, I will point out that I am not a member of this Council any longer. This is not about personal advancement, but about ensuring-."

The door at the opposite end of the court arena slams open, and-.

"All bow! All bow!"

"Bow for the High Weaponlord, Varnathon of Q'uldi!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July 2012
15:57 GMT

Varnathon is… Plain-looking. Aside from a bronze-coloured cranial cybernetic on the right side of his forehead, I don't think I'd look at him twice if I passed him on the street. Kalmin is short and muscular, and glares at everything around him as if its existence offends him. Which it probably does. Varnathon's calm and polite smile makes me think of an actor or a politician of the Tony Blair school. Though I will at least credit him with the intelligence to use empathic shielding, because I can't tell for certain.

His flying head robots take up station just ahead of him as Kalmin reaches for his qwa bolt. The blue one stops just in front of Kalmin.

"Kalmin, High Weaponlord, deposed. Most notable projects-."

Illustres, kill it.

I trigger my armour's flight systems and lunge at the robot, grabbing it with both hands-

"Unknown automato-."

-and triggering my crumbler gauntlets. The flying blue head's protective energy fields preserve it for a few seconds, then the material of its construction begins to abrade. The facial armour peels away slowly, but the more vulnerable systems built into the rear vanish almost immediately. I shut down the crumbler effect when all I have in my hands is a scoured mask, which I toss at Kalmin's feet before returning to my corner.

Varnathon holds his breath as he looks at the broken mask, then takes a deep breath before putting the same smile as before back onto his face.

"Strategos wasn't a battle automaton. And frankly, aren't we both a little old for 'robot wars'?" He shrugs, and smiles condescendingly. "Though if you want to give me a few days I'm sure I can come up with something?"

"Qwa matter, Varnathon. Explain yourself!"

"I'm really not sure that I understand your problem, Kalmin." Varnathon looks upwards at the Councillors. "Does the Anti-Monitor himself not command us to destroy all with his gifts? Yes, I freely admit that I sold qwa matter and qwa energy based weaponry to these... Aliens. What of it? The secrets of its utilisation and creation remain ours. All they can do is use what I've provided them. And consider who they're fighting! A new Lantern Corps, sworn to the Maltusians, the very people who cast down the Anti-Monitor! I am only surprised that a man as faithful as Kalmin does not see the glory of it."

He stops, swivelling on the spot to stare directly at Kalmin.

"Oh! But of course! He joined them, didn't he?"

The green floating head that had hung back turns upwards and fires a small bolt of plasma at Kalmin's projector before projecting its own hologram of our meeting with Kalmin.

I wonder where he got the recording from? I mean, it would make sense for him to keep his predecessor under observation, but I doubt that Kalmin would be so negligent as to fail to check for things like that. Ex… Cept that he wanted to die and thought that Varnathon should kill him. So he might have left an opening deliberately.

Kalmin raises his hands slightly.

"Do you see a ring here, Varnathon? I've studied power ring technology for years. I don't use other people's weapons. And besides, I've already been cast down. I don't dispute that I'm unsuitable for office."

"If I must defend my actions, I've been trading qwa matter to better enable aliens to destroy one another. I think that we've long been too conservative in our use of the substance and I'm perfectly within my authority as High Weaponlord to make this change." He looks up again. "Unless anyone wants to dispute my right to trade the products of my own labour?"

"Destroy one another? They are using it as simply another weapon!"

"And so do we. That's literally all it can be used to do: destroy things."

Kalmin's face falls slightly and he stares directly at Varnathon.

"That's all it is to you?"

"That's all it is to any of us." Varnathon doesn't appear to pay any attention to the change in Kalmin's demeanour, continuing to focus on the crowd. "We can forge it into bolts to be thrown. We can bind small amounts to blades to create melee weapons of astonishing power. But that's it. We don't… What? Mine with it? Drill with it? Use it as a scouring agent to clean the floors? No, the idea is absurd. I put it in alien hands. And by doing so I gained a new flow of raw materials and novel technologies, and an in with another enemy of the Green Lantern Corps."

"You-? Varnathon, are you able to forge bolts yourself?"

He stops and looks at Kalmin, but he's not letting himself get angry or look anything other than totally confident in the situation.

"I didn't realise you were challenging me on the strength of my ability to perform apprentice work. I have admitted to trading qwa matter. If the Council think that's worth overthrowing me over, they can. As for the educational curriculum, I freely admit to having different priorities than my predecessors." He makes an exaggerated shrug. "So what? Just about every High Weaponlord before me has made some change or other. I believe -and Thunderlord Brikan agrees- that discipline and obedience are more useful traits in Thunderers than personal ferocity and initiative. If anyone here disagrees then I'm willing to discuss it with them, but I hardly see that as a justification for these… Histrionics. Now if there's nothing else, I have work-."

Kalmin summons qwa energy, and over the next ten seconds forms it into a qwa bolt.

"The ability to manipulate qwa energy is what separates us from alien chattel. It is a sign that the Anti-Monitor has marked us out. The idea that you can manipulate qwa energy sickens me, but you have the rank of Weaponer. You must be able to. The Anti-Monitor must at some point have considered you worthy of his blessing."

Kalmin holds out his newly created bolt slightly, inviting the audience to check it.

"Make a qwa bolt, Varnathon."

"Kalmin, you've lost. This is-."

"Make a qwa bolt, Varnathon."

"This is mildly insulting and also quite sad." Varnathon shakes his head. "Where do you think I got the qwa matter I traded to the Reach?"

Weaponer Lysis steps away from the wall a little way.

"Make a qwa bolt, Varnathon."

"Make a qwa bolt, Varnathon."

Varnathon shakes his head and spreads his arms. "Councillors, really?"

A few frowns, a few nods.

He sighs theatrically. "Very well, then." He holds out his hands in front of him. "I freely admit that it's not my strongest skill, but…" He turns his hands palms up and curls his fingers slightly in a gripping motion. "As you can see…" Faint wisps of energy appear between his fingers. "I'm perfectly capable…" It's still weak, but it's getting stronger, flowing outwards into the form of the traditional qwa bolt. "Of forging a qwa bolt. See?"

Kalmin doesn't look impressed.

"Robot."

"Directive, Weaponer?"

"Come here."

I walk up to him and he holds out the bolt he just forged.

"Take this."

Inside my armour I put up the strongest construct shields between my right arm and my brain that I can before reaching out with my right hand and taking it from him. There's a faint… I can only describe it as a humming sensation, but it otherwise handles like a solid object of its apparent dimensions.

"Further directive, Weaponer?"

"Go and stand in the corner."

"Compliance."

I walk backwards until I reach the edge of the room. Kalmin nods, then returns his attention to Varnathon.

"You see, Varnathon, that's how it's supposed to work. I admit, after I was deposed, I spent a good deal of time working on my skill at qwa energy manipulation. I might not be the most skilled here, but I am very good. I don't expect you to be as good as me. But I do expect you to be able to forge a single bolt. And if that's your bolt, why not deactivate your personal forge and show us?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July 2012
16:01 GMT

Varnathon is bald, which does a surprising amount to emphasize it when he sweats.

"If you're struggling… My days as an 'apprentice' are long behind me, but fortunately my most recent student is here: Weaponer and council-member Diataria Lysis. Weaponer Lysis, please demonstrate the process and refresh the High Weaponlord's memory."

"Certainly, Weaponer Kalmin."

Lysis adopts a similar posture to Varnathon, both hands extended with her palms upwards. The light of qwa energy appears in her hands, a little faster than it did for Varnathon but not to a huge degree. We all watch as it fills out the space for a traditional qwa bolt, then…

"Anti-Monitor judge my worth-. Me worthy."

The qwa energy flickers, then solidifies into qwa matter. Lysis holds it for a moment, then holds it out to Kalmin. He takes it and considers it for a moment before nodding approvingly. He then holds it up so that he's eyeing Varnathon over it.

"Let go, Varnathon. Let us see this 'bolt' you have made."

Varnathon hesitates for a moment, then exhales.

"I refuse to participate in this stupidity any further."

The glow over his hands weakens, then-. Then I brace as the qwa energy he gathered explodes! Shields flare into being in every balcony, Kalmin parries with his hammer and Lysis dives behind me. That was-. Nothing like as powerful as the blast that killed me, but by the time the flare of energy has died down Varnathon has already beaten a speedy retreat back through the door he came in by.

"Weaponer Lysis, are you injured?"

"No."

I watch through my rear-facing cameras as she picks herself up.

"Do you require the loan of enhanced defensive technologies?"

"Not from a machine."

"Weaponer Kalmin has demonstrated that he values your continued existence. Any device I supply to you would be from his armoury."

"No, machine."

"Standing by."

I should pretend to be a robot more often. It's surprisingly fun.

Kalmin raises his arms, qwa bolts safely stowed but hammer still in hand.

"Councillors! What say you!?"

"Well…" One of the Councillors -one in a lightly armoured suit rather than armour- leans on his balcony. "That was disappointing. Very disappointing. But he answered your complaints. I will check the protocols at the youth-training centres in my city and ask for more information on his trading-."

"He just failed to demonstrate the ability to carry out a task that all Weaponers must perform in order to even be Weaponers!"

"Oh, I'm sure we've all gotten a little rusty." The Councillor looks around at his fellows. Who mostly don't meet his eyes, but aren't exactly shouting out to denounce him. "I've barely done any work with qwa matter since I completed my apprenticeship."

"I see. I see. And the rest of you?"

The silence is deafening. I smile inside my armour.

"That's… Not entirely unexpected. Robot."

"Standing by."

"Qwa bolt."

I step closer and hold it out. He takes it from me and bows his head for a moment. And I take a few paces back, because-.

Kalmin flings the qwa bolt in the direction of the Councillor who dismissed him! The shield activates again but is blasted apart, the Councillor's personal shield lighting up for a moment as he staggers backwards! Kalmin's second bolt strikes him directly, vaporising him, his retinue and the entire compartment.

I leap into the gap, fists extended and crumbler fields expanded as far as they'll go! Dying to a qwa matter detonation once might be regarded as unfortunate and all that. The floor here is gone, but the energy shield protecting the next compartment is still whole. Metal and plasma shield both fail as my fists gouge chunks out of the divide, and I pull both fists downwards to create a section of wall I can knock down.

Qwa matter detonations start going off behind me, my rear cameras picking up Kalmin batting qwa bolts away from him with his hammer and returning them to their senders. Slashes finished I pull back my arms and boost, the compartment divide failing and the Thunderers within frantically grasping for their next bolts.

Too slow. One takes a chunk of wall to the chest and is knocked back while the other gets a fist to the face. The Councillor… Gone. Legged it, maybe. Right, I'm out of the line of fire of most of the surviving Thunderers and there are two-.

The Thunderer I hit with the wall cuts his way free with a qwa blade. He's clearly injured but he's coherent and this armour isn't great at brawling. I reconfigure-.

Weaponer Lysis steps around me and shoots him in the gap between his visor and gorget, killing him instantly.

"Robot."

She grabs a quiver and pulls out a qwa bolt, tests the weight and then throws it out of the balcony towards the other side of the room. It detonates inside a compartment that has already lost its shielding, killing the occupants.

"Assault."

I fly upwards at full speed, fists over my head. I punch through the ceiling into the next compartment up, a soldier who'd been firing a gun over the balcony railing getting a fist through his legs and falling-

"Aagh!"

-screaming over the edge.

"Compliance."

The Weaponer draws a pistol so I project a kinetic barrier, causing his arm to bounce off apparently empty space as he tries to bring it to bear. He reflexively pulls the trigger as it hits, firing a black beam which by pure luck hits his other bodyguard and disintegrates his soft tissues. His armour-covered skeleton collapses to the floor as I charge the Weaponer down, slapping my two hands together through either side of his torso.

Ring, transmit.

"Kalmin, is there actually a plan here?"

Lysis flies up through the hole behind me and steps in front of me, making sure that my bulk is between her and the balcony. I can't see Kalmin and the arena looks pretty wrecked.

"Kill everyone here, then pursue Varnathon."

I punch through into the compartment to my right and then step back. Lysis throws a qwa bolt through the gap, the wall warping as it detonates on the far side.

"Does that include Lysis?"

"No."

"Good, because-"

I shoulder my way through the wrecked wall. Doesn't look like anyone was in here. I turn towards the balcony to try and see if there's anyone still around.

"-she's with me and that would be awkward."

The room looks like a series of bombs have hit it. I can see corpses and body parts, but as Kalmin walks out of the smoke and vapour from one of the upper balconies I can't see any living targets.

"Now for Varnathon."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July 2012
16:04 GMT

"You're not a robot, are you?"

"I can see how you made it onto the Council of Commanders."

I take another moment to look at the sheer destruction the three of us dealt out to the chamber and its occupants.

"Not sure what the rest of these morons did."

"Learned to manipulate qwa energy and avoided dying. Do you intend to follow Kalmin?"

"I'd feel like a bit of a prat if I came this far and then gave up. But I don't have a map. I don't know the best route."

"The quickest route between two points is a straight line. If you can't teleport."

"Yeah, well-." I jump off the balcony and float into the pit that is now the centre of the room. "Excuse me for being less collateral damage happy than a q'ardajin. Don't you want this city intact?"

Lysis floats towards the door which Varnathon -and presumably Kalmin- exited through.

"As if a squabble like this could destroy a Qwardian city. Alien, you underestimate us."

"You thought that I was a robot." A quick look around with empathic vision shows no one in close proximity, thought that means about as much around here as it would on Earth. "So are you looking for a new job now?"

She hurries after Kalmin, a long qwa knife in her right hand while her left strains to forge a new qwa bolt.

"Why do you ask?"

"Ranx has been making noises about wanting a chief engineer. Kalmin's busy, but it seems to me that working on a giant battle station cum shipyard might be something a Weaponer could lower themselves to do."

I can't hear any close noises. Q'ardajin are probably intelligent enough to make themselves scarce in situations like this, though the lack of Thunderers from the local garrison is a little strange.

"Who are you?"

"Come on, my voiceprint should be on file."

She accelerates to a jog, checking all directions as we hurry wherever this corridor goes.

"A human. Are you the ginger-haired one or the brown-skinned one?"

"Neither. Where do you think Varnathon is heading?"

"Most likely-."

There's an explosion from somewhere ahead of us. And then another. And then another.

We wait for a moment, then accelerate to a run.

"I didn't tell Varnathon of this meeting, and his personal flier is on the city's Councillor's landing pad. Either he was already here -which is possible- or he was warned and flew directly here because he wanted to ensure that he had somewhere safe to retreat to. But Kalmin annihilated Councillor Parekh so that's no longer guaranteed. Kalmin knows where Parekh's home is, and vehicular flight is not a reliable way to evade a qwa bolt. He might try to get to the mass transit teleport array, but Kalmin might disrupt that."

"That doesn't-."

We run out onto a large balcony, the remains of a large flying vehicle smouldering in the middle.

I… Jog to a stop.

"Kalmin, can you see Varnathon?"

"I'm tracking him. Don't concern yourself."

"He might go to Parekh's house for shelter. Is the mass transit teleporter closer?"

Lysis nods. "And it has fewer security checks. None he couldn't override with Tacticos."

"Anywhere else he might have gone?"

"Not with Weaponers fleeing in all directions. Otherwise he could organise a coordinated counterattack. He could try taking a civilian craft, but Kalmin could easily down it."

"What about going to ground?"

"He doesn't have any allies here."

"The question isn't so much 'do they like him' as 'do they like him more than the man who killed a load of their peers and is trying to kill them'. Or how hard would it be for him to disguise himself as another Weaponer? How do we even know that the person we spoke to was Varnathon?"

"No, we verified his identity when he came in. Though he… Might have slipped away."

"I will confirm his identity from his corpse."

"Kalmin's busy." I step into an alcove. "I'm going to focus on a scan. Stab me if we get attacked."

Okay, Kalmin would have spotted a vehicle, but on foot? So I'm looking for known disguise systems at ground level within running distance.

Quintessence waveform scan.

I feel… Spikey, images coming in fits and starts rather than the smooth expansion of my mind that happened last time. No, no, no… I see all of the q'ardajin who fled, hid… Every mote of energy, but it… Makes more sense? I don't do this enough to have a-.

…

No. No. End.

I stomp my armour out of the corner, Lysis raising her blade slightly. Looks like minimal time loss. I need to get more baselines for that sort of thing so I know how long it's going to take.

"I found him. This way."

I rise into the air at speed, Lysis lagging-. I drop down, wrap my right arm around her and then accelerate, heading towards the top of the building that recently contained a meeting of the Council of Commanders.

And the school graduates currently holding High Weaponlord Varnathon at gunpoint.

I let Lysis go when we reach the upper surface, and-

"…ly happy to negotiate something, but we need to leave now."

-fly towards where Varnathon is frantically trying to persuade them to work with him. He's wearing another q'ardajin's face. They don't know who they've got.

The one armed female scowls as she sees me.

"Are we going to be rewarded for turning this one in?"

"You want to turn Varnathon in for a reward? Yes, I think we can negotiate."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July 2012
16:08 GMT

"I'm not-. Varnathon. He's-" Varnathon turns back to the students. "-probably a dozen t-units away by now!"

Different accent, different cadence and different diction. I don't know if he's actually matching the man he looks like but he can't have gotten this far in life without being good at something.

The one-armed woman looks cautiously at me.

"Robot?"

I smile and send my heavy armour into subspace, replacing it with construct armour.

"Surprise! I-."

One of the students reflexively shoots me.

"You know, I can see why you were assigned to medical experimentation."

The student next to him swivels on his heel and punches him in the face, knocking him to the deck.

"Thank you. So, Varnathon, are you willing to accept that I can scan you through whatever disguise you're wearing, or do I have to stab and electrocute you until I work out how to turn it off?"

One-arm q'ardajin frowns.

"He's probably using a simple mass diffractor. A relatively small-."

"Stab and electrocute, because it's not always about efficiency."

"You're the Orange Lantern who-? I thought you'd kill him!"

He reaches up and touches his forehead, the disguise evaporating a moment later.

"Why didn't you kill him!? You had a perfect opportunity!"

"I wanted his skills."

"Do you have any idea how many people he's killed?!"

"An entire planet driven mad with fear for Sinestro's ring alone."

"That's the least of it! Two species went extinct when he tested out the antithesis ring delivery system alone! He hunted down and vivisected dozens of Green Lanterns, then tortured them to death to try and work out how their connections to their rings worked!"

I nod.

"Do you have their names? It would help with their record-keeping."

"You don't..? Care?"

"The fact that Kalmin's evil isn't exactly news to me. I'm a little surprised that you're so exercised about it, though."

"You're working with a man who genuinely wants to destroy all reality!"

"Yes?"

"Why?!"

"I really need someone with his skill set. And there's only so much evil he can do when we're watching him so closely."

"I thought I was watching him, then you and the ginger-haired Green Lantern turned up!"

"Look, are you going somewhere with this?"

"I've been reforming q'ardajin society! The Council of Commanders are stupefied into indolence, the Thunderers reduced to menacing the few aliens who actually come here and the remaining Weaponers building for export! This is the least destructive Qward has ever been!"

"That's-. You're actually trying to make Qward less evil?"

"I understand your scepticism, but yes!"

One-arm points her gun at his head. "Explain yourself."

"We're a species governed by mad scientists! I'm in the process of changing our culture so that we'll become a normal empire, conquering people to exploit their resources and to swell our egos, not out of a sense of obligation to a god who quite literally wants to kill us!" He glares at me. "Why are you even here!?"

"You're trading with the Reach."

"Probably? Who are-? The ones with no noses and beetle-themed elite soldiers?"

"Yes. You sold them qwa-matter."

"For which they paid extremely well. Access to their supply chains and distribution networks will enrich Qward without giving them anything radically different to the weapons they already deploy."

"Are you aware that they're fighting the Orange Lantern Corps?"

He stares at me for a few moments.

"Oh eat my marrow."

"Why were we selected for medical experimentation?"

"Because to change the q'ardajin I need to be able to control them. I need at least one generation of Weaponers to not try and overthrow the existing order. I need stability."

"We learned all the lessons we were taught, we did all we were asked, and you decided that you couldn't use us."

"Yes, but that doesn't matter now! You, Lantern, you could take them. Take them back to your universe with you, and I'll continue to change Qward. I'll even agree not to sell to anyone in the matter universe. Grant me isolation and I'll make a Qward that has forgotten both you and the Anti-Monitor!"

Ah, man. I don't like deliberately making a society worse, but this is Qward we're talking about. And he's right; I could drop a group of young q'ardajin off with Dox's Research and Development people… Heck, I could probably talk Dr. Sivana into taking them on as graduate students. Amalak would take them. He's probably got plenty of opportunities for ruthless, self-motivated young people with no next of kin.

"Alright lads and lasses. How would you feel about working away from home?"

One arm lowers her gun slightly.

"Not excited, but it's better than medical experimentation."

"That's a positive attitude if ever I heard one. Varnathon, I need to verify your story. You're wearing something that shields you against mental intrusion. Please remove it."

He touches his forehead cybergraft and… Ah, there we go. I can see him.

Why are these idiots always tearing everything down? Don't they see how much stronger we could be if we used our resources more efficiently?

O-oh. It's like looking at myself. And not just because I'm feeling what he's feeling. He sees the same potential in Qward that I see in Earth: not just serving an uncaring god but building a mighty empire across the stars.

But it's just not in my interests to let him.

I stick a construct muzzle over his face.

"Kalmin, come to my location. We have him."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July 2012
16:16 GMT

And while he's on the way…

"I'm sorry, I've been thinking of you as 'one-armed q'ardajin female'. What's your name?"

"Test Subject Daciya. And you are responsible for the loss of my arm."

"It was that or get eaten by a Devourer. And if getting eaten was more acceptable than getting saved by an alien, suck it up." Though… "How would you like a replacement arm?"

"I can design my own arm, alien."

"Why did I bother asking?" I raise my left hand. "I'm-."

"I'd…" One of the q'ardajin covering Varnathon with a small pistol looks my way, his shirt caked in blood. "I'd like it if you could fix my injuries. My name's Nauca."

"Not 'Test Subject'? Did your parents actually like you or something?"

"One way or another I don't think we're going to be test subjects after today. I'm.. bleeding quite heavily."

"Right."

An orange beam from my ring touches his chest, mapping his body and showing me his injuries. He's… Showing an impressive degree of fortitude, keeping himself functioning. He's certainly in a lot of pain, which I stop right away.

"Ah!"

Kalmin's never let me scan him properly, but I'm getting an excellent idea of how q'ardajin bodies work now. Patching him up is simple enough; even the implanted cybernetics are straightforward enough in function that I can work out what they're meant to look like.

"Better?"

He nods happily, smiling. "I'll kill you last, alien."

"I'm going to pretend that was a translation bug and you actually meant to say something nice there."

"What, do you want to be killed first?"

Several of the others are awkwardly smiling, so I'm going to assume that it's a q'ardajin expression. I turn back to Daciya. "How about I replace your organic arm, and you can cut it off later once you've built the replacement you want?"

"That-. What?"

This isn't working. Kalmin's approaching, and… I scan her, attach filaments to her shoulder stump to pin her in place and recreate her arm.

"Weaponer Lysis, is this sort of contrariness common amongst q'ardajin?"

"Test Subject Daciya's test scores indicated strong will and an inclination to self-determination. And having an alien touching our bodies like that…" She moues. "Repulsive. I can well understand."

"So are none of you interested in a job off Qward?"

"I'll take it." Nauca raises his right hand. "I'll take it. I'm looking for something safe, like assault infantry."

I nod. "I'm sure we can accommodate-." Kalmin flies over the rooftop and lands next to me, his eyes fixed on Varnathon. "Kalmin. One High Weaponlord."

"One craven. Has he tried to justify himself to you?"

"Yes."

Kalmin generates a new qwa bolt.

"Varnathon, you never fail to disappoint. What, were you trying to build a mortal empire? Something you could rule like a king while you traded with your 'peers'?"

I remove the construct muzzle.

"Yes you madman that's exactly what I wanted! Why do you want to destroy everything?!"

Kalmin's bolt stabilises, and he studies it for a moment.

"If I have to explain it, then I don't think you can understand."

"Kalmin, you have irreconcilable differences. You're not going to agree with one another about anything. If you're going to kill him, there's-"

Kalmin stabs Varnathon with the bolt, disintegrating him in a flash of light.

"-no point dragging it out."

"Mm."

Lysis regards Kalmin cautiously.

"He's dead. That's what you came here for. What now?"

"This is only part of what I'm here for. I need to contact the surviving members of the Council of Commanders."

"I doubt that they'll be willing to meet you again."

"They don't need to be physically present to hear my words."

She nods. "I'm sending you the communication protocols now. They should all be able to receive you."

"Who is in charge now?"

Lysis sneers. "Technically, Thunderlord Brikan, until the immediate threat is resolved and a new High Weaponlord can be chosen. Or if someone was feeling suicidally brave they could don the Weapons of Rengar and become Highlord. That used to happen a lot. It was a good way of excising the brash and stupid from our socie-. Ty."

She looks at Kalmin, and for a moment appears genuinely afraid.

"How does that work?"

"Rengar's blade and helm are unique qwa energy manipulation devices. Only someone who has mastered qwa energy could hope to wear them without being destroyed. Kalmin, is that what you intend?"

Kalmin bows his head slightly.

"I had considered it. Had the Council of Commanders been even a little less craven I may well have done it. But if the virtue of Qward rests on the shoulders of any one man then Qward is too rotted to be saved. To be worth saving."

"What, then?"

"Transmit my next words."

She nods, raising her right forearm slightly.

"Commanders of Qward. Inheritors of the traditions of the Anti-Monitor, who raised us from ignorance and gave us divine purpose. You have become weak, and in your failings you have made Qward weak. High Weaponlord Varnathon is dead by my hand but I will neither replace him nor name a replacement. You will become better. You will raise yourselves above your current lamentable level of mediocrity and become as you should be, or upon my return I will scour the rest of you from creation."

"These are the words of Weaponer Kalmin. Heed them."

He nods, and Lysis lowers her arm.

"I don't know if they'll listen or if none will hear me. Either way, the Anti-Monitor's purpose is served. And what will you do, Weaponer Councilwoman Lysis?"

"I find that watching you work has renewed my ambition. I will improve Qward or die trying."

Kalmin smiles. And it looks genuine.

"I'm pleased to hear it. And as for the rest of you…" He looks at the students. "I suppose it is only reasonable that I do my part in teaching the next generation."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July 2012
18:29 GMT

Hinon nods, a small smile on her face.

"Qward is in turmoil, their leader dead and their leadership decimated. A nearly entirely satisfactory outcome, and I wasn't actually expecting Kalmin to die. I'm actually quite-."

She leans to the left, looking behind me as Kalmin's new students trail after him. Several of them are staring around in half-cringed caution, but Daciya refuses to look either left or right, striding purposefully through the Maltusian city.

"And suddenly I'm not. Would you mind explaining that?"

"Would you mind explaining how a Controller with the powers you do and the senses you have didn't know they were here until you saw them with your eyes?"

"I could." Her face becomes oddly blank. "Why don't you explain it to me?"

"You're millions of years old. Your whole 'irritable old woman' persona is affected for my benefit."

"Not just for your benefit. My interactions with almost every non-Maltusian have improved since I started openly brow-beating them."

"It's what we expect. It fits in with our preconceptions."

"The vast majority of sentient beings from social species expect a degree of punishment when they step outside of accepted bounds of acceptable behaviour. Minor insults meet that need while also stimulating a desire for praise."

I frown.

"You don't need to act with me, Hinon Hee Hannanan. I'd much rather know the real you."

"I am very old, Illustres Paul. Without a shell personality I would barely be able to interact with young creatures like you. This is far more effective than the alternative. Trust me to know my business."

"I do. Alright, crotchety grandmother it is-."

Her face snaps back to life.

"I'm so glad that I have your approval. I don't know what I would have done without it."

I bow my head for a moment, smiling-.

"The q'ardajin, Illustres. Why are they here?"

"Kalmin wants to teach them how to be 'proper' q'ardajin. I want them to get used to interacting with other species as equals. Our ends are contradictory but our methods are the same: bring them here."

"You had the perfect opportunity to take the steps required to exterminate their wretched breed. Instead, you brought more q'ardajin here."

"Varnathon showed that they can be something else. Without prompting, even. We need to stop anyone trading with the Reach but I don't think that their species needs to go." Unless-. "Unless the Anti-Monitor is coming back and we need to deny him resources. Do we?"

"Not as far as we can tell."

"Then… That's why. Oh, and I need to schedule tests… Medical examinations, for myself. This whole incident has made me aware that no one knows what my healthy baselines are, and I need to fix that."

"Yes, that would be helpful. And perhaps you should keep a few spare clones of yourself laying around, just so we're prepared for your next death."

"Ah. Maybe. I actually need to pop back to Earth first to make sure that I'm fully alive. I'll be back tomorrow."

"I will ensure that the physicians are lined up."

"Thank you."

I raise…

Do I really need to keep doing that? Copying Goku was amusing to start with, but it's honestly…

I snort.

Just as amusing now as it ever was. I raise my fingers to my forehead

step out, looking for large and long-denied desires to judge fairly and rule well, a desire I'm a part of as I saw to it being fulfilled. I see it and

reappear just outside Hades's palace, waving to a guard as I walk closer.

"Could you please let Lord Hades know that I'm here and would like to speak with him?"

11th July 2012
21:47 GMT +3

"You really must try to stop dying like this."

"I'm not doing it deliberately, my lord."

Hades gives me a look of mild frustration. It's almost paternal, really. After being told that I was visiting he decided to recess his court. Rather than being annoyed by the delay, the line of disorientated aliens outside were giving me grateful nods. It's nice to be appreciated.

"I suppose I should be grateful for that much. There are Discordians who would have done, just to vex me."

"No part of me came here, then?"

"'No part'..? By Gaea, what killed you?"

"A qwa energy blast wave. But dying in deep space far from a living world doesn't work like dying on Earth. I needed to take a few hours to stick myself back together."

"I can only apologise for the poor service I was able to grant you. Again."

"Thank you, but if I came here I might have felt obliged to stay. Though I… Was wondering..?"

"Give me a moment to fortify myself. … Very well, ask your question."

"As a god, you're tied to Earth's thaumosphere. But you get a lot of your power from Erebos, don't you?" He nods. "And as a titan, Erebos doesn't have that same restriction. Or.. does it?"

Hades looks down the line of petitioners, then points. "Look you there."

I follow his finger, seeing-.

"A gordanian?"

"He was on the wrong side of the ceasefire line. He tried hiding in that temple you built to me, but that only worked for a time before the mob killed him. But before his death, he read some of the literature you left and prayed to me, and that was sufficient."

"I'll let Mother of Mercy know."

"He's not the first and won't be the last. However, as far as I can tell Erebos's reach only extends to those who are on planets. It might just be that no one who has seen your work and become sufficiently devoted to me has died in space yet, or it could be something else. I genuinely don't know."

I nod. That's worth investigating further.

"Next question then: if Erebos connects to everywhere, how would you feel about a spaceport?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

The Other Half

12th July 2012
11:12 GMT -2

"…derstand that you want to stand by your man, Clea, but politically it's a really bad idea."

Queen Clea's rejuvenation has progressed since I first awakened her. She's gone from well-preserved sixty something to athletic fifty something, though if you were seeing her every day you probably wouldn't notice the transition. This being Atlantis I'm sure that someone knows that she's changed magically but as far as I know no Atlantean magicians have had a chance to study the Awakening process.

"I've been assuming that Orin knows." She regards me with sceptical curiosity. "Do you honestly believe that he doesn't?"

Does Orin know? It wouldn't be hard to have a genomorph get close enough to check, but I've found it's a good idea not to do anything you might have to deny in court later. I'm pretty sure that he had no agents in Venturia before Clea attempted a rapprochement, but now..? He probably has agents in the city; the expansion of trade with the surface has required that a great deal more people receive permission to live in the city. But he almost certainly doesn't have agents in place to know about Mr. Hyde's visits, at least by palace intrigue means. If he knows, it's more likely that he has the city under external observation. Or he's been tracking the Manta Sub.

Though I suppose that after today it won't really matter.

"I'd… Guess that he doesn't. I think he'd be a lot more curious if he were able to link the three of us together, rather than just me with each of you."

"I don't much care whether he's pardoned or not."

"It's not the pardon I'm worried about risking, it's your easy economic integration with the rest of Atlantis. If you do end up marrying him… People here do remember his previous attacks."

"I suppose that's the disadvantage of reengaging with the rest of Atlantis. But honestly, treating a mercenary soldier as if they'd committed a crime by fighting in a war." She shakes her head. "I thought the surface world treated wars as morally neutral?"

"Wars are generally considered to be a bad thing, but as long as the soldiers involved act within certain bounds they aren't punished for the decisions of their political superiors. Other than by… Getting shot, obviously."

"There you are, then."

I frown, puzzled.

"Are you saying that if he'd acted against Venturia, you'd have been happy to let him go then?"

"If I'd already killed his employer, yes. If I hadn't, then I'd kill him as a message to both my people and to his employer. But if I took any of his troopers alive I wouldn't kill more than a few of them. Is that not how they do things on Apokolips?"

"Ah… It being understood that I hate the way Apokolips does things?" She nods. "We don't really have that sort of social dynamic. Darkseid is an autocrat-."

"I'm an autocrat."

"Yes, but there's 'autocracy' and 'autocracy'. You have supreme political power, but if you turned enough of your courtiers against you they could still kill you and replace you. You might not need their support legally but you need their support practically. Darkseid could quite cheerfully kill the entire Apokoliptian Elite himself with no help from anyone, and Apokolips would mostly carry on as it did before until he could replace them, if he even bothered."

"How can he rule like that?"

"A lack of interest in developing the talents of-. Oh, you mean in the practical sense." I shrug. "Beat someone often enough and ninety nine point nine nine… Percent of the time, they stop getting up. That, and actual mind control."

"He can puppet so many?"

"No, but the anti-life aura heavily discourages certain types of thought and action. A few -like my brother Scott- can resist, but for most… Myself included, it's… Acting against him is… Nearly unthinkable."

"But you did."

"Even Darkseid can't watch everyone all the time. Not yet, anyway. And I neither remember how I did it nor can say for certain that he didn't just let me. He let Scott escape, after all." I shake my head, snorting with amusement. "I find it funny when humans complain about the tyranny of one or other of their own governments. They really have no idea…"

"Ping!"

"Ah, they're starting." I bow. "Excuse me, your majesty."

She makes a shooing motion with her right hand.

"You are excused."

BOOM!

A portal opens in the Venturian embassy and I step through, emerging at the back of the Poseidonian throne room. David Hyde and two of his senior officers are kneeling in a pocket of air while a-. Oh, Queen Mera's doing it. I suppose that makes sense. She's taken small samples of their blood with a… Pen-like needle, which she's now using to write runes on the bottom of the vellum copy of their pardons. She doesn't need to write the whole thing in their blood -that would be impractical- but the anchor point for the spell needs something a little more emphatic than squid ink. Mr. Hyde and the others are in their usual scuba gear, though obviously they weren't allowed to bring weapons here.

She nods, and one of her aides takes the still-damp document and one of the pens to Mr. Hyde. He rises slightly, takes the pen and signs his name in his own blood before passing both back. A change of pen and his chief engineer does the same. Another change of pen and his senior marine signs his name. The document is then returned to Queen Mera, who checks it over with glowing hands. She breathes sharply, then nods and presents it to King Orin.

Orin does not look even slightly happy about this, though I'm glad Manta and Co. are keeping any sense of triumph they feel off their faces.

"You understand that once I sign this, if you commit any act of violent aggression in Atlantean territory, your blood will be immediately transmuted into seawater."

Mr. Hyde has resumed his kneeling position. He nods.

"Yes, your majesty. We understand."

Orin takes a new pen from an aide and jabs it into his arm. He gives it a moment, then pulls it out and puts it to the pardon.

"By the power vested in me as King of Atlantis, I, King Orin, hereby issue this pardon."

He signs his name, and there's a brief flicker of magic as it takes hold.

"Now get out of my sight."

The three of them rise, Mr. Hyde slightly ahead of the other two. They bow, then turn and head in my direction. Mera gets closer to Orin and mutters something, which seems to calm him down a little. Yeah, I need to do something nice for Atlantis to make up for this. At least if I want to do anything with the place in future, which I probably do.

I exert myself, generating an air pocket around myself for their benefit.

"So. You're free men."

Mr. Hyde nods. "In Atlantis, anyway. How much does Horne want for a US pardon?"

"I… Think in that case you'll probably be waiting for his successor. Or… Some fairly huge act of public penance that you're not getting paid for. I mean, you're not exactly… I don't know, Thaddeus Sivana, but there's a limit to who a US President can get away with pardoning."

"Maybe you should have called me in to help with the Sheeda."

"You aren't equipped for that sort of fight yet. You're an important asset, and I won't give you jobs if the risks aren't worth the returns." I shake my head and smile. "How are you planning to celebrate?"

"I think I'm going to tell my ex-junior gunnery officer and his floozy exactly what I think of them."

…

Ahhhhhhh!

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
11:15 GMT -2

I watch as Grayven steps through the portal, careful to avoid being in a position where anyone on the far side could see me. It's curious that he feels the need to be personally present; I certainly wouldn't feel that my presence was necessary during the promotion of, say, a captain. Certainly not one from another city, no matter how close our relationship was. Given all that he's said of his own nature I'm a little concerned that means that on some level he considers everyone on Earth to be his vassals.

His 'boom tube' closes after he steps through, and I walk over to the balcony overlooking… I smile. Poseidonis. Not long ago I assumed that I'd never see this accursed city again. The Royal Palace and the Conservatory of Sorcery are much unchanged, at least from the outside. But it has been a long time. Stone has increasingly been replaced by cultured coral growth, and… Ah, that's new. Some sort of living structure..? How charmingly bizarre. The buildings are generally higher, and the codes they're using for the patterns of bioluminescence have changed a good deal. Sixty years ago the aim was to keep things simple. Now-.

I wonder if it's because it's less expensive now, or just a change in fashion? Expense isn't really an issue in Venturia at the moment, but if my city's new residents start making their buildings glow it could look a little messy. Will I need to send bailiffs around to the architects to remind them that Venturia's building regulations are not the same as those in their home cities? My own trade missions have been firmly instructed that their trade houses are to blend in, but I can't assume that my fellow rulers will have been as sensible.

I send a tiny mote of mana into my summoning ring, informing my courtiers that they may enter. I was… A little discomported to discover that in Poseidonis the lower orders use something similar to arrange anonymous sexual liaisons, but thankfully the design is sufficiently dissimilar that I doubt any of them mistook my intentions.

Behind me my advisors file in. Cyprian's acting as my regent in Venturia itself, which… I can't help but feel a little guilty about 'blocking his advancement' like this. Goodness knows he's done more to deserve being my heir than any of the other placeholders I've designated over the decades. When I asked him he told me that he only wanted to serve Venturia to the best of his abilities, and I know that's… True. I also know for a fact that I'd be nothing like as equanimitous in his place. I struck gold there in a way that my own father didn't with me, and I'm sure he'll stay loyal when it becomes obvious that 'Crown Prince' is a near-completely empty title.

But it seems like a waste.

I turn towards the table where my cabinet are now awaiting my presence and swim to my position at the head of the table. I take a moment to make eye contact with everyone, then nod to my Chancellor.

"Your majesty. The first issue on today's agenda is the recent diplomatic initiative from Aurania."

I raise my eyebrows slightly, not irritated but definitely unimpressed.

"What's new about this one?"

"They've asked Poseidonis to act as intermediaries. Which means that things have progressed to the point where they're trying to work around the embargo."

Vexing. Yes, extremely vexing. We try to minimise that sort of thing by requiring end-user authentication for any potentially dangerous products we import. But to a degree we're dependent on High King Orin being willing to allow preferential treatment for particular cities. He's well within his rights to demand that I either allow free trade or at least grant all of our neighbours the same terms. I had thought that we would have another year or so before he got frustrated enough to intervene, but perhaps I misjudged his temperament. Or perhaps Grayven's efforts on David's behalf have pushed him into premature action.

I glance at my Trade Minister.

"Are we certain?"

There wasn't much point in having an Intelligence Minister while we were isolated. There was an intelligence group attached to the guard, but they were there to detect traitors and other criminals. Since we've normalised relations there has been a significant increase in crime -mostly but not exclusively committed by recent immigrants- and a great many more people we need information on. From simple things like regional prices and demand to more… Personal information. Leaving the task of gathering intelligence on other Atlantean cities to the Ministry of Trade is a reasonable way of disguising our purposes… Though in all honesty trade intelligence is what they're focusing on. The quality of our actual foreign political and military intelligence gathering is lamentable.

"We're not certain that High King Orin has made a decision, but instructions are definitely coming from someone in the Poseidonis government."

Which is another reason to avoid centralisation that Orin has completely ignored. Having a High King who is able to act as an autocrat is essential for the good of Atlantis for the same reason that my ability to act as an autocrat within my own city is essential for Venturia. But ruling like that full time for every issue is impossible.

I consider what Grayven told me for a moment.

For anyone but Darkseid, apparently. I'm not certain that I truly understand what living in such a state would be like, but what I can imagine is frightful.

And granting crown officers that same ability in all fields? Madness. It results in little kings and queens infesting the apparatus of government, acting as they will, spreading disorder everywhere they go. And worse, they claim that they're doing it in the name of a monarch who in truth has no idea what they're doing.

Adom and I agree completely about that. The sovereign is above the law. Everyone else must abide by it, even if they claim to be on Crown business.

"Is someone going beyond their authority, or are they acting on the High King's stated desires?"

"I'm sorry, your majesty, I just don't know. Do you want me to put more effort into finding out?"

I'm certain that Grayven would be willing to discover the answer to that. Though I would not be astonished if he decided to find out by walking up to High King Orin and directly asking him. Which isn't a terrible idea, actually, if I prepare a compromise offer in advance to present to him. It would bypass whichever of his minions has an axe to grind -or who has perhaps been bought by the Auranians- which would be convenient. It would also allow me to avoid talking to anyone in the Auranian senate, loathsome worms that they are.

"No, that's alright. We would have had to deal with that eventually, anyway."

"Your majesty? Ah, do we..? Have a concrete objective in our dealings with Aurania? Do we wish for them to become economically weaker than a particular city state? Or… Lose the High King's favour in some way? I understand our historical enmity, but it would help me immensely if I had a better idea of what I was trying to achieve."

He looks nervous, but he has a point. Initially, I decreed that we would grant them only the most unfavourable terms purely out of spite. But as a result of my advanced age I've outlived everyone who had earned my ire. And Ptra..? She's not my daughter in any meaningful way, but the worst I feel for her is a mild contempt.

Probably unfair contempt. It's disappointing to see a fellow ruler be outmanoeuvred by their inferiors when they're an adult, but when it happens to a child it is really their regent who bears the blame. Either for their stupidity or their malice.

Taking her when the High Queen ordered me to leave her in Poseidonis wasn't… Wasn't a practical option, but perhaps I could have arranged for her to be 'abducted' and hidden on the surface? It seems to have worked well enough for 'Arthur Curry'.

No. It's pointless to worry about it now.

"Ultimately, we will be normalising relations with Aurania. We will have to; repairing our relationships with the other City-States requires it. I decreed this course of action in retaliation for those historic injustices we suffered as a result of the actions of the parents and grandparents of the people who rule the city today. They know why they receive far inferior terms of trade, and if they do nothing material to address those causes other than wheedle and complain then they should not expect the situation to change. With regards to the relative harm they are suffering, we will be satisfied when those individuals who benefit from their ancestors' infamy have been made to suffer material economic or political hardship."

He nods cautiously.

"But. If the High King is considering intervening, we will need a plan for changing things in the direction he requires. Preferably something which targets those individuals but allows the common citizenry to gain the benefits of trade. Have your department draft plans and present them at our next meeting."

He nods again, this time more confidently.

"In the mean time I see no benefit in meeting with a new deputation, unless they wish to confess to murdering my late husband and throw themselves upon my mercy. Next item."

"Yes, majesty." The Chancellor nods again. "The detailed oceanographic survey presented to us by Prince Grayven."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2006
09:58 GMT -5

Komand'r beams at me through my communicator.

"And don't forget to say 'hi' to everyone for me! I can't wait to see them all again when I get back!"

And an uncertain dread begins to creep into my chest where my heart used to be.

"I certainly won't, darling."

Okay, I'm in public and she knows I'm in public. If that doesn't get a response-.

She beams wider, breathing in and clutching her hands to her chest. Then she mimes pulling her heart out of her chest, kissing it and then blowing it to me.

I mime catching it and then pressing it into my own chest. And now I'm genuinely worried. Setting Vega on fire didn't magically resurrect all of the dead Tamaranean doctors, and the only people who really knew anything about their physiology were the psions. They're no longer in a position to provide me with information. I mean, it's not impossible that we missed a data store somewhere, but Red Lanterns are generally pretty thorough.

Or rather, indiscriminate.

"I'll see you this evening."

I cut the connection and accelerate towards the giant 'T' of the Titan's tower. Perhaps surprisingly given the crisis that we just went through it's still in one piece, but I don't really get 'surprised' by this sort of nonsense anymore. Goodness, how many times in the last few years has it been wrecked one week and been fully repaired by the next? I guess one of those Wayne Enterprises warehouses is filled with spare Tower sections, so they can just slot them in when the old ones are destroyed.

I suppose it keeps money in circulation.

Maybe Komand'r's possessed? Miss Roth should be able to identify that with relative ease, and then it shouldn't be hard to exorcise. And what's the chance of her encountering a Tamaranean disease in Jump City that her sister hasn't caught? No, no, it'll be fine.

I land in front of the tower's main entrance and press the button to request access. While I doubt that Mr. Logan will be awake yet, and Mr. Stone is a coin toss, the other three are probably awake. And we should be on good enough terms that they'll at least talk to me.

Mr. Grayson's face appears on the screen.

"Hello? What do you want?"

"I have some information I should probably pass on concerning recent events. And… I… May need your help with something. May I come in?"

"Sure." The doors slide open, granting me access to the tower's antechamber. "Should I call in the team?"

"That won't be necessary. If I could just speak to yourself, Miss Roth and Koriand'r?"

"I'll let them know you're here."

"Thank you."

The screen goes black and I walk inside. I've been here a few times before, and it… Doesn't look like they've remodelled too much. Same clean lines and airy spaces. Dread to think what it costs to heat it, or if it's not much why they don't share the technology.

Mr. Grayson is waiting for me in the lounge, looking completely alert.

"Red Lantern. Raven should be here in a minute."

I nod. "Thank you. Though I'll let you know that as a result of events last week I've been promoted to Senior Lantern. And… It's fine if you use my name. I think we know each other well enough."

He raises his left eyebrow.

"Do you.. have a name?"

Huh?

"Of course I have a name. Did you think I was born with a power ring?"

"No, I guess not. So what-?"

An interior door opens and Miss Roth walks in, a mug of coffee floating along behind her. Her eyes narrow slightly as she looks at me.

"How are you still alive?"

"I understand that we have you and the magic of friendship to thank for that."

"I only resurrected the people Trigon killed. You tore your own heart out of your chest and smashed it into your Lantern. I'm pretty sure you should be dead."

"Blood magic."

She nods. "How.. does that work?"

"Lord Atrocitus uses blood magic to make our rings. Mine now pushes blood around my body. I don't need a heart any more."

She frowns. "What happens if you get distracted? Your constructs usually stop working when you stop being angry."

"I don't have that problem anymore. I got in touch with my rage and hate in a… Profound way." I hold out my right hand and generate a bit construct, switching it between its two states a handful of times before dismissing it.

"Huh. So what did you wanna talk about?"

"Komand'r and I are leaving Jump City. Long term this time. I originally came here because a seer of my acquaintance claimed that you were going to destroy the world, and since that's already happened I.. don't need to be here anymore."

She narrows her eyes at me. "You were supposed to stop Trigon."

"I was supposed to kill you."

Mr. Grayson's eye holes widen. "What?"

Miss Roth's face relaxes, and she nods slowly. "That would probably have worked. Why didn't you?"

"You're a good person. I couldn't think of anything you'd willingly do that could cause an apocalypse, and I wouldn't kill you for something someone else did." I shrug. "You'd have trouble finding demon cultists in North America anymore. They seem to… Have fallen down some stairs."

She risks a small smile. "All of them?"

"They were slippery stairs. I'd have done something about Slade if I'd known what was going on there." I shrug again. "But I imagine that Trigon could have used someone else. And if I had killed you, he'd just have sired a new child somewhere else. It's probably better this way."

She nods, a degree of animation returning to her face.

"Still a risk, though."

"You're worth it."

She regards me thoughtfully. "Why are you being nice about this?"

"Mostly because I'm not having to remind myself of all the ways you and yours irritate me in order to use my ring. It's a much more relaxing way to exist."

"Because you don't have a heart."

"Komand'r finds it weirder than I do. Which… Brings me to the other reason why I'm here." I half-turn to face Richard. "Komand'r has been acting… Strangely."

Miss Roth raises her eyebrows. "What, has she started being nice to people or something?"

"Yes, and it's weird. I'm worried-." Koriand'r flies out of the elevator. "Koriand'r, do you know of a disease that makes Tamaraneans change personality radically?"

"Ah?" She raises her right forefinger to her lips. "There are several things that could do that. Does Blackfire have any other symptoms?"

"She tried to toast some bread with her plasma vision this morning and accidentally froze it instead."

Koriand'r stares at me for a second, and then her face lights up in an expression of pure joy! "Oh that is wondrous news! I will now go to bake the niffka cakes and prepare the funny hats!"

"Okay, thank you, but what does it mean in English?"

"Blackfire is pregnant!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
12:39 GMT -2

Calvin Durham is a decidedly unhappy-looking man.

"You got Black Manta a pardon, and now you want me to talk to him. Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm saying that since he's been pardoned, he can come and talk to you whenever he wants. He can't break into your house without breaking the law, and he can't attack your person or property without dying horribly, but there's legally nothing to stop him standing on the nearest public thoroughfare and waiting for you."

I bow my head slightly and rub my forehead.

"In all honesty, I thought that he wouldn't want to ever see you or Sha'lain'a again."

"But you knew he'd want to talk to Kaldur."

"Of course I knew he'd want to talk to Kaldur. Kaldur's his son. And yes-." I raise my hands to forestall his interruption. "I realise that you're the man who raised him. I've adopted several children myself. But Mister Hyde is alive and wants to be part of his son's life, something that isn't true of the natural relatives of my own children."

"Black Manta is a serial killer."

"And as his junior gunnery officer you killed how many people? Look, you benefited from the whole 'pardon' thing when you turned over a new leaf. If you're complaining about Hyde using the same law you did, one, that's pretty hypocritical, two, welcome to a monarchy."

"There's a difference in scale."

"Which is why you're not under suspended sentence of death like he is."

"I got pardoned because I risked my life to help Atlantis. He got pardoned because going after him was too much trouble!"

Ah… I nod. "Not inaccurate."

Okay, there's no point trying to play up the 'kidnapped his son' angle-.

Kidnapped his son. Kidnapped her daughter. No wonder Queen Clea gets on so well with him. Can't believe I didn't spot that one before now.

"So how exactly is it the same thing!?"

"Bluntly, because as important as your family drama is to you, it doesn't really matter to me. My interest is primarily in getting David Hyde working for me in a useful capacity. I didn't think he'd bother talking to you, but he's got his heart set on having it out with you verbally just once."

"And Kaldur?"

"He's going to try bonding with him. Which he wanted to do the moment he found out that he had a son."

"And if Kaldur tells him to get lost?"

"It's kind of hard to have father-son bonding time when one party isn't interested." Um. "Once that party is over the age of fifteen. Though, again, I'd be surprised if Kaldur has ever given you a hard time about your criminal record. In fact… If I remember correctly, he was rather proud of your service to Atlantis, so… Maybe Kaldur does tell him to get lost and that's all that happens."

"But he wants to talk to me first."

"He wants to talk to you and Sha'lain'a first. I… Got the impression that he hates her more than you. Because while you weren't the first time someone jumped ship or turned state's evidence on him, she was the first time someone did that while carrying his son."

"What the hell makes you think I'll let that happen?!"

I hold up my hands in a surrender gesture.

"I've told him I think it's a terrible idea and that it won't help his position at all, but he's been holding this in for seventeen years and I think that a single conversation is the least bad thing that could happen. I mean, isn't there anything you've wanted to say to him?"

"What, about his habit of riling up angry unemployed black men from dying cities with racist rhetoric and luring them into a life of crime?"

I nod. "Yes, that sort of thing. And maybe Sha'lain'a has something she wants to say about fully informed pre-coital consent. Or about how much and why she wants him to stay away from Kaldur. Look, he literally dies if he starts anything beyond a verbal row. This isn't going to ever exactly be fun, but.. it.. is going to happen."

"Pff." He shakes his head. "Shit. You're right, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Sorry." I shrug. "Like I said, I told him it was a bad idea."

"He wants to talk to both of us?"

"Yes."

"Together, or..?"

"Together. He's just going to be there on his own. Obviously it'll have to be somewhere where there's air. Though…" That's not a bad idea. "For efficiency, you might want to bring Kaldur along as well."

He frowns, then his face relaxes slightly as he considers the idea.

"You think that'll help?"

"I can't give unbiased advice to one party while I'm already involved with the other. But Kaldur loves you and his mother. Him being there is just about the only thing I can think of that might get Mister Hyde to rein himself in. Though… The negative side is that it might make Kaldur see that while his natural father is a violent mercenary, it might also make him see exactly how much Mister Hyde wanted to be his father from the start and remind him that I'm the first one to tell him that you weren't his natural father."

"If not for you, he could have gone his whole life not knowing."

"I didn't tell him because I wanted to make sure Mister Hyde could get a spare kidney, I told him because I think he has a right to know. It's not like Mister Hyde didn't know Kaldur was his son."

"How did he know that?"

Huh. Mr. Hyde can read and speak Atlantean Greek, but he doesn't have gills and doesn't know how to use Atlantean magic. In fact, as far as I know, none of his crew can pass as natives. I haven't really wanted to get more involved in his family drama than I absolutely have to so I haven't pressed him on the issue.

"If I had to guess, he knew roughly where the two of you lived and either sent someone or sent a drone to keep an eye on you. After he started working with Ocean Master he could easily have got one of his supporters to hang around. But that's just a guess; I only actually met the man a few months ago. Why don't you ask him?"

"You really think he'll answer me?"

"I can't think of any reason for him not to. He can't be prosecuted for any crimes committed in Atlantis prior to his pardon, so there's no reason for him to cover it up. That would sort of depend on the meeting involving adults discussing things rationally, rather than everyone screaming at each other."

He sighs.

"Fine. Where does he want to have this meet up?"

"He didn't say. Do you have a preference?"

He shrugs.

"I don't have any kind of life on the surface."

"I can lend you a meeting room in my base if you like. Or I can prevail upon him to pick somewhere sensible."

"If I'm asking Kaldur to come along, I should talk to him first."

I nod.

"I can open a portal to Mount Justice if you like. He shouldn't be busy at this time of day."

He considers for a moment, then nods.

"Yeah. I wouldn't mind seeing where Kaldur works, and I don't want to let Manta think about it."

Mother Box?

Ping.

A hush tube opens, and I gesture to it with my right hand.

"After you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
14:45 GMT

"Recognized, The Shade, Two Three."

The mild discomfort that comes from the zeta tube's illumination fades away in an instant, but long-accustomed habit causes me to mug for any potential observers. A blink, a stumble of a half-step and a tap of my cane against the deck plate as if reduced to feeling the location of the floor like a blind man.

"If it bothers you that much, why not just teleport?"

Though a sizable portion of the post-war period is a bit of a blur to me, I'm reasonably confident that I never met Blake before my induction into the League. Another recipient of Grayven's largesse, though in his case it involved less ecstatic joy and more a month-long recovery before he could speak without an Italian accent.

"I like having it announce me." I stroll towards the Justice League's round table, waving the head of my cane to Allen and getting a polite nod in return. "Acting as one's own compère is so gauche, but turning up unannounced..."

I shudder theatrically.

Though I suppose that if one is unusually bothered by gaucheness then one shouldn't take a seat amongst an ensemble dressed as circus strongmen and strongwomen. Every time I sit-

I sit.

-down in a suit I feel like I'm striking a blow for tailors everywhere.

As the other fag, Blake has the pleasure of occupying a seat next to me, which he duly does. Unlike most of our colleagues he hasn't assigned himself to any one city; I can well understand that he doesn't have any desire to return to the family manse when the entirety of said family are no longer with us. Rather, he's been working with Batman on tracking international criminal syndicates, flows of money-

And I admit I made a few rather rapid transfers myself after hearing that. Even brain damaged, he has a ferocious intellect.

- and where certain nefarious individuals who have eluded the law might be hiding themselves. He was also the one who got nominated to speak to me about my 'envelop all the evildoers in freezing blackness' approach to certain militant groups. Apparently it gives the wrong impression. I'm not.. honestly.. sure why. I knew Diana and Allen before joining the League, and I knew more about most other serving members than I do him. Not to say that he's bad company-.

Golden lights flare and golden motes of dust swirl as the other sensibly dressed League member makes an appearance. Zatara may not have the Helm of Fate since Grayven followed through on his offer of a mercy killing, but the Tower of Fate is still granting him access to its armoury and he's been taking the opportunity to 'tool up'. His jacket conceals knives that can wound anything; damn things even pinned me in place…

Alright, I could probably have gotten away if I went all out, but at levels of power I'm comfortable using around people with whom I wish to continue to interact… Pinned. A shadow attached to a solid by a knife.

His cape looks like the opera cape he used to wear save for being slightly larger. But it is in fact a protective artefact, able to ward off blows both corporeal and non. The amulet on a thong around his neck is another tool, one which I… Vaguely remember Kent Nelson using against me during my 'anti-social' period. I generally just mugged to the energy beams because the last thing I wanted was a Lord of Order deciding to try doing something that might actually affect me.

And I suppose it's faster than talking backwards.

He walks past the table and speaks briefly with Batman and Diana in hushed but urgent tones. I could eavesdrop, obviously, but I generally find that looking politely inquisitive at someone who isn't sharing is more effective and creates less ill-feeling. Something is occurring, and it's up to the doughty members of the Justice League to act in the interest of all that is good.

What fun!

And in my case to make sure that no one does anything terminally unfortunate. I used to think that keeping the mortal men and women of the League alive in a fire fight would be the difficult part. Then Diana challenged me to fight her 'using all of my power' and I observed Icon stand in place while a group of cultists shot him. It seems that people who are used to getting hurt learn how to dodge, and people who are used to being invulnerable…

Myself included. There's a reason why that knife caught me. And since I'm now a League member I'm obligated to keep myself alive as well.

Batman nods and Diana takes her seat while Zatara remains at the head of the table. Batman pulls a lever on his console and an image of… A young man in a startlingly generic super hero costume appears out of the ether. Very… Blue, with belts that look very nineties. A belt around his waist, two around his chest, and… He even has belts around his arms. It's almost a self-parody. Fortunately his feet don't appear to have been bound. From the cast of his face I deduce that he was dead when this was taken, though there's no obvious injury.

Across the table, Hawkman leans forwards.

"Why can't I see his face?"

"Magic." Zatara glances at the image. "Very powerful magic. Someone has gone to considerable effort to erase this man's identity."

That's odd. Though I've seen odder. I wasn't the Allies' only super powered operative in mainland Europe because I interact with magic in a remotely normal way.

I raise my right hand a little.

"You can't see his face?"

Zatara looks at me.

"You can?"

"Yes. I.. don't recognise him, but… Yes?"

I extend the shadow of the table we're sitting at, causing it to rise up in an approximation of the man's shape. Not quite… I lean left and right; I know that the image is in three dimensions but I'm only looking at it from one and since it doesn't create a shadow I can't get a feel for it that way, but…

Well, I was never an artist.

"Can you recognise that?"

Zatara shakes his head, then his eyes traverse the room to see if anyone else can. There don't appear to be any-.

Gardner grimaces, a glowing emerald mesh flying from his ring and surrounding my tenebrous construct. I have to make a little effort to hold it solid against a glowing object, a little more of the Shadowlands extruding into the World of Light. But it doesn't hurt and -if I'm honest- isn't even uncomfortable. It's more… A pressure. Distracting but… Ultimately not an issue.

At this level. I remember a time when Alan Scott shot a full intensity ray through a patch of shadow and took off my left forearm. I hadn't even known that was possible!

The new chaps are fine, I suppose. But you never forget your first Lantern.

"I'm gettin' nuthin'." Gardner allows his construct to fade away. "Someone else wanna try?"

Free holds out one of those marvellous toys of his, which twinkles prettily for a moment before fading. He shakes his head.

I smile pleasantly.

"Well, don't I feel special. How about…"

I allow most of the body to fade away, leaving just the upper portion of the head and a certain amount of shadowy skeleton as a support structure. I look around the table but I get the bad news when Marvel shakes his head.

Most inconvenient.

I wave what's left away.

"I assume that I'll be assisting Zatara with this one, then. What do we know of the corpus?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
09:56 GMT -5

Artemis hangs back slightly as Kaldur and Ixy conduct a tour of the facility.

"When are you gunna tell him?"

The drawback to being on the same wavelength as someone-.

"It's not a drawback. Ass."

I look down at her, slightly puzzled. Did-? She just-?

She rolls her eyes before looking up at me. "It's obvious. You got Black Manta pardoned. I know how people like him think. The first thing he's going to want to do is get his son back, and right after that-." Her eyes return to Mr. Durham. "I guess he can't kill the people he thinks wronged him, but he's gunna want to confront them."

"He does indeed. I haven't said anything because I don't want Mister Durham to feel like I'm pressuring him."

"Think that ship's sailed. I think you're just doing what you think-."

"Think I need to so I can tell myself I didn't pressure him." I smile fondly at her. "We can't ever do this around Luna."

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Staying above the fray wasn't an option. David Hyde has wanted to be Kaldur's father since he fathered him."

"Some people shouldn't be fathers."

True, but I can't say he'd be objectively bad. Any number of professional killers throughout history have had perfectly pleasant relationships with their offspring.

"How's Paula?"

"How's Jade?"

I shrug. "Her line manager's reports are glowing. The area she's assigned to is less dangerous month on month, in part due to her presence and actions. Genomorphs are good at keeping the peace but complex investigations aren't their forte."

"You aren't talking to her in person?"

"No. I'm not angry any more-"

"Well, yeah."

"-but.. I.. tend to think that we won't work… Well together. I mean, if we couldn't even communicate well.. enough… When we were together…"

Artemis nods. "I think she's dating someone."

I shrug. "That's hardly my affair any longer."

"Not Jade. My Mom."

"Oh? Not a complete surprise, I hope?"

"No. Why exactly did you make her look that young when you healed her?"

"Your mum's hot."

She smiles faintly.

"Speaking of things you shouldn't say around Luna…"

"Eh, Luna knows that I'm not interested in her for her physical appearance. And I've got a rough idea of what she'll look like when she comes through the mirror and I think I'll like it well enough. Do you have a problem with your mum dating?"

"Dating, no. Putting on a costume and fighting crime… Guess-"

"It beats committing it." / "-it beats… Yeah."

Bit of a surprise that she's interested in that sort of thing, but I suppose that when someone internalises the us versus them mindset then even if they switch sides they want to be them as hard as they can.

"Do you want me to offer her a job to keep her off the streets? I'm sure I can find something for a woman of her experience."

"Not going to offer to help find out who she's-." She narrows her eyes. "Do you know?"

"Artemis, you're over a hundred years old. If you want to know who your mother's dating-."

"Yeah, but-. Teenaged me wouldn't."

"Parents have to deal with their children growing up eventually. In your case-."

"I grew up when Mom was in prison. I know we were never going to have a normal family life or anything like that, but I wanna… Pretend a bit. For her. And for me."

"I'm the last person who would-."

Kaldur tenses, then breathes in deeply before letting his exhalation carry away his tension. Mr. Durham glances my way and says something I make an effort not to listen to, placing his right hand on his son's right shoulder. Kaldur nods and briefly puts his own right hand on top of his father's. Then he heads my way.

"Who would gainsay your decision on that subject. Kaldur!"

He walks towards me, his normal impassivity just about hanging in there.

"Grayven. What made you think that I would be interested in meeting Black Manta in a social setting?"

"The fact that I thought you'd probably be willing to put up with him once to help out your parents?" I shrug. "I don't think there's going to be any sort of meeting of minds or anything like that. I've already told him that I think it's a bad idea."

"You could simply have handed him over to Atlantis as a captured criminal."

"Kaldur, where exactly on Earth do you think I'm going to find crews for the EDF ships Lex is building?"

He pauses for a moment. "Any of the world's militaries would be able to provide you with trained personnel."

I shake my head. "Not trained for space combat. Underwater combat comes closest, but the pressure and inertia make it completely different. Same for aeroplanes and voidcraft. The skill sets aren't easily transferable. So we've got a choice between taking military people and beating the bad habits out of them or training new people in doctrines we haven't invented yet. If you ever want a good laugh I'll show you the low gravity training sessions we ran for some of N.A.T.O.'s special forces units. The skills aren't there."

"Except in Atlantis."

"Nope. Too much magic, not enough technology, and your war engines are all organic. David Hyde's people are trained for sub-aquatic, aquatic and aerial combat. They have the skills that other people simply don't. Earth needs them, and King Orin wouldn't have pardoned him if he didn't agree with me. And your part in Earth getting them involves letting him bitterly lament not being the man who raised you and then telling him to never darken your door again. I'm sure you'll survive. Though for what it's worth I'm sorry for putting you in this position."

Kaldur bows his head, half-closing his eyes for a moment.

"He has not been pardoned by the government of the United States of America."

"My home's an Apokoliptian embassy. So while no one other than me can arrest him, I could let you settle your differences through bare-knuckle boxing."

He-.

"That wasn't a serious suggestion, Kaldur."

If only because Apokoliptian duels are supposed to be handicapped affairs. Given Kaldur's enhanced physiology I'd have to give his father a weapon or two.

"Very well. I will accept the meeting. But… I would like more information on Luthor's recruitment strategy."

I nod. "No problem. Heck, if you can find-"

"Recognized, Zatara, one one, The Shade, two three."

We turn as the League members emerge, Giovanni giving me a nod and Richard tipping his hat.

"-someone better, I'll consider them."

Giovanni approaches, noting Mr. Durham's presence.

"Aqualad. I have a task for the team."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
07:12 GMT -8

I find myself pulling a face as I dock with the aesthetian and feel the slight pull as it connects with my ingestion hole. Perhaps I will be accustomed to it in time. Or perhaps I am too accustomed to my physical freedom to ever really get accustomed to something like this. Still, it is progress, and it is more… Respectful, than being thrown into a bucket of partially digested fish heads. Relaxing my face, I reach out with my mind for the neural interface made with the new types of synthetic flesh which are compatible with Un-Men…

**[Connect]**

At once the next texture and flavour of the air change as neural mechanisms which the-. That Anton Arcane considered superfluous to my design, connect to my brain. My innate capacity for the chemical analysis of air is usually limited to 'breathable', 'contains blood' and 'not breathable', but with a little help…

My brain can learn to do things that it was not designed to do.

With the connection in place the aesthetian… Since this is the final version I need to think of a name for it. It would not do to appear to be treating an Un-Man as an object after all, even if this is no more intelligent than a chipmunk. 'Bud' as in 'taste bud'? No, no, that makes it sound like a flower. Gus Tatory? Satisfactory, but I will check with Niko before I make it official. When you are a grotesque, your humour is grotesque. It does not always play well to others.

I tested it with crackers while I was experimenting with the design, but Grayven suggested I try toast for the first 'proper' meal. And suggested that the taste might kill me and then laughed about it. Niko suggested chocolate, but despite the safety mechanisms it might be better to be cautious. While not being so afraid of my own creation that I simply go along with Grayven's joke.

Gus's tentacles reach out and coat the first slice of toast in a very thin layer of butter, then cut it in half. The first half is delivered into the 'taste' receptacle directly, while the second is held up to my own mouth. It is a-.

I shudder as the feedback from Gus's taste nerves begins to reach me, unfamiliar.. feelings… I have known lipids since my first moment, but I feel that I have never known them at all until this moment. Butter! All of the animal instincts I have never had are delighted to be putting away fat for winter! The toast itself is a more complex sensation, but… Let us try texture!

I command the tentacle to bring the mouth half closer and bite. I have only basic sensation inside of my mouth, but I do have teeth and I do get pressure feedback to a surprisingly generous degree. I suspect that is because Arcane wanted me to know when I bit something rather than any sort of consideration for me, but between that and the taste… I will check with a computerized axial tomography scan later, but I think I am effectively receiving the sensation of eating toast as an unmodified man would.

Splendid!

Of course, the downside since I don't actually have an oesophagus…

I open my mouth a little wider, wadding as much of the chewed bread material into the front of my mouth as I can. A tentacle reaches down and scoops it up to deposit in the taste receptacle, where a moment later it gives a sudden jolt as the masticated food decays faster than the solid piece and gives the taste buds a more intense rush of chemicals.

My word.

There's a quiet knock on the door.

"Cranius? Are you..? Ah, decent?"

"Niko! Eh." I have the tentacle holding the toast to my mouth swiftly redirect it to the taste receptacle. Much as she is willing to embrace the strangeness that is a part of our nature I think that her stomach would still be turned by my chewing. "I am as decent as I am likely to get!"

She pushes her way into my workshop, computer tablet in hand. I am still not entirely comfortable with machines that can pretend to think, but I can appreciate the utility. She looks closely at Gus as she walks closer, then raises her eyebrows.

"How is it?"

"I have nozhing wizh which I could compare it. It is intense and it is novel, which is the most I could hope for. I… Zhink zhat tomorrow I will experiment with zhings ozher zhan toast."

"Chocolate?"

"Eh-h. I zhink baby steps for now."

Of course, I still have to actually ingest. It feels like the digestion process is ready, so I trigger the egestion system, and… I feel the same as usual. Perhaps a little tidier due to the fact that I now have a dedicated mechanism for fulfilling the purpose.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes?"

"You looked a little… Constipated, there."

"My dear, I don't have a bowel. Or a gut."

But I make an effort to control my expression. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

"I guess that's a novel experience for you too, then."

I close my pseudo sphincter and disconnect, rising up on my fingertips.

"Let us not go crazy."

I disconnect my mind from Gus, who folds up back into 'sleep' mode to minimise energy wastage until I need to eat again. Perhaps some fruit? I used the brain of a monkey as my guide when I designed his brain, so that should work well. Next, I call Otto over and have him pick me up and set me down between his shoulders.

"Who is on zhe slab today?"

"A seven year old boy named Klahan Saelim. He has terminal leukaemia."

Oh? Oh. A publicity job, then. Otto sighs for me as-.

"His parents have signed off on you giving him… Slightly visible improvements."

Ah… That's a little better. No, wait.

"Like tiger-stripe hair, or somezhing useful or significant?"

She taps her tablet. "They.. haven't specified. So there aren't any restrictions. Just remember-."

"Yes, yes. Nothing to scare zhe person doing zhe post-procedure interviews. I'm zhinking… Squid eyes, obviously, wizh the expanded visual range."

"Ah, if he can't navigate-."

"Yah yah, slightly expanded. I'm not going to make him see gamma radiation."

I learned that lesson after the third time. I thought it was pretty!

Niko looks like she doesn't completely believe me.

"Okay, I don't think there'll be any problem with getting them to accept perfect eyesight. Do you want to throw anything else in there?"

Yes. I want to give him dragon wings and scale-covered skin capable of resisting low calibre bullets and the ability to spit napalm. Don't 7 year old boys like dragons?

Ah, the dreams of a better tomorrow. I honestly had believed that the American military would be more enthusiastic about modifications that have combat applications, but it seems that if they do not allow the soldier to tear through sheet metal they have nearly as many reservations as the FDA.

The Department of Energy doesn't have that problem. Their agents are daring each other to be the first to get the electric eel discharge system.

"I zhink… I will see where the muse takes me. Wizhin bounds."

"Okay. After that, Crassus wants to talk to you about his synthetic skin project."

"He is still working well wizh zhe laboratory staff?"

"Ah… Yes, no recent report of any problems."

I smile.

"And after that-. Oh. We've got a booking for an emergency consultation. They… Haven't explained the nature of the problem, but they've only asked for two hours."

Ah, such is life. They will have paid well for the privilege, and perhaps they have dreams of something original?

A disembodied head can dream, can't he?

"Okay. Let us go and see zhe young man."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2006
11:28 GMT -5

Mr. Logan shakes his head in bewilderment.

"But, I mean, how does that even happen?"

I stop walking. The other Titans also stop walking, except Koriand'r who keeps flying for a few moments before realising that she's left everyone else behind.

"In Europe, we joke about American sex education, but I always-"

He's blushing purple.

"-assumed that it was just a j-."

"No! I know how it works. My parents were naturalists. But you're different species!"

I gesture to Miss Roth with both hands.

"This is Raven." I generate a construct image of her mother. "This is Angela Roth, her mother. The hundred metre-tall four-eyed demon we all saw last week was her father. How did you think that worked?"

"I dunno." He blinks, his gaze growing distant and his head tilting to the left. "And honestly? I kinda wish I wasn't trying to picture it right now."

Miss Roth squeezes her eyes shut. "Magic. It was magic."

"I dunno." Mr. Stone shrugs. "Ah mean, he could change his size-."

Miss Roth opens her eyes just enough to glare at him. "It. Was. Magic."

Koriand'r frowns, looking genuinely concerned.

"Friends, do you not understand the mechanisms of sexual intercourse?"

"Ah…"

"On Tamaran we are far more open about such things. I can explain the functions of men and women in great detail if you would like?"

I dismiss the construct and walk up the front steps of the manor house Komand'r and I recently purchased. We won't be moving in properly for a while due to all of the work needed to get it up to super vigilante specifications, but she wanted-.

She's in nesting mode. Do Tamaraneans do that?

I reach into my right front pocket to pull out my key, but the door bursts open and Komand'r flies out, hitting me in the chest and lifting me off the ground into the sky as she embraces me!

"Isn't it wonderful! I sat outside this morning and it was like there was no one else on the entire planet!"

Out of the corner of my eye I see Mr. Stone look confusedly between Koriand'r and Komand'r, then blink, then stare at Mr. Grayson with his eyebrows raised. It takes Mr. Grayson a moment to spot where Mr. Stone's gaze has ended up, but his frantic head-shaking does put a smile on my face.

I pull Komand'r close and kiss her, for a moment wishing that my ring was of any use for anything medical. I mean, I vaguely remember from the comics that Nightstar was perfectly healthy, but I haven't bothered making the sorts of contacts I'd need to cope with medical problems. Komand'r isn't vulnerable to human diseases and is very hard to hurt. The few time's she's been injured she's either ignored it or stuck a bandage over the cut for a few days.

"Komand'r, I've found-."

"Sister!"

Komand'r flies into Koriand'r, embracing her warmly. Koriand'r doesn't appear even slightly put off by that, even though their relationship since Komand'r arrived on Earth two and a half years ago might charitably be described as 'tense'.

…

Komand'r is the woman I love, but even inside my head 'one-sided bitchathon' feels more honest. She never got to the stage of siccing alien bounty hunters on her again, but I don't think she's spoken a civil word to her in the entire time.

"I am so happy to see you!"

"I am so happy to see you!"

Miss Roth sighs quietly. "Now there's two of them. Great."

"I have a tiny hat for you!"

Koriand'r reaches up and puts a top hat about the size of an egg cup on Komand'r's head. Komand'r goes cross eyed trying to see it, then reaches up with both hands to feel it instead.

She gasps.

"I love it! But-. Wait. This is-."

Koriand'r nods, grins, and offers Komand'r a… Small cake dripping with green… Something or other.

A bumble bee flies close to it, folds up and crashes to the ground in a fairly typical Earth reaction to Tamaranean food.

Komand'r blinks, turns her head away and then fires a blast from her eyes which freezes a small bush in an ice crystal.

She turns my way.

"How did this happen?!"

21st October 2005
10:23 GMT -5

"Why do you always put those things on?"

I frown inquisitively, and she rolls her eyes.

"Do you really think that because we're both humanoid you can get me pregnant? Because that's not how biology works."

"In medieval France there was a male religious order that got a group of female elementals pregnant. A being made of air and magic gave birth to a child. So yes, I think there's definitely a possibility."

She rolls her eyes harder.

"Even if that was true, that's magic and your ring just does blood." She pulls the packet out of my hand and tosses it aside. "So don't bother. I want to feel you finish this time."

"If… If you're sure..?"

21st January 2006
11:31 GMT -5

"Yes, but I didn't think you were serious!"

"Um. I was."

Komand'r looks… Shocked and a little scared.

"Ah..?"

I float closer and put my hands on her shoulders.

"Komand'r, I love you. We are financially secure and have no living enemies. This is as good a time as any."

And just like that the moment of hesitation never happened.

"Okay. We're having a kid." Her right hand darts out, grabs the cake Koriand'r offered her and shoves it into her mouth. "Wph aw?"

"Does X'Hal do weddings?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
10:34 GMT -6

"…contracts in place." I nod as on the other side of the screen Prime Minister Geoffrey Talbot continues reading through his summary. "We'd put it out to tender… But LexCorp doesn't have significant competition in the field, does it?"

I nod. "He isn't stopping other market participants competing. And the patents are publically available information."

"Oh, I'm not complaining. I used to be against 'green power'. I didn't think it was economically viable. Now that it is, my government will be making moves to switch over all of our infrastructure as quickly as possible."

I glance down at my copy of the report.

"I'm just astonished that the situation was allowed to get this bad. How hard is it to build a new power plant?"

He smiles wryly.

"About as hard as building a new airport runway. The greenies don't want anything that causes pollution and the conservatives don't want anything inefficient. It was always easier to put it off than take the hit to their popularity."

"Was it related to..?"

"No, nothing to do with those people as far as I can tell. Just normal political cowardice and malfeasance. Until we started getting brown outs no one was going to do anything."

"People would rather vote for a sweet shop owner than a doctor."

"All too true." He shakes his head. "I can still barely credit the fact that Boris wasn't involved."

"Would you invite him into a secret conspiracy?" He huffs and shakes his head. "What's he doing with himself now?"

"He got elected head of the Conservative and Unionist Party. Mostly by virtue of being the only Conservative left standing that anyone had heard of."

"He didn't jump ship? I'd have thought that the Reform Party would be right up his street."

"He said he thought about it, but decided that someone needed to work as the official Opposition."

"Was that before or after someone pointed out that he'd have to quit being mayor to become an MP?"

"Oh, he's not in Parliament. Technically speaking, the Conservative and Unionist Party is a new political party, and their rules don't demand that the party leader be a sitting MP."

"I suppose that -given how many MPs they're likely to have to the foreseeable future- that makes sense."

"Makes debating with the man a bit awkward. And it means that the senior opposition MP in Parliament is my constituency MP. I can debate with him by banging on the wall."

I smile at him.

"Sounds like a stitch-up to me-. Oh, that reminds me: Myand'r told me that Weaponer Lysis wants to give you a check up. Will there be a problem with her visiting?"

He gives me a mild frown.

"Wouldn't it be easier for me to go to her?"

"She wants to see you in your natural environment."

He chuckles darkly.

"I don't consider Number Ten to be my natural environment."

"You might want to start, because you could be there a while."

We expected for the left-leaning part of his coalition to drift away after the first General Election. But with the far left part going full socialist and joining the Socialist Labour Party, a surprisingly large portion of everyone else appears to have decided to remain with Reform for the time being because there isn't anywhere obvious for them to go to. So while Geoff is staying away from strongly partisan issues, he's using the surprising unity that his party still commands to deal with issues which -while divisive- don't divide along party lines.

I think he's trying to leave the country a better place for his having occupied the office by the time he renders himself unelectable. I also think he's underestimated the appeal of having a conspiracy-busting retired police officer who definitely wins the 'my head of government could beat up your head of government' arguments in power.

"Anything else we need to go over?"

"The EU's finally getting its head out of its arse about Kahndaq. Which means that Teth Adom can nominate a UN ambassador."

"Oh?"

Given that Adom firmly believes that a country should focus its efforts on its internal affairs, he's been completely untroubled by the fact that other countries are hostile to his one-man conquest of his home country. Banks don't want to lend him money? Fine. Why would he want to borrow money? Imports and exports are expensive? Fine. That just encourages local farming and industry. His reaction to other countries not liking him was '"And?"'. I sometimes get the feeling that Adom would be happiest if the rest of the world just sort of disappeared.

"France won't veto it, and the General Assembly won't try and block the appointment."

"I'll let him know. Any chance they'll help with repatriation?"

The government he slaughtered like the rabid dogs they used to be were heavily involved in slave trading. His government has tried sending as many people as possible back to their home countries, but there are a lot of unaccompanied or orphaned children and with Kahndaq currently uncountried various agencies who should be helping out aren't.

"That's a bit more dubious. Given how poor most of their countries of origin are, you're probably better off getting Luthor on the job. Have him have a word with their business development people."

A pleasant side effect of our work in Africa is that the 'supply' side of certain industries has dried up. There's enough honest work that for the first time in decades people aren't being driven to try to migrate to Europe for work. And that means that people traffickers and slavers are going out of business even if they manage to dodge the genomorphs.

"I'll give him a nudge. Nothing else pertinent to report on my end."

He nods.

"Right then. I'll see you at the next meeting."

"Prime Minister."

"Don't bloody remind me."

He presses a button, and the screen goes dead. I check the clock. Hm. Yes, she's probably back by now.

I get out of my chair.

Mother Box, hush tube to Sunset's laboratory.

Ping.

I step through to see Sunset working on her arcane modelling program. She glances around.

"Hey."

Looks promising.

"How'd it go with Celestia?"

She looks back around.

"It was… Informative? It was exactly the sort of lesson that if she'd given it to me before I left then I wouldn't have left. We didn't really… We just focused on the lesson. We didn't talk about anything else."

"But you managed to spend productive time in one another's company?"

"Yeah. I guess that's progress. Grayven, did you-" She swivels her chair around. "-suggest that to her?"

"Yes, of course I did. But she managed to carry it out without making a mess of it."

"By that low standard, good for her." She frowns. "But I thought you didn't want me to talk to her any more."

"I don't think things between you can be fixed, but on the off chance I'm wrong I'm happy to coach her on how to relate to you. I don't think she's a bad person, I just don't think you're right for each other." … "So to speak."

"Well… Thanks."

"And in the strategic review I highlighted the lack of other ponies to take over the day/night cycle as a key weakness, so getting you up to speed is good for the planet."

She looks unimpressed for a moment, but I see the rational side of her that I've tried to cultivate review the idea and realise that it's valid.

"Well. Still. Thanks."

I smile broadly. "You're welcome."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
16:38 GMT

I cut the connection to Grayven's mountain and sit back in my chair. Hard-etched instinct causes me to scan my office for threats, but there's no one here. Prime Ministers don't get a lot of time to themselves, but I generally chivvy people out for this sort of secure telephone call. Grayven's got an impressive network of contacts, but I rather imagine that he'd rather it didn't come to wider public attention.

MI5 is another matter. The secret squirrels we didn't get rid of are going out of their way to make themselves useful. Damn close thing between keeping them on and firing the whole lot of them and building a new intelligence service from scratch. But I don't like punishing people who didn't personally commit the crime, no matter what the back of my head's saying about guilt by association. That's not how Joint Enterprise works.

I don't feel bad about using the intelligence service to obtain information on him. I might have done, before Joanie. Now it's just clearly necessary. Anyone in power needs someone watching 'em, and I can't do that personally all of the time.

My desk phone rings and I pick it up. Back to the grind.

"Talbot."

"Prime Minister, you have a call from a Mister.. 'Doom'?" Ernest, my secretary. My actual secretary, as opposed to the civil service mandarins. "He's on the priority approved list, but-."

"Yes, yes, I know the man. He's a wizard. Put him through."

"Yes sir."

Good man, Ernest. Grandparents on both sides came over on the Windrush and put up with the terrible reception to make a life for themselves, he graduated with a First in Business Administration from LSE. And rather than go into industry with it he decided he'd rather work for the government. People like him are why I didn't just burn Downing Street down and piss on the ashes.

"Prime Minister."

"Mister Doom. Any trouble?"

"Perhaps. Several of my worldwide wards have been tripped."

"World wide?"

"That's not as significant as it sounds. The Earth's thaumosphere forms a natural boundary. Setting a spell to notify the caster when something crosses a boundary is a simple business. Setting them to notify the caster when something occurs within the boundary is only a little more taxing."

"Alright. What triggered it?"

"After a number of… Incidents in the recent past, I set a ward which would inform me if a locus of significant power suddenly became active. Loci.. in this instance referring to either an artefact or individual which had previously been inert. An artefact which could grant an individual tremendous power, an eldritch abomination breaking into the world or an ancient magician who had been hibernating."

"Is that common?"

"Common? No. Twice a decade, perhaps. We still don't know where Dracula is."

"Alright. Which is it?"

"I don't know. As I said, the ward simply alerts me to an event. I've been trying to scry the location of whatever it was for several hours, but I haven't been able to locate it. That implies either an object designed to conceal itself and its user, or a magician of considerable skill and finesse."

"The Justice League hasn't sent out an alert."

"Giovanni Zatara's skills are dissimilar to mine. He hasn't ever had to learn subtlety in the way that a jumped up street magician like myself has had to. And to be honest, 'something is happening, somewhere, probably' isn't much to go on. It might not even be a problem."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Not for a second. I'm going to keep looking, but you may wish to pass my alert on to them."

"Thank you. I will. Let me know if you make any progress."

"I will. Thank you, Prime Minister."

I put the phone down. Blast. Grayven didn't say anything, and he's usually fairly good about letting me know when something catastrophic is happening. Or when there's an advantage to be gained. Which means that he isn't aware of it.

I dial Jasmine's number. With a fairly limited number of experienced parliamentarians to draw on, the top government jobs more or less assigned themselves. She got the Home Office, which means that if things were running normally Doom would be phoning her. But they're not, and I haven't forgotten that she knew how bad things were and didn't try to raise the alarm until we forced her hand.

I don't think that life imprisonment without the possibility of parole is an appropriate punishment for moral weakness. But I'll be more content if she joins Boris once some of the new intake have a little experience under their belt.

"Prime Minister?"

"Cursitor Doom just contacted me." A light appears on my desk and I press the button that lets my entourage know that they can't come in just yet. "Apparently, something big and magical just activated and is now hiding itself. Please pass that along to the Justice League."

"Does he have any more details?"

"No, but he's going to keep looking."

"I'll have my department send out the alerts."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

I put the phone down, and then I dial Professor Larissa. It's nine in the morning over there so she should be awake but classes shouldn't have started just yet. Grayven gave me her number as an expert magic consultant, and I suspect that she has a little more oomph than Doom does. With that Sunset girl of his, he simply wouldn't trouble himself with her otherwise.

"Hello?"

"Professor Larissa? This-"

"Yes?"

"-is Prime Minister Geoffrey Talbot."

"Ah, of course. I'm afraid that I have a ring-back system for world leaders."

"Quite sensible. Speak to you in a moment, then."

I put the phone down, and a moment later it rings again.

"Mister Prime Minister. How can I be of service?"

"The British government's chief magician just gave us a vague premonition of doom. Supposedly, something magically powerful recently became active and is now hiding itself. Our capacity for magic investigation is somewhat limited, and Mister Grayven suggested that I contact you."

"Did he say how powerful?"

"A twice-a-decade event."

"Hm. I haven't noticed anything, but I'll look into it and get back to you."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Mister Prime Minister."

I put the phone down, then press the button to summon my staff. I've still got a legacy to obliterate.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
11:54 GMT -5

"Okay, but could it be better?"

Kaldur looks at me impassively.

"While I doubt that the design of the water bearer is 'perfect', I do not think that redesigning my equipment is what you are supposed to work on while on medical leave."

"I'm not on.. medical leave. They just want me to avoid…" Okay, it… Would be an arcane influence. Sort of. I couldn't work with the magic part and that's where the potential interference would come from.

I bow my head, nodding.

"Okay."

He smiles faintly, patting me on my left shoulder.

"Do not look so troubled. Surely there are things that you do that do not involve magic?"

Cadbury's is running well, making a profit quarter on quarter and expanding their operations while taking into account differences in regional tastes. Americans just really like gone off milk in their chocolate, and… Capitalism. It's their money. You can lead a horse to good chocolate but you can't make it eat-.

Don't ever feed a horse chocolate.

"Yes… But they're all work things. I… Rather made this whole thing my life."

Computer game development is coming along. Provisionally named 'Vega', they're working on both the engine and the storylines. I don't know how long that sort of thing usually takes, but the progress reports sound relatively positive. I thought about asking Oliver to be my man on the board there as well, but decided against it. While Cadbury's is supposed to be a commercial company, the game is more about having a mass market study into popular morality and ethics. For me, anyway. I'm not gambling with money I can't afford to lose, and… Frankly, the people involved all seem well motivated enough that I'm not worrying about it.

He nods. "I understand that all too well."

Which leaves me at a loose end.

"I mean, Orange Lantern, so-."

"If you did not make it your life, you would not be able to do it so well."

"Obligation only takes me so far."

"During a campaign, it can be difficult for a soldier to take time to themselves."

"I think the problem's more the other way around. I can raise my hand-" I tap my right forefinger and middle finger against my forehead. "-and reappear almost anywhere. But studies on combat fatigue show that that's not actually a good idea." I shrug. "People work better when they're given time to decompress before getting back to normal life. And it was…"

I look around the mountain's living area.

"This, or gardening with Alan. And I've never really liked gardening, and we're both 'out', which… Can make things a little awkward. So…" I smile awkwardly. "What have you been up to?"

"On M'gann's advice I have began attending a local dance class."

…

"Oh?"

"For obvious reasons, dances in Atlantis are very different to how they are performed on dry land."

"I can imagine. What..? What sort of dancing?"

"Recently, we have been learning the tango."

"Huh."

"Does it surprise you that it would interest me?"

I shrug.

"You haven't mentioned it before, but… It's good to have a hobby, I suppose? You..? Enjoying it?"

He smiles faintly. "I am. Despite Canis's attempts to persuade me otherwise, I seldom use my abilities for anything other than combat."

"I thought Atlanteans were just stronger and tougher than baseline humans. I didn't think you were more agile as well."

"We are not, but living under water forces us to perceive our environment in three dimensions. I have noticed that as a result my spatial awareness tends to be better than that of most surface dwellers."

"Makes… Sense. And that translates into dancing?"

"Not perfectly. I am unlikely to tread upon my partner's toes, but the patterns of movement do not necessarily come naturally."

"Made any new friends?"

"Yes, and they are not people whom I would otherwise have met. Conner said that it would be wise to expand my social circle to include 'regular people'."

"Superheroes are supposed to defend society. I imagine unending duty would get a bit frustrating if we didn't have any emotional investment in the people we were fighting for."

"I doubt that the people I meet will ever be imperilled. Happy Harbour has an exceedingly low crime rate."

It's true. Even the Sheeda didn't really bother to attack it during their incursion, probably due to a combination of quick Justice League response time and low population. What crime there is, is usually petty hooliganism and not the sort of thing where superheroic intervention would really help. Community policing is the order of the day there.

"They're imperilled by attacks on the Earth as a whole. And you can imagine that they're similar to the people you see in other places."

"Is that what you do?"

"No. Empathic vision. Unless they're blocking it somehow I can see the individuality of everyone around me, everything they want to achieve with their lives. But unless you've been working on your parapsychic abilities-"

He shakes his head.

"-you don't have that."

"In Atlantis, parapsychics are rare. The strain it places on the mind of the user means that few are prepared to undertake the training. I am not among them."

If anything he's underselling it. On the surface, parapsychics with no training generally get to the point where they're forced to live as hermits; the sheer intensity of the images they get from everything overwhelming them. In Atlantis they get proper training, but all that means is that they hit the 'limit' earlier. Their ability to dampen the visions is only slightly better than ours.

"Perfectly sensible, but you see how it's a different problem."

"Parapsychics usually have trouble using violence. I have not noticed that being a problem for you."

"Oh, no. When I see someone's desires, when I see for sure what they want… I can tell for certain that they need to die. It sounds callous, but if you saw what I see…"

I shake my head and look away, towards the 'entertainment centre'.

"That got morbid. Are you up for some cooperative Sonic the Hedgehog?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
20:52 GMT

I step through the open blast door and into one of the offices on the increasingly misnamed 'dark side' of the moon.

"Lex said that you wanted to speak to me?"

Other Lex nods distractedly as he continues to pore over intelligence reports collected by hush tube from many unsuspecting interstellar civilisations.

"I've already told your Lex, but I've concluded that your attempts at uplift are… Passable."

"Be still my beating heart."

"I've outlined a few areas for improvement-."

"Please tell me you didn't say that to Lex."

He sits up slightly and gives me a marginally larger portion of his attention.

"Why ever not?"

"Because as much as he's doing better these days, we've still got a considerable distance to go before he'll be capable of responding rationally to criticism like that."

I generate a construct chair and sit down.

"And speaking of that-."

"I became aware of my own irrationality a few months ago. I was exposed to a variant of phobaline hydrochorate twice in my life, but only found out about it relatively recently."

I frown. "Fear toxin? The effects of short term exposure end… At most after a month. Unless the dosage was… Near-lethal-."

"A variant, designed to cause long term paranoid tendencies."

Lantern Grayven, that could be a useful addition to your arsenal.

"Right. Excuse me a moment, my ring's talking to me."

"Concerning what?"

I raise my right hand and create a construct of Sinestro, mentally granting my AI full control of it. Other Lex looks at the man, clearly recognising him.

"Sinestro."

"Technically, an AI based on Sinestro 50's memories and intuitions. He had it imprinted on his ring so that in the event of his death it would seek out someone who could continue his work. I've been calling it 'Sinestro', but that Sinestro was killed years ago."

"Sinestro, what was your creator's aim?"

"I was programmed to aid in the establishment of an orderly civilisation through fear; fear of my wearer personally and fear of retribution generally. However, reviewing my database makes it fairly clear that despite how he programmed me, Thaal Sinestro himself valued revenge against the Green Lantern Corps above society-building."

Other Lex nods.

"I assume that you've met your Sinestro?"

He exhales sharply through his nose and raises his right hand, showing his ring.

"When I left, our Sinestro was the Field Commander of the Gold Lantern Corps. The Guardians…" His expression darkens slightly. "Our Guardians were mostly interested in increasing their power, prestige and control. They struck out at civilizations that threatened their hegemony, using Earth as the storage site for potentially useful individuals. Here… Mars is still alive, and every piece of information I've been able to gather shows no sign that they were the hidden hand behind other extermination events."

"Those reports aren't necessarily conclusive. They're mostly what other people think, not necessarily hard facts."

"I've been checking. Your Guardians are down to handfuls of individuals, and their influence covers a far smaller area. The Guardians of my home universe couldn't tolerate that."

"Did they use the Corpse, or modified Manhunters?"

"Manhunters. Your Guardians used them as guards for secure sites and personal 'avatars' when their Lanterns require their support. I haven't been able to find a single infiltrator, and I've been looking hard."

"That's a bit of a relief."

"Our Sinestro turned on the Guardians because they performed biological experiments upon his species." He looks at the construct. "What was your creator's motive?"

"He took over his homeworld and created what he considered to be a perfectly orderly society. Since that was a clear abuse of his ring's power, the Guardians banished him to the anti-matter universe. Unfortunately for them, the experience neither killed him nor convinced him that he was in the wrong."

I nod. "Something similar happened here, except that as far as I can tell he had a far better justification for his putsch. He still has supporters today."

"With whom you stubbornly refuse to make contact. Even if you insist on building your support base in Vega or on Earth, an educated and loyal population could make themselves indispensable."

"Loyal to Sinestro, who I'll remind you is still out there somewhere."

Other Lex gives me a mild frown.

"You're ignoring him?"

"I see no profit in confronting him. I'm not wearing a green ring, and I'm not doing anything he'd disapprove of. Given the skills that he's demonstrated to date, engaging with him in any way would probably result in us trying to kill each other. I don't need another yellow ring at all, and I'm certainly not going to risk either my life or my existing plans to get one."

Other Lex nods approvingly. "Commendably rational. But do you think he will be willing to ignore you?"

"He has so far."

"His concern is justified. You are correct that Sinestro has no reason to target you, but given his existing antipathy to Earth's Green Lanterns it's hardly unthinkable that he might return to Earth at some point. If he does, he will investigate a second yellow ring."

I shake my head.

"That's true of any number of interested parties. I'm not going to write up a huge list of everyone in the universe who might decide to take an interest and try to make plans for all of them. That way lies madness."

Other Lex isn't looking at me.

Heh.

"Though I could-."

Sinestro's head jerks slightly.

"Lantern, I'm receiving an emergency request-." YOUR REALM IS UNDER ATTACK.

I come to my feet, dismissing the construct as I do so.

"Mother Box, boom tube!" "I Defend My People!"

BOOM!

I sprint forwards, my heavy footfalls denting the floor as I run out onto the…

12th July 2012
12:56 GMT -8

The streets of Aberrance, screams guiding me in the direction of the former site of the Metamorphodrome, now Uncorp's primary chirurgical centre.

Ring, find Cranius!

By your command.

Got a location. Communication channel.

"Cranius, I'm here, what's going-"

A colossal arc of lightning scythes through the tops of the surrounding buildings!

"-on?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:00 GMT -8

Oh-.

I shoot into the sky, colossal construct insects appearing in the streets and grabbing hold of the buildings, both preventing the upper storeys falling and blocking further shots with their bodies as I frantically look around for the attacker! Glass sprays from the superheated glass panes as they explode, my shields only covering-.

I need help. Drones.

Sinestro, confirm alert. Get Iname-

A rainbow beam flickers out of nowhere and one of my constructs vanishes.

-and Knockout.

Your children?

The genomorphs can do bodyguard duty. I need people with resistance to magic. New Gods.

Order sent. Circe would-.

Circe got the same alert I did. She'll come or she won't. Same with Adom. Now try-.

Another rainbow beam, but this time I drop an armoured hull plate out of subspace and the construct being targeted uses it as a shield. It hits dead centre and… Does nothing. Some sort of 'activate when strikes' banishment effect, perhaps?

But if you like magic so much… THIS LAND ABHORS YOU!

I summon a new insectoid, noting as I do so that alarms are ringing and people are fleeing. Good. A couple of members of Uncorp security are trying to direct the mad scramble, but they're mostly being ignored. Keeping one eye on my constructs I fly over, landing forcibly in front of them.

"What's going on?"

A woman with elven ears and a peculiarly angular face shakes her head.

"Damned if I know, Mister Grayven. Was a pretty normal day a minute ago."

"Know where Cranius is?"

The gecko-featured man next to her shrugs helplessly.

"Dude, we're park security. I haven't seen Cranius since my procedure."

BO-

Iname appears before me.

-OM!

"Search and rescue. Go."

She nods, and in a black blur fleeing civilians start disappearing. Knockout appears a moment later, armour glowing and fists balled. She looks excited.

"Knockout. Wizard hunting." "Steel yourself."

"Yes, Grayven." "I'll cast fist!"

No more rainbow rays or lightning blasts, and the screams are dying down as people turn their lungpower to the task of fleeing better. My drones dip in and out of tangibility, removing glass and shooting the injured with healing rays.

Onwards, then.

I take to the air and head for the medical complex, Knockout following me on the ground. As I get above the surrounding building-.

A five metre wide lump of rubble flies through the air, hurtling toward me! Acceleration and probable mass-. I generate a baseball glove construct around my right hand and field it, absorbing the force with my own strength and then-. Yes, ground's been cleared, dropping it to the street below.

The air shimmers as two beams of gamma radiation strike my armour to little effect as I get a clearer view of the entity that's assailing me. It's a humanoid about twenty metres tall and made of dark grey rock, with green-glowing veins of metal running throughout its body. That says 'dumb monster' and 'distraction' to me, but it's still capable of killing plenty of people.

My goggles show it firing into the building at the same time as it's firing at me. Those eye holes are for show. And… Not mentally complex enough to feel fear, but there are plenty of people feeling fear in the building.

I generate a thick cylindrical construct around it, blocking its shots at the entire city. Gamma beams are still coming, but they're bouncing off the interior and either hitting the elemental thing, hitting the ground or heading off into the sky. It responds by raising its hands and shoving outwards, straining against the containment.

Scan it.

The grey blur flashes by and enters the building. Iname is trained in how to handle hospital evacuations and.. should be able to walk off radiation exposure. The radioactive rock creature is straining against my construct but doesn't appear to be strong enough to break it. Which means that if it's important its creator's going to appear in a few seconds and get a face full of purple death ray. And if it's not important then I'm wasting my time. Aberrance has safe storage sites for radioactive materials but they're rather built on the assumption that the radioactive materials won't be actively trying to leave under their own power. And destroying a being like this is likely to be a good deal harder than containing it.

I form a rock crusher construct above it and bring it down forcefully on its head, teeth whirring and grinding. Sure, I could shoot it, but it clearly doesn't have vital organs and appears to be lumps of rock held together with magic. Breaking it apart with brute strength will hopefully prevent whoever made it just feeding it more power.

It doesn't make any noise as it crouches slightly and raises its arms above its head. All that really achieves is to destroy its hands a little faster, but if the radiation beams come from its main trunk that might be worthwhile as a holding action. Ah… Oh, looks like it's trying to melt the ground beneath it. I add a bottom to the container, foiling its effort.

I am mildly pleased that it remains silent as my construct surges down, chewing through what's left of its arms and enveloping its head and upper torso. A spray of rock later and it's done, the broken remains of the creature falling inanimate to the ground. I focus on the lingering fears of the remaining watchers that it might return and transmute the material into blocks of pure silica.

"Grayven to Cranius, please respond."

"Laboratory."

I fly, ignoring the blasted and torn form of the chirurgical centre and the.. horribly burned corpses that were its employees and patients. A surprising number appear to have been decapitated, which implies that there are conventionally sized infantry sword-fetishists around here some-.

And then I see Cranius and realise that I wasn't taking the location into account.

Otto is naked, and attached to his neck, chest, thighs and arms are… Heads. Most appear to be unresponsive, but-.

"Niko?"

She blinks at me as Cranius drags another bleeding head over and readies his chirurgical engine.

"Cranius, what-?"

"I will save all I can! But zhe lunatic threatened to go after zhe insectoids! You must-"

The machine finds an artery, and there's a patter of blood on the floor as Cranius wires in the next head.

"-stop him before he can-"

Shit. Boom tube!

Ping!

"-doom us all!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
14:00 GMT -7

I purse my lips as I stare at my orrery.

I'm sure that I've seen this before somewhere.

Not the orrery, which was a project which combined my arcane experience with Sunset's arcane knowledge. It is by far a greater tool than any I worked with in eras past. I would never have tried focusing this spell through a simple map or wooden navigational aide. Not the eruption of elementals besieging Cranius's citadel. Temporarily imbuing the inanimate with life is something even a moderately talented magician could do, had they the knowing of it.

This way of concealing a presence.

On the other side of the room, Giovanni Zatara raises his eyebrows in enquiry.

"Professor Larissa, have you made any progress?"

That's… A drawback to being available for consultations. Sometimes, people want to consult with you at inconvenient times. As Circe I could arrive at Grayven's side and smite whoever dared attack our ally… But as Professor Larissa -a capable but not especially powerful wielder of magical power- I am forced to moderate my response in the presence of a member of the Justice League.

This 'secret identity' business is such a nuisance. I can see why Diana never bothered with one.

"No."

And I keep my sighs contained. If a magic tutor such as my false face failed to identify a malefactor that would merely indicate that they had taken a few sensible precautions. But I'm an ancient sorceress. Hiding from the magics I've been using -even at lower levels of raw power- is no mean feat. It's not Dracula -I'll never forget the feel of his magic, all brute force and no subtlety- and Mr. Near confirmed that it's not Dr. Mist -who could certainly hide from me but would sooner cut off his own right arm than be this overt- and it's clearly not a demon. So who does that leave that I would..?

Aaaaaah.

That's why it feels familiar. Centuries of feeling the edges of the workings of thousands of Atlantean practitioners means that I've become well accustomed to their style, but this isn't the way they practise in the modern era. It wouldn't even occur to Sunset to use magic in this manner. So, either an Atlantean archmage with an interest in history or someone older.

I'm sure Adom would love it if it turned out that Queen Gamemnae somehow survived-.

"Are you certain?"

He doesn't know me well enough to interpret my expressions accurately, but he would spot an illusory mask.

"It reminds me of some of the older Atlantean techniques. Sunset uses the modern thaumaturgically complex forms while this makes more of an effort to work with existing arcane systems."

Because he didn't have anything like the same level of theoretical knowledge back then that they do now and wouldn't have known how to do that. Ahri'ahn. Where has he been? I haven't seen him in the flesh for…

For…

For a while, but I haven't even felt his magic for…

I think I owe Grayven more than I realised for persuading me to leave Kalonymos. For at least two centuries.

"Do you think it could be Circe?"

That's a rational enough deduction. And the answer is no, because I'm perfectly willing to evoke spirits and gods whereas his skin crawls at the very notion of even talking to someone who isn't Greek. Which explains why there haven't been any demands issued; that would involve communication and he hasn't been in contact with modern Atlantis yet to recruit a 'surface-face'. I can well believe that he'd kill a surface dweller who 'cosplayed' as him for no better reason than that.

But there's no reason for 'Professor Larissa' to know that or to be able to identify such subtle distinctions in their magic. A modern magic researcher would only know of him as a historical figure of note. Few among the people of Atlantis perform magic in historical styles for much the same reason that few people on the surface drive around in Model T Fords. But I suppose that it doesn't really matter if Giovanni thinks it's me or someone else, just so long as he's acting against them. So as much as it hurts my pride…

I nod. "It could be. I try to avoid people like that, so I've never experienced her magic close up. But whoever it is, according to this…" A portion of the orrery lights up, showing images of a damaged Aberrance street. "They're in Aberrance right now."

"Aberrance. Do you know it?"

I smile. "Yes, of course. Doctor von Schadel and I have corresponded at length on the use of Atlantean biomancy in his work. And of course the army wanted a second opinion on his implants."

He nods, then returns his attention to the orrery.

"Can I use this to guide a teleportation spell?"

I didn't think he was powerful enough to attempt such a thing. How much has that necklace enhanced his abilities, I wonder? And would he be willing to let me study it? I'm not interested in drawing on the Plane of Order, but there are techniques that can be applied when using other sources of power.

"I.. imagine that you can. It can certainly form a sympathetic link for you. I'm afraid that sort of magic is a little beyond me."

I've been lying to people for over three thousand years, so even a lie like that doesn't trip me up. In truth unaided direct teleportation was… Difficult in the immediate aftermath of breaking my pact with Hecate. But something as trivial as moving around the material world at will is well within my abilities.

As is maintaining a mental glamour against the type of probe Giovanni just attempted, concealing my real nature behind a façade and disguising that it is a façade. He's.. good, considering his relative youth. But he's using Lord Nabu's tools to punch above his weight and hasn't raised his own skills to match.

Maybe in a few centuries.

He nods politely.

"I thank you for your assistance. Tropsnart em ot eht dleifelttab!"

Gold light flashes and I watch the connections form between him, the orrery and the image of Aberrance. Then there's a flicker and he's gone. I wave my hands, making sure that he hasn't left any sort of observation spell behind. No, he kept to the rules of hospitality. What a pleasant surprise. I can't persuade Constantine to do that even after all of the minor 'corrective' curses I've put on him.

I turn and walk over to the desk, pulling out a bundle of threads. Let's see… Social interaction, teaching, physicality, some creativity… I twist the threads into a knot and attach aspects of my character to each one… And stand back as a changeling wearing my 'Professor Larissa' face appears.

"Take my classes and help the students."

She nods and heads to the 'Introduction to Magic' class that I'd had to put on hold. It won't require her to actually use magic, which is good because while she can draw on my reserves, if I'm going to be fighting Ahri'ahn I don't want to be at anything less than my best.

Even if he hasn't left any monitoring spells on the orrery, Giovanni might feel it if I use it. Fortunately, I know the shape of Sunset's magic well enough not to need it. I simply raise my hands and walk towards her heat and skill and friendship, shimmering-

12th July 2012
13:04 GMT -8

-into being next to her in the Aberrance car park, the illusion of Professor Larissa well and truly discarded.

Flames are curling around Sunset as she partially etherealises, proving that she's well on her way to true apotheosis. Man-shaped lumps of macadam slump inert in a circle around her where she's defended herself against attack. She glances at me as I appear, and her… Genuine smile actually makes my heart flutter.

"Circe!"

"Sunset. Are you winning?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:03 GMT -8

I dash out of the boom tube and into one of the insectoid enclosures-. Shiiiiiit die!

The humanoid lump of concrete and steel is blasted apart by my beam and what's left is smashed to powder by my construct hammer.

"Grayven to everyone."

Another lunges at me, concrete forelimb pulverising itself against my cuirass before my counterpunch sends its head flying into what's left of the containment chamber wall.

"The insectoids are out. Iname, evacuate Uncorp but do not let them touch you. Your safety-"

I raise my right arm and bring it down, smashing the still-upright elemental… Thing, to detritus.

"-is paramount."

Because that's what destroyed the world in Marvel Zombies. Pietro got infected, then infected millions all across the world in a matter of moments. The sensible thing would probably be to get her to pull out, but this is going to be a slaughter otherwise. Just have to risk it.

A second of pressure on my back, then two transparent scythes swing at my eyes! I raise my left arm to block, the-. The transparent aluminium grinds against my vambrace as the surprisingly strong whatever-this-is tries to force through its attack before being knocked off by a wrecking ball construct.

"Malefactors include elementals conjured from local materials. Sunset, if you can get here without exposing yourself to the insectoids, do so and unsummon this lot."

My immediate vicinity's clear and drones are heading in to find my targets.

"Sure. What's so dangerous about-?"

"Master, one of the people here has been bitten. What-?"

Whoever did this caused the concrete to form an ornate staircase down into the holding chambers down from the observation area. I go up at a jog. The insectoids would want to get out, but they're essentially animals navigating an unfamiliar environment. Not all of them will go far.

"If it's a small bite, cut off the body part. If that's not practical, knock them out."

"Will that stop it?"

"No, but it will stop them feeling it. There's no cure yet. Get bitten, you turn. Get cut, you turn. Their spit, their poison, everything-"

A tentacle-covered twelve legged insectoid drops on me from the wall! I catch it in both hands and my arms are swiftly enveloped in sucker-covered tentacles which secrete some sort of caustic substance.

"-about them is designed to infect-"

Which they can't do to my armour but can do to the tiny amounts of organic residue on my armour, a dull yellow foam appearing on my forelimbs.

"-and convert."

"I can kill them, Master."

Construct pneumatic rams begin slamming into where I think this creature's brain is. As far as we've been able to tell they don't feel fear, but there's still plenty of fear in this building alone.

"Nughgreehraughhhh!"

I twist, slamming it against the wall and then getting-. Spartan kicking it down the steps into the containment chamber. It hits the ground and rolls end over end until it hits the back wall. I.. need to fix this. I never thought I'd need to build a place to hold these creatures. The place I put the British cultists isn't big enough or resilient enough.

I fly backwards, pieces of rubble being altered and shoved into place to cover the hole. I transmute a little titanium and steel… That should do for now.

"Knockout, status."

"Car park! Found the wizard!"

I nod. Knockout's resilience is her one useful quality so I don't feel obliged to rush to her aid. Corralling the insectoids is my highest priority.

"The insectoid enclosure is repaired. Iname, if you're able, call for boom tubes and send the insectoids back."

"Yes, master!"

I head out through what used to be a series of secure corridors, now warped into some sort of promenade. A thick vault security door has been crushed like tinfoil, with the controls blasted apart-. From the inside, from the looks of it. Alright, that-.

Wiring leaps out of the walls and wraps around me, electricity arcing!

And doesn't do a thing to me, as my armour is pretty darn insulated, but that would have been a nasty trap for someone without my level of resilience. Construct wire cutters snip and cut through, but the wires are animated and twist around each other to keep the current flowing.

And then they fall dead.

"Sunset to Grayven. I've… Countered the spell, but that was… Really powerful. I don't know if I could stop it quickly if it got cast again."

I pull free of the last few wires, then fly at speed through the redesigned corridors.

"Just do your best. Any sign of Circe?"

"She's in the middle of something."

An insectoid millipede rears up and spits at me-

Boom tube.

BOOM.

-and a construct battering ram shoves it back into the portal aperture as the mutagenic gunk hits my cuirass. FACE ME!

Disintegrate it.

Done, Lantern Grayven. What a fascinating terror weapon they would make.

No, they're too effective and too wild. They'd convert a world before anything useful could be achieved.

They die when they're damaged sufficiently. An advanced world would accept that they couldn't be saved and kill them, at tremendous cost to their morale. Do not allow Earth's abnormalities to jade you to the effectiveness of conventional military power.

I hesitate as something that looks like a bodybuilding praying mantis charges me.

Would it be better to use soldiers? As a federal agent I can call on Department of Metahuman Affairs SWAT teams and since we're in Aberrance I imagine that the Department of Energy's equivalents would be made available as well. With current generation ABC warfare gear they should be able to manage acceptably well.

BOOM

And back into storage it goes.

But they might take casualties. People converted into insectoids. Which would cause people to associate that with Un-Men, regardless of the fact this is only happening because a high-powered wizard is attacking the place and decided they were mildly more convenient than making more elementals. That would set Cranius back and it probably wouldn't even improve the situation. Heavy bombardment would work, and completely stop anything useful happening here.

No, I'm going to have to clear this with my own resour-

Iname appears.

"All done, Master!"

-ces.

"Good work. Now let's go and help Knockout."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:04 GMT -8

I shrug, trying not to look as relieved as I feel.

"Eh. You know."

Because I can do control spells and I can do battle spells. But I'm not so good at doing both at once while someone actually tries to kill me. Magic armour plus transformed Earth Pony should let me do what Grayven does and just shrug off people hitting me. But I've seen the scars from where he couldn't and I'm not ready to try that quite yet.

I smile, some of the tension going out of my shoulders.

"All the better now you're here."

Because I can do this. Probably. But having someone here who's got a lot more experience than me means that I'm less likely to get something really wrong.

I feel Circe touching my spells with her magic, feeling out what they do and how much effort they're taking. Even without a horn I can manipulate far more magic power now than I could before my transformation, and after I set spells up keeping distinct spells running in parallel is a snap. I thought about making the spell I'm using to prevent elemental manifestations harder to understand, but if we're trying to find whoever's responsible for this attack, then-.

"You've made that spell simple to understand on purpose, haven't you?" Circe smiles at me. "You cunning minx."

I tilt my head back, chin held high in pride.

"Cunning pony."

And there's an exception for a very narrow band of sympathetic resonances, so that if I do this-

The concrete and tarmac around us jumps up, forming a short defensive wall.

-then it behaves a little more like a hill or fortress. Not as good as if I reinforced it directly, but it's a lot tougher than it should be. It took me hours to work out how Maud was doing that, but even with the bruises it was time well spent. So if-.

Everything goes white for a moment and I immediately heal myself, blinking-. Yes! Tarmac beats lightning! This is starting to look like the work of someone who's strong but lazy. I mean-

I start trying to reverse-engineer whatever it was that whoever that is did to hurl lightning like that, my etheric senses running along the channel in the way Circe's did my spell. And I'm not exactly feeling anything impressive. Like I thought, high power and…

Auto-targeting? Huh. So it's not targeting me specifically, it's just taking shots at targets of opportunity. But I've seen Misa dropping people off and it hasn't tried blasting any of them. What's the characteristic it's looking for? It's not how much of a threat it is, because it was blasting buildings when Grayven got here.

"Sunset, it would be wise to raise your defenses."

Huh?

"Magic defenses? I've already got those."

"No, your shields against direct attack. These buttresses are reasonable, but-."

Oh, darn it. She's right. The few battlemage lessons I was able to persuade Celestia to give me didn't take into account the sort of weapons Earth has. I mean, I'm a small target-

I wave my right hand, creating an area around me where all objects and energies are predisposed to avoid hurting people.

-in cover, so I'm not exactly an easy target.

I take a step to the left.

Moving around might be better than bunkering up, but I don't know what magic is being used here and I don't want to split my concentration. Genomorphs might get converted by those.. insectoid things.

Equestria does not have anything like those.

I turn to look at Circe.

"Is this oka-"

A beam of rainbow light shoots past my nose, disintegrating a neat hole through my dugout.

"-y?"

Okay taller walls now. I don't need to be able to see all that well to keep suppressing the summoning effect.

"I think that it is, yes."

"What even was that? It-."

Actually, what did it do? Was it homing in on me? There wasn't an explosion when it hit home and I didn't feel any sort of pressure shift that might be caused by teleportation or matter nullification. I spread the area of the safe zone outwards to increase the chance of it 'catching' another shot like that, boost my armour and start trying to examine that spell and the lightning spell for shared elements.

Okay… I think…

"Is that the guidance system?"

"The guid-. Hm." Circe nods. "I think you're right. I think it is."

"Okay, well, I can misdirect it-. Actually."

I bend down and pick up a small stone. Yes, that should do… I trace a small sigil on it with my right foreclaw and imbue it with a little power. And throw…

It sails over the area covered by my ward and-.

And I blink to clear my eyes as lightning hits it. Twice.

And then the rainbow beam hits it.

Ooooooh.

Oh, this bit isn't going to be fun.

I hold my right hand out to the side, draw mana into the material world just over my palm and wai-.

Lightning strike. And two, three, four, f-.

The glowing ball winks out as the rainbow beam shoots it through the middle-. Through the middle because the ward is only protecting living people and a ball of energy isn't a living person.

I pour mana into my right palm, raise my left hand and conjure a beam of light-.

Hah! It curved around! That's pretty clever. Once we're finished here I'll do a proper analysis and work out-.

Circe pats me on the head.

"I'm sure that's very interesting, dear, but perhaps you should focus on the here and now?"

"Right, okay. It look like-. Grayven?"

"Listening."

"The lightning and rainbow beam home in on magic. If you-"

I pull more power into the world, but this time surround it with a minor dampening spell so that it won't look like it's there.

One.

"-hide anything magical with a disguise ward, the spells shouldn't trigger."

Two, three, four… Five.

Yes!

"Right. I'll bear that in mind. Is Circe with you?"

She leans towards me. "Yes, I am."

"You've got lots of experience undoing human transformations. Would you mind having a go at some of the locals? We… Didn't get to all of them fast enough."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:05 GMT -8
FACE ME!
Iname just runs outside, but I'm limited to more mortal speeds. A hush tube takes me out into the car park in front of the main building, my visor over my eyes as I search for my target and my god powers fully activated, reaching out across my ally's home territory. Whoever this is will have to choose between fighting me directly or accepting being weakened by the Source.

Seven metres away to my left Knockout tanks a blast of luminous cyan fire on the shield she grudgingly accepted from my armoury.

"I will tear your liver from your chest, wizard!"

Now where is the blight-?

Lighting flashes out of nowhere, biting at my armour. But the wizard hasn't appeared in person. My challenge is unanswered, and the blast which previously scythed through entire buildings patters off my armour like spring rain. If it was being manually cast then it would only be a little weaker, so-. Automatic?

"Tcetorp Nevyarg morf eht pu-wollof!"

Huh?

A rainbow beam like the one that nullified my construct monsters flies at me, only to be struck by a beam from-. Zatara's amulet. The beam fades away, only the weakest residues carrying on to strike my left gauntlet. 'Protect Grayven…'

"Giovanni!" I draw my daiklave. "Good to see you. Whatever brings you here?"

"Arion." He drifts a little closer, carefully watching the space around us. "Or as he would have originally been called in his native Atlantis, Ahri'ahn."

"Arion? William Knightley?" I frown. "I interviewed him for Larissa's school when I was trying to help her find teachers, the man's a tit. He's nothing like powerful enough to do this."

Zatara raises his eyebrows. "William.. Knightley?" I nod. "Then at least I know the victim's name. I was referring to the original Arion, not the man who unwisely began using his name."

Oh. "Ahri'ahn, the founder of the Atlantean school of magic Ahri'ahn?"

"The very same."

Huh. Kind of surprised we're doing this well. Though… Circe herself demonstrates that there's a limit to how good a magician attached to their human physiology can get. And she had access to an appreciable chunk of Hecate's power prior to giving it up. Nabu and Jebediah have elemental order, Klarion and Company have elemental chaos making them more than they were. I have a fragment of the Source. Ahri'ahn was famous for not having any interest in making any sort of bargain with an elemental creature. And if he hasn't been keeping up with modern thaumaturgy then he won't be knowledgeable enough to use work arounds in the way that Sunset does. So he's probably dangerous but not ridiculously s-.

Space… Ripples, and then the air surges past me at skin-scouring speed! Iname dashes away, trying to outrun it while Knockout just braces and Zatara clutches his amulet.

"A weak-."

Yeah, it doesn't really hurt but there's no way he'll be able to hear me until the noise has died down a little. I fold my arms behind my back, Darkseid-style. Five, six-. There we go.

"A weak effort, Ahri'ahn. Considering your legend I expected better. Or were all of your battle magics cast against defenceless civilians, even in the days of antemergerentur Atlantis? I don't recall my Atlantean colleagues mentioning you ever fighting an equal, but I had assumed that was just due to the gulf of time. Is this really all you can do?"

Zatara grits his teeth.

"Grayven."

"Method to my madness, Zatara. All sorts of things happen when you don't play ball with a New God." I spread my arms out a little. "Want to try shooting me again? It'll be even less effective this time, then less still and still."

I make a show of walking in a circle, but I'm watching out quite carefully. My goggles revealing nothing means that in a very real sense that he's not here. He's not dodging us by being invisible or intangible. Remote viewing is perfectly possible, but countering that would require highly sophisticated magic of a sort that I'll have to rely on Sunset or Circe for.

"Don't make me use school yard insults. We'll both feel the lesser for it."

There's a peculiar waft of sea spray from the roof of the entry gate guard station, and my goggles show me all sorts of interesting information about exactly how he's interacting with local space. I'll share it with Sunset when things are a little calmer. A moment passes and then a man in early modern and decidedly non-Atlantean dress precipitates out of his portal. And when I say non-Atlantean, I mean neither historical Atlantean nor modern Atlantean.

So I say the first thing that comes into my head.

"What's with the clothes?"

"Alien."

No trace of an Atlantean accent. He's been speaking English for a while, well enough to inject enough contempt into the word to make it clear how he feels about me. Alright then.

"By the authority invested in me by the American Federal Government, I am placing you under arrest."

He doesn't even bother to raise an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly expect me to comply?"

"No. No. But they like it if I try. What was this all about, anyway?"

"It's about you disgusting creatures using my work." He holds out his right hand and a book I.. don't recognise teleports into his hand. "My actual work. You.. create these abominations and celebrate it. You're like children proudly standing next to a shit-filled potty."

"Whaw, modern Atlanteans sure get you wrong. So… You want every un-man dead and their records expunged?"

"And you and your lackeys dead, and that order cultist as well."

"Excuse us if we don't try-" The tron lines on my armour switch from yellow to orange as I focus my mind on my revulsion at his wantonly destructive attitude. "-to take you alive, then."

Knockout charges and the water foam rises again, Iname's scythe passing through the area he occupied-

"Agh!"

-a moment before with no resistance. I turn-. Shit!

A mosquito-like insectoid has pounced on Zatara, proboscis punching through his magic shield and stabbing-

My construct ram hits it a moment later, ramming it through the exterior wall of the Uncorporation building and back inside.

-him in the.. leg. He clutches the wound, staggering for a moment before collapsing to the ground.

Scan.

Non-human matter detected.

Iname dashes up, looking at him with concern.

"Master-?"

"Get him to Sunset. I'll clear up the rest of the insectoids."

"What about the wizard, Master?"

My face darkens.

"We'll have to go after him later."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
18:06 GMT -3

It is quiet, when I fly like this.

12th July 2012
17:06 GMT -4

I have been told by the scholars of this era that it is because I am flying faster than the sound my flight generates.

12th July 2012
16:06 GMT -5

It is almost poetic. I questioned them as to why I could see myself, and they told me that light is far faster than sound.

12th July 2012
15:06 GMT -6

I had suspected, but it was still pleasant that the people of this era could measure such things; that the understanding is so widespread that it is common knowledge.

A world of scholars. A pleasing idea.

12th July 2012
14:06 GMT -7

Lord Atum, grant me the power to strike down my enemies.

12th July 2012
13:06 GMT -8

My fists strike what even to my eyes appears to be empty air, shards of colour, pressure and broken magics exploding away from the point of impact! For an instant the chaotic one is visible, surprise and fear clear on his face. I reach to grasp him, but fast as thought he calls his magics about him and vanishes once more.

Frustrating.

I look down at the damage he has wrought to the home of my ally, the strange living head called 'Cranius'. The towers of his vassals and merchants are torn and broken, though fortunately the homes of his people appear mostly unharmed. There is a woman in dark clothing running across-. Ah, Grayven's champion Iname. It is still strange to see others moving when I move with Lord Aker's blessing. She is.. carrying a wounded person. Swift though she is, she has no particular skill in fighting evil magicians.

Still, that should have unmade any spells he had active over the area.

I feel-. The wizard-!? No. No, an altogether more pleasant sight. Circe and her apprentice Sunset Shimmer stepping slowly out of thin air. Their spell must be near-instant for me to be able to notice it.

Lord Zehuti, clear my mind. Reveal to me my enemy's magic.

I look around, trying to discern his location or where he may attack again. The style of the magic is somewhat familiar to me; the similarity to Queen Gamemnae's magic marks it unmistakably as Atlantean. Old Atlantean. But why would an Atlantean attack Cranius's demesne? He does not threaten their territory, their people or their trade. Has he offended their gods, perhaps? That seems more likely. When I asked him about his gods he claimed to only acknowledge a fertility goddess, and I do not think that he was being entirely serious.

But when I look beyond the traces of Atlantean magic, I see… I do not recognise it, but smaller amounts of magic almost everywhere that has been damaged. Did the Atlantean find his magic offensive, then?

I descend, pushing Lord Aker's blessing away far enough that I can meaningfully interact with people who move at normal speeds.

"Madam Circe. Madam Shimmer."

Circe smiles warmly, and I-. I find myself responding. She is an interesting woman.

"Teth Adom, have you won already? That would be most discourteous after we came all this way."

Sunset Shimmer looks around at the damage that the magician has wrought.

"Yeah, I don't think this is over. Not unless you hit him so hard he just exploded."

"I regret that I did not. My blow neutralised his magics, but he appeared to have prepared for such a thing occurring."

"By punching-? No, that's not important right now. Grayven!"

Something approaches, and I draw upon Lord Aker's blessing in preparation for an attack. But no, it is just Iname, carrying a creature wearing an ill-fitting-.

"Giovanni!"

Ill-fitting suit. I frown as Iname lays him on the ground and Sunset Shimmer rushes to examine him. Giovanni.. Zatara? The clothing matches, but the figure's lower legs are those of some manner of great insect and have torn through his trousers.

"Oh my." Circe regards him with concerned interest as Sunset Shimmer calls her magic to her. "I seldom used insect transformation on my subjects. But the core principles of the metamorphosis should be the same. Anton Arcane did study transformative magic as well as biomancy."

"It's still going it's still going it's still going…"

Sunset Shimmer pulls his shirt apart with a strength I did not know that she possessed, revealing his bare chest-. It is still mostly human, though it is as if chitin were climbing up his flesh, covering his skin. A transformation curse, then. I have seen such things before.

"Adom, can you..? Fix this? Punch him?"

"Sunset, focus. Even if Adom could remove all of the magic used in this transformation, it's only-."

"Only partially magical, because Arcane used biotechnology and that wouldn't be affected. Yes, yes."

Sunset Shimmer is a brilliant and powerful young woman, but she is clearly unseasoned if she forgot herself like that.

"Adom, would you be a dear and check on Grayven? Sunset and I can handle this."

My pride bridles at being dismissed in such a manner. But she is an ally, and she is not wrong. To remove such a curse requires speed and skill with magic that I lack, and with no visible enemy there is little I can do to help them.

"Mister Teth Adom?" Iname smiles brightly at me, her expression entirely at odds with our surroundings. Why is she happy? "Master is in the Uncorporation building."

'Master'? No, no, not a slave. A devoted servant. There are such among the people of Khandaq, who foolishly call me a god. I had never thought to give them power, but she is clearly dutiful in his service.

I nod, calling upon Lord Aker's blessings in full.

"Show me."

She runs, and I run after her. I usually do not like to touch the ground, but if these are to be my peers in this new world, I can lower myself that much. The broken streets pass in less than the blink of a mortal eye, the slighted wall around Cranius's school an instant later. Inside the building Grayven is wrestling with a bizarre monster that looks like a giant mosquito, both locked in place as statues due to the difference in our speeds. The monster looks as though it could kill a great many mortal men, though I cannot see why one so strong as Grayven is having difficulty in slaying it.

I draw back my left fist-.

"No!"

Iname's hand is on my forearm. Such impertinence! I am not some dog to be pulled up by their collar-!

"They were people before they were transformed! Most of them were soldiers!"

And at once my anger departs me. Of course. A king would hear of monsters and send soldiers, assuming that even if the monsters were stronger individually the cohort would still be able to slay them. But if the wounded soldiers were transformed, he would simply be increasing the threat. By the time someone contained them, the original monster would be the least of his concerns.

"How has Grayven commanded you to fight them?"

"Don't get infected. Every part of their body can transform you. Hit them into a boom tube and we can send them back to their cells."

I nod.

"Call upon the boom tubes. I am more resilient than you, and it would be best for us to resolve this quickly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:09 GMT -8

I nod to Adom as he holds the ten-legged lamprey… Not an insectoid, taxonomically speaking, but an un-man insectoid. It thrashes helplessly as Adom holds its mouth closed and I direct Mother Box to open a hush tube. I use a construct to block as it squirts blood at him from its eyes, then Adom turns and throws it through the tube and back into containment.

And close.

"Are there more?"

Ring?

None found.

"No, that's it." I manage a strained smile and offer him my right hand. "Thank you for coming."

He clasps my forearm and I return the gesture.

"I regret that I was not able to stop the wizard permanently."

"Ancient wizards don't live to be ancient by being easy to kill."

"I am painfully aware of that."

He is rather.. fixated on the idea of taking revenge on Jebediah. Shazam. Whatever. I've made it clear that I'm not going to be lending him my knife for that, but there's no percentage in trying to talk him out of something he feels that strongly about. Perhaps he might come to regard hunting Ahri'ahn as practice?

Mother Box, hush tube to Kahndaq.

Ping.

"Much as Cranius and I appreciate you being here, given your international status…"

He nods. "Call upon me should he reappear."

He flies through the opening, and I close it before opening another back to the street where Sunset and Circe were working on saving Zatara. I step through, blinking…

I can't exactly see magic, but I can.. feel things being… Twisted. I can.. almost taste it. Sunset's hair is doing the same thing as Celestia's mane, billowing and no longer entirely corporeal. Circe's more there, but… Things are shifting…

"Any joy?"

Zatara's down to his underwear and while I can see his outline, it's like he's… There and not there? Whole and at the same time an exploded view? Doesn't look comfortable, but it also doesn't look like he's turned into an insect.

It also doesn't look like something that can be applied en masse. I didn't recognise twenty or so of the insectoids we threw into containment, and I'm confident that when we take a roll call we'll find at least that many people missing.

I hate feeling… Powerless.

Sunset and Circe stand up. I raise my eyebrows.

"Is he still human?"

He… Looks human, but I'm aware of a wide variety of techniques which can be used to 'bypass' a failing human body. Vampires -for example- usually have bodies that are sufficiently corpse-like that they are immune to a wide variety of biological substances. For fairly obvious and frankly nightmarish reasons we haven't experimented with that here, but there might be some necromancy-related way to prevent biological contamination.

"Oh, yes." Circe nods confidently. "He should probably avoid using more than minor magics for a week or so while his body stabilises, but he will remain human."

I nod. That's quite a relief. "Can the technique you used work for anyone else? We've got more people who've been infected-."

"Ah." Sunset stumbles a half-step before Circe takes hold of her to support her. "I-. Thanks." She smiles at Circe. "I don't think so. Not unless they're half-transformed magicians. And given how fast it goes…"

I nod. "Is that a matter of time, or is the limitation inherent to the technique?"

"It…" As she considers the idea her hair drops down to its normal level of animation. "Might be something we can adapt. Eventually. I'd need to.. study the other insectoids. The fully transformed ones."

That's… Yeah. The insectoids were always a liability, but now they've actually cost us. And useful as Sunset is as a part-time teacher and general researcher…

"Yeah. If Circe can spare you, I'd like you to coordinate with Cranius on studying the insectoids. Questions are going to be asked about this, and if we want Cranius's work to continue I'm going to need to convince our friends in government that matters are in hand."

Sunset nods, then looks at Circe. Circe nods with obvious reluctance.

"Your absence will be a blow, but Grayven is correct. This seems like just the thing that could make someone in General Lane's position nervous."

I hold up my right hand. "There's no need to rush. I'll get Cranius to get you access to Uncorporation's research records. They'll need a few days to start rebuilding at the very least before you'll be able to do anything on-site."

"If you can get me some blood, tissue and venom samples then I can get started right away."

"No, you can get to work on designing the workroom and automata you're going to use to interact with those samples. I expect-. I'll be talking to Scott about getting New God level biofilters installed and you're going to have to learn how to interact with them."

Sunset puts her right hand on her right hip.

"Grayven, I interacted with that… Stuff, on a level even you can't comprehend. I know how dangerous it is and I wasn't about to slack off on the safety precautions. I also know how… Horrible it is to get mutated by it. It wasn't just the changes you could see; it was already changing his.. brain."

I nod. "And that's why I'm insisting on extraordinary precautions." I kneel down to bring our faces closer to level. "I'm not accusing you of sloppiness or foolishness. But I care for your wellbeing, and these things are extraordinarily dangerous. Please, for me?"

"Oh." She blinks. "Um. Okay. It shouldn't be that hard to come up with something based on radiological handling protocols. If it's… That important to you."

"You are."

I might be pushing things here, but she's been in combat and just saved the mind of her best friend's father. I smile hopefully and spread my arms.

She rolls her eyes, but she steps forward and tolerates me hugging her-.

"Okay, that's enough. Don't make this-" I open my arms and she pulls away. "-weirder. Maybe you should… Spend less time around ponies."

"No, my relationship with Luna won't work if I don't accept her culture as she accepts mine."

Circe looks mildly affronted. "Do you have a hug for me as well?"

I shrug and open my arms again, causing her to huff and ignore me to hug Sunset. Sunset goes along with it, then her eyes widen in mock-horror.

"Did I just.. get adopted?"

"The other side of me thinking that Celestia's not good for you is that I think we are." I rise to my feet. "Now run along, Sunset."

"You know?" She raises her hands. "I'm just gunna do that. Mother Box, hush tube."

"Ping."

Sunset walks into thin air and vanishes.

"She took that well." Circe glances at me. "I had thought that she might blow up at us."

"She's come a long way, emotionally. Some ponies are just born to be shaved monkeys." I sigh, looking around. And then down at Giovanni. "I'll take him home. Could you please get started at the wards?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
13:24 GMT -8

Uncorporation staff run past me carrying machinery from.. I don't know where, heading to the laboratory Cranius is hastily rebuilding in his medical facility. Yeah, I don't know exactly how much blood is in Otto's body, but I very much doubt that he's designed to have multiple heads plugged into him for any length of time. I'm trying to stay out of their way, but I'm really big and there aren't a lot of clear gangways in a place this badly damaged.

Ah, it's going to have to come down anyway.

I exit the building through an external hole, getting a clear look at the physical damage most of the central business district of Aberrance has suffered. It's… Near-total. My constructs only held up the buildings for as long as it took for the people inside to evacuate, and the moment that happened and I left… Collapse. I've cleared the major streets so that vehicles could get through, but… It's not like there's a better place for the rubble to be while it gets sorted and processed.

Rising into the air, I fly to the point in the second storey closest to where Cranius is, open a hole in the wall and fly in. Cranius is still working, his head-transplant operations having expanded to plug people into what I'm sure are entirely voluntary volunteers from amongst the third generation cohort.

He doesn't look around.

"Grayven. We're working. Summary only, ja?"

'We're'-? Oh, that's Crassus assembling the bioreactor. He's out in the open in sunlight where people can see him. Weird.

"The insectoids are back in their enclosure, the elementals are banished and the wizard leading the attack appears to have left. An ally of ours is creating area wards around Aberrance which should prevent him reappearing. The attacker's name is Ahri'ahn."

"Zhe Atlantean? He is still alive?"

"Yeah, he dodged Adom's second punch. Don't know how many people are dead yet, but…" I look around his trauma ward. "It looks like the attack focused here. I'm estimating maybe ten or twenty outside."

"More here. Many more. When zhe creature appeared, zhe soldiers, zhey tried to fight it. I was… I was supposed to be working on a boy wizh… Leukaemia today. And now I… I have rubble."

"It killed him?"

"No. No, Niko ran wizh zhem to the back entrance… It attacked her and ignored zhem."

"And that's..? Where..?"

"I'm not dead, Grayven." Niko's head is attached to the stomach of a six-armed un-woman, and there's some sort of growth attached to her back that undulates as she speaks. "Though for some reason I can't stop thinking of head-puns."

"Uh. Are you..?"

"Better a head than dead. Right?"

Her expression is slightly pained, but she doesn't sound like she's on the verge of a total break down.

"What happened to your… Body?"

"I was too busy screaming to really get a good look."

"Radiation burns." Cranius begins slotting blood samples into a baroque-looking machine. "Fatal. Un-men are not prone to cancer but we can still catch fire."

"Remains?"

"Nozhing I can work wizh."

Oh dear. Sinestro, give me the news.

I fear that you are correct, Lantern Grayven.

"The Nth metal in her body. It's nothing I can't replace-" With a trip to Thanagar or to one of their perennial enemies. "-but it is rare and valuable and there are a lot of things someone could do with it. And my ring can't find your remains."

"I knew zhat zhe metal was valuable, but… Zhis whole..?"

"No, no. Ahri'ahn just finds un-men really disgusting. Though according to our Greek mutual friend he finds most people disgusting." I sigh. "I'll check, but I'm going to provisionally assume that Ahri'ahn got it. And, ah." I look Niko's head over. "The rest of you."

"So. I guess… No more flying for a while."

"Flying? You should be more worried about blood magic. When a magician of that level of experience gets a part of your flesh-."

But… I know a way around that. It… Might actually fix… Not everything, but-.

"Something.. occurs. Excuse me."

Mother Box, hush tube to wherever John Constantine is at present.

Ping.

Not completely unexpected. Just follow the scent of nicotine, then. I'm sure that he's at least trying.

Ping.

And I fly through the portal and-

12th July 2012
14:27 GMT -7

-he is indeed, a literal sphere of cigarette smoke enshrouding his head and stubbornly refusing to drift away.

"The fact I can't see yeh-" His right hand and the cigarette it's holding emerge from the smoke. "-doesn't mean I don't know that someone's there."

"John, you've got something I want, and since I want it now I'm not going to haggle. What do you want for Gabriel's wings?"

With whatever Circe did to him to envelop his head in smoke I can't even scan his expression.

"Well that's-."

"Don't mess about. A lot of people died today because Ahri'ahn went on a rampage. The only reason it's not more is that Cranius is plugging severed heads into other people's bodies to keep them alive."

I fire a blast of yellow at his face, transmuting the smoke into air. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the sudden light.

"You know where they are?"

"Yes."

He gives a small shrug. "You can owe me. Either that or get Madam Circe to take off these bothersome curses."

"I'll ask, but I'd suggest that you either stop pissing her off or just quit. I'm fine owing you. Mother Box."

"Ping."

I step through the portal and-

12th July 2012
21:29 GMT

-Jesus this place is a sty. The wings -silver blood congealing on the severed stumps- are shoved out of the way on top of a rickety-looking shelving unit. I grab them and then walk through-

12th July 2012
13:27 GMT -8

-into Aberrance.

"Got some replacement wings for you. The blood should also have healing properties."

"Zhank-."

"Oh God thank you. Ah. Do they work? They look a bit…"

"They should." I lay them down carefully on a gurney and Cranius leaps up to examine them. "Now I have to go and explain things to General Lane."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th July 2012
09:27 GMT

I frown as I leaf through the paper copy of the presentation before me, then look up at my fellow meeting attendees.

Oliver looks mildly pensive, while Conrad -the current Chief Executive of Cadbury- is keeping his face carefully blank.

"Gentlemen, I was pretty clear when I acquired Cadbury that I wasn't interested in having any direct involvement in setting company policy. I don't know enough about the business to do that. My purchase was purely a pride thing."

Oliver briefly glances at Conrad and then returns his attention to me.

"So what's the issue?"

Oliver adjusts his position in his seat.

"It's because it's not just about candy anymore." He sighs. "The Sheeda targeted container ships and transport airplanes. Long distance shipping worldwide is a fraction of what it was before the war, and for countries like Britain which are net food importers that's a big problem."

"Good for carbon emissions. And it's not like Britain can't increase the acreage it farms. Or.. are we actually looking at starvation?"

Oliver leans back a little.

"They're gunna be short of bananas for a while, but we're not talking about that kinda shortage. It's just stuff people have gotten used to having."

I nod. "But Cadbury is still fine, because your distribution network uses Dolmen Gates."

Conrad nods. "More than that, we tied our suppliers into our Gate network. Unlike a lot of companies in our position, we've been able to maintain both production and sales."

"Good. Great. That was why I had the company buy them in the first place. I mean, not in expectation that the Sheeda would invade, but for the added speed and security."

He nods again. "But we're not using them twenty four seven. Even bringing everything in and out by Dolmen Gates, there is plenty of time where they're not active. And we've already got the contacts with the Atlanteans if we wanted to expand the network."

"Do you?"

"We've been thinking about going into mass transit. We've had a few approaches from other firms interested in using our routes, and the Department for International Trade has been quite helpful. But so far it's all been ad-hoc. We've spent a little time talking to other businesses operating in the same geographic areas that we do, but we haven't really been looking at it in a holistic way. Obviously, there's a very big market in mass transit, and we could try to capitalise on it more fully."

"If you think it's a good idea, you'll have my support."

"The problem is that this is well outside of our core competences. We don't… We don't have the expertise in-house to manage something like… Well, like replacing global shipping entirely."

"So you want to set up a company dedicated to international freight shipping through Dolmen Gates?"

"We can keep going as we do now. But if you want us to maximise revenue, yes, that would be the best way to go about it."

I nod, smiling.

"Did you ever listen to the speech I gave in February last year? The one where I complained at length about how people weren't using technology properly."

He nods. "I watched it when you started bidding against Kraft. So I take it that you're… Enthusiastic about the prospect?"

"Extremely so. But…" I frown. "Do you think that dedicated rail links might be better than road?"

"As I.. said, it's outside of my area of expertise."

"I mean, I… Read a book once where a company ran heavy goods trains through wormhole portals. Once they arrived at the local terminus the locals could ship whatever they were carrying out. The company ended up as an effective monopoly. Their trains didn't even travel that far."

"We wouldn't be a monopoly. The Atlanteans are selling to a variety of buyers."

And I imagine that my stock in Poseidonis isn't enough to get more than our fair share of new orders. Boris… Has quite a few. They haven't quite been able to replace the entire London Underground yet, but public acceptance is high and last time I checked in they were trying to head in that direction. It might be possible to talk him into switching back to-. No. No, those are all person-sized. The Gates we've been using for heavy goods transportation are lorry-sized, the next diameter size up. We could probably do something with them, but if we don't even have a company to do it with yet…

"Is anyone else trying to set up this kind of network?"

Oliver shakes his head.

"Just like it's not easy to move freight around, it's not all that easy to actually get the Dolmen Gates to where they need to go. The Atlanteans can handle coastal deliveries just fine, but any further in land and they can't deliver. And the wizards have to be on-site, and Atlanteans aren't all that great at handling hot or dry conditions."

"Alright. I've got no idea who could handle something like this, and I certainly can't run it myself. What do you want from me other than my approval?"

Conrad smiles like a bank manag-. Of course.

"With the state of international banking, normal business loans are-."

"You want me to fund the company?"

"Ideally. Not all of the start up costs; with your approval Cadbury can invest directly as a shareholder. Though since you.. fully own the-."

I nod.

"Yes, I spotted that."

It's not quite the sort of self-directed uplift I've wanted to see happen, not if I'm paying for it. But it's a start.

"Any reason not to that I'm not seeing?"

Oliver shrugs. "Last year I'd have said something about putting people out of work. But the Sheeda already put the sailors and dock workers out of work, and from the sounds of things you're planning on hiring plenty of loading dock workers."

"Economic change can be painful, but that's no reason not to carry it out." I nod. "Alright, I'm game. Talk to the Atlanteans about sizes… I think that customer sized heavy goods trains will be the best bet, but it's even less my area of core competence than it is yours."

Conrad nods. "Unless you have someone in mind to lead the project, I think it would work best to get the initial exploration done in-house, and recruit a management team once we've got a definite idea of what we want them to do."

"Sounds good to me. Oliver, are you alright to continue keeping an eye on things?"

"Yeah. I've actually liked getting back into the corporate world. There's a lot less pressure in this sort of role, and I don't have to hide my-" He winks at me. "-charity work."

"And have we convinced you to stop eating chocolate made with curdled milk?"

He smiles, raising his right hand defensively.

"Now let's not go crazy."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th July 2012
10:00 GMT -4

Director Armstrong is glowering at me the moment I walk in the door.

"Agent Grayven, what-?"

And that's when she sees Sam as he walks in behind me.

"General Lane."

Sam nods politely. "Director Armstrong. Grayven called me in due to the potential military ramifications of what happened yesterday, and the attacks on US service personnel."

I shrug. "There's no sense in having the same meeting twice, is there?"

And maybe you'll learn from this and be less of a bitch to your own secretary in future so you actually get some warning when I turn up with the Head of Future Warfare.

I mean, I'm not hopeful, but it could happen.

I generate a construct chair and sit down on this side of her desk, while Sam pulls over the room's other chair. I'm sure that this sort of debriefing is supposed to happen in a meeting room along with a panel of analysts and.. probably someone from the Department of Energy. And Larissa, of course. But Director Armstrong made it a one-on-one in her office because she wanted to have a mare at me. I'm not sure what she thought that would achieve, but she's got the soul of a terrier and doesn't let go even when she should. I agreed to be an agent. I did not agree to be a chew toy.

"So." I take a holoscreen emitter out of subspace and put it on her desk. A moment later it switches to showing highlights of Aberrance. "Had a busy day yesterday. Aberrance got attacked by someone I strongly suspect to be Ahri'ahn, the founder of Atlantean civilisation."

Sam frowns. "Atlantis sunk thousands of years ago. Shouldn't he be dead by now?"

"According to a few unageing people I've spoken to, he got into the habit of.. skipping periods. Time travelling forwards. He might be unageing as well, but most ancient magicians do that by binding themselves to a greater power and all the records I've seen say that he finds the idea of doing that revolting."

Sam raises his left eyebrow.

"All of them?"

"Circe had a pact with Hecate, Doctor Mist is supposed to have made a pact with the Spirit of Earth… Humans can't live indefinitely, but they only have to become a little bit inhuman to dodge that." I shrug and shake my head. "Or they can take a running jump into the deep end. But being really good at magic doesn't automatically make you unageing, otherwise Atlantis would have a lot more archmages."

And probably own the planet.

"Anyway, I've genomorphs doing interviews, but my provisional summary is that Ahri'ahn arrived in Aberrance around about mid-morning local time. He used a minor mind affect spell to encourage people to go along with what he wanted and took a tour of the place. We're still trying to map his actual route and make sure that we disenchant everyone he touched. We've got him on camera, so I'm not sure if he doesn't know about cameras or just didn't care."

The holoscreen displays a selection of the recovered images. He doesn't look like Mr. Knightley at all. His expression appears to be one of the same blank disinterest that he wore when I saw him, though he's clearly taking everything in.

"The actual attack started closer to mid-day, local time, when various objects began self-animating. Concrete, rock, in one case heavily radioactive material and in a couple of others transparent aluminium. Ahri'ahn combined this with a couple of automatic attack spells which my colleague Sunset Shimmer is still picking apart to see how they worked. As a result, a number of buildings including the chirurgical centre and the Uncorporation building were attacked. The current death toll stands at a hundred and fifty three, however due to Cranius's efforts most US service personnel will eventually make full recoveries."

Sam nods. "Were they the focus of the attack?"

"It didn't look like it, on the grounds that the building wasn't completely flattened and there were survivors. On the basis of what he said to me I'm tentatively concluding that he just wanted the augmentation process shut down, but he certainly wasn't shy about attacking military personnel."

The holoscreen shows images taken from the centre's cameras, as well as a diagram of the stages of the attack as best as we've been able to recreate it.

"As you can see, while not exactly well organised, Ahri'ahn was able to bring overwhelming power to bear on.. what is essentially a civilian installation very quickly. The survival of so many soldiers can be attributed to Cranius's quick thinking and triage skill."

Director Armstrong nods slowly. "What exactly did Cranius do?"

"Cut off their still-living heads and attached them to functional bodies, sometimes several at a time."

Sam's mouth drops open. "Seriously?" I nod. "And he made that work? No, of course he did. So they're just.. heads?"

"He's going to be creating new bodies for them as soon as he has the facilities. For the moment they're transferring them to temporary bodies so they can at least move around."

Bodies made in a rush by Mr. Fiendstein. Most of the soldiers found it funny… At least after checking that they were getting human bodies back at some point. But a few completely freaked out and had to be anesthetised.

Director Armstrong's eyes narrow slightly.

"Cranius can create entire human bodies."

"Cranius can create entire inhuman bodies. They're not going to get back exactly what they lost."

"Will they still be human?"

"They'll be made of human tissue, certainly. It's not a perfect fix but the alternative was death. May I continue?" She nods. "Shortly before my arrival Ahri'ahn attacked the Uncorporation building directly and forced entry into the secure vault where they keep the insectoids. They got out and immediately began attacking everyone they encountered. We haven't been able to identify everyone due to how the.. conversions go, so we probably won't know exactly who they turned until people are reported missing."

"Can it happen again?"

"There are levels of power against which static defence matters very little. There were armed guards throughout Aberrance, and the insectoids are kept behind metres of steel-reinforced concrete. But stopping magicians as powerful as Ahri'ahn isn't something that 'reasonable' measures can do. Cranius is going to get some magic protection, but this is like…"

Sam nods. "Trying to stop Superman."

"Superman still gets hard-countered by kryptonite. Sufficiently capable magic users can't be stopped by anything other than another thing like them."

Director Armstrong's jaw tightens. "Like Black Adam."

I nod. "He's a friend of mine. Since he's quite good at dealing with powerful magicians-."

"And Circe."

"Like Circe, yes. Another friend of mine I asked to assist. Wonderful things, friends. You might want to look into it."

Sam flashes me a warning glance.

"So how do we stop this happening again?"

Director Armstrong's expression is more 'hard' than 'concerned'. "And how do we kill Ahri'ahn?"

"Stopping it happening again would involve putting an archmage in every location you want to protect, with more on standby. After a certain point… All you can do is make attacking a place more trouble than it's worth. Killing Ahri'ahn would just prevent him doing it again, it wouldn't stop anyone else."

"That wasn't why I asked. He killed US servicemen and women. He's signed his death warrant."

I shake my head. "The US doesn't do those, I asked. And so I'll thank you not to imply that I should violate my oath of office. But to my mind killing him would involve bringing to bear power of a sort we don't have in a place with no bystanders. We need more magicians."

Sam nods. "Think Atlantis will be willing to help bring this guy down?"

I shrug. "We can always ask."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th July 2012
16:09 GMT -2

"Grayven."

I turn as King Orin and Queen Mera enter the… I think this is a drawing room, Queen Mera performing the spells required to seal the room against observation.

"And Richard." Orin sounds considerably more friendly as he says it, but the most Richard can manage in response is a slightly strained smile. "Is this League business?"

Richard tips his hat. "Your majesties. This is more in the manner of an emergency briefing, given that it particularly concerns Atlantis. And given its precise nature I thought that you might like to get ahead on this one."

He walks over to convenient conversational distance, his movements entirely unaffected by the pressure of the water around us. Richard was able to confirm that the original victim was Mr. Knightley; a simple matter of looking at his face and Mr. Wayne talking him through performing a genetic analysis whose results only he could see.

"Giovanni was able to locate the individual we believe to be responsible for the murder, and we have a reasonable idea as to why they were slain. He also encountered the probable-perpetrator, which is why he's sitting up and taking light refreshment under the care of his dutiful daughter rather than talking to you."

Orin nods, his eyes flicking to me for a moment.

"Who did it?"

"The gentleman whose face we couldn't see was named William Knightley. He'd been acting as a superhero under the name 'Arion'. And it seems that Arion -or Ahri'ahn, if you prefer- took exception to that. Among other things."

Orin's reaction is fairly muted; a slight frown. Mera on the other hand boggles.

"That's-. That-. Are you.. sure?" She shakes her head. "There are a great many Atlanteans who might take exception to someone from the surface appropriating his name."

I form a bubble of air around my right hand, then take a holoprojector out of subspace and use it to project an image of the man I encountered.

"Does he look familiar?"

Mera stares helplessly at the projection.

"He has… Statues, but they're thousands of years old. I have no idea how accurate they are."

"From our brief conversation I rather got the impression that he was the sort of man to insist on accuracy. Were they contemporary works?"

"You.. spoke to him?"

"Yeah. I'm actually here wearing my American Federal Agent hat. Ahri'ahn attacked Aberrance. Un-men, civilians and US soldiers were killed, and General Lane asked me to come down here and sound you out about the whole thing."

Richard nods, an uncharacteristic degree of sombreness entering his expression. "Yes. The only reason that Zatara isn't a killer insect right now is the intervention of Sunset Shimmer and.. Circe, of all people. The one positive take-away appearing to be that at least Circe's serious about the whole rehabilitation thing. She also.. confirmed that his face and voice match her recollection of Ahri'ahn."

Orin frowns, his eyes finding mine.

"What does General Lane want to know?"

"Whether or not Ahri'ahn… Well, let's start with the basics. Is he an Atlantean citizen, legally speaking?"

"Yes. He lived in Poseidonis immediately after the sinking, and was never exiled. There's a fairly limited precedent for people who were assumed to be dead for so long regaining citizenship, but I can't think of a reason why it wouldn't happen."

"The United States and Atlantis don't have an extradition treaty. If Ahri'ahn came to your attention, would you be prepared to hand him over?"

"I'm still trying to get my head around the idea that he's still alive. I have no interest in sheltering a murderer…" He's looking me directly in the eyes as he says it. "Though if he's as powerful as he's supposed to be, I don't see why he'd want to come here."

"I, ah…" Richard looks away in pantomimed-awkwardness. "Don't mean to be rude, but do you have the ability to stop him if he did?"

Orin looks at Mera, who shakes her head helplessly.

"I have no way to know. Clearly, he had-. He has a brilliant mind, but I have no way to accurately assess how his skills compare to those of modern Atlanteans. How did you defeat him?"

"He said that he wanted to kill all of the Un-men as 'abominations', but he also stole a book which he claimed was his property. After he recovered it, Adom hit him with an Atum-assisted punch. His spells broke and he left in a hurry. But as I'm sure you can sympathise, Adom has a country to run. It isn't practical for him to move to Aberrance or spend his time hunting Ahri'ahn down."

Orin nods.

"I assume that Captain Marvel could do the same thing?"

"Assuming that he's been practising his focuses, yes. Adom is what Marvel might grow into; application isn't an innate part of the power. Look, I think I should… Double check, given our personal history. Is Ahri'ahn becoming active again going to be a political problem for you? I mean, I imagine the Second Coming of Jesus would cause ructions in even a moderate Christian country, and this is the man who literally designed you."

"Ahri'ahn-." / "He was-."

Orin and Mera speak at once, and Orin defers to his wife. Whether due to her Atlantean upbringing or her focus on magic I don't know.

"He was never worshipped in Atlantis, and his original works are no longer taught in school. Thaumaturgy has advanced a great deal since his time, and if he has been somewhere on the surface, I.. doubt that he has been able to keep up. One man, no matter how brilliant, cannot equal all of the greatest minds of a civilisation."

I nod. "Alright. Let us know if you hear anything. I've got no reason to believe that he's hostile to Atlantis, but you might want to redouble your defences anyway. I'll-."

"Grayven."

Orin's giving me a stern glare. I smile at him and raise my eyebrows in polite enquiry.

"Yes?"

"How many people did Ahri'ahn kill today?"

"We're not entirely certain yet. A hundred and fifty or thereabouts."

"And how many people do you think Black Manta killed over the years?"

Oh, that's how he's-.

"I don't know. More than that, probably. Though he was more discriminating. And of course, nobody -including Circe herself- knows how many people Circe has killed. And yeah, if Mister Hyde had killed anyone I cared about I'd have killed him and his with absolutely no regrets." I shrug. "I certainly appreciate you pardoning him, but... You didn't have to. You chose pragmatism, and I'm grateful. But unless Ahri'ahn offers the United States government something of massive value, I doubt that they'll make the same decision."

He nods.

"For some reason, I wasn't expecting you to be that direct about it."

"Real politics is realpolitik. I mean, if you could have killed or captured Mister Hyde without my help, you'd have done that, right?"

"Of course."

"And Diana would have gleefully captured Circe and imprisoned her permanently, and as… Far as I'm aware never tried to address her motives. In practical terms then… If Atlantis caught Ahri'ahn, I suppose that would put you in a stronger negotiating position with regard to what happened to him."

I bow.

"Your majesties. Thank you for seeing me at short notice."