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

[Mr Zoat]

11th April 2013
06:36 GMT -7

Applejack regards the bracelet on the table with deep suspicion.

"Y'all're saying that there piece a' fru-fru jewellery can turn one o' them bald monkeys Twilight turned into when she went through the mirror into an earth pony?"

Sunset shakes her head. "No, of course not. Transforming someone from one species to another is a whole lot more complicated. I'm still not really sure how Starswirl's Mirror manages it. Besides, they don't really want to turn into earth ponies."

That last point gets a slight raising of her eyebrow, but she appears willing to let it go.

"So what was that about earth pony magic?"

"The three main pony tribes each have their own innate forms of magic. But what type of magic a pony has is innate; it comes from the differences in their bodies."

"Uh-huh." Applejack thinks for a moment. "So yer sayin' this little thing kin do what it takes a whole earth pony body t'do?"

"No, it can't do that either. What it can do is give someone the strength and endurance of an earth pony whose cutie mark doesn't relate to strength or endurance."

Applejack nods. "Ah kin see how that could come in useful. So where's the pegasus necklace?"

Sunset wing-shrugs. "I can make one, but without wings, you… Wouldn't really be able to fly. And it's kinda hard to do weather work from the ground."

"So, just cloud walkin'?"

"You'd be able to move faster as well, but, yeah. The unicorn version has a similar problem: without a horn, thaumokinesis-. It's hard to control. Even if I built it into a horn-shaped headdress, it's like learning to use a whole new limb."

"But ah guess everypony's got legs."

Sunset nods. "That's the idea." She raises her right forehoof to her chin, frowning thoughtfully. "Though, actually… You should still be able to intuitively use one or two spells based on your special talent, even if you can't use thaumokinesis. Whatever it was, it would be unique to you… And maybe other members of the Apple Family."

"Ah don't need no fancy magic t'be an Apple." Then she thinks for a moment, and bows her head. "But ah guess some kinda tree-doctorin' spell could come in maghty handi."

"I, um…" Sunset looks around the empty Canterlot lecture theatre, then casts a basic privacy spell. "You got my letter, right? You're on the pre-approved list-."

"Ah did."

"And?"

She shrugs awkwardly. "Jes' plain don't feel raght."

Despite the fact that Sunset has proven her ability to turn regular ponies into alicorns, take up on that opportunity hasn't been all that high. And the few ponies who came forwards were so self-absorbed that Sunset had a moment of self-reflection about pony society, but that's about it. I'm assuming that it's some sort of religious thing. Celestia, yes. Celestia having a sister, okay. Cadence, well, she came out of nowhere and Celestia says that they're related, alright. Twilight… I really don't know what Applejack thinks makes Twilight worthy while she isn't.

Or maybe she just doesn't like change.

Sunset lets out a quiet snort. "You saved the planet twice and Equestia about a dozen times. The process isn't inexplicable, and alicornism isn't handed down by some sort of higher power when you jump through enough hoops. It's just magic. Magic I understand."

"Ah don't. An' ah ain't sure I'd be all too keen on outlivin' everypony ah know."

I raise my eyebrows at that. "I'm sure Twilight will be gratified that you've learned from her example."

Applejack wince. "Now, hold on there, partner-."

"Though if it helps at all, I remember reading something that said that even if people didn't age, they still wouldn't live much past eight hundred on average due to the risks of injury and disease." I look to Sunset. "Are alicorns immune to disease?"

"Not totally; we really just have a supercharged version of earth pony resilience. Eight hundred years, huh?"

"That was for humans. Equestria is a bit less perilous. Oh, and how are you doing for ovum?"

"No sign of regeneration. I'll be dry-firing before I'm fifty, while still having a menstrual cycle because I'm not aging."

"We all got together. When we got yer letters." Applejack sighs. "Fluttershah weren't too keen on standing out. Rainbow Dash didn't want to get too big t'be in the Wonderbolts. Said she might say 'yes' eventually. Rarity said somethin' about the artist overshadowin' the art, whatever that means."

I frown. "I thought she wanted to become a princess? Blueblood got publically humiliated dodging her first attempt."

"She got over that real quick. An' Pinkie said she weren't keen on outlivin' her sisters. Ah ain't, neither."

I shake my head. "Pinkie's sisters are about her age. Statistically, she's likely to outlive at least one of them anyway, not counting all of her clones. Of course, the obvious solution is to use the spell on her sisters as well."

"'bawt-." Applejack's eyes widen, then she gulps. "'bawt a hundred alicorn Pinkie Pies?"

Ah…

She… Does sort of have a point, there.

The door to the auditorium opens, and Tempest… Stands there, looking around imperiously. I find myself checking her restored horn. Initially, Sunset and I both thought that it would be simpler to just make her an alicorn, but Celestia had concerns about Equestria having an Alicorn of War. Instead, we recovered her horn point from the cave near her home village and -after getting a lot of scans of other ponies' horns- performed a gradual restoration. She's actually a great patient: after getting her heart's desire, she wasn't going to do something stupid like rushing her recovery.

The guards are torn between enjoying the relative holiday and dreading what she'll be able to do to them once she's fully fit and returns to duty.

Tempest's eyes rest on Applejack. "Why is she here?"

Sunset smiles at her. "We needed a volunteer to demonstrate what an unmarked earth pony athlete could do."

I nod. "And we'll be-."

There's a burst of teal light as Starlight Glimmer teleports into the designated alcove, and a gust of air as Lightning Dust swoops in over her superior. Tempest raises her head to give the pegasus pony an unimpressed look, which Dust is too busy looking at the new toys to notice. Tempest gives her mane a small toss, then walks down the central aisle to take a seat near the front.

With her away from the door, the rest of the audience begin filtering in. Guard officers, teachers and researchers from the School, and-

BOOM!

-members of the American security services who have just about kept their cool while surrounded by cute colourful ponies.

Yes, I did see that. Yes, I am going to put a picture on the staff notice board.

A flash of purple light as Twilight appears, Spike on her back.

"Phew! Not late."

Spike rolls his eyes. "Twilight, you set five different alarm clocks."

I trot off the stage, passing Starlight as she heads up to be the 'unathletic, non-earth pony' for the demonstration. I'm on safety duty just in case something goes wrong during the strength trials, but that shouldn't be necessary.

Sunset comes to the front of the stage.

"Thank you for coming, everyone. Please take your seats, and I'll begin the demonstration."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th April 2013
19:12 GMT +5:30

I don't know if India had any kind of genetics database before the Broadcast, but it definitely doesn't have one now. Closed circuit television cameras are also limited to wealthier areas. There are no road cameras at all, Indian road safety being the worst in the world. It would be like installing smoke detectors in Hell. The base did have cameras, but they've been destroyed, as has the server they transmitted back to.

"Orange Lantern to Watchtower. Given what I'm seeing in India, I'm going to suggest that it might be worth taking at least some strategic weapons out of peoples' hands until their countries are functioning properly. India lost at least one nuclear bomb under a week ago and I only found out today because someone detonated it."

"Understood." Batman this time. "Continue your investigation. Watchtower out."

"Should we be doing that?" Kara floats alongside me, scanning the ground with her eyes for anything that might be warded against my ring. "That sounds like stealing."

"It's more like finding a wallet on the street and taking it to the nearest police station. Imagine what the one that went off earlier would have done if we hadn't been there."

She purses her lips for a moment, then nods. "It wasn't much fun watching human bodies catch fire like that."

"You could see-? Oh.. gosh, Kara, I didn't realise."

"I know it only lasted a fraction of a second and they probably didn't feel anything, but my memory is really good. I'm always going to remember it. People just evaporating." She pauses for a moment. "Do you think it was like that on Krypton?"

"U-um." I only really know what killed the people of Krypton in broad terms. Specific causes of death? Pressure waves? Radiation? Most of Krypton's mass stayed in roughly the same place, but the air might have been thin enough to cause them to die from suffocation. Blunt trauma from pieces of flying planet? "I.. can't be sure."

"I assumed that was how my parents died. The ground shook for a moment, then 'poof', gone. It's a shame they couldn't build a bigger ship."

"Yes-yes, it.. was."

I float closer to her, trying to get some sort of idea-. Her voice didn't waver, her expression didn't change, and… I'm not seeing anything in particular with empathic vision. Even if she was using black humour after having processed her grief, she should-.

Or maybe she hasn't at all and she's not responding physically because she's having some sort of flashback. I cautiously lay my right hand on her shoulder.

"Ah, are-?"

Kara blinks, returning her vision to normal as she turns her head to look at me. "Are we not searching for clues?"

"I was-. You.. were talking about something really personal and horrible and I was concerned."

"Was I not supposed to?"

"Nono, you.. can. If you want to, if you feel that you need to."

She blinks, turns to look at my hand on her shoulder than turns her head back to me. "Were you going to hug me?"

"I.. was going to offer to, if-."

Kara's arms blur as she wraps them around me, chin on my left shoulder and head pressed against mine. "Yay, hugs! They're the thing about Earth I like the most!"

I hug her back, still concerned. I know that our Krypton was anti-tactility, but I didn't realise that was true for her Krypton as well. I'd just sort of assumed that hers was more pre-Crisis than that.

"Kara, if you ever want to talk about your family, or Krypton in general, or anything like that, I'm happy to do that. Okay?"

"Why would I do that?" She pulls away slightly, her face a few inches from mine. "They're all dead. Ooh!"

She darts down to the ground, into the scrub outside of the base, then flies back up with… Part of the bomb casing.

"I spotted this! This is the casing, right?"

I take it from her hands with a construct grapple, and start examining it in detail. "Yes.. it.. is. Well done."

Alright, they wouldn't really need an outer casing designed to not impede the airflow around the plane, but it still seems that it would be easier to leave it on. The wards are… Yes, the same Atlantean design that gained popularity in America, rather than something out of Hindu traditions. Someone copying what they saw somewhere else? I don't think that Lady Eve would do something like that, for the sake of her pride if nothing else. But it's not like I can claim to know the woman after one short conversation.

Finger print analyser? Partial prints acquired. Eliminate the prints from the corpses. Three-. Well, probably three sets. It's not like they wiped the casing down with alcohol and then carefully pressed their fingers against it. Hundreds of people have probably touched this over the years. File it just in case. No blood, no, that would be too easy. Skin samples? Yes, some of which are from people on the base and…

Okay, two have genetics that I wouldn't expect to see in an Indian. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but I'll bear it in mind-.

Scan.

No, nothing. Alright, that's a bit more promising. Unless it was a suicide bombing, in which case that's because most of their genetic material was vaporised.

Bleez's ship zooms through the sky, coming in to hover over the base. "Found anything?"

"Some things. Not enough to actually learn anything."

Too many footprints in too many different directions to learn anything about who went where when. Same with vehicles. Sure, I can read tyre tracks, and I can eliminate the ones from military vehicles already at the base, but so what? Nothing stops Kobra agents acquiring military vehicles, especially now. Nothing stops a soldier driving their own car to work, at least as far as the outer gate. Or getting picked up by someone else. What was it Terry Pratchett wrote? 'The scream in the night was most likely to be someone stepping on an upturned hairbrush'? Lots of data and little actual information.

On.. the other hand… If the warhead design is standard -and it should be- then… All we need to do is-.

"Orange Lantern to Watchtower. Uploading preliminary findings. Request a few minutes of Doctor Mist's time to track any outstanding bombs via their warded cases."

"Do humans steal fusion bombs a lot?"

"No. And this is the first time that someone has successfully detonated a stolen bomb."

"He's available."

I generate a zeta tube. "Send him through."

"Recognised, Doctor Mist, Two Five."

Dr. Balewa walks through, raising his head to look at Bleez's ship with a slight raising of his eyebrows. I drop down, holding out the case to him and generating a map of India with the 'official' nuclear explosive locations marked.

"I'm looking for more of these in the wrong places."

He nods, waving his right hand at the case and then again at the map.

"There." Part of the map construct ripples. "But I do not think thet it is a bomb. I belief thet it is a settlement of some kind."

"Then that's where we're going next."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th April 2013
19:19 GMT +5:30

And that's a gunfight.

Mostly the old reliable AK-47, but a few sandbag fortifications have crew served machine guns and the combatants aren't shy about using grenades.

As I watch one woman takes a trio of bullets across her torso while throwing a grenade into an enemy fire team. She falls, and a shrapnel blast later so do they.

I have no idea who is fighting or why. They could be Kobra, but it's not like most of them go around with clearly identifiable tattoos or armbands. Mapping the area-.

"Hey, could you-" Kara is now carrying the woman in one hand and one of the men she grenadiered in the other. "-heal them?"

"Sure." / "I will-."

Dr. Balewa looks mildly puzzled as bullets and shrapnel are sucked out of wounds and bleeding is stopped. Scanning them with the default scan gets me nothing, but MRI and ultrasound still work just fine, as does power ring flesh melding. Still, it's the pain of the initial injury that rendered them unconscious, and my experience tells me that-.

Kara pulls the woman up to her face level. "Hey! Are you okay?!"

"U-gh?" The woman's eyes snap open, recoils at seeing Kara's beaming face, reaches up to her own chest to feel for bullet wounds that aren't there any longer and then starts to get a grip.

Then she sees the man in Kara's other hand, and goes for her pistol. Which is no longer there, because I'm not an idiot.

"I respect your eagerness, but now is the time to use your reason instead of your passion. Why are you-?"

"Could you-" Kara's looking at me. "-hold these guys for a minute?"

I take hold of them using construct restraint beds, binding them chest, arms, legs and head. "Sure. What-?"

She blurs away and then reappears with another wounded man in each hand.

"Can you-?"

"Just keep them coming."

"Can do!"

Well, sort of. I can't actually keep up with her full speed delivery service, but I don't delay her by much as she removes every single wounded person from the battleground below us, doing a good enough job that the remaining combatants opt to hunker down rather than continue and risk her displeasure.

Which is great, but it doesn't really help us.

"So, clearly whatever's happening down there won't be happening for much longer. And I think it's probably in your interests to get your lies in before whoever you're fighting gets their lies in. And please try to keep it at least vaguely plausible."

"I live here. They attacked us over minor religious differences. I would not expect you to understand."

"I don't like to boast about it, but Europe did spend about three hundred years continually at war over minor differences in Christian theology, so I'd give me a reasonable chance of getting it."

"It is about the significance of the… Evil presence."

"The Anti-Life broadcast?"

"If that is what you call it."

"It's what the people who made it call it. Want to tell me what the two sides believe about it?"

"One side believes that the evil presence was supposed to mark the end of the age of Kali Yuga, and the rebirth of the universe into the age of Krita Yuga. And that someone prevented it."

"And the other side?"

"Doesn't know. We try to divine its meaning, but they will not wait."

"So, you're Kobra and you're talking about Lady Eve-" She twitches and tries to inexpertly cover it up. "-trying to keep hold of the organisation. Do the others actually work for Jeff, or is this some sort of internal thing?"

She just shakes her head and clams up.

"You know that I don't actually have to take any of you in, right? You're a proscribed group. I have to accept your surrender if you offer it, but otherwise I can gun down every single one of you."

Kara waves her right forefinger at me. "But you won't because that's wrong."

"It's very hard to nuke people when you're dead. Not impossible, but hard."

Bleez's ship deploys some sort of rotary particle cannon. "I can do it."

Kara slowly turns her head upwards, eyes glo-.

"Kara! Kara, back to me. Back to me. Bleez, thank you, no. If I need to kill anyone-"

Kara is facing me, but her eyes are still glowing a little. "Which you don't, because that's wrong."

"-I'll do it myself, and Kara, we're going to review interrogation techniques after this. I think you'll make a great Good Cop-"

"Thank you!"

"-but you need to give the Bad Cop room to work as well."

"If you let them be Bad, then you're Bad too."

She nods affirmatively, but at least her eyes have dimmed. The woman is just sort of staring at us.

"Sorry about that. While I can kill you, legally speaking, I probably won't, but I might stick you and your friends on a barely habitable planet and forget about you. Or mind control you. So it really is in your interests to be forthcoming with me."

"I am not afraid to return to the wheel. Nor am I afraid of leaving a corrupt world to make a better one with my own labours."

"Doctor Mist and I were there when the Earth was purged of the Anti-Life. Heck, I'm the one who masterminded its removal. And while I'm fairly sure that we could arrest everyone down there, that wouldn't do anything to shut down the rest of Kobra. So let's have a civil theological discussion, hm?"

"If-. I can.. ask Lady Eve to meet with you."

"Neat. And you wouldn't know anything about anyone stealing fission bombs, would you?"

"No. Lady Eve has suspended active operations."

Not sure I believe her, but it's plausible. A Kobra splinter faction wants to establish itself, so it does something big to run up the flag. I suppose that it doesn't matter right now.

"Alright. I'm sending you down. And I've got a nice desert world picked out if you don't follow through. Good luck!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th April 2013
19:23 GMT +5:30

Bleez's ship ascends into the upper atmosphere on autopilot while its owner studies the ground beneath us. And the giant pile of restraint racks I've fabricated for the belligerents.

"Who are these people?"

"That's… How much of that cultural briefing material I sent you did you actually read?"

"Most of it. I focused on the different political structures, because I… I'd like to find something that would work for us. Thanagar."

"Oh. Good. I was halfway convinced that you were just handing it all over to the intelligence analysts."

"They got copies too, but I did read it. I just didn't read about… These people."

"These people are part of a Hindu sect called 'thuggees'. Essentially, they believe that materialism diminishes the soul, so they destroy things that people value in order to liberate them from their own attachments. Specifically, they're part of the Kobra denomination of the thuggees, which means that they don't just limit themselves to individual spiritual liberation through destruction, but they believe that they can… Sort of flip the universe over into a… Higher, more glorious state if they destroy enough."

"What would that be like?"

"We poor creatures of the most diminished state of the universe could not comprehend it. But an improvement, of some sort."

"And is that true?"

"No, of course not. Reality inversions take far more effort than just destroying a load of stuff. Plus, the people involved have to be able to picture clearly what they're trying to achieve, which wouldn't be the case here. Definitionally couldn't be the case, if you think about it."

Her eyes go wide as they lock onto me, her wing posture-. She's not getting ready to lunge, she's getting ready to fly away.

"What do you mean by 'reality inversion'?"

"It's a bit like changing history through time travel, except you do it at one point in time and it changes everything into anything."

"Orange Lantern?" Dr. Mist strolls over, having finished examining the wards defending this place. "I think thet you should stop talking."

"The point is that they're basically just nuts, but enough crazy people being crazy in the same way can do a lot of damage." I turn towards the sound of footsteps with a grin. "And speaking of crazy!"

Lady Eve herself doesn't look anything special. The guards behind her are wearing the sort of clearly coloured uniforms that I'd honestly thought that minions had abandoned in the eighties, though it is armoured and the helmet does contain flash protection and an infrared mode. The tattoo-covered magician behind them is flashing the occasional nervous look at Dr. Balewa, because while Kobra magicians can strike above their weight class in Western countries due to the lack of opposition none of them are world-class.

Is this it?

I know that I wound up the much better resourced League of Shadows in an afternoon, but… Given that Jeff managed to make a decent fight of it back in Belle Reve, I sort of assumed that their home base would do better as well. Then again, if the infighting has been bad…

"The Life Wizard and the World Mender. What has brought you here?"

Dr. Balewa and I make eye contact with one another, and I bow my head a little. He is the Justice League member, even if there's… No real enforcement either way at the moment.

"You are Lady Eve? Head of Kobra?"

"I am Lady Eve. But Kobra has splintered."

"I understood thet loyalty to Mister Burr was a little stronger in other parts of the world. I did not think thet you had trouble here."

"They looked to me for answers, but I have none. Our prophesised saviour failed, and became just another power-hungry bandit."

I vaguely remember a comic where they started over with his brother, but… I don't want to suggest that.

"Why would they attack you, then? Why not leaf?"

"Sacred scripture is only shared with those who have proven their devotion. They think that I have some knowledge that I am keeping from them." She shakes her head. "I do not."

"Then what was your plen?"

"I planned to wait, observe, pray… I would hope that something revealed itself in time."

Dr. Balewa nods. "Were you able to shield yourself from the Anti-Life Broadcast?"

"No. And even if we could, we would not. It is cowardly to hide from suffering. We embrace it as we learn to reject temporal pleasure."

Kara perks up slightly. "Like Job!"

Lady Eve's eyes narrow slightly, but then she just sort of.. gives up on her sneer. "No, not like Job. The Book of Job is about the rightfulness of obedience to a higher power. We seek to elevate ourselves by becoming more than this weak flesh."

"I belief you also wish to bring an end to the period you call Kali Yuga."

"For the betterment of all."

"And to do thet, you must make the world as bad as it can be."

"There is more to it than that. But in essence, yes."

Dr. Balewa affects a puzzled expression, shaking his head. "And… What is it thet you imagine thet there is thet is worse than the Anti-Life?"

Oh, that's kind of clever. I'm not sure that she's on his wavelength. In organisations like Kobra, sometimes even the leaders have drunk the kool-aid. We've got no reason to assume that she ever went beyond 'suffering = good, follow the prophecy for maximum goodness'… But I suppose that if we're not just killing her right away…

"I have never experienced something worse."

"And, did you feel the energy as we ended the Anti-Life?"

"Yes."

"Then… What do you imagine thet the transition from one age into another feels like?"

"I-." She stares at him, and the other Kobra people are staring too. "I don't understand."

"Did you not picture what it would be like to live in the new age?" He raises his right hand, a small white sigil floating over it and even I feel it, the essence of existence. "Did you not feel the wave of spirit pass over the world?"

She gulps. "I.. did."

"You are a creature of the former, corrupted age. But for eh moment, you saw what it was like to be something else. Would you like to feel thet again?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th April 2013
20:47 GMT +5:30

She would. Quite a lot, as it happens.

The soldiers of the Indian S.A.S. don't hesitate, shooting members of the Kobra breakaway group dead rather than bothering to take them into custody. The Indian government was perfectly aware of the nuclear detonation and had been scrambling for a response when I dropped by to explain things to them.

Bleez watches the scene calmly. "This is more like what I was expecting."

"Oh?"

"The Empire's government has been making a big deal of hunting down all of the Seven Devil cultists. I didn't even know we had gibbets."

Kara's back with Dr. Balewa and Lady Eve, guarding him while he keeps trying to talk them around to his way of seeing things. I don't personally believe in the Hindu epoch cycle… In fact, I don't think that it can be true, based on what I know about how magic works. But they do, and he can sort of connect what they believe to reality.

"They're not that hard to make."

I generate a construct digger and scoop up enough earth for a burial pit. I think Kobra-devotees prefer cremation, but if they wanted me to care then they shouldn't have helped their brethren acquire, prime and transport a nuclear bomb. The soldiers who had been going to fetch shovels wave their thanks and start throwing the bodies in the hole.

"I don't understand why you're treating Lady Eve differently. She's their leader, right?"

"One of them. And yes, I'm sure that she's been directly and indirectly responsible for a lot of deaths."

She keeps watching the disposal of the bodies, wingtips blurring to vent stress. "So why aren't you killing them?"

"Because Doctor Mist has command. Because we don't know where everyone in their organisation is and persuading her to tell us is easier that doing a neural trawl. Because if she spends the rest of her life doing productive work then she might work off a tiny part of her debt to civilisation. Because we could really do with the manpower. Because I'm interested to see if anyone else can use the sort of magic that Doctor Mist does."

"On Thanagar… We'd just kill them. On Havania, too."

"And I'm not completely sure that you'd be wrong to." I shrug as I pour the earth back over the impromptu grave. "I hope you would be… But I don't know."

"That's not a Thanagarian way of handling things." She raises her right arm to point at the soldiers who are marching back to their transport vehicles. "That is. Aren't these guys, like, basically your Seven Devil cultists?"

"No. The Seven Devils are very real and actively involve themselves in their worshippers affairs as much as they can. Kobra members are just violent criminals, with no more supernatural backing than anyone can get." Speaking of… "How is Vulcan getting on?"

"My mother wasn't sure about having him as a guest. And I was like, 'Mother, he's a god' and she just went on about him being a magical alien… It was a whole thing. And then he proved that he can make Nth Metal and suddenly she's a whole lot more polite."

"Can he teach people?"

"I don't think the government wants him to have acolytes? They're just taking a bunch of readings to see if they can copy what he does with technology. I don't really know how it's going."

"I'm glad to hear that he's getting on well." Hm. "You should probably have told your mother where you were going."

Her head jerks around, eyes narrowing. "No, I shouldn't."

"Oh?"

"If I told anyone, they'd be a record of what I said. I don't want to be-. I don't want him to make me his concubine, ugh, but if he knows someone else knows where I am then they're a target too."

"Is the fact that you're from Havania a secret?"

"No? But what's the point in going there if I'm not there and no one knows where I am?"

"Your mother's not an idiot, Bleez. She's already had her security people go over the footage of your concert, and she knows that you've been communicating with me." She pulls her wings in slightly. "The constructs of Sinestro Corpsmen are catalysed by fear. And if your homeworld was ravaged, occupied, your mother and other friends taken prisoner, tortured… That would mean more fear, and stronger constructs for him. And given the sort of person that I suspect Sinestro is recruiting-."

The tips of her wings are vibrating fast enough to hum.

"Do you want me to comm Sinestro and ask him what's going on directly?"

"B… And… And he can just order the guy to get lost?"

"He can. Though I suspect that if he does it's more because he doesn't like his minions slacking off rather than out of any actual moral considerations."

"And what else might he do? I don't want to make things worse."

"He might attack Havania immediately. I don't know how big his Corps is yet or if he's planning on doing anything with the Thanagarian Empire. I am completely confident of my ability to kill a regular Sinestro Corpsman. I'm not confident of my ability to kill him, and most of my support is on the other side of the galaxy. Normally, I could put together a team on Earth, but we're all a bit busy at the moment."

"Then what-. Where should I go?"

"Tamaran is an option. So is J. I could drop you off on Maltus, though you'd have trouble getting back on your own."

"J?"

"It's a plant world. Nice enough place. Bit weird. Sort of like Alstair without the political awkwardness. I.. should probably check up on them at some point."

"Could they fight Sinestro?"

"Gosh no."

"How about Tamaran?"

"Maybe, if the stars aligned. Two Orange Lanterns over there, as well as a high-tier human psychic and some fairly sophisticated space fleets. And a couple of physical gods, but I've got no idea how to get them to do anything."

"I don't-. What do you think I should-?"

I frown for a moment, then look at my left hand. "Ring, call Sinestro."

"Calling."

"Wait, what?"

"The Sinestro Corps gets stronger the more afraid of them you are. So don't be afraid."

Sinestro's full body image appears in front of us.

"Illustres. I trust that you have things in hand."

"Yes, your ring worked perfectly, thank you. No more Anti-Life on Earth."

His expression doesn't really change. "Interesting. It may be worth considering long-term cooperation where Apokolips is concerned."

"Honestly, I'd be happy to cooperate generally. But perhaps that's a bit much. The other reason why I'm calling is-"

Send image.

"-this chap. Now, I realise that I don't know exactly what sort of discipline you've got your people working under, but I'd be surprised to learn that they were supposed to be stalking popular musicians."

His eyes narrow. "They are not. I will… Have a rather sharp word."

I smile at him. "Thank you, I appreciate it. Illustres out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th April 2013
20:20 GMT +5:30

There's a brief flare of light as Princess Celestia appears, making tired eye contact with me for a moment before taking her place in one of the extra-large seats I replaced part of the auditorium seating with. There are a lot fewer ponies here than there were last time I raised this topic. And far fewer than there were earlier today for Sunset's demonstration, and not just because the humans are getting a guided tour from volunteers from the Foreign Office.

But it's still not a small audience. And not just because I put an advertisement in the entertainment section of the local newspaper for a 'live action horror show'. Hopefully these ponies will have stronger stomachs, and if not then the ketamine drones are still on standby.

Twilight glances at her mentor for a moment, then looks away, head down and ears flat.

"Thank you everyone for coming." Starlight beams as she comes to the edge of the stage. "For those of you unfamiliar with my work -and don't worry, we don't lock the doors until after the-"

One green-grey stallion at the back chuckles twice, and then stops when no one else joins in.

"-introduction- my name is Starlight Glimmer. My work is on the subject of special talents, cutie marks, and the link between them." A few of the horror fans look a little disgruntled. "And what happens if either one is removed."

They perk up, while the actual researchers and journalists twitch instead.

Starlight's horn glows as she rotates a blackboard, revealing the complex thaumaturgical notation.

"Using Professor Sunset-" Sunset grins smugly. "-Shimmer's work on Equestrian thaumaturgy, I was able to isolate the parts of a pony's natural magics which correspond to their cutie mark. As yet I have not been able to isolate those parts of a pony's magic which correspond to their special talent prior to their cutie mark's emergence as that would require performing field experiments on foals while hoping that the equipment doesn't interrupt their manifestation."

And trust me, the difficulty in experimenting was the reason why, not the foal thing. I'm starting to think that Starlight could have gone down a very unfortunate path if she hadn't run into me.

"So today we're going to remove a volunteer's cutie mark and see what happens!"

The horror fans are enthralled, and one of the better educated ones has a notepad out as he tries to follow her equations.

The doors at the rear of the auditorium open and a large brown earth pony with a messy brown mane and a white nose carefully walks in. He hesitates for a moment at the gaze of the audience, then draws himself up a little and walks down the-.

Something on the stage beeps, and Starlight picks up a purple healing ray in her thaumokinetic grip.

-stairs, only for the edge of his hoof catches on something and he trips, doing a full forwards roll onto his head before rolling down to the bottom of the steps. He actually ends up on his feet, swaying slightly, everyone staring at him. And it's then that I see his cutie mark: an upside down horseshoe.

Starlight shoots him with the healing ray.

"This is Mister Trouble Shoes. His special talent -as far as we can tell- is being unlucky. Almost everything he touches is destroyed moments later, and he himself is subjected to accidents like the one which you just witnessed almost every day. I've had physicians perform test to assess his physical and mental acuity, and he has the same hoof-eye coordination capacity as you and me. My thaumic detection array has picked up a minute surge in his cutie mark related magic just before every event."

"He is being sabotaged by his own cutie mark. Mister Trouble Shoes, please come up on stage."

I just float him up, just to be on the safe side, as Starlight stows her purple healing ray.

"As a result of his cutie mark sabotaging him, Mister Trouble Shoes has an extensive -if relatively trivial- criminal record. Five counts of common assault. A hundred and twenty six of criminal damage. Two of destroying a water course. I'd like to thank the Crown for issuing him a pardon for things over which he clearly had no control." She indicates a point on the stage. "Please stand there, side-on from the audience."

He complies with the care of a serial Jonah which Starlight starts wiring him up to the thaumic detection array.

"Originally, I intended to do a before and after demonstration, but I think Mister Trouble Shoes' tumble covers the 'before' part."

She flicks a switch, and various thaumic readouts come alive.

"As you can see, it's currently inactive. But I think Mister Trouble Shoes has suffered for long enough."

A tug of turquoise magic, and the sheet is lifted from a lump of crystal sitting on a table.

"The current version of the spell uses a crystal storage medium to both hold the cutie mark and special talent. This both anchors them away from the host, and.. allows them to be returned if something goes wrong. The spell itself is relatively complex, and I don't think that the current version can be made simple enough for wide scale use."

A couple of relieved sighs from the front benches, while Starlight gives Trouble Shoes a reassuring look.

"Are you ready?"

"Ma'am, ah've been ready since ah gaht this curse."

"Al-right then." Starlight sits back, horn flickering with turquoise light and her eyes totally focused. "Three… Two… Casting."

There's a pulse of turquoise light, and then both of Trouble Shoe's cutie marks flicker as the thaumaturgical readouts go… Uuh, it looks wild but I'm not an expert. And then they cut out completely as the cutie marks peel away from his haunches and float over to… And in to the crystal. It blinks once more and then stops, floating in the middle.

There's a sort of gasp from the back of the room, and someone in the middle grabs the complimentary sick bag before… Making enthusiastic use of it.

Starlight relaxes, her horn dimming as she looks as Trouble Shoes' haunches. They're blank, no sign that a mark was ever there.

"And there we go. No more evil cutie mark controlling your destiny." She smiles at him. "How do you feel?"

"A little light-headed, ma'am. Ah've wanted that thing gone so long, ah don't rightly know what t'do next."

"Anything you want. That's the whole point." She glances at the readouts, still showing nothing. "Now, we need to check that your 'talent' is inactive." Her horn glows, and a full length mirror floats over to him. He examines it nervously for a moment.

Nothing happens.

"Would you please try holding it?"

"'re you sure, ma'am? That looks expensive?"

"Oh, I'm sure."

He sits, taking hold of the mirror in his forehooves. Nothing from the monitors.

"Ain't had a good look at mah own face fer years now."

"You won't have to worry about that any longer. Now." She turns back to the audience. "I've had several volunteers from Canterlot Penitentiary who received crime-adjacent cutie marks which have driven them to a life of criminality. I'll have them do simple before and after demonstrations, and feed back to you all on their observed behavioural changes at weekly intervals."

I lean a little closer to Luna. "Still think she's crazy?"

She breathe out slowly, eyes locked onto Trouble Shoes' haunches.

"Think? No."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Codominion

12th April 2013
08:33 GMT -5:00

"…wings like the lady outside?"

I shake my head as I remodel my latest patient's immune system. He had H.I.V., and without access to antiretroviral therapy drugs it was only a matter of time until things start getting really serious.

"I'm sorry, but she was born with those." Though-. "I can't do that type of wings without access to a type of rare magical metal, and the only person on Earth I know who can do it with lab-grown wings… The only woman he gave wings to needed to give up an arm so that he'd have somewhere to plug the nerves into her brain."

Ms. Parish wasn't one of the ones whose implants were 'reclaimed' by the Un-Titan, though she'd clearly not forgotten my part in that debacle last time we spoke. Cranius is a lot more sanguine about Uncorps' recent losses; most third generation Un-Men are such psychological basket cases anyway that the Anti-Life barely slowed them down. And the first and second generation have suffered so much already that it was basically just 'business as usual'.

"I'll… Keep my arms." He glances at my assistant. "And what's with her?"

**I wait for you to bleed.**

I close my eyes for a moment as the as yet unnamed G-Magtatangal next to me tilts 'her' head to the side, almost offended that there's nothing for her to do. G-Magtatangal are Dubbilex's latest attempt to be helpful; a genomorph type that can perform chirurgery. Unfortunately their specialised nature means that they're… Not good conversationalists, and since the genomorphs are producing as many of them as they can there aren't enough G-Pooka to go around.

"She's best at handing physical injuries."

My patient looks a little nervous. "Is she an alien?"

"She was grown on Earth. Her DNA originally came from krypton, then got modified a lot."

My patient's eyes widen. "She's kryptonian?"

"One of her ancestors was the kryptonian version of a rhinoceros."

He looks at her, his mouth slightly open. G-Magtatangals have downwards curving horns for a better telekinetic sense and can secrete biological anaesthetic, antiseptic and glue for sealing injuries from their disturbingly claw-like claws. Those can be used as chirurgical scalpels, syringes or just for grasping and pulling. Despite the fact that he referred to her in the feminine there's nothing obviously female about her physique, though her mental voice has a definite feminine sound to it.

"Huh."

"So, if there's nothing else..?"

"Can you do, like..? Super teeth?" He shrugs. "I get medicine's more important, but dentists aren't easy to get hold of either."

He's got a point, but…

"Teeth are a living part of your body. I could add some sort of super-tough coating, but anything else would involve fiddling with your body in ways I haven't studied."

"Sounds good." He opens his mouth slightly, as if I need direct access.

"Would you like to pick a colour?"

"Ah… I'll stick with white,-"

"Done."

"-thanks..?" He closes his mouth and runs his tongue around his teeth. "Feels..? A little bit different. So..?"

"I evened up their placement and structure, fixed the pre-existing damage, shrank them a little and added a layer of white everything-resistant armour over the top of the enamel layer. You'll still need to either brush or avoid sugar completely to maintain good gum health because if your gums recede then the lower unimproved parts of your teeth will get exposed."

He nods. "Sure, sure."

"Also -and this should go without saying- but they're still teeth. Don't try and bit through anything you wouldn't normally try and bit through, especially live electronics."

"I-. Okay, I wasn't gunna. But..? What would happen?"

"The top part of the tooth won't crack anymore, but the lower part can and will and then you'll be in a lot of pain and need to get the tooth removed. Same issue with electricity, only then rather than your teeth exploding your skull will melt. I mean, it's a serious injury either way, I just don't want you to think that you're Matter-Eater Lad or anything?"

"Ye-." He frowns. "Who?"

"Superhero from the future whose power is that he can eat anything without injuring himself. He can bite through a kryptonian's skin like it's made of marshmallow, and swallow molten iron without incident."

"…" He blinks. "That's messed up."

I nod. "Some powers can be pretty situational. Anything else?"

"No, I'm good." He offers me his right hand. "Thanks."

I shake it with a smile. "You're welcome. Ah, and while you can't contract H.I.V. again-."

"I'm not immune to anything else. I haven't forgotten." He nods and heads out of the door.

An interesting idea, that. My teeth are peak human, rather than anything particularly exotic. I've bitten the interior of my mouth far too often to want x-ionised teeth or anything like that. Lamprey had runes etched into his teeth, but I don't think-.

Karon knocks, then opens the door and sticks her head around it. "Are you ready for another patient?"

"Yes, bring them-"

She pushes the door open and-

"Hmpf!"

"-in."

Cranius walks in, or rather Otto does with Cranius perched on his shoulders. Cranius glowers at me, though his face softens for a moment when he takes in the G-Magtatangal.

I stand back up. "Doctor von Schadel. What brings you here?"

"Zo I understand zhet you are modifying people. Is zhis true?"

"In a few minor ways, yes."

"I do not belief zhet is legal."

"Yeah, but the government is barely functional so they're not in any position to stop me. It's… The only good thing about being a failed state." I shrug. "And what are they going to do, demand that people gouge their eyes out?"

"Unt your..? Colleagues?"

"They've got better things to do than stop someone consensually healing people. The world would have to be a very different place for the Justice League to spend time enforcing FDA regulations… At least, where there wasn't some substantial harm being inflicted. How did you even get here?"

"I am heffing difficulty contacting our government overseers in zhe Department of Energy, and thought zhat a personal appearance may work. But now… I em wondering whezher or not I want to."

"Well… Tell me what you've got planned."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd December 2282
09:02 GMT

Well. At least Pevensey Castle is still there.

If anything, I think that the walls had been built up a little. And the thing is… I'm not sure why. I don't have records on how the Resource Wars played out in Europe, because most of my sources are American and at that point they'd stopped bothering with Europe and the Middle East both and were only really worrying about their internal affairs and the threat from China. Britain and its neighbours had nuclear weapons, but in my original timeline they never built anything like as many as the United States and by the time I was born Britain had scrapped everything apart from Trident.

So who was fighting? When? Why? The North Sea oil fields would have been worth fighting over, for a while at least. I'm not sure exactly where they are -or perhaps were- but I suppose that would be a source of conflict. But landing troops on the mainland wouldn't get you access to them: they're off shore by definition. Britain's got coal, but so do Germany and France, and their mines would be more accessible for everyone on mainland Europe. Britain's geography means that we've got a little of almost everything… But not a lot of anything very much. Certainly I can't think of anything natural resource wise that would be worth landing troops and supporting an occupation army over.

Looking down on Britain from above, I can't see that many nuclear impacts. A few, yes, but quite a lot of infrastructure is still in one piece, even in the major cities. London is nothing like as damaged as Washington, even if the saucer's sensors are picking up elevated levels of radiation in a few places. Small bombs, perhaps? I'm a bit disappointed that despite the lack of an ideological conflict European nations used the same salted nukes as America and China, but maybe that was just the standard design in this timeline?

Major roadways are still in use, with none of the abandoned cars that characterise American motorways. No nuclear batteries replacing petrol here. There are a few abandoned… Steam lorries? Huge things, presumably designed for the efficient transportation of goods and people. A few of them are still in use, and I can see convoys billowing plumes of smoke in several places. Horse drawn vehicles are more common, which makes sense given the shorter supply lines required in a broken nation. Trains… Aren't running outside of the cities, though the fact that they're running anywhere at all is fairly impressive. Looks like they're all electrical.

Where to start? Somewhere isolated would be best, and… Without anti-air weapons and radar. I could try talking to the government in Westminster, or… I'm tempted to drop in on someone closer to-.

Closer to home, I was going to think.

Oh, I'm going to-. Rattle Road didn't get that name as a mere reference to history, the house I grew up in is far older than whatever caused the nuclear war. I direct the saucer to fly lower, mentally kicking myself even as I try to identify any landmarks that I might recognise, knowing that it's a foolish thing to do but needing to anyway.

I went to school there.

Reception class, with Missus Sykes. The rest of the school is… Different. The portacabins that served as the majority of.. the…

I can still see where the school pool used to be.

The pool itself has long since decayed to nothing, but the brick changing rooms and the paving stones covering the area close to what is still the main road…

The portacabins are gone, but the older brick-built parts of the school are still there. St. Mary's church still stands, two hundred years and a nuclear war nothing to a building that had already stood for nine hundred years.

I, ah…

I…

No. My parents might have been alive before things started diverging from the history I remember, but it wouldn't take… It wouldn't take much for them to just not meet. And there's basically no chance that any descendants live in this area. Even if they do, I doubt that they'll have the genealogical records for the last three hundred years that would prove how closely related we are.

But… But it doesn't hurt to knock.

Huh. Looks like they never built that weird roundabout in this timeline. The house… Some of the windows have had their glass replaced by smaller panes held together with lead cames. Easier to manufacture than larger panels, and cheaper as a result.

Leave the ship in stealth, or have it float openly?

I think… Stealth, for now. Openly displaying it is something I can leave for when I need to establish my affidavits. I fly it over to the strangely round cul-de-sac close to-. Close by the house, and clamber out of the saucer. I suppose… Given that the EU invaded the Middle East in 2052, I shouldn't be surprised if I started recognising more things. Honestly, I should be more surprised that Britain was still in the EU in 2052. Is that where the conflict came from? Other European nations blaming our lack of support for their defeat? It was the Middle East. What did you expect to happen?

I jump down and start walking. Down the slope, noting that the metal railing has been replaced by wood and that the brickwork has been repaired. Down the road, noting that there aren't any people around. I hadn't really given much thought to what the area's original industry was. I imagine that manpower-intense farming has made a comeback, since there's no real way to power tractors. Unless they break out the traction engines, which can be powered by coal. Except, where would they get coal around here?

No traffic, and the driveway is empty.

I walk up to the door, and-. No bell, but-. That's the exact same door knocker. I reach up, tap it against the baseplate twice and then stand back to wait.

I feel the minds inside. Three children and a woman, probably their mother. She's not worried about someone knocking, but-. Ah. That's a little more of that post-apocalyptic mindset. She's picking up a gun before walking to the door, and sliding a chain into the door before opening.

I smile as a blonde woman in her middle years looks at me in the crack between door and frame. "Good morning!" The harder lifestyles and lack of makeup result in people looking older so I find my guesses about how old people are thrown off a bit.

She sighs very quietly, and relaxes her guard a little. "Are you with the Brethren? Because I'm not interested. I wasn't last month and I'm not now."

"Ah, no? I don't actually know who they are."

"How do you not know who the Brethren are?"

"I've been in Nevada for the past few years. This is the first time I've been back…" I shrug. "For a while."

"Where's that?"

"Ah, America. On the West Coast."

"America-?" She blinks in surprise. "Oh, are you a sailor?"

"Pilot." Because the word 'pilot' can also refer to someone who navigates complicated waterways, and because I didn't detect a single flying machine when I over flew the country. Nice that she knew the word, when I've had to explain to even educated people in the United States what 'Britain' is. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I've got no idea what's been happening in Britain lately, and… Ah, well, my family came from this part of the country. I don't know if any still… Live in the area, but if they do then I'd like to trace them. I'm not sure.. where I should go for that…"

"Church records would have lists of Christenings, marriages and deaths. What's your name?"

"Ah, well…" I reach into my robes and pull out a copy of my family tree I prepared in case I wanted to tell someone my actual name, since business cards haven't made a comeback after the apocalypse. "I'd like to track any of those names, but my dad's family came from Ipswich and my mum's family came from Gloucestershire."

She looks at the sheet, frowning. Getting my real name on there took me cutting up newspapers for the letter and then hypnotising myself so that I wouldn't realise why I was assembling them in that order, then asking someone else to transcribe it. I'll be nice to have a country that doesn't know me as a living comic character.

"No, I don't recognise any of these names." She hands the paper back. "I'm.. sorry about that. What made you come looking for them?"

"I'm getting married, and I don't… I'm not in contact with any of my relatives, so my side of the church is going to be a bit empty. Obviously, they wouldn't be able to make the trip to Nevada, but I thought I could bring my wife here to visit when my.. schedule allows it." I shrug disarmingly. Oh well. It was a long shot. "Um. Look, I realise this is an inconvenience, but as I said, I've been out of the country for a while, and I've got no idea what's been happening. I can… Pay for information?"

She frowns. "I'm a dress-maker, not a newsagent."

"Sure, but right now I don't know anything. You know local news?" She nods cautiously. "Then you know more than me."

"Hm." She looks me over. "Are you armed?"

"Oh yes." I tug at my robe so that my plasma pistol is showing. "Two shots, then I reduce myself to penury getting a new fuel cell. Ah." I remove it from my belt and offer it to her, grip first.

She carefully takes it and looks it over, clearly not understanding what she's seeing. "I'm going to call a neighbour over, but… Alright. I could do with having someone new to moan to about those Brethren nutters, as well as his bloody nibs the Lord of Brighton."

I smile warmly, and give her a mental nudge which will make her think that she's making the right decision. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Sarah Williams. Missus Sarah Williams."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd December 2282
11:43 GMT

That was very useful.

'The Brethren' are a fundamentalist millennialist Christian sect that have been spreading out from their home in Portsmouth, and are the main competition for the Anglican church in the region. According to Sarah, if I didn't want to pay a newsagent (an information gatherer and seller, not a retailer of newspapers and magazines) then the next best place to find out what's going on is the local vicar.

When I asked about other Christian denominations I was told that Rome was completely destroying in the Resource Wars. Then there was too much fighting for a new papal conclave and once the EU fell apart each of the countries with a significant Catholic population nominated their own Pope. Even today there are occasional messages to the faithful from four different Popes, each decrying the others. Most Catholic diocese in Britain attached themselves to the Anglican Church until that mess sorts itself out, because while the national government is widely considered to have collapsed, the Church hasn't. And because our Catholic archbishop had more sense than to nominate himself.

And by 'widely considered'… It turns out that Queen Elizabeth III is still alive, a jolly impressive feat given that she was queen before the Resource Wars and is even older than Robert House. With no parliament, she's theoretically assumed supreme executive authority. In practice their writ runs pretty thin outside of London, but for some reason they sent a company of soldiers to install someone as Lord of Brighton.

Brighton, of all places.

And while I.. was sort of thinking as just picking up a priest who didn't mind travelling, I think that having a conversation with Lord Harold Windsor would be a productive use of my time. Because in terms of giving the country a functioning government, creating a parliament that acknowledges the monarch as sovereign but retains most of the power is a lot easier if there's only one possible monarchical candidate and they're someone most people recognise as being the monarch, even if that recognition is mostly theoretical.

Which is why the stealth system is off and I'm flying along the Brighton seafront, giving everyone a good eyeful. A lot more fishing boats than I remember there being, which I suppose makes sense. They've got to be getting food from somewhere, and with the various wars reducing the human population so much the fish stocks would have either recovered or been killed by the radiation-.

I blink as I see a giant carcass being butchered to on the quay, near one of the larger fishing boats. It looks like a.. large whale, with glowing nodules along its sides. Stand on guard nearby is a squad of Life Guards armed with.. German gauss rifles. Interesting choice, as they're dependant on European batteries rather than the fusion batteries which the American rip off uses. Still a very dangerous gun, as long as the power holds out.

Yes, they've seen me, and their squad leader is directing them to take aim. Have we got a radio frequency..? Yes, yes we do.

"Krono to Life Guard. Krono to Life Guard. Please respond."

"This is a restricted military frequency. And you're probably used a contraband radio, aren't you, you horrible little man?"

"I have an alien spaceship armed with giant cannons." I slow the saucer, angling it to that I can point the disintegrator cannons at them at a moment's notice, because I'm pretty sure that the gauss guns can pierce the hull and I'm relying on the saucer's inertial shield and my own ability to slam on the accelerator if they actually fire. "And I'd like you to take me to your leader."

"You some sorta goddam alien comedian? 'Take me to your sodding leadah' indeed."

"It seemed appropriate."

"It's a cliché. You could have said anything, and the best you could do was a 'The Day The Earth Stood Still' quote."

"You seem to be taking this rather personally."

"You just spoiled aliens for me. I'm over two hundred years old, and just when it looks like something interesting is about to happen for the first time in bloody ages, it turns out that the alien flying machine is being flown by a moron."

"That's-. That's a little hurtful, but I'll try and be more creative in future."

"No, it's too late, you ruined it. What do ya want?"

"Um. Well, I flew here from Nevada-"

"Of course you did. Area Fifty-One? You don't just quote clichés, you fucking live them!"

…

Canopy.

I jump down, falling through the air and landing in front of the Life Guard squad, inertia shield flaring as it absorbs-

"A superhero landing?!"

-the kinetic energy of my impact.

"Yes." I rise from my crouch, glaring at the sergeant with the portable radio. "It was."

Ah. That's something I hadn't spotted before. Not only is the sergeant a ghoul -which, yes, was the most likely explanation for him being over two hundred years old- but all of the Life Guard are. The dock workers and butchers are regular humans, and appear to be torn between grabbing improvised weapons and watching a piece of novel street theatre.

The sergeant marches forward, passing the closer soldiers who have their guns readied but not yet aimed, and glares at me.

"What's your name, son?"

"Krono."

He stares at me for a moment, then-

"Hah!"

-actually looks and sounds amused.

"You certainly committed to the sodding bit, didn't you? That's exactly the sort of thing he'd say and do in the bleedin' comics. Only question is-" He raises his gauss rifle and levels it at my head. "-what makes you think I won't do exactly what those idiots in the comics should do the moment they see him?"

"My ship's fire controls have a dead man's switch."

"You overestimate how much I want to be alive. It's been a boring and frankly painful two hundred years, and you've actually annoyed me."

"Because his lordship will be annoyed that he didn't get to make the decision himself?"

"But if I'm dead, how is that my problem?"

I reach out psychically for the gauss gun and detach the capacitor from the magnetic coil. And then I check for an alternate charging mechanism, just in case. No, I'm good.

I shrug nonchalantly. "I guess you better shoot me then."

"I guess I-" There's a 'click' as he pulls the trigger. "-had-?"

Slowly, very slowly, the coilgun round drifts down the bore due to the coil having been weakly magnetised, then falls out of the barrel.

The two of us look at it on the ground.

I suck in air through my teeth, nodding sagely. "Yeah, I hear that can be a problem for men your age."

A peel of laughter runs through the people watching, and more than a few of the Life Guard are smirking.

"Hm."

A fraction of a second and his sidearm is pointing at my face as my plasma pistol is at his.

"Just like the comics, huh?"

"Yes." I give him a very small nod. "And what do you think would happen in the comics if someone tried this?"

His eyes narrow. "What do you want, you living, third rate comic villain?"

"To find out what's been happening in my dear home country while I've been in America, to see if I can find any members of my family, and to acquire a priest to perform my marriage ceremony."

"That sounds convoluted enough to be a third rate villain plot. But if you've been to the States, his lordship probably does need to talk to you."

"Right then."

…

…

…

"So which one of us puts our gun down first?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd December 2282
11:59 GMT

The sergeant and an escort detail marches towards a fortified hotel, which I assume is where Lord Harold is based. The sergeant himself is reviewing my family tree, and doesn't look all happy about it.

"King."

"Yes, my maternal grandfather's family name."

"And his wife was an Underwood."

"Yes, he used to make jokes about how untrustworthy they were."

"Did he have any brothers and sisters?"

Ah… "I… Don't remember. I think… There was a man my mother called 'Uncle Rolly', but I'm not sure exactly who he was related to."

"And what part of the country was this?"

"Gloucestershire."

The sergeant winces. "Holy Mary, Mother of.. God."

He shoves the paper back at me, and I take it with a frown. "What? There's no way you're old enough to have met him."

"My great grandfather was called Roland King, and his part of the family came from Gloucestershire."

I stop walking, staring at him with a growing grin. "Oh?"

He stops too, looking me over more carefully. Then he sighs, and starts walking again. "It's probably a common name."

I take a couple of rushed steps to catch up, still grinning. "Not really, cousin."

"And you expect me to believe that you were alive before the Resource Wars, do you?"

"I was born in nineteen eighty three. I'm almost certainly older than you."

"You're older than my father was. How can you be that old with you still having a baby-face, huh?"

"America invented cryogenic suspension pods before their war with China. There are more than a few people from that period still alive. Did you ever hear of Robert House?" He gives his head a small shake. "Founder of RobCo?"

"The Americans didn't sell robots to other countries. You were seventy when the Wars started? Your face isn't that old."

I shake my head. "Last year I remember before waking up in the now is twenty thirteen."

"Still doesn't mean that we're related."

"Give me a sample of your blood before I leave, and I'll get someone to run a genetic analysis."

His eyebrows ridges rise. "You've got someone with the equipment to do that?"

"America is rebuilding. Slowly. There are a couple of places with good enough laboratories to specialise in advanced medicine."

"Just so long as they don't nuke the whole planet again."

"What?" I frown as we're waved through the checkpoint and into the hotel. "I thought they just nuked China."

"And Russia and Eastern Europe. The Geiger counters still start shouting whenever it rains. I spent decades fighting giant mutant rats because of them."

"Oh? I'd been assuming that most of the damage came from the nuclear strikes on Britain."

"We took a few hits. Couldn't say for sure where they were from. Russia, probably, but it could have been China, France, Germany… Maybe even America. Mutual decapitations all over. Most of the actual damage came from ground invasions after the navy ran out of fuel, and no one was organising things. And that's where it all fell apart. There are still a few places in Britain where English is a second language. And I don't mean because they're speaking Welsh or Gaelic." He smiles cruelly. "But at least they aren't getting orders from Brussels or Berlin anymore."

"So where does your boss come from?"

"The royal family was at Balmoral when the rats attacked what was left of Parliament. They're in charge, as far as I'm concerned."

"Parliament was killed by rats? I assumed that it would have been nuked."

He shrugs. "If they were trying, they missed. Or it got shot down."

I look around at the soldiers and… Other people we walk passed. The soldiers are all ghouls. Actually, from the looks of things only the hotel staff are humans.

"I assume that Her Majesty is a ghoul as well?"

He glares at me. "A what?"

"Ah..?" Oh. "Sorry. In America, that's what people like…" I wave my right hand at my face. "You and your colleagues are called. What's the..? Proper phrase here?"

"Simons."

Ah. What? "Why?"

He rolls his eyes. "Because if we tell someone to do something, they have to do it."

"Heh, okay. Do we..? Have any other surviving family?"

"Not that I know about, if we even are family. My grandparents, parents and brothers died doing this and that. I was conscripted right out of school, spent the whole time moving from one fight to another and then turned into this."

"And you haven't had any children since?"

His jaw tightens, and several other members of the Life Guard glare at me. "That is not funny."

"No, seriously. There was a crazy doctor in America who studied it, and your virility is very low, not zero. It takes a lot of tries, but they proved it was possible for 'Simons' to have children."

His gaze gets a little distant for a moment, then he shakes his head and focuses on a group just ahead of us.

"Lieutenant Roper!"

A Life Guard 'Simon' steps away from a table where he was studying a map with two other members of the Life Guard. His uniform has a gold plated cuirass and those golden… Ropes that I don't know the name for.

"Sergeant King. Who's this, then?"

"He's the one with the plane, sir. Says he came over from America."

"I suppose that if anyone can still build planes it would be them." He looks at me. "How are the septics doing, then?"

"Government has been re-established at the state level in some areas. California, Denver, Oklahoma, Texas and Rio Grande are back. Other places are still a mess. No national government."

"I thought they'd have better contingency plans than that, what with all their vaults."

I shake my head. "Oh, it turned out that the vaults were never meant to save anyone. They were experimental prototypes for building off-world colonies. The plan was for a section of the government and some essential workers to evacuate off planet. In the end, they had to settle for an abandoned oil rig. Then they tried to wipe out the rest of the world with viral weapons, but that got stopped and most of them were killed."

"Oh no." Lieutenant Roper snorts. "A disease. Whatever would we do."

I shake my head again. "They made one that could affect atypical people such as yourself as well. We've got these things called 'super mutants' who are even tougher, and it killed them when they tested it."

He nods. "Good job it got stopped, then. Why are you here now?"

"I wanted to find out how my own country is doing, pick up a priest to officiate at my wedding and see if I had any family left. Turns out that the sergeant might be a distant cousin. Oh." I reach into my robes and pull out a letter of introduction from President Hayes. "And I've got this from the President of the New California Republic, authorising me to act as an ambassador. Could I speak to his lordship, please?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd December 2282
12:23 GMT

A ghoul in suit topped off with a frock coat is sitting at a table reading a report as I'm lead into what appears to be a private dining room. There's a hat stand with a matching top hat on it in the corner of the room, along with a cane propped up by the base. He's either acquired the services of an expert wig maker or he's one of the rare ghouls who managed to hang on to most of their hair during the transformation process, possessing as he does a full head of black hair and mutton chop sideburns. He's-.

"My God, is that tea?"

His eyes move from the report to me without any other part of his body moving. He considers me for a moment.

"Yes, actually. Roper. Who is this?"

"An ambassador from California, My Lord."

"Really, now. I'd rather assumed that the Chinese would have thoroughly ruined the place. How on Earth did they miss California?"

I hesitate, then Roper looks at me and nods.

"They didn't, My Lord. But California was reasonably well served with Vaults, and RobCo undertook the defence of the Mojave region. Plus it.. has been two hundred years. Even salted nuclear warheads don't stay dangerously radioactive forever."

"Educated too, that's a welcome surprise." He lays down his report, though not his tea. "Roper, his affidavits."

Lieutenant Roper advances, my letter of introduction in hand, and holds it out to Lord Harold. Lord Harold takes it, unfolds it one-handed and reads it carefully.

"Mmpf. Hayes. I assume he's not one of us?"

"British, My Lord? No. There are very few British people in America."

He gives me a faint glare. "No, one of us."

"A Simon, My Lord?"

His lip moves in a mild expression of distaste at the word. "Yes, one of the… Gentry."

"No. Um, I'm.. sorry if I've offended, but I was told that 'Simon' was the accepted nomenclature."

Lord Harold looks at Roper, who nods. "I'll have a word with the sergeant, My Lord."

"See that you do. The term 'Simon' is informal slang, used largely by the lower orders. 'Gentry' is more polite, though only used to refer to those of us who predate the war and occupy positions of seniority. You can use 'ardens' for everyone else, as in homo sapiens ardens."

"'Ardens' is a good deal more polite than what they settled on in America."

"Naturally. And yes. It is tea."

"Does Britain have trade with India? I realise that it's possible with wooden ships-."

"A two hundred day round trip in a clipper. We tried it, but only a fraction of the ships made it back. It should be an easier journey from California."

"They drink coffee."

"Ah." He nods. "And I suppose that the Chinese reds mined the route."

An interesting point. As far as I know, even the Shi haven't tried to make the journey to China. I don't even think that NCR traders have tried to reach Hawaii. Their trade ships and warships mostly hug the coastline when they're at sea. I… Honestly don't know what the deep oceans are like. I would have assumed that the places that weren't sterilised by radiation would be mostly recovered by now, were it not for the fact that I've seen fog crawlers and the wanamingos. As it is, I've got no idea what might be happening out to sea.

"I don't know, but that's certainly a possibility."

"Very well." He tosses the letter across the table, where it is recovered by Lieutenant Roper and returned to me. "On behalf of Her Majesty's government, I recognise you as the Ambassador of this.. 'New California Republic', Your Excellency."

"Thank you."

"You're on the wrong side of the continent for us to trade with, assuming that America's successor states have abandoned the position of isolationism."

"Given how things have collapsed, it would be impractical to enforce it. Though I'm afraid that damage to America's shipping infrastructure means that we can't really initiate trades and won't be able to for some time."

What have we actually got to trade, anyway? Brahmin and big horners are useful food animals that are adapted for radiation, but I'm not sure how well either would do in Britain. Robots? They wouldn't have the infrastructure. Water?

I just about stop myself laughing at the idea of Britain needing to import water, of all things.

G.E.C.K.s? Yes, them and everyone else will want those. Weapons? They don't have America's nuclear energy supplies. Fusion cells? They don't have the infrastructure. Knowledge? Expert personnel? Seed samples?

Lord Harold nods. "I suppose that it's worthwhile just knowing that there are other survivors in the world. So: just what is the New California Republic?"

"The people in Vault Fifteen founded a town named Shady Sands in twenty ninety seven. At that point the radiation levels were low enough for them to use their seed reserves to start farming. As the years passed the village grew into a town and got into contact with other groups of survivors. They started trading; Shady Sands had food but was short of metal and machine parts, while the survivors in Californian cities needed fresh food. In twenty one eighty nine the towns had enough in common that it made sense to come together under a shared banner, using their combined military to eliminate outlaws, raider bands and giant mutant animals from their territory. Since then, the NCR has expanded across most of the old State of California's territory and into Baja California and Nevada. Mostly peacefully, sometimes with the threat of violence and occasionally with an actual war."

"War with who?"

"The Enclave, the Brotherhood of Steel and Caesar's Legion. The Enclave were a group of descendants of part of the old American government who decided to create a weaponised virus to kill everyone else in the world. The NCR allied with the Brotherhood of Steel to destroy their bases in California, but relations broke down afterwards when the Brotherhood started demanding that the NCR hand over all advanced technology in their possession. The NCR won, and the two groups have recently signed a peace treaty. Caesar's Legion are a group of tribes brought together under the leadership of a fascist historian. They conquered the entirety of Arizona before coming into conflict with the NCR, a war which is still ongoing."

Lord Harold's eyes narrow. "Did you just say 'Cai-sar's Legion', Your Excellency? Romans?"

"He styled them after a very jaundiced version of Roman history. It's not the most ridiculous thing in America, but it is the most ridiculous that's gotten too many people killed to laugh about." I shrug. "How have things been here?"

"A mess. The nuclear missiles flew early and often, and then what little was left was subjected to decades of raids that we lacked the infrastructure to respond to. Her majesty managed to return to London to take command, but it wasn't until twenty two thirty eight that we managed to destroy the insurgent groups in London alone, let alone reach out to anywhere else. I am here to restore the control of the government to the south coast; law and order, infrastructure, governance and nationhood."

I nod. "I stopped by my home village on the way here. There didn't seem to be any sort of overarching authority."

"That's our experience of how it works. People are too busy surviving to do anything else. I prefer that. I led men of the coastal rapid reaction force before things fell apart completely. Fighting our own people leaves a bad taste in m' mouth."

I nod. "I saw a mutant whale on the docks."

"Yes, they're reasonably common in these waters now. We're hoping that we can harvest their oil as a fuel source. Shipping coal this far south is difficult, and would be impractical for naval purposes anyway."

I frown. "Why? That's what we used to do, before we switched over to oil powered engines."

"Because it will take decades at best before we can restore the railway lines north to south, and we're not the only nation harvesting whales. The French are up to something, and not a man jack of us is prepared to let them get the jump on us again."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th April 2013
15:22 GMT

"…out how you were getting on with it?"

The J-ian plant woman in front of me hasn't stopped staring wide-eyed since I landed. In fact, just about everyone I've flown past on my way here stared quite a lot, which… I mean, I like to think that if my kingdom was in the galactic minority and I knew that for a fact, I'd be a lot less surprised when an intelligent being from a different kingdom stopped by for a visit. It should be even less of a big deal when it's a Lantern, since they know for a fact that Lanterns can look like just about anything. Their Sector's current and former Lanterns may have been from J, but the ones before that certainly weren't.

"I say, are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes! I'm perfectly fine. Are you?"

I smile. "Yes, thank you for asking. But-."

"Are you sure? Your… Leaves look… Dead."

I.. blink. "Ah, my species doesn't photosynthesise. This-" I reach up with my right hand and run it through my hair. "-is fur. Keratin, mostly. It's a sort of built-in sunshade for my brain."

…

"Huuuuuuuuh."

"So, the computer?"

"Oh, that's great! We're in the middle of a-." She frowns. "Look, this is… Probably a stupid question, it's a big universe with lots of meat in it, but do you know the person who got it in the first place?"

"Yes." I nod. "It was me."

Her eyes widen. "Rea-?!" Then she calms herself. "Oh. Right. That's why you're checking up on things."

"Yes it is. So?"

"The speed of our computer stems and macro intelligences has increased a thousand fold, and the rollout's been surprisingly simple. The technology is so much like ours, while still being… Different? Alien? Where did you get it?"

"I bought it from an arms dealer, who got it from a stellar civilisation called The Dominion. I'm not sure why they started using plant-based computers; the rest of their technology base is more conventional. It's pretty old by their standards, but I'm glad that you've found it helpful."

I should probably investigate in more detail, because… Pamela hasn't, as far as I can tell. I suppose that her greater focus on plant-based magic means that she doesn't really need plant machines in the same way that the people of J do. And other than bringing himself up to full Alec Holland intelligence I haven't seen any sign that Swamp Thing has either.

"Thank you for bringing it here."

"And how about the people from Alstair?"

"They're… Weird and alien, but…" She stares at me again, then blinks as she realises what she's doing and who she's talking to. "Um."

"I'm familiar with how different our physiologies are."

"Right! Ah, they-. They're similar enough to us that the differences really stand out-. Physically, I mean. But they're good people, hard workers, and… There's been an increase people being interested in… Mysticism. Magic. Because of how much they use it."

"But no real friction?"

"No, not at all. In fact, some of the researchers, they-." Her bark hardens slightly. "Ah…"

"Say no more. I'll leave you to your work."

I

step out, focusing on the familiar desires of Alstair. There's some sort of blur in the way, but it's easy to

work through-.

Ships burn and break all around me as the four-way war for Antares hots up! I armour up right away and generate construct shields just as the first optimistic volley of flak fire heads in my direction.

Um.

Now, they've been fighting for a very long time. This doesn't mean-.

Incoming message.

…

Answer?

"Hell-"

"Orange Lantern! I am so glad that you're here!"

"-o, Queen Hyathis. Um."

A large and heavily armoured ship from Mosteel wheels out of control in space, some sort to… Lichen? Eating through its hull. Moments later its structural integrity fails completely, exposing the interior structures to space. Including the crew.

"What's happening?"

"I'm winning. I'm finally winning! And I have you to thank for it!"

"The Orange Lantern Corps-."

"Was kind enough to provide me with a trading partner, new and superior computers and weapons. A new generation of ships and a whole new-"

Something takes hold of my construct barriers and turns me around.

"-me."

Hyathis is… A giant. Or at least has created a giant avatar for herself.

She releases me and raises her right arm, hyper velocity seedpods launched from some sort of internal mechanism and smashing into -through in some cases- a destroyer squadron from Dhor.

"Thanks to your computer, my mind has been expanded. This is child's play now! Oh no you don't!"

Her head turns towards… A flotilla trying to retreat out of interdiction range. Her left arm waves and their thrusters flare and fail.

"Did you think you could fly into my battle space and not pick up a few spores! Fools!"

"So… This isn't them ganging up on you because you'd pulled a little ahead, an alliance that will fall apart the moment that you're beaten back?"

"No. Not this time. This is their last hurrah before my new fleet puts itself in orbit around their worlds and does as it will. I will seed their biospheres and make prisons of their worlds, and then concern myself with them never again! And then…"

Giant eyes glow.

"Thanagar."

…

Huh.

"I'm going to have to ask that you don't seek Diana out for a rematch."