With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
11:44 GMT

"Okay, so I don't know exactly how this is going to work, or what it will feel like to you."

Ping.

"I am familiar with rage." His full attention is focused on the caged berserker in front of us. "That was why you asked for me."

"True, but I don't know if that makes it better or worse. So I'm going to move it to you, and if you can't cope, tell me and I'll reverse-."

"Do not insult me by completing that offer." He takes his helmet off, and I'm struck by how… Normal he looks. Aside from the heavy brow and helmet-hair, I don't think I'd look at him twice if I passed him in the street. "Begin at once."

Ping.

"Alright. One moment."

We look at the madman, the angry red coils still burrowed around his desire-strands. We look at Orion, his…

"Orion, we need you to reduce your defences against external interference. While we respect your caution, we are deliberately attempting to-."

"I understand."

Ping.

And now we have a.. better look. It's a bit more complicated than a human's network, but the largest thing is that some desires… They look like they're… External? Connected to things I can't see inside and outside of his own psyche. I guess that's to do with however New God powers work.

We reach into the miner's psyche, towards the red strands. And then we call upon Orion's desire to remove the strands from their current host, using that to link the two psyches together. To begin with, the movement is slow, the strands almost reluctant to leave their current home. But then-.

Father.

Then they see something that makes them feel a part of something greater than themselves.

We wince as elemental rage and hate flow past us, from the miner and into Orion, where it seems to… Hesitate, as if not quite knowing what it's supposed to do or where it's supposed to go. We're anthropomorphising again. Then we see the moment where it… Collects itself and then spreads outwards, grasping at the network-

"Uh."

Ping.

-before being pulled in, lining up with structures that are already there. We wait a moment, but nothing else appears to be happening on Orion's end. On the miner's end, we see… The desires are frayed, awareness only moving sluggishly around the network. But we have access to the Honden, and as such we can easily recall what should be there and restore it.

And back in the room. Orion's put his helmet back on, but otherwise seems to be managing perfectly well.

Ping.

"What… What's happening?"

The miner doesn't know what's going on, but that's hardly unreasonable.

"Why am I-?" His hands find the collar and his eyes widen in terrified shock. "I'm not-. But I'm not-."

"You were, but we found a way to fix that. Now, I'm afraid that we'll need the chief warden to check you over before we can release you, but you should be returned to the bosom of your family by the end of the day."

"Really?"

"One moment." I step out of the cell. "Warden! We appear to have had a success!"

"You do?"

He strides over, walking into the cell and staring at the inmate.

"Kellen? Are you back with us?"

Kellen the Miner nods. "I didn't know.. I'd been gone. I just.. remember getting annoyed about Tullan dropping his pick, and then…" He shakes his head, his gaze growing distant for a moment before snapping back. "Then… Then a blur, and I was here. How.. long..?"

"Half a year."

"That's… That's a relief, actually. I don't know what I'd have done if it'd been years. My… My family?"

"All well, as far as I know. We had a… Well, a volcano erupted, but that's been taken care of and all of the farms should be alright."

"Taken… Care..?"

He looks me over.

"Oh. Right. Ah. How?"

"I transferred the rage into Orion."

Who's put his helmet back on and is looking… Tense.

"Orion? I ask this because of our fellowship and not because I doubt your capacities, but-."

"I'm fine. Take me to the next."

"They've been here for months already. If it would-."

"I said, that I'm fine."

Ping.

"Alright. Warden, could you please take us to whoever's been here longest?"

"Aye, I can. Think calming thoughts, Kellen. We'll have the Dar's physician check you over, and then you'll be out."

Kellen steps away from the bars and sits on the cage's bench, trying to centre himself.

"Orion, I think-"

"How many times-?"

"-I can speed it up so we can do multiple at once. From what I could see of your network you should be able to absorb that much, but I leave the decision up to you."

"Do it."

"Alright. You'll need to remove your helmet again."

His jaw tightens, but he removes his helmet. He doesn't exactly look well, but his eyes are his own and the anger he feels appears to be focused.

We look deeper, and the red light he absorbed appears to be accreting around rage that he already feels. We suppose that makes sense; perhaps the issue that the locals have is that they're not as accustomed to rage as he is.

We look around, form a connection of need to each of the inmates and pull.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
11:58 GMT

I don't ask Orion how he's doing as he stalks along the subterranean passageway, because I can actually take a hint. His helmet's back on, and… He looked like he was managing it.

Ping.

"Can you see it?"

"Not… Yet."

We're not far away from places that people who've gone berserk are known to have worked. If there's a reservoir of the stuff then it should be possible for me to see it… Soon? Unless I can't see it unless it's already in someone, or if it's mostly outside conventional reality…

It's not as if there are a lot of people I can share information with on the subject.

My ring blinks.

"Illustres here."

"Darkstar Nguyen. I've got some bad news."

"About time. What is it?"

"Have you scanned for teleporter traces?"

I don't respond with 'no'. Instead, I scan for teleporter tr-.

"Oh."

"The locals haven't made any deal for any off-world visitor to use teleporters to assist in mining. I haven't spoken to the ruler yet, but I don't think he'll know anything about it."

"You haven't checked out the site, have you?"

"No, I'm leaving that for you and Orion. Unlike both of you, I don't think I could survive exposure to elemental rage blood. I'm going to see if I can get a description of any alien traders who've been through here recently."

"Good work. Keep it up."

I close the channel, then keep trying-.

Ping.

"What is this?"

Orion is… Staring at a section of rock floor-. Scan.

"Someone teleported a mass of rock out-."

"I can see that." He draws back his right fist. "I would know what they-."

"I can-! I can do that without bringing the mine down on our heads."

Ping.

He lowers his fist.

"Then do so."

I smile as he steps aside and generate a crumbler borer, then press it into the rock. The rock isn't anything special, and the concentration of metal in this area isn't high enough for them to think it was worth digging out. If there's anything-.

The wind blows past us as I breach the vacuum created by the teleportation, and a moment later the borer is fully through. I dismiss the construct.

"Alright, that-."

Orion jumps down, falling about two hundred metres-. The rock shakes as he lands, super strong legs easily absorbing the impact. I step forward after him, falling at a somewhat more sedate rate as I try and get a better scan result.

"Can you see anything?"
Primordial Presence.
"Something great and powerful was here. I can feel the echoes of its passing. But it is gone."

I lower myself into the cave, and… Yes, this isn't something they could get away with in most places. The amount of energy this type of teleporter uses… Leaves the rock completely smooth, fused along its boundary zone. It would be detected, not just by teleport sensors but by the fact that every circuit in the area would melt. Then the heat and seismograph readings, in case that wasn't enough.

"Could a normal teleporter move this… Butcher's Blood?"

"He said it could have melded with any local substance."

I form a small pneumatic drill construct and use it to hammer a hole in the floor until I'm through the metamorphic portion.

"Interesting that they knew exactly where to look, when the locals didn't have a precise location."

Ping.

"Neither did we have a precise location. Who could know about this?"

"Anyone… Who was around when the Maltusians were experimenting with the glow. My first guess would be Krona, but… Really, any of them. Merchants have been visiting this world for a long time, the existence of the Green Lantern Corps is common knowledge and the Orange Lantern Corps hasn't exactly been quiet. Plenty of people could have put things together."

"Mother Box, analyse every trace that their teleporter has left. I want their-."

Red light surrounds us, manifesting in the corporeal world! Fragmentary shapes, local people, a bear, a bull, a demon, not people but the tiny imprints that their rage has left on the red light. Some pass-. Pass around me, leaping, jumping, running, swimming for Orion.

Ping!

He yanks off his helmet and spreads out his arms as they hit.

"I know your rage! But it is nothing that I have not felt a hundred times! If you want to make Orion your fool-"

Ping.

He breathes in slowly, lowering his arms.

"-then you will need to do much more than that. Lantern! Can you see any more?"

"No. But I couldn't see that until it appeared."

"Rage calls to rage. It is contagious. Live surrounded by anger and you will often become angry yourself. The tiny spark of rage felt by these mortals opened them to infection. But my rage is greater, and it is ruled by me."

We take a closer look, and it does look like it's all… Merged with him, unlike it was with the local miners.

"Conclude your business with the Dals and Dars and whoever else of this world. I wish to use the astro-harness's sensors to track those who stole the Butcher's Blood."

"I-"

BOOM!

"-will. Illustres to Darkstar Nguyen."

"Go ahead."

"When you have those pictures, send me a copy. I want to show them around the other cities. I have a suspicion that someone's been up to something."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
12:23 GMT

"…drawing of the merchants." Razer looks at the picture the court artist was able to render. "I doubt that you will be able to find them based on this alone. We don't know what makes one member of their species stand out against the others."

"You'd be right, if I didn't recognise them."

The Free Lancers. They moved pretty quick-. No, wait, if they flew to Chughraghahh and used the portal there… Okay, that gets them closer, but they still-.

Then flew to Alstair and used their plant-based Dominion rip-off gate to fly to O and then flew here, then they could make it.

I should be charging them a percentage.

I've got no idea how they knew about this place. Sure, the Reach would happily fund them to pick up anything related to the emotional spectrum, but unless they tripped over it by pure chance… Don't know.

Ilana blinks at me. "Who are they?"

"Specialist… Traders, I've encountered before. They folded fairly quickly when I threatened them, but that just means that they're realistic. Have they been here before?"

Razer indicates the negative. "No. Apparently, this was their first visit."

"But they knew about the situation; they probably spoke to other traders."

So how secret was the fact that the miners were afflicted with insane rage? It wasn't a secret in the city, but..? No, no, they found that power ring deliberately. It would be difficult but not impossible for them to have acquired a system for detecting emotional spectrum energy. They'd already left by the time we arrived, so… Maybe the main focus of the Butcher's energy was detectable in a way that the residue wasn't?

I'll ask them when I catch up with them.

"Thank you for your assistance. My team will be leaving Volkreg to complete our investigation. I will return when that's done in order to enact a lasting peace. And, knowing me, probably some light industry. I can take you home now, or leave you here until I return."

Ilana and Razer look at each other for a moment, then turn back to me. Ilana makes a gesture of ending. "This has been… My horizons have expanded more than I thought possible."

"But we will need all hands in the fields now that there is once again sunlight with which to grow things."

"Understood. One moment."

I attach tethers to each of them and transition, appearing on the battlements of their home city. The small cluster of soldiers on the ramparts clutch their weapons for a moment, and then appear to recognise my companions.

"Thank you, once again, for your assistance."

I nod respectfully, and then transition back to Jade, already knowing what I'm going to see. Her armour's sensors detect me and she steps aside to see what drawing the locals have created. Not exactly display-worthy, but I pick out the Free Lancers from amongst the faces on display.

"The Free Lancers."

"They've travelled a long way. Any idea how?"

"It's possible due to the zeta relay on-."

"The one you built for Amalak. And then the gate near O, which you-."

"Yeah, no good deed goes unpunished." I huff quietly. "Rage absorbed, peace reigns, ash cloud gone. We're finished here, unless you can think of anything I've missed?"

"You haven't recruited anyone."

"We're too far from N.E.M.O. space, and I don't have time to teach someone. And I haven't encountered an outstanding candidate."

She nods. "Azmah or Turi?"

"We need to find out what the Free Lancers are doing, and if they're on Azmah then it's obvious what they're up to. Orion?"

Ping.

He's kneeling next to his astro-harness. His head is bowed, and his hands… I think he's praying. Odd. I didn't see any obvious buildings of worship in Super Town, and… I rather thought that their connection to the Source just… Rendered conventional worship meaningless. But he did just absorb quite a lot of red light, so I think I'll give it a minute or two.

Ping.

His eyes open and he stands, his muscles tense. Without looking at either of us he steps up onto the astro-harness.

Ping.

"Azmah."

I nod. "If you don't have an objection."

"The intensity of the rage is clearly enough to overwhelm mortal minds. Removing it wherever I find it is my duty to the Source. What concerns me is that Draan Del Daar knew that it was here and left the mortals to their plight."

"I'm not going to try and defend his behaviour. The only thing I can think of is that for most of his life this planet was uninhabited. It might genuinely have slipped his mind."

"There will be a reckoning either way."

"After he's made the ring. We need that."

Ping.

"I have not forgotten. Mother Box, open a Boom Tube to Azmah."

Ping.

BOOM!

Jade charges her maser. "So, this is a world where everyone's either being electrocuted to ash or fighting everyone else on the planet."

"Technically, they only fight everyone in their line of sight. And their government officials appear to be able to rise above it, though I think that's something to do with how they live in a Faraday cage. But I'm pretty sure that with sufficiently conductive dividers and an absence of the Butcher's Blood, we should be able to becalm them."

Orion flies through the portal, and Jade and I follow a moment later. Contacting the government-.

"YAAAGH!"

A hulking local man throws himself at Orion, axe in hand! Orion jinks around the swing and fires two astro-bolts to the back of the local's helmet. The man staggers but the lack of intelligent control doesn't stop him stomping around in a circle and swinging at Orion once more. This time Orion knocks his arm aside and counters, punching once, twice and then a third time into his face! On the third his helmet is torn off, and I take that as a opening to attach a shock construct to his head and stun him.

And here come the rest.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
12:31 GMT

"Outsider." One of the three individuals Liana referred me to glowers at me while speaking. The other two just glower. "Go away."

"I'd love to, but there's something that I need first. And I'd like to help with your… Total internal conflict issue."

"Already fixed."

I frown, and look out of the window at the people outside. While they're not fighting right now, that appears to be because they're either too tired or too injured to throw a punch.

"With the greatest respect, it doesn't look like it."

"Planet has long had multiple magnetic poles. Chaotic magnetic fields. Lightning storms. Our species uses these fields for navigation. Borders. Our sense of place."

"And.. increased electrical activity in your atmosphere… Given your sun, would be a perfectly normal consequence. And with that gone, no one knows where they are."

"You are less stupid than Green Lantern."

"There's a species on my homeworld who has something similar. They use our magnetic field to find the coast, but for some of them it goes wrong and they instinctively walk the wrong way. They end up in the middle of a frozen wasteland and die."

Liana 'fixed' the magnetic field to a simple north and south pole, which means that the interactions they need for a sense of place aren't happening any more. I thought that by 'walls' she meant literal walls. This problem actually makes sense.

"I don't think that I can turn your planet's magnetic field back, but I should be able to create enough conductive-."

"Stop. Trader already offered that." The local official scowls deeper. "Accepted. Machines spreading cables. Not work completely. People need to learn new wall map, but… Better."

"Did the traders look like-" I create a construct of the Free Lancers. "-this?"

"Yes."

"How are they rolling the cables out?"

"Their robots. Takes time."

"Do you have a copy of their plans? I'd like to help."

The local I'm talking to turns away, going into a huddle with the other two. I raise my left hand to my ear.

"Any luck?"

"They've already left. Orion's Mother Box has a read on their warp drive, so we might be able to follow it. It's been redesigned since last time you met them."

"Might be worth checking that they're not leaving a false trail. Anything on the Blood?"

"No. Liana's records are pretty clear: they all started fighting the moment she got rid of their walls, all at the same time, all over the planet. There might not be any focus of the Butcher's Blood here. There might not-"

I'm nodding. "Might not even be any here."

"Or the Free Lancers might have already taken it."

"Or that. Is Orion doing alright?"

"He wasn't talkative before and he isn't talkative now. I can't read his body language because he isn't human."

"Have-?"

"His god powers haven't changed my behavior significantly. If his people think anything like humans, he won't. He won't want to do anything that reminds him of his father. It's the same reason why I don't watch sports. I have found something interesting."

"Yes?"

"The magnetic fields these cables produce. It's not stable. It oscillates."

"Okay?"

"It's one of the things we look out for when detecting Reach mind altering technology. Some patterns of light are hypnotic. It wouldn't do anything to us, but to the locals it might have mind-altering power."

"Well spotted. I'll ask. Anything else?"

"No."

"Then I'll see you when I'm done here."

I lower my hand, waiting for the locals to finish their discussion. Two of them glance at me distrustfully, while the third looks more resigned.

"Yes." The metal floor next to him undulates, a globe covered in thin lines rising up as he gestures. "Here. Take. Make wires. Leave."

I attach a construct tether to it and pull it over. Quick scan… Got it. Compare it to population centre, scan intended cable composition and power generation… I can improve on that. And add a way to override those oscillations in case it turns out that they are nefarious, the probability of which appears to be in the region of 112%...

"Thank you."

I float the globe back towards them… And they ignore it.

Alright. I put it on the floor by their feet.

"I'll get right on that. I appreciate that Lanterns haven't exactly covered themselves in glory where your world is concerned, and I'm grateful that you're giving me the-" Totally voluntary. "-opportunity to make amends."

"Go away."

With all this rage around, it's a little difficult to make out the desire for normalcy that is its antithesis. But since the rage is essentially mundane it doesn't cloud it out quite as much as the Butcher's Blood did. So

I can

travel to the largest concentration of brawling locals and start fabricating cables and a generator. None of them bother looking up to spot me, and I-.

One gets dog piled as I watch, the high metal content of their body meaning that they don't bleed or break but rather bend in ways that make me wince. Still alive, still filled with rage, but-.

But if I reveal myself by using a purple healing ray, one, that might prolong their suffering and two, that might make them focus on me. Which would be fine, except that they might also focus on the cables I'm about to lay, which wouldn't. I-.

"Lantern. I have their trail. We should depart at once, lest they make some new mischief."

"But-."

"We can come back for the Blood, if they have not already taken it."

"They came up with a plan to stop the fighting. If I leave, their robots will take weeks to implement it. If I stay for a few…" Quick check. "A few hours, I can have it finished. You can stay or go-."

"If I go and the Blood remains… It will undo your work. They will descend into anarchy once more."

"Not necessarily."

"I will not risk it." I hear him sigh. "They escape this day."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
13:12 GMT

Geoffrey's muzzle wrinkles as he regards his powerful-looking paws. I suppose that him being a diamond bulldog is kind of appropriate.

"Was this really necessary?"

Guy grins. The Tombola of Destiny granted him the body of a white-pelted and ginger-maned earth pony, and a cutie mark of a truncheon wrapped in a green chain.

"Ah, come anh. It's funny. We're just'a lotta animals"

Jordan, who was demanding that I just send him through with a boom tube until Guy started making chicken noises, fluffs up his wings. Pegasus, yes, he loves flying. The brown pelt with navy blue mane and tail… Just doesn't go, and I'm not sure what the direction-arrow-and-explosions cutie mark is about. "Let's just get this over with."

"Now, Geoffrey, you said that you were having trouble relating to your grandchildren." I look at him as seriously as anyone can in this sort of situation. "And while I respect the work you've done in cleaning the British government, that isn't going to take the rest of your life." He goes to protest. "Not full-time, at least. Family's important, and when you can fly to Australia whenever you want, the distance isn't an excuse anymore."

Komand'r looks away from us, tail twitching. Koriand'r's tail is moving too, but differently. Not sure why they came through as dangerously furry catgirls… Maybe that was Starswirl's thing? There is something sort of like a cat in Tamaranean evolutionary history, so… Maybe? Doesn't explain why I'm a horse, but who am I to impugn the motives of a pony with bells on his hat?

Similarly, I have no idea why Ghia'ta has come through as some kind of violet-skinned oni with four arms, but once she grabbed a replacement cuirass she adapted readily enough. Dr. Ub'x is now a dire beaver, and I'm a little concerned that he's not going to want to change back. Even if he still only comes up to my thigh. He brought along an Indigo Lantern who looks a bit like an octopus. Presumably he can do hope, and I haven't seen his face on any wanted posters so I have plausible deniability.

A patch of star-studded darkness rises from the ground at my side and reforms into Luna. I give her a nuzzle as she levitates a shard of mirror.

Mother Box?

Ping.

"There. We have it. Our sister should not notice its absence at once, but we had best be done swiftly. She has been maudlin of late, and contemplates it often."

Luna's trying to sound tense, but the excitement is leaking through. After being gone for a thousand years there's not a lot she's been able to do for Celestia, not on a personal level.

"Where is the mask?"

Guy looks at Jordan, and he winces for a moment before using a hand construct to pull the now equine-face-compatible mask out of his saddlebag and hand it over. Luna abandons her sombre tone and grins excitedly, taking it in her thaumokinetic grip and pulling it closer. The mask shimmers as she tried to understand the spells involved, and her grin fades as her brow furrows.

"What is the mask?"

Jordan starts to wing-shrug, then stops with his wings half-furled as he glances back at them as if he forgot they were there.

"Ah, we're not exactly sure how it works. It lets whoever's wearing it mess with peoples' heads. Make them feel whatever emotions you want."

I nod. "You remember what it felt like when you used hope to unmake the Anti-Life? Focus on that feeling when you use it. And then project that at whoever you're shooting at."

"Hm. A masquerade." She lowers the mask onto her face. "And it attaches itself. Most convenient. If We could replicate that part of its magics alone We could make a killing in the costume trade."

"Ping."

"Okay, Mother Box has the coordinates." Luna levitates the mirror shard onto a nearby table, out of the way. "Everyone ready?"

There's a general round of affirmatives.

"Alright then. Mother Box, hush tube."

The larger than usual portal opens in front of us, and I lead the way through into… Their Canterlot palace, under some stained glass windows of… Their versions of the Elements of Harmony? Guess friendship isn't considered quite so important here. Bit odd there are only four; numbers of things like that tend to stay the same from one reality to another. Or maybe they're just images of national heroes rather than Elements? Not-.

"…intruders, sister. We-."

Bizarro Celestia and Bizarro Luna trot into view, stopping and blinking in surprise when they see us.

My Luna trots forward. "Our other self, it is good to see you doing so well."

"Princess Luna." Other Luna advances to meet her. "I thought that using the mirror was dangerous?"

"Our swain hath a method of translocation that bypasses the restrictions of Starswirl's mirror."

Other Luna has a slightly odd expression on her face as she looks down the line and tries to work out which of us Luna is referring to. Ghia'a and the octopus get bewilderment and Geoffrey distaste, while the rest are regarded with curiosity.

"The large grey one."

I wave with my right forehoof.

Other Luna's eyes widen as she looks up at me. "He's a very… Large stallion."

My Luna rolls her eyes. "And he had best be keeping his thoughts pure if he doth not desire Our displeasure."

"No fear." I nod. "My thoughts are on a single matter with no distractions."

Other Luna looks blank for a moment, then blushes, prompting Other Celestia to titter. But honestly, physically identical they might be, but I know which one is mine. And the other… Isn't, in a way which neatly deflects my middle aged ardour. I want a wife, not an adolescent sexual fantasy.

Besides, that sort of thing's awkward enough with an equine body without worrying about a third party.

Other Celestia recovers from her amusement. "What brings you here?"

"We hath gathered the magics which we believe will purge from Sombra the evils he inflicted 'pon himself, that he may be reunited with Our Sister."

Other Celestia looks worried. "And… Send them where?"

"Neigh, you needst be not afeared. They shall be unmade, torn asunder, not inflicted 'pon some new innocent. Doth you know where he hides?"

Other Luna nods. "We last had contact with him in the far north of Equestria. I think he may still retain enough of his mind to want to avoid harming his former subjects."

I grin. "Right-oh. Time for a field trip! Mother Box, calculate and generate boom tube!"

Other Luna frowns. "Who is 'Mother Box'?"

"Ping."

BOOM!

Team Lantern files through the opening, while I look at the Other Princesses.

"You ladies want to tag along? You shouldn't be essential, but Luna's our only magician and the support wouldn't hurt."

Other Luna and Other Celestia share a glance, and then nod.

"After what King Sombra did for us, we will do all that we can to help return him to his senses."

I nod. I respect that attitude. "Rightoh. Walk this way."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
13:21 GMT

Other Luna peers out across the frozen landscape.

"You're sure that he's there?"

A variety of Lanterns holding construct magnifying glasses nod without looking at her. I just create a construct to display the mad king's position. And… Sound.

"Crystals…"

He appears to have taken refuge in a disused mine, and indeed there are quite a few crystals both exposed and embedded in the rock.

"Nice thing about being a Lantern. We can pretty much just appear next to him using lightspeed transitions, without any of the confusion that comes with teleport assaults. Or the risk that he's put up anti-teleportation wards. Koriand'r, Sombra can turn into a cloud of mist, so if you could please place a spherical shield around us all when we arrive?"

She nods happily.

"Thank you. Jordan, please help her out if something goes wrong. Everyone else? I've got no idea what hitting someone with white light does so I'm going to be feeling it out as we go. If I shout an order, please obey it unless your connection to your own light gives you a very good reason not to. If that happens, please explain as quickly and simply as possible."

Jordan frowns. "If we don't know what it does, why aren't we testing it first?"

"Because I don't want to clue in Nekron. You met Nekron, right?"

"… Yeah."

My Luna… She's looking at me, but the mask means that I can't see her ex-.

"I'm frowning. Who is 'Nekron'?"

"Really powerful undead… God?" I glance at Jordan, but he just shrugs. I'm not really sure how to classify him. Normally, immaterial gods are limited to a single thaumosphere but that doesn't appear to be a problem Nekron has. If I had to guess, it's a property of the Land of the Unliving itself… But I don't know for certain, and that's one scab I haven't felt like poking. "Has a few billion undead slaves, and would rather like to murder the concept of life. I don't think he has any presence here, but if we tried this back home it would be like catnip to him. Plus, there's a good chance that we're all going to be a bit out of it afterwards, or… There might be some other cost."

In the comic, that was just for bringing people back from the dead. There was no extra cost for Sinestro to just shoot with it. Not sure how it'll work here, or if that was just for using the white light directly rather than combining the other colours.

"Point is, it should be fairly instinctive, but… I don't think that we should use it more than we have to." I frown. "I don't remember you ordering test firings of the Elements of Harmony."

"We did not. But your practical aspect is rubbing off on Us."

I look away from King Sombra's hiding place and towards her. Oh, if we were alone-.

"We know what you are thinking and ask that you stop."

Other Luna raises her eyebrows as I lean in and kiss my Luna. The mask makes it a little awkward, and suddenly I find myself thinking of nothing but the cave in which King Sombra-.

I pull away. "Alright. Consider my ardour doused, oh equinoid temptress."

Now back to Sombra. Interesting. He still fears what he's become and what he might do, but it's not clear that he remembers why. And my work is made a little easier by the nation that both fears his new form and fears for his former self.

"On 'one'." Plot course.

Honestly, Lantern Grayven, I just want this to be over. If you ever encounter your reality's version of Sinestro, please omit this from your records.

"Three."

The rings around me start to glow.

"Two."

I tether myself to Luna, and make eye contact to make sure that she's ready. She nods.

"One."

I transition, appearing just in front of Sombra, yellow beam lancing out as I amplify his fears and share with him those of his people. He rears up, kicking helplessly at the air as the glowing green and purple of his eyes is momentarily replaced by yellow. Next to me, Luna's eyes glow and Sombra grips his head as the conflicting emotions give him a nasty case of cognitive dissonance.

And then Guy hits him and he appears to rally for an instant before Geoffrey does the same. His eyes actually clear when Ghia'ta forces him to remember his love of Celestia, and I actually see her face made of violet light over his head. And then Komand'r hits him and the green and purple is sort of back until Ub'x hits him as well.

It doesn't seem to be doing much other than bewildering him.

Alright.

The white light isn't just all the colours stuck together, it's their synthesis. And only two of us have experienced it, so…
I guess it's up to me.
The white light is life itself, all the things that give existence substance. It's the opposite of Anti-Life, which claims that existence is self-defeating. With whatever 'evil' that stuff infesting him is, Sombra isn't living as himself at the moment. He's being made something other than what he is by an external force. His true self was a monarch devoted to his people. For a thousand years he served as their protector and sovereign, instilling purpose and virtue.
And from the feel his soul imparts in mine, I wouldn't mind him becoming my brother in law.
He gave up Celestia rather than have her suffer on his behalf, but Ghia'ta can still feel his love for her. Despite that cursed presence telling him to act out, under it all he's still tenaciously striving to live.

Oh my.

There's a surge of light and-

Error.

-the rings blasting Sombra shut down even as the stallion himself falls to the floor.

Ub'x is the first to reach him, performing basic checks by hand while scanning him with his ring. Around us… Komand'r's holding her head while Geoffrey looks the most relaxed he's been since I first met him.

"Sister?"

Koriand'r looks at Komand'r in concern, a look that doesn't change when Komand'r turns around and hugs her. Doesn't stop her hugging back, though.

Sombra groans, prompting Ub'x to look at me and nod. I grin, and-. There they are. I motion Other Celestia and Other Luna closer. Other Celestia gets closest, her muzzle closest to his when his eyes blearily open.

"C-celestia?"

"Yes, I-. Not your Celestia, but-. You freed me from the evil magic possessing me. Thank you."

"I'm-." He appears to take stock of himself. "I appear… To be myself. Is this..?"

I nod, grinning. "Permanent, and I've got a portal available. You can nip back and forth as much as you and Celestia want."

"Really?" He smiles, taking in the people surrounding him and noticing my Luna for the first time. He looks at her for confirmation, and she nods.

Actually, why delay the reunion? Mother Box, boom tube to wherever Celestia is.

Ping!

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
15:57 GMT

And… Done.

It's interesting, watching the response of the locals to magnetic fields that I can't ordinarily see. When they recover, they'll sort of crawl up to a barrier as if to check that it's really there and then collapse. Either from relief or the need to sleep. And they'll do that even if they're right next to someone who was trying to beat them to death only a few minutes before but is now doing the exact same thing that they are.

I've brought peace to a world at war with a few million miles of conductive cable.

I take a moment to sigh, then fly back towards the government building.

"Illustres to Orion and Darkstar Nguyen. I'm mostly done. Any news?"

"Liana was happy to hear that the planet was getting fixed."

"Good show. I don't suppose-."

"She's also taken advantage of her open schedule to start a family."

"So that's a 'no' to joining our Corps?"

"She didn't sound interested. We might have got her if there was still work to do…"

"If she doesn't want it then she doesn't want it. And it's probably best not to leave a rookie to their own devices with an orange ring, especially with young children. Did she know anywhere else she might have found Butcher's Blood?"

"I got her to forward me psychology surveys from the more developed worlds in this Sector. No obvious signs. And there aren't any reports from the rest that stand out either. The Free Lancers haven't been here long, but I've got logs of their movement in case it's relevant."

"Suspicious activity on their part?"

"Nothing that anyone's reported on. I can't track everything they've done, but there weren't any anomalies in the local crime statistics. What are you planning?"

"We don't have a cooperation agreement with any local government and it's not clear that they've committed a crime. We need to find out what the heck they're doing with the Butcher's residue… How they're containing it in the first place. Depending on the answer we either monitor them or remove it from their possession. And… Maybe try and find some work for them, because they're clearly highly capable people."

I land in the government… Tower? The three officials are still here, and while they don't seem upbeat, they do look a little less surly than they were before.

"That's done, according to specifications."

The one on the left grunts in grudging acceptance.

"Good. Fine. Leaving now?"

"Just need to pick up the things I came here to get in the first place first. Do you have any legends or stories about members of your species being filled with insane rage?"

"No. Pretty normal."

The one on the right thinks for a moment. "Very old stories. Because magnetic field had two poles a long time ago. And sometimes brain not work right. Can't feel magnetic field properly."

"Right, well, thank you. I'll have one last look around and then get out-. Off your planet. Have a nice day!"

I fly back out-.

"Nothing helpful from them, either."

"No. Goodness knows how I'm going to find anything."

"I haven't found any teleport residue, so it doesn't look like they stole anything."

"But we can't ask the locals. Are you at their landing site?"

"Yes."

"Be with you-"

Alien desire systems stand out.

"-now."

Her helmet turns my way as the robots that were laying the cables begin to congregate and shut themselves down.

"Can you do that to find them?"

"Not reliably. I didn't get a good enough feel for them. And they might have prepared for it."

Wait a.. moment.

"Orion? Are you there?"

"Ping."

"Ah. Okay, but I don't speak Mother Box?"

"I am here. I was trying to ask the Source if there was any of the Butcher's blood remaining, since we cannot detect it directly."

"I didn't know you could do that."

"I am not Highfather. The answers I can get are… Indirect. Impressions of reality."

"Okay. And?"

"There is a diffuse… Presence here. On Volkreg, the anger of the miners drew it out. Here, it doesn't work like that. It's something in the ionosphere."

"I'm not going to argue with the Source. Should be easy enough for me to create a high altitude electrical storm with some of the millions of tonnes of ash I picked up. Do you think that would do it?"

"We shall see."

"Okay, ah, Jade? Do you want to stay on the planet's surface while I-?"

"Release the rage of a mad rage elemental on a planet where a few hours ago everyone was trying to murder everyone else?"

"Yes."

"I'll wait with Orion."

I attach a tether to her and transition us both outside of the atmosphere. And Orion is… There. Another transition and I release Jade. A Darkstar's exo-mantle has a flight system and is tough enough to enable the wearer to survive re-entry, but it doesn't have interstellar capacity.

Hm. Using a standard model of atmospheric activity to work out what effect changing the planet's magnetic field would do… I can easily gather up this sort of quantity of ash after I'm finished. I could use native material, but I'd rather not mess around with that if it might make the locals go crazy again.

Okay, dumping ash over a wide-but-not-too-wide-area… Add an electrical charge to get things moving-. Yes, there we go. And back off a little.

I turn to Orion. "Any good?"

"The Source did not tell me precisely."

Wait… The minister said that their world used to be bipolar, and then changed. But that change would have been long after the Butcher's visit. The planet's bipolar again, but I've just spent hours creating magnetic fields so in effect it isn't.

I send construct magnets outwards, and carefully exclude any magnetic influence that isn't from the north-south-. No, wait, other way around. I exclude everything and imply that there's a south-north system in place-.

And this time the rage comes like a rampaging bull, and I think that I'm seeing an echo of the Butcher itself. For a moment there's RIP and TEAR and PAIN before it vanishes, leaving me-.

"Jade?"

She's-. It looks like she was beating the outside of my armour with her fists.

"Are you alright."

She floats back a little, staring at me.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I should have predicted-."

"So should I. It-."

"Ping."

Orion-. He's doubled over, fists balled and jaw clenched. Slowly, all too slowly, he unclenches and straightens out.

"Done. We are done, and shall return to Maltus. Mother Box!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
20:34 GMT

Luna and I sit on a bench in the palace gardens. Somewhere in the palace behind us Celestia and Sombra are getting reacquainted.

Eh.

Probably 'reacquainted' and not 'reacquainted', on the grounds that a swarm of bats haven't flown past us. Or a cloud of dust.

"Why are you smirking?"

"Do ponies have step ladders?"

That gets me a curious frown. "You know that we have ladders." I don't meet her eyes, keeping my face entirely stationary. "Will We regret asking?"

Then I grin. "I don't know. Ask and find out."

She considers for a moment and then turns her head away, rolling her eyes.

"Worry not, We have deduced it."

"You don't want to check?"

"King Sombra is an umbrum. Our sister's beau merely maintained his morals rather than reverting to type."

"Yes?"

"He can assume the form of a cloud. We doubt that he will struggle in…" She hesitates to find words that she's comfortable using. "…gaining height. And We are reasonably confident that Our Sister can alter her height, should that…"

She squirms uncomfortably.

"Should that be required. Hm." Her horn glows, and the atomic pocket watch I got her appears out of her magic pocket. "And now it is time to raise the moon."

"You think that Celestia is going to handle the sun, or… Do you think she's occ-?"

"We do not want to speculate on Our Sister's… Habits."

"They're not really 'habits' if she hasn't done them for a thousand-."

"That is enough! We-." The glow around her horn flickers. "Ah. It-."

"It..?"

"Appears that she is occupied. The magic of her former student is reaching for the sun, with her blessing."

Luna gets off the bench and takes a few steps forward. Then her wings flare as her entire body glows with her magic aura. Three wing beats and the moon is hoisted and the sun lowered.

"WOOHOO!"

I jerk my head around to look at the palace, where Sunset's silhouette is jumping up and down behind the curtains.

"Sounds like Sombra does good wor-."

Luna bats me with her wing as she retakes her place. "That was Sunset Shimmer, as well you know. Do you think that granting her that privilege will improve her relations with Our Sister in some way?"

"It's a pretty clear sign that she trusts her. You know, to handle the sun and not try switching to a heliocentric model on her own initiative."

"Wouldst..? She..?"

"Probably not, but I'll remember to have Jean notify me if she starts using my mountain's computers to model the process, just in case." I tilt my head back, taking in the night sky. "Huh."

"Have you some observation to make about Our work?"

"Oh, no. No. No."

"What?"

"Well, it's just…" I raise my right forehoof. "That one there. It makes a perfect pattern with the stars around it, but… Then you've got that formation over there which makes a strong line across the sky, and if your eye keeps going, that star nearly-but-not-quite lines up with it. It just… It just takes you out of it a little, you know? It's not, like… Bad, or anything…"

"Hmm." She rubs her chin with her right hoof. "We… Think We see what you mean. It would only be visible in such a light from certain positions on the ground, but… We may be able to change it."

"Nah, don't worry, I got it. Ring, delete C Seven."

"By your command."

The star vanishes, and I keep my face extremely still as Luna's jaw falls open.

"A-?"

"There, see, now they're clearly separate shapes."

"A-?"

"What do you think?"

"Aaaaaaa-?"

I turn my head to look at her with an expression of innocent concern on my muzzle. "Are you alright? Did you swallow something the wrong way?"

"How-?" Her horn shimmers. "How-? No. Wait. We can still feel-."

I fall off the bench. "HAhahahahaha!"

"What-? What hast thou done, oh infernal kelpie-limmer!"

I roll over, my eyes clouded by tears!

Luna picks me up with thaumokinesis, forcing me to look her in the eyes. When it becomes clear that I'm still going to laugh, she shakes me back and forth in an attempt to snap me out of it.

"EXPLAIN THYSELF!"

"Uh. Sister?" We both turn our heads as a concerned Celesia and a puzzled Sombra approach from the palace. "Is there..? Ah…"

Without turning her head, Luna points her right forehoof in the direction of the now-absent star.

"That!"

They look at the empty sky, then back at me. And I really do try to get it together.

"I had my people fabricate a big metal sheet and use a hush tube to put it in near-Wilson space so I could just shift it a little and block the light from the star! It's still visible from just about everywhere else!"

"Ghk!"

Celestia snerks, then swiftly covers her mouth with a hoof when Luna flashes her a look of shocked betrayal. Sombra nervously looks like he's thinking about laughing too.

"It took so much time on the fabricator that three villages starved to death from the lack of farming tools! Hah!"

Luna's face hardens as she drops me on my haunches. "Thou art lying."

"Of course I am. It was only one-."

"Silence! Silence. We are contemplating the form of thy punishment."

"Sister, turnabout is fair play." Celestia has her face back under control. "Perhaps it would be sporting to prank Grayven back?"

"Will you..? Aid us?"

Celestia smiles pleasantly at me.

"I would be delighted to."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
16:04 GMT

There's Turi, as airless and rocky as ever. And there's Draan Del Daar's laboratory. And a little way away to my right is the most secure planet in N.E.M.O., its largest shipyard and the densest concentration of Lanterns in the universe and I'm still concerned.

But I founded a Corps because we can do more together than I can on my own.

"Illustres to Clarissi Dox."

"Report."

"I've gathered what the maltusian Draan Del Daar needs to forge a red power ring. It might be worth having a few more spiritually resilient Lanterns on hand just in case something goes wrong."

His eyes narrow very faintly. "Such as?"

"A tremendous explosion of rage which temporarily disrupts our ability to use the orange light. It's not likely, but something's off about this situation."

"I will have Lantern Ragnar call a halt to ring training, and place a fleet on alert. Have a care."

"Will do, sir. Thank you. End. Ring, call Kalmin."

"What?"

"I've talked a maltusian into making a red power ring. Do you want to watch?"

He glowers, then hesitates, thinking it over. "Yes. It will be interesting to compare techniques. He's on Turi?"

"Yes. I'll see you shortly. End."

"A qwardian?" Orion's helmet covers his face, but he sounds unhappy. "Are you trying to redeem him?"

I hear Jade make an amused snort, though I don't know whether that was transmitted to Orion as well.

"Harm mitigation. He's always going to want to destroy things, but this way he's destroying the Reach instead of orphanages. And he's done-."

"Orphanages?"

"I recently visited a planet where he amped up the ambient fear until their civilisation collapsed and their population died off."

"You made such a devil a part of your Corps?"

"Yes. Would you like me to show you the ship's he's designed, and the estimates of the number of lives they've saved?"

"And you think that justifies his presence here?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure by what standard it could be justified in any absolute sense, but he's doing good work for us. It justifies it for me."

Orion's jaw hardens-.

Ping.

"And if it helps, he destroyed the qwardian ruling class almost single-handedly, because he doesn't care what he destroys as long as he is destroying."

"Oh? Does the 'New God' object to my behaviour?" Kalmin brought his hammer with him, but it's currently in the 'at rest' position. "Don't think for a moment that I'm under their protection. You can come at me whenever you want."

Orion's grip on his astro-harness-.

"After we've used the red ring to remove the Anti-Life from Earth. Prioritise, Orion."

Ping.

Orion locks eyes with Kalmin for a moment, then turns his head just enough that he can glare at me from the corner of his eyes. "I am disappointed."

Then he flies, swooping down towards the laboratory, as I feel… Like I've let someone down.

I shake my head. I haven't made any undertaking to New Genesis about who I will and won't recruit now, much less when I was starting out.

"I hope the maltusian is more interesting."

Kalmin raises his hammer, and vanishes.

"While we're on the subject of working with monsters…"

"You're not a monster, Jade. Even at your worst-."

"Thank you, but I wasn't thinking about me. Did you kill Ra's al Ghul?"

"Ah, no? Didn't I..? Tell you..?"

"You did, but there were Justice League people around."

"I'm not totally sure that he's dead, but I suspect that Nylor Truggs killed him and a bunch of other people with his robots. And despite his skills, Ra's al Ghul isn't-. Wouldn't be anything like as useful as Kalmin."

She appears to accept that. I point towards the laboratory.

"Shall we?"

She nods, and I transition both of us down. And… It's a workshop. Some of the machinery I recognise from Hinon's workshop. Others I don't recognise at all. On the plus side, I was half-expecting to see the Free Lancer's ship here and it isn't. On the negative, no Draan Del Daar.

Something that clearly hasn't improved Orion's mood.

"Did you not tell him that we were ready?"

"No, I told him." I shake my head. "Illustres to Draan-"

Kalmin looks around, then walks over to a point near a seven-dimensional quantum disentangler.

"-Del Darr. We're here?"

Kalmin jerks his right hand towards the floor, qwa energy flaring and annihilating all that's in its way! What is he-?

An armoured… Airlock? Door?

"I see that Kalmin has found the door. Please, come-" The airlock opens. "-and join me."

"Foolish maltusian." Kalmin jumps through. "An ominous doorway? Who do you think I am?"

"This grows tiresome."

Orion flies down after him, and Jade and I follow after that.

Inside is a straight flight down, the walls of the corridor undulating around us as it separates the vacuum outside from… Yes, breathable air inside. We're… Quite a way inside Turi's body now, and I can see up ahead where the maltusian structure ends and… Some new construction begins.

Kalmin's already out at the far end, examining the walls.

"A qwardian structure? Have you been dealing with m-?" He pulls back from the wall, a pale brown energy shield appearing around him. "With my..?"

He collapses to the ground.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
16:09 GMT

I try scanning him, only to have his personal shield baffle my effort. Touching him-.

Jade starts to reach out, then stops herself and drops her hand.

Trying to touch him when he's got a force field I don't recognise active would be a bad and quite possibly terminal idea. It's eaten through the bit of the… Deck? It's… Is this stone? But only a little way, because Kalmin's far too capable a technologist to set a disintegration field to 'just keep going' unless that's useful.

"Dead?"

Orion doesn't sound particularly concerned.

"I can't tell. His shield-."

"Ah, I'd almost forgotten that Weaponers could sense the machines of war, if they were powerful enough."

News to… Me. "Draan Del Daar, would you mind explaining?"

"I didn't invite a Weaponer into a maltusian's workshop. You can hardly blame me if he suffers some ill-effects."

"Right. I thought that your workshop was the room on the surface."

"At my age? That's barely a foot locker."

"So..? Where do you want us?"

Guiding lights appear along the corridors ahead.

"This way. Leave the Weaponer there or bring him; it makes no difference to me. Though I imagine that he might find it quite interesting, if he regains consciousness."

Yes, yes, we're being betrayed.

I try scanning through the surface of the moon, and get nothing. The corridor behind us has firmly closed.

Hm.

He's a maltusian. He doesn't have any material desires that he can't meet himself. Members of the actual Controller faction compete for influence and renown through taking positions and proving them viable. That's why Hinon has seniority at the moment and the guy who founded the Darkstars is number two. Killing useful assets reduces that, and while I doubt that killing us would actually trouble him, he wouldn't do it as a result of acquisitiveness. I don't think that I have anything that he wants. If he was interested in the orange light there's an Orange Central Power Battery sitting in the open for him to look at. It's advertising for unaligned maltusians anyway, no one's going to stop him studying it or connecting himself to it.

Turns out that I can't guess the motives of a being millions of years old.

Ah, crumblers under the floor that's under Kalmin, cut through and pick him up… Yes, that worked, and now I can carry him along. I-.

"I should have known that we would face betrayal."

"Yeah, I feel the same way."

Jade turns her helmet my way. "You weren't expecting it?"

"It's just… So illogical." I turn to Orion. "Up to you. He's clearly up to something crazy, but I don't know what and I still want that ring. If you say 'no', I'll do my level best to return you to New Genesis at once."

He regards me cautiously. Measure of a Man.

He keeps regarding me. Once Bitten, Thrice Shy.

Then he turns towards the path. "No. We will finish this. If this is mere mummery then I will merely express my displeasure at his gamesmanship. If he acts against me, then he will not leave here alive."

He powers up his astro-harness and shoots down the corridor.

"After he..? Makes the ring?"

"There are plenty of other maltusians, Paul."

"It's a specialist-. Shall we?"

She nods, and we accelerate after Orion with Kalmin floating along like a trailer.

"It's a specialist subject. Most power ring specialists either stayed Guardian or are Controllers because that's where the specialty gets used. There are actually only three on Maltus who could make a red ring within a reasonable timeframe, and the others are even more neurotic. And so far, he hasn't actually done anything to us other than be a bit cagey and annoying."

"Do you think that's all he'll do?"

"Not in a million years."

We catch up with Orion, and… There isn't really a lot to say. Ring scans are returning nothing at all helpful. The walls look like they're made of stone blocks, but since we've got air and gravity-.

"Draan Del Daar, this isn't some sort of maltusian bachelor pad, is it? The design is very gothic but-."

"No. It doesn't like being changed."

"'Maltusian bachelor pad'?"

"I know they breed like pandas, but the core motivating factors of organic life must be in there somewhere."

"I've long since moved beyond such things."

"You know, a few years ago I more or less shut down my sex drive so that I wouldn't be distracted from my work." I shake my head. "It's not a good idea."

"Again, speak to me when you are a million years old. Ah, you've arrived."

There's a door of… Some sort of highly sophisticated material that I can't scan. It splits into twelve sections, each sliding into the surrounding wall to reveal a short corridor leading to a metal-lined chamber. Two… Troughs? Of glowing red… Stuff, sit on either side of a ring-forge, the contents looking like a cross between a liquid and a construct.

Did he..? Already have this?

Orion is incensed. "If you already had the Butcher's essence, why did you send us on that quest!?"

"Because you could absorb what was left, and create a link between yourself and the Butcher Entity. It will improve the quality of the ring."

"Then why are you not here?"

"I am here. Just… Diffuse. I will be overseeing the process, but I will need you to carry out some of the physical actions."

Orion turns to me. "Lantern, is that plausible?"

"Krona was punished with dematerialisation, so that's something that maltusians can undergo and survive. Hinon implied to me that a ring forged for a specific person will respond better, but she's never said anything about one I make being better for me."

"That is because I do not precisely feel rage or hatred any longer, while Hinon Hee Hannanan continues to feel avarice. Age takes its toll, even on us."

"I've forged rings before. It didn't cause me any harm. It should be fine; just keep your focus."

Orion nods, and flies over to the forge.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
16:18 GMT

Thin tron lines glow red as Orion raises and lowers the hammer, his jaw tense.

"You must focus on each part of your anger and hate. Remember each slight and abusing. Picture them clearly as you swing the hammer."

Given that he's had no training for this or experience with a power ring, Orion's current record of five unified strikes seems pretty reasonable to me.

"Your manners try my patience."

"Then get angry! There is no need to contain yourself here, godling. Use your passions to fuel your labours!"

Orion brings the hammer down with a little more force this time, but the tiny fragment of ring that had already been created shatters from the mismatch of emotion.

Ping.

Orion's jaw trembles for a moment as the red dust evaporates from the force, but he takes a moment and then raises the hammer once more.

I'm not sure that's the best approach. I'd start with a skeleton of things that make him angry now, and build more complex things from there. But I don't know anything like as much about the red light as I do the orange. Or maybe he's just trying to wind-

Jade taps my left gauntlet.

-Orion up?

She continues to tap… Morse code.

Did he get the red material from the Free Lancers?

Hm. It would make a certain amount of sense. I assumed that they used the gates to get to Sector Five One Nine Seven, but Draan Del Daar could quite easily have moved them himself. And while this system's detection network is pretty darn good, we've never tested it against a hostile maltusian. He could teleport them to this highly shielded underground base without being spotted.

So it's possible. Can I gather more information?

Ping.

I can't see through the walls. More limited scans aren't showing me any traces of their emotions or biology. What..? Else..?

It's his motive again. If he was sending the Free Lancers anyway, was it a fluke? They definitely got to Volkreg before we did. Did he hear that I was asking Kalmin about other rings? Was me doing this just a happy coincidence as far as he was concerned? I mean, Hinon's been making waves, so it's… Not out of the question. Except… I saw orange from him earlier, but no red.

Ah. The red images were slightly different in each location. It might be possible to use empathic vision on them directly to get an idea of whether they're from the places we visited. And it they are…

Ping.

Then I'll be justified in questioning him more aggressively.

It might disrupt what Orion's doing, but given his current success rate I doubt that it will make much difference. Alright. Crank up the empathic vision and see what I can-

The bull lowers its horns and charges and RIP and TEAR and PAIN!

-seeow.

Ping.

That was… Pretty similar. The rampant bull featured pretty strongly, but then again, when would the Butcher not be rampant?

I tap back 'Uncertain, but probably'.

"I am hitting the forge as you insist."

"Any fool can hit a forge with a hammer! I need you to hit it with your soul!"

Ping.

"You want me to..?"

Ping. … Ping.

"You're a new god, aren't you?"

"Very well, then." RIGHTEOUS FURY!

The hammers begins glowing a faint red as he strikes the anvil once again.

"I will show you." DIVINE CHASTISEMENT!

Ping ping ping.

"The full extent of my rage!" GODLY WRATH!

The hammer lights up, tron lines shining with blinding light! The forge glows as well, and I can see whatever it is in the troughs flowing to the forge in a series of flickering, rage-filled images.

Jade jerks away, hands clenching into fists and her body crouching slightly as she tries to keep it from affecting her. I'm-.

I'm. No Ophidian. But I… I'm not feeling angry myself. Why aren't..?

I raise my right arm, empathic vision turned up. I can't normally see myself in the way I see other people, but-. Ah. Red light swirls and… It's trying to attach itself to me but it isn't finding anything to attach to before flowing away, drawn to the far angrier Orion and... Jade.

Does this happen when I make a ring? That could be a problem.

Ping.

I turn away from Orion, who continues to swing his hammer with greater ferocity even as he completely loses his rhythm.

Ping!

"That's the spirit! I can nearly feel it myself!"

"Jade?"

"It's-. Making me think of all the things you do that make me angry."

"Normally, I'd be happy to talk about them and see if we can resolve the-."

Her helmet comes up so she can make eye contact through our visors. "That's one of them."

"The underlying issue, but as Orion said, anger feeds anger."

"What keeps it out? Tell me!"

Ping!

In her case? I'd like to say love, but I'm a little more self-aware than that. Given her life to date, not fear or compassion-. Alan. She always seemed relaxed around him, even when he was wearing his ring.

"Hope. Your emotions are the way they are as a reaction against your father. Embrace the idea that you can be a new person. Remember how you-" She nods. "-feel around Alan. Hold on to that."

"It's not… Easy."

Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

"INFERNAL DEVICE, CEASE YOUR INCESSANT SQUAWKING!"

Orion uses his left hand to rip his Mother Box from his belt and hurl it-.

I try to use a construct to catch it, but it's too slow to form. Instead I activate my armour's flight system and catch it.

Ping.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Orion tosses his hammer into the wall, cratering it up to the handle!

"I MEANT EVERYTHING!"

And then his face starts to… Change.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
16:22 GMT

Red light flows freely from the troughs, running into his body. The… 'Ears' on his helmet grow as they slide forwards, the faceplate extends downwards and the material of its construction takes on a more bone-like appearance as it… Merges with his face. His clothing had looked like it was made of a soft material, but now it expands with red armoured plates growing out of it. The belt grows a decoration of tiny skulls while the uneven surface of the armour suggests.. dripping blood.

His eyes are glowing red and I'm pretty sure that this isn't supposed to happen.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!"

But I'm still not feeling anger. And he's referring to himself in the singular and-.

"Orion, are you-?"

He tilts his head back and breathes construct fire, the flames enveloping the upper portion of the room.

"FACE ME DRAAN DEL DAAR!" STAND BEFORE ME, COWARD!

Space shudders as Draan precipitates out of the air, staggering a pace as he lands and patting out the flames from his robes.

"Yes! YES!" Draan spreads his arms out wide! "SET ME ON FIRE WITH YOUR RAGE!"

I don't know-. Okay, I don't think that Orion is possessed or… Acting as a host. He's just internalised the red light-. Which is what I was seeing, I just didn't take into account that there might be other changes.

Oh dear.

Orion grabs Draan by the neck with his right hand, lifting him off the ground. His eyes fix themselves on me.

"AND YOU, LANTERN! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?!"

"No."

He-. Move!

He leaps at me, swinging Draan as a bludgeoning weapon through the space I just occupied! Draan's legs hit the floor and I'm sure that if he were any vaguely normal humanoid his legs would be jelly along with his neck. Instead he's… Grinning.

Ping.

"Draan, what the-"

Orion swings again, Draan's body glowing as it clips-. Agh! My armour, which gets a chunk gouged out of it as a result.

"-heck are you-"

Orion holds out his left hand and a great axe appears in it. Not a construct axe, he just manifested a physical axe-. With more reach! Back up back up!

"YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

"Yyyeeeeesssss…"

Ping.

He swings again, and this time I catch the haft of his axe in the prongs of a construct bident-.

Ah.

And am reminded that he has super strength and I don't by being slammed against the wall on the far side of the room!

Orion death-glares me before throwing Draan to the ground and switching his axe to a two-handed grip. The axe glows a furious red as he swings it down!

"BE SMOTE FROM THE UNIVERSE!" "BE SMOTE FROM THE UNIVERSE!"

I throw out a beam of orange energy to try and block the axe, but he cleaves through it and slams the blade deep into Draan's chest!

And Draan wraps his hands around the haft.

"Finally-ah. It's been so long since I last felt pain. I'd forgotten-."

Orion tries to pull the axe back for a second swing, but it… Looks like Draan's strong enough to stop him.

"Forgotten what it felt like. And now I'm starting to remember what it was like to get angry."

Ping.

Orion tugs harder on the axe, but it doesn't move at all.

"Is that what this was about?"

"Hinon told you about her false face. The way she pretends to be a crotchety old.. human.. woman… Because you young species get confused when she behaves like herself."

Orion stamps his right foot on Draan's stomach and heaves… To no avail. And the red light is starting to flow through him and into Draan.

"I don't see the link. You want anger? The red light?"

"I want my passion back. I hunted the Butcher for centuries, from civilisation to civilisation, from soul to soul! And by the end it hated me more than anyone else in the history of the universe! You know what it did to me, don't you?"

I can guess.

"It barred you from using its light."

"For so long I couldn't even remember why it mattered. And then I didn't think it could be fixed. But you've got this strange knack-."

Orion tries to let go, only to find that his hands are stuck.

"Oh no you don't. That glorious anger is completely wasted on you, isn't it, you petulant child? Not the slightest scrap of self-mastery."

"If you'd told us this was what you wanted, we would have helped you voluntarily."

"That's not how it works. It needed to be engrafted, and he needed to be angry at me."

"Okay, and… Then what?"

"And then I express myself"

I'm going to be having words with Hinon after this.

"'Express yourself' as in..?"

"This is a very… Angry… Bachelor pad. With guns that will ruin the whole of Maltus."

"What did we ever do to you?"

"I'm too angry to care."

Yes, this is much worse than I thought.

Ping.

Well, thank you, but that doesn't actually-

Jade shoots him in the head to no effect.

-help.

"Come on, war godling." Draan grins up at Orion, small flecks of yellow blood spitting from his lips and seeping from the wound in his chest. "Give me everything."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
16:25 GMT

"Uh."

Kalmin forces himself up on all fours as Orion writhes in Draan's hold.

"What did you do to..? Me?"

"Nothing."

He rises to his feet, his force field shutting off. "Disappointing. A minor manifestation of the Butcher Entity. Is the maltusian trying to bond with this battle station's central intelligence?"

"Not according to him. Ever killed a maltusian?"

He jerks his head my way.

"On Qward, that would be a marriage proposal."

He raises his right hand, a qwa bolt forming in an instant-. And then falling apart, the energy being drawn upwards into a device mounted in the ceiling.

"That's never happened bef-. No matter." He strides forward with his hammer at the ready. "I will-."

He shudders, dropping to one knee and staring ahead.

"How could-?"

Draan grins through bloody teeth. "You don't remember it, qwardian? Given how well you've internalised the Anti-Monitor's creed, there can't be that many weapon systems that have such an effect on you."

"The Void Hound. It's… Here."

"It has been for some considerable time. Your master gave it excellent disguise systems."

He… Stands, pushing the weakening Orion back even as he keeps the axe in his chest.

I fire an energy beam at his face. It hits… For about a fraction of a second, then it just… Stops, a few millimetres away from his skin.

"You can't touch the Ophidan here, can you? She would be a threat."

Orion collapses to his knees, and Draan casually checks the levels in the troughs. That's an obvious approach. But-.

I make eye contact with Jade and try to surreptitiously offer her the Mother Box.

"Nearly done."

Assimilate troughs.

Thick beams of orange light flash out, striking-. A force field, which causes my constructs to fade away. Alright, crumblers-.

"Do you really think that primitive technology will work?"

"It usually does."

He releases his left hand's grip on the axe and uses it to shove Orion over. Orion drops, falling onto his back and struggling to move. Then Draan pulls the axe out of his chest and holds it up to examine it, blood still coating the blade. It takes a moment or two, but his robes mend themselves and the wound appears to close.

Jade takes the Mother Box from me as Draan fixes me with a stare, his eyes glowing red.

"You have no idea how right this feels."

"I removed my own ability to desire things when I separated myself from the Ophidian."

"Could you maintain it for a billion years?"

"No, but humans aren't designed to live as long as maltusians. We experience time differently."

Jade scuttles around the room to-. No, wait, why are you giving that to Kalmin? Draan doesn't look at her, but I don't think for a moment that he isn't aware of her.

"I'll let you out in a billion years and see how you feel."

He tosses the axe aside as he turns away, striding out through a newly-opened door in the far side of the room which closes securely behind him.

Oh dear.

I get a purple healing ray out of subspace and start shooting Orion with it.

"Kalmin, where are we?"

"We are inside Erdammeru. The Void Hound. An AI controlled battle station of colossal power. Ranx might be regarded as a cheap knock-off, though I suspect that its original specifications might have been similar."

He pokes the Mother Box.

Ping.

Kalmin grunts and raises his right hand, the qwa-energy that had been dismissed raining back down and reforming into a bolt. He checks it for a moment, then nods in satisfaction.

"Is it powerful enough to destroy Maltus?"

"Possibly. I only know it from very old legends which I could never fully investigate."

"How do we stop it?"

"Kill the organic creature directing it. Or the beast-mind itself. Otherwise, unleash a wave of destructive energy powerful enough to atomize it."

"Would qwa-matter work?"

For a moment he looks… Lost.

"Not if what the maltusian said is true. If the Anti-Monitor built this, for… Whatever reason he saw fit, his gifts will not avail me."

"And you couldn't kill Draan because..?"

"He is the ship's controller. Until that relationship is broken-." He growls quietly. "Without my full workshop, there is little I can do against him."

"Have you finished with the Mother Box?"

"No. Its sensors aren't being disrupted by Erdammeru. I want to listen as Maltus dies."

Jade snatches it back, then brings it closer to Orion.

Ping.

"Aaaaaaaaah…"

He's looking a little healthier, but his face and clothing… Haven't changed back. If they haven't changed back…

"Mother Box? Is Draan still… Connected to Orion?"

"Ping."

"Stole it? But it's still Orion's, right?"

"Ping."

"You were helping Orion suppress his rage, weren't you?"

"Ping?"

"Can you help him remember it instead?"

"… Ping."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
16:28 GMT

"My… Face."

"We can fix that."

"No." His right hand comes up and feels his right horn. "I am a New God. Our bodies don't change once we reach maturity. Unless some greater power… Warps us. Highfather once had black hair, but it changed after his contact with the Source."

"So..?"

"The anger I absorbed was so intense that it changed something fundamental in me. And then Draan Del Daar took it. I am free of my rage for the first time in my life, and I want nothing more than to get it back."

"Might be able to do that. And since-" I slam another crumbler ram into the door, then the wall, and then the ceiling device to absolutely no effect. "-we can't get out, we may as well give it a try. Do your New God powers still work?"
Strength To Overcome.
Orion perks up slightly. "I am still not myself, but… Yes."

"Okay. I saw the way the Butcher's Blood attached itself to you, when I drew it out of the people on Volkreg. Hopefully, I'll be able to repeat the process. The downside is that doing so will probably send you back into rage mode. Or worse."

"I will remember who I hate the most. Though I will warn you: if I regain the full extent of my rage, I will hold you responsible for your portion of this."

"I didn't know that Draan was going to do anything like this. If Maltus is destroyed, N.E.M.O. will almost certainly collapse, and the Reach will conquer and enslave the entire region. So long as you can focus until he's stopped, you can have it out with me afterwards."
Slay The Greater Evil.
"That, I can do."

"Kalmin, can you find the AI core?"

"Easily."

"Alright then. Orion, you're probably going to want that axe."

He gingerly walks over to it, bending down like he has joint pain.

"Is there a reason that you're not using your astro-harness? Your blaster could-."

"Using the astro-force requires a spiritual focus that I… Cannot muster like this."

I nod. "Alright, fair enough. Okay, I probably won't be able to connect him to you, but I should be able to generally shape a connection if you can use your own abilities to pull the rage back to you."

"And if he does the same?"

"Don't hit him in the chest with an axe."

"Ping."

"I know it's not helpful, I don't know."

Kalmin hefts his hammer. "You need only convince Erdammeru that you are more in tune with its feral, wrath-filled nature. Then you can use its weapons against Draan Del Daar."

"Would that work?"

"No, but it will distract him while I rend him into his component quanta for making a fool of me."

"Sounds good."

Right. I'd usually do this by accessing the Ophidian and… That's not working. I can't feel the Honden at all. And that should be impossible, but-. Don't know. But I've been studying magic for a while, and my tattoos are designed to connect me to local loci of arcane power. And I've been into the Dream.

I dose myself with the recommended dose of 'vision-assisting' psychoactives, and reach for the structures of my tattoos as if they were physical things. I aim to see the structures of myself as if it were the walls in the Honden. I've done… Things like this before, so…

There.

Now.

Orion still has desires, I still have an orange ring, and I still have a connection. I can-. Huh. The tears in Orion's metaphysique are a lot more visible like this, from where his own red was ripped out and where the new stuff was starting to make itself comfortable.

Okay.

And the entry point in my tattoos looks like that and the pulling shape I used to pull the red light out of the miners looked like this, and I can

Ping.

create the same sort of red-light-drawing structure that I had before. Unless I've misjudged the dose and I'm just tripping at the moment.

Ping.

Thank you.

"Okay, that should do it. Orion, make yourself whole."

"Draan Del Daar, you have taken something from me." "I will have it back. Now."

I can feel the pulling, even as I can't feel what is being pulled. Or see it, or anything else like that. At my neophyte skill level the walls of this room are an impenetrable barrier. I can't grab or pull something I can't see.

But I can suck really hard, with all of my desire and all of Orion's. And I can try sending out a construct lantern because while it's not very likely to kill anything it doesn't cost me anything and it might get lucky.

Yes, Master.

And… I can feel it. I shiver at the sensation of a thundering bull charging towards me with nothing in its tiny bovine mind but trampling me into the dirt, which I imagine is something that Draan himself will do a few moments later if this doesn't work.

And there's the bull, trampling, stomping, and I feel the burning as my tattoos are on fire! Push! Twist! I can see where it can go, where it must go, but anger and hate go where they will!

"Orion!"

Ping.

"My anger belongs to the Source." "And I don't belong to you!"

I see the bull shatter and the small bulls get lassoed into their proper positions and I think that now is a good time to purge those psychoactives, just as long as I keep the pulling force going until we've got it all.

Ping.

Good work.

Ping.

"RAAAAAGH!"

Orion… He's added construct armour and construct knives to the look, as well as Mother Box keeping its position on his skull-belt. Construct fire gutters around his mouth as he brings his axe down to cleave through the doorway.

"Draan Del Dar! Your blood shall be MINE!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
16:31 GMT

The doorway opens before the axe can strike it, allowing Orion to charge through. Kalmin glances at the abandoned astro-harness for a moment before marching after him, with Jade and I flying along behind.

"What's the chance of a full-on manifestation of the Butcher Entity?"

"Given how it fled last time it was here, it seems unlikely. They have memories, as well you know."

I remember the… Strangely calm Red Lantern version of me I met at Vanishing Point. He said he achieved that state by accepting his anger rather than trying to hold it in check or channel it. And he had to connect to the Butcher first.

"Should we leave Orion to fight Draan and head for the bridge?"

Kalmin snorts. "Draan is a maltusian with some sort of connection to Erdammeru. He can find us wherever we go, and unless your exo-mantle has been considerably improved since I reviewed its capacities, you don't have any way to evade him."

Unless…

It used to be the case that maltusians could directly relay their own energy to Darkstars. The practice fell off because the new generation of suits were powerful enough that it wasn't really needed anymore, but…

"Jade, is your suit designed for direct empowerment?"

"It can be empowered, but we can't contact anyone outside of this place. And I doubt that Draan will-."

"Oh, well done Illustres." Kalmin's smiling. "That hadn't even occurred to me."

Jade considers for a moment. "You think you can drain his innate powers the same way you drained his rage?"

"Um."

"DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"I'll have my passion back, now."

"Honestly, I was going to ask Kalmin if he could build something."

"I could pull power out of him and into her, but I can't force him to express it."

"I don't think-"

A wave of energy shoots towards us down the corridor, and Jade and I duck behind a construct barrier I erect.

"-that's going to be a problem."

Something in the waves tries dragging at the power in my construct, but fails to get a grip. I wait until the feeling stops, then drop the barrier and accelerate to-.

Draan is in the air, twisting around an axe swing and then ducking under a gout of fire breath as Orion flies after him with construct wings. Wait, why is Draan dodging? He took the axe fine during their last fight. Because he doesn't have a reservoir of red energy to work from? Because Orion's too powerful for it to work? Because the forge is a couple of miles back?

Draan gestures, and Orion is suddenly a fraction of his size-. Distance, he's warped the distance. He's flying back towards us, but Draan just sneers at his effort-.

Then shudders as Kalmin taps his hammer against Jade's energy intake.

"I-. How have you-?"

He makes a throwing motion with his right hand and I interpose myself, shield constructs, armour plates and the best spatial warps I can manage. Those last just a fraction of a second as the dull grey lightning-.

Fzm!

Jade uses the boost to fire a more powerful maser bolt than her system can usually manage. Draan jerks his head away, but doesn't look injured.

"I won't miss the fool who designed that energy-."

Fires erupt around him as Orion appears, axe raised! Chains leaps out of the inferno and drag at his wrists and ankles as Orion brings his axe down!

CRUNCH!

Orion rips the axe out of Draan's head at once, and-. On any normal being, a skull wound like that would be fatal. But Draan's eyes are still focusing, still-.

Orion exhales, red flames flowing over Draan's body! And this time it takes, his skin blackening and his yellow blood boiling away.

"Wonderful rage…"

Orion brings his axe down once more, and Draan is cleaved in twain.

"RAAAAAAGH!"

Orion brings the axe down again and again and again until it embeds in the floor. Then he stamps and stamps until-

Ping.

-there isn't a great deal left of Draan's body.

Ping.

One more gout of flame, and Orion stops, standing… Very visibly not becalmed.

Ping.

"NO!"

Ping.

"No. I will not turn back having come this far."

He reaches down, running his right forefinger and middle finger through Draan's remains, scooping up a blob of Draan's… Internal liquids. He then reaches up to his bone-plated forehead and… Draws the red sigil with it.

"I have hatred and focus. My hate is for my father first of all. LANTERN!"

"Yes?"

"I will forge the ring. Do not follow me."

No fear.

"Right, ah… Kalmin? We should probably head to the bridge."

"And do what? None of us can commune with Erdammeru."

"Is there a communication system in there?"

"Yes, but using it requires that Erdammeru has accepted a master."

"Alright. In that case, we should go back to the exit and try to-."

A side door opens, and Captain Chance of the Free Lancers strides in.

He stops when he sees the remains on the floor.

"Bollocks. No bonus then, I take it?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
18:13 GMT

Harrow shrugs, his expression suggesting a casual acceptance of events and an easy-come-easy-go attitude. He waves with his manacled hands.

"Illustres! Might I prevail upon you to release a group of honest traders caught up in events far larger than them?"

"It's not impossible that you will be released once our investigation is complete, and we will be expediting matters."

"Not all that reassuring, but it is better than what I was expecting."

Jade shoves him to the ground next to his colleagues, just in front of their ship.

"Alright, you don't have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something that you later rely on in court."

I look over the three of them, Risque's arm bandaged from where Jade shot her when she resisted arrest.

Yes, I could fix it, but I'm not feeling all that companionable right now.

Harrow grins. "Was that a quote?"

"Standard arrest script from my home country. We're stuck on a planetoid-sized war AI built by a being whose primary goal was the conversion of all reality into energy he could consume and the only way to get out is with the help of a rage-maddened war god. I'm not feeling good about that. Are you?"

Chance nods. "We were working on technology to manipulate the lights, like your power rings do. A lot of qwardian stuff on the market right now, if you know where to look for it. The Controller came-."

"He wasn't a Controller. Same species, but it's a political distinction."

Chance shrugs. "Daar came to us. Told us where we needed to be and how to get there. Someone built a couple of long range faster than light-."

"I know, I oversaw their construction."

Harrow nods approvingly. "Help a lot of people, those will."

"And we pick up some stuff for him. Even offered to fix one of the planets."

"Oh, I know. Good work. I completed your plan."

Risque glowers weakly at me. "We haven't done anything wrong and it was one of your people who hired us. What's your problem?"

"You're rapidly getting to the point where we can't risk you treating with our enemies, and given that Draan Del Daar was planning on using this place's primary weapons to destroy Maltus, this counts. Regardless of your criminal status, we might have to confine you as a strategic threat."

Harrow looks away, sighing. "That's the reward for hard work, I suppose."

Kalmin walks out of their ship, looking unimpressed.

"Their workshop isn't terrible, but the ship is severely undergunned. We can't get out that way."

Risque grimaces. "It's not supposed to be a warship."

"Alright. Please, keep an eye on the Free Lancers while I go and talk to Orion."

I fly back towards the forge room. I'm going to need to talk to Hinon about some sort of mental health check for unaligned maltusians when we get out of here, because Draan was clearly suffering for a very long time.

And the other two were supposed to be worse.

I hear the ringing of hammer on anvil as I approach, and I… I can feel it as well. It's… Oppressive, squeezing out other thoughts while somehow being unable to replace them. In my case, at least.

Ping.

"…my father's face."

As I fly in, Orion sets his hammer down… And picks up a red power ring from the forge.

"Done. A more perfect refutation of my father I cannot imagine."

"It's done, then?"

He holds it up to admire it.

"Yes. With this, every trace of my father shall be expunged from the universe." His face turns just enough to allow him to look at me. "And then I can deal with any other vermin."

"Snakes are not, technically, vermin. Just… Just a ring?"

"What else do I need?"

"A personal lantern, if you want to recharge it."

"I am a New God aligned spiritually to the Butcher." He slides the ring on his right ring finger. "I am beyond such limits."

Ping.

"Alright. We're still stuck in here. You're the only person in here angry enough to interface with Erdammeru. Would you mind giving it a go?"

He clenches his right fist, a floating red sigil appearing over his chest.

"I hear it. I will bring it to heel."

Ping.

"It will make an excellent weapon against Darkseid."

He stalks out of the forge chamber, and I assume that he knows where he's going. Nothing much I can do to help him.

That's my red ring, I suppose. Not sure what Izaya's going to say about the physical or psychological state he's in, but I won't exactly be sad if he does tear Apokolips apart with Erdammeru's primary weapons.

I vaguely remember the comic version of this place from a Crime Syndicate comic, and the Syndicate and League beat it because it was stupid enough to focus all of its weapons at a single point in their formation. I also remember it being quite good at blowing up planets.

So. Waiting for yellow. Now I need indigo, and I've got no idea where they hang out. I seem to remember that their homeworld had indigo compassion crystals on the surface, so maybe it's listed in old maltusian records? Ub'x didn't seem to want to talk to me last time, but maybe he was acting on incomplete information? I'm-

We feel the moment that We reconnect to the rest of the universe.

-not that hard a man to work with.

"Orange Lantern to Hinon."

"Done already?"

"Did you know that there was a giant battle station on Turi?"

"What? No? What are you talking about?"

"Sir, I request that you come here in person. You're going to want to see this."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st January 2013
18:55 GMT

I watch as a team of Controllers carefully remove the rock of Turi from around Erdammeru.

"How do you manage it?"

"How did they manage it. I understand that you were in a coma, but that thing must have been put there while the other Controllers were on Maltus."

"No, Maltus was abandoned when this happened. And even we didn't think to check Turi in any detail when we thought that we knew everything there was to know about it."

"Any idea how Draan Del Daar found out?"

"Given that Orion reduced his mortal vessel to pâté, that will be somewhat difficult to decipher. Even our abilities have limits."

"I didn't mean 'can you ask him now', I meant 'can you guess based on his history'. Or-. 'Somewhat difficult'?"

"One of us will attempt to connect to his symbiotes. That… Might give us a better idea. Though I doubt it."

"And what about Erdammeru?"

"I don't intend to try to interrogate that. It's a spacecraft, and therefore it's a problem for the Head of L.E.G.I.O.N.."

"Draan said that it was made by the Anti-Monitor."

"The Anti-Monitor made a great many weapons. I'm far less concerned by this than I was by his armour; this doesn't imply that he might have survived."

I nod, then frown. "Draan said that rings work best when their user makes them."

"If both the user and the prospective alternate ring-founder are of the same skill level. You have some way to go before you can equal me."

"Orion hadn't even touched a power ring before; how could he be Draan's equal in skill?"

"Draan hadn't felt rage in millions of years. It's not just familiarity with the mechanical process of ring-forging. You have to be familiar with the emotion as well."

"Ah." I nod. "I don't suppose that there are any unaligned maltusians who know a lot about compassion, are there?"

"It doesn't seem very likely. You remember what we did to the psions."

"Y-? I'd been assuming that they weren't intelligent at the time."

"They weren't as intelligent as us. But they were more intelligent than the laboratory mice humans use for their tests."

I take a small sealed container out of subspace and open it, looking inside at the broken fragments of half an indigo power ring. Decidedly inactive fragments. I tried putting it near to compassionate people or me when I was being compassionate, but it's… Broken.

"Is that what you got from the Berrith?"

"Yes. Can you tell who made it?"

She pulls it over to her and shakes the contents out onto her left palm.

"Not one of us. And almost certainly not a qwardian."

"Kalmin made a blue ring."

"An act that very nearly made me feel a profoundly disquieting philosophical uncertainty, even at my age."

"Actual philosophical uncertainly, or shell personality-."

"The former."

"Gosh. If that happens enough, would you have a heart attack? Because I think Kalmin would probably go for that."

"No." She takes a closer look at the fragments. "I don't recognise the species. Something that reached sophoncy while I was comatose, then. And… Yes, I think that they had direct contact with the Proselyte. Indirect contact, certainly."

She waves her right hand, and the pieces try to reassemble themselves. They make up most of the left side of the ring, and slightly more than their fair share of the boss.

"The workmanship is excellent; certainly better than anything you've managed."

I roll my eyes.

"That's all I can say, really." She manually slides the fragments back into the container before resealing it. "If you took it to one of the other two potential ring-forgers, they may-."

"I.. think I'll… Give them both a miss."

"You can learn."

She passes the container back to me, and I return it to subspace. So… What now? There isn't much point in me heading back to Earth until I get hold of a yellow ring, and I doubt that Lysis is making me her top priority.

"I don't suppose that there's a big pile of Proselyte blood somewhere?"

"That may be where that ring came from."

"Do you know where that is? Or someone else I could ask?"

"Draan Del Daar would be the man to ask about that. Or you could try the Guardians."

"I will. Any advice on Orion?"

"I understand what you intend. If it works, the white light should restore him." She shakes her head. "If it doesn't, then it can't be done and there's no sense worrying about it."

"I suppose that's right." I nod. "Okay, I'm going to clock off. Spend some time with Jade while we're both unassigned. Contact me-."

"There is one other thing."

"Yes?"

"I spoke to Sayd concerning… Various matters. She asked me to relay her gratitude concerning Volkreg and Azmah. You handled both situations well."

"Ah. Well, it's nice to be appreciated."

"Is that the sort of thing you see yourself doing after the war?"

"I think I'd like to. That, and tourism. How about you?"

"Once the Reach are destroyed I'm not sure that I have anything left to live for."

"What?"

"I'll have proved my point. Done everything that I set out to do. Oh, I won't kill myself if that's what you're worried about. Inertia will keep me going, as it does for the Guardians. But it would be wrong to say that I have something to reach for."

I look at her for a moment, then float closer and hug her for a moment.

When I release her, she looks mildly offended.

"Please, never do that again."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd February 2013
20:12 GMT

I shrug at Jonathan's image on the screen.

"Well, it's an… Interesting answer."

"What's that s'pos ta mean?"

He's glowering, but I think that's his default-glower, rather than his someone's-actually-irritated-him glower.

"It's hard to get people to do something totally new, as opposed to something that's essentially the same as something they were doing anyway. A change in organisation that doesn't change anything at street level would garner far less resistance than a change in rules of engagement that affected everyone."

"Ain't no one gunna complain 'bout getting more respect from the Management."

True, but still…

"An award ceremony, though?"

"Yeah? What? Not putting it on T.V. or nothin'. I figure it's a cultural event, yah know? Something that brings everyone in the whole Syndicate together. And everyone wants ta' be the ones up on the stage sometime."

"Okay, so 'Highest Earner' I get. And 'Most Improved Territory', because if you give someone an underdeveloped area and they do good work turning it around, they should get respect for managing that even if the actual profit isn't all that great. 'Best Fight' works because we are a criminal network, and it encourages people to remember that."

"And 'cause there's people who can't do nuthin' else. Might as well give them respect for it."

"Might I suggest 'Best Fight With An Enemy'? I wouldn't want to reward them for fighting other members of the Syndicate."

He shrugs. "Yeah, that's what it's suppose ta be. You really think someone-."

He cuts himself off as he thinks about it.

"Yeah, okay."

"Now, do you want that to be a single award, or do you want to split it into 'Best Single Combat' and 'Best Group Combat' as separate categories?"

"Ah…" He frowns, his eyes moving away from me. "Maybe? I wanna go through the applications, see what actually gets submitted."

"Okay. And 'Best Covert Operation'."

He shrugs. "What?"

"I'm concerned about giving an award for something 'covert'."

"It's a secret ceremony-."

"Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead, Ultraboy. If we send out hundreds of invitations, word will get out."

"'Best… Surprise Operation'?"

I nod. "That could work. It rewards people with good field leadership skills but who aren't necessarily good business managers. Now, 'Best Revenge'."

"Like you said, we're a criminal syndicate. We gotta get back at the people who get one over on us."

"Yes, but I'm concerned about encouraging revenge attacks that aren't strategically useful. The last thing we want is someone taking a shot at Luthor because they want the award."

Jonathan looks truculent. "Gotta take a shot at him sometime."

Not if I can help it.

"Right, but that's something that takes planning. Strategic planning. We really don't want someone going rogue on something like that."

"Fine. Howsabout 'Best Planned Revenge'? I mean, if they actually pulled it off without blowback, what's the problem?"

"As long as we're clear that it won't be awarded posthumously and normal rules about escalation apply…" I nod. "Alright. We could give it a try and see what happens. 'Best Costume'."

"I never went to the pictures 'cause I heard a movie got an Oscar for 'Best Sound Design'. Not everything gotta be super serious."

"How about restricting it to costumes that were used in the field at least once?"

"Yeah? Why-?" He frowns. "You think people would make costumes just ta win an award?"

"This is about public acknowledgement before their peers. I think we could see some very interesting costumes, and if they don't have to use them in the field then things could get downright silly."

"'kay. Just one time, or fer the whole year?"

"I think just once is okay. It's not a serious award, and if it's something with a big flaw it's better that they be able to correct the problem. 'Best Young Villain', no… Ah, actually, is that limited to Made Men? Because a lot of younger… Younger associates, won't have been 'made' yet."

"Nah. They don't need ta be, but they ain't excluded if they are."

I nod. "Fine. I don't think we should have 'Most Powerful'."

"Why not?"

"Because it undermines the Management if we openly acknowledge that there's someone more powerful out there." He moues, then nods. "I mean, the Management themselves aren't eligible, right?"

"Nah. I get yah, I just really wanted ta do it, yah know? It woulda been one of the big awards. There are Made Men who could take the Management in a fight."

"How about 'Best Display Of Power'? The implication's the same, but it's not quite as direct. And it means that whoever's winning it has been using that power in the field."

"I… Lemme workshop it some. See if I can make it work."

I nod. "Okay. 'Best Theft', yeah, no problem. 'Best Use Of A Vehicle'..?"

"Not a big deal. Something anyone can try for."

I nod as I scan down the list. "Okay, and the same with the rest… Yes, I think this idea has legs. Do you want to finalise things, or should I raise the idea with the Management at my next meeting?"

"Lemme get the whole thing planned out first. I wanna be sure I'm ready before I go to the Management."

"You want to do the presentation yourself?" He nods. "Okay, yes, we can make that happen. Let me know-" I hear the door open. "-when you're ready. Ah, Zorina just got back, so-."

"Gotcha." He smiles at me. "I'll call back once I'm ready."

The screen goes dead as I stand up and walk out of my study and onto the landing. Zorina and Zita are just coming in the front door, and Zita's fast asleep in the basket floating alongside her. "Zorina, how did it go?"

She looks up towards me, frowning slightly as I head down the stairs.

"They think she's a reincarnation. That she had at least two lives before this one."

I frown a little. "Is that..? Unusual? Bad?"

"In Europe?" She nods as I reach her and kiss her on the forehead. "It's a little unusual. Bad… Depends on who she was, and what kind of memories she kept."

"Is she going to remember everything? Is she-?"

Is she our daughter, or effectively a changeling, is what I'm thinking. Is what I'm worrying.

Zorina smiles reassuringly. "No, that's not how it works. She's Zita Zatara, and she-. She won't start remembering anything clearly until she's at least ten. And then, who she is will still be more important than who she was."

I nod, a little relieved. "And her magic?"

"That's not clear. Her last incarnation was a powerful mage, but the one before that wasn't at all. We'll just have to keep an eye on her. Depending on how things go she might regain her second life's magic rather than showing Zatara family magic."

"Did they have any advice for us?"

"Avoid trains, explosions and… Communists, for some reason?"

I frown, then shrug. A hidden coven of witches are the last people who are going to give clear answers. "Alright. I think we can manage that?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Home Field

4th February 2013
11:37 GMT -7

"Hey, man."

I sit down next to the dude laying in the street. That's something Wonder Woman tol' me to do. Makes it so I'm not tower… Ah, taller than them. Less scary.

"H-hey."

"Y'all plannin' on hol'en up traffic all day?"

Ain't a lotta cars 'round. Spent a couple days pullin' cars outta the road so's trucks and ambulances could get through back when this whole mess started. People ain't drivin', 'cept when they got to.

...

Sometimes, they don't go fer a drive when they got to. Wonder Woman don't like us gettin' those jobs so much. I tol' her we can handle it, but, ah… She said robot-atom's little robots can deal with jobs like that. She needs us fer actually talkin' to people.

"Ah 'unno. Can't think of no reason t'move."

And she says that's it. I used to think there was… I dunno, not, like, magic words… Just stuff a smart guy could say to… Like, encourage someone. Like Doc Quinzel did with us. But it turns out jus' talking to someone does nearly the same thing.

And that'll have to do, 'cause I sure as s-sugar ain't going back to school.

I don't know what set this guy off. More guys do this stuff like this than girls. When they get real bad, they don't leave the house at all.

I don't know what this guy needs to hear, neither. But if all I gotta do is talk? I can do that.

"Don't look comfy. It's all gritty and dusty."

"That it is. Ah jus' don't think those things matter none."

"Sure they do. Who wants to do laundry more than they gotta?"

"Heh."

That wasn't no happy kinda laugh, but it's… He's responding. He heard what I said and he said something back.

"What's it to you, anyways?"

"Ah'm working for Wonder Woman. Y'all layin' here makes me look bad."

"That all it is, huh?"

"Sure. 'cause if'n ah do a real good job, maybe ah'll get a kiss out of it."

"Fer real?"

I shrug. "Can't hurt tryin', right?"

Ain't going to happen. She ain't been with a guy in a hundred years, and she treats me like Doc Sivana does. Older Doc Sivana. The woman one, not the little scary guy. She told me to call her 'Venus' and I didn't think that was right, but maybe it's the only way to talk without getting confused the whole time?

Don't rightly know how I feel about it. Got two ladies who want to be my Maw, and they're both better than the real one. Nice when they're doing it, but…

"Guys done dumber before."

"So ah jus' gotta beat those guys, an' I'm set. C'm'on, man." I hold out my right hand. "Where you live? Ah'll take y'all home."

"We lost, didn't we?"

"Ah. Ah don't really keep up with football…"

"You people. Superheroes. That why everyone feels lakh they whole family up an' died."

"Thanks! Ah ain't never been called a superhero 'fore."

Especially around these parts. 'Don't shit where you sleep' sure is good advice, and my life would have worked out better if I'd gotten it earlier. There's a few places I don't really want to go right now because… I don't want to think 'old me' and 'new me', because that's…

What did Doc Quinzel call it..?

Thinking like that stuff was done by someone else. When it wasn't. It was me. Me deciding I don't want to be like that no more don't mean that I wasn't back then. And I know I don't do that stuff no more, but plenty of people don't.

"So what's with the get-up?"

I look down at my shirt. The Anti-Life folks got alla the equipment that was stored in Belle Reve for the prisoners, and we didn't stick around to get our normal clothes back. So the guys who needed equipment got given old versions of their stuff the Justice League had in storage. I got some clothes that the old Doctor Fate had in his trunk. Don't got no idea who owned them. Fate was, like, two thirds my size when he was a hero. And I don't know who picked this stuff, because the round collar jackets make me feel Chinese, and then there's the decoration. It's sewn on and not printed. Whoever made it used gold-coloured thread to make the pictures and it must have taken ages. Looks good, though. But I don't think it's really me.

"Thrift store. Only thing they had that fit me. Guess they had some Chinese strongman who needed cash real quick."

"Got their address?"

He looks at me for a little while, then he reaches out to take my hand and I pull him upright.

"Yeah man, but it's in Massachusetts."

"Oh. Don't worry, then."

"So where'd you live?"

"I-I can make it on mah own. I jus'…"

I try looking like I got sympathy, like I want to know what's got him so down. But this isn't the first time I've dealt with someone doing this. I get a couple a day, every day since the Justice League started sending me out. I can make like I care -and it's not like I want bad things to happen to him or nothing- but I can't make me actually care. I ain't good at it. Can only manage a fistful of people right now.

"What's happ'ning, man?"

"Is this it? Are we doomed? I thought the Justice League would git 'er done in a few days, but..?"

He sighs real heavy.

The truth is… I think Batman's making things up as he goes. And I get it. No one knows how we should deal with this. They don't tell me much about what's going on, but I see how many people are killing themselves. And how many are just doing what Mannheim tells them to, or doing what one of the city bosses tells them to. Just about everyone on Mannheim's side is hostage, and… I don't want to kill them. Even if it would make things a whole lot more simple. So all we can do is destroy their Anti-Life radio things and fight them when they try to take a new town. And run away when F…

Big evil robot dude, shows up. And that sucks. But even I know you can't just tell folks that. Or they just give up.

"Yeah, this whole thing sucks real bad. It's gonna take a whole lotta work to get things straightened out. But a lotta people thought the world was ending when the Sheeda attacked, and we still beat them, right?"

"Yeah."

"So we gotta tough it out. Gotta remember that even if it feels bad now, we're gonna get there in the end. Ah." I shake my head, because I got this speech from a real good speaker and when I do it, it just sounds dumb. "Superman does this better than me. But we're gonna win. You'll see."

"O-okay. Thanks… Thanks, man. Hey, what's yer name, anyhow?"

"Tommy. Tommy T-. Beresford."

"I dunno, man. That ain't exactly Superman, y'hear me? Maybe you should work on it some maw."

"What y'all think ah'm doin' here?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th August 1999
7:23 GMT

"Will ye no' sit down?"

The… Short alien gestures to the human-scale chair opposite him as he takes a sip from his teacup. The table between us is similarly sized for humans, meaning that he's sitting on a wooden highchair.

I… Take a look around the interior of his home. It looks like… Like a country cottage from a century ago. A bookshelf covered in traditionally-bound books, heavy wooden furniture rather than modern chipboard flat packed stuff and… Jars of preserves.

It's not what I was expecting.

"Did ye drop something?"

"No. Ah. Sir?"

This isn't how I thought this would… I give him an awkward smile and sit down in the chair. There's a slight hiss of escaping air as the padding deflates and my weight pushes gas out through the seams in the leather.

"Last time I checked, aye. So. What does the Triarchy want wi' the likes o'me?"

I stare at him for a moment, and he stares back.

"Sir?"

"Is there some communication problem we be having?"

"Sir, I just appeared in orbit with this ring. And then I asked it to take me to…" I gesture to him with both hands. "I… Don't know what the… Triarchy? Is?"

"Is that so? Hah!" He looks away for a moment. "And here's me thinking they'd tracked me down, begorrah!"

That… Doesn't… Sound good. Um.

"Should..? They be tracking you down?"

"I don't see why they would. I like the simple life. And they don't. But sometimes they can't keep themselves to themselves and they stick their noses in for the sake o' it."

"Ah. No. I'm here for purely selfish reasons."

"Oh? Well. I suppose I am too, when you get down to it. So what'll ye be wanting?"

"I-deally, a personal lantern."

"And what might one o'them be?"

Oh.

"The charge unit? That goes with the ring?"

"I don't know anything about anything like that. Back when I left, those rings were for the weans, no' for aliens."

"For what?"

"Children. So I don't really understand how you got a hold of it."

"I would be happy to cooperate with you in investigating that." I sigh. "So you can't recharge it."

"Recharge it? O' course I can recharge it. Let me see, now."

He closes his eyes for a moment and mutters something in a language I don't understand. The green power ring on my finger can translate just about any language, but I turned everything off the moment I realised that I had no way to recharge it once I ran out of power.

"There we are."

A pale green glow envelops his right hand, and a moment later the ring starts glowing the same colour.

"It'll take a moment or two."

"Ah. Thank you, but… Ah."

"You'll be needing to be a little clearer than that."

"I… Sort of assumed that either you wanted me for something, or I could negotiate for a way to recharge with… With something I could carry with me. It doesn't seem… I mean, it isn't reasonable for me to expect you to just drop whatever you're doing when I get low on power."

"A lot o' that going around."

"A lot of..? What?"

"Assuming. So what were you thinking I was wanting?"

"To… Recruit me to the Green Lantern Corps. For some reason."

"And what would that be?"

"I'd… I'd like to say 'my fearlessness and resolution', but… I don't… I don't think I really stand out in either of those…"

"Ah, no. I mean to say, 'what is the Green Lantern Corps', when it's at home?"

"I'm a little surprised that you don't know."

"I moved away from the rest o'mah kind when we still lived on Maltus. I don't know much about what the rest o'them have been doing since."

"Ah. Well, as far as I know, they've taken to outsourcing some things to people like me." I raise my right hand slightly, drawing attention to the ring. "We get these, and a lantern-shaped charge point."

"Lantern-shaped, y'say? I'm not used to the rest o' my kind respecting our traditions like that. Do you know where it comes from?"

"A lantern is the traditional symbol for law enforcement amongst your people."

"It was a long time ago, when we still had a need for such things. So is that the sort o'work you'd be looking for, then?"

"It's-. What I assumed-. Yes? If that's what you want in exchange for recharging me. But if I'm honest, I'd rather have a charge point and be left to my own devices."

"Well, I don't really know about that. As I say, when I left, we didn't go around handing them out to folk. And I haven't done anything with the glow meself for a long time. But if you're looking fo' work, I might have something for ye."

"… Yes..?"

"What sorta work did you do before this?"

"I'm-. I was an administrative assistant."

"Oh." He frowns. "It's nothing at all like that."

"I don't need a power ring to be an administrative assistant."

"True enough. You see, I'm not the only alien on this world."

"I suspected, but didn't want to assume."

"I've been trying to keep an eye on the others. They're not all the sociable type, you understand. But I'm not so young as I was, and from the feel of it that ring o'yers can pack quite a punch."

"So you want me to..? Police them?"

"Something like that, lad. Why don't I bring you up to speed, so's you know what you're getting into."

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th August 1999
7:58 GMT

"O-kay. So… In summary, most human myths are a product of encounters with Earth's alien diaspora, and while most aliens on Earth are just keeping their heads down, some actually are trying to conquer the world."

"I'm not so sure that the vampires are trying to conquer the world, so much as take what they want from it."

"Vampires, who in reality are-" I point to the home-made book in front of me. "-big snake-like creatures disguised by holograms."

"So they are."

"And… European myths come from their disguised state, and… Indian myths are based on their undisguised state?"

"I was'no in India at the time. But they're the right shape for nagas, so they are."

"They die when exposed to sunlight, zombify people by injecting them with poison from their fangs and the only reason why they haven't conquered the Earth already is that they all hate each other and can't cooperate."

"That's… You're oversimplifying things a little, there. None o' the different species on Earth are really their people's best. So there's no need to worry about a giant armada flying in and re-enacting The Day The Earth Stood Still."

"So who are they?"

"Outcasts and the descendants of refugees. For the most part. I came here to get back to nature, but that's just me."

"So what..? Myth..?"

He smiles brightly. "I'm a leprechaun."

I frown. That seems a little… Light-hearted?

"You'll be wondering why I'm not wearing a green suit and handing out Lucky Charms."

"No, I hate those things. I used to eat Ricicles, and then they ruined them by putting marshmallows in with them. And I was expecting robes from a maltusian, not a tweed suit."

"Ah, different culture, I suppose. I used to run interference between alien settlements and human explorers, which is a lot easier to do when you have holograms to send people the wrong way and gold to buy them off."

"Just… Just you?"

"I did the same thing a few times. The stories got around."

"Alright. So, why.. do that? Why don't people know about this?"

"How many aliens do you think there are?"

I glance at the book, but there isn't any census data. Not on that page, anyway.

How many non-human sophonts could realistically hide on Earth? Okay, they've got holographic disguises, but… How could they maintain them? Earth literally wouldn't have been gathering the raw materials they'd need to make them or do maintenance on them until this century. And then there's the issue of genetic variation…

"No need to strain yourself. There are maybe ten thousand lycanthropes around the world. A few hundred vampires and oni. A bit less than a hundred banshees. Every other species is even less than that."

"That's… Not sustainable. Is it? I mean… The genetic issues they'd have…"

"It depends, it depends. Some species have technology that gets around those sort o' issues. Or reproduce differently anyway." He smiles. "Others live so long they don't really mind it. But they're outcasts and refugees, not colonists. If they can hang on in the dark corners o' the world for a while it's luck, and not planning."

"Refugees? We don't have interstellar trade. Why would they come here?"

"Any port in a storm, lad. One or two ships get out when a planet gets overrun, they're not going to turn their noses up at a world they can live on just because it's a little out o' the way."

"Running from… What?"

He shrugs. "Who knows? Invasions fleets don't usually stop to do a formal introduction, and it was a long time ago. Vampires, oni and lycanthropes all have decent sized fleets near their home worlds… Or they did last time I was over that way. And none of them are shy about starting a fight. Or it could have been someone else."

"Okay, so… Why keep them secret? Why not just walk up to a government and introduce themselves?"

"Why'd you think?"

"Okay, they might have got a violent response during some parts of history, but we know that aliens aren't demons now. Offer technology for sanctuary."

"Some communities have been here for centuries. Very few actually remember their original homes. And as far as technology goes, they might have a few bits and pieces from home, but that doesn't mean they know how it all works. Civilisation is complicated. Knowledge is specialised. Most didn't come with school books or big data archives."

"X-Com." He raises his eyebrows. "If the people don't have valuable knowledge, then they're not valuable. But their technology still is, now that we can nearly understand it. A lot of the human… Brain mechanisms for telling us that people are people won't work with sophonts who don't look like us. So there are probably government agencies who are somewhat aware of what's going on, and decided to be murdering, sticky-fingered arseholes about it."

He seems mildly amused.

"That's one way to describe the Alliance, I suppose. Though when the biggest non-human groups on Earth are murderous, sticky-fingered arseholes just the same, I'd recommend not clambering up on your high horse too quickly."

"Alliance..? Alliance of who?"

"That's no' really clear to me. They started sticking their nose in about fifty years ago. Their equipment has bits and pieces from just about every species on Earth, aside from the ones which are completely incompatible. Most o' the time they have American accents, but that doesn't mean all that much. Most people who speak English have an American accent."

I remember how weird it was listening to the man in charge of the Millennium Dome speaking English with a noticeable French and American accent.

"So is there some great international conspiracy, or..? Do they just use their technology to spy on other spies and keep them ignorant?"

"I don't rightly know. But if it's a job you're wanting, you can try to find out and let me know when you do."

"Sounds manageable. A few plasma cannons won't be enough to stop even a neophyte Lantern like me, unless I do something stupid. I'm not… Sold on this secrecy thing, though."

"Learn a little more about how things work before you rush to pass judgement."

I nod. "Will I be getting paid for this?"

"I can put a little gold your way, if it helps."

"I don't have any documentation, so trading gold would actually be a little difficult."

"Ah, don't worry. I can sort you out there."

"Alright. Spy on X-Com, and keep the secret. Anything else?"

"Those minor species I mentioned? I try to keep an eye on them. Keep them safe. The Alliance has been on a bit of a tear recently. I might be wanting you to provide protection a time or two. We don't really want a big fight, but… Send them on their way."

I nod, and offer him my right hand. "I believe we have a deal."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February 2013
04:59 GMT -5

"Cease."

The data on the social shifts that are occurring in Anti-Life exposed populations vanishes from my screen, being replaced by the robot's face. My hands move to enter the override command without conscious thought, even as I deduce exactly how this conversation will go.

The robot is extremely predictable.

And the override doesn't work.

"Mister Atom, I need to keep working."

"Incorrect. You are time expired. The quality of your work will decrease unacceptably from this point onward. I do not have the capacity to perform my regular tasks as well as yours."

The robot isn't capable of directly interfacing with other computer systems. Apparently it's a safety feature to prevent a virus infecting it. I suspect that it's a restriction its creator implemented to prevent him taking over every online computer in the world. We had to build a special voice command system to allow it to give commands to its robot drones fast enough to matter. It can give command to twenty different sets of drones simultaneously using different pitches, but it's only got one set of eyes.

And it has no social skills at all.

I step away from the computer and walk towards the medical-.

"I have removed your stimulants. You have reached the point of diminishing returns and would undergo a dangerous crash within four days plus/minus one day."

I can't stop working. The whole world-.

The robot's face vanishes from the monitor, and is replaced by… Bats. Bats hanging off zoo keepers who are stroking their heads.

"I chose the bat because it scared me as a child, not because I find them aesthetically appealing."

"I understand. You hate yourself and so identify with an unappealing animal."

The bat pictures are replaced with pictures of puppies. Pet owners have proven to be slightly more resistant to the effects of Anti-Life than people who don't own pets, the animals buoying up their mood and giving them something to live for. The animals themselves aren't affected by Anti-Life, but just giving pets to people who don't have them doesn't work as they're too depressed to learn new skills or become emotionally attached to them.

"If you were human, I might think you were joking."

"Why did the Batman leave the cave, out of his office, up the stairs and then into the third room on the right?"

I know he's right about needing to get some sleep, because I can feel myself starting to smile.

"Because that's where his bedroom is."

"You are supposed to claim ignorance. That is the structure of the joke."

I check the time on my armour's integrated computer, and I'm sure that I can only confirm what it said because it lets me. Normally, the idea of someone -anyone- else having this degree of access to my systems would be completely unacceptable.

But we don't have a choice.

And I'm so tired.

I walk towards the armoury and begin stripping off my armour. It's been over a week since I was in the field. It might be more efficient to stop wearing it entirely. I know perfectly well that even with J'onn and Hawkman sharing my strategic responsibilities that a lot of the time the most helpful thing I can do for the League is make sure that everyone else is in the position where they can do most good.

But I can't deny that it's galling that of all the League members it's my city that's been taken over. I had a file on Mistress before this started but there was nothing in her profile that suggested that she would respond this way to a situation like this. It's also galling how using the Anti-Life as a control system doesn't seem to produce materially worse results than preventing it from establishing itself.

I don't bother dressing. Dick's out with the team, and Alfred is still under medical sedation. Talia is probably still out in the city… Somewhere. I was concerned that exposure to the Anti-Life might cause her to revert to some of the behaviors she developed before meeting me. I should have had more faith in her.

It's a short walk through the manor to my bedroom, and I can't help but notice how empty it feels. I judged Rick to be at high risk, so he's acting as a bodyguard for Batson. No Dick, no Alfred and no Talia. Only a few years ago I considered that normal and wouldn't have particularly cared if it never changed. Now, I feel their absence.

Maybe I was just fooling myself.

I can still feel the presence of the Anti-Life. We destroyed both of Mannheim's attempts to build an Anti-Life transmitter inside Gotham, but it looks like having a sufficiently large number of people accepting it works just as well.

And that's not something we have a cure for.

I take a quick shower to try and relax. When Mistress took control of the city she still had the sense to make sure that the utilities still work. The people who work there are exempt from her… Games. Fortunately, she doesn't seem to be interested into coming far enough out of the city to visit Wayne Manor. Playing along wouldn't bother me, but it would be a frustrating distraction.

No. It's not working.

I have drugs that can knock me out when I need sleep. I developed them after Roxy Rocket dosed me with a stolen amphetamine derivative that made sleep impossible. But there are side effects, it's not as restful as natural sleep and there are problems with continual use.

Relaxation exercise, then.

I sit in the middle of my bedroom floor, hands on my knees and eyes closed.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Floating in a void.

Outside the void is chaos. Inside the void is nothing but my mind. Everything that is chaos is rising from my mind and joining the chaos outside of the void. Feel them float away and think of them no-.

"Husband?"

"Hr?"

I'm face down on the floor, laying in a fetal position. There's drool on my cheek and on the carpet.

Mr. Atom was right.

I push myself up, trying to assess how alert I am. It feels like I got about two hours, enough to function but nothing like enough to be fully recovered.

"Talia." She's in costume, minus the cowl and mask. No injuries that are immediately obvious. No outward sign that she's concealing one. "What time is it?"

"Seven in the morning."

The robot won't let me back into the cave for another three hours at the absolute minimum. And while I could function for a while as I am now, it wouldn't last. But I'm still sleepy enough that I should be able to rest normally. I stand, and walk towards our bed.

I want to ask how the city is. But there isn't anything I can do immediately to undo everything that's wrong with it, and if there was an emergency she would have told me.

"Wake me in four hours."

I put my face into my pillow without looking at her face. She knows the situation, and she knows me. I-.

She puts something down on the pillow next to me. I turn my head slightly to look at-.

"From Doctor Mist. A Dream Catcher. It should ward off even the Anti-Life." I feel her gentle hands on my back. "Rest, Husband. The world will be here when you wake."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February 2013
07:01 GMT -5

"Robin."

And there's Mister Atom. I know he's not in the Justice League's computer network, but he gets notifications whenever anyone does anything. And if he wants to talk to you, you're not getting anything done until he's done. And I get it: he's one of not many people who are immune to the Anti-Life, so he has to check up on the rest of us. Doesn't mean it's not annoying. And if I'm annoyed-

"Hey, Atombot."

-then I'm gunna annoy him right back.

Not my best work, but… I'm not feeling it, right now.

"Robin."

And the problem with Mister Atom is that he will just keep saying my name until I give him the response he's looking for. He won't get bored, and because of how his voice control works he's not getting distracted from everything else he's supposed to be doing.

One time I tried to keep it up, and he kept up with me for two hours. I gave up when Wally told me to knock it off.

"Mister Atom."

He doesn't look happy. His face can't move or anything, but there are really subtle tells in his posture. I don't actually know if he can be happy-happy, but he sometimes gets… 'Less annoyed' when humans do what he thinks they're supposed to.

"Your father worked himself to exhaustion this morning. I require you to speak with him and attempt to persuade him to avoid doing so again."

"Ah… That ship's kinda sailed. Batman's… That just how he is."

"Incorrect. Batman's neurosis decreases substantially in your presence. Your input alone increases the chance of him changing to a healthier behavioural pattern by thirteen percent."

"Just thirteen percent?"

"Batwoman is already working on him."

I pulls a face. "Oh, ew. I don't need to know-."

"Not sexually. Most humans respond well to the physical presence of people they trust. Simply by being close to him, Batwoman is making it easier for him to get rest."

"Oh." That's-. I mean, yeah, they're married, and-.

"Though you make a good point. I will raise the issue of their mating behavior with her later. I do not have a good understanding of the psychological effects of human mating. In fact, it may be best if we discuss Batman management as a group."

No. No.

"When can you return to the Batcave?"

Double-no.

"Whenever you're planning on having that talk?"

"Good. I-."

"After that."

"That is awkward. If you are not present, the resulting plan may require your absence from particular rooms or buildings at times not convenient to you."

"I'll cope. Look, can I start work now, or-?"

Mr. Atom… Kind of… Twitches.

"Thank you for participating in the trial of my 'sense of humor' program. If you have any feedback, please-"

"Ya-huh?"

"-send it to my office by e-mail. Sense of humor now disengaged. Returning computer terminal to your control."

"W-why?"

"So that you can work."

"Why did you pick now to get a sense of humor?!"

"I have not. I have a separate program based on my analysis of human behavior-"

"That's not the point!"

He got me! Wally's gunna hear about this later, and then I'm never gunna hear the end of it!

"-which I occasionally allow to guide my speech in order to improve my emotional fulfilment quotient. Analysis of positive-."

Oh.

"You make jokes, because… It keeps the Anti-Life out."

"If it did not, I would postpone my research. Your update."

A second holoscreen pops up, showing troop movements and-.

"That's not right."

"The figures shown are accurate."

"I mean, it doesn't match what Mannheim's been doing up until now."

"Yes." New numbers appear. "Consider the demographic data."

"Okay, so he's given up attacking cities for now. The countryside is handling the Anti-Life broadcasts better than the cities, and he hasn't got enough Justified to control food distribution directly."

"Build-up of personnel-."

"He's planning on going to Gotham? He must know that isn't gunna work. If he moves an army, we'll grab them and free them. If he sends Justified, it'll be harder, but we'll still take them down. Mistress controls everyone who's Anti-Lifed, so he can't just throw local people at us…"

"Yes. All cities are now under someone's control. League-affiliates control a minority. Mannheim directly controls a minority. Most are ruled by dominant personalities who have internalised the Anti-Life. In the case of Gotham, Mistress."

"We destroy broadcasters as fast as he puts them up. He can't spread like that outside of the places he already controls. Does he want to make a deal or something?"

"Apokolips is ruled by Darkseid. However, senior New Gods still retain a high degree of agency."

Yeah. I mean, Canis has been loving this whole thing, and Barda-.

"So it's not just about making a deal. He wants to find out if he can control people through other Anti-Lifed leaders."

"Attempts to enlighten people in cities so affected have been less effective than attempts to enlighten people in cities that aren't, to a statistically significant degree. The difference can not be explained merely by the difference in their material conditions. Once Anti-Life saturation reaches a critical mass, it is self-sustaining."

"So why hasn't he done it before now?"

"Unknown. I speculate logistical issues."

"But if he goes himself…"

We'll know where he is. Attacking Mannheim isn't exactly easy when his bodyguards all have Apokoliptian weapons and his tower is made of Apokoliptian super-materials. But Gotham isn't. Can he just take Finality Man with him? I mean, yeah, he can, but if we know where they both are we can do a whole lot of missions that we can't do when we don't.

"So what's the plan?"

"It would be helpful if your team could infiltrate Mistress's coterie, and provide information on events. More information on her control techniques would improve our understanding of Anti-Life compliant society. More information on her interactions with Mannheim would allow me to model what happens when he repeats the process with other cities."

"Yeah." Because why wouldn't he? "I'll talk to Kaldur."

 

[Mr Zoat]

November 3rd, 1999
8:00 MDT

Right on the dot.

I hear the keys before General Rinaker actually makes it onto the stage for the briefing. It's kinda funny seeing displacement activity in a guy like that; it's the only thing about him that deviates from the perfect g-man image he-.

My eyes widen as Ling walks in behind him. On crutches. His left leg is in plaster and there's a sterile dressing on the left side of his face. And from the way he's moving, I think he's got other injuries under his uniform.

"Yesterday morning, oh one hundred hours local time, a team under the command of Agent Ling was dispatched to intercept a vampire arms shipment."

An image appears on the screen, docks-. Signage is in English, the way the cars are parked suggests they drive on the left. People are opening and unloading a shipping container. No signs of vampire poison, but plenty of people work for vampires without knowing that the boss is literally a snake. Security seems… Light, for something important.

The image splits in four, showing feeds from the body cameras of the agents taking part in the raid. We see them move, hear Ling shout at everyone to surrender, see them dive for cover as the agents open fire-.

The cameras cut out.

"All cameras in the area were destroyed. We only have this much footage due to it being automatically backed up to the command vehicle, which has EMP shielding."

"Um." Fitz raises his hand. "Do the agents have EMP shielding? Because it doesn't look like Ling does."

"We were attacked." Huh. Usually Ling only sounds that angry when he's talking about me. He steps forwards and winds the images back. "The dock workers tried to flee, but we had all of the exits covered."

He brings up a new image, showing their positions… Yeah, I gotta agree with Ling. I can't see any way for them to get out of there without shooting their way through a squad plus their support vehicle, and that isn't easy.

"Some went for their concealed weapons, as we threw stun grenades and then moved in to mop up. I underestimated them."

Sh'lainn nods. "Did the vampires get the drop on you?"

"No. The Green Knight did."

Sh'lainn starts in surprise. "The Green Knight?"

Ah… Arthurian legend. And not one I've read up on. I think he got Sir Gawain to cut his head off, survived, then gave him a year to live. But I might just be remembering a movie. There's nothing about a Green Knight in any Alliance files I've read.

Ling's eyes focus on her. "A glowing green man in 16th century figure plate armor, riding a glowing green horse. He rode out of the sea and attacked us. Our grenades didn't affect him and our guns couldn't pierce his armour."

"You sure it wasn't a hologram-?"

"No, Agent Logan, it wasn't a hologram." He looks down at his leg and bangs his plaster-covered heel against the floor. "He broke my leg with a mace, defeated my men and assisted all of the targets to escape."

Perrera frowns. "What's the exposure risk?"

Rinaker catches his keys. "This may be beyond our ability to fully conceal."

Fitz actually looks offended. "Hey, now, I don't mean to toot my own horn here-"

"An entire squad of Alliance soldiers are in the custody of the London Metropolitan Police, and most of their equipment was delivered to the British Ministry of Defence."

"-but okay that's a tricky one."

I frown. "The Ministry of Defense?"

"An unusual move for the vampires, but not entirely unprecedented. While we have contacts in most governments, the Alliance is a secret organisation. Very few officials have knowledge of our existence or activities. If only a small number of individuals had access to Alliance equipment, all that would happen is that they would be given a choice between signing the Official Secrets Act or spending the rest of their lives in prison. But things have moved beyond that. Dozens of people have seen examples of our vehicles switching between disguise and combat modes, and while I don't doubt the integrity of our agents, things will become difficult if the British police are able to successfully identify any of them."

Perrera nods. "There's no way that they won't realise what they are, even if they don't know who they are. And if they think that a foreign country is carrying out anti-terrorist activities on their soil, they're going to start calling in ambassadors."

I nod. So wandering into the station with fake documents claiming they all have diplomatic immunity might work, but it'll cause a diplomatic incident. And make the US government start looking at things on their end. I haven't gone peeking into everyone's files, but I hear a lot of American accents around the base, and most of them probably have a service history. All the British police need to do is send the US embassy mug shots and they will get IDed.

Sh'lainn's frowning. "And the Green Knight did all that? Without being spotted?"

"Possibly." Another key-flip. "Or possibly he left the area immediately and that was done by his associates. Since we have no information on his motives or affiliation, it would be premature to say. But we need our agents released, and we need our equipment either recovered or destroyed."

Wait.

"What happened to the vampire weapon shipment?"

"Long gone, along with the people we IDed. Agent Trueblood will be leading a separate team to follow up on that."

"But if the Green Knight's working with them, won't he be where they are?"

"It's certainly possible. Which is why his team will be carrying heavier weapons and won't be taking prisoners, but that isn't your concern."

Perrera frowns. "How… Aware, is the British government? If the police just think that a gang shot up the docks, then they probably won't call the Home Office until they get an ID. If we set up fake IDs and tell the agents what they are, we can get them released on bail and then have them disappear."

Fitz looks amused. "Hey, I liked Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels as much as the next guy, but the British police get real serious when guns are involved. Private gun ownership isn't really a thing there, and… They're not gunna be all that eager to let them out at all."

Rinaker flips his keys again. "Work on your plan on the way to London. This needs to be done quickly. Dismissed. Agent Ling, get back to medical."

We file out, Trueblood heading towards the barracks while the rest of us heading for the hanger. This won't be the first time I've planted data for the Alliance, or the first time I've broken into a government facility. Not sure who we can finger without making things worse. Dissident Irish Republicans?

And Agent Ling… Something tells me that it might be a good idea to take a look a the docks. Plasma bolts don't leave the same marks as bullets, and unless there's a good explanation their scene-of-crime officers will notice the difference. And vampire weapon transfers are almost always overseen by an actual vampire. There not being one there… Doesn't fit.

"Nick…" Sh'lainn looks pensive. "There's something about the Green Knight. I've… Heard of him."

"Yeah?" Fitz grins. "Is he a guy-banshee? Do we finally get to find out what banhees look like?"

"… No. I don't know what he is, but… The stories I heard didn't have anything bad to say about him. And most banshees aren't all that fond of outsiders."

I frown. "Would Queen Mab have a way to get in contact with him?"

"If we ever had a way to send messages to him, it hasn't been used for a long time. And I don't think she'll be too keen on me showen my face around there."

I raise my right eyebrow. "How long is a long time?"

She pointedly looks away. "Quite a while."

"Any idea why he's working with the vampires?"

She shakes her head. "No. That doesn't match the stories at all."

Perrera glances at me. "Figuring out that isn't our job, Logan."

"No. But that doesn't mean it's not a good idea."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February 2013
08:23 GMT -5

Short straw duty.

I sigh as I knock on Canis's door. Because some people are immune to the clinical depression field because they're so… Spiritually developed, or whatever. But we get the guy who's immune because he likes it.

"Canis! We've got a meeting!"

I hear his dog get up. I can hear it wagging its tail, which… I think that's because it knows what I smell like and not because it likes clinical depression too. The Justice League's research seems to say that animals aren't directly affected, but I don't think we'll really know until mating season. Pets do better for the same reason that pet owners do, and with farm animals there's not a lot of difference.

I wait a few more seconds, and think about whether I should knock again. Dr. Mist passed around Dream Catchers, but I didn't see Canis pick his-.
ECSTATIC JUBILATION!
The door slides open, and Canis… Looks like he's been working out? He's smiling, and there's sweat on his face. Actually, he looks kinda-.

Did I just catch him j-? No. Not thinking it. Not thinking it.

"Kid Flash. We have a mission? Another broadcaster to take down?"

Because he's the only one on the team who can get close without getting overwhelmed. Superboy could handle it, but… His heat vision kinda takes out the whole block.

"Not this time. We're heading to Gotham. Mannheim's going there-"

He grins like he just got real excited.

"-and we're going to spy on him when he does."

Canis nods, and… I don't know what he was hoping for. I don't exactly get why he didn't go over to Mannheim when this all started, but he hasn't held back when we've fought regular soldiers or the Justified.

"It will no doubt prove instructive."

"Can I..? Ask you a question?"

Brute looks around and sniffs at me, then goes back to his water bowl.

"You want to know why I do not serve Mannheim."

"Well… Yeah. Darkseid's obviously cool with him… You always said that Darkseid's your… Y'know-."

"My master."

I.. nod. "So what's up with the whole… Thing."

Canis shrugs, like he doesn't think it's a big deal. "Darkseid has not ordered me to serve this… Human. So I fulfil the last orders I received. The Anti-Life makes it easier to… Perceive them."

"But he's basically Darkseid in a human-suit. Isn't it the same thing?"

He looks at me like I just let off in an elevator.

"No. Darkseid has clearly touched him, but that is all that it is. There is so little of substance to the souls of most humans that-"

"Thanks, Canis."

"-the fleeting contact has turned him into something more." He sounds really contemptuous. "He is no more Darkseid than your shadow is you. No, no more than your footprint is you, than someone who wears your old shoes is you."

"Oh. Good, 'cause my last set of boots went in a charity auction."

Canis gets that distant look he gets when someone gives him an idea.

"Yes. He is Charity Auction Darkseid."

I… I don't know what to say to that. I mean, I know I never want to meet Retail Darkseid, but after… What Uncle Barry said about Apokolips, and what OL said about Darkseid… I kinda knew that anyway.

"So, are you..? Ready?"

Canis nods and grabs his mega rod. "Let us meet."

I step away from the doorway, and he strolls out with Brute right behind him.

And it-.

Okay, look, I'm not saying that I want everyone to be as stressed out as I am. It's just that most people are… Stressed out and depressed by this. Even the ones who are immune to the direct effect of the broadcast aren't exactly turning cartwheels about human civilisation only carrying on because no one's got the motivation to finish it off.

But Canis is like this is normal. I think he's actually more relaxed than he was when the world was still working.

I've gotta ask…

"Is this..? Normal for you?"

"I've lived in this mountain since-."

"No, I mean… The Anti-Life… Thing."

"I was born on Apokolips, where Darkseid's power is absolute and his nature manifest in all things and people. Be glad that you have the privilege of experiencing it while still yourself; few do."

"I can't imagine what that was like for you."

"Much like this, but I was smaller and weaker. And I had fewer friends."

"So this is better."

"It is beneficial. I do not think I would have formed properly here. And I would likely never have known the glory of Darkseid."

"So all the misery and horror and the inability to feel anything… Good?"

"Kid Flash, the human species has access to dozens of different forms of recreational drugs. Do you not?"

"Yeah?"

"Depressants, stimulants and hallucinogens of all kinds. Some adversely affect your health, for a short duration, a long duration or permanently. Other don't, and once the buzz fades they leave you as you were before."

"Not what the PSAs say, but… So what?"

"Have you ever consumed any?"

"No? I've never had-. I mean, aside from the… Speed formula."

"Your life has been more violent than that of most humans from your home city."

"Yeah, I-." Wait, does he mean, like, anxiety medication? Or some kind of sleep-aid? I guess that a place like Apokolips probably doesn't have drug laws. "I haven't needed anything."

"But you know that they exist. You could take such things."

"I don't think my parents would like it, but, sure. It's possible."

He turns his head back to smile at me.

"Then you understand. A world without Darkseid is like being consumed by narcotics, insulating you from the true reality we all live in but too frequently ignore. It is childish and foolish to prefer it…" He shrugs. "But perhaps it is not so bad to be a little childish sometimes."

I just… Stop. I stop in the corridor and stare after him.

That's-.

That's just so totally…

Messed up.

But I don't think he's lying. I think that's how he actually sees things. And if this keeps up…

A whole lot more people will see things that way when it's over.

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February 2013
08:53 GMT -5

"Recognized, Match, B Two Five."

A flash of light, then I'm in a Gotham back alley blinking spots out of my eyes. It's not that I can see zeta radiation-. Though I can. It's more that I see all the other radiation, and then the techniques I use to stop myself getting blinded by all the colors and shapes mean that when it stops and I'm in a street somewhere, the contrast of the new much more simple lights makes it like a normal human just walked out of somewhere with blinding lights and into a pitch black room.

Superman said he didn't really find it a problem. I don't know if that's because he grew up normally like this, or if there's… Something left over from Cadmus that means I can't. Guess I'll find out in a few years.

There are a couple of zeta tubes in Gotham, but the one Artemis usually uses got spotted by Mistress's gang last month. They didn't do anything to it except watch it, but that amounts to pretty much the same thing. The clothes I'm wearing should let me fit in, though we've noticed that people who've… Let the Anti-Life in and.. not killed themselves, can generally notice when they're talking to someone who isn't… Who hasn't gone that far. And we know that because in a lot of places the people in charge send teams out to kidnap them so they can break them.

Mistress hasn't really done that. Might be because she used to be a good person. Or it might be because she figures that Gotham's going to do that for her.

I mean, something about this place was driving people crazy-.

I spot a security patrol. Four Anti-Lifed people under Mistress's control, wearing handcuffs double cuffed around their left wrists. Other than that they're just wearing gang clothes… One of them looks like he used to work for the Joker, but the rest look… 'Normal'. No sign they're afraid of me, or even bothered about a potential outsider being on 'their' street.

I tap my communicator, telling them it's not clear to come through. Until the enforcers move away, the rest of the team will have to come in through Wayne Manor. And then I walk over to them.

Like I'm walking to the chopping-.

Huh. Been a while since I've felt like that in a city without a transmitter. Robin was right about people broadcasting it without help.

"Hey."

Four sets of eyes staring at me. They're armed, but they don't have anything that could hurt me. I'm not even sure if open carrying is illegal in Gotham or not, but if it isn't then they're not actually breaking the law.

"Worm."

One thing people don't know about Superman is that he's a great actor. Even when you know that he's Clark Kent, he acts like a totally different guy. Except when he's around his parents and he acts like himself. But it's not genetic or anything. He had to study to learn how to do that. I haven't. I can fit in most of the time, but I know I don't respond to situations that would be dangerous to a normal guy in the way normal guys do. I probably should be nervous about talking to them, but I'm not.

Not that they're reacting to it. I take a quick look at the electrical activity in their brains, and it's… It's zen-like, like they're perfectly fine with whatever's happening around them. Or to them.

"Hey, can you..?"

They keep staring at me. That's probably intimidating to normal people.

"Tell me..? What does Mistress want?"

They stand a little straighter when I say her name.

The clown guy's eyes narrow a little. "What do you mean, worm?"

"Mistress rules the city."

"And you better remember it."

"So what does she want to do with it? What does she want us to do?"

"Surrender yourself to her."

"Like, just go to wherever she-."

I see his fist coming a mile away, and I turn my head with the punch so he doesn't break all his fingers.

"No, worm. You have felt the despair. The desolation."

"Yeah, that's… That's why I'm asking, man. You guys… You guys look like you're fine, so… Is that it? We just..? We do what she says-."

"You do not understand."

The clown points down the street, where there's a-.

Someone killed themselves by sitting in a car while it filled up with exhaust fumes. The body isn't fresh.

"Attachment is the root of all pain. Ego. Self. That man killed himself because he saw how flimsy his pathetic self was and couldn't cope. He fought the truth. He fought Mistress."

"So she killed him?"

"So he rejected her by ending his own life, rather than accept truth and transformation. It was the realisation that he wasn't what he thought he was and his attachment to that which killed him."

"So just… Don't be attached?"

"It's not that simple." He takes off his purple top hat and waves it at me. "I used to work for the Joker, you know?"

"I… I guessed..?"

"He liked keeping his people off-balance. One time he gave a guy a gag cigar. Blew his head right off. At the time it scared the shit out of me, but I needed the money. And it was kind of funny when it happened to someone else."

Man, Gotham sucks.

"And not funny when it happened to you. But after a while, it was just part of life. Not really worth talking about. One time, Joker was pissed about something and pointed a gun at my face… I just didn't react. He didn't like that so much."

"He shot you?"

"No. Said there wasn't any point. But right it that moment, when the gun barrel was an inch from my eye? I wasn't scared or angry. I wasn't thinking about all the things I could have done. I wasn't thinking anything except 'huh, okay'."

That's… Messed up. Most of Joker's henchmen are just regular criminals or people who are desperate and out of work.

"And now… It's like that, all the time. If Mistress pointed a gun at my face, and pulled the trigger -or didn't- I wouldn't think much of anything either. Or if she told me to walk out into traffic. Or eat my own intestines. 'Huh.' 'Okay.'"

One of the other henchmen nods. "It's inspiring, really. He got that far before Mistress even took over."

"But how do you get like that? I mean-."

"You just… Get used to it. To not mattering. To just… Being, as part of Mistress."

Four near-identical nods.

"I don't think I get-."

The clown draws his pistol-

The guy he's pointing it at smiles. "Huh."

"I get it-!"

"Okay."

-and the clown shoots him in the head.

There's no particular expression on his face as his body falls over. The other two don't look bothered, either. On their faces or in their brains.

Damn it. I could probably have stopped him, but then my cover's blown and there's nothing to stop them killing someone else when I'm not here. Which is what usually happens when someone from the Justice League tried talking to these people.

"That-."

"It's a demonstration. For you, and for whoever you're asking for. Do you want to learn more?"

If I say 'yes' then he'll probably shoot one of the others, and then himself. The last one will report back to whoever's in charge…

I don't need to know what they know that badly.

"I-. I think I'm good. Ah, thanks."

"Then you're not ready for Mistress. Scram."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February 2013
09:24 GMT -5

It's morning. We're here in the morning, in the open, and this… Should be a school day. Except there's nothing happening, even at the good schools. Even if the teachers turn up, people don't want to teach. Or get taught.

That's not exactly how it is in places where the Anti-Life hasn't taken over. Wally's still going to school, and so are Conner and M'gann. Mom… Hasn't really said.. anything, but I'm studying in my own time to try and keep up. I could get a transfer, but-.

"Hey… Artemis?"

I look over at Dick for a moment, then go back to watching the Anti-Lifed thugs.

"Yeah?"

"Was this how..? Gotham used to be?"

"How d'you mean?"

"My family travelled around a lot. I'd been on three continents before I ever came to Gotham. And I was pretty young. Even when I started as Robin, I didn't really know how bad things were."

I frown. "Didn't Batman have you following him around every night?"

"Hardly. Training was every day. Fighting crime was one night a week. Maybe three if there was a holiday. I saw plenty of crime, but I didn't know how representative what I saw was of the whole of the city."

He glances at his wrist computer, checking the feeds from the cameras he's planted.

"And I've read up on things since then, but it's not the same as seeing it. Do you remember?"

"Dad didn't encourage me to socialise." But that's not a helpful answer. "No. Thanks to Mistress, there's only one gang in town. Back then, any of the gangs could be attacked by any of the other gangs. So walking around on the street first thing in the morning? That wasn't really something they did. Not outside the middle of their territory. And they walk different."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. These guys… They don't care who sees them."

I nod. "They don't-." Damn it. "They didn't used to walk like that after Batman cleaned up the city, because the cops started doing their jobs and they could get arrested. They didn't walk like that in the old days because the cops were paid off by one of the mobs and they didn't like it when people committed crimes without asking permission first."

"Were there this many?"

"Ah…" I try remembering, but I wasn't all that old either. "I don't know. I think there were more other people around."

People aren't really living. They're just going through the motions. I've looked in on a few families when I visit Mom, and it's kinda like they're robots. Not modern robots. Complicated wind-up ones from the sixties, where they stumble around the place without knowing why they're doing anything, and if they're even a little at the wrong angle they'll trip over the furniture.

We're already seeing signs of malnutrition. Even if people aren't killing themselves, they're not taking care of themselves.

And on that subject…

"How are they managing the food supply?"

"Some of Poison Ivy's henchpeople got infected, and they set up some city farm plots. But food doesn't get produced all the time. Harvesting crops in the US doesn't happen for months. It's mostly imports that have shut down, and that was way down anyway after the Sheeda attacks."

"What about interstate trucking?"

"You can order stuff. We're still getting oranges in Happy Harbor. You have to get really demanding about it, but once things are moving, they tend to stay moving." He nods. "If we don't get this fixed inside a month, that'll get worse."

Another… Month..?

"Hey."

He's… Put his hand on my arm. I didn't notice-.

"If we can't get it fixed inside a month we can always do what OL said."

"Move to another planet?" Dick nods. Like a lot of things Paul says, that was somewhere between 'funny' and 'terrifyingly serious'. "But if you're right and people can be broadcasters, wouldn't we just bring it with us?"

"Don't worry about that. With a new colony, we wouldn't have enough food for everyone anyway."

Heh.

"Oh, that's totally wrong."

"No, Mister Atom checked the figures. Plants need all kinds of soil microbes, and if you have to introduce them to a new planet, that takes… A while. We'd actually have to raid about fifty sewage treatment plants for raw material."

I gag.

Right… Fertiliser, and microbes…

"Mister Atom was pretty sure we could fit it all in two oil tankers. We'd just have to reinforce them so Superman could carry them."

"Hah!" I can't help smiling at that image. "Okay. Thanks."

"I got pranked by a robot with no sense of humor this morning. I feel like I need to up my game."

"Mister Atom pranks people?"

"He's got a program for it. Oh, here we go."

I lean over to look at his computer screen, and I see the truck doing deliveries for Mistress. She's set up a food-for-work program for anyone who can drag themselves over there. A lot of the people who take her up on that end up as part of her pseudo-Justified gang, and that's why we haven't wanted to risk getting too close.

Dick moves the screen so I can see its relative position. Okay. I notch a tracking arrow and raise it. Check distance, check wind speed, and… Loose.

Two. One.

"Good shot, Arte. Clean contact."

This type of tracking arrow actually disintegrates after the tracker gets attached. At this time of day, there's no way they wouldn't notice a regular one. This has got a shorter transmitting range, but…

"Robin to Canis. You're good to have breakfast."

"I'm sure that dining with such lowlies will bring back many memories."

"Happy memories?"

"Can I kill and cook them over their own fires?"

"Ah, that's a no?"

"Then merely memories. Canis out."

I frown. "Are we sure this 'Mistress' chick even has an inner circle?"

"Anti-Life makes them loyal to her, but it doesn't give people skills they don't have. There's nothing in her personal history which shows that she knows how to run a gang or rule a city. Someone's helping her. But they're not big on phones, or we could just hack them."

"They don't have Apokoliptian technology, right?"

"They shouldn't, but we've IDed a lot of ex-henchmen with them, and there's a lot of old supervillain tech around Gotham."

"So they could have anything Batman's enemies had."

Dick nods.

"Great."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd November 1999
21:18 GMT

I watch as the… Goblin? Their bodies are shaped like chimpanzees, though their faces look more like a bat's. Have to check when I get back. The goblin working as a nurse checks the bandages on one of his wounded fellows. Alliance plasma weapons are designed to be significantly less lethal than they could be, but they stun people with electrical discharges and skin burns, and despite what mythology might suggest goblins aren't only vulnerable to iron.

I get a few glances in my direction, but by this point they've more or less decided to ignore my glowing green form.

I'm still not sold on the 'secrecy' angle, but I don't think these people would be inclined to trust a human at this point. A glowing green man who just beat up an Alliance platoon on the other hand… I appear to be accepted. Percival told me that he used to use a form like this for when he had to fight things, and a few of these people appear to remember those stories.

It's not just human myths, it seems.

"Do you think he can't talk, or he's just choosing not to?"

Another goblin with two vampire plasma pistols attached to his belt glances at a green-skinned female of… A species I don't recognise. Her dimensions are more human-standard than the shorter goblins, and…

And I'm checking her out, which is a lot easier to get away with when your face is concealed from external view by a glowing green helmet that doesn't obstruct your vision.

"I don't know. Have you tried asking him?"

"No, he just followed us..." The goblin straightens up a bit, and adjusts his flat cap before facing me. "Green man. We owe you our lives. Thank you."

I ball my right hand into a fist, then bring it over to the left side of my chest, over my heart. Incline my head slightly, then straighten and lower my arm.

"You've… Fought with the Alliance before?"

No, not like that. Monitored to get some idea of how they operate, yes. Stolen equipment, yes. Fought a platoon of their soldiers in the middle of a city, no. And last time Percival went out like this the founders of the Alliance hadn't been born yet.

But I don't respond. The less I do to let anyone know the truth, the better.

The goblin gives me a moment, then turns back to the green woman. "I'm leaning towards 'can't talk'. Some sort of robot, you think?"

"Titani automata are usually bigger. And less green. Maybe he just doesn't like trasgu."

"What's not to like about us?" The goblin widens his arms in a gesture of appeal, causing the nurse to glance his way.

"We're not exactly human-appealing, Reddy."

"Why would a robot care about that?"

The green woman takes a step closer, red eyes trying to peer past my glowing visor. "Maybe he's just shy."

Shy around attractive women? Well, reserved, yes, but I've spent the last three months doing intense physical exercise to prepare for this role and I'm feeling a little more confident in my own appearance than I used to.

She raises her right hand up to caress my helmet, an action which due to her relative shortness requires her to come right up to me.

"We are very grateful to you, sir knight. Those beastly Alliance soldiers might have done all sorts of things to us if you hadn't… Cut in."

I reach up with my left hand, take hold of her right and bring it to the area of my construct mouth guard, miming kissing it before releasing my hold.

"Failing to seduce a robot." The goblin-. Trasgu, I suppose, sneers. "We need to find a male of your species: that's just depressing."

Perimeter breach.

I jerk my head up, forcing the ring to show me the exterior of this Cold War era bunker. More Alliance soldiers, these ones carrying a greater number of plasma cannons. And since we're further away from population centres, they're using more of their mechs.

The green woman looks concerned. "What is it?"

I hold out my right hand, palm up, and generate a construct image of what I'm seeing. She gasps sharply, and looks to the trasgu for guidance.

"We can't fight that many. The back entrance?"

He looks at the wounded, who are wincing as they pull themselves to their feet.

"We'll have to. I'll set the charges."

"Those things can fly. There isn't anywhere to-"

There's an explosion outside as the mechs target their trucks. Most of their equipment was already offloaded, but there's no way to transport most of it now. This bunker isn't in official use any longer, and we're in an isolated location, so in theory they could just collapse the entrance and then come back later…

Ring, contact local police with alert.

They won't be able to do anything, but the Alliance seems to avoid killing regular police units. Another set of witnesses might force the Alliance to pull out. Or it might not.

Thing is, it's still the late nineties. It's phone communication only, and they've got no capacity to receive video transmissions.

Phone call in progress.

But… That's not going to be enough. They could just stun regular police. This is Britain, I don't think they even routinely issue tasers or CS sprays.

Contact the closest police armed response unit. Fake dispatch orders.

Orders fabricated. Emergency dispatch triggered.

That will create an awkward situation. They won't have anything heavy enough to damage the mechs, but an armed response unit will in theory be able to kill Alliance infantry.

I don't… Think they'll engage. The armed response unit will have records, and the moment they arrive on scene they'll radio their headquarters.

Reddy takes a moment to watch the wounded hobbling for the other exit, then draws his pistols. "Listen, Green Knight-."

I add the image of a shield to my self-concept and the ring responds, a tower shield with the green sigil on it shimmering into being. Then I march towards the front door.

"I was going to ask you to guard the retreat, but if you want to be the distraction I'm all for it. Knock 'em dead!"

Alliance plasma cannons have worse pulse confinement than the vampire version, and I know I can block those. But the Alliance are much more cavalier about maintenance and parts; they'll hose a target down and not worry about overheating and burnout because they can replace what they break more easily.

I hold out my right hand, and add a knightly arming sword to my self-concept. It's… A strange way to think, and a little disassociative. But it works.

Other goblins pull back from the front entrance as the Alliance mechs open fire. I'm a little surprised that they're not using breaching charges to open the door, but maybe they just assumed that we'd booby trap it and it would be easier to dig us out? The only other alien here is a hulking golem, vampire plasma cannon in one hand and the other a bare fist. He..? Looks down at me as I prepare to charge.

"You? Okay. The way I see it, we just need to take out their mechs. No way they can keep up without transport. After that, it's just about keeping them on us for as long as possible."

For a moment, I'm… Touched, both by his devotion and what he's assumed about me. I don't like these people well enough to die for them.

But…

I think I might find out whether I'm willing to kill for them. And if human history is anything to go by… I probably am.

I hold up my shield hand to show him my fingers, and count down to zero.

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd November 1999
21:22 GMT

Some of the fire falls off as I storm forward, probably them trying to assess what caused the door to move. But-

"Maintain fire!"

-my shield and the golem's body are still taking a lot of fire. I sight the mech to my left and charge in that direction, my eye slit fixed on the Alliance pilot. They spot me and try to back up-

"Target the aliens! Fire team two, overwatch!"

-while maintaining fire, but it's nothing that my shield can't handle. There isn't much cover here, but the woodlands are blocking some of the Alliance operatives' lines of fire, and the second mech pilot appears to be torn between shooting the entrance, me, or the golem. The tilt of the gun makes it look like he's decided on 'me', then a purple beam from the golem's plasma cannon striking his canopy causes him to reconsider.

Closed the distance and I bring my sword up, clearly picturing in my mind the blade slicing through the mech's leg armour, needing it to, refusing to accept even the possibility of it failing. The blade responds by lengthening and shining as I swing it, getting under the angle of depression of the mech's main gun and striking it hard in the left shin.

The metal parts.

The metal parts.

The metal parts.

My sword pierces the armour and the mechanisms beneath, shearing through the leg and causing the mech to lurch sideways. It jams its stump into the ground as it tries to remain balanced, and either the pilot is on the ball or the computer is because it bends its right leg to try and remain level. Fire from other sources slacks off as Alliance soldiers want to avoid friendly fire, but since they're well trained they use the opportunity to reposition. I use the opportunity to change direction and cut into the right leg.

The metal parts.

The metal parts.

The metal parts.

There's a shower of sparks as the shin is severed, the mech overbalancing and collapsing onto its front, cockpit slamming into the ground! I stop, turn to face the rear-mounted engine unit and stab, piercing the armour and wrecking the generator and battery.

Try moving that before the legitimate authorities arrive.

Ugh!

I'm knocked aside by a plasma beam-. Continuous beam. The only way to really-.

I clamp down on that thought. My armour cannot be pierced, and I get my shield in the way as I recover. Two Alliance operatives dash out of cover to recover the stunned mech pilot, and since a wounded man does more to slow a formation than a dead one I don't interrupt.

Across the glade the golem makes it to the other mech and grabs the leg, heaving it off the ground and hurling it in the direction of the closest concentration of Alliance soldiers. They rapidly abandon cover, throwing themselves out of the way as the mech comes down with a colossal thud!

The man who shot me ceases fire as smoke rises from his gun. He tosses it aside with a grimace before drawing some sort of baton weapon. Yes, that's why you don't fire them like that. He gestures, and another squad-.

He's the agent in charge? Right then.

Head down and shield up I charge towards him. Plasma fire from my right slams into my shield, which turns it aside or absorbs its energy without difficulty because anything else is inconceivable. Not much on my left: the other side of the Alliance formation is occupied with the golem.

I raise my sword and point it at the lead agent, in a clear challenge. He snarls.

"Another alien mercenary."

He takes in the damage that the plasma weapons pointing at me aren't doing, and the fact that he's got about five seconds before I'm on him.

"Fire team, four and five, pull back and set up overwatch. Other squads, prepare to retreat."

His offhand moves, and I crouch further behind my shield as the plasma grenade goes off just ahead of me, shoving me back slight-.

And he's there, off-hand grabbing the edge of my shield and right hand swinging his baton at my head! I plant my feet to resist his charge and swing my sword at his wrist. He pulls back his swing, catching the tip of my sword in the strongest part of his maul's plasma field-

The sword remains whole and I remain standing strong.

The sword remains whole and I remain standing strong.

-for a moment until the edge of the sword shears through one of the containment prongs, causing it to explosively discharge! He's knocked back, right hand blackened and burned and-.

WOOMP!

Agh-! He dropped a grenade as he fell, this one making it under my shield where I raised it to hold him off. My armour is fine, my legs are fine, but I'm off my feet and he's pulling back.

I pull my legs back under me and stand, walking out of the smoke and dust. No need to chase them down. Them leaving is probably the best solution-.

The mech I wrecked explodes! That shouldn't-? Scuttling charges. They blew it to disguise what it is. It'll still look suspicious as heck-.

One of the Alliance squads shoot me, but they're using the smaller plasma guns and my armour is fine. I could pursue, but I think that the police have enough prisoners for the moment and I don't really-.

"Knight!" I jerk my head around to look at the golem. He looks battered, but he doesn't appear to be bleeding and nothing is obviously broken. "They got past me!"

I turn and run towards the bunker entrance, the broken ground solidifying under my feet as I cover the distance in seconds. I didn't hear an order, did they just take the initiative?

Their sternguard steps out of cover to swing his baton at me but I just shield-charge him and slam him into the wall with a crack. Then I run for the stairs and down, down and charge through the halls towards-.

"…vampires?! Where are the vampires?!"

Back into the medical room. The nurse is standing between an Alliance soldier and an injured faun in a wheelchair. He doesn't have a weapon.

The soldier's head jerks towards me, and his eyes widen slightly-.

His finger tightens-.

I lunge, sword outstretched, and run him through the heart.

He shudders, expression fading as his gun drops from nerveless hands. He looks directly into my visor, lips moving weakly…

Then his eyes roll back and-. And my sword slices its way out through his shoulder as his body falls to the ground.

…

I didn't-.

…

The sword disappears, and-.

Focus. I make eye contact with the nurse. I need to know if there's-.

"Thank you. I thought we were done for." He grabs the handles of the wheelchair and begins pushing the faun out of the bunker. "I didn't see any others in the bunker, but we can't hang around. And neither can you."

I crouch down, dismissing my shield as I roll the body onto its back and shut its eyes.

No. I suppose that I can't.

 

[Mr Zoat]

November 3rd, 1999
22:47 GMT

I look out through my binoculars at the airbase where the British government is keeping the Alliance's equipment.

"This isn't a research centre. I'd guess that they're holding it here because they don't know what to do with it and want to keep it somewhere secure. Which means that there are going to be a lot of people coming and going."

Next to me, Fitz lowers his binoculars and then clears his throat.

"Gentlemen, I-" I wince at his accent. I'm… Pretty sure that British people haven't actually sounded like that outside of Buckingham Palace since World War Two. "-am Doctor Nigel Fortescue. I hear you've got a rather rum project for me, what what?"

Perrera shakes her head. "We don't have their phone line and we don't have a radio intercept. Unless there really is a guy called Nigel Fortescue, they won't buy it for long enough."

"Nick…" I lower my binoculars and turn to face Sh'lainn. "I'm not seeing any vampires here."

She turns her computer around to face me, images of some of the people who were at the docks expanded. The thing about most alien species being able to disguise themselves as humans is that what they look like doesn't really mean anything. I look at her for an explanation.

"They're no' wearing the hologram projectors."

Perrera leans over and looks at the image for a moment before nodding. "The projectors have to be exposed in order to work. And the tail's still there. None of these people are moving like they've got to take tails into account."

"Okay." Fitz shrugs. "So they're not vampires. The vampire families run big companies. Can't be that hard to hire a moving company."

Sh'lainn frowns. "Would the vampires let uninfected humans handle their technology?"

I… That's a good question. I haven't seen any record of it in the Alliance database. Using humans to expand their personnel base seems like an obvious thing to do. The oni definitely do. Vampires?

Looks like Fitz and Perrera don't know, either.

"And there's another thing." Sh'lainn moves to a new video. "Watch this."

An Alliance agent fires at one of the dock workers-. Sh'lainn stops the image as the plasma bolt narrowly misses him, and-. It's like his whole body is in a funhouse mirror.

"You see this? I think this man is a faun. The power they use for their disguises doesn't cope well when there's a strong magnetic field nearby."

Perrera frowns. "Do vampires work with fauns?"

"About as often as banshees do."

"So…" Fitz frowns. "What are we saying? It wasn't vampires? Okay, but what does that change? They're aliens-. Ah. Present company accepted, no offence intended."

"Some taken."

"And they were smuggling guns."

I take out my pistol and hold it up.

"That's a very nice gun?"

"I don't have a British permit. And I don't remember declaring it when I crossed the border."

"Nick." Fitz leans over and wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Let me tell you something I learned in the CIA. Laws are things you punish other people for breaking."

I slip the gun back into its holster. Thing is, he's not entirely wrong. I knew that the Alliance rode roughshod over local law in order to protect the Earth from hostile aliens. But if we're working for… Governments, couldn't this be solved by a phone call? Someone's got to be in the know.

Fitz snaps his fingers. "Got it! Plane falls, everyone dies!"

"Ah." I frown, because if he's saying what I think he's saying, that could get a lot of people on that airbase killed. "If Trueblood's finished with the planes, we could fly one-."

"No, no, no. That just raises more questions. We need to figure out something where no one wants to ask anything."

I glance at Perrera, but she's… Smiling. No help there.

"Okay?"

"The airbase is on high alert, because it's a military base that's now holding a load of high-tech equipment. But they don't know that that's connected to the agents they're holding, otherwise they'd be in a military prison rather than a police cell."

I nod. They probably haven't tried getting fingerprints from the captured weapons yet, and while fingerprints are unique, actually matching a fingerprint on a surface to one on someone's finger is more an art than a science. If the London police haven't put their records on a searchable computer system yet…

"You see, sometimes… You get a prisoner you don't want to have as a prisoner."

…

Sometimes, I forget that Fitz used to be in the CIA. And that his honest, open face is just about the best asset he has for deceiving people.

Perrera tilters her head to the side a little. "Okay? And what happens to them?"

"Well, sometimes they end up in someone else's prison. We used to have friends in South America for that. And the Middle East. And sometimes it turns out that someone made a mistake and they were never prisoners in the first place!" He shrugs in mock helplessness. "What can you do? And sometimes you get a bunch of people on a plane… And there's an engine failure."

He shrugs, still smiling.

"These things happen."

Sh'lainn nods her head. "And that's why I don't trust those mechanical death-traps."

Ah. "So..?"

"There's nothing like prisoners suffering a mechanical failure related 'accident' to make everyone involved really forgetful. We bring the prisoners up here using Ministry of Defense documents, load 'em onto a plane and then fly them up. Then we do a mid-air transfer before dropping the plane on anything we want destroyed."

Perrera frowns. "What about the airmen on the base?"

"Oh, we can warn them. Tell them that the plane's coming down and they need to evacuate. Then the plane lands, and they call the Ministry to find out what went on… But there's no one there." He shrugs again. "They'll think it was an MI5 black bag operation. MI5 will say it wasn't, but… Of course they would."

Perrera shrugs. "We've used worse stories."

I nod. "That all sounds disturbingly possible. But we-."

The communicator goes off. Perrera gabs it.

"Agent Perrera. Go."

Trueblood's face appears. He looks pissed.

"The Green Knight is still active in the area. He is very resilient. He took fire from-."

He winces, and the camera moves to show me a medic working on his hand.

"From several plasma cannons without slowing down, and his sword cut through our mechs like they were made of aluminum foil. I've got seven wounded agents and one fatality, and the local police showed up just as we got out of the area of operation. Be careful, don't go anywhere alone and prepare to get out the moment he shows up."

Sh'lainn looks dubious. "Did you run into some fauns, by any chance?"

For an instant he looks angry, then he gets a hold of himself. "That's irrelevant. Trueblood out."

"So…" The screen deactivates and Fitz looks thoughtful. "I heard 'no vampires and good luck with the unstoppable knight'. Everyone else hear that too?"

I sag slightly, sighing. "Thank you, General Rinaker."