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

[Mr Zoat]

3rd July 2012
11:23 GMT -5

"I clearly underestimated you."

The Assimilator and I smile at each other. Very briefly smile at each other.

"This is some high grade… I almost want to say evil, and I don't believe in evil."

Pharmaceuticals. Yeah. Turns out that those pharmaceuticals are harvested from foetuses. Not in destructive quantities, as far as a quick scan shows, but they're basically overfeeding them to ensure the highest levels of production.

"And you can't synthesise this stuff more easily?"

"No. For some reason this is the only method that works. We've tried foetal cells, foetal tissue cultures, vivisected adults… We even tried editing the eggs so that they remain in the egg stage of development indefinitely. Nothing else works."

"Oh, I can believe it. That's impressive biological security. I'm sure that if breaking it was possible, you'd have done it."

"I still believe that we could. But at this point, it simply isn't worth the additional effort on a compliant planet."

"Have you considered a completely different approach?"

"Several. Did you have one in mind?"

"My homeworld has a number of time travellers living on it. Apparently, when you conquer my species, you remove all of the ones with useful traits from the general population and transplant them into an artificial environment where they're raised to revere the Reach. You gain-. Or rather, your successors, gain their loyalty by treating them as valued servants. Sometimes, social engineering works just as well as biological engineering."

"Why limit ourselves?"

"Because in every example we've been able to study, Reach biotechnological domination is inevitably followed by extinction. You people don't maintain servitor races. And then you've got places like this-"

I note the weak glow of my armour's rune stone with a lack of surprise. Natural alchemy. Which only works as long as no alien elements are introduced. It would limit the native species' growth if it's a required part of their physiology, but since the Reach don't use magic at all there probably isn't a way for them to bypass it.

"-where that approach doesn't work. As I understand it, the Reach hasn't even studied long term stable social engineering. I mean, you people like being in control of other species, but you always run them into the ground. It defeats the object of the exercise."

"'Time travel'?"

"Oh, my homeworld has all kinds of crazy things. Two years ago a god moved everyone under the age of eighteen to a parallel universe, and last month a sentient plant took over a continent. We have AIs that run on vacuum tubes and about fifty organic and semi-organic species that we know about on an isolated planet with no faster than light travel. It's like the Source got high and decided to dump every drug-fuelled flight of fancy onto one planet so that the rest of Creation wouldn't be bothered by them. Oh, and also, you were wrong."

"Wrong about what? Have you found a way to bypass the incubators in the pharmaceutical production?"

"No, I mean, you're wrong about me needing to bypass your dead man's switches. You see, if this was happening later in the war, you'd be right: I wouldn't care. Leaving you here wouldn't make our life any more difficult and trying to winkle you out might. I don't want to risk the lives of their unborn; the very notion is abhorrent. But today? Today is the first day of the war. We need to be able to show our allies a clean sheet. No setbacks. We know that we can't keep it up; we won't try to convince people that we can. But today sets the tone, and we need the tone to be 'it'll be a long war, but the Reach can't stop us'."

"We can stop you. And we will. I have stopped you, and I am merely a humble administrator."

"I never said that you couldn't. We merely need to be able to give that impression. At least, today."

She looks mildly curious.

"Do you intend to bribe me? If my loyalties change, the system will detect that."

"No. No, I want to send you back to the Reach with your loyalties intact. Which might be tricky if there were other worlds like this, but… There aren't."

One of the most fundamental desires of all species: propagation. Continuation. Species that don't have a desire in that direction are either synthetic or spawners, and the locals are neither. Our… Shared dispassion for the idea notwithstanding, it is a common and powerful desire. This metaphysical weight is why people react so strongly to any external imposition on their reproductive traditions, foolish as that may be. Our own lack of any real connection to these people is irrelevant; we can harness their desires perfectly well. And since those desires focus on the very objects we wish to move…

"World Altering Wave."

The world rings orange, and every gestating egg vanishes.

The incubators flare with incendiaries a fraction of a second later, but I'm already bowing my head in relief. The Assimilator just stares.

"They're-. What will you tell people now that they're dead?"

"No one's dead, you fool. I'm an Illustres." I hold out my left hand. "Illustres to Clarissi. We're going to need some amphibious incubation units. The type… Seven? Is probably closest. The particulars are on the database."

"Understood. Fatalities?"

"All of the Reach personnel except the Assimilator. I was going to send her on her way. I don't think we'll get much out of an interrogation, and I'd like them to be scared. All of the eggs are presently secure and awaiting the construction of facilities for their continued incubation."

I look over to the somewhat shocked Assimilator.

"Can I trust you not to kill yourself before we can get you a ship?"

"How..?"

"Fuck you, that's how." I turn to the Darkstars still shadowing us. "Jade, can your squad spare someone?"

Her exomantle shimmers back into phase. "I was wondering if you remembered who I was. Kellick."

A tall but strangely thin Darkstar steps forward, looming over the Assimilator.

"The Illustres wants her protected pending deportation. Make sure that nothing unfortunate happens to her."

"If I must. This way, Eminence."

I smile as the somewhat stunned Assimilator is led from the building. Yes, we should probably get her on a ship relatively quickly.

Ring, planetwide.

Compliance.

"This is the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. I'm currently holding your young in a pocket universe, and replacement incubators are being produced even as we speak. The Reach influence in this region of space is being destroyed. Our Supreme Commander will be in contact with your government with more details shortly."

End.

Compliance.

I turn back to Jade.

"That went well."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd July 2012
12:02 GMT -5

A crowd stares up in a mixture of hope and dread as the incubator takes shape. Since it would take far too long to ship an incubator in, Dox decided to solve the problem by handing orange rings to a cross section of expectant parents and 'egg tenders' and providing them with copies of the plans. That also serves to rather neatly prove that we've got no interest in holding their young hostage while also giving them a taste of the power of a power ring.

Not all of them are… Coping well, and I can see that I might have to disarm some of them before too long, but-

The first huge incubator network is complete, some of the temporary Lanterns flying at once towards the next site, while others remain on station as if daring me to fail to hold up my end of the bargain.

-they're performing well enough for now.

And we will repay them by fulfilling their desires.

An orange ripple passes over the structure, eggs at various stages of development reappearing as they were the moment they left, my ring and the Ophidian checking that their status is exactly as desired. The deputised locals swarm forwards, orange strobes and mundane senses rushing to confirm my work.

Jade watches cautiously.

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

"Life is a marvellous learning experience."

Her eyes narrow slightly.

"Have you done that before?"

"No. But between myself, the Ophidian, the shields the Venturians made and my understanding of the orange light, it was fairly… Intuitive?" I smile and raise my eyebrows. "Want a go?"

She looks around at the slightly erratic deputy Lanterns standing guard over the eggs.

"I think I'll pass."

"You know… Now the war's started…" I nod my head to the right. "It's been over a year since your release."

"Yes. You missed the anniversary."

"No. When we met, when we started dating, those are important anniversaries. When you got released is less important than when you chose to take a bullet for M'gann, because that was a choice. After you made it, it was inevitable that you'd get released."

"You always blow that out of proportion."

"Do you want to mark your release from prison?"

"Do you want to give me superpowers?"

"No."

"Oh?" She raises her eyebrows. "But you're offering anyway."

"I'm a pernicious individualist. It has to be your choice."

She looks away, eyes flicking from one part of the crowd to another.

"Thanks."

"Of course, there are other options. I have no hang-ups about you getting a power ring, and I'm pretty sure that Dame Carol could get you a violet ring."

"Mom's from Vietnam, not Japan."

"The Zamarons aren't prejudiced. And you've got no idea how smug I'd feel if you started making constructs powered by your love for me."

Jade gives me a small smile. "I have some idea. But why exactly is it that you don't want to give me super powers?"

"A ring is a device that you'd have to work to master, the same as every other Lantern. You know I got my ring by pure luck. Alan got his the same way… You wouldn't feel indebted, or… Violated."

"That's why you don't think I want it. That's not the same thing."

I close my eyes for a moment, exhaling softly through my nose. Then I step towards her, putting my arms over her shoulders and bringing my face closer to hers.

"Because I know you. What you value, how you think about me, about… Well, Ra's al Ghul."

"Not going with Dad, there?"

"No, that's personal. Ra's had plenty of followers, and…" I glance upwards at where a chunk of the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet lurks over the city. "Now I do, too."

"You've had those for a while."

"But you didn't see me with them. And since I know that saying I wanted to give you super powers would make you feel inadequate and saying I didn't would make you feel like I was holding out on you, I think that my current tightrope routine between all of the people you don't want me to be is the best approach."

She looks… Not annoyed. Curious, maybe.

"So you're saying that everything's a front; you'll say whatever you need to say to make me… Whoever I want to be."

"Oh, no, there's a real me here as well. But I exist in the patterns and approaches, not the individual actions or phrases. There is nothing I won't do but there are objectives I won't pursue. Things I don't want. I love the Jade you are and the Jade you will make yourself. I don't love a Jade who lives in my head that I'm trying to turn you into."

She smiles, and I feel her relax slightly.

"You know, I've warned my entire squad against dating empaths?"

"Dating your entire squad would be a lot of ways to split my time. Not.. that.. they're unattractive…"

"Better them than my mother."

"Oh, no, between the two options Paula's definitely the be-."

I see her roll her eyes for a fraction of a second before she pulls my head down, pressing our lips together. Between her armour and mine, we're not really able to hold each other close here, but I treasure every moment we-.

"Clarissi Dox to Illustres. Are you experiencing any difficulty?"

We separate and she steps away, returning her helmet to her head as she takes off in the direction of her squad.

"Illustres here. No, no trouble." I take another look at the eggs. "The first batch of returned eggs are unharmed, and I'll be moving to restore the rest once they've built the incubators. How are negotiations with the government going?"

"Adequately. They have no desire to work with us, but they would rather have us here than the Reach. Assuming that you are able to complete your work, I believe that I'll be able to secure this world for our alliance."

"Mission accomplished, then?"

"Yes. For today."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd July 2012
20:13 GMT -7

"…seemed to get on well."

Luna nods thoughtfully as we trot through the Canterlot palace.

"We did not get much of a chance to speak with Circe prior to Sunset's ascension. It is… When We first spoke with our sister 'pon our return to Equestria, We were… Struck, by how she had changed. Though her outward aspect was as it had been when We.. left, her manner of speech-."

"You-."

"Not merely the words. Much as We might like if it the lexicon of ponykind had remained unchanged, We did not expect such stasis. E'en in Our youth, the manner of speech of the tribes varied greatly. An aristocrat from Unicornia might struggle to understand or be understood by a farmer from Puddingville."

It's the way she says those names with a straight face.

"Nay, it is the way she spoke, not the words she used. After a thousand years of life, t'was not merely the words which had changed. She is a very different pony. Yet, at times, she is not. When We speak of our youths together 'tis as if no time has passed at all, yet when I speak with her on some point of history she grows… Almost… Vacant, for a moment."

"It's probably not that easy to remember a whole era without a reference."

"She does something similar when We ask about a point of law or legal custom. No doubt she is casting her mind back to the situation which led to it arising, but it is… Strange to see. A face so familiar briefly becoming so unfamiliar."

We pause on a cobbled veranda, looking out across the artfully arranged flowerbeds. It took the gardeners a little while to get it back under control after Sunset's floramancy test, but they've done sterling work.

"I suppose we've both got that to look forward to." I shrug, and I actually manage it without flipping myself over. "I could ask Hippolyta if Circe does something like that, but they're both roughly the same age so I'm not sure if she'd notice."

"It did not occur to either of us to ask Starswirl if becoming… We did not say 'alicorn'. That word meant something different in those days."

"What did you call… What you are?"

"Starswirl described what we would become to us as 'winged unicorns'."

I frown. "So were you not meant to have Earth Pony attributes?"

"No, t'was always the aim to grant us the magics of all three tribes. Rockhoof did query the name at the time. Starswirl stated that he chose it because the wings and horn would be the most outwardly visible sign of our change."

"Aside from being more than twice the size of a normal pony."

Luna smiles. "From what We remember of his expression, We do not think that he entirely anticipated that aspect of our metamorphosis."

I raise my eyebrows. "Sunset was right about him not knowing what he was doing?"

"We would not put it quite that way. He knew that combining the magics of the three tribes in a single individual would produce a change, and the fact that we survived indicates that he…"

She stares impassively at my face.

"You are wondering how many times he attempted it before us."

"Little bit."

"You have a most suspicious mind."

"I-." … "Yeah, maybe. I'm not trying to say that he was just.. transforming you to show that he could or anything, but Sunset was pretty clear what could go wrong if the caster misjudged things. If he couldn't be certain exactly what would happen, a certain amount of trial and error might have been necessary."

"It could." We both turn -Luna with more grace than I- as Celestia emerges from behind a tall bush. "But we lived in an isolated manor near a small village. If anypony had gone missing, we wouldn't have missed the hue and cry."

I raise my eyebrows. "'Hue and cry'?"

Celestia bows her head slightly. "Luna's way of speaking is rubbing off on me. It did use to be mine as well."

"Sister." Luna walks over to nuzzle her. "How fare you this eve?"

"I am…" She sighs. "Sunset has been spending time with Twilight."

"Yes?" I shrug again. "She sees Twilight as a kindred spirit and fellow magic talent. She doesn't let the fact that Twilight's your student get in the way, and… Twilight doesn't let the fact that Sunset works for me get in the way."

"Generous of her."

"Either the law applies to everyone or there isn't a law, just degrees of privilege." I frown. "Where did Spike's egg come from?"

Luna wing-prods me and I look away.

"Question withdrawn."

Celestia smiles at her sister. "Did you have a good time?"

"We met many interesting humans, and together we valiantly 'muddled through' the pedagogical parts of the event. We found considerable relief in seeing such experts as out of their depths as We often are, and think that We would like to attend future such events."

"I'm glad. And you, Grayven?"

"Sunset's kept me up to date as she goes, and since I don't really use magic in the way Luna does it doesn't have the same impact for me."

"Have you enjoyed your time in Equestria?"

"Yah. Just the rest-cure I needed. And from what I've been picking up, Artemis feels the same way."

"I'd glad that you feel that way. I.. have a request to make. I-."

"Sorry, but I'm a one-mare stallion."

"That-."

"Though one of my brothers is single. Ah. We've been out of touch-."

Her head rises and her eyes narrow. "It was you! You're the reason why my guards think that Twilight and I-. Luna, stop laughing!"

Luna's mouth twitches spasmodically and she bangs her right forehoof on the cobbles in an attempt to bring herself back under control.

"We-. We are sorry. We are sorry." Luna waves her right forehoof. "Pray, continue."

Celestia takes a deep and calming breath. "I would like to try to reconcile with Sunset Shimmer once again. Since you-" I wince. "-are on good terms with her… Is there a problem?"

"Your last meeting with her ending with her storming off wasn't enough of a clue?"

"Sunset storming off was how a great many of our conversations ended before her… Time away. She always came to her senses-."

"You mean 'acquiesced'. Look, I can accept that you genuinely care about her wellbeing and are just really bad at showing it, but… Do you genuinely not understand what she's angry about? The way you refused to either teach her or directly tell her that you weren't going to teach her? The way you concealed information and then acted like she was in the wrong when the whole reason she became your student was to learn magic from you? Am I getting through? Or has the millennia-long obsequiousness of an entire country reduced you to the point where you can no longer understand that you can be wrong?"

Celestia regards me levelly. "If you do not wish to help-."

"I want to help her, and I'm not going to talk her into talking to you again if it's just going to end up the same way it did last time, with her curled up under my wing and crying because you can't get your head around the idea that your living plush toy has thoughts and feelings of its own!"

Celestia sits, eyes wide.

"Yeah." I look away. "I'll mention it. And when this blows up in your face, maybe she'll do what I suggested and forget that you exist."

Celestia's lips tremble, then she clambers to her hooves and turns to leave.

…

"Though if you want my advice on an approach…" Celestia stops. "Don't talk about the past at all. Just do what she wanted from the start: teach her an actual magic lesson. Something she can't learn from anywhere else. I suggest teaching her how to control the sun, since my understanding is that you're the only pony who can do that. And think about what she's already told you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Back Seat

4th July 2012
14:01 GMT -2

"…afraid that with the war kicking off, I'm not going to be available for team missions or training."

Kaldur nods. "I understand. Are you sure that you can spare the time to tell me in person?"

I give him a mildly reproachful look. "Ow, Kaldur. Ow."

He looks away. "That was not what I meant."

"Clarissi Dox wants me as a mobile reserve, so I can jump in if things start to go pear shaped. And since I can appear and disappear at will on our side of the front line and could get blocked on the Reach side, being on Earth is actually better than being on the Reach side. Besides."

We both look over to where officials from various Atlantean city states-. And Venturia, are monitoring the counting of the votes in the plebiscite.

"I really think this sort of thing should be monitored by all of the interested parties so that no one can argue about it later."

This is actually the first time I've seen Proconsul Ptra, heir presumptive of Venturia. Presumed by Poseidonis, and presumed very incorrectly. King Cyprian greeted her with the exact minimum amount of enthusiasm not to give direct insult, and hasn't said a word to her since. She seems somewhat morose. I suppose she'd rather assumed that returning the wayward city to her stepmother's control was something she'd do just by existing, and here she is being told not merely by her cousin but by… About ninety eight percent of the adult population of her 'home city' that she was dead wrong.

I'm empathetic, but… Actually, not sympathetic. This situation could easily have been avoided. If they hadn't wanted me to shoot the hawk, they shouldn't have left it there.

"Lord-. King Cyprian has been scrupulously honest in his dealings."

"Good show. I assume that there's been discussion on the Atlantean end about how to handle trade, and an official border? Because there's two ways this can go, and not planning for one of them wouldn't be very clever."

"There are… Several outlines. For the most part, Atlantean cities do not greatly concern themselves with unclaimed territory outside of the city limits."

"Right, but they were all Atlantean city states. If the United States built an underwater colony I imagine that exactly where the border was would be rather important."

"Though they will be a separate country politically, culturally Venturia is still Atlantean. We still have more in common with them than with America, so they do not arouse the same degree of concern."

"I don't really know Atlantean inter-city politics. How much is this shaking things up?"

"King Orin has been quite… Vocal, about not wanting to be blindsided like this again. He intends to tour all of the Atlantean city states and confer in person with their leaders."

I raise my eyebrows-.

"He made such a tour when he first succeeded to the throne, but usually such things are left to the members of the national senate to bring to his attention if a problem arises. Given what happened here, he believes that he needs to become more directly involved."

"He's right." Kaldur glances at me. "He wouldn't have let this lie if he'd known about it, would he?"

"He would not."

He sighs, and looks around the counting hall once more.

"How is the war progressing?"

"The first day went about as well as it could have. On the other hand, we always knew that the Reach response to an attack would be weak to begin with, and that if the Reach Empire was the size of this room, the bit we've taken off them would be about the size of-"

I reach up and pull a single hair out of my head, then hold it out.

"-my hair. We've literally shaved a hair's breadth off their territory."

"It has only been a day."

"I know. I just want to manage expectations."

Looks like the counting is drawing to a close. The last of the ballot slips are being tabulated, three people signing off on each batch to make finding out who was at fault for any irregularities a little easier. That was a bit of a sticking point, actually. Cyprian was fine with a ballot, but had a little trouble with the concept of a secret ballot. He thought it seemed inherently dishonest, and… Having thought about it, I can sort of see where he was coming from. King Orin -coming from America- naturally assumed that ballots would be cast in secret. But in the end, we came up with a registration system which they could both live with.

Senior functionaries confer briefly, then the fellow from Shayeris whom the competing parties compromised on to oversee the whole thing approaches the two kings. I don't hear what they say, but from the relief on King Cyprian's face and the slight strain on King Orin's I don't think there's been any sort of surprise. But they shake hands, and I suppose that's as much as we can really hope for.

"Is Cheshire participating in your war?"

"Jade is, yes. Killed her first Scarab Warrior yesterday."

"You told us that they were what the Reach used to counter Lanterns during their war with the Green Lantern Corps."

"Yes, but they didn't do that by letting the Green Lantern Corps ambush them one at a time. In the early stages of the war Green Lanterns who'd been properly briefed took out the Scarabs on bodyguard duty fairly easily. Now that they know we're coming for them I'm sure that the Reach will be redeploying their elite warriors. I imagine we'll see… Clone infiltrators with implanted scarabs on our supply worlds within a few weeks. Ambush packs on worlds we liberate who will only go active if they get an Orange Lantern or L.E.G.I.O.N. officer on their own. They'll learn the most effective weapons to use against us, and… It'll get harder. And we managed this hair by bringing pretty much the entire Corps to bear on a single narrow front."

"And you cannot replicate that."

"We can, but that would mean leaving a colossal volume of space without Lantern support." I shake my head. "It wasn't really what I wanted, but we're probably going to have to copy the Green Lantern training system; bring people to Maltus for basic training and then have a field-mentorship with a more experienced Lantern."

Well. Field mentorships, because sending out a single neophyte with a single veteran is asking for the veteran to get mobbed and the new Lantern to be left panicking and unable to do anything. I suggested squads of five to Dox, one actual veteran, two with some experience and two just out of basic. He responded that a fixed number just told our enemies how many they had to watch out for, and he's not wrong. Reach intelligence on us is as bad as we can make it, but they're really good at keeping track of what's happening in their own territory and sharing that information. Data compilation and utilisation is their greatest strength, which is why my next stop is Mars.

"Will you speak to our other friends while you are here?"

"Of course. I'm not going to leave long-term without saying anything. And I need to talk to M'gann about the situation on Mars anyway."

"Do you believe that there has been a new development?"

"I hope not, because I want to borrow a lot of Manhunters, in the same sort of way that I'm borrowing Venturia's wizards."

"They may be reluctant to involve themselves in a war with the Reach."

"Then I won't involve them in that. There are a lot of uses for networked telepaths, and they do rather owe me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August 2010
16:08 GMT -5

I study the blood sample carefully.

Hm.

I had assumed that with the wide variety of super powers on offer on this.. crazy Earth, that it wouldn't be all that hard to enhance myself further. Except that when you take out all of the ones which -for some reason- flat out don't work on me, are lost in the mists of time or have… Really unpleasant side effects, there's very little left.

In… Theory, I could have managed the side effects of Venom Buster, but… I'm… Rather more attached to my body than that. It would make me tougher, but not tough enough for… Frankly, I think the ring would turn me back the moment I stopped focusing on the advantages. Who wants to be a hulking grey brute with no feeling in their skin?

My first choice was the General Immortus's immortality serum, for obvious reasons. But the man himself claimed that he only knew how to make it using substances that he'd already used up, and he didn't know what those substances were composed of because he ran out before the invention of mass spectroscopy. Finding a replacement was the whole reason why he became a supervillain in the modern era.

My second choice was that formula Lex Luthor used a few times in the comics to gain kryptonian powers. That would have had the side benefit of helping Mia with her underpowered human physiology, as well as gaining me access to them myself. But alas, it looks like Mr. Luthor hasn't developed anything like that on this Earth. And I've been looking very thoroughly.

Gingold? Like 99%+ of the population I'd die in horrible agony if I tried consuming it in the doses needed to gain the preternatural elasticity Mr Dibny uses it for. Miraclo? Has all sorts of side effect on the human body, and while I could undo them with the ring… 'Addictive' and 'orange power ring' are two things that don't go together at all well.

A veritable cavalcade of disappointments. Honestly, I got a bit desperate. I've been looking in all sorts of places for augmentations that actually work on me… Just about everywhere. The research notes of long-dead mad scientists. Government research programs that have long since been shut down. The occasional alien vivisectionist. And some of what I turned up is useful.. in.. various ways, but almost none of it could do what I wanted.

But this stuff…

I hold up the pale green vial.

This looks like it works. The animals I've tested it on get stronger, tougher and heal faster. And otherwise, neither their behaviour or appearance change. Well, not beyond the more dominant position they take in their social group as a result of being a whole lot stronger. It doesn't have an adverse reaction to my blood, ring simulations predict no negative effects… And if it does have some, it's all mundane so it's nothing that I can't reverse.

…

Right then. No need for anything as primitive as a syringe, but-.

Ring, monitor physiology and behaviour and inform me of any changes from baseline. Confirm command.

Command confirmed!

Right then. Dose me.

Right away!

Usually when I get an injection, there's an uncomfortable feeling of pressure in the vein receiving the injection. And I'm half-braced for that now, even though I know that the actual amount of the stuff entering my body at any one location is far too small for me to be consciously aware of it. If I wasn't.. studying it by ring-.

Yep. Yep. Involuntary muscle spasms-. I collapse to the ground, letting it happen but making sure that the ring protects me from any actual harm. My research showed that this only-. Lasts a minute or so in a human-sized animal, so it's just a matter of riding it out. A little disturbing to not be in control, but the ends justify the means.

Ugh.

Okay. I float up off the ground and back to my feet, flexing my arms as I do so. As expected, there's no outward sign of a change. I need to test it, but… Well, the ring could easily replicate the level of resilience and regeneration that would give me. And will, since I used it to give me something that I want. Which… Means I need to take it off. For actual testing, anyway. For just walking around I should keep it on for a little while, just to make sure that there aren't any untoward consequences in the immediate term.

I walk calmly out of my workshop and head in the direction of the Mountain's gymnasium. I haven't really used it much, but I was curious about how my ring-crafted muscles performed after I first got here and did enough to give me an idea about what my new limits are. Which means that I've got a performance baseline to compare my new abilities to.

Not much going on today. Mia and M'gann should be out of school by now, but they're both involved in after school activities so them not being back yet isn't a surprise. Wallace is.. probably doing something similar in Central City. Kaldur might live here, but unlike me he is a full time 'partner' of his mentor… Though I'm not exactly sad that Lantern Sur doesn't spend more time on Earth. Not that he was rude in the… One, five minute meeting that we had, but I… Don't really want to be exposed to the Guardians of the Galaxy at this point. Of course, of all the Lanterns who could be relied upon to keep the existence of a new Corps quiet…

The gym equipment is exactly as we left it after Mia's last workout session. Kaldur uses it as well, but he prefers simple things like dumbbells and barbells or just straining himself on a mat rather than the various more complex machines. If he wants to run, he goes outside rather than using a running machine. If he wants to get a full-body workout he goes swimming at extreme depths.

Okay, ring off-. Hah. Scan environment first.

Nothing untoward detected!

Then the ring comes off. I crouch and put it down on the ground next to the leg press. The weight… Is something that would be manageable but require effort with my normal muscles. That'll do for a first test. I stand, take off my jumper and drop it down next to my ring. Then I climb on board, laying back and putting my feet on the mechanism of the press. Settle in place and then push-.

Heh.

I push up and down, and up and down, and it's like it's nothing at all. I can barely feel the weight. I put it in a position which causes a continual strain and… Yes, I can hold it easily.

It worked. I mean, of course it worked, I've tested it thoroughly. But seeing -and in this case doing- is believing. I push against the press again and then relax, and then repeat a further eight times to check that it isn't… I don't know, a short term effect or something. No, just as easy as at the start. I'll need to test the added endurance later.

I get up, walking around the machine to move the pin… Did Kaldur ever tell me how much he could push on these? I'm coming up blank, but my memory is only perfect when I'm wearing the ring. That felt like nothing, so… Half again? Double? Double sounds about right. I move the pin and then lie back down.

Push…

I can feel it, but it still feels like less weight than the lower weight used to. Of course, these are standard gym machines designed for fit but essentially mundane humans. None of the records I got on the formula I used suggested that it could grant true super strength…

I do ten repetitions, then try to hold it in an awkward position. Mild burn, but I'm fairly sure I could-.

"Oh. Hey."

I turn my head as Artemis-. The name brings a smile to my lips. As Artemis walks in, wearing black jogging bottoms, a green sports bra and.. she's still got her mask on. She looks around for a moment and then marches over to one of the rowing machines.

"Good afternoon."

"Didn't think you worked out here."

She puts her towel and water bottle down beside a rowing machine, then moves the seat a little forward. She.. is a fine looking young woman, the tight clothing emphasising her athletic physique and secondary sexual characteristics.

"I usually don't, but I want to keep a record of my performance."

I move the plate back to the rest position and sit up, watching her as she takes her seat and reaches forward to grip the handles.

I… Want her.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Her legs bend, the muscles beneath the skin of her bare shoulders shifting and her breasts answer the call of gravity to the best of their bra-bound ability as she leans towards the pulley, then shifting back as she straightens her legs and then pulls the handle towards her so that it's resting just under them.

How to approach her?

I stand, walking over to my own weights and moving the pin… All the way up. That seems about right for unusually muscular humans and low-tier super strength. Boosted strength? I shouldn't sound like I'm claiming to be in Superman's league. Then I sit back down and take position, my eyes moving back to Artemis as her limbs tense and relax in the smooth motion of someone well accustomed to the machine they're operating.

I push against the footplate and… Yes, that's a bit more like it felt on my first time. Keep up a steady pace-. I find myself matching Artemis's delicious movements without really thinking about it, and… I suppose that she makes a reasonable metronome substitute.

"Are you going to be checking me out the whole time?"

"Probably. But I wouldn't want to be unfair about it." I pause with the plate in the halfway position, then take hold of my t-shirt and pull it off, tossing it to the side. With no ring on I've started to sweat normally, and while I'm no expert on masculine beauty… I wouldn't look like this if I didn't really like looking like this. "Fair?"

"Ahh. That's… Not how it works."

"You ogled Kaldur in the middle of a mission, in all of our heads." I carry on pushing the weight, keeping my own rhythm. "You can be a hypocrite if you want, or you can take the opportunity to engage in reciprocal staring."

She appears to take that on board, and returns to her exercise.

"What happened to your ring?"

"I can't get good data if it constantly refreshes me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The ring stops me getting hot, or short of breath, or tired. It's great while I'm wearing heavy armour, but I can't exercise like that. What brings you here?"

"It's free."

I snort with amusement. "Good answer."

"And I'm pretty sure that criminals watch the gyms, see if they can spot the local crime fighters working out."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I can imagine Batman going down to his local gym, and everyone around him staring at his scars and deciding that he must be a super-tough mob enforcer."

Hm. There's something satisfying about moving a pile of weights this big. I'm not exactly… Feeling a burn, but it.. feels different. I assume it's just that I haven't adapted to the dramatic change in strength, but I'll have the ring check just in case.

"Batman's got scars?"

"He's a baseline human who fought the Gotham mobs at their worst. Of course he's got scars."

"Yeah, I-." She makes a small frown, then face-shrugs. "Just.. kinda assumed that he was too good for that."

"Very good at what he does, yes. Invulnerable, no. Everyone's got to start somewhere. He started using the bat motif after he nearly got stabbed to death by an underage prostitute on his first night back in Gotham."

"Robin tell you that?"

"No. Catwoman. She used to work for the same pimp."

"Catwoman was a hooker?"

"Where did you think she got the whip?"

"Oh. Ew."

"If you want to meet people with normal life stories, you're in the wrong vocation. Though if you don't, I'm free at seven."

"K-. Seriously?"

"What? You're hot, I'm hot, we've got this hobby in common. There wouldn't be any of that 'making up excuses why you have to dash off' nonsense that spikes so many superhero/normie relationships…" I shrug. "And don't think I haven't noticed that you've been taking me up on my offer."

"Yeah, I'm-. Not.. really looking for a boyfriend right now?"

"And yet, you found one anyway. Aren't you lucky?"

"Tch. Narcissist, much?"

"I'm an Orange Lantern. I'm very in touch with my desires, and you're what I desire. And you are not in touch with your desires. You want to stare, but you feel weird about it even though I've told you it's fine." Still pushing the weights up and down with my legs I tense and relax the muscles of my chest in turn. "Do you want to touch me? Because that's fine too."

She jerks her head away immediately, and I roll my eyes.

"You see, that's what I'm talking about. You want, then the moment you're offered what you want-."

"And you're so sure you know what I want."

"Everything you want? No. That you want a particular thing? The human body's reaction to sexual desire is perfectly predictable." I point to my right eye with my right forefinger. "Pupil dilation is the obvious-."

"Yeah, I-. Know about pupil dilation."

"Mine are pretty… Di-lat-ed."

She just exhales, then starts ignoring me. I wonder if she's got some other hang up I don't know about? I call the ring, making sure that I have absolutely no desire to have it aid in my exercise routine. It floats up and settles on my left ring finger-.

19th August 2010
16:16 GMT -5

Warning! Deviation from baseline thought processes detected!

I frown. I don't feel-. I don't think I feel any different, but I suppose that I wouldn't. That's why I set the ring to let me know.

In what regard?

For a start, you're hitting on a girl about half your age.

She doesn't know that.

I'm comparing your behaviour to baselines, here. I can't make moral judgements. And before you took that shot, you wouldn't have done that. And you certainly wouldn't have come on to the first hot girl you saw like you're doing now. And you wouldn't have responded with 'she doesn't know that' just now.

The animals I tested demonstrated an increase in dominance. Increased confidence. Do you think that's what it is?

I don't really think. So how about an experiment?

I'm listening.

What would you say to the idea of pulling her off the machine, tearing off her clothes and raping her right now?

It would be pointless. Aside from the fact that I don't think I'd enjoy it very much, I don't have any way to conceal it. I'd have the League after me, get you taken from me and end up in prison.

Yeah, see, that's definitely not the answer you would have given. What about the moral reasons relating to an individual's right to personal integrity? What happened to the fact that you like these kids?

…

Oh. Yes, I… Why… Aren't I… Considering that?

One obvious reason.

You can't just give someone an injection and remove their capacity for moral judgements. That's nonsense.

No, but psychoses can be seen in altered brain structures. And you still can make moral judgements because you understand what I just said. You just didn't.

Yes, but I would have done it automatically. Now I…

If you can't tell me…

It feels like a distraction. Something that would stop me getting what I want. And before, I'd have said that it was a way of forcing me to instinctively take into account the long term consequences. I can clearly still reason, but… That's undeniably a change.

I can still do a reset?

I get up off the exercise machine and head out of the gym, taking my clothes with me.

Not… Yet. I'm going to try finding another recipient again, now that I've got a better idea what I'm looking for.

That isn't what you were planning on doing.

Perhaps. But I'm not exactly that person any more, am I?

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th July 2012
19:46 GMT

"Prince J'emm, thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

He gestures up at the Martian sky, the giant telekinetic pillars piercing the oddly purple-tinted air as they squeeze the atmosphere into a narrow breathable volume. Martian biotechnology based on the pillars Mother of Mercy uses to control Ater Clementia's movement, they're the reason why Martians are starting to resettle the surface of their world in earnest. Near the tops of the pillars I can see clouds, the result of Mother of Mercy deciding that Mars needed more water far more than astronomers needed Halley's Comet.

**With all that you have done for us, it would be churlish in the extreme for me to refuse you.**

**Telepathy?**

He nods, smiling.. in a way that looks very nearly natural. He's copied Mister J'onzz's humanish appearance, though most of the Martians working around us maintain their default shape.

"I find it difficult to remember that the air is now thick enough for speech. And my children will know nothing else."

"How popular is the movement to reclaim the surface?"

"Unlike humans, Martians don't have a longing for privacy. But in some cases, the ability to live a little further away from one another may be… Beneficial."

"And I'm sure that was an implication that a Martian would have understood, but in my case…"

"My… Fellow Reds have been a.. little less receptive than I had hoped to my preferred response to the information you brought me on your first meeting with me."

"I see."

"My own city is now completely-. Legally, it is completely desegregated. And my cabinet is aware of the reason why I have taken such steps without an approving consensus in the Planetary Council. I will not try to claim that everyone.. has complied with my edicts or that there has been no push back, but… Things are changing. And my city is not the only one."

"And in the other cities?"

"They are… Most of them are moderating their position. They are generally so calcified that rapid change… It would tear them apart, to the detriment of all, including their Whites."

"There's a limit to how patient I'm prepared to be, Prelate." I turn away, looking out across Mars for the particular sets of desires I'm-. Hah. "How much trouble would it cause if I gave an orange power ring to a White?"

"That depends on the political beliefs of that particular White. If they were violent, it could cause a great deal of trouble. If they were peacefully inclined, in the current climate… I do not believe that it would cause more than we are already experiencing."

I.. don't really have time to mentor someone now. But Koriand'r should have time, now that the fighting in Vega has died off. I don't think that Komand'r has the right mindset for something this delicate. No, no, she's still too inexperienced for that sort of mentoring. I don't think that Tamaraneans have the same sort of emotional difficulties that Martians can.

"Is there anyone who might decide to be more helpful if I had a chat with them?"

"Yesss-. You mean other Reds."

"Were you about to ask me to ask the Whites to just-" **[Image of a riot officer beating a protestor with a truncheon]** "-lie there and take it?"

"Frankly, yes. I have shown as many Reds as I dare all that you have shown me, but the strongest resistance is coming from Green groups. They do not understand why those they considered beneath them are now decreed to be their equals, and I cannot share that information without causing the anarchy which I do not believe will help anyone. If the White population could be encouraged to gravitate towards the more peaceful reformist groups, that would make my job a little easier."

"Any Greens I can talk to instead?"

"No. There is no real Green leadership to the anti-desegregation movement. Yet, at least. Where the caste system is decreed the leaders of the forces which enforce it are Red."

Darn.

"Okay. I'll.. think about it. The… Other reason why I'm here is that I want to hire a large number of professional telepaths."

"'Professional' in what regard? I doubt that you need experts on telepathic music."

"Aside from the fact that L.E.G.I.O.N. would like to hire telepaths for military purposes, I'm here on behalf of the people of Colu. Currently, nearly their entire species is held in a computer network which locks their minds outside of their organic brains. We need people who can interact with that network and extract them, or delete anything that isn't an organic Coluan."

"Organic Coluan?" I nod. "You know that Martians… Cannot touch the thoughts of purely synthetic species."

"What if the system they're running on is made of organic brains?"

"I.. have.. no idea. But the sort of precise, controlled telepathy you're looking for… There is little call for it. I doubt that there are more than a few hundred professionals in the field who could help, and only a small fraction of them would be willing to leave the planet. You may be better off asking M'gann M'orzz."

"M'gann can't simply leave Earth for weeks or months on end like that. And while she may have the power, she hasn't really had the opportunity to learn the precision a job like that would require."

"It will be a simple matter for me to make potentially interested parties aware of your request. As for the use of telepaths for your military-."

"I can talk to the more violently-minded Whites, but that leaves the worrying possibility that they might come back with L.E.G.I.O.N. training and form a far more effective insurgency."

"How long will you require their services?"

"Probably a few decades."

"If we haven't resolved the situation here by then, they will have every right to be vengeful."

"Are you speaking just for you there?"

"The prelates only rule Martian cities. If a Martian chooses to leave all presently existing cities, then there are remarkably few laws which apply to their conduct. Anyone who wishes to leave with you is free to do so."

"And to return?"

"I will guarantee that any who wish to do so will be able to return to Mel'dilo'rn. I cannot speak for other cities on that subject, though it is my hope that the matter will be resolved in a way they find pleasing by that time."

I nod. "Alright. Tell me who I'm going to be talking to, then post the job offer. Hopefully I'll be able to pick up at least a few interested people on my way back."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th July 2012
21:34 GMT

The situation in Xan'Xie is tense. The locals move around the caverns quickly, with no inter-colour mixing at all. Armed Manhunters are visible at every thoroughfare, and even without mobile faces I can feel the malice coming from the nearby Whites. Their bodies are.. non-standard. They've shifted to increase their musculature, and several are wearing decorations that.. aren't quite the red circle of the Hyperclan, but are certainly reminiscent of it.

John Stewart looks around.

"Are things usually this bad?"

"This city is generally considered pretty racist, but I haven't been here before. Prince J'emm implied that things had gotten worse recently, but I can't personally confirm that."

"This place is one wrong word away from a full blown riot."

"One wrong thought."

He frowns for a second, then nods. "I guess I should thank you for calling me in."

"That's really more something I did because I can't spend the time here that I'd need to. But it-."

"My Sector, my problem. I know." He looks around again. "And this really all happened because of that mission-?"

"How good is your telepath blocking?"

"Good. Not great." He points to the back of his neck with his right hand. "But I picked this up on Ogoro. Telepath disruptor. Just in case."

"Nice to see someone taking his personal protective equipment so seriously. But if things turn nasty here, you might want-"

I tap his cuirass with the knuckle of my right index finger.

"-something a little tougher than that."

He shakes his head. "Lighter armour makes me look less intimidating. Helps social interactions. If I was coming into an actual war zone I'd agree with you, but we're trying to negotiate."

"With telepaths who aren't used to human facial expression."

"Then they'll hear what I think-."

"No. Because…" I start to point at my neck, then point at his.

He looks away awkwardly. "It's not a hundred percent effective. Are we supposed to be meeting someone-?"

A lot of Whites converge on one of the entrances. Civilian Greens stream away in all directions while the Manhunters hold their ground.

"Uh-oh. This our guy?"

I take a look at the desires of the group.

"Those are Martians who have the desires I'm looking for. Combined with the Hyperclan emblem they're narrowly not wearing, I'm pretty sure that he's in there. But they're shapeshifters and I've never met him before, so I can't swear to it."

The Whites try to enter the cavern in a mass. The Manhunters move to stop them. The Whites stop advancing, but they don't retreat an inch either. I can't hear it, but I rather imagine that the Manhunters are trying to give them orders to that effect. It's a weird silent film version of deliberate provocation chicken, and even knowing how serious it is it still seems a little ridiculous. Other than the body structure alterations there isn't even any body language to read. They're just floating there next to each other.

"John, you're up."

"You don't wanna take the lead?"

"You're the senior Sector Lantern."

"Gee. Thanks."

He flies upwards towards the pending confrontation. Not his first time defusing this sort of confrontation; he was trained by Katma Tui on Korugar when it was trying to decide how to govern itself in the post-Sinestro era, and that was anything but peaceful. I-.

"Excuse me? You're… Orange Lantern, right?"

I turn around to see a White Martian who has adopted the humanish appearance well enough for me to see that they're nervous. Or at least, mimicking the outwards appearance of humanoid nervousness.

"One of several hundred, yes."

"Yeah, but, the one who M-. Who comes from Earth?"

"Was that cut off sentence 'who Mister J'aarkn met'?"

"Um." The Martian awkwardly rubs his hands together. "Yeah?"

"I met him, certainly. And I'm aware of the memories he's been sharing, and while I'm sure that you're perfectly capable of assuming attractive shapes, that's not why I'm here."

"Ah. I hadn't-. Uh. R-? Really? Because. No no no, just forget I… Um."

"What was it you wanted?"

"Is there going to be a fight? Because I don't want to be here, but they're closing the exits."

I look around… Darn it.

"If it comes to it, I'll shield any bystanders. But we're trying to avoid having a fight break out."

"I don't just mean this cavern. When Mel'dilo'rn got rid of the Neapolitan laws I wanted to move there, but the Prelate brought in travel restrictions. We've got even less freedom now than when the changes started."

"Are there a lot of people who want to get out before things blow up?"

"Is that an option?"

"I'm here to hire some people for work off planet. I mostly need skilled telepaths or people with military experience, but if you don't mind learning then I can make use of you."

"I'd.. love to get better at telepathy. We only get basic education here. I know that's not the case in other cities…"

We have a few telepaths in L.E.G.I.O.N., and… One, in the Orange Lantern Corps. On the other hand, I could just hire Mr. King to train them up. I doubt that he'd mind taking time away from Earth.

"If you had existing skills in that area, I'd recruit you at once. As you don't, I'm afraid any offer will have to wait until-"

I feel it as John activates his ring, and look up to see him sticking a construct barrier between the belligerent parties.

"-after I've spoken to your Prelate. Excuse me."

I fly upwards, a somewhat fixed smile on my face. I know it's useless for exactly the same reason I gave John, and I'm doing it for the same reason he did. I never claimed to be perfectly rational.

"Lantern Stewart. Problem?"

The Manhunters draw their guns and point them at one of the Whites, who doesn't outwardly react.

"No. No problems. But we might wanna change of venue."

"Not a problem. We can all fly. Why not have our meeting right here?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th July 2012
21:39 GMT

The White Martian with the guns pointed at him looks my way.

…

"If you think I'm lowering my telepathic defences in a situation like this, you've got another thing coming. I realise that it's not your preferred way of communicating, but I would appreciate it if you could speak out loud."

The shape of that Martian's throat changes slightly.

"This.. is.. inefficient."

"Direct contact with my mind can be… Unhealthy. Non-green power rings require a rather emotional mind state, and I've knocked Manhunters out through simple mental contact before. Besides, would you want-" I glance at the four… No, now eight Manhunters who are guarding the tunnel. "-to risk them influencing me into attacking you?"

One of the Manhunters jerks his head my way, his form shifting into that of a J'onn lookalike.

"You have been invited here by the Prelate. Your person is inviolable. I would rather let this mob cut off my arms than disobey her command."

"Let us say that I accept that you would not do so deliberately. Do you know enough about unshielded human minds to avoid doing so accidentally, by inadvertently imprinting your schematic models into my thought processes?"

"It.. should not-. No." The Manhunter doesn't look around, but the rest of the squad ripple and either adopt a similar shape -and given the appearance of one of them, they've clearly been watching Mr. J'aarkn's recording- or at least add a larynx to their default shape. "Are you satisfied?"

"I can only talk with people who can talk." I turn my head towards John. "Lantern Stewart, what set this off?"

"The Manhunters don't want to let anyone other than B'enn B'lanx talk to us. Which means everyone else has to stay outside. Mister B'lanx's followers aren't happy with that."

Gun-target White Martian inclines his head slightly.

"They think I might have an accident."

"I don't care enough about what happens here to want to kill you."

"So you say. But we Whites don't get access to planetwide news messages unless we steal them. I have no idea who you are or what you've done."

"You know how Mars has a habitable surface now?"

"It does?"

"Yes. Well, breathable atmosphere and enough of a magnetic field that you don't have to worry about cosmic rays. It's not exactly liveable yet, due to being a barren wasteland, but that's a work in progress. I was going to claim credit on the grounds that it was an Orange Lantern who got things to this stage at my request, but I suppose… If you didn't know about it there's no credit to claim."

"I suppose that it's nice that you made an effort."

"I'm also why most Martian cities have relaxed or abolished restrictions on their White inhabitants. I assume that you knew about that?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because colour-based restrictions with no basis in biological reality are horribly unfair. I have a White-."

"You have a White. Best. Friend."

"M'gann M'orzz is the only Martian I know well enough to call a friend, and she's been on Earth for over two years."

For a moment I consider creating a construct image with her likeness, but of course colour is important. Instead, I take out a hologram projector and generate an image of her default form, next to one of her monochrome mission form.

"Have her reports of earthly heroism made it this far?"

"No. We would never be told anything about a heroic White."

Well, darn. No, I suppose that they wouldn't, and Martians probably wouldn't consider heroics on Earth all that important anyway.

I tap the side of my forehead with my right forefinger.

"Alright. I'll focus on everything heroic I've seen her do. For your own safety, don't stray from my surface thoughts. And-" I look around the crowd. "-just you."

"Fine."

I feel a slight push even as I go through the mental transformations needed to remove my shields. My familiarity with M'gann and Henry means that I also feel his response to an alien mindscape: a distinct hesitation. Good. That shows good sense and is what I wanted anyway.

**[Meeting M'gann for the first time.] [The fight with Mister Twister.] [Santa Prisca.] [Red Volcano.] [J'aarkn, when she went white full time.] [The Young Offenders.]**

I skip the Burner without making it obvious that I'm skipping something. If he were more used to my mind he might spot it, but since he knows that he's getting a slideshow it doesn't appear to register.

**[The Star Conquerors.] [And a hundred snapshots of minor social interactions and heroic deeds that didn't qualify as full-fledged missions.]**

"I see."

His eyes glow faintly, and from the way the Martians closest to him are doing the same I assume that he's sharing what he saw with them.

"Do you accept that on the balance of probability I do in fact have a White friend?"

"Yes. And you have no special reason to harm me." He raises his right arm and points to the talkative Manhunter. "That one does."

"Would you accept a smaller bodyguard? The rest could stay in the next cavern and watch telepathically."

The talkative Manhunter grimaces. "They should do what they are told."

"You can go back to beating up unarmed civil rights activists once I'm gone. My understanding is that you've been told that I'm allowed to have this meeting. I'm choosing to have it with…" I count Manhunters. "Twenty White Martians rather than a hundred. Or one. Is complying with my request a problem?"

"Yes. They aren't our only security concern."

"Last year the Hyperclan tried to kill me when they tried to undo the mental reprogramming of a convicted rapist and murderer I was visiting. The fight ended with most of them retreating while one remained in Manhunter custody. I doubt that the violent fringe of the White Rights movement regards me fondly."

I pause.

"You have access to those records, don't you?"

"Yes." The eyes of another member of the squad light up, presumably the communications specialist. "We will confirm-." An eye-flicker. "I see. Very well. We accept your claim. We will permit you to discuss matters with a small group. The rest will disperse."

"The rest will remain outside."

He stares at me, and his eyes flicker for a moment.

"Very well."

"But. " I turn back to Mr. B'lanx. "No one with the Hyperclan symbol. They already tried to kill me once. I'm not keen on them trying again."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th July 2012
21:45 GMT

"…that's the offer. We're happy to accept anyone interested, though we'll be giving better terms to those with the skills we most strongly desire. There's a L.E.G.I.O.N. flotilla in near-Earth space now where I can drop you off for basic training while still keeping you close enough to other minds to avoid catatonia." I pause a moment. "Any questions?"

"You want us to flee?"

Mr. B'lanx sounds unconvinced.

"I want you to come and receive professional military training in a place where you can buy weapons with your pay. If Prelate J'emm is successful, you'll be able to return to an egalitarian Mars where your company can be folded into the Manhunters. If he failed… You'll have professional military training and guns."

The Manhunters come to alert, the air around their hands trembling faintly with telekinetic force.

"You will leave-."

"No."

"No, he can stay." Mr. B'lanx tries to smile. I've seen worse. "I'm actually interested."

"And it's not like you actually want him here." I look through the walls surrounding us, unfocusing my eyes as I try to take in the desires of the population of the city. "You're looking at a violent uprising and you know it. The other city states think you're a bunch of colourist arseholes. A few years ago they would have coached it in terms like 'highly conservative', but now there's a cultural revolution underway. And when the uprising happens, no other city will send you help. The city's garrison is all you'll have, and it isn't enough to suppress a population who hate you this much."

"Or. You can send the loudest mouths off the planet for a few years. At worst, that will make the uprising weaker, maybe into something you can actually fight off. At best, your radical elements decide that it's not worth coming back to somewhere they're detested and get given a planet in Reach space to settle by the Controllers." I raise my eyebrows. "Doesn't that sound better?"

"It is not my place to say. But you are talking about arming rebels."

"No. As Prelate J'emm told me, once they leave this city, they stop being covered by your laws. And they stop being your prelate's responsibility. A potential invasion from another planet is the concern of the Planetary Council collectively. And-" I nod towards John. "-his, and mine."

"From your employee."

"I don't like these people. A few minutes ago most of them were wearing the emblem of a terrorist organisation that tried to kill me, several friends of mine, a group of civilians and let loose an insane murderer. That doesn't recommend people to me. I just want them to be treated as people, so that when they act up I can honestly say they were given every opportunity not to be total gits the whole time."

The Whites turn to look at each other, eyes glowing. John frowns slightly.

"This how you usually handle diplomacy?"

"No point in lying to a bunch of telepaths."

Mr. B'lanx turns back to me.

"How many Whites will you take?"

"I'd say 'as many as want to come', but there's a limit to how many we can fit on the ships. Fortunately, that limit is larger than the number of Whites in this city, so even if I get volunteers from other cities as well… It shouldn't be a problem."

"And for how long?"

"Depends on what job each individual ends up doing. The standard Unaffiliated Planet Sign-Up for L.E.G.I.O.N. has a minimum term of a little over two years service, then you've got the training on top of that. The minimum term for the Darkstars is longer, because Darkstars have traditionally been fairly fanatical and there wasn't any point in a shorter term. And if anyone just gets a civilian job on Maltus, the duration is whatever their contract says it is. The real barrier to returning is the fact that we don't have ships coming this way very often, and I'll offer a personal guarantee that after a year I'll fly back any group of at least a hundred individuals who wish to return."

"I will need to talk to my people about this."

"Fine with me. Lantern Stewart, could you coordinate with Lantern Coutara on transport arrangements?"

He nods. "Sure."

"The Prelate has not agreed to any of this."

"The Prelate only has the ability to disagree with the Whites leaving, and since they wouldn't be going to another city, it's a matter for the Planetary Council. I'm asking because I'd rather have an accord, not because I legally need one."

"Those laws were written without regard to alien contact!"

"Then your prelate should probably raise the matter at the next Council meeting and try and get them revised. But in the meantime, we all have to follow the law as it exists. Mister B'lanx? Do you have any further questions at this time?"

"Your ring. Is that one of the positions we can apply for?"

"Yes. However, the screening process is quite a lot more strict."

And after taking a quick look at you, I don't think I'll be offering you one of my discretionary rings. Sometimes, revolutionary leaders are true selfless believers in the cause. T'ronn is more like that. He doesn't expect to gain anything personally, just some opportunities that aren't available to Whites when they become available to everyone else. Mr. B'lanx is a believer too, but it isn't just about the injustice. His pride demands that he be the one who creates the change, and he's more than a little interested in exercising that power personally. He's perfectly capable of being an Orange Lantern, just… Not someone I'd take a chance on when I couldn't keep an eye on them.

"And then I could fly back myself."

"Clarissi Dox might take issue with you abandoning your duty station, and you'd be flying on your own for a very long time completely isolated from all other minds. But yes, in theory that's something which you could do."

"How long?"

"The war zone is on the other side of the galaxy. It would depend on how fast you are. Flying in normal space, I can do it in less than a day, but I'm the fastest Lantern I know of. I expect that most Lanterns would take a few weeks. In total isolation."

"I…" His eyes dim slightly. "Have no more questions."

"Then by all means, go and ask your people who is interested."

The Whites rise and head for the exit, the Manhunters still on duty moving away slightly to avoid… 'Misunderstandings'.

"Right. Now, I believe that I should meet with the Prelate. Would you be so good as to escort me to the palace?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th July 2012
21:59 GMT

"No."

"You may want to reconsider that."

Unlike my relatively intimate meeting in Prelate J'emm's office, Prelate P'thet's… Throne room is an expansive affair. Our Green Manhunter escort handed us over to armed Reds in the antechamber with a bizarre degree of grovelling, and as far as I can tell those Reds are part of the Prelate's all-Red bodyguard. The Red heads of the local Manhunter force stand in attendance, while a cross section of their Green subordinates kneel behind them with their hands on the floor in ritual supplication. And it's not just the Manhunters; the theme repeats itself amongst the civil servants and priests. At least, I assume that the Greens with the magic users are priests: their clothing is different enough that they might just be vergers or something.

The Prelate herself looks almost identical to every other Martian I've seen. Some ornamentation with what my rune stone says are enchanted accoutrements, but there's nothing particularly unique about the default Martian physique she's using. Whatever it does, it's not blocking my empathic vision. Unlike Mr. B'lanx she's not in this for herself, but rather to maintain a system of order that she regards as the divinely revealed correct way to live. A genuine believer in noblesse oblige, and in the natural inferiority of those she's obliged to. In the American context, she wouldn't set fire to a cross on a White Martian's lawn, but she wouldn't want them to be able to get golf club membership.

"After all, as I understand it, your office only grants you the authority to restrict your citizens from migrating to other Martian cities."

The composition of the attendants just shouts that they have a highly racially stratified society, and that the entire power structure depends on it. There's not a single White here, nor anywhere else in the building. The Greens are permanently genuflecting, and the Reds the only ones allowed to speak. The Greens are literally just here to take up room behind their hereditary overlords. And they're fine with it. As far as I can see, they consider this an honour.

"That is merely a specifically enumerated power. I also have a wide variety of powers which I may exercise in order to preserve civil order."

Fucking emergency laws. I hate those blasted things. I've heard it said that hard cases make bad law, but my personal belief is that a law should be able to handle unusual situations. If it can't, it's a bad law and should be improved, not entirely bypassed by giving supreme executive authority to someone. At least not during peace time.

"And you believe that preventing violent political radicals from leaving improves civil order?"

"Letting them go is an admission of defeat, of the acceptability of slights against the divine order. I will not sacrifice the future perfection of our civilisation to make a short term accommodation with a disruptive element."

"I… Shared a particular memory with Prelate J'emm last year. I was rather under the impression that he'd shared it in turn with his fellow prelates. Have you seen it?"

"Yes. But it is irrelevant. The 'Guardians'-" She looks… I'm guessing 'coldly', but Martian faces aren't all that expressive, at John. "-did not create order here after they left. Karmang the Good did, and this is the order which he decreed. The reasons he had for doing so are irrelevant, as is the origin of the groups for which he decreed it."

Ah. Blind faith. J'emm was willing to change things because he only kept it going due to the fact that it was tradition. Once he found out the true origin of the three colours he considered it rationally and realised that it was irrelevant. But P'thet has Word of Karmang, and is not at home to reason. Unless Karmang him or herself turns up in person-.

"I'm afraid that Martian records being telepathic has rather precluded me from learning about Karmang. Are they a god, or merely an enlightened Martian?"

"Karmang the Good was the greatest teacher and builder of our earliest history. He established our first cities and temples and taught the basics of agriculture and magic to our most distant forebears. He created our civilisation and ordained its proper order. We do not consider him to be… Something separate from Martians, but he is our most revered antecedent."

"Are you still in contact with him?"

"No. To the best of my knowledge he is long dead. Martians live longer than humans, but not forever."

"But you have access to magic. Don't you have necromancers?"

"No."

"Because I know some necromancers? I mean, if Karmang's final word is that the White Martians should submit to your rule there's really nowhere for me to go, but it seems to me that the highest authority on what Karmang wanted is Karmang himself."

"This is not a matter in which there is any confusion. All of Mars agrees that all of Karmang's disciples were Red, as were those he anointed primates and prelates. Even if I knew a way to communicate with his spirit directly, I would not trouble him over an issue like this."

Interesting. Z'üm was talking to someone called Karmang, and all of the Hyperclan members I met had Z'orr in place of their family name. They clearly had access to magic…

"And just to confirm: amongst Martians, magic is an unbroken secret amongst the Red priesthood? I understand that some cities are more liberal about such things than yours."

"Primate?"

The leader of the clerical delegation genuflects to the throne, then rises to face me.

"The energy manipulated by the arcane arts is theoretically available to anyone. But even in the most divergent temples, no Martian who is not Red has ever been taught, nor copied the style of magic taught there."

"And you have no records of either Green or White Martians becoming notable magic users outside of your tradition?"

"No. Those Whites who identify themselves as the Hyperclan are augmented by magic, but none have any skill with magic themselves. Once the Rite of Ending is performed they either die or are restored to their original form."

"So it's either a Red or an alien that's doing it."

"If… Forced to speculate, I would imagine that it was most likely a White who had developed a magic tradition independently."

"Is that..? Is that heretical? I mean, they wouldn't be using the tradition Karmang taught the Reds…"

"Yes, it's heretical. The tradition Karmang taught is the only tradition which fits within the social system which he laid out for us to live by."

"Do the other cities see it the same way?"

"If they do not, they hide it well."

I nod, and smile at the Prelate.

"Thank you both for the information. I feel obliged to inform you that I will be requesting clarification from the Planetary Council on whether you actually have the authority to do what you're doing, and given the general opinion on the subject amongst your fellow Prelates I fully expect them to say that you don't."

I bow.

"Thank you for speaking with me. I'll show myself out."

Without waiting for a formal dismissal I turn and fly away, back towards the main doors. The entire ruling elite, and not one that I could see had a contrary opinion. And not 'they had them, but were keeping quiet for reasons of self preservation.'. They've all drunken the kool aid, the White enemy within keeping them together in the face of the opposition of anyone with any sense.

I wonder if the Controllers do have a spare planet I can borrow?

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th August 2010
21:43 GMT

The old man frowns at me.

"'oo the fuck 're you supposed to be, orange Lantern?"

I land on the small patch of grass outside of his care home's dining room.

"Yes."

"Hah!" He smiles bitterly. "That shows me right up. Didn't know they came in different colours." He leans on the fence, hands dangling over the railing. "Fine, what'd'yah want?"

"Dennis Wilson. Formerly Vitaman."

The smiles fades a little, then he shrugs. "Maybe I am. What's it to you?"

"We've got a chemist in common."

"Not bleedin' likely. Everyone who worked on that's dead as a door nail."

"But they kept records. Which I acquired."

He blinks, his face relaxing in surprise. "Fuck me. Really? What the hell d'you do that for?"

"It was an augmentation formula with no adverse side effects. It seemed like a good idea."

"Well, yeah, they were tryin' t' make a bunch of remorseless psycho bastards, weren't they? So it's hardly a downside if that's exactly what they got." He huffs with amusement. "You had a fancy magic ring anyway, but you had to go out of your way to fuck yourself over."

"Is it a simple on/off thing? Does the psychosis progress?" He bows his head. "Do you have any leads on anyone with a little more technical knowledge-?"

"I haven't talked t' anyone on the boffin side of things since the War. You've got a better chance of finding any of 'em than I would. If any of 'em are still alive, which would be bleedin' surprisin'." He pulls a packet of cigarettes out of his back pocket and extracts a single cigarette. "You got a light?"

Anything untoward in that cigarette? Aside from the usual?

Looks fine to me.

"What, you don't like fags? Just like the fuckin' nurses 'ere. Not like I've got all that long anyway; the stuff doesn't keep you alive, it just lets you fake it better."

"No, I just wanted to make sure it wasn't a cyanide cigarette or something."

"My 'dyin' for king an' country' days are long behind me."

A crack of orange lightning strikes the end, which begins to smoulder.

"Ta." He raises it to his lips and inhales deeply, looking up at the sky as he does so. After a moment he exhales, returning his gaze to me. "Well?"

"Did you notice any change in your behaviour-?"

He frowns. "What?"

"Before and after. This ring can monitor my behaviour and draw attention to the anomalies, but I want to know if you learned to notice when you were acting out of character."

He sneers.

"Fuckin' cunt."

"Excuse me?"

"You're a fuckin' cunt, you fuckin' cunt, that's what you are."

I tilt my head slightly. Why would he..?

"I'll.. add 'possible Tourette' to the list of symptoms. If you don't have anything useful to say, I'll leave you to carry on dying in-" He flicks his cigarette directly at my eyes "-peace."

I let it bounce off my environmental shield.

"Are you trying to provoke me? Because it won't work. If I kill you, I can't get any more information out of you."

Warning! Deviation from baseline thought processes detected!

Yes, I spotted that one myself. An old man, whose only enhancement is something I added as an extra. He's not bulletproof, and the worst that can be said about him is that he's been involved in some 'shady' business. No murder sprees, no particularly grotesque behaviour -and he would certainly have had the opportunity for it- and he's in failing health. But I'm not even looking at his desires and it's…

The ant comparison is overused. But that's something like what I'm feeling. If I was in a room with a buzzing fly I might squash it or I might shoo it out, but I wouldn't care what the fly thought. Since he isn't actually a threat, I don't feel any need to kill him… But I don't feel particularly reassured about the fact that if he's anything to go by I don't have to worry about suddenly deciding to eat my team mates.

Of course I… Wouldn't worry…

"Nah. See, this is what I mean. You decided not to kill me. Probably don't think it's worth the aggravation. I can say what I want an' you won't care, 'cause it's a hassle. I can drop dead right now, and the only reason you'd do anything is 'cause there'd be a hassle if someone spotted you'd been 'ere."

"If there was someone else to talk to, believe me, I'd be talking to them instead."

"Fine. What else d'ja want?"

"Did you find yourself becoming more violent after taking the substance?"

"Nah. Enjoyed it more, but I was always a thug. Only real difference… Was I started planning it. Planning how to get at people, bring 'em down. So what about you?"

"It's been less than a day, and other than coming on to a colleague I haven't really done anything."

"Was it Wonder Woman?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Met her a couple of times, back in the war. Tried it on, but she weren't interested. Try'na live vicariously. You a poof, then?"

"I'm trying to keep the conversation professional. You don't know me, and I don't think I'd like you better if I knew more about you."

He shakes his head. "I don't know what you think you dosed yourself with, but if I was in your shoes I wouldn't be taking lip from some dirty old tosser like me."

"I'll take that as a positive sign. Do you have a particular technique for knowing when something you want to do isn't smart?"

"Yeah, it's called not being a prat. The formula doesn't make you stupid. If you're too thick to watch yerself, that's your lookout." He pulls out another cigarette, watching me carefully. "'course… If you're that worried, I bet your magic ring could sort you out."

"Probably. But I'm not worried, am I? Adverse consequences are… Just a variable I have to account for." I shrug. "But if you don't have anything helpful to say, is there anyone else I can talk to? Anyone else who's been dosed?"

"Yeah. My little Sal. Sally Smart. Works in porn now. Got a few of her early flicks if you wanna take a butchers. She's a petty bitch, but I don't think she's gone totally off the rails neither."

"I'll pass. But thank you. You've been marginally helpful."

"Fuck off."

I head upwards, considering the issue. So I can only consider practical issues. Anything else I'll have to refer to the ring's best guess about my pre-modification state. That's not good, obviously. I've lost a capacity. I should be able to change myself back, see how I feel about things and dose myself again if I think it's worth it.

Except that I'm not the man I was yesterday.

"Ring, just curious. Are my constructs stronger now?"

"Yes. Without the distraction of moral concerns, they're a little stronger. Old you would have worried a little about hitting someone too hard, though."

Just have to be a little careful. And… Supervillain serial killers exist here, and while the prison system isn't quite as revolving door as the versions in the comics, there are still repeated incidents from the same offenders. Maybe a little less reticence on my part will be a good thing?

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
10:23 GMT -6

Henry nods as another lawyer joins the huddle of interested parties.

"Phillip."

The lawyer nods back.

"Henry."

"The Doctor's.. been filling me in on Missus Salinas' condition. I don't think I'll have any trouble getting a reading." He smiles like a stage salesman. "And since we've all been here before, I doubt that anyone has any questions… Phillip?"

"Yeah, I kinda do. My client's been on at me to try and get another telepath, due to your relationship with the-" He gestures to the other lawyer. "-opposition."

Henry shrugs.

"My relationship isn't really relevant. You're splitting the fee. And if you want to hire another telepath then you can go right ahead; I'm always happy to meet people I can trade information with."

"There aren't any others in the state."

"There are a handful of telepaths who can do this sort of work in the country. And the only two I'd actually give a reference for are both Martians."

'Phillip' looks at me. "What about him?"

Henry shakes his head. "Orange Lantern is an unusually precise empath. He could tell you what early memories made her the woman she is, but he can't tell you what she saw right before she received her injuries."

I nod. "Even if I could see something, it would be so heavily connected with related emotional responses that I couldn't be sure about whether what I saw was actually what happened."

Phillip shrugs. "And her injuries?"

"Not the first time I've tried reading someone in a coma. If I can't get a clear reading then I can't get a clear reading. You wanna check, you can. I'm not stopping anyone, and nothing I'm doing will make it harder."

"And, ah…" Phillip looks me over. "What exactly are you doing here?"

"I wanted to speak to Henry about a long term contract, and obviously he had to discharge his prior obligation first. And of course if I do see something useful, I'll report it."

"Do you need to be in the room?"

"Not really. I'm happy to wait outside, if you.. don't want me in there."

He shrugs. "It's a small room. Two lawyers, a doctor, a nurse and Henry…"

I nod. "Understood."

Henry looks around the group. "Alright, shall we?"

The group heads down the corridor, Henry bringing up the rear. I fall in next to him.

"What's this about?"

He shrugs. "Well, I won't know what it's actually about until I get a look at Missus Salinas' memories. The legal action was pretty low key. Ah… A combination noise and boundary complaint. Right up until Missus Salinas was severely beaten and wound up here."

"So why aren't you here on the behalf of the police?"

"What, you thought the law relating to telepathic evidence was more helpful than the law relating to magic evidence? Come on, Paul."

"But even hearsay they can use to direct an investigation."

"And once they've spend a day or two pretending not to, they probably will. But at the moment I've been called in in relation to the adjacent civil suit. You do a lot of civil work?"

"Not since the eyes and cake thing. Though I did get called in as a witness after someone sued over an injury I healed and the judge wanted me to confirm the extent of the injury."

"Um." He leans in a little. "I don't suppose you can do something like that here, can you?"

"For a woman I've never met? The best I can do is give them the number for Doctor Sivana's purple healing ray trial."

"That thing? I remember Lyta using one a couple of times. Does it even work on traumatic brain injuries?"

"Why did you think it was called a 'trial'?"

He smiles ruefully.

"Fair point. So tell me more about this Mars thing."

"Martians have a three tier caste system based on skin colour. Last year I provided fairly overwhelming evidence that the colour was the result of Guardian biological engineering rather than some sort of celestial diktat, but unfortunately racism isn't about rationality. At least one city is devoted to a frankly off-putting degree to the status quo, and while I didn't get a chance to meet everyone, I got the very clear impression from the government that the top and middle castes are happy with the way things are."

"And how exactly am I going to help with that?"

"You're going to train the uneducated bottom caste members I help leave. You're already familiar with Martian thought processes-"

We enter the corridor with Missus Salinas' room.

"-due to training M'gann, though these recruits won't be as powerful."

"I've never taught a whole class before. How many people are we talking about?"

"I'm hoping to get a few moderate top caste Martians as well, and they can do some of the training. But we're talking hundreds."

"Hundreds?"

"Hundreds who've been using telepathy for their entire lives and are used to working in a low level telepathic communion at all times. Do a demonstration and they'll all see it from the perspective of both participants."

"How much am I getting paid for this?"

"How much do you want to get paid for this? I was going to index link it to a military academy instructor, with a percentage to take into account the rarity of your skill set. Final negotiations would be up to Supreme Commander Dox."

"And I'd be living..?"

"The L.E.G.I.O.N. ships have teleporters, so while the Martians are based here you can live wherever you're living now. Once we head back to Maltus… It would be most convenient if you could move there."

"Moving to an alien world." He smiles. "If I was in my thirties I'd jump at the chance."

"And now?"

"I don't know. You know… Infinity Inc. never really hit it big. No World War, we weren't interested in fighting the Cold War… Never got the kind of press coverage teams get these days. Ever since we met up the first time I've had a hankering to get back into it." He pats his stomach, which is appreciably flatter than it was when we first met. "My dietician approves, but the fact is I'm not as young as I used to be. Moving off-world?"

I nod.

"That, I'll have to think about."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st August 2010
10:12 GMT -7

"It's Julio, right?"

The drug trafficker and protection racketeer holds a revolver to the head of a… I'm going to say 'prostitute', but honestly she might just be the girlfriend of one of the gang members.

"GO FUCK YOUR MOTHER!"

"Ah, I'm sorry. I did French and German. The jay is supposed to be pronounced 'you', isn't it. In Spanish. Which would make you: You-lio. You-lio."

"Yeah, that's how you fucking pronounce it. Ow, my fucking back."

I ignore the man on the floor.

"Right? I don't know how often you've been in this situation, but this is a hostage negotiating technique, for establishing a rapport with the hostage taker. To enable us to understand that the other isn't some malevolent force of nature, but a person we can each talk to."

Of course, since I'm a sociopath with a power ring, 'malevolent force of nature' isn't a terrible description. But I keep up the reassuring smile anyway as I send an orange thread into the under floor crawlspace and towards You-lio.

But I am learning. He and several of his friends have insulted my mother, sister, grandmother-. None of them being clear whether they were talking about my father's mother or my mother's mother, though given how Spanish handles gender that might be a translation issue. They've tried insulting me more directly, and threatening both my life and my physical integrity. Hasn't bothered me. People insulting me isn't an issue. Which is tremendously reassuring, because if that formula had made me that aggressive there's no way I could hide-.

I'd have to reset.. myself.

"STAY! THE FUCK!"

Oh, right, the hostage.

The thread punches up through the floor and piths him, causing his body to lock up.

"BAck?"

His eyes still move and his head can still turn a little, but the rest of his body is under my control. I use a hand construct to put the safety on the gun, then calmly walk forward to pluck it from his unresisting hand. His hostage pulls away the moment she realises that he's helpless, making it two steps before tripping and collapsing onto the sofa. She scrabbles around, perhaps trying to keep us both in her field of vision.

Alright, I think I can call this a success. Deaths? Zero. Response to insults and threats, none.

Now, conventional morality would say that the correct thing to do would be to hand the apprehendees over to the local police, along with any evidence. Do I want to do that?

…

No. As expected, I have no emotional desire to comply with external expectations. Excellent! Progress.

Not sure I'd call that 'progress', sport.

'Progress' in the sense that I'm able to accurately predict the outcome of a test based on prior observations.

So the goal state is to be able to model yourself?

A goal state suggests that I'm trying to change. At the moment I'm just-.

The hostage jumps off the sofa and charges me, wrapping her arms-. Hugging me.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

"That's quite alright."

Now, if we evaluate this in utilitarian terms, well, my initial thought is to say that the world is better off without these thugs. Even if concealing things makes life a little hard for me, the expense of a trial, imprisonment, the chance of reoffending as well as the general permissive attitude towards crime this part of Mexican society has developed suggests that just giving all of them an embolism would represent a tremendous benefit to society.

But if we look at it from a rule utilitarian viewpoint, I've-.

Still got.. snot on my armour.

"Ma'am? Would you like me to phone someone for you?"

"N-no." She steps away, then approaches Julio and pulls a mobile phone from his pocket. "I can-. I can just use this."

I nod. Now, I was never great at interpersonal interaction, and it's quite likely that I'm missing something here. On the other hand, Batman hasn't said anything about ever doing follow up visits on the victims, so I'm just going to assume that once she's out of sight it's alright for me to just forget about her.

Ah… Yeah, I'm… Pretty sure that in utilitarian terms it's fine not to spend time on a single individual that could be better spent helping a larger number of people more seriously in peril.

That is true.

And I'm not hitting on her, despite her dishabille and emotional vulnerability.

You know you don't get points for that, right?

I'm just making the point-

I generate immobilisation stretcher constructs and arrange the gangsters in neat rows.

-that I'm not anything like as dangerous to those around me as we both were worried that I might be.

I'm not really capable of worry, exactly. So why don't we just-. Ah. I'm not sure that she's allowed to do that.

What is-?

"Ma'am?" The young woman looks up from the gangster's wallet. "While I understand the memetic drive to loot the bodies, I'm afraid that's evidence in a criminal case. If you need money for a taxi I'm perfectly happy to give it to you."

She rolls her eyes but shoves it back into his pocket. I note that she's kept his phone, but… Whatever.

Alright, rule utilitarianism. People benefit from seeing justice done. The public legal processing of these men will improve people's faith in the justice system and discourage those who would like to bypass it. Particularly if I follow up and detain their competitors. Some of the needs they serve will still remain, but it's not as if small business owners like paying not to have their premises ransacked. The disadvantage of this is that they might get out or.. bribe someone to have the charges dropped. In which case killing them would be the superior choice, because if the system really is that dysfunctional then there's no reason to work within it until it's fixed.

But I don't have any firm evidence of that, so it's time to contact the police. Probably the Mexican Federal Police, as they're less likely to be on the payroll of local gangsters.

So, in conclusion, I can fight safely like this, I'm not a threat to bystanders and I can still do work useful to the greater good. Alright, what would I have done differently pre-dosing?

You'd probably have run this past Batman first.

Increased confidence. We knew that was a symptom.

Yes, but it's a symptom because you don't care what he thinks, not because you're more confident in your abilities.

Our agreement is that I'd obey his orders, not that I'd be his slave. We've never said that I wouldn't take independent action. But, if you're worried about me not worrying, I'll phone him now.

That doesn't make me worry less.

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
19:54 GMT

"…relieved by how well you took it."

Commodore Amalak takes a sip of… Something expensive, no doubt.

"Though I personally thought that including you in the discussion would have made far more sense."

"Oh?"

"Your near-extermination of the Citadelians rather gave me the impression that you weren't shy about killing. I generally find that it's best that interested parties remain in the loop."

I'm curious about whether he's telling the truth or not, but not curious enough to want to brute force the ward he's wearing. I don't recognise the design, but to the best of my knowledge there's only one thaumically active world around here. And I only know of one magic user from there with whom he might be in contact. With the shield around Euphorix still very definitely up there's no way for Kalista to go home, so with the targets of the Omega Men's crusade gone I've really got no idea what she's doing with herself.

"On that score I very definitely agree. Did any of the survivors decide to stay working for you?"

"Regretting your decision?"

I shake my head. "Even if I was, I wouldn't just reverse it. People have to know that when you give your word, that's how things are going to be. How else can civilisation function?"

"Implanted explosives would work. Telepathic compulsion-."

"The second one doesn't."

"Oh?"

"My homeworld is home to dozens of native species, my own merely being the dominant one. But the next world out from our sun has a native sentient species as well."

"What a remarkably fecund system you inhabit."

I nod. "It is, rather. But the point is: a very long time ago that world was inhabited by… Can you imagine a species entirely composed of X'Hal clones?"

"Not without the aid of psychoactive substances. And I don't trade in those these days."

"Well, like that. They were so dangerous that the Guardians of the Universe stepped in and altered them. Changed them into something much less hostile and implanted certain directives designed to prevent them relapsing. And while as far as I know none have ever fully relapsed, there are plenty of very obvious problems that their civilisation has experienced as a result of the implanted commands."

"And the explosives?"

"I've never seen it tried. I suspect that the population would either be paralysed by fear or become so blasé about it that it stopped having the desired effect."

"I'm sure that your neighbours appreciate your belief that a man's word is his bond."

"You'd never know it to talk to them. Is Miss Gozzi-?"

"You know, I think I'm actually going to be offended. What makes her more interesting company than me?"

"Your species has already been reduced to below-sustainable levels of genetic variation, and I don't know where to find further genetic records. The Coluans are still a going concern. Narrowly. I can help their people in a way I can't help yours."

"Not… Easy to hear, but probably true. You never told me the outcome of your last visit."

I shake my head. "I never went to Colu itself. Starlag no longer exists, and its prisoners have been transferred to other locations. Vril Dox-. Vril Dox the Second-."

"I did assume."

"Accepted the twin positions of L.E.G.I.O.N. Supreme Commander and Orange Lantern Clarissi. But while I was there, I encountered a Green Lantern strike force going after the Computer Tyrants of Colu. I found out recently that they were successful in seizing the planet, but not before the residents were locked into a radiotelepathic network. The Green Lanterns haven't been able to crack it."

Amalak frowns distantly. "How.. many.. Coluans are held in that fashion?"

"It's a densely populated post-industrial planet. I think the total population is about sixty billion."

"And how many are.. at liberty?"

"I know of two."

He bows his head, the hand holding his glass going slightly limp.

"You will have.. whatever help I can give. What do you need Vran for?"

"As I said, my homeworld's neighbours are telepathic. I'm hopeful that they can pull the Computer Tyrants' thoughts apart while they're operating in an organic system. But they've never been exposed to Coluan thought processes before. Dox has just started a war, and while I doubt he'll object to a group of telepaths studying him, he's not exactly neurotypical."

That's… A lie. Dox grimaced when I asked, and I'm not sure how long he'd put up with it for.

"And then there's the issue of distance. He can't leave our command station to spend time having people looking at him, and transporting them would be a rather awkward prospect."

"Too far?"

"They suffer psychologically if there aren't enough other minds around. They usually spend all of their time in low-level psychic communion with one another, and struggle to cope without it."

"You want to take Vran back to your homeworld? Or its neighbour?"

"Actually, I'd rather bring them here. They need to get an idea of how she thinks when she's actually dealing with problems, not when she's stuck in an unfamiliar environment with little to do."

"Which would involve my most trusted subordinate opening her mind to a group of mental manipulation specialists for days on end."

"As I said, they're used to being in constant telepathic contact with one another. They don't have native faster than light travel, they don't have any contact with this part of the galaxy. They won't care about your commercial secrets, and..." I look away for a moment. "The memoirs of a member of their species who spent several decades as a pornographic performer on my world have recently been placed in wide circulation on their planet. I doubt that her personal life -no matter how interesting- could possibly arouse their interest."

"That-."

"Did I mention that they're also shapeshifters? Nearly fully protean?"

"As-. I.. don't think that will be an issue." He puts down his glass and stands, motioning for me to follow. "Much as I'd like to I don't think I can really order Vran to cooperate with you, but I'll certainly try to persuade her on your behalf. When do you want to begin?"

"As soon as possible."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
21:08 GMT

Vran Gozzi was not interested in visiting home.

"How are you managing?"

Fortunately, I'm a very persuasive man. With spare power rings.

She's not looking at me, eyes glowing faintly orange as her new ring feeds her data on the state of the silent metropolis below and around us. A lot of Colu was automated, though unlike human automation there wasn't ever really any use of computer systems as fast decision makers. Coluans are all sufficiently intellectually capable that holding data tables in their heads and rapidly responding to inputs without hesitation was easier than designing a computer system that could do it fast enough to avoid frustrating the user. However, the simple worker bots who kept the streets and airways clean and performed basic maintenance tasks were shut down by the Green Lanterns along with the combat robots, lest the Computer Tyrants use them to wage guerrilla warfare against the small occupation force.

"Acceptably."

"When were you last here?"

"I've never been here before."

"You've never been to Colu?"

She frowns, the orange in her eyes dimming for a moment as she finally looks at me.

"Your species are pre-FTL. Most advanced species have substantial numbers away from their homeworld at any given time."

"Yes, but I was under the impression that Colu had been isolationist for a long time."

"Isolationist by custom is not the same as isolationist by rule. We're not Kryptonian. The only part of Colu where I spent any time is on the far side of the planet."

"Did your parents spot what Vril Dox the First was up to?"

"No. They simply disagreed with the prevailing cultural imperatives. The Green Lanterns-"

Alert! Will detected!

"-are approaching."

"Good show."

Honour Guard Lanterns Lee and Aldo approach at speed, construct armour in place and weapon construct at the ready. Lantern Aldo is wearing heavy armour, through from what I can tell several of his limbs have been replaced with cybernetics so that could actually be his skin. Lee is wearing far lighter armour, though his constructs look decidedly more solid than most, to the point where I can't actually see through them.

"Gentlemen."

"Illustres. Gardner told me you got a plan. Let's hear it."

"We can't outthink the entire Coluan species while they're networked together. Not unless… I don't know, the Guardians want to handle it personally. But we might be able to pick apart the network telepathically as the Computer Tyrants have no facility for telepathy."

"You got an army of telepaths you're keeping quiet about?"

"I'm in the process of hiring one now. Martians are telepathic, and Mars is going through a radical cultural shift. Plenty of people will be happy to get away from home for a little while."

Lantern Lee nods, once. "That sounds like it could work. You got sixty billion of them?"

"There aren't even one billion Martians in existence. I'm assuming that I might get a thousand."

"That's not going to be enough. The Computer Tyrants got the locals in pods of a couple thousand at… Well, six million sites spread out across the planet. Six million telepaths who were real good might work. I don't see a thousand doing much."

"You've done something like this before?"

He nods. "Wasn't an AI doing it, but yeah. Had a telepathic Green Lantern with us." A small shrug. "Got their brain burned out trying to shift the load."

"Are the Coluans going anywhere?"

"You want to take things slow?"

"It seems advisable."

"Huh. Got to say, I was kind of hoping I'd get to see the big orange snake at work."

"You're not really my type."

His expression hardens slightly. "Don't. I get enough of that from Gardner. Are you definitively telling me you couldn't break up this network by yourself?"

"No. But I don't think I should push my luck like that unless we're close to a deadline. Do we have a deadline?"

"No one wants the Computer Tyrants back in charge. The Corps' enemies are just happy to have so many Honour Guard Lanterns tied down in one place. Unless Vril Dox comes back, we should have as long as we need. And if he comes back, it saves me a whole lot of time finding my next target."

"So taking it slow is wisest."

Lantern Lee nods.

If I don't get enough Martians, the other obvious place to go is the genomorphs. I'm not sure how Dubbilex would feel about an expansion of g-gnome production on that sort of scale. Would the g-lusca be able to outthink the Computer Tyrants? I imagine it would be a matter of quantity again.

"I would like to see them."

Lantern Gozzi focuses on Lantern Lee, who nods again.

"That won't be a problem. We've left the Computer Tyrants some sensors because I was worried about the isolation driving the population insane, but they don't have any way to affect the external world. They'll know you're there, but they won't be able to do anything about it."

"Can I leave you to it? I've got an appointment with the Martian government."

They both nod, and I raise my fingers to my forehead

and

reappear in front of the Martian parliament building. Much like the Palace of Westminster, it's a relatively recent building designed to look like something much older. Like one of the temples I've flown past a few times, actually. Which makes sense: the first temples were originally centres of learning and governance. There's a long association of the two in Martian culture.

There are a large number of Martians of various morphologies around me, on the ground and in the air. Colours are… I think they're mixed, but they're shapeshifters and unlike them I can't just read their minds to find out what colour they 'really' are.

Huh.

I wonder if there's a way to simply undo the Guardian programming? Or… Change an individual's programming from, say, Red to White. I wouldn't try that as a solution, because Martian social problems are social problems and not something the Guardians compelled them to have. But it could provide an interesting perspective.

J'emm's apprentice S'yrra is waiting for me just inside the entrance, and the Manhunters on duty -a mixture of Greens and Reds- don't attempt to bar my entrance as I fly up to her.

"Let's get started."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
21:41 GMT

"'…interest from a number of parties.'"

S'yrra is telling me as accurately as she can what the apparently silent J'emm is broadcasting telepathically to the rest of the Council. I've still got my shields up, and unless they specifically ask I'm not going to lower them. It's best if I maintain a single story regarding the safeness of touching my mind.

"'We have long been limited to Mars despite our technology making it perfectly possible to leave our world. Even at its most restrictive, this is an opportunity for Martians to hear the thoughts of those whom we would never have been able to meet without this...'"

J'emm is standing in… Martians don't have political parties or heads of state in the way that Britain or America do, so the system for determining who speaks is a little different. The parties who wish to present particular viewpoints pick a spokesmartian from amongst themselves, and they get to take a central position where everyone can question them. And because the telepathy is a two-way street, each party knows how and why each other party feels the way they do.

That may well go some way to explaining why P'thet isn't giving a speech for anyone. There was a bit in… Feet of Clay..? Or was it Fifth Elephant? Where one character observed that people like seeing virtue in others, as long as it doesn't cost them anything. And here, her 'traditional virtues' could well cost them a great deal. I don't expect that more than a radical fringe here are eager to give up their inherited authority, but P'thet's particular brand of fanaticism would just alienate people.

I'm a witness, along with the current Manhunter Marshall and… A couple of Whites I haven't met. One has a Manhunter escort and the other doesn't. Not sure who they are and I don't really need to know. Whoever they are, the Council will make a decision before too long and I'll just go from there.

J'emm steps back slightly, and another Red I haven't met before steps forward.

"'The principal issue for debate is not the role of any group within our society. It is not the extent of our involvement with aliens. And it is not the extent to which members of our species wish to leave Mars. The principal issue for debate is the relationship between the Prelates of individual cities and the Planetary Council itself. The issue is whether we are a government or a deliberative body to coordinate the cities. The legal question which Prelate J'emm brings before us is one which would not traditionally be one for us to debate and yet in the present circumstances we find that we must.'"

"'We are telepaths. Since Karmang established our civilisation there have been only a handful of our people who could truly be considered isolated from one another. And from the information Orange Lantern has shared with us it seems likely that we were not isolated from one another even before that. But distance…'"

I tune out the rest of -coin flip- his opening remarks and lean closer to S'yrra.

"In summary?"

"M'ronn is a proponent of city rights. He supported the redevelopment of the surface being organised through the Council because it was a worldwide endeavour, but he does not feel that laws affecting a single city should be determined here."

"So what does that say about individuals who want to leave a city and not go to another?"

"He has not directly addressed-. Ah."

"Ah?"

"He believes that it should be the exclusive purview of the city's leadership."

"Which would in effect mean that we lose."

"Not necessarily. Pressure could be brought to bear. But it would be a setback."

"Asking for a friend. What would the logical conclusion of his belief structure mean for declarations of war?"

S'yrra blinks. Ah, no, her telepathy momentarily shut down. Martians don't naturally have eyelids.

"Logically? If the justification for war was a condition which only… Only applied to a single city, it would be an affair for that city."

"Interesting thing, politics. Will P'thet be voting his way, or will someone be arguing for the Council to adopt the Neapolitan position?"

"A minimal group size is required for a Speaker to be appointed. Prelate P'thet's particular interpretation of our traditions does not meet the requirement."

"And so J'emm comes off as a statist. And the other… Individual?"

"She openly wishes for the Planetary Council to take authority for dealing with matters external to Mars, and to highly restrict the circumstances in which an individual can leave in much the same way individual Prelates can restrict travel to their citizens now."

Huh. So I actually need that last Speaker to lose. Oh, okay, not need, but that would result in the least work on my part to bring about my preferred outcome.

"Has this sort of debate been going on for a while?"

"Since J'onn J'onzz returned for the first time. Before that it was occasionally discussed, but there was no urgency to it. Even afterwards, there was little contact with Earth. The fact that your world is inhabited wasn't news to us, and no one on Earth wanted to visit. There was nothing that was worth trading. And then you visited us, and it became a good deal more urgent."

"What's Prelate J'emm's position on that?"

"That discussing wider political issues distracts us away from the topic at hand."

"Yeah, but it does sound like something that would make resolving all of the other issues a lot more simple."

"It would delay you."

"As much as I might regard myself as the most important person in the universe, intellectual honesty requires that I acknowledge that other people erroneously believe that of themselves as well."

"… Yes."

"It's really no effort for me to check back in a month-."

The third speaker steps back from their speaking position. There's a brief pause, then the Martian who appears to be overseeing the proceedings gestures to-. The Marshall, who strides into the centre of the room.

"And him?"

"The Marshall distrusts all external influences. And since he's aware of what the Guardians did to our ancestors, he feels that his distrust was always well founded."

"Oh? How does he feel about me?"

"He hasn't said anything yet."

"Right, but he's the highest ranking Manhunter officer and you're Prelate J'emm's aide. I assumed that you'd keep up to date."

"I have. I just don't know what he thinks about you. You aren't the centre of the universe."

"That's what you think."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
21:47 GMT

"'Councillors. I am at your service.'"

"Is it odd that the Marshall is Green rather than Red?"

"Not at all. General patrol duties are.. considered appropriate for Green Martians."

"Right, but he's in a command rank. Xan'Xie had Red Manhunters."

"No, they had Red Honour Guards. Mel'dilo'rn allows Reds to join our Manhunters, but it is more usual for separate units of Reds to protect certain high-value sites. Our society does not bar non-Reds from all positions of authority. Only a few cities take it that far. And now I'm behind. Ah, he's concerned about security threats if we are literally incapable of securing our territory… '…individuals capable of faster than light travel are able to go where they please without prior notification or detection. Despite having been far more sophisticated for most of our history and our physical advantages in nearly every respect, nearly the entirety of in-system defence is left to the humans. Even-.'"

"What's that got to do with Whites?"

"He was asked about Mars security in a general sense. Ah, 'removing existing barriers based on colour would allow for a dramatic expansion of our extra-atmospheric capacity and ameliorate the psychological difficulties which we are known to encounter. Since this would put the population outside the traditional bounds of any city, a change in governance structure would be helpful in preserving clear accountability of the military to the civilian government.'"

"How genuine does he sound?"

"He was only recently told about the actions of the Guardians. It has left him with a strong desire to lash out against anything outside of our society. He seeks to control his own desires through regulation and orders, which is a desirable trait."

I nod as the Marshall returns to the waiting area.

"It is now your turn."

"Are you going to be translating for me?"

"No, they will just speak to you."

"Rightoh." I fly to the spot formerly occupied by the Marshall. "Councillors, I am at your service."

The Red leading the opening questions shifts to a more humanoid shape, though they keep the upper part of their head as-was.

"Please state your name and point of interest."

"I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. My interests are twofold. Firstly, I am an off-world party who wishes to employ a significant number of Martians from a city which does not wish to allow me to do so. Ideally, I'd like this Council to rule that they don't have that authority and.. not grant it to them. Secondly, having uncovered the origin of Martian Neapolitanism and having determined that there's no rational underlying biological basis for the common colour-prejudgements, I have a strong distaste for the ongoing role they play in Martian public life."

"'Strong distaste'?"

"I've had contact with species where different subdivisions of that species have widely different physical traits. There, assigning different rights and responsibilities to each group is entirely rational. However, in the Martian case the only effect that I've been able to isolate is that Reds are slightly more psychologically resilient, and even that can be overcome with training. As such, I have concluded that the basis of Neapolitanism is biased prejudgement, and as such it is immoral."

"Your distaste comes from your moral convictions?"

I shrug. "There are many injustices in the universe. If our planets weren't neighbours and it didn't directly affect a friend of mine, it probably wouldn't bother me as much. Though I've.. sometimes considered that morals are a built-in way of forcing us to consider the long term collective good rather than just the short term personal advantage. The policy of continuing to oppress Whites -as some cities are doing- harms them and doesn't help anyone."

"How well do you understand Martian society?"

"Not all that well. Usually, I'd just have my ring download a database, but it isn't compatible with Martian telepathic data storage devices. And M'gann's rather gone native, so… Only ever really explained it in the broadest terms. The first time I even heard Karmang's name was from a member of the Hyperclan, and I still don't truly understand how your reverence for him has shaped your civilisation. Prelate P'thet mentioned that she considered it appropriate that Reds occupy all positions of authority because all of his acolytes were Red."

I shrug.

"But even one as.. devout as she could not point to a commandment from Karmang that non-Reds be excluded, or any record of his justification for choosing Red acolytes. Without the ability to question Karmang personally, I cannot accept the status quo as correct, even within a Martian framework. And there is still no canonical justification for distinguishing between Greens and Whites."

"And outside of that framework?"

"Karmang's just some dead guy, and I don't really care what he said or did."

The fact that Martians aren't big on facial expressions probably explains why me saying 'Jesus is just some dead guy' to the College of Cardinals doesn't get more of a response. Or maybe not. The very fact that J'emm was as moderate as he was when we first met might indicate that this shift has been a while coming. That's the problem with being an outsider in a situation like this: with the best will in the world you just can't tell why what's happening is happening.

"Thank you, Illustres. You will be recalled presently."

I nod, and drift back to my position out of the limelight as one of the Whites moves forwards.

"Well?"

S'yrra shifts her head into a far closer likeness of the human head. Eyebrows, short hair, eyes with discrete irises and a nose. Once her skin has settled on a form she takes a moment to test its range of movement with the reshaped muscles, take a deep breath in and then lets it out.

"You communicated your point clearly and effectively."

"Not going to say anything about the 'some dead guy' line?"

"We don't expect aliens to share our reverence."

"On that note, I asked P'thet about necromancy."

"Necromancy?"

"Communicating with the dead. If Karmang ended up in some sort of afterlife then it should be possible to reach him. If he reincarnated then we're out of luck."

"Reach..? Speak with… Karmang?"

"Apparently, Mars doesn't have a necromantic tradition. Which seems odd to me, because simple necromancy is among the oldest recorded forms of human magic."

"That-. I have not studied magic enough to know if that is possible for us."

"I can get a necromancer. In Atlantis it's not a heavily restricted field."

"You propose-? I will need to speak with Prelate J'emm about this."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th July 2012
04:21 GMT +3

I watch through the one way glass as one of the latest batch of EDF applicants is interviewed. They're going over his employment history at the moment, the interviewee looking fairly cheerful as he explains his design portfolio to the nodding interviewer.

Lex is sitting next to me, scrolling through the files on the rest. I turn my head his way, raising my eyebrows.

"Has this been a big problem?"

"That depends on your definition of 'big'. The fact is that people are often rather attached to the country of their birth. Even someone with no history with their nation's intelligence service is a risk. And, naturally, I can't tell you what percentage of security risks are getting though our screening, because..."

"Yes."

That's another reason why we're focusing our development efforts on Africa, of course. If your country was a corrupt shit hole before my allies 'arranged things', you're not going to feel all that emotionally attached to the institutions of state. If your country is only held together by external pressure, are you going to spare it a second thought when you get a better offer?

As the developed world's immigration statistics tell you, the answer's a resounding no. Which makes the place perfect for us. Company towns as far as the eye can see. Incorruptible genomorph-supported policing. Good roads. Reliable water supplies. Schools, admittedly focused on supplying the EDF's need but the EDF needs everything. There's a government around somewhere, but we're making a MegaCorp here. I doubt… Ah, what's this place-? Ogaden, that's it. I doubt Ogaden as a notion attracts a great deal of loyalty.

So in twenty years we'll have a huge number of well educated, well trained 'post-nationalist' employees, but for now we're mostly looking for people who don't care all that much about their home country but either care about our mission or are prepared to learn to care about the EDF.

And don't work for their home country's intelligence agency like this git.

"Want me to have a word with the Chinese?"

"No, I think it's best if you don't mention it. Obviously they know that I'm working with you, but I doubt they'll comment on it unless you force the issue. It's better to keep the good will." His eyes flick my way as he smiles. "It's not as if anything you say will make them stop."

I nod, and return my eyes to the interview being conducted with their latest effort. Lex has happily been accepting offers of seconded military personnel from everyone who offers them, but their political masters have swiftly realised that we're not giving them access to design schematics, let alone the more sensitive parts of the EDF's technology catalogue. So they're getting thorough demonstrations on how to use Dr. Metcalf's equipment but without any real idea how to replicate it.

So many things we're not able to patent for fear that someone will do something stupid with the knowledge. Or worse, clever.

"It's starting to get a little difficult to recruit people who aren't from Africa."

I frown, turning to face him.

"Surely there are enough idealists for what you need?"

"There's a very narrow Venn Diagram overlap between people idealistic enough to rise above their patriotism, strong willed enough to resist pressure from their home nations and skilled enough to actually be useful. And we have to make sure that they stay that way."

"Do you want to accelerate the colonisation schedule?"

That would be… Difficult. Life-bearing worlds tend to bear life. Most of the immediately-habitable planets in this Sector already have people on them. Quite a few of the marginal ones as well. We have the technology to build habitats, but what's the point? There isn't much they can do that can't be done far more easily on a planet. The worlds we've tentatively identified as possible expansion targets aren't all that appealing places to live and won't be at any point in the near future. There are a few nicer worlds in the region that no one's using yet, but they're far further away which… Causes its own problems.

"I don't see that we can. Unless one of our colleagues has a way to rapidly terraform an entire planet."

"I don't know of anyone with that capacity. If I could get hold of Swamp Thing and… Somehow talked him into it, he could accelerate the growth of local plant life forms. But terraforming requires that the entire ecosystem develop together."

"I don't suppose he has an equivalent for microbes and insects, does he?"

"Not one I've met. Distant colonisation is far more feasible. We'd have to make a bigger effort to make friends with the neighbours. Probably a good idea to come up with a casus amicus in advance. Want me to take a look?"

"No. I'll take a flotilla and make a good will tour."

"That's.. not really a thing, on other planets. Turning up with warships doesn't exactly shout 'friends'."

"Then I'll have to establish another tradition. Mister Mere, do you have enough?"

The g-goblin nods slowly. I've noticed that the LexCorp g-goblin isn't anything like as expressive as the others. Even the older ones. Not sure why that is; Lex has been making an effort to be more genuinely personable lately, particularly when compared to the way 'old' Lex used to treat aliens. To say nothing of telepaths. Old Lex would have rather given himself root canal chirurgery without anaesthetic than rely on a telepath like this.

"Mercy, tell Mister Keates that he can conclude the interview at his leisure."

A nod and a touch of a computer pad.

"How was… Pony Land?"

I bow my head slightly, smiling as I do so.

"Equestria."

"Gesundheit."

"Thank you. It's a wonderful place. Almost like a children's animated series brought to life. A… Well written one, with the occasional competent adversary-."

"I'm familiar with the type. My media companies produce several."

"Interested in doing a documentary on the other side of the mirror? The videos of Luna are generating a farcical amount of attention, given what else is going on around here."

He pauses, then pushes his datapad aside and gives me his full attention.

"Has your paramour agreed to that?"

"Not yet. Though honestly, I think she'll find the whole process fascinating." Hm. "I may have to remind her that she doesn't need to project her voice so much with modern microphones. She was born in an earlier age and has a very healthy set of 'addressing the troops' lungs."

"That is an interesting idea. And meeting a friendly alien species will serve to encourage people to consider the less militant aspect of interstellar expeditions."

"Could do a series, then. Mars has more or less stabilised, and Tamaran's populated by orange swimsuit models."

He nods. "Mars, yes. But while our ships are perfectly capable of reaching Tamaran, it would be a stretch on our supply lines."

I… Think for a moment.

"How quickly can we put together a long ranged exploration vessel?"

"A dedicated one?" I nod. "I'm sure that Doctor Metcalf has a design. We can't really afford to refit an existing battlecruiser, but we could probably assemble one inside a year. Why?"

"There aren't any heavily fortified obstacles between here and Tamaran. The only outstanding problems are raiders. And no one will expect a dedicated explorer to fight actual warships. So there's no loss of pride if I arrange for the ship to be met at the other end by a friendly fleet."

"And it will serve as a further encouragement to anyone interested in peaceful space travel." He nods. "I agree. I'll draft a request for Doctor Metcalf."

I smile broadly. "I do so like living in the future. Don't you?"

Behind me, Mr. Keates smiles as he shakes hands with the failed Chinese spy and sends him on his way.

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
01:47 GMT

I stand as Queen Kalista and Lord Pren enter the ship's lounge.

"I apologise if now is an inconvenient time. I.. never actually bothered to learn what the standard Vega day cycle was."

We're on board a karnan ship over their recently liberated homeworld, the ship serving as an effective command centre pending the construction of something a little more modern on the ground. Sensibly, they've been prioritising farms, roads and basic manufacturing over war making, which is particularly sensible since they don't have any obvious threats left.

Lord Pren shakes his head as he walks towards me. "Ships keep their own time. While a little notice would have been nice, receiving you isn't a problem."

Kalista sits down on the karnan-scale plush chair behind her, and Pren and I take that as the sign that we should do the same. She… Seems to be in better general health than last time I saw her, but now that my focus isn't being distracted by anything else… Euphorians are near-human in appearance, but unlike the human-but-orange-with-huge-hair Tamaraneans, the differences in her case are subtle and.. off-putting.

"Why have you asked to see us? We have been assuming that if you wanted anything further to do with Vega you would work through Princess Koriand'r or Princess Komand'r."

Her skin is pale pink just off a hue that a Caucasian human could have. Her eyebrows naturally forming an arc which to a human looks like someone drew a weirdly exaggerated line on her forehead. The proportions of her head are a little off as well, her eyes without either pupil or iris and her hair's naturally a dull purple. All together, she looks like she escaped the uncanny valley.

"I was in the area on unrelated business, when I was reminded that the shield around Euphorix is still up."

A quick scan shows me that there are a couple of Euphorian armsmen taking up station just outside of the door, probably more to prevent people walking in on us than in the belief that they'll do any good if I make an attack. I'd guess that they're liberated slaves. If they were just working away from home when the shield went up, there's no obvious reason why they'd leave wherever they were to come here.

Lord Pren tries to maintain a poker face, but I saw the flash of desire when he realised the implication.

"You think that you can breach it?"

"That.. depends. Does it have an arcane component?"

Kalista shakes her head. "No. The planet has protective wards -weak ones- but they play no part in the shield."

"Then I should be able to teleport past it. Do you want me to? Are there any messages you wish me to relay?"

There's a slight… Pren's using telepathy to speak to her while they appear to consider it.

"I do deal with both magic users and telepaths on a regular basis, Lord Pren."

"I-." They actually look at each other before Pren turns back to me. "I suppose I'm just a little surprised at the offer. Why are you making it?"

"I take it that you're not the only telepath on Euphorix?"

"It's… Not a common ability, but no."

I shrug. "It's Colu. The Computer Tyrants are surviving on the networked brains of sixty billion inhabitants. My idea for getting them out involved using telepaths, but I don't have sixty billion telepaths or anything like sixty billion telepaths."

He frowns. "How many do you have?"

"One. I'm negotiating to hire more, but even optimistically there's going to be a big gap between the number of Coluans and the number of telepaths. And… I felt that I should probably make an effort to improve relations after… Last time."

"You want us to agree to supply you with telepaths in exchange for bypassing the shield?"

"I'd.. like you to allow me to offer temporary employment to any Euphorian telepaths who are interested. The work could be dangerous, and I've got no interest in forcing anyone."

Pren relaxes slightly.

"Also… The way I teleport is me-only by default. If you can ward yourself against damage caused by transubstantial travel through elemental realms then you could come with me. Can you?"

He looks at Kalista, who shakes her head.

"How can you travel to such places?"

"It's how power rings work. If a Lantern gets good enough they don't just draw on it, they can actually transubstantiate and travel to where the power comes from. Or.. not 'comes from', exactly, but… In the case of orange, you become one with the desires of everyone and everything who is and has ever been."

They've both sort of frozen.

"So, yes, I can get past the shield, but bringing anyone else requires specialist equipment."

Kalista sits up slightly.

"I've.. only heard that described as.. a possible adverse consequence of certain forms of astral projection. How do you survive that?"

"I'm a sample size of one, but as far as I can tell, by the time you've gotten the ability to do that, you're already so far removed from a normal conceptual framework that it isn't a problem. If you're using a ring rather than the world's magic then you literally can't do it before you're ready. I think. Like I said, sample size one."

She stares at me, and while Lord Pren clearly doesn't have quite the same intensity of reaction, he clearly feels a little out of sorts.

"Messages?"

"Ah, well…" She blinks, looking away to get herself back together. "Just tell Lord Dulak to turn the shield off. It's served its purpose."

"I'm happy to pass on a message to that effect, though I doubt that he'll just take my word for it." I wave my right hand in a circle and generate a holocamera construct. "If you'd like to rephrase?"

Pren shrugs. "I can just tell you how to turn it off."

"You.. could, but quite aside from the fact that I don't particularly want to either fight my way through the Euphorix military or cause planetwide panic when everyone sees the only thing keeping them safe disappears, I also don't want to pick a side in Euphorian politics without knowing a good deal more than I do now. I can pass on whatever messages you have no problem but I'm not volunteering for anything else."

"I am the Queen."

"Again, I don't take a position on the legitimacy of a ruler unless I have a stake in the outcome. I want a peaceful Vega and I've got it now. I can offer to deliver a message because I'm waiting for the government of Mars to finish ruminating on how they're going to rearrange their political system and possibly be a bit less racist from now on. I may also need to-." I frown. "Does Euphorix have necromancers?"

"Yes." Kalista nods. "Not a great many, but the art of speaking to the dead is practised on Euphorix."

"And they can raise the spirits of aliens?"

"I believe so."

"Excellent. I'll talk to one while I'm there." I gesture to the camera with my right hand. "Do you want to work on a script or just ad-lib it?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
02:22 GMT

Euphorix looks like a pretty nice place to live. I'm looking at Aesad -the capital city- and even the most densely populated part could pass for a park on most worlds. I guess this is what splendid isolation gets you. Though I'm… Curious. This is the capital, but I'm not seeing any structures which strike me as being particularly old. Some places do build new capitals to signal the start of a new age, but it's far more common to build the new atop the old. Total disregard for history is extremely unusual.

I've picked up a few open uses of magic, but it appears to be restricted to a small portion of the population. Euphorix is governed like a scaled down version of the Crown Imperium so I wouldn't be astonished to learn that magic education was restricted to the ruling class, but… I suppose it could be a heritable trait, or require a particular ritual to connect people to the local thaumosphere. I can't assume that the magic system here works in exactly the same way as the one on Earth.

Psychic abilities are similarly limited. As far as I can tell, almost the entire population has a really low level of psychic ability, with a tiny proportion having higher levels. As much as I can tell from the way people are dressed, that doesn't appear to be an aristocratic thing.

I glance up.

The colour of the sky is a little off-putting. It's still blue, but the planetary shield is changing the visible wavelengths just enough that it's a weirdly deep blue. All the time. I suppose that.. could be something to do with the weather control system as well; there aren't any clouds at the moment and I suspect that there won't be any until just before a downpour.

Okay, time to get to work. Armour in subspace, fabricate some local clothing… I look enough like the local men that I shouldn't draw enough attention to need a holographic disguise. Queen Kalista was kind enough to provide me with a document seal which should get me past the palace guards. There's no one obvious entry point to the palace grounds, but… If I drop down behind this titanic tree that should conceal me from observers…

And I'm on the ground. The local grass wannabe feels like a sort of spongy cactus underfoot. Scan a local single person vehicle… One of the hover bikes should do. Fairly standard. Fabricate that… And get on, activating the impeller system and heading for the closest road. Not a lot of traffic here, though I'm not sure if that's because of the time of day or… The locals just aren't that interested in moving around. I turn onto the road without difficulty and accelerate towards the palace entrance.

No one challenges me as I approach. There's no fortification; it looks like the road carries on to an underground parking area while the pedestrian entrance leads to something that looks more like a hotel foyer than the more militarised entrances I'm used to on Earth. I suppose that if they're unified internally and locked off externally there isn't anything like as much need for that-

Alert! Spell Eater temperature increasing!

-though that doesn't mean that there aren't passive measures in place.

Since I don't immediately get jumped by Euphorian marines I reduce my speed and turn down into the car park. Nodding approvingly at the clearly marked parking spaces I park my bike and then jog back up the entry ramp to the main entrance. I push on the door… Yes, it's really just a matter of pushing it and walking inside.

A standard pattern humanoid woman manning the desk smiles at me.

"Business at the palace?"

"Courier, ma'am." I take the message packet with the royal seal on it. "Message for the Regent, to be delivered into his hand."

She raises a sceptical eyebrow.

"On paper? Is someone playing a prank?"

"They just give me these things. Look, just check the seal and if the joke's on me then I'll go home and thump the dispatcher."

She snorts, takes the packet and waves the seal over a scanner built into the desk. Then her face falls in shock and she drops it.

"Ma'am?"

"Wouldyoupleasejustwaitrighthere?"

"Sure?"

She rises from her seat and dashes to an adjacent room, the door closing behind her. I give her a moment, then lean over the desk and recover my package. I'm not exactly deeply under cover here; Primus just told me to 'present the seal and request an audience', otherwise I'd have bothered to find out what the official protocol was. My idea is to see if Regent Alonzo tries the tried and tested 'panic, fingers in ears, lash out' stages of megalomaniac grief management or if he accepts the situation and does what Queen Kalista is clearly expecting him to and lower the shield.

The receptionist bustles back in, an unconvincing smile on her face.

"Hiiii."

I do my best to look like a confused courier.

"Ma'am?"

"They'll-. Someone will be down in a moment to show you up. Obviously the Regent works in a secure sector, so they'll need to take you through security."

I nod.

"Okay? Honestly, I was expecting a little more security to get this far."

I try to look harmless as my rings show me guards in the upper levels dashing for the lifts, the ones who aren't flat out diving out of the building and relying on their armour's g-diffuser to allow them to descend in safety.

Oh my. That lift moves fast. Faster than terminal velocity. It's actually quite hard to make them-.

The marines exit the lift in good but quick order, forming what probably isn't supposed to look like a cage around me. At least their weapons are stowed. After taking a moment to assure themselves that nothing is about to explode -and I note that the drop-troopers outside are establishing a perimeter, oh joy- the head of the detail steps closer.

"Courier?"

"Ah, yes? Yes sir?"

"Not yet, but we've got the Graalsun honours list coming up, so nose twitching, huh?" He smiles. "Just gotta do a quick scan, then we can take you up."

"Sure. Go right ahead."

Two troopers with mobile multiphasic scanners approach on either side, and as they work I have my rings falsify the results so that I look like a local. One who isn't wearing power rings. They're done in a few seconds, then step back.

"Okay, no contraband of any kind. I'm… Not seeing you in the system."

I stop smiling quite so much.

"No. You wouldn't, would you?"

Slight intake of breath as he understands what I'm implying, then he half-turns to address the room.

"First squad, back in the lift. Everyone else, you know what to do." He turns back to me. "Please come with me, Mister..?"

"Illustres. Sure. Just…" I take a half-step towards the lift. "Up there?"

"Just up there."

"Wow. I've never met the Regent before." I walk into the lift, the squad falling in around me as the doors hiss closed. "Will he want me to wait for a reply?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
02:27 GMT

Regent Alonzo Dulak steeples his hands on the other side of the desk, which combined with his red clothing/albino physiology colour scheme makes him look so totally evil that I scan for vampirism. No. Do Euphorians see on different wavelengths to humans? Not significantly.

Guess it's cultural, then.

He glances at the opened letter on the desk next to him

"The only thing I don't understand is why -having broken through our shield- you're pretending to be an ignorant courier."

I straighten my stance slightly, prompting my escort to tighten their grips on the weapons slightly. His office is pretty plain, considering he's spent a decade or so as the ruler of all he surveys. There's an oil painting of a group… A young Kalista and a few other people I assume are her immediate family. No Pren, but it could well have been before they met. No pictures of his family, and the stone statue in the corner has been in place long enough to have faded where the ceiling light shines on it.

"Because while I'm obviously not what I appear, no one knows what I am."

"You're biological. More creative than the vat-creatures the psions usually make… No, I can't see them allowing someone this amount of independence. The Crown Imperium, perhaps? I'd be surprised if they had teleportation technology advanced enough to bypass the shield, but it's not impossible."

"May I ask if you've read the letter?"

"Yes. And I have." He moves his hands apart, laying his left flat on the table and drumming the fingers of his right on the letter itself. "Did you?"

"Not the letter, no."

"The Gordanian Empire and the Wombworld have been destroyed, and we are to lower the shield and resume contact with the wider universe. The seal is accurate, the writing matching both Queen Kalista's penmanship and lexicon and the letter is composed as a royal dictum." He moves his left hand, picking up a small scanner and waving it over the letter. "Finger prints and genetic traces from both Queen Kalista and Lord Pren-. Is he still calling himself Primus?"

"Yes."

He shakes his head dismissively. "Nonsense like that is why the late Queen never approved Queen Kalista's marriage. What sort of person starts out on a quest for justice by changing their name? The man's a complete chuuni."

…

Today is a good day.

"I couldn't possibly comment."

I take a data stick containing the rest of their messages -as well as a summary of the situation in the Vega Systems- out of my pocket and-.

And roll my eyes at a guard who was a little ahead of the game and pointed her gun at me the moment I moved, then offer it to her.

"The rest of the messages. To be released or not as you see fit."

Alonzo looks puzzled.

"I doubt that your instructions included 'as you see fit'."

"I offered to convey the letter. I'm not here to make sure that someone with no obvious incentive to remove themselves from office obeys the content."

"I don't appreciate your tone."

"But you do appreciate the content?" He moues and I shrug. "I'd like to employ Euphorians from specialist professions, but it's hardly the end of the universe if I can't."

"What professions are those?"

"At the moment, telepathic specialists. I've got a job to do that requires a great deal of telepathic involvement, and even if my other negotiations go very well I'm going to need more. And I can't get them unless the shield comes down."

"If you want to access the contents of a person's mind, there are far easier ways to do so. I can build…"

I shake my head.

"I need to move sixty billion consciousnesses from a radio telepathic network. Do you have a device that can-?"

"No."

"I'd also like to employ a necromancer."

"We.. have those, but why? They can't operate on a thaumically dead world."

"I know. My homeworld and our immediate neighbour are both thaumically active. We've just never really developed a tradition of sophisticated necromancy."

"It's a minority interest amongst a small segment of our population, but I assure you that those who master the subject are perfectly sophisticated." He looks away, sighing. "No, there's no getting around this. If the fighting is over, I'll have to lower the shield. I'll need a few days to go over the data and come up with a form of words to use to convey what's.. happened to the general population."

I nod politely.

"That's probably sensible."

I can see perfectly well that he didn't want them to return. As far as I can tell he'd rather assumed that they were gone permanently the moment the shield went up, something he regarded as a good thing. As far as I can see he hasn't done a terrible job of running the planet in Kalista's absence, and… How disconnected from the goings on in the rest of Vega are the Euphorians? Will they care about a Queen who left them for a decade, when set against the man who kept them safe and ruled them wisely?

Isn't it great that it's not my problem?

"Would you like to send a message back?"

"Yes, I probably should."

He pulls a sheet of paper out of his desk drawer and picks up a.. fountain pen analogue, then writes a hurried reply. I wait while he finishes, then lowers the pen and waves a device over the paper to dry the ink. Then he folds it and then applies his seal to the join. Lastly, he picks it up and holds it out to me.

"Fine. Deliver this into Queen Kalista's hand."

"Certainly." I lean forwards and take it from him.

"And-." Something occurs to him. "Since the shield will most likely come down in a few days, would you like to speak to one of our necromancers before you leave?"

"No need. Back in a second."

I raise my right hand to my forehead,

head towards Kalista and Pren's shared desire to return home and then

return to the material universe.

"Here." I jab at her with the letter, and she instinctively takes it. "He wants a few days to prepare."

"W-?"

And then it's

back to Euphorix.

"But I would appreciate it if I could speak to one now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th July 2012
21:28 EST

This, this is not something I'm ever gettin' used to.

On Oa. Not 'cause I'm gettin' trained, or gettin' some sorta bullshit health assessment, or gettin' yelled at in person. On Oa, wearin' the cape an' sash that comes with bein' on the Honor Guard… An' the couple a' other Green Lanterns I fly past 're actually lookin' impressed.

It feels good, but it feels weird, too. Don't wanna get all 'self-sabotagy' or nothin', but I'm not sure… I'm not sure how t' deal with it. Random people tellin' me I'm great is nice but it's no big deal. These 're… Other Lanterns. Vets, some of 'em.

I don't think I've earned this yet. Paul said somethin' about not having earned his ring when he got it, and… Yeah. I dunno about Hal, but I don't think I've earned my sash yet. Earned the ring, yeah. But the jury's out on the sash. But I'm here and Hal isn't, so maybe I'm closer than he is.

I wave my right hand through the door sensor, then wait. Not at attention or nothin', but I doubt-. The door opens, and I walk inside. It's… Not as big as I thought it'd be. Yeah, there's a touch a' mad science lab, but there's a whole bunch a' museum pieces… Statues, stuff like that, all around the place like he put 'em down and forgot about 'em.

"Honor Guard Lantern Gardner."

Guardian Appa Ali Apsa smiles. Not a little polite smile, but like he's genuinely pleased to see me. He floats up from his platform desk thing and the mini-lantern in the middle of it and flies over to his little… Highchair thing. He points at the humanoid-size chair opposite.

"Won't you sit down?"

Talkin' to Guardians is… Kinda awkward. Most Lanterns call 'em 'Master', which… I mean, yeah, they're the masters of the Corps, but it always felt kinda weird.

Wish I'd been there when John first heard it.

"Thanks fer takin' the time t'meet me, boss."

I walk-. Ah, pick my way across the room and take the chair. I guess for someone his size who's used t' flyin' around it's pretty easy, but fer a guy my size it's kinda awkward. An' I know Guardians are real busy and he's probably got about a thousand things he needs t' be doin' right now…

"Not at all."

Most Guardians are… Not cold. Not alla them. Ganthet and Sayd are okay. But… Impersonal. Like a doctor or somethin'. Not Appa. He learned some actual people skills sometime in the last million years.

"What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"It's about Mars."

"There's not much I can add to the record you already have. I didn't personally take part. There were more of us-"

He looks away for a moment, which is the kinda humanity the others don't do.

-back then."

"Right. See… I talked with Paul one time… He told me that he knew things about our friends that they didn't know themselves. One of them had a kid he didn't know about, another one accidentally killed someone… When I asked him what I didn't know about me… Turned out someone I really admired was actually about five different people, an' they used t' swap 'em out after the last one died."

He nods.

"Like a child's hamsters."

And then there's stuff like that, where a guy older than mammals remembers stuff about your culture. I barely remember stuff about Californian culture.

"Yeah, kinda like that. I guess after that, and the Ophidian and Vega, I should have thought about it more, but he kinda implied that he knew stuff about the Green Lantern Corps that isn't in the ring database."

"Yes, he's a curious individual, isn't he? Did he mention this before he made contact with our Controller cousins?"

Did he? I don't really remember the details, just that there was some sorta insinuation. Early on, that wasn't what I was payin' attention to. Nah, can't remember.

"Ah..? Think so?"

"Hm. So?"

"So? Is there more? I mean, we let loose that Malvolio guy, an' I'm pretty sure you're gunna send the Honor Guard after him." I shrug. "An… How come I didn't know about him? I'm on the Honor Guard. We're the guys you have t' deal with stuff like that."

"Guy, the Green Lantern Corps has existed for just over three billion Earth years. During that time it has done a huge amount of good. However, on some occasions, mistakes have been made. Or, simply hard decisions taken where there was no good answer to be had. In the case of Larfleeze, we enacted a policy of containment which saw him restricted to an area of space which at the time contained no life."

"My Sector's got some life in it."

"And did Paul do it any harm?"

"Not ex-. No."

"Forcing the issue would have risked making him the enemy of the Corps. If he fought us, I believe that the Corps would have won, eventually, but the damage would have been considerable. And with the Corps unable to fulfil our other commitments and with new recruits trying to protect their Sectors, the damage spreads. As it was, we felt that giving him some room was for the best."

That-. Huh.

"And Malvolio?"

"We allowed him to keep his ring as part of an experiment to see how your species interacted with a power ring. And given how his adopted Sector fell apart without him, I doubt that we'll be rushing to contain him."

"Did I..? Miss some part of the handbook?"

"Hm." Appa folds his hands across his lap. "When I was on Earth, Oliver Queen tried explaining the rules of Ice Hockey to me. I even bought the complete rulebook while I was there."

Still kinda pissed I missed out on showin' a Guardian around.

"Yeah?"

"And yet, nowhere in the rulebook does it mention what a 'smart penalty' is. I doubt that young humans being introduced to the game for the first time are told 'if it looks like the other team are going to score, hit the person with the puck with your stick'. Are they?"

Uh… Canada…

"Doubt it. But-."

"Three billion years, Lantern Gardner. We have made many mistakes in that time. Some of them… Devastating. Krona's was the worst, but there were others not far off. The most common are relatively trivial, when a Lantern misassigns blame for a violent conflict and intervenes on the side of the belligerent party. Thaal Sinestro earned his repudiation but in the grand scheme of things the actions which led to it weren't that great. But taken as a whole, such things represent perhaps a billionth of a percent of the sum total of the Corps' deeds. Did Paul tell you why the Controllers separated from the Guardians in the first place?"

I shake my head.

"Before the Green Lantern Corps, before the Halla, we at first attempted to spread universal law and order through the use of specialised androids. They were called the Manhunters. We Guardians pride ourselves on both our rationality and our selfless service to the wider universe, and we foolishly assumed that one led to the other. That a purely rational species would relate to the universe in the same way that we do, without the need for introducing convoluted value systems. We chose a Space Sector in which to test them before a galaxy-wide implementation and a few hours later they killed nearly every living thing in it. Burned the whole place down to the bedrock."

Shit.

"That was the second worst thing we've ever done, surpassed only by Krona's misdeeds. And afterwards… A little under a third of us left, forming the Controllers. And.. that is why I'm the Guardian I am today. That oversight made it painfully apparent to me that embracing pure cold rationality left holes in our ability to understand the universe. In the way beings other than us think. So-"

He looks around.

"-this. I embrace other cultures, other points of view, because I do not want to ever have anything like that ever happen again because we didn't consider something we should have done. And while we don't advertise that one billionth of one percent, we can't forget it."

He nods at his mini-lantern.

"As a member of the Honor Guard you have access to our unabridged records. A full accounting for everything that has ever gone wrong would take a few years to go through, but I've loaded in a summary. And if you've got any questions, I'll do my best to answer them."

He sighs.

"Though I can't promise that either of us will like all of the answers."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
07:43 GMT

"Tricky."

"But could you do it?"

I glance through the cockpit window and see Adam Blake frown, his eyes a little distant.

"I honestly don't know. I know for sure I could contact that many minds, but I don't know whether or not I could move them."

"No, I.. just meant, 'could you add to the group effort'?"

He nods, his eyes refocusing. "Oh, certainly. It's not often I meet an intelligence I can't outsmart."

"You've met Vran Gozzi, haven't you?"

"She's…" He sighs. "She lacks the.. spark. The passion. She's let herself become a living calculator. I hope that the rest of her species aren't like that."

"I'm.. not sure I understand."

"I'm a man of my time in a lot of ways. Much as I wanted to see the galaxy, I-. Well, I'd like to have someone to share it with."

"I'd have thought that there'd be at least someone on Tamaran-."

He shakes his head. "Oh, I don't mean-. Tamaranean social mores are a good deal more… Permissive, than those I grew up with. But the idea of… Having 'intimate relations' for their own sake doesn't appeal to me." He sighs quietly. "Komand'r did propose to me, but I'm even less interested in marrying a teenager now than I was back when I was a teenager."

"So you're looking for a mature woman with a varied life experience, intelligence in your league and an adventurous spirit?"

He chuckles quietly. "I know, I don't ask for much, do I?"

"Humanoid?"

He raises his left eyebrow. "Preferably? Did you have someone in mind?"

"Mother of Mercy can ramp up her intellect to any level you want, and she's certainly unique."

"I'm sure she's a very nice plant-planet, but when I say I'm not just looking for a 'good time', I don't mean that I'm completely disinterested in a.. physical relationship."

"What a man and his 'plant-planet' get up to in the privacy of their own geosphere is their business."

"I'd prefer humanoid."

"I think.. Hera's still single?"

That gets another eyebrow.

"If I remember my Greek mythology correctly, Hera is married to Zeus."

"Not.. any more. They got divorced last year." I shrug. "He brought it on himself, really. She's thousands of years old, physically humanoid, I don't even know if you can read her mind… Last I heard she was looking for new experiences… You want me to set something up?"

"Ah. How likely is Zeus to take offence at me dating his ex-wife?"

"I'm the one who convinced her to divorce him and he only shot me with lightning once."

"Alright. In that case, yes. Let's give it a-"

We drop out of warp, Colu just ahead of us.

"-try. Huh."

"You can feel them?"

"I can feel… I guess that must be the Computer Tyrants themselves. I've never had.. contact this direct with an AI before. Their thoughts are… Strangely angular. It's like looking at a.. complex.. piece of.. clockwork…"

"Adam, gaze in wonder when you're on the ground and not in charge of a spacecraft."

"I'm perfectly capable of splitting my attention. Exactly how much lightning did Zeus hit you with?"

"I'm not sure. A lot. Enough to fry a human of my dimensions."

"The reason I'm asking is that I'm only tougher than a normal man because of my telekinesis. When I'm asleep, I'm just as vulnerable as anyone else."

"I've never seen Zeus hit a target underground or in space."

"I think I remember Kent Nelson saying something about an ideal wife being one who keeps you on your toes."

"If you like electrocution I have it on good authority that Zeus is bisexual."

"How's about you go and check on the Martians?"

"I'll leave you to it, then."

I come to a relative stop in space as his ship carries on towards the Green Lantern Corps' temporary base of operation, and raise my right hand to my forehead,

appearing

back in the Martian capital next to S'yrra.

"What-"

**Agh!**

"-news?"

S'yrra stares at me-. No, glares at me for a few moments, then shifts into a human form. With clothes, I'm relieved to note; some Martians flying around here haven't quite managed to grasp their significance in human society.

"The Council are deliberating. They will likely be able to give an indication of the direction of travel within a day. Then it will be the longer task of hashing out details. Can you not provide warning before doing that?"

"I could try appearing further away, but that's inefficient. Given that you're from the small portion of your civilisation that is allowed to learn magic, have you considered asking to be taught a basic spell to grant you a prescient warning? Or acquiring an artefact to grant it to you?"

"We're a species of networked telepaths. Martians do not creep up on one another."

"So how have the Hyperclan escaped detection?"

"They have also assassinated Sorcerer Priests, so I assume that they can bypass warning spells. In any case, learning even simple magic would take me away from my other duties for too long to justify it."

"Will the Council require any further testimony from me? Is there anything else I can do to encourage them to decide in our favour?"

She shakes her head. "None of these are precisely original arguments, and you have already shared your thoughts on your meeting with the… 'The Burner'. Unless you can persuade a Guardian to give personal testimony, there is little else you can do."

"I suppose I can ask. Ring, contact Lantern Gardner."

"Compliance."

My ring blinks, then Guy's head appears. He looks a little out of sorts.

"Hey Paul. What's up?"

"Still on Mars. I realise that the answer's probably 'no', but is there any chance that a Guardian would be prepared to give testimony? They don't need to come in person, just communicating via ring would be fine."

He looks away for a moment, then turns back.

"Yeah. I think we can set that up."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
09:58 GMT +2

"Yes, as it happens I am currently single."

Hera seems to have calmed down a good deal since our last meeting. That might be to do with her current job as a Greek television personality affording her respect and social contact while also incentivising a slightly more… Restrained manner.

"Why the sudden interest? Diana told me that you're dating that assassin girl."

"A male heroic mortal of my acquaintance has expressed an interest in seeking a wife. Since he appeared to meet-."

She beams, her joy and incredulity written plainly on her face.

"You're trying to make a match for me?! You cheeky man!"

Several members of the film crew look around at her exclamation, but once they reassure themselves that she's just amused they go back to whatever they were doing.

"It seemed unlikely that Cronus had anyone lined up. For all I know you're temperamentally unsuited to one another."

"Alright." She leans back in her chair, clearly still amused by my impudence. "Who is this hero, and how do.. I meet his requirements?"

"Adam Blake, sixty one years old." I take a hologram projector out of subspace, load it with an image of him and put it on the table in front of her.

She looks him over. "'Sixty one'? Not entirely human then, or does he dye his hair?"

"We're not actually sure if he ages. He left Earth in the seventies, and he only started looking older after being captured and tortured for years. He looks younger now than he did after I freed him, and he might continue to move towards his prime."

"Oh, that's fine. I'd hardly be interested in a youth." I raise my eyebrows. "I wasn't going to marry you. You were going to get a weekend if you were lucky. Marriage is a far more serious matter."

"I am at once insulted and reassured."

She looks at me expectantly. "Well? Go on."

"He told me that he was looking for a mature woman with a varied life experience, intelligence in his league -he is very intelligent- and an adventurous spirit."

"I'll happily match wits with him if he promises to be less boorish than my last husband. However, I'm concerned about what he means by 'adventurous spirit'."

"He gets bored easily and so seeks out new experiences. And I don't mean sexual ones, I mean something new to do. At the moment he's organising the reindustrialisation of a planet ruined by war and occupation, and from what I saw last time I was on Tamaran he's more or less finished the top down part."

"Did they make him their king?"

"No, but he's on excellent terms with their current king."

She frowns. "And does the king have no daughters?"

"He has two, but Adam told me that they're too young and inexperienced for him."

"I certainly have experience. But I rather like where I'm living now."

"Adventure is relative. This is still new for you, isn't it?"

"I suppose. What's your interest in this? He's not related to you."

"Once he's finished on Tamaran, I'd like to tempt him back to Earth-"

"Hah!"

"-to take over our uplift project, since the challenge is a little more complex than what he's experiencing on Tamaran."

Her eyes and grin both widen. "And you want to use me as a lure?!"

"It wouldn't.. hurt. If things worked out. I don't think he's exactly going to rush into anything."

She looks at me a little more seriously. "And you think I am?"

"No. You have no political need for a particular or rapid pairing and a personal one for a life-partner. If I've caught your attention, you'll give it due consideration, and give a direct answer."

"I will. And I'll admit, he does appear to meet my minimum requirements. Very well; I'll meet him. Ask him to set a date at his earliest convenience. I'll pick the restaurant, since he won't know anywhere on Earth."

"Thank you. I will pass that on."

"Does he speak Greek? Ancient or modern."

"Both. He's also a telepath, so it wouldn't matter if he couldn't."

"By magic, or some sort of… Brain-thing."

"Brain thing."

"It won't work on me. Which is probably for the best in a relationship. And speaking of relationships, how are you and the assassin getting on?"

"Well, thank you. I'll-" I push my chair back and rise to my feet. "-pass on the-."

♥"You are sworn to the Olympians and acting within my domain. Speak with me."♥

I sit down in something of a hurry.

"Yes… Ah, Jade's progressing in her chosen career, establishing herself separate from my influence. That's something I've encouraged because the moment she thinks that she's dependent on me is the moment she starts being unhappy."

"Ideally, you'd depend on each other."

"I remember reading a while ago that if-" A man. "-a person earned more than a certain amount per year it was far cheaper to hire cleaners and surrogates and nannies and prostitutes than date or marry." I shrug. "I'm a Lantern. A very good one. I'll never depend on anyone. But there are skills I don't have, so I'm trying to help her achieve things in that direction."

"A pleasant change of pace. I've known kings in your position who were singularly incapable of staying in their marital beds."

"You married one." / "I married one."

She smiles, nodding. "And if you respect her skills in the way my former husband never respected mine, that may well work. But I'm concerned about your distance. You do at least communicate with her regularly?"

"Several times a week, at least when we're both in a position to communicate. I know most of the friends she's made while there, but they're her friends and not our friends. I've planned this, oh Hera."

"You're the most orderly discordian I've ever met. Is that a subversion of expectations… Thing?"

"No. I just recognise the importance of undoing dysfunctional order. Your family works best when regarded as a unified whole. The fact that I'm currently closer to one of you doesn't mean that I've forgotten that."

"Ah. If only we remembered that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
11:08 GMT +3

Natasa nods uncertainly.

"I'm… I.. can raise the shades of any who exist in Lord Hades' halls, which includes the shades of those who are not human. The shade of those housed elsewhere would require negotiations with their God of the Dead."

"What if they don't have one?"

"Then… With the head of their pantheon. Unless they have reincarnated."

"Is there..? If someone-. If a soul is reincarnated, is there a record of where they went? The fact that they were reborn?"

"Lord Hades keeps such records, as do the gods of the Hindus. For other pantheons, I do not know."

"How about if they don't have a religious belief?"

"The.. a-li-ens whom you brought to Lord Hades did not worship him in life. Is that what you meant?"

Unsurprisingly, Ancient Greek doesn't have a word for 'space aliens'. Even in English, 'alien' literally just means 'not from around here'. Alan generally says 'space aliens' when I'd just say 'aliens', but for the Amazons just calling them xénos wouldn't make sense. They call Greeks from the mainland xénos. In fact, that's what they usually use the word for; other nationalities are referred to by their name. The sudden need for a word to refer to people and things from a little further afield than Crete led to the Amazons mugging a leaf out of English's book and stealing a loan word.

"No. When their souls were left on Ater Clementia, just drifting around."

"Yes, that would be easy. Even if they did not want to speak with me, I could certainly identify them."

"Could you tell if they'd died and been reincarnated?"

"If I could find their body. I am… I know the rites, but-" She shakes her head. "-there is little call for them on Themyscira. I do not know that I have the skills you want."

"Would you be willing to try?"

"Yes-. Wait. Where do you wish me to try?"

"Mars."

She frowns. "Ares?" Then she smiles. "Is he dead? Did you and the Princess kill him?"

"No. And not the Roman deity either. The planet."

"Another world?"

"You are.. familiar with the idea that-."

"Yes, I-. Know. I…" She looks around the temple, probably as an excuse to not look at me. "Haven't.. left Themyscira."

"In over three thousand years?"

"In the entire two thousand eight hundred and seventy three years of my life. I was born here."

"The door to New York has been there for-."

"A few more of my sisters have requested initiation into the mysteries of the Cult of Hades, thanks to your efforts at changing the way we are perceived. But with Thana away, I am the senior priestess."

"Given how infrequently Amazons die, and how cheerful Lord Hades is at the moment, I'm pretty sure you could get away for a few hours."

"If I refuse, will you drag me out of the temple to… Fondle in the way you did Thana?"

"Will I need to? DO you want me to? Shoving people out of their ruts is a devotional act for me."

She looks away, clearing her throat.

"That will not be necessary. I will accompany you to.. Mars. Will there..? Be other people around?"

"Um. We can go somewhere without other people if you prefer? Most of the Martians I've met have been fairly nice."

"Perhaps if I could just… View them from a distance?"

I hold out my left hand. "I can manage that."

She regards my hand for a moment, then takes it. Some Amazons like seeing their home from far above. Io adjusted to being away fairly quickly, but while Thana adjusted to her own company as part of the job it looks like Natasa picked a job that didn't involve being around people because that's how she prefers it.

Each to their own. Not like Themyscira is short on… Whatever the medieval version of a shut-in is.

"Ready? " She nods. "Three, t-"

Transition.

"-wo, and we're here."

Natasa looks around at the desolate panorama surrounding us, then tilts her head back to take in the giant telekinetic pillars that are just about the only decoration on this part of the Martian surface.

"So we're looking for the shade of a wizard called 'Karmang'. He's from a very long time ag-"

"I'm on.. another world."

"-o. Yes, I did say."

"Yes." She looks down at the ground. "This land… It even feels dead."

"It is. The locals live underground, aside from a few areas they're replanting. You specified 'isolated', so-."

"I appreciate your consideration. If the spirit of Karmang is willing to speak with me, this will be quick. Otherwise I must simply call… How long ago did he die?"

"He's the founder of modern Martian society. He might even be amongst the first generation of modern Martians."

"And how are modern Martians distinguished from ancient Martians?"

"Ancient Martians spend their entire lives on fire."

"I will.. bear that in mind."

"I could build a small shrine here if that would help?"

"No, Pavlos, alienating the local gods would not make calling one of their own back into the material world easier. Please, simply remain quiet for a time."

Which I.. do. Perhaps it's unfair of me, perhaps a product of the fact that I didn't grow up on Themyscira, but if given the choice between a scholar and a cleric, I'll go with the scholar every time. The Professor of Post-Mortem Communications the Regent introduced me to would probably still be more reliable, but he said that he'd want to study the entire thaumosphere in detail before trying anything. Whereas a Themysciran priestess could try right away with a fair chance of success. The Professor is still my backup option if this doesn't work, but if the Council reaches a decision before the shield goes down then I can't-.

"Pavlos?"

"Got something?"

Natasa frowns thoughtfully at me.

"This may be a strange question, but are you certain that 'Karmang' is amongst the dead?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
08:17 GMT

'I'm pretty sure that of the two of us, I'm not the necromancer'.

That would have been a good comeback. It would have been a dickish thing to say given that she's volunteered to help me, but it's interesting to see that even after everything I can still be too late with a snappy response.

The Martian capital Oll'Sal'us has some surface redevelopment, but the only real external difference between it and the other cities I've visited is that the surface entrances are slightly larger, probably to enable the larger Manhunter ships to enter and exit. One of them passes overhead as we approach, prompting a wave from me and a ducked-head-stare from Natasa.

"You must have seen aircraft before, surely?"

"Not like that. Is she.. here?"

I'm not sure who runs the capital city, but the manual agricultural reclamation appears to be being done almost exclusively by Whites with a few Green… I don't want to say 'overseers'. Line managers? I mean, some of the Greens are doing the same work as the Whites but they're clearly in the minority.

Unless they've all shapeshifted. I suppose. It's not like I could tell.

S'yrra hasn't. The other Red with her has given… This isn't working, themself two extra arms, and the runic charms… Grown? On their clothing indicate that they're the Sorcerer I asked for. The uniformed and armed Manhunters are practically background. I haven't learned Martian body language and their desires aren't focused on anything in particular. They're more job-focused at the moment.

I accelerate us, dropping to the ground just in front of the two Reds. S'yrra is focusing most of her attention on Natasa, who is maintaining a stiff and formal bearing.

"This is.. your necromancer."

Natasa gives her a shallow bow. "I am a priestess of Hades, the God of the Dead of the Hellenes."

"What are Hellenes?"

"The subset of humans from her part of the world. Different religions on Earth have different Gods of the Dead."

The Sorcerer makes.. what I think is a minor warding gesture. Their clothing is partially interfering with my empathic vision and Martian magic appears to only very roughly match up to the particular spells I've learned about on Earth.

"Have you.. tried to speak with Karmang the Good?"

"I have tried, but… I do not believe that he is dead."

The Sorcerer Priest remains completely still.

"Explain."

"Without a link to the living world, shades… Fall into torpor. Which… Makes finding the oldest a simple matter; simply look for the most slumberous. Those who were in life active magic users are easier, those whose great deeds reshaped the world easier still. I have cast around the spirit realms of Mars and I have not found sign of Karmang."

"That is hardly proof. Karmang's knowledge of magic was vast; no doubt there are ways to shield against such spells."

"Yes."

A spectral Red Martian shimmers into existence beside Natasa.

"But my master had no knowledge of them. For all his insight he knew little more than he taught us."

The sorcerer's fingers twitch and flick, arms moving rapidly-. Ah! Creating a runic network through complex ritual gestures! Clever. Humans don't really have the morphology for it, but I've seen Ted's ideas for thaumically active drones that could do something similar. Sand dances in response to the gestures, grey light twinkling around the shade.

"Who were you?"

"I awoke with no name. The one who called himself Karmang named me for the expression on the surface of my mind when he found the cave in which I awoke. Nervous but hopeful."

"Hkronmar." / "H'ronmeer."

The shade makes an affirmative gesture.

"Enunciation changes, even for us. But since it is what you want to know, I have never felt the spirit of my former master lose its material tether. I do not know how he has managed it. He never claimed to have taught us everything that he knew, but death-magic was never my focus either."

The sorcerer's eyes light up.

"I am sharing this meeting with the rest of my order. Master…" They kneel. "The knowledge you could share with us-."

"Is very little. We existed at a strange time with unique challenges, but your research has taken you far further than we could have imagined."

"I apologise for intruding in what I'm sure is a theologically significant moment for you, but-" I gesture to the panting Natasa. "-keeping old shades active isn't easy. Could we move this on to the issue at hand?"

An affirmative gesture from S'yrra. "Yes. Great H'ronmeer, do you know what Karmang the Good's opinion on the different colours of Martians was?"

"Yes, it was a subject that interested him greatly. He strove mightily to understand how a species as protean as ours could have a resting form with particular properties, and what if anything separated the colours."

"I meant, regarding their roles in society."

"Civilisation was still struggling to emerge. There were only eleven of us at Z'onn Z'orr, and it was not until I returned to the caverns that I encountered Green Martians for the first time. Karmang himself gave no commands regarding how we should lead or who should be allowed to occupy what positions. Given that he admitted to ignorance on the subject of colour identity, he would have considered it premature to make a judgement."

"But there were no Green Martians at Z'onn Z'orr."

"Not while I studied there."

"Nor White Martians."

"Not as students, no. But it would hardly have been Z'onn Z'orr without Karmang."

"What..?" The sorcerer ripples. "What do you mean by that?"

"Obviously, that Karmang was White."

Oh.

I… Look around, and see that while not all of the agronomists around us are staring at us, they've all stopped working.

"What?"

"Karmang was White. I was slightly surprised that other Whites existed; I had at first thought that it was only him." The shade turns to Natasa. "I thank you for allowing me to see what Mars has become, but you should not strain yourself so much on my account. Return me to sleep, and wake me again after you have recovered if you have need of me."

Natasa nods gratefully, and the shade evaporates.

"So how's that going to affect discussions?"

S'yrra stares at me, while the sorcerer does the vacant eye glow which indicates heavy telepathic traffic.

"You will get what you want. I'm just not sure what else will happen."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2012
13:32 GMT

The White Martians of Xan'Xie waste no time in taking advantage of the Council's decision. Overloaded civilian bio-transports are already flying out of the city's surface exits, heading towards more liberal cities. Given the size of the population shift they're not going to permanent homes, just temporary residences until such time as the other cities can divvy them up. Over to my right J'emm appears to be regarding the scene impassively, though for all I know he's shouting telepathic greetings at everyone. S'yrra's still in near-human shape and she mostly just looks sad.

The Council wasn't quite willing to flat out override a Prelate on internal law at this stage, but the travel restriction was struck down almost immediately. Where things will be tomorrow, once they've had time to accept that their entire civilisation is built on a bedrock of lies, I don't know. J'emm's stock -and that of the rest of the liberal wing- has shot up, but with his argument 'won' they've still got to decide between federalist and unitarian government structures. I have no idea what his view on that is, and as long as no one's suffering who doesn't want to I don't particularly care.

The Martians on foot are visible now, and the fact that the surface is technically liveable means that they could make the trek on foot if they had to. Fortunately they don't; the cities that have agreed to receive them are sending Manhunter ships and White advocacy groups are sending civilian transports. And I'm here with a L.E.G.I.O.N. transport in the hope that-

"Heehahaha!"

-Mr. B'lanx found some volunteers.

Ring? Yes, that is him, in a humanish shape and having to gasp for breath. He lands unsteadily in front of me and claps his right hand on my pauldron.

"You exceeded my wildest expectations! Karmang was White!"

"So it appears."

"Their entire civil order is in ruins! Is this how you handle everything?!"

"N-."

…

"Not everything. And it's not usually this fast."

"The Hyperclan couldn't destroy them this fast." He backs up slightly, nodding confidently. "I and many of my brethren will join you in the service of L.E.G.I.O.N.."

"You sure? You don't want to oversee things here? The White revolution isn't over yet."

"Yes, I am sure. The shift in the world-mind is undeniable. Even the Reds don't believe their lies any longer, and we all know it." He straightens slightly, then turns back to watch as a small number of Green Martians emerge from the city and float towards the oncoming Manhunter transports. "And the Greens have their eyes opened as well."

"Not all cities are as bad as-."

"I know. But this is the purest form of what happens all across Mars, and even the Greens don't like it. Not when they're confronted with it. I wish to join L.E.G.I.O.N. for the reasons you said: to secure our future by force of arms if necessary, and to build a future by our own efforts. I still want a power ring, but I can earn that by my own efforts if no one is stopping me in the name of a fake idol."

I nod. "Alright, well, if you could lead everyone who feels the same way-."

"In that ship?"

He gestures to the crowd behind him who aren't moving towards the Manhunter ships. It's continuing to grow as more Whites leave the city behind him.

"You'll need something bigger."

"We can do shuttle runs. We'll be sending you to Earth for a little while to get used to alien thoughts before transporting you to Maltus, but our first stop is Colu."

He freezes, his eyes lighting up for a moment. Then he and about two hundred other Martians fly up towards the transport ship.

J'emm walks over to me as they leave.

"I had hoped to talk to him. I wanted him to see in my mind that I truly believe in equality."

"I.. don't.. think he's going to want to talk to Red Martians for a little while. Can I assume that you don't need me in order to keep things going here?"

"You have what you want. And I do too, if not… Not in the manner I wanted."

"Is this a problem for you?"

"Karmang was revered by-. Not all, clearly. But I held him as an example on… How I should live my life."

"What, and you can't do that because he's White? That stuff about colour not determining your life doesn't just apply to Whites, you know. You can take White, Greens… Heck, if you find a Yellow Martian you admire you can try emulating them."

"Perhaps I have a great deal to… Unthink."

"I've got a friend who's going through something similar. If you want to talk to her-."

**Why are you here?**

"Let me deal with that first and then come back to you."

I fly past the White Martians making their way into the ship via the embarkation ramps, searching for-.

Oh. Right.

Even with everything going on, J'emm was kind enough to put the word out and a small group of telepathic specialists agreed to join me in order to help the Coluans. Naturally, being allowed to rise to the top of their fields, they're Red. Well, five out of six are Red, the sixth being Green. Mr. B'lanx's posture suggests that he's less than impressed with their presence.

I land a short distance away. The posture of the specialists is studiously neutral. I doubt that they'll be joining up after this, but… Maybe they'll ask for a trip to Earth.

"Problem?"

"You were hiring Whites."

"And I want you to perform a delicate telepathic transfer. Do you have the training or experience to do that?"

"You told us that we would be taught."

"Yes? And where did you expect me to find someone intimately familiar with the capacities of Martian telepaths?"

"Anywhere else."

"Mr B'lanx, let me be clear. You have accepted my offer of employment. This means that you work for me. Since you're still in the cooling off period and since we're still on Mars, you are free to leave. But if you don't, that means that you will be working with who I tell you to work with, on the tasks to which I assign you."

He glowers with glowing eyes.

"Well?"

"I will… Stay."

**I am no happier about this than you are.** The senior specialist steps forward. **It is difficult enough to teach complete neophytes, worse when lives are at risk. But I will direct you far better than-.**

"I'm sorry, my question wasn't rhetorical. My colleague Henry King has substantial experience with Martian telepathy, and I'm making Adam Blake the project lead. I will be expecting you to defer to them. Again, if you can't agree to those terms you are of course free to leave."

No response, though Mr. B'lanx's posture is less aggressive.

"If there are no takers? Captain, please take us up."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th July 2012
19:12 GMT

"You..? Managing alright there?"

The Martian specialists are trying not to look at Adam as his telekinetic aura flares in a way which.. even I have to admit is uncomfortably reminiscent of a Burning Martian's skin. It's not exactly the same; he's not a shapeshifter and so his skin isn't joining in. I'm not sure why his telekinesis is acting up; this is supposed to be an exercise in mass telepathy. I don't think that 'psychic energy' is a thing -at least not with 'brain thing' telepathy- so there shouldn't be a 'power surge' from this…

Adam's head turns towards me in a slow and.. frankly disturbing way, his aura wavering and sparking. If he starts to monologue about how 'all will be one with me' then I'm pressing the button on my psyshock bomb.

**It's… Incredible. So many minds working in concert. So many viewpoints. Perspectives… Ways of thinking I've never considered before.**

"And the Coluans? Have you been able to free any?"

**Hm? Oh, no.**

"Do you..? Need more time? More… Telepaths, networked?"

The shield around Euphorix will be up for a few more days, but if he needs different styles of telepathy to attack the Computer Tyrants most effectively then keeping everyone here is perfectly manageable from a logistics viewpoint. The Computer Tyrants appear to have preferred living Coluans as region managers rather than robots, and as a result planned their calorie requirements around a somewhat active lifestyle. Keeping their vertical farms going and de-networking their robot workers has been simple enough.

**No, that won't be necessary. Removing the Coluans in the way you suggested wasn't remotely feasible.** Oh. **Fortunately I had more than enough telepathic processing power under my control to just erase the thought engrams of the Computer Tyrants directly.**

"Oh, they're… Gone?"

**I'd be surprised if someone like Vril Dox didn't put a backup of their program somewhere, but they're no longer running on the Coluan organic network.**

"And the Coluans?"

**Still networked. I've sent groups of the Martians to free the first few groups. The Coluans are aware of their situation and we've agreed to a phased release.**

"I'm sure that you've planned things properly. Is there a reason why you're glowing?"

**Huh?**

He looks himself over, suddenly a little more animated.

**Oh. That. I think it's to do with how the parts of my brain responsible for my telepathy and my telekinesis are connected to each other. When I put a lot of effort into something, it triggers a response in the surrounding areas. Give me a moment.**

He closes his eyes, breathes in deeply and then slowly breathes out, his aura fading as he does so. Eyes still closed he lowers himself to the ground, then opens them.

"That was an interesting experience."

"Worth leaving Tamaran for?"

"Of course. A new planet, a new challenge, a new opportunity to help people." He looks over to where the Martian experts are… Rubbing their heads and generally acting like they've just come out of a daze. "Good work, fellas."

**It was…** The Green member of the team appears to recover quickest. I suppose that when you mesh minds with thousands of people, not being a representative of a political class they hate makes it a little easier. **A unique experience.**

"Oh, I… Spoke to Hera."

Adam looks mildly curious. "That was quick."

"She's working as a television presenter in Greece. She's not that hard to get hold of."

"A television… And people don't notice that she's… Not human?"

"If you met a man named Michael, would your first response be to check him for wings?"

"No, I wouldn't, not unless there was something strange about him. She doesn't look..? Unusual? Godly?"

"She looks like a middle aged divorcee who's still got her looks. Gods can't bring their full power with them into the material world. If you want to see her full majesty you'll have to transcend the physical with magic."

"That didn't go too well for Semele."

"Death isn't guaranteed. You'd just need to work on your metaphysical strength first. Learning magic could be a new experience for you."

"It would be an interesting change of pace. So what did she say?"

"She's… More 'curious' than 'interested', but she takes relationships seriously. She said that if you pick a date then she'll pick a location-. Ah, do you actually have any Earth money?"

He chuckles to himself.

"I had a small bank account when I left, so between inflation and being declared legally dead, probably not. But I've got rare metals and alien technology, so I doubt covering the check will be a problem."

"Because I'm perfectly happy to pay you for this job."

"Kinda undermines the heroism, wouldn't you say?"

"Does it for the police and firefighters? Or soldiers?"

"No, but they operate within a system of socially determined rules. I did this because it interests-."

He takes a moment to look at the orange construct hearts rising from the top of my head, evaporating once they get a metre or so away. Being me, these constructs are anatomically-accurate hearts rather than cartoon ones, but Adam is an intelligent man.

"Me. What… Is that?"

"It's unusual, as a non-telepath, to hear my own thoughts coming from someone else's mouth." I dismiss them. "Have you considered trying out for an orange power ring?"

"Non-telepathic mind altering artefacts and telepathy don't mix well."

"Alright; I know someone who could help you monetise any raw materials or technology you bring back really easily, as well as giving you an overview on the state of technology on Earth. I'm sure he'd be able to find you projects that could hold your attention."

"Ah, look. I don't have any problem with homosexuals and I'm sure you're a great guy, but I'm not one."

Ah.

"Ah. Sorry, I was… Clearly being a bit too enthusiastic, there. I have a girlfriend, she's not Canadian." He frowns. "Right, you… Weren't on Earth for-. There's a long-running joke about single men claiming that they have girlfriends in Canada."

"Ah, okay. Why?"

"I don't know. But uplifting the Earth has been a major project of mine, and I'm very enthusiastic about getting you on board."

"I… Suppose that if I'm going to Earth anyway then there's no harm in meeting him."

"Excellent! Now let's go and thank everyone for their help."

 

[Mr Zoat]

14th September 2010
21:23 GMT -5

"How come you're not more pissed off about this?"

Artemis has been fuming since Max's brilliant virtual reality training simulator nearly killed us all. Which is a pretty reasonable thing to be angry about. But really.

"Because I saw it coming."

"What?! You knew-?!"

I shrug. "I've watched Star Trek. And X-Men. I knew perfectly well that a machine like that was going to try and kill anyone who used it."

We're perched on a loading crane on the Gotham docks, patiently waiting for a shipment of cocaine coming in from Columbia. Normally Batman would just pass this sort of information on to the police, but a new syndicate has been getting its hands on high-end plasma weapons and he told us that he's concerned that they wouldn't be able to handle it without massive collateral damage.

"That…" Her head tilts to the right, her eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Star Trek? You know, the science fiction series? With the holograms that keep going wrong and trying to kill the crew?"

She huffs, a little of the tension leaving her frame.

"Seriously? You saw it in some TV show and that's how you knew?"

"It's a reasonable frame of reference."

"And you didn't say anything? To the rest of us, to Batman, to that Lord guy?"

"What do you think I should have said, 'this machine will try and kill us, I saw it on TV'?" She appears to grudgingly accept that. "Besides, that was a good lesson, too."

Her mouth twitches, trying hard not to form a sneer. "How exactly was the Justice League nearly getting us all killed a good lesson?"

"It teaches us to rely on our own skills. That even the best intentioned have bad days and make idiotic decisions sometimes."

"I… Guess…"

"And -objectively speaking- losing us hurts the Earth less than losing League members."

"E-h."

"What? Do you think I'm wrong?"

"I just-. I knew League training would be hard. I just thought they'd be different to-. Ah, better planned." She glances at me to see if I caught that slip. As if anyone wouldn't have. "You know? Not try and kill us."

"If people trying to kill you bothers you, you're in the wrong line of work." No, this isn't a helpful line of discussion. Having her moderate her enthusiasm for the League is only useful up to a point, and I think I've got as far as I can without bringing down her mood too much and creating a negative association. "And speaking of work, I'm thinking of changing my costume. I'd like to know what you think."

She looks mildly unimpressed. "Is that supposed to be an excuse to take your clothes off?"

"No." I frown. "You've seen me switch into costume by ring before."

"Okay." She shrugs, leaning back against the control cabin. "Sure."

I smile. "Thank you."

I raise my left hand, orange light flares and-.

"What's-?" She spots it, and huffs. "Really?"

I grin. "What?"

She thrusts her right hand at my newly exposed midriff. "I thought you said it wasn't an excuse to get naked!?"

"Are you naked?"

She jerks her head away, folding her arms across her breasts. I take a moment to flex and undulate my abdominal muscles.

"And I'm mostly protected by the ring anyway. I've never liked the idea that female superheroes have to go around in skimpy costumes while the men are fully covered, so B'wana Beast and I are going to work towards true sexual equality, where men are not afraid of their own-."

"Okay! Great costume!" She throws up both hands in an exasperated gesture. "Now shut up and change back!"

Her eyes keep dipping uncontrollably to where my pale skin is outlined by the grey stab resistant material of my trousers and Flash Gordon-inspired halter top, pupils and facial capillaries... Yes, good.

"I don't know, I mean I wouldn't want you to feel-."

"If I agree to switch costume tomorrow, will you switch back right now?"

I make a show of considering it for a few moments, flexing my abdominals once more now that she's actually looking. "Oh, alright. If you insist."

Ah, full armour. Too hot for summer without the help of a power ring, but just the thing for the autumn.

"Great. Thanks."

She activates her night vision visor and checks the docks once more. I have a scan, but fail to detect anything of note. Of course, dealing with America's drug problem can't be done by just stopping the occasional shipment; where there is demand supply will follow. If Batman actually wanted us to achieve anything significant he'd send us to Columbia with some sort of bio-engineered super crop. Kill all the paramilitaries and give the farmers something profitable and low-risk to grow.

But I don't actually care about solving the problem, and… I don't have the resources that it would actually take. Turning a few people into constructs isn't going to give me the political control I'd need, I'm not a good enough covert killer to cover my tracks and-.

"What… Is this?"

I try following her line of sight.

"A.. discarded coil of chains..?"

"No. You." She turns back to me. "What you're doing. The flowers-"

Which she liked at first, much as she denied it. And then started finding creepy. Still working on reliably identifying the cut off.

"-and the… Stripping, and-."

"I thought you agreed it wasn't stripping if you were wearing the same-?"

"Fine, not… Stripping. Just-."

"I find you admirable and physically attractive and want to date you. I.. don't.. see what's so hard to understand."

"'Admirable'."

"Sure. I didn't do anything of note with my life until someone dropped a power ring in my lap. And even then, I stuck with other superheroes and mostly did what I was told. You decided to go out there with a bow and arrow on your own recognisance. I admire that 'go get'em' attitude."

She takes a deep breath.

"If I agree to go on a date with you, will you knock if off for a week?"

"Will this date happen within that week?"

"No. The date's what you get if you make it to the end of the week."

"Agreed." I extend my right hand. "Honoured team mate in whom I have no carnal interest at all."

She takes it, shakes it and then goes back to watching the coast. Hm. She's agreed in principle and now she's just arguing over the price. But that's perfectly fine. Now that I don't have to worry about… Anything, getting what I want is just a matter of patience and planning.