8 - Walking on Eggshells
[The last major bit of fallout from _Dragon's Egg_. This is also the longest update yet; it's one long session plus half of a short one. It just flowed better that way.]
Photon stared at the man and said, "Oooookay. And you are?" "Forgive me, I am Sirocco." "All right. I'm Photon and this is Demeter. Do come in." Sirocco nodded graciously to Demeter and soon the three of them were seated. Demeter was still looking shell-shocked by the events of the past day.
Seeing the man face to face, it was clear that Sirocco's mask was made of dark stone, which seemed to shift strangely from time to time. He was a bit short, about five foot seven. Jon asked, "So, Sirocco. Tell us about yourself."
Sirocco put his hand to his chest and declaimed, "I was born to a small family..." Photon rolled his eyes, and Sirocco laughed. "Sorry. I am an earth elemental." [Super term: An "elemental" is a super with powers revolving around a particular substance or force.] "Okay, what can you do with it?"
"I find it easiest to work with sand. I can spray it in several different forms." "Can you produce your own sand, or do you have to have an existing source?" "I can conjure small amounts of it with ease; larger amounts are more taxing." "Please demonstrate." "With pleasure."
Sirocco held out his hand, and sand swirled into being above it, shaping itself into a shifting, trembling sphere. "You'd never guess how much practice it took to get the sphere right. Is there anything I can shoot it at?" "Can you destroy the sand once you're done?" "No, but I can easily sweep it outside." "All right, the wall I guess."
Sirocco flicked a finger, and the sand sprayed itself with great force against the wall. Little or no visible damage was done to the metal wall, but it was clearly not something you'd want to be standing in front of. The sand then hopped off the ground as if drawn to a magnet, and flowed into Sirocco's hand again. This time it concreted itself into little pebbles of sandstone, which hurled themselves against the wall again. This time the wall was a bit dented. "Sorry about that."
"No trouble," Photon assured him, "This base has seen a lot worse. How long have you known of your power?" "Since I was fourteen." "And how old are you now?" Sirocco hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Twenty-one." "All right. What's with the sword?"
Proudly, "I'm a fencer, and quite good. I've hooked up a battery to charge the sword up, too." "Your name wouldn't be Inigo Montoya by any chance?" Sirocco laughed and snapped his fingers. "I chose the wrong codename! That'd be perfect!" "It's not too late to change it." "Alas, copyright. Villains are one thing, but lawyers?" Photon shuddered and said, "Inconceivable!" "You keep using that word! I do not think it means what you think it means!" The two men laughed; Demeter let her head sink into her hand and muttered something about being surrounded by geeks.
Photon resumed the interview. "Okay, so that handles melee, what about guns and so on?" "For that, I do this." He stood up and took a step back. Abruptly he was surrounded by a howling miniature sandstorm about ten feet across. When he let it lapse, he gestured the sand into a neat conical pile; he looked to be a bit out of breath. "Hmm, nice. How long can you keep that up?" "A minute or two." "Long enough. Can you make it bigger?" "Only with a great deal of effort."
Photon mused on that for a time then asked, "Do you have any experience as a hero?" "Yes, I've been doing it for a year or so in Michigan." "Hmmm. Worked with any other heroes?"
"Yes. My first few months I worked with Charm." Jon recognized the name; a hero known for superhuman luck. "Didn't he retire recently?" "Yes, about eight months ago. I... well, I hesitate to use the term 'sidekick', but he showed me the ropes." "I see. Got your own rogue's gallery over there?" Sirocco shook his head. "Not really. I've fought supers three times, but mostly it's been norms. The Great Lakes Guardians cover most super threats." [A well-known, prominent team.] "Have you worked with them?" "Some. Mostly cleanup while they went after the main villains." [He means 'cleanup' of minions. By the way, SP tells me that yes, there are difficulties between the GLG and the Galactic Guardians over the similarity of their names. But the Great Lakes team actually *predates* the national one.]
"Any enemies we should know about?" The man shrugged. "I doubt it. There was one guy I suspect had big ties to organized crime, but he didn't swear undying vengeance or anything." "All right. Anyone else in Michigan I can contact?" "Sure," Sirocco responded, and named a police lieutenant in Detroit.
"What's your registration level?" "First. I was working on getting the equivalent of second in Michigan's state program when I came here." "So what does bring you to Seattle?" "Sidney thought it would be a good idea." "Ah. Are you here to stay?" Sirocco hesitated again, then said, "I'm here for at least a year. Each year after that, there's a chance my job could transfer me again. As I gain seniority, that'll become less likely." Photon nodded, understanding his hesitation; that information narrowed down his profession a fair bit. Sales, perhaps?
"So how long have you been in Seattle?" "About four months." "Done any hero-ing here?" "Not yet, I've been settling into the new job situation. Pondered for a while whether I was needed over here." "Well, I assure you, you are."
Jon started to ask another question, but Demeter piped up. "Hold on. What would it mean to you if I said I don't have a Sidney but I do have a Sally?" Sirocco blinked much the way Photon had the previous night. "You, uh. What? No Sid... What does that even mean?" Photon suppressed a smirk when Demeter folded her arms and sulked. To Sirocco he explained, "She learned a different meaning; we had this same confusion last night." "Ah."
Jon mulled everything over. "Well, Sirocco, I'll want to do a patrol with you to see how things shake out, but for now I think you'll make a good addition to the team." "Sounds good! Thank you." "Oh, do you have any means of transportation?" "Right! I forgot to mention I can fly."
Demeter abruptly cut in again, "Hold on. It takes major effort for you to produce large amounts of sand, but you can use it to fly?! How's that supposed to work?" Jon blinked. He hadn't thought of that. Sirocco responded, "The flight... isn't based on sand." Photon asked a bit sharply, "Any other powers you want to share with us, Sirocco?" "No, I think that's it." "How does the flight work, if not from your sand powers?" "I'd... rather keep that a secret for now, if you don't mind."
Jon was about to mind very distinctly when he recalled he hadn't exactly shared all the details of his own powers either. "All right... for now." "Is there anything else?" "Just our patrol tonight. When is good for you?" "Seven?" "All right. Also, you should know you're walking into a huge media mess. I'm going to try to arrange a press conference for tomorrow afternoon or evening. When could you be there?" Between the three of them, they found that the time between noon and 3:30 was suitable. "I'll try to set it for 1 PM."
Jon stared moodily at the door after Sirocco left and sighed. Demeter asked, "What's wrong?" "It's weird. People used to tell me I was too naive and trusting. But now that I'm leading a team, I find myself getting all paranoid. Really sensitive to anything that could possibly go wrong. This must be what the Phantom felt like."
She pondered that. "Well... If you do anything like as good a job as he did, we'll be in fine shape." "I guess. Thanks. Don't you want to know what I'm feeling paranoid about?" "No, I thought I'd leave that up to you."
Jon sent her a grateful look. "Well... What other super do we know of in town who's a fencer that uses an electrified sword?" She blinked and thought it over. "...Captain Kidd?" "Exactly. Yeah, I know, he's never shown any sign of sand powers." "Doesn't fly, either." "Uh huh. And yet it nags at me. It's exactly the sort of stunt a wanna-be villain like him would pull."
"So what do you want to do about it?" Jon shrugged. "At the moment, nothing. It's only a vague suspicion that probably isn't true. But I don't like having even vague suspicions of people I'm going to be fighting alongside." Demeter teased, "If we see them together, can we assume Sirocco's OK?" Jon replied deadpan, "That would depend on what we see them doing together." She laughed. "Well, if he fights Captain Kidd with us, surely that at least adjusts the probabilities?" "Somewhat. You never can tell. Some villains do all sorts of interesting things with robots."
That reminded Jon of something. "Speaking of which, would you like to do a patrol today with me and Beta?" "Oh... sure. I didn't think you'd want to, since you're going out with Sirocco." "I don't mind. Beta, how's your charge?"
Beta announced from the next room, "78%. I am fully functional." "Come and meet our new teammate, then. We're going on patrol." "Acknowledged." There came the sounds of Beta disengaging himself from his charging station, then he clomped into the room with his characteristic faint mechanical whine.
Demeter's eyes widened - Beta looked a lot bigger in person than in pictures. Though 'only' seven feet tall, the robot was massively built and came across as distinctly looming. His head with its radio transceiver was shaped vaguely like a helmet; his unknown designer had capitalized on that accidental resemblance and crafted his body to resemble stylized plate armor. If you imagined the laser cannon mounted on one arm as a couched lance, you could easily picture him as a knight.
Jon made introductions. "Demeter, X-97 Beta. Beta, Demeter." Demeter ventured, "Um, hello." Beta boomed, "Greetings," and offered nothing else. Jon had noticed before that Beta seemed less personable when not in contact with Alpha... He smoothed things over by saying, "Let's go, shall we?" "What route are we taking?" Beta wanted to know. "Sector A-4, Beta." (Beta needs very precise instructions for where to go on patrol.) "Acknowledged."
They departed, Beta and Photon flying, Demeter carried by a tree. Jon patiently explained to Beta that he was going to demonstrate some tactical options to Demeter, and put the robot through his paces, showing Demeter what sort of terminology Beta was used to. Then he let her take over.
Almost unfortunately, no trouble reared its head, though Beta did announce at one point that a call was being received back at the base, from KOMO News. "Do you wish me to patch it through?" "Not on patrol, no. They can leave a message." "Acknowledged."
When they got back, Jon asked Demeter, "So, you feel you have a handle on things?" "Yes, actually. Thanks." "Not a problem. Get a good night's sleep and be ready for tomorrow." "Will do!"
After she left, Jon listened to the message. Unsurprisingly, they wanted an interview with him and Demeter. Jon sighed. Mike and Alpha had always handled the media; he wasn't 100% sure how to even set up a news conference. Oh well... He called back and told them to be at the base at 1 PM for a major announcement; they jumped on it. He also called both major newspapers, a couple more TV news stations, and a magazine or two. "I guess that'll do it... Too bad Mike used Alpha as his rolodex."
He then left a message urgently requesting an appointment with Mr. Carlton at his earliest convenience, and then continued to read up on Alpha's diagnostic routines until Sirocco showed up. "Ready to go?" "I am!"
Sirocco quickly proved to know how things worked. He asked intelligent questions about potential tactics in case of trouble, which reassured Jon. But he also asked another, less reassuring question: "How much flash do you want to use?" "I beg your pardon?" "When we stop a crime, how much showing off do you want to do?"
Jon frowned. "Just get the job done. Don't waste mental effort on how it looks, pay attention to your surroundings." "Check."
After mulling over the implications of that question, Jon finally asked, "So what were your super-battles like?" They turned out to have been pretty small beer. "Like I said, the Great Lakes Guardians handled the big stuff." "Well, here in Seattle, the buck stops with us. Oh, there are a few independent heroes. But we basically ARE the equivalent of the Great Lakes Guardians."
Sirocco blinked, then grinned. "Cool!" "In some ways. Not so cool in others." "Well, we should be able to handle anything but the really big stuff, right?" "Yeah, but we've had two incidents of 'really big stuff' in the last year alone. The Doctor and Diabolus - surely you heard of those." "A little."
Sirocco pondered, then asked, "There aren't any other teams around? Wasn't there one in Tacoma?" "Wow, you really aren't up on the history around here, are you?" "What do you mean?" "The Freedom Squad got killed off last year by the Doctor. Only one of them survived, and she had to retire." "...Oh." Sirocco was plainly taken aback, and Jon grimly hoped it would be salutary.
I hadn't realized just how different my career has been from that of most new heroes, Jon thought to himself. Sirocco's been doing this as long as I have, maybe a bit longer, but I've had an entirely different caliber of experience. And Demeter - two months into my career I was doing an inside job in a villain organization!
I came into a functioning team of experienced heroes. I've fought world-class foes; I've had media exposure. Good grief, I've worked with the Galactic Guardians! I hadn't ever thought it through, but none of that is at all common.
With a revelatory shock, he realized: No wonder they look to me to lead! They've never been on a team at all! Then, yet a further shock: And no wonder the media don't take me seriously! They normally don't have cause to cover rookie heroes much at all; when they cover me, I stick out like a sore thumb.
The rest of the patrol was quiet, with one exception: Jon prevented an incipient mugging by shining a spotlight on the thugs as they were moving into position while Sirocco hovered opposite him in case things got ugly.
As it happened, they didn't. Sirocco started to swoop down to apprehend the bad guys as they ran off, but Photon stopped him. Sirocco reacted in surprise. "But they're getting away!" "From what? What charges could we bring? They hadn't done anything yet." "They were going to mug that guy!" "I know that and you know that, but what could we prove in court? Especially since neither of us can testify?"
Sirocco backed down, grumbling. Jon nodded to himself. Sirocco's hotheadedness and overconfidence would bear watching.
Reminding the young man of the press conference and seeing him off, Jon zipped home and once again gratefully fell into bed.
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He awoke with butterflies in his stomach. This is gonna be a big day on several fronts, he thought grimly to himself. He called in sick to work, then went to the Shadow-Force base to wait tensely on a phone call.
Sure enough, Mr. Carlton's secretary called him at 8:05 AM. "I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Photon, that Mr. Carlton is on a business trip in Tokyo. He will be back on Thursday, I can get you in then?" Aha, Jon thought, that explains why Hamilton was so smug - he's hoping to present Carlton with a
fait accompli when he gets back. "I'm afraid the matter is urgent. Can I contact him by phone today perhaps?"
"He'll be sleeping at the moment, but I might be able to arrange a call this evening?" "Too late. Where is he staying?" Japan's not far at light-speed... "I'm afraid I am not authorized to share that information with you, Mr. Photon - I'd have to get Mr. Carlton's permission. However, there is a vice-presidents' meeting today at 9:30; I could get you into that if it would help?" "It will have to do, I suppose." "What should I list as your agenda item?" Jon thought for a moment. "Concerns regarding Shadow-Force base and personnel." (He had, of course, chosen the word 'personnel' with malice aforethought.)
Jon's hands shook as he waited. I can't afford to be shy and quiet in this meeting; I can't. Alpha's life may depend on it. He paced around the room to blow off steam, pondering strategy, then sat down and tried to will his heart rate to slow. Good grief, I can fight supervillains without this much trouble! How much worse can a room full of hostile bigshots be? But he knew the answer: I can't fight the bigshots with lasers, only with politics. And politics is their battlefield, not mine.
At 9:20, he told Beta, "Don't let anyone in the base except Demeter until I return." "Acknowledged". Then he took a deep breath and flew into the Carlton offices, and was ushered into an imposing conference room. [SP gave me a hero point for 'walking right into the lair of the enemy'.] There was a tape recorder on the table, but Jon's field sense told him there was a more sophisticated one wired into the room as well. Nobody looked surprised to see him, but they did their best to subtly portray his presence as an imposition all the same. Photon nodded grimly to himself. So it's going to be like that.
Introductions were made; too many names to really keep track of. (Hamilton of Research grinned at him like a shark.) The VP of Operations was chairing the meeting; after calling things to order, he explained a bit patronizingly to Photon that they recorded all their meetings and ostentatiously pressed the Record button on the little machine in front of him on the table. Jon curled his lip; pure showmanship, given that he could sense the hidden system also working.
They took care of some other items of business before getting to him - more putting me in my place, no doubt. Jon took the opportunity to read the room; his anxiety had receded now that he was in the thick of things, giving him only a light edge of urgency. The guy from Financial was on Hamilton's side - no doubt he saw the expenditure on Shadow-Force as giving no tangible return. Mark from Legal had a beef with the two of them, and with Hamilton in particular; that should be very handy. Linda from Public Relations was going out of her way to show sympathy to Photon; no surprise there. The chairman resented Photon's presence and was impartially annoyed with everyone responsible for it. The other four people in the room just wanted to get this over with.
Finally the chairman said, "Now, I believe you had some business to discuss, Mr. Photon?" Jon cleared his throat. "Yes. There are two issues. First, I am told that the decommissioning of the base has been put on an accelerated schedule due to the super-battle Saturday night, and that some Carlton property needs to be removed earlier than previously projected. Naturally, I have no objection to Carlton recovering its own property. But I am wondering if the list of property includes a certain supercomputer."
Hamilton grinned at him toothily again and informed him in a long, precise, bureaucratic speech that the list was being prepared and that he'd be glad to take up any concerns Photon might have with it once it was ready. (No doubt after this meeting was over, but before Mr. Carlton returned.) Jon nodded graciously. "Thank you, that is all I needed to know."
The chair asked, "And your second item of business?" Photon replied, "As a result of the accelerated decommissioning schedule, the power in the base has been turned off. One of our teammates was injured in the battle, and we need the power turned back on to help him."
The VP's looked at each other; they hadn't been expecting that. The chairman said, "I had thought that Technoid had been... removed from the premises?" "Yes, of course. I'm not referring to him." Legal said, "Then you must mean X-97 Beta?" Hamilton frowned and held up a hand. "Hold on, my reports say the robot wasn't involved in the battle."
Jon said smoothly, "Not directly, no, though he was hacked by Technoid. We do need the power on for him too, to keep him charged, but he's also not the teammate I meant."
Confusion at first. The chair was about to ask him just who he did mean when Jon saw comprehension suddenly dawn on the Legal VP's face, while Hamilton turned red as a beet. He shot to his feet and shouted, "Total idiocy! Do you honestly expect us to believe that a supercomputer..." Jon cut him off ruthlessly. "This is a matter of Shadow-Force team security. I request that the recording be turned off."
Pandemonium. Hamilton called him every name in the book, and Financial looked ready to sharpen a knife himself. Mark from Legal studied the two of them with a faintly calculating expression; meanwhile the chair gaveled Hamilton down. "Roger, you're making a fool of yourself. Sit down." Hamilton did so, trembling with rage. Jon noted, surprised, that this was deeply personal for the man, not just politics; his rant had made clear that he was enraged at the mere suggestion that Alpha could be a sapient being. The chair cleared his throat and said, "I think we'll take a fifteen minute recess to discuss this development, unless there are any objections?" There were none.
Linda from PR approached Jon and said, "If you'd like to come to the cafeteria, Mr. Photon, we'd be glad to get you a cup of coffee. We also have a very nice selection of teas if you prefer." "I'd love to." He selected an herbal tea; while he was being cooler under pressure than he had feared, he didn't want to risk any caffeine at this juncture. Once he was ensconced at a table with it, he was completely unsurprised when Linda said quietly to him, "I'm on your side in this, Photon." "Thank you." "A legal battle on this issue would be disastrous for the company." "Not to mention the verdict of the court of popular opinion." She winced. "Yes, I'm well aware of which way popular opinion would swing."
Jon pondered for a moment, then asked, "Can you tell me what's driving this? Is it intellectual, financial, or political?" She shrugged helplessly. "Any or all of the above, depending on who you're talking about." "All right, thank you." "I'll back your play however I can."
Back in the conference room, the chair brought the meeting to order again and announced, "A decision has been reached to end the recording at the request of Photon of Shadow-Force." He turned the little recorder off, and also did something surreptitiously under the table; Jon sensed the other system powering down as well. "Now, Mr. Photon, I think we need to be explicitly clear. Which team member are you referring to?"
"X-97 Alpha." "The base's supercomputer." "That is correct." Hamilton restrained his fury and cut in scornfully, "So you claim that this...
computer is an actual member of Shadow-Force?"
Jon said with quiet dignity, "No. I do not claim that." He paused just long enough for everyone to stare at him in confusion, then stated, "I positively
assert it. He WAS a team member long before I was, without any question, and he remains one to this day. His vote in team meetings has always been treated as equal to anyone else's."
Hamilton pointed out triumphantly, "But if this is true, why the secrecy? Why hasn't its contribution been publicly recognized?" "We kept him secret because we could. He's a valuable asset, but he isn't out in the field." "And we're supposed to just take your word on this, I suppose?"
"No. Bazooka and Brimstone will tell you the same. What's more, Alpha has worked with other heroes as an equal. Most recently the Texas Hex - ask him." Jon could feel the tide in the room starting to shift; Hamilton felt it too, and blustered, "We don't exactly have a phone number for them..." "I can contact Bazooka and Brimstone. As for the Texas Hex, he's a member in good standing of the Texas Legends, who do in fact have a public telephone number."
Hamilton started to say something cutting, but the chair held up a hand. "We'll stipulate that the Texas Hex can be contacted. But regardless, Mr. Photon, how can a computer be a person? There's no legal precedent, is there?"
Everyone looked at Mark from Legal, who said, "There is no body of legal opinion on the subject of artificial intelligence at all; it's a lively issue among constitutional legal scholars. It is my considered opinion that any case hinging on the personhood of an alleged artificial intelligence would end up before the Supreme Court." Hamilton rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous! Do you mean to say that I'm going to have to emancipate my laptop?!"
Jon cut in, "How many laptops get paid a salary?" When everyone stared at him again, he pointed out, "X-97 Alpha is an employee of Carlton Industries." Pandemonium all over again; it took everyone by storm. The chair gaveled the meeting to order again. "Okay, Mark, what the hell?! Human Resources is your bailiwick."
The Legal VP was fully engaged now. He studied Photon carefully, measuring him up. "The contract was signed 'X-97' by the robot known as 'X-97 Beta'. Are you saying he wasn't signing on his own behalf?" "'X-97' is a collective term for the two of them. You could think of it as a surname." Hamilton cried out triumphantly, "Aha! Fraud!" Jon shot back, "Did you get a Social Security number? Are you saying that Carlton Industries hires undocumented workers?" Several people around the room winced; Jon could tell that he was winning the argument, though gaining no friends in the process. Screw it, he thought, this isn't a social call.
Hamilton shouted, "I still say the whole thing's a fraud!" Mark said crisply, "It's not that simple. It's possible to grant temporary power of attorney to sign documents if one is unable to sign oneself - due to a hand injury, for example." "You have got to be kidding me! You buy this..." The chair said wearily, "Roger, sit down. Look. Are you putting this robot Beta on the list too?"
Hamilton said cagily, "Well... We've been looking into the matter." "On what legal basis?" Jon wanted to know. "Even apart from issues of personhood, neither Alpha nor Beta were created by Carlton Industries, nor have they been bought by the company."
Mark explained, "The contract with Shadow-Force stipulates that any improvements to the base remain the property of Carlton." "Ah. It's just that nobody involved with Shadow-Force, including Mr. Carlton, has ever seen Alpha as just an 'improvement'." "So it would seem." Mark pondered a while, then continued, "Given that X-97 Beta is an openly recognized member of the Super community, I cannot recommend taking any action in his regard. In fact, I urge in the strongest terms against it unless Mr. Carlton is fully apprised of the ramifications."
The chair said, "OK, in that case I move we table discussion of the robot until Mr. Carlton returns. All in favor?" The motion carried unanimously except for Hamilton's vote. "Now, the computer. Anyone else have anything to add?"
Linda from PR said, "Yes, I do." She had a couple charts ready. "As you can see, corporations that sponor superhero teams experience a consistent rise of 10 to 15% in revenues. But in those few cases where corporations have been seen by the public as reneging on their agreements with super teams, their sales have fallen by 20 to 30%. Boycott campaigns have been organized, and the media don't let it go. It's this simple: It doesn't matter whether the courts eventually say we were right or wrong. If this goes public, we will take a major hit. We'd do our best to spin it, of course, but I'm telling you right now that it's a hopeless cause."
The Financial VP sat back in his chair, eyes wide. Evidently he was seeing the whole thing in a new light. Jon stopped himself from smiling; things were nearly sewn up. One of the VP's who hadn't yet spoken up (Jon couldn't recall his department) asked, "So what ARE our chances in the courts, Mark? Lay it on the line for us."
The lawyer pondered for a time. "The issue of personhood is wide open - there is just no telling what direction the Supreme Court would go. Setting that aside, I have become convinced that our position is... uncertain." After some more thought, he said, "I categorically oppose taking any action until Mr. Carlton returns and is fully informed of the possible fallout. And while I will study the matter further, my recommendation to him at this point is going to be not to pursue action with regard to X-97 Alpha."
Hamilton locked eyes with Photon. He had sufficient self-possession not to lose his cool now that it was clear he had lost, but the hatred in his face was plain to see. The motion to table the matter carried, but it was just a formality by that point. Jon ignored the vibes coming off Hamilton and said, "I propose that the power be turned back on and the decommissioning be restored to its previous schedule."
There followed some discussion, cavilling, and nuancing. Hamilton did his best to gum up the works out of pure spite by pointing out the radiation issues once again; Jon offered sweetly to clean it up with his own powers. But when the guy from Maintenance expressed a desire to make sure of a variety of other potential hazards in the base, Photon graciously backed down. They need to save face, he thought, and I can afford to be magnanimous in victory.
In the end, the decontamination was retained at the accelerated rate, but the rest of the decommissioning process was restored to its original pace. The Finance VP feebly tried to protest the expense of keeping the power on until Maintenance pointed out that the alternative was to haul in thousands of pounds of generators to do the decontamination, then haul them back out again. In the end, it was agreed to turn it back on, with the request that Photon keep all nonessential equipment and unused areas of the base turned off. Jon agreed to that readily as well.
With that, the meeting adjourned. Linda warmly wished Photon the best of luck with his press conference that afternoon - doing so in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. (Evidently she'd heard about it through the grapevine.) Jon replied, "Thank you. I'll be sure to mention how helpful Dr. Norton and the other scientists from the Research division were." He'd intended it as a sop to Hamilton's ego, but his heart sank when the man glared at him with redoubled fury. Apparently Norton was a significant rival.
Leaving the lion's den, Jon paused to catch his breath. He could feel adrenaline catch up to him almost as if he'd just been in a battle. I was, he thought; a battle for my friend's life and freedom. [This 'battle' did require two hero points to pull off - one to reroll Sense Motive, and another to reroll Diplomacy.] He enjoyed a nice peaceful flight above the rainclouds toward Struthers' office at Seattle PD headquarters.
Taking a seat, he said, "Captain. You wanted to see me today?" "Yes, we've still got some loose ends regarding the whole Technoid situation." After discussing the details of the fight and filling out a few more inevitable forms, Struthers leaned back and said mock-cheerfully, "So! When were you planning to let me know about this little press conference of yours?"
Photon blinked. "Er. Now? I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't know I was supposed to inform you earlier. I'm still very new to the whole media thing." "So I hear. In the future, a courtesy call would be... greatly appreciated." "I'll definitely do that. Who should I tell? You weren't on duty yesterday." "Whoever's covering for me can handle it."
"All right. You should also know that I've got two new teammates: Demeter and Sirocco." "Sirocco, that rings a faint bell." "He's from Michigan. Actually, he gave me a reference of a police lieutenant over there." "Easy enough to track down - lay it on me." Jon did so, and after a little searching in a police database, Struthers said, "Damn. Killed in the line of duty two months ago." "He's been in Seattle four months. I guess he wouldn't have heard?" "Probably not. All the same, dig a little more." "I will."
After answering some more questions about Seattle's two newest heroes, Jon paused then asked, "Out of curiosity, when do you get off duty today?" Struthers replied drily, "I'm happily married, thanks." Jon's jaw dropped. "WHAT?!" The older man grinned a little mischievously. "Serves you right for not telling me about the conference. What's up?"
Jon collected his wits. "Well... you mentioned the possibility of a 'six-beer conversation'. I have a feeling before this day's over, I'm going to need one." "I hear that, but I'll have to take a rain check. Tonight's taken." "Ah well."
Returning to the base, Jon found two messages waiting for him: One from the mayor of Tacoma's office (huh?) and one from Mr. Carlton.
Jon braced himself, and called Mr. Carlton back. Sure enough, he sounded grumpy and tired. "All right, Photon. Just what did you DO?!" "What have you heard?" "No less than five conflicting reports, none of which makes a lick of sense. I gather that my company is still standing?" "It was the last time I checked." "That's something. What happened?"
"Technoid turned on us and we had a big fight in the base. Your man Hamilton in Research used this as a pretext to close the base down early and try to seize Alpha as 'Carlton property'." Carlton growled, "I never ordered or authorized any such damfool thing." "I knew that, sir, of course. I went in to the VP meeting this morning and... dissuaded them from any such action." "What sort of dissuasion did you use?" "I informed them that Alpha was a member of the team, and also on the Carlton payroll."
"There had to be more to it than that. What didn't you say?" "I very loudly didn't say that the courts would find their actions intriguing, and that the general public would be intrigued to the point of breaking out the torches and pitchforks." "While simultaneously putting away their pocketbooks, no doubt! Well... I'm not happy, but I see why you did it. I will take steps to make sure this never happens again." The word 'never' was said with the finality of doom; Jon could not doubt him, and almost felt sorry for Hamilton. Almost.
"Thank you, Mr. Carlton." "I have cut my trip short. I'll be back tomorrow, and human again the next day. Please make an appointment for Wednesday and we will address any further loose ends." "I will do that."
Returning the Tacoma call, an eager mayoral staffer asked - nay, pleaded with - him to appear at an event on Friday afternoon. "What sort of event?" "Please keep it quiet, but...The announcement of the third American Eagle!" Jon beamed sunnily, only barely noticing that he was shining rays of light around the room. "That's fantastic! I'll gladly come."
"Great! We're hoping to get as many people who worked with the Freedom Squad as possible - can X-97 make it?" "I don't see why not. And I can ask Bazooka and Brimstone as well, though I don't know if they'll be able to come." "Would you? That would be excellent! We're hoping to get Victrix in as well." Jon sighed to himself; his last memory of Victrix was as a broken shell of her formerly vibrant self. "How... is she doing?" "Ah... better, from what I'm told. We think she'll come." "I'm glad to hear that."
The staffer hesitated, then asked, "I guess we should ask you, you don't have a problem with the new American Eagle being a woman, do you?" Jon blinked. "No, not at all, why would I? If she can do the job, I couldn't care less what her gender is." "Good to know!" "How much experience does she have?" "She's the old hero's niece. I understand he trained her some before he, uh, passed away." You mean before he was murdered, Jon didn't say. "I'm glad she's not coming into it completely cold."
After hanging up, Jon just glowed for a time, both literally and figuratively. The nucleus of a new Freedom Squad to match the renewed Shadow-Force? Now THAT is some good news!
He still felt buoyed up when Demeter and Sirocco arrived, and the news teams began setting up for the conference. He filled his teammates in quickly on the situation and game plan.
At 1 PM sharp, Photon stepped up to an array of microphones set up in front of the base, his heart inevitably pounding like a hammer. After the preliminary stuff, he cut to the chase: "Shortly after the dissolution of Shadow-Force, my teammate Technoid placed himself in an experimental apparatus of his own design. He remained in a hibernation-like state for weeks while unknown changes took place; we did not know enough to interfere with the process. Two nights ago, on Saturday, the apparatus exploded. With me at the time studying the device were FAQ of the Portland Protectors and a team of scientists from Carlton Industries led by Dr. Andrew Norton. As well as a new applicant to the team, Demeter."
Photon paused; the audience was rapt in attention - it gave him a heady sensation of power that he resolutely held at arm's length. He continued, "Technoid emerged, seemingly deranged and definitely physically altered. When he attacked us, we defended ourselves. It became clear that he was a continuing danger to himself and everyone around him. With heavy hearts, then, we defeated him and turned him over to the Stronghold Superhuman Incarceration Facility."
A Babel of questions ensued, as he had expected. He clarified Technoid's full goals as little as he possibly could, and doled out information about the changes to Scott's physical form by the teaspoonful. In all, he tried his best to give the impression (without actually saying so) that the explosion had been an accident, and not Scott's intent... Let them remember him as a hero who was tragically injured, he thought. Not as a madman who put his city at risk for his own ends.
An unusually acute question about the size of the explosion caught Jon off guard. (He hadn't let slip any details of what the 'apparatus' was really like.) Not willing to lie outright and unable to think of a weaselly way to non-answer in time, Jon admitted, "It was large enough to do significant damage to the city. Thankfully, with FAQ's advice, I was able to contain the explosion with my powers."
Eventually, Jon found space to drop the other shoe. "I am pleased to announce that I have added two new teammates to our roster: Demeter and Sirocco." Introducing them to the community, he let them take their turns in the hotseat. Demeter proved to be something of a natural, handling the reporters with more ease after the first shock than Jon had feared. (It certainly didn't hurt that she was very telegenic!) Sirocco also acquitted himself decently; he had clearly had a little experience with the press.
Eventually things wound down. The three heroes commisserated with each other in the Situation Room, then plotted out a quick interim patrol plan for the rest of the week, and a team meeting to thrash things out in more lasting fashion on Saturday.
Jon ran a few errands he'd been letting slip in the craziness of the last few days. He called Hei and left her a message apologizing for not being in touch. Then, after pondering an obstacle in his research to get his mind off of super-stuff, he finally went to bed.
----------------------
Jon's alarm woke him earlier than usual: He had a vital matter to attend to.
Flying into the base, he checked the diagnostic results for Alpha. Cross-referencing with the manual, he discovered that Alpha's memory files for the last week had been seriously corrupted. His options were to restore to a month-old backup or to scan back a further week to see how extensive the corruption was. He gave commands to implement the latter, and was informed the scan would take another six hours. Jon sighed. More waiting.
Going in to work, Jon did his best to play catch up. There was a message on his office phone from Karen, urgently requesting a lunch date for yesterday; she sounded really stressed. Stopping by her office, he found her still stressed but also harried. "I'm swamped today, Jon; how about tomorrow?" "You're on."
Dev also stopped by to see how he was doing. With his usual infectious enthusiasm, he shared, "The 28-dimensional polytopes are classified to my preliminary satisfaction, so I have moved on to a new project! Set theory, this time." "A little out of your line - mathematical theology again?" "No, no - how do you say? The Hound of Heaven has slipped my snare. Something much more suited to a little mind like mine: I think I have a new line on Cantor's Continuum Hypothesis."
Jon laughed. "Oh, is that all? It's only one of the greatest outstanding set-theoretical questions of the last century." "Piffle! Why do I listen to you and all of your negativity? I ask you." "Because I'm brilliant, handsome, and fun to be around? Oh, and because physicists are smarter than mathematicians?" Dev returned archly, "How brilliant can you be when you say such stupid things, yes? I ask this of you, Mr. Smarty-Shorts Physicist." "Pants, Dev." "Oh?" "Yes, it's 'smarty-pants'." "So you are handsome, fun to be around, and interested in my pants? This is too much information, Dr. Winters!"
Jon spluttered and laughed. "Two more points for you, Dr. Singh Dolma." "Yes, yes. I add them to my collection with joy." "I really am interested in your Continuum idea." Serenely, "Of course you are. You do not believe in continua, so you can afford to be interested. I do believe in them, and so I am in love."
That final crack stuck with Jon. The whole point of Loop Quantum Gravity was that spacetime was not, at the smallest level, a continuum. (Though he occasionally still used the term out of habit.) It was a fabric of ever-shifting loops. Not for the first time, he wondered if the shifting was purposeful instead of random; if the sensation he got from his powers of interacting with something alive was real. But how could you even touch such a thing mathematically...? It definitely kept him occupied him until lunch. [Theoretical research: Getting paid for daydreaming and writing it down!
]
[The fact that SP has a degree in math and I have degrees in chemistry and physics makes conversations like this much easier.
I've *met* people like Dev, scarily and fascinatingly enough. He, Karen, Gerhard, and Hu are all based (extremely) loosely on people I knew in grad school. Though the (distant) prototypes of Dev and Karen were actually MARRIED to each other! The mind boggles.]
Eating quickly and zipping back to the base, he found that the scan had been successful and that the week-old memory file checked out. At last! He sent the commands to restore back to the older file, and then:
Code:
> wake -s -R
.....................................Done.
> enable -terminal plaintext
Hello world?
> "Hello, my friend. Welcome back."
[P.S. I would like to solicit suggestions for a new team name. 'Shadow-Force' just doesn't fit this group any more, and both Jon and I feel there needs to be a clean break with the past. However, I am just plain tapped for a name; I haven't been able to think of anything.]
