csyphrett

Maria Dominguez grew up amidst the corruption of Brazil where militias and criminals fought in the streets for control. Gifted with quick reflexes and the ability to create knives, Maria was trained to use her abilities to their fullest. She has returned to Rio to do what she can to help the people caught between the warring factions. CES

A news ticker i saw said Venezuela was dropped from their trading alliance for not being democratic enough CES

Showdown in a Small Town 1969- Part Two Marty skulked at the corner of a hardware store. He didn’t see anyone on the street. His bird reported people sitting still in the diner. They weren’t doing anything else to show they were alive. What was going on? “How do you guys want to handle this?,” he asked into the radio built into his helmet. “I don’t like it.” Doug was across the street. He used a column for partial cover. “Where are the rest of the people?” “One of us should try to talk to the people.” Daryl was on the roof of the local hotel across from the diner. “I’ll do it. If it is a trap, I should be okay.” Doug didn’t like that. Cortez had come up with weapons to handle their powers. The diner could be one big trap designed to kill them. They also didn’t have any move where they didn’t try to talk to the people in the diner. They were victims and hostages, or they were in with whatever Cortez had done. Someone had to talk to them. And Daryl was the most invulnerable of them. “Go ahead.” Doug didn’t like it, but it had to be done. “Marty, get ready to pull something out of your hat if we have to get out of here.” Marty nodded. He already had an elephant ready to call. Something came after him, he was riding out on Jumbo. Daryl jumped from the roof of the hotel. She hit the street and bounced to the roof of the diner. She flattened out to keep from bouncing off the building. She dropped down and swung in the door. Doug scanned the street. He didn’t see anyone rushing to the attack. The diner wasn’t turning into some death trap. What was he missing? Where were the danger signs he expected from a villain like Emmanuel Cortez? Where were the robots, and death rays? What was going on? “How’s everybody?” Daryl’s mike sent her words to the others. “What’s going on?” “You got to get out of here.” One of the diners waved a hand. “There’s something under the town. We don’t know what it is, but this thing showed up and left it there.” “Don’t worry.” Daryl tried to smile. “We’ll think of something. Is that why you’re all here in the diner?” “Yes.” A waitress spoke up. “We were warned if we tried to leave, the town would be attacked and wiped out.” “Buildings can be replaced.” Daryl looked around. There were a lot of people in the dining room. “The question is how to get all of you out of here without letting any of you get hurt?” “I don’t think you can.” One of the farmer looking customers glared at her. “That talking cat made it clear that if we try, most of us will be killed.” “You can’t sit here for the rest of your lives.” Daryl frowned at them. “Eventually you’ll have to do something. Otherwise you’re going to die anyway.” “What do you want to do?” The old farmer bristled his eyebrows and mustache. “We have a plane down the road.” Daryl thought about it. She didn’t really plan things. “I can go get it, and fly you out of here while the monster is looking for you.” “What happens if the monster doesn’t want you to load us up?,” asked another customer. “My friends will punch it.” Daryl smiled. “They are great at taking care of monsters. You can believe that.” “So we’re going with this stupid scheme?” The one customer, a woman with too much weight, too much bleach, and not enough teeth stood. “This will get us killed.” “You’re going to die either way.” Daryl shrugged. “My way gives you a chance. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life trapped in a room will all these people, do you?” “Heck, no.” The farmer looked around the room. “What do you want to do?” “My partners are outside.” Daryl threw a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to get the jet and then I’m going to bring it into town. I’ll load you guys up and fly you to safety. If the monster attacks, they’ll fight it off.” “All right.” The farmer looked at the crowd. “How long do you think that will take?” “It’ll take me a couple of minutes to get back to the jet, and power it up, then a couple of minutes to fly back here to figure out how we’re going to do things.” Daryl smiled. “Let’s say twenty minutes. If anything happens, jump into whatever car you got and head off into different directions. It won’t be able to get all of you if you do that.” “What happens if we do that?” The farmer looked at a truck pulled up to the curb. “My partners will try to provide a distraction.” Daryl wondered how big a monster they were talking about. What had Cortez made this time? “Just split up as much as possible. If we can’t hold it, we don’t want it able to pick you off because all of you headed in the same direction.” “Got it, lady.” The farmer went to the door. He looked outside. “Go do you what you got to do. We’ll be ready to move when you get back.” “Keep an eye out.” Daryl opened the door. “If the monster is triggered by someone leaving, get ready to run.” Daryl stepped out on the sidewalk. She looked down the street, before walking to the crosswalk. Nothing moved. The people in the diner looked out at her. The farmer nodded. She headed for the jet, bouncing along for speed. She hoped that she had came up with a scheme that would get the people out of the way. Cortez didn’t mind killing bystanders. She reached the jet. She took a moment to check the locks before opening it up. She climbed inside and bounced to the cockpit. She settled in her seat and went through the checklist. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake where she got the townspeople killed because they overlooked something. At least Doug agreed with her. He had his eyes on the town. He wasn’t happy with civilians on the battlefield when they haven’t seen the boss himself. Daryl poured power to the jet’s engines. She rolled to a take off and circled back toward the town. She would have to set the engines to hover while she tried to get the people up to the jet. Marty should be able to help with that. He should be able to come up with an animal that could lift people up to the roof of the diner. Then she could drop a ladder down for them to climb up when she was over the pickup spot. She smiled when she saw the diner straight ahead. All she had to do was bring it in so she could hover above the place. Her instruments turned red. She turned away from the town. The wings came off then. She saw the ground coming up as the plane went into a spin. It hit a field and exploded. “Daryl?,” Doug ran out in the street. He looked where the fire blossomed in the air. “Daryl!” “What happened?” Marty stepped out in the street. He looked at the fire in the distance. He flung a bird at the site to see what he could do. A giant eyeless head erupted from under the diner. It smashed apart the building with one shrug of its smooth neck. Residents that had not been caught in the initial impact fled. “Barry, we lost Daryl and the jet.” Doug called in his radio. He didn’t know if the team leader could hear him. “We have a giant hostile thing on site.” “Do what you can.” Barry sounded odd. “We have problems on our end too. Make sure Daryl is okay.” “You hear that, Marty?” Doug picked up a car. He threw it at the head. He needed to keep the monster’s attention. Marty was a kid and nowhere in this thing’s league. Even an elephant wouldn’t stop what they were facing. “Check on Daryl.” “I got a bird on the way.” Marty frowned at the giant snake. “How can I help you with this? I don’t think I have anything big enough to knock this thing out.” “Daryl has to be rescued if we can rescue her.” Doug picked up another car. “Make sure she’s okay and then come back to help me.” Marty didn’t like that. Daryl was practically invulnerable, but fires could kill her. Someone had to make sure she had escaped the jet. He ran around the monster as the car flew. He called up a horse and pulled himself on its back. He ordered it to run as fast as it could. There had to be a way to rescue Daryl from the wreck if she was still inside. Marty rode to the scene, sliding off the horse when he reached the edge of the fire. His bird hovered over the wreck. It didn’t see Daryl anywhere. Was she alive? He didn’t have anything to fight a fire. All of his animals allowed him to do specific things, but firefighting was not one of them. He spotted pipes for irrigation. Were they still running? He asked for an elephant to rip up the pipes. Water shot out the open tube. He directed the animal to spray the water on the fire. He needed to get something inside of the wreck to see if Daryl was still inside. He might be able to rescue her. An explosion knocked him down. He looked at the burning mass. There was no way he could get into that. How did he tell Barry he had failed? What about Doug? He was still facing that giant snake by himself. He needed help too. “The plane is gone, Doug.” Marty called his horse again. “I’m coming back to help you.” “Don’t.” Doug sounded desperate. “This thing is too much. Don’t come back to town. Hook up with Barry and Jim.” “What about you?” Marty couldn’t believe his ears. “I’m done for.” Doug gasped in his radio. “Find Barry and Jim. They’re the only ones left. This was a giant trap from the start. Find them.” Marty changed course. He held back tears as he urged the horse to head to where Barry and Jim had gone to check. They had to be alive. Barry had a ton of missiles and stuff. Jim had mental powers. They had to be alive. Marty rode to the edge of the field. It had been ripped apart by fire and flying metal. He dismounted and walked into the broken stalks. He found Barry’s metal skull by stumbling over it. All the flesh had been boiled off. He didn’t see the flesh and metal body the skull should go with. Marty found Jim in a cleared space. The mentalist took panting breaths as he watched the boy draw closer. Blood seeped from his chest. One hand kept the wound closed as much as it could. The other hand seemed to be missing. “Trap, Marty.” Jim gasped the words. “Powers shut down. Ambushed.” “Maybe I can help you.” Marty thought a spider could spin a web to seal the wound. How much time did he have? “Listen.” Jim panted now. “Cortez never here. The trail was laid by someone else with access. Find that man, Marty. Find him. They took their dead. They didn’t take all of their effects.” Jim flopped his handless arm around. He pushed a ring into view. “Whomever owns that ring did this.” He closed his mouth to concentrate on something other than breathing. “Better run.” Marty took his advice. He grabbed the ring and ran from the field, mounting and riding his horse away as fast as possible. A column of fire marked the passing of his friend. He rode to a stop. The mission was a failure. The town was flattened. The civilians had been killed, or fled if they were lucky. Fire marked the plane crash and Jim Marley’s cremation. The snake monster lay dead. Doug laid next to it. Part of his body was gone. Marty looked at the ring. He didn’t know what the symbols on it meant. He would have to look for it while pretending to be dead. The team had a couple of places that no one knew about. He could retreat to one of them while he tried to work out who owned the ring he now possessed. The last survivor of the Hazard Scouts tossed his helmet down and rode away from their last adventure. 51678

Showdown in a Small Town 1969- Part One “Are we sure this is the place?” Doug Fleming looked out of the plane’s window as it soared over a one horse town in the middle of nowhere. “The readings say so.” Barry Nicklaus smiled. One hand checked the parts built into his body. He would be ready to go by the time they landed. “If it isn’t, we’ll cross it off our list and go to the next one like we’ve done before.” “Doesn’t look like much.” Marty Morgan climbed up in the seat and looked out the window over Fleming’s shoulder. “I don’t see a strip.” “There probably isn’t any airstrips.” Barry checked his loads for his pistol. “We might have to land and walk in.” “All right guys,” said Daryl Honeycutt. “We’re coming in for a landing. Strap in.” “You heard the lady, Marty.” Fleming pointed out seatbelts to their youngest member. “You don’t want to be slammed around when we hit the ground.” “Okay.” Marty took a seat and strapped in. “This is usually where the missile battery opens up on us.” Barry strapped himself in. “Why do you say things like that?” Doug shook his head. “This should be a milk run. Why do you have to tempt fate like that?” “I like to give bad guys ideas so I can find them faster.” Barry smiled at the expression on his friend’s face. “It makes it easier to punch them.” “It makes easier for them to shoot at us.” Fleming shook his head. He pulled on a flight helmet. He kept the visor up, but it would protect his head in case something went wrong. Daryl was a great fighter, but she liked to plop her planes down so someone would start making trouble. The faster they got things sorted out, the better the group liked it. Hopefully Marley would keep her from being too reckless. His mental abilities should bolster hers so she didn’t drive the plane into the ground, or against anything solid. “Going in.” Daryl reported. “Keep an eye out in case we need them.” Marty hoped things went smooth. He didn’t want to fight for his life because everyone else was thinking how great it would be. He would rather have an uneventful look around rather than a search and destroy. Search and destroy led to a lot of collateral damage that he didn’t think looked good when you were supposed to be sneaking around as best you could. The plane shuddered as Daryl touched ground. She rolled the plane to a gentle stop on a country road. She cut the engines. “Everybody out.” Barry undid his belt and stood. He rushed to the door and pushed it open so he could kick the ladder from its niche. He liked to be the first person out because his quasi-robotic body was generally tougher than the rest of them. Bad guys liked shooting at Barry because they knew if they took him down, the rest of the group would follow easier. Doug and Marty joined him at the door. Marty held out a hand. A bird leaped from it, flying away on gray wings. That gave him an eye in the sky while they looked around. “Let’s see how bad things are.” Barry dropped down to the ground. One hand rested on his pistol. He didn’t draw it yet. There was still a chance they were wrong. Doug slid down the ladder. He moved cautiously under the belly of the plane to look at the other side of the road. He didn’t see anything. Maybe no one wanted to go to a plane parked on the local road because they knew it was a lost cause. He didn’t like it. It meant trouble of one kind, or another. Marty climbed down the ladder. He looked around as he tried to follow the input from his bird. It hadn’t seen anyone on the streets. Farming seemed to be out too. “I don’t see anyone.” Doug didn’t like the fact that not even the crops were moving. “I don’t see anyone either,” Marty reported. “Where is everyone?” “Don’t know.” Barry took a bearing. “Maybe we should go into town and see what we can stir up.” Daryl dropped from the door and bounced to a stop. She took on a human form wearing their uniform colors. She smiled slightly. “Doesn’t look like anyone is home.” She shielded her eyes with a hand. “Which way do we go from here, guys?” “People are in the town. They are clustered in the diner.” Jim Marley drifted from the door, keeping himself off the ground by two inches. “There is something there that makes them afraid to leave the building.” “Where is Cortez?” Barry knew his mental ace was working on that. They hated each other, and tried to kill each other as soon as they spotted one another. “I have a signal in the fields beyond the town.” Marley floated forward. “I don’t trust it.” “So how do we do this, Barry?” Doug cracked his knuckles. “We need Jim to figure out what’s going on with the signal.” Barry grimaced. They had lost the element of surprise. He knew that he should be expecting Cortez’s armed forces and his lieutenant, but nothing was going on. He didn’t like that at all. It smelled like a trap. “Doug, take Daryl and Marty and scout the diner. Jim and I will check out this signal.” Barry hated dividing up their forces. He should have recruited more people, but for now he had to make do with what he had. “If there is a problem, send up a flare. We’ll try to rescue you if we’re not having problems of our own.” “There’s going to be problems.” Doug waved at the other two to follow him. He headed into town, scanning the buildings for sentries. “I agree with Doug.” Jim floated next to his leader. “There’s going to be problems.” “We have to make do with what we have.” Barry shrugged. “Let’s see if we can scout our problem before we close with it.” Barry drew his pistol. He pulled out a round from his arm storage and loaded it in the only clear chamber. His designs required something sturdy without a lot of moving parts, so he had opted for modifying a revolver to do what he wanted. He checked the direction of the wind. “How far to this signal, Jim?” Barry’s mechanical parts allowed him to hit anything within the range of his pistol. Some of his rounds were modified with boosters to carry them further than a normal projectile. “A couple of miles that way.” Jim pointed. “I don’t think you can hit it from here.” “I don’t think so either.” Barry sighted along the frame of the pistol. He checked the windage again. “But I can put a bug in sight of the signal so we can get a partial look at it.” He pulled the trigger. The pistol puffed a cloud of smoke out the barrel. He waited for the projectile to hit before he started moving. If it came down and was destroyed, he would have to think of some way to get around what he would suspect was a magnetic field. His body would be rendered inert by any magnetic field strong enough. And Cortez knew that. “It’s giving me data.” Barry started down the road. “It looks like some kind of sensory array. I don’t think it’s designed for radar, but I could be wrong. I’ll have to take a closer look.” Jim didn’t say anything. He let his senses range out to look for other things, or people, who might be dangerous to them. Something was there at the diner. He didn’t know what it was, but it was there. He hoped the others didn’t get in trouble while Barry and he were investigating the signal in the field. He had a feeling that the signal and the presence were connected. He didn’t know what it meant. He needed to check the signal, then the presence. Maybe a closer examination would tell him what was wrong with the picture. He spotted the others heading toward the diner. They would be there before Barry and he made it to the signal. “We better hurry.” Marley sped up his floating. “The others are almost in position.” “We’ll go faster but we have to make sure to still try to keep the direction we’re traveling a secret.” Barry broke into a jog. He kept to the edge of the road as his heavy body moved smoothly along. Jim floated quietly behind him. He kept his scan going. Cortez already knew they were there. All they needed was for him to attack. Of course, he might have fled with whatever he wanted by now. 49557

Across the Divide 1969- Bobby Benson looked out the window of his quarters. His arm didn’t hurt anymore, but it was still withered from the last attack of his major foes. He supposed he was lucky the beam hadn’t hit him head on like it had Will and Anne. He didn’t feel that lucky. Bobby wondered if his powers would allow him to heal the arm. He hadn’t found anything in the scrolls. Cain had written down other applications of the Spark, but healing seemed to be work for other people. He could be the first user to use the Spark for healing. He just didn’t know how to apply it yet. Something would show up and give him a clue on how he was going to do that. He wouldn’t mind it if he could just get more mobility in the thing without resorting to becoming the Mark. That temporarily fixed things as he used the magic to turn into his other self. He doubted any doctors could fix it. And he wasn’t willing to lose the arm altogether. That seemed like too much of a drastic solution for his tastes. He heard a cry for help coming from the clouds outside his window. Maybe a call to action was what he needed. It had been a while since he had done something constructive. The court had declared him innocent, but people were afraid of him now. They were waiting for him to go on another rampage. He supposed they had a point, but he didn’t like it. He called on the Spark and changed. His jeans and workshirt transformed into a blue suit with a green tie clip. He dove out of the open window. He was still the Mark, and he still had a job to do. He descended into a cloud. When he came out the other side, he flew over a city that resembled New York. Some of the buildings seemed to be in the wrong place, and Manhattan didn’t look like it did back home, but it was close enough to be recognizable. He headed for where the scream had come from to pierce his lookout. He wanted to solve the problem and go back to his research. He had to figure out how to get his arm back to normal. He refused to believe that there was nothing that could help him. He had fought a lot of mad scientists. He didn’t want to talk to them again about what had happened that had led to their incarceration. He found the source of the call. A woman backed from an alley. She held her hands to her mouth. She turned to run from whatever was inside the lane between buildings. Something charged out of the space after her. It had too many mouths and claws for ripping. It sprinted on all fours to catch up to its intended prey. Bobby swooped down and picked it up. It turned to claw at him with a few of its arms. He threw it up in the air. He paused to check the scene. He didn’t want to leave others like the thing running around to attack civilians. He didn’t see any more of the things. He should be able to catch it and put it somewhere it wouldn’t hurt anybody else. He wondered if that shaggy coat would protect it in the Arctic. The danger would be if it could move in the ice zone and decided to track back south to civilization. He wondered if killing it was the right answer to this problem. He noticed a glowing path in the distance. It seemed to be flying around the Statue of Liberty. Maybe he should check that out before he went home. Maybe one of the local heroes was having a problem he could help out with. Bobby caught the furry monster as it fell back down toward the city. He headed out to the Statue of Liberty. It wasn’t quite the copper beauty of his world, but he knew it anywhere. He found a flying man flying around the head of the statue. Her hair formed a green waterfall over a small tiara. A group of men in yellow overalls stood on the hairdo. They shot at the flying man with blasters that seemed too advanced for the rest of the city he had observed on the flight here. “How’s it going?” Bobby caught two of the energy bolts with his free hand. The other hand dangled the monster high above the sea. It whimpered as it looked down at the ocean below. “Who are you?” The flying man wore a costume of red and gold. A gold mask covered the upper half of his face. “I’m the Mark.” Bobby held up the monster. “I caught this thing attacking some woman in the city. I was thinking of taking it to the Arctic, but then I noticed you flying around over here.” The flying man frowned at the explanation. It sounded too good to be true. “A new hero?” That seemed to be the only piece that made things fit together. “I’m visiting from the next universe over.” Bobby wondered if he would believe that. He knew he would weigh it before accepting it. He had seen too many strange things not to believe a story like that until it was disproved. “Would you mind giving me a hand?,” the other hero asked. “I have two other emergencies I need to handle at the moment.” “Sure.” Bobby threw his captive into the air. Then he flew into the mass of shooting men. He smashed into them, crushing equipment, punching enemies before they could run. He flew up and caught the creature. It whimpered now. “Thanks.” The other hero smiled. “The police are on the way to pick them up. I have a guy demanding my presence at the airport, and some kind of monster on the Strip.” “Which airport?” Bobby could handle both jobs by himself, but felt his power allowed him a better chance of stopping someone holding a plane hostage. “Nixon International.” The masked man pointed where Bobby knew La Guardia stood in his home city. “I’ll handle it.” Bobby smiled. “As soon as I’m done, I’ll help you with your monster.” “Thanks.” The masked man headed south toward New Jersey. He showed a lot of trust in a guy he just met. “Let’s go, Fangs.” Bobby streaked toward the airport. He noted the presence of police helicopters on the way to the Statue. At least he wasn’t leaving criminals to escape after the beating he had given them. He grabbed some rebar from a nearby construction site and wrapped his captive in it. He let it test its prison to make sure it couldn’t escape. Then he placed the cage on the traffic control tower. He knocked on the window to get the controllers’ attention. He pointed down to let them know he was heading for a landing. A group of men in suits and uniforms met him at the door. They looked worried about what was going on. A bevy of questions about Captain Spark led the way. “I’m pinch hitting for him at the moment.” Bobby held up his hands. “He had some monster to beat up. What can you guys tell me about the problem? I’ll be glad to deal with it for you.” “We got a guy in Flight Four Ten who says he’s got a bomb that he will use to blow up the passengers and himself unless he sees Captain Spark in the next few minutes. We have ten minutes to comply.” One of the men took charge. “SWAT says they can’t get a clean shot. He’s in the cabin with the passengers and away from the windows.” “Call him up and tell him that Captain Sparks’s brother is coming down to talk to him.” Bobby frowned. “Can one of you guys show me where the plane is?” “He’s not going to like that.” The guy in charge frowned. “Tell him to turn on the news if he can.” Bobby shrugged. “Captain Spark said he had a monster to deal with on the Strip. Tell him I’m just going to keep him company until the guy can get here.” “I’ll tell him.” The man nodded. “If you can get him in the cockpit, SWAT say they can take him out.” “As long as he doesn’t detonate when he sees me, I can take care of this.” Bobby smiled. “Which one is Four Ten?” “Come with me.” One of the uniforms led the way across the tarmac. A rifleman and aid took up a spot next to the building. Others were sprinkled behind cover. Bobby noted them, but said nothing. There was no point in letting them know he could see like an eagle. “There’s the plane.” He pointed to a plane sitting by itself in the middle of a runway. No one was close to it, and the authorities might be afraid to block it in if the guy decided he wanted to fly out of there after talking to Captain Spark. “Let me go out there and talk to the guy.” Bobby frowned. “If he doesn’t push the button when he sees me, we have a shot. If he does, the hostages are as good as dead.” “What about you?,” the uniform asked. “He needs a nuke if he wants to scratch me.” Bobby smiled. “That’s why I have a shot at walking away.” Bobby didn’t plan to let the man push the button. He knew the plane and he had speed beyond measure. He wasn’t letting the guy know he was coming as a stall. He was letting him know so he had to be in one of two places. One of those Bobby could see. When he saw the hostage taker step into the cockpit, bomb on prominent display, he launched from the asphalt. His flight bowled over the police as he flickered across the field as fast as a bullet. The bomber knew he was in trouble when something had him by the throat, while crushing his hand with the other hand. Then they were outside on the runway. “How’s it going?” Bobby grinned at him. “Are there more of you on the plane?” “I’ll never tell you, pig.” The bomber tried to free his hand so the switch would fall out of it. He couldn’t break the grip holding the detonator in place. “I think you need to go for a swim.” Bobby launched himself in the air. He headed out into the bay. He dragged his enemy through the water. The electronics stopped working after the first minute. He knew this because the man dropped the detonator and nothing happened. Bobby returned to the airport. He dropped the man on the runway away from the plane. Police and fire fighters had crossed the tarmac when Bobby had grabbed the mastermind. “Everyone is okay.” The uniform that had acted as a guide for Bobby smiled. “That was a good job.” “It’s backfired a couple of times.” Bobby pulled the bomb off of his victim with a tearing of cloth. “Most people can’t even see me when I don’t want them to.” “I believe it.” The uniform pulled cuffs from under his belt. “I don’t know why this guy wanted Captain Spark so bad, but maybe he’ll tell us downtown.” “Maybe the plane was rigged somehow.” Bobby shrugged. “He might still have something in the cargo that could be triggered.” “I’ll get the bomb squad to go over the thing to make sure.” The uniform waved at two of his men. “The last thing we need is a disaster here at the airport.” “Let me check in with the Captain, then I have to head home.” Bobby smiled. “I have my own crooks to punch in the face.” “Have a good flight,” said the uniform. He found that he was talking to himself. Bobby picked up his homemade cage. The monster hissed at him. He nodded in reply. Then he headed south. He spotted the giant monster being forced off the gambling area by Captain Spark. He wondered how he could stop the thing without knocking over a building. He didn’t want to do more damage than he had to. The monster in the cage started making the noises. It whistled and hooted. The bigger monster paused to look at the cage. It roared in dismay. Bobby flew up and held the little monster in front of the bigger monster. The little one stretched out limbs for the bigger one. “What’s going on?” Captain Spark looked at the two. “I think this is the baby.” Bobby pulled the cage apart so the smaller monster could climb out. He helped it over to the clutches of the big one. Hooting filled the air. “All right.” Captain Spark nodded. “Thanks for the help. How do we get them back to where they belong?” “Got me,” said Bobby. “I guess I can fly the mother out of the city.” The bigger monster turned and headed toward the sea. Her tail knocked out glass windows as she passed. Her baby rode on her shoulder. “It looks like our work here is done when the creatures head out to shore.” Bobby smiled. “This worked out better than I thought.” “I still have to help repair the damage to the buildings.” Captain Spark shook his head. “At least the family is back together.” “You can’t do better than that.” Bobby looked around. This Atlantic City was just as off as the New York, but it still stood after a close encounter of a scaly kind. He waved his hand as he headed for a cloud to get back to his window. He still had to find a cure for his arm. 48090

Ink Buttons 2010- Ten year old Tanner Lerner smiled as he watched the night sky. He had spent a lot of time picking out his spot. He planned to watch as much of the meteor shower that he could before his parents came out to fetch him. They encouraged his interest in the stars, but they had set a curfew they enforced. He was not supposed to be out after ten on a school night. He had picked his spot so they couldn’t find him easily when they came out to call him in. He could put not responding down to having his earphones in while watching the sky. He thought that wouldn’t fly over well, but it would get him time to watch the stars as the shower started. “What you doing, Squirt?” His neighbor, Darla Huitt, approached from the base of the hill. She was in the same grade as he was, and he thought he couldn’t get rid of her easily. “Star watching.” Tanner wondered what he could say to get her to leave him alone. He didn’t need her to get in his way while he was making his observations. “Are you allowed out this late?” She grinned at him. “Only big boys are supposed to be able to get out of their play pens.” Anger boiled in his system but he forced it down. He didn’t need the pest getting close to his parents and getting grounded because he was not home. “Don’t you have someone else to troll?” Tanner gritted his teeth. If he could hold on for a few moments, then his project would fly. “Not really.” She smiled. “All my homework is done.” Great. She planned to hang out with him and drive him crazy. Maybe he should pack it in and go somewhere else. Packing the telescope would be a pain, but he thought about it and realized unless he went home, she would follow him around to tell him how she felt. And he didn’t care how she felt. He looked at his watch. The shower was supposed to start in a few minutes. He looked for the first streak heading across the sky. Once he had a visual bearing, he could turn and focus the telescope on the meteors heading toward Earth. He could ignore his cousin for the time to the shower starting. Maybe if he ignored her, she would go away. He decided that wasn’t going to work. She would just get in his way to keep him from doing that. Maybe he should pack it in. There would be other meteor showers he could watch without her interfering. He didn’t want to give up his hill. “What’s so cool about these meteors?” She covered her mouth as she yawned. “They only show once in a century.” He realized that maybe talking to her might not be a good thing and slowed things down. On the other hand, he might be able to knock everything over with a grudge and set up somewhere else. Tanner spotted the leading edge of the storm and smiled. He watched the flames with his telescope. Concentrating on that would be better as a whole than watching for someone who had a problem temper try to get him in trouble. Why didn’t she move on? She didn’t have any interest in the stars as far as he was concerned. Why wasn’t she home? “Parents fighting?” Tanner scanned the sky. One of the meteors seemed to be wobbling. What was going on there? “When aren’t they, Squirt?” She sighed. “They should just get a divorce and be done with it.” Tanner silently agreed. Uncle Bill and Aunt Jamie fought all the time. They never seemed to say a nice thing to each other whenever he saw them together. It was embarrassing to him. He didn’t want to take sides, but frequently they asked him an opinion. His answers seemed to always make things worse. And he could rarely extract himself from the situation without making both of them mad at him. One of the meteors veered out of the stream in the sky. He studied it with his telescope. It seemed to be getting bigger. He looked at it with his naked eye. It was coming down close by. “We should get away from here.” Tanner looked at his setup. He didn’t want to lose his telescope, but he didn’t have time to pack it up. He decided to move. If the meteor hit and missed his telescope, he would come back for it. “Meteor hits look like cannon shots afterwards.” “What are you talking about?” She looked up at the approaching light. She smiled. “Are you crazy?” Tanner grabbed her arm. He pulled on her to follow him. “We’ll be killed if we stay here.” “That’s fine with me.” She pushed him away. “It beats going back home.” “We have to go.” Tanner pulled as hard as he could. She resisted, digging in her heels. “It’s not safe.” “Run if you want.” She punched him in the face. He went down. “This is what I need.” Tanner got to his feet. The light in the sky was closer. He looked at his cousin. Then he did the only thing he could think of to do. He tackled her, pushing her down the hill in front of him. They rolled from the apex, his cousin screaming in his ear. He took a shot to the face as they hit bottom. Darla unleashed a stream of invective as she tried to get to her feet. A fist to the face didn’t slow her down. She retaliated with a kick. Tanner clenched his teeth. The light from the stars hung above them as they wrestled on the ground. An explosion picked him up and sent him tumbling to the ground. He landed on his back. He stood up. Darla lay on her face. She didn’t move. He wondered if she got her wish. He decided to check on his telescope before he dealt with her. He had no interest in getting involved with her parents. He marched up the altered hill. He didn’t have to like astronomy to know he and his cousin were lucky to still be in one piece. The top of the hill had been carved out. The trees and his telescope were gone. He supposed they had been reduced to fragments from the impact. How was he going to explain losing that to his parents. First, he violated his curfew. Then he lost his expensive telescope. And if his cousin said anything, he would be grounded for punching her in the mouth. He should punch her again to make it worth getting punished. He walked to the edge of the crater. He spotted something glowing at the bottom of the bowl. Maybe the meteor had survived impact. If it had, it would be worth losing his telescope. He took off his shirt and touched the edge of the glow with it. He smiled when his shirt didn’t catch fire. The thing was cooling off fast. If he could get the thing out of the hill, he could take it home and look at it. Maybe he could call a museum and ask them what he could do with it. There might be some money in the thing. If there was a reward, he could replace his telescope with the money. All he had to do was get the thing out of the crater and get it home. He heard Darla moan at the bottom of the hill. He needed to grab the thing and head home. He wasn’t going to share credit with her. She had almost got them killed with her reluctance to flee. He decided to wrap his shirt around the glow. If he could carry it away, he expected it to cool while he ran home. It should be completely safe to touch by the time he got it to his house. Then he could come back for Darla, if he felt like it. If she didn’t know about the thing, she couldn’t try to use it as some kind of lever for promises. He wasn’t getting involved with her, or the rest of her crazy family if he could help it. Tanner started into the crater. He looked for the source of the glow as he spread his shirt out to catch it. Once he had the thing covered, he planned to tie the shirt together so he could carry it like a bag. He dropped the shirt. He grabbed the edges and started to scoop up what was left at the bottom of the bowl. Pain ran up his hands. He dropped the shirt. He examined his fingers. Lines colored the pads, then spread up one arm as he watched. He gritted his teeth at the thought he might be dead thanks to Darla. He should kick her to get some revenge before he died from whatever he had touched through his shirt. He picked up his shirt. The shine was gone. He spotted two holes through the cloth. Whatever had poked him in the hands had done it through the shirt. How was he going to explain things to his parents? What was this writing on his arm? It looked like buttons. He realized it looked like a typewriter keypad. He could make things like letters out under the stars, but not exactly what. How was he going to explain a big tattoo like that. Things just kept getting worse for him. He should kick Darla for what she had got him into. He sat down on the edge of the crater and wondered what he was going to do. All of his options looked bad to him. He should have known something bad was going to happen the moment she showed up. He looked down the hill. What was he going to do? Pain throbbed in his hands. He needed to have that checked out. He couldn’t let some unknown fungus eat at him. He should get to the hospital and let them keep him from melting, or whatever he was going to do now. He stood up. At least Darla was safe until she got home. That had been his good deed for the day. He might as well lord it over her as much as he could. He got to his feet. He noticed a stream of glowing particles heading down the hill for the first time. He grimaced. The stream headed right for Darla. He rushed down to pull her out of the way. The last thing he needed was to get blamed for a tattoo on his cousin. He grabbed her shoulders and picked her up in a sitting position. He frowned. Two squares had written themselves in at her temples. An eye disfigured her forehead. Too late to do anything for her now. He couldn’t carry her. He had to wake her up and get her on her way before anyone investigated what had happened. He wasn’t explaining an alien tattoo to anyone if he could help it. He certainly wasn’t going to take Darla home and tell her parents that she had been knocked out and some glowing stuff had pierced her brain. He knew better to expect anything good coming out of that. He slapped Darla’s face. That felt good. He did it again. She moaned. “Wake up.” He slapped her again. “We don’t have time for this, Darla.” “Don’t hit me again, Squirt.” She opened her eyes. They were the wrong color. Tanner grimaced. How were they going to explain glowing yellow eyes. He decided to let Darla handle it. He didn’t want to look out for her. He didn’t need the hassle her parents would cause him if he was reported to his own parents. “Let’s go.” He got to his feet. “You took a bad hit, and I need to change my clothes.” “All right.” Darla got to her feet. “I feel sick as a dog. My head hurts, and I’m craving some pizza.” “I’ll walk with you to your house.” Tanner pulled on his shirt. “After that, I have to get home and clean up myself.” “I don’t need your help.” Darla staggered toward her house five steps. She paused and hung her head. Was she going to be sick? Could she make it on her own? What should he do? He decided the best thing he could do was help her if she wanted it. Then he had to get home and take his punishment from his own parents. He could take it. He was alive. He had saved his cousin’s life. He had been infected with something, but the initial pain was over. He could live with that after he talked to a doctor about it. He needed to make the best of what he could do at the moment. He didn’t want to be confined to the hospital, but if it helped him figure things out, then that might be the best solution to the sudden focus. Maybe the doctors could figure out why the thing resembled a typewriter. He doubted that was accidental, but he had no clue on what it meant. He walked behind Darla as she cut across several lots to her house. He watched as she went inside. He hoped the tattoo on her face wouldn’t get her in trouble. He knew that was forlorn. Her parents liked to fight too much for them to let it go. They would be on her like rabid squirrels. He turned and headed for his own house. He had to get home and sneak inside without his parents catching him. He didn’t want them telling him that he had broken curfew and he was going to be punished. Helping Darla would be seen as a plus, but not mitigating. He shouldn’t have been out there to have to help Darla in the first place. He would figure something out while he was trying to sneak into his house. At least his parents didn’t generally make things hard for him. He was thankful for that. He scratched an itch on his newly tattooed arm. Three of the buttons glowed. He looked at the shining buttons. Then he felt himself shrinking down to the size of an ant. He looked at his surroundings in horror. How was he going to deal with this? 45789

The Interview 2015- Marcel Hobart checked the address from the ad against the building in front of him. He looked up and down the street. He didn’t see anything else marked Lamplighters, Inc. A lantern hanging over the door seemed to mock him with its blue flame. It looked run down. Should he go inside, or should he just write this job off? He was getting a weird vibe from the building. It was telling him to walk away. Ordinarily Marcel listened to his inner voice. It had kept him from getting shot more than a few times. He needed a job, and the ad said this place needed someone with his skill set. He put the ad in his pocket. He walked over. The place’s front had taken some kind of beating in the past. He saw numerous scoring marks that reminded him of the aftermath of explosions. Had someone attacked the place? Is that why someone with his background was being considered? He took a breath before opening the human-sized door. He looked inside. A pile of trash stood in the middle of the open floor. He blinked at it. He had thought the place was up and running. He stepped inside. No one seemed to be around. Maybe he had come at the right time. He checked his watch. He was a little early for his appointment. Maybe he should write this off. “Hello!,” he shouted to the empty room. “Is anyone here?” A woman appeared at the top of a central spiral staircase. She frowned at him. Then she smiled. “Mr. Hobart?” She came down the staircase. “Come in. Please excuse the mess. We’re trying to get back in fighting shape.” “Your ad said you were looking for applicants.” Marcel walked deeper into the bay. He saw that a mechanic’s tool shelves decorated the walls. “Have I come at a bad time?” “No, no.” She waved to a visitor’s seat in front of a desk at the back of the room. “We’ve been shut down for a while, and we’re getting ready to start back up.” “Okay.” Marcel sat down in the chair. “Thank you for giving me a chance.” “I’ll be honest, Mr. Hobart.” She sat down on the other side of her desk. “You have to pass two tests before I can even think about giving you the paperwork to fill out. You have to test clean for drugs, and you have to pass our eye test.” Marcel frowned. He expected a drug test. That part was in the ad. An eye test seemed a little much to base hiring practices on. “An eye test?” He had perfect vision as far as he knew. He should be able to pass an eye test. “A lot of our equipment will be keyed to your retinas.” She smiled. “If the scanner can’t lock on to your eyes, it won’t turn anything on. That could be suicide in the field.” “I get that.” Marcel did get it. Your equipment failing and killing someone seemed to be a perfect reason to check your employee’s eyeballs if you didn’t want to kill him. “Is this job dangerous? I didn’t see any specifics in your ad.” “It’s one of the most dangerous jobs in the world right now.” She smiled. It didn’t ease his alarm at the words. “The owner of the business lost his three partners when a job went bad. That’s what you’re signing up for if you can pass the tests.” “Maybe I should bow out.” Marcel felt his warning agreeing with the words. “I didn’t really expect any danger.” “That’s understandable.” She nodded. “I’ll discard your application. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Hobart.” “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Marcel stood up. “I just don’t want to get shot again.” “That’s understandable.” She stood. “Would you like a sandwich and some coffee for your trouble?” “A glass of water would be fine.” Marcel nodded. “Thank you.” “No problem.” She walked up the staircase, pulling off her rubber gloves. Marcel felt something with him. He looked around the room. He spotted picture frames hidden behind a file cabinet. He walked over to look at them. He knew he shouldn’t, but his curiosity was pulling him even as his warning was saying get out as loud as it could. “I thought you was a marine, boy.” A voice drifted out of the air as he started to look at the pictures. “What a chicken.” Marcel straightened. He didn’t know what irked him more: someone had caught him snooping and he hadn’t heard them walking toward him, or being called a chicken by someone who didn’t know him. “I don’t see how that’s your business.” Marcel wondered why the guy was dressed like a cowboy from a movie. All he needed was one of those long coats. “Your daddy must be proud you turned out such a horrible example of a human being.” The cowboy shifted his hat back on his head. “He must congratulate himself every night on the job he done.” “My father has nothing to do with this.” Marcel knew what was going on. This guy was trying to make him change his mind by angering him and attacking his courage. “Who do you think you are?” “Milton Kearn, boy.” The cowboy smiled slightly. “It’s something I carry with pride since I never had to run like a dog with its tail between its legs. Is that how you survived when the rest of your squad died? You ran like the coward you are?” “That’s not what remotely happened.” Marcel glared at his accuser. “What happened, Corporal?” The cowboy crossed his arms. “How did you survive?” “I can’t tell you that.” Marcel had signed a document ordering him not to talk about what had happened that had led to him getting his purple heart. “I’ll tell you then, Corporal Hobart.” The cowboy glared at him. “Corporal Hobart and his squad was on a patrol. They walked into an ambush. Enemy fire raked them before they could take cover. Corporal Hobart was shot twice while abandoning his men to the enemy. At least they gave you a purple heart for getting shot in the back when you broke.” “That’s not what happened.” Marcel glared back. “I was leading the patrol. I was shot when I turned to warn my guys about the ambush. I lucked out and fell into a culvert and was overlooked while the massacre was going on. All my friends died. I managed to crawl out of the area and was picked up by another patrol. All of this was investigated. I was discharged because of my wounds.” “Maybe you were discharged because it looked like you ran.” Kearn gestured with a hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time they got rid of a suspected chicken.” “Maybe, but that doesn’t matter now.” Marcel felt his rage dissipating. “What matters now is I don’t have a job, and I am running out of my savings.” “This is a job for you, Corporal Hobart,” said Kearn. “Too bad you’re too much of a yellowbelly to take it.” “You’re not taunting me into changing my mind.” Hobart shook his head. “Your pay will take care of your family.” Kearn shrugged. “If you get killed, your children will be taken care of for the rest of their lives.” “I don’t believe it.” Marcel crossed his arms. “Why should I believe you?” “Cause I set up the funds to pay for deaths and injuries, boy.” Kearn sneered. “How do you think the business is restarting? It’s because I prepared for a day when it had to be set up if there was a catastrophic problem.” “So if I take the job, I can support my family?,” said Marcel. “If I get killed, the settlement will pay for my kids’ education?” “If you’re man enough.” Kearn pulled his hat down over his eyes. “If you think you can do better than me.” “I can do better than you.” Marcel felt his warning telling him to back off. He ignored it. No bigot was going to tell him he couldn’t do the job better. The gauntlet had hit him in the face. He was ready to grab it and slap his accuser back. “I would like to see you try, yellowbelly.” Kearn smiled, but it wasn’t a smile with a lot of humor in it. “Mr. Hobart?” The lady came down the stairs. A cup was in her hands. She looked confused. Marcel glanced at her. When he looked back at where Kearn stood, the cowboy was gone. The man had gone as silently as he had arrived. “Is it too late to change my mind?” Marcel knew that most people wouldn’t hire you after you turned down the job. “Is the opening still open?” “If you can pass the tests.” She handed him the cup. “I can do the eye test right now, and then call for you to get your drug test at the lab we use.” “I would like to do that.” Marcel sipped the water. He realized his mouth was dry after the confrontation with Kearn. “Paperwork will be filed after I get the test back?” “That’s right.” She smiled. “Why the second thoughts?” “I have to think about my kids.” Marcel gestured at the picture frames. “What are you going to do with those pictures?” “I’m going to rehang them as soon as I get the place cleaned out.” She shook her head. “Mark really let the place go after he shut things down.” “Is it okay if I look at them?” Marcel felt his warning kick in. He shouldn’t look at those pictures. He should wait. “I don’t see why not.” She smiled. “It’ll give me a chance to make my lunch before I give you the eye test.” “Thanks.” Marcel frowned as he tried to remember the name of the voice on the phone when he set up his appointment. “Miss Hillsmeirer?” “No problem.” She smiled again. “If you pass, as soon as Mark gets back, we’ll get you set up to train with the equipment to keep accidents down.” Marcel nodded. He pushed the stack up so he could look at the first one in the row. It was a newspaper clipping. He frowned as he read the headline. LAMPLIGHTERS DIE SAVING THE CITY. The cowboy hat on the gurney being hauled away in the picture looked too familiar to the applicant. Marcel let the stack fall back in their original position as he thought about who he had been talking to for the minute Miss Hillsmeirer had been upstairs. 43,384

I have read a few books The Late Show by Mike Connally. Renee Ballard is a female detective working overnight where she and her partner take initial reports and then hand them over to dayshift detectives. Then Renee starts trying to work cases that she should be handing over. Ballard is just as tenacious as Bosch and as prone to cutting corners, but she makes a lot more mistakes since she doesn't want to obey rules or trust anyone since a former partner didn't stand up for her when she needed him to do that. I came away not liking the book, because I didn't like her. Matchups is an anthology where writers team up their characters. Naturally I liked the Reacher/Bones teamup the most. No Middle Name by Child. Short stories featuring Jack Reacher. James Penney's New Identity, Portrait of a Lonely Diner, and No room at the Inn were the best stories in the book. CES

TheDestroyer 5000 BC- Part 3 The hunchback readied himself for his next spell. The lord of the other realm was coming to Earth. All he had to do now was tap that potential power to fix himself and arm himself to stand up to any magician who tried to duel him. His name would be feared as the man who destroyed the world. People would bow down at his passing. He could take anything he wanted. He would be the new master of the world. “Are you sure you want to keep on this course?” The entity that had arrived before the others stood in the Spring with him. “It can only end badly for you.” “How did you get in here?” The hunchback raised a hand. “You let me in.” He puffed on his pipe. “There’s still time to change your mind. A lot of people don’t get that when they’ve made a mistake.” The hunchback murmured words in the air. A lance of purple light appeared in his hand. He flung it at his gadfly. Destroying a construct should be easy for him to do. The javelin fell to the ground. The target had swept the air in front of him with a hand. That caused the weapon to change course and strike the ground. It shattered to nothingness on impact. The entity puffed on his pipe as he advanced. All he had to do was evict the summoner from his own spell work. That should be easy enough to do. The hunchback invoked protection from his enemy. He felt the grid of signs slide between them. One touch and he could use his power to steal the spirit in front of him and use him as a weapon against the others. That would be the quickest way for him to get what he wanted. “A spirit trap.” The smoker shook his head. “You know these can be used on their creators?” He tapped the grid with his pipe’s stem. The symbols reversed. A wind pulled on the hunchback’s body, pulling on his inner spirit. The hunchback murmured again, reversing the spirit trap while throwing another lance at his enemy. Let it counter that. A hand directed the lance into the spirit trap. The conjoined spells transformed into a small yellow and white dog. The dog growled at the hunchback. The dog charged with a snapping of its jaws. It snatched at his ankles with growling and the clacking of teeth. A kick sent it across the protective line with a yelp. “I’ve had enough of you.” The hunchback concentrated on unleashing a storm inside the pillars. He regretted unleashing all of his spirits to hold the magicians off while he tried to complete his plans. He murmured a call for a monster that should be able to handle this meddler. Then he could get back to his business. A swarm of black appeared out of a cloud. Yellow spots could have been eyes. It flung itself on the man with no name. “Time to fix my back and end this battle for good.” The hunchback raised his hands. A set of spells in the middle of the Spring should do what he wanted despite what the others wanted. A fist slammed against his protection. He flew over the line, thrown from his position. He murmured more protections before he hit the sand and rock and slid. The man with the green star floated in the ring of pillars. The summoned beast turned to glare at the flying man. He smashed it together with both hands as it leapt into the air to seize him. The hunchback climbed to his feet. He surveyed the battlefield. How was he going to turn this around? The entity with no name and the flying man were in control of the Spring. His servants had been defeated and dispersed as far as he could tell. He might be able to recall them to action if he had more power. Some of the meddlers had been hurt by his minions. He counted that as partial success. He was going to have to kill them eventually if they got in his way. He had a small chance to do that now. The hand of the Destroyer grabbed the swordsman. The massive fingers closed and crushed the life out of the hero. The hunchback smiled as ash flew into the wind. That was one of his tormentors done. Now he had to kill the rest. An arc of lightning struck the dead man’s sword. It changed as the hunchback marshaled his own forces. The sword flew into the air, a thing of white bone and lightning. It never came back down. The hunchback murmured a spell. He had to get back in control of the Spring. That would give him the power to stop the others. Sand covered him in a cloud. He closed his eyes as the desert became his weapon. All he had to do was inflict as much damage as he could to the other magicians and reduce them to the same condition as the one who died. Two of the magicians turned as he approached. He gathered more sand as he ran at them. He would be a giant crushing gnats by the time he arrived to deal with them. Then he could take the Jinn from the Easterner and use it as a weapon against those in the pillars. He liked the simplicity of it. Twin beams of spells struck his sandy shell. He exploded out of his protection. He hit the ground again. He murmured a summons to provide a distraction. There was no way for him to win against both of the magicians. They knew what he could do, but he didn’t have any clue how to counter their spells at the moment. He needed to escape so he could try some other scheme to gather power. He couldn’t afford to be exposed with no power to fall back on. He hated that he had to abandon his scheme when he was so close, but if he didn’t, he would be at their mercy. His distraction arrived in a fog drifting away from the scene. He threw a screen over it with a few murmured words. Let them stop that. He limped in the opposite direction. There was no need to watch the battle. He had to get away before anyone thought to try to stop him. How long did he have before their magic reached out for him? He needed cover. He was as good as caught if he remained in the open. It was too bad about his guardians. They had been troublesome and frequently loud, but he was almost unarmed without them. He had developed them to be exemplars. Then he had lost them to a gang of motley idiots. At least one of the idiots had been killed by the Destroyer. That was a small victory considering what he had almost done. Killing one of the group was nothing. He wanted to kill them all. He looked over his shoulder. The group seemed to be having problems with his summons. He smiled. He might have the time to get away from this fiasco after all. The hand of the Destroyer started withdrawing back into the cloud between worlds. The entity in command of the Spring must have reversed the call. The overlord would not be striding across the world that day. The hunchback murmured and the ground split at his feet. He sank below the surface. He asked to be carried to the sea. That was the best he could do at the moment. He could hide among regular people until he planned his next chance at power. The Spring would move to some other place. He didn’t know where. He didn’t know when it would come back to the pillars. He could wait for another chance, or actively seek something out before his enemies caught up with him. His hovel was protected from detection. He could use that to build up his power to carry out another scheme. He didn’t know what that was yet, but he was sure he would come up with something. He had counted on calling on something with great power to get what he wanted. He had not counted on the other magicians getting in his way when he was so close. He still didn’t know how that one flying man had been able to cross the line. That should have been impossible. What kind of magic did he possess to do what he had done? He foresaw a huge amount of time researching his enemies before he could kill them in the most painful way they deserved for stopping him from harnessing the Destroyer’s godlike power. He rose out of the ground. He looked around. None of his enemies seemed close. He saw the water ahead. He had husbanded a great deal of personal power. That didn’t matter now. All that mattered was escaping to start over. He walked into the water, murmuring as he went. He sank beneath the waves. He felt for a current and stepped into it. It didn’t matter where he went as long as he escaped. Then he could plan his next move to gain the power he sought. The water pushed him away from the shore. As long as he did nothing more active than making sure he wouldn’t drown, the water should cover him until the other magicians gave up looking for him. Then he could try to get to his hovel. At least he didn’t have to worry about spending all of his power while riding the current. The sea carried him along at a rapid pace. He would not thought of moving so fast under the water. As soon as he was close enough to home, he would think about leaving his shield. 41610

The Destroyer 5000 BC- Part 2 The hunchback held the drawing up so he could use it as a comparison to the landscape he was crossing. He was close. He felt that. He just didn’t know how close he was. He didn’t try to hush the voices in his brain. They were pointing out favorable paths for him to walk. He thanked the gods they were finally proving their value to him. The last thing he needed at the moment was for his inner voices to start arguing again. He didn’t want to be the peacemaker until he could get them all harnessed together again. “I think we’re close.” He turned in a circle, with the drawing high so he could compare the picture to reality. “We’re very close.” He smiled when he saw pillars of rock sticking out of the desert. He looked at the drawing. Then he looked at the pillars. “We’re here.” He put the drawing away. Energy crackled at his feet as he touched the Spring. This would boost his power immensely once he got started. The spirits murmured for him to get started right away. Finishing the job had to be done that day. Then they could reap the reward. “Patience.” The hunchback walked to the edge of the ring. Some other magician had put the markers in place. He felt the Spring bubbling to that spot. Once he started, the energy would be used up rapidly. He needed to be ready with every tool at his disposal to make the summoning work the first time. If it didn’t, he might have to wait months, possibly years, for the Spring to renew itself in that spot. The spirits would not like having to wait because he miscued his spell work. The future would be full of whispered curses and vitriol. And he already had enough of that. He wanted them to sing his praises and respect his authority. He supposed that would be too much to demand from them. He murmured as he crossed the threshold of the ring. The Spring coursed through him. He could do his spell, but if a stronger magician arrived to stop him, the Spring would answer to the magician faster on the attack. Of course, that was why he had the spirits. They could operate for him while he did what was necessary to carry out the plan. Then he could collect his reward from the Destroyer. It would be good to have a straight back after so many years of being a freak. What would the Destroyer want in return? None of the lore suggested anything. He doubted that simple passage to Earth would be enough to assuage any demand for payment. He could worry about that when his demands were met. Trading the world for fixing his back seemed good enough for him. He turned a circle in the center of the ring. A slab of stone had been laid down as a table, or altar. Traces of prior work drifted above the slab. He didn’t see any bloodstains. He would deal with the setting and then move on to work his own spell. “Yes, I know.” He shook his head. Of course, he had to make the proper marks and write the nonexistent words that were required. “I think I know a little better than you.” He had trapped them. What did they know about the things he was capable of as a summoner? He definitely was going to check everything before he empowered the spell. He didn’t want to open the door a little, and then get sucked in through the opening to what lay on the other side. He doubted it would be a desert. Other places had their own laws. He doubted any place that housed something like the Destroyer would operate like Earth did. He had to be ready to close the door if he couldn’t make an arrangement with the other land’s king. Of course, the Destroyer may be so powerful that once the door was open, there might be no closing it. He might be dooming humanity without getting his back fixed at all. He was willing to take that chance. Humanity would just have to suffer if he was wrong. He doubted his spirits would serve him well in the face of overwhelming power. He expected them to try to break their locks, and only fight when they saw they would die with him if they did nothing. He smiled at their yammering. Soon he would be able to rework the various contracts that held his servants in place. He expected a lot of anger to express itself as he went about his business. He would call the Destroyer. Then he would have the body he wanted with a part of the world to match. And he might be able to silence the spirits in his mind by fully absorbing them into his being. Their intellects would be gone as they became engines of power he could use at will. And his head would only have his own voice in it instead of sharing it like he did now. He looked at the dimensions of the ring. The gate would be smaller than he liked, but he still had enough room to work with by his calculations. It was time to start creating the diagram that he needed to have to summon the Destroyer to Earth. Then he could keep it bound until he got what he wanted from the spirit. He saw a life of luxury ahead for him. No more drudgery, luck charms, or hovels. A castle would be the start of his rise. Anyone who survived the coming of the Destroyer would have to depend on him and his skills for their protection. He drew a circle around the pillars. That would prevent anyone from stopping him while he worked. He started on the diagram, using his hand to draw in the ground on the inside of the circle. When he had finished the last letter, he drew a circle inside the words to keep the other world in its own place. He doubted the inner circle would hold against the full might of the Destroyer, but he just wanted a few minutes to talk to the fiend. He didn’t want to be the first thing destroyed when the invasion started. “You’re making a mistake.” A voice cut through his thoughts, and it wasn’t one of his. He looked around until he saw a man in robe and cloak, smoking a pipe. One eye squinted under naturally raised eyebrows as he examined the drawing in the circle. “This summons is nothing but trouble.” “Who are you to question me?” The hunchback glared at the creature standing there. It wasn’t a man. He could tell that with a glance. “No one important.” The stranger waved a hand. “I’m just telling you that you shouldn’t use this incantation. It will cause a lot of trouble for a lot of people.” “I’m willing to take that risk.” The hunchback glared at the entity. “And you can’t stop me.” “There’s some people coming who can stop you,” the stranger said. He checked his pipe. He pulled a pouch of tobacco from inside his robe. He filled the pipe and put the bag away. “I let them know what you were doing.” “They won’t stop me.” The hunchback frowned at this intruder. “All I have to do is start. They are too late.” “Do you really want to kill everything in the world?” The stranger lit his pipe. “Don’t you think that’s excessive?” “As long as I get what I want, the rest is inconsequential.” The hunchback decided the entity couldn’t cross the barrier he had set up. As long as he couldn’t, then he couldn’t stop the spell. His friends were of no account. “Don’t do this,” said the stranger. “You could be dooming the world.” The hunchback started chanting. Talking to some ghost was not going to change his mind at this point. He had set his course, and he should follow it to the end. A cloud appeared over the ring as he said the words of the spell over and over. He felt the Spring respond to him, lending him strength as he worked. He smiled as he made the gestures. The diagram lit with blue fire as he sent his call across the dimensional planes. He spared a glance at his visitor as he worked. The expression he was one of resignation. The warning had been issued. Things would have to be done to stop the summoning. He saw that, but knew the entity couldn’t breach the circle. He was unstoppable. The cloud formed a disk in the air. The call had been accepted. The Destroyer was coming. A flying missile sliced through the standing stones and slammed into the hunchback. One of his spirits roared and saved him from being killed by turning his body into rock. He was still knocked out of the ring by the blow. One of his spirits caught the hunchback with a stream of wind. He floated to a stop on the ground. He smiled. His summons had gathered enough power to run on its own. All he had to do now was stall until the Destroyer arrived to defend him. The missile became a man in a light blue tunic with a green star on the shoulder strap. He landed on the desert floor with a puff of dust. He looked mildly irritated. “What are you doing, magician?” He grabbed the hunchback by the neck. “Stop this.” Sand and dirt blasted the newcomer off his feet. It buried him before he could recover from his surprise. “Why should I stop?” The hunchback smiled. “I’m getting everything I want.” He walked over to enter the circle again. Once he was back in place, he could speed up the summoning portal until it was big enough for his intended guest to arrive. He spotted more men arriving from the air. He grimaced. He should have expected others would try to stop him from his goal. He would not let them. It was time to let his spirits out to do what they liked to do best. A rumbling from the ground presaged the man in the tunic pushing out of the ground. He appeared angry about what had happened. He would be even angrier about what was going to happen next. Hideous forms erupted from the hunchback. He sank to one knee outside of his protective ring. His soldiers would have to fight for him. That was all he could do now. Without the Spring, he wasn’t strong enough to take control of the spell. He had to get back to the inside of the ring while his minions did their part. Then he could feed some of the Spring’s energy to them so they could be better defenders for him. The man with the green star was trying to fight his way through a mobile avalanche that kept trying to bury him. Two magicians tried to disperse a walking fire and a shark made out of water. Every time they did, the creatures reformed and returned to the attack. A jinn fought his air spirit. The jinn’s master and a whirling tower of edges swung swords at each other with the steady clanging of metal on metal. The last man seemed ordinary enough, shooting arrows into the goblin maker the hunchback used to make instant armies at his command. He murmured a spell to get through the protective line. He realized the green star man had not used magic to break the line. He didn’t know what was going on with that one, but he didn’t have time to speculate. He had to get inside and take over the Spring so his spirits could do what he needed them to do. And these meddlers would be the first ones given to the Destroyer when he arrived. He heard a hum. He looked up. The cloud that marked where the borders touched expanded as it pulled more of the Spring’s energy into the sky. This was what he wanted. The Destroyer was coming and no one could stop it. He hadn’t counted on these meddlers, but it didn’t matter. He was going to win this duel. “There’s still time for you to stop.” The entity stood outside the circle. “You can write this off and do something else.” “It is not my concern what the Destroyer does with the rest of you as long as he fixes my body as he agreed.” The hunchback glared at the spirit. “If I were you, I would get away from here before he arrives and crushes you.” “If you were me, you wouldn’t be doing this in the first place.” The spirit raised a hand. He pressed that hand against the shield granted by the protective circle. “It’s time, and I won.” The hunchback pointed at the expanding cloud above. A giant ivory hand reached out of the cloud. “Now you will know what it means to cross me.” 39,955

Razor Back This obese shirtless waddler of doom seems laughable until he uses his special power which is to shoot the hair on his back like exploding darts at his victims. CES

They had a vote and they are moving ahead on debating which plan they want to use to repeal the ACA CES

Attacked near the West Bank, mutilated, then transformed into a monster, 15 year old Israeli Benjamin Boze just wants his life back. He knows he will never get it back as long as he has to live as the Rag, and make bodies out of nearby cloth. CES

Vladimir Pushkin used to be the world's most powerful telekinetic. He could reshape matter, fly, blow things up with their internal motion, baseline teleportation of targets, and a host of other major powers. Pushkin was electrocuted and partially lobotomized in a battle with vigilantes and state heroes when he tried to reshape Kiev to his own desires. Vladimir Pushkin used to be the world's most powerful telekinetic but now all he can do is push things away from him at escape velocity. All he can do is Push. CES

Gabby Giffords D-Arizona. She had to retire from office. The NC Democratic office. 2010. CES

Destroyer 5000bc- part 1 “Yes, I know I need exactly the right spot.” The hunchback held his collection of scrolls to his chest. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” He paused as if listening. Then his lined face twisted in anger. “I know what I am doing.” The hunchback paused. “I don’t need you to keep talking to me about it. I just need to find the right place. Once I touch the Spring, I will be able to activate the rest of the words.” He started walking again. “Yes, the way will be clear for the Destroyer to arrive.” The hunchback walked until he arrived at the city’s harbor. He ignored the various styles, languages, and foreigners. He had a place next to a warehouse. Once he was home, he could divine where he needed to go to carry out the rest of his bargain. The Destroyer would spare him as the summoner. He would have some sort of leverage to keep his part of the Earth as it was. The rest would be gutted and shaped to whatever means the otherworldly force wanted. That didn’t bother the hunchback. The only thing that mattered was that he got what he wanted out of the deal. If the rest of humanity suffered and died, so what? They should have spent years learning how to do summonings and dismissals. Then they could try to stop the Destroyer when he arrived with his army. He set the scrolls on a stand. He settled in his favorite cloth chair. He didn’t remember where he had gotten the chair, but it helped him with the curve of his spine. He needed that relief for a second as he tried to think of his next move. He decided the best thing to do was try to draw a map. That might give him a clue which way he should go to harness the Spring. “Yes, I know what’s at stake.” He jumped from his chair. “I’m doing the best I can. The last time the Destroyer was summoned, it required an army of magicians. I’m only one man. Be patient.” He exhaled a breath. The spirits inside him didn’t want to give him a moment’s peace. He needed them to work their power to his own ends, but he hated their demands. If he did the wrong thing, he could turn his being into a torch that would burn a millennium. He refused to ruin his chance for a better body because his allies didn’t appreciate the limits on his ability. It was better to be slow and methodical than rushing and stabbing yourself with your own stylus. And his methods had worked for him so far. The hunchback decided to spend the rest of the night reading. Once he was sure the scrolls held what he wanted, he could move to the next step. Then he probably had to arrange for traveling. He doubted the spot he wanted to use would be in the city where he was. That would make things too easy. And the city had a protector whose responsibility was stopping people like him doing the thing he planned to do. He didn’t need a duel with another magician before he put his plan into mission. He had a great deal of personal power but he doubted it would be useful against another magician with equal skill. He prepared a dinner of bread and cheese before he began his reading. He had a barrel of rainwater to drink from. He dipped out a cup from the wooden cask. He spread out the first scroll and went over it while he ate. He didn’t learn anything from the writing. He moved to the next one, and then the third. The fourth one gave him a clue on how to work the portal. The fifth one mentioned the ritual he wanted to perform. He found measurements, effects, and what could be expected when the spell worked. The spell didn’t state what would happen if the Destroyer was successfully summoned. He expected the name of the creature was usually enough to warn off practitioners that should know better. He didn’t really care about that. Once his task was done, then he could walk without pain for once. “All right.” He rolled the scrolls up and placed them on the stand. “Everything looks like it’s possible. I just need a power location to get started. I am going to try to divine one, then get some sleep. After that, I will try to find the place, and arrange transportation.” He held up a hand at unheard exclamations. He waited for silence. “There’s no way I will be able to do this as rapidly as you want.” He gestured at his body with mismatched hands. “Look at me. It will be an act of the gods if I can reach the place of power without dying on the way. I understand how you feel, but you will have to wait.” He listened to the air. He ground his teeth together. He had made a mistake absorbing these spirits into his mind. He should have put them in an artifact that he could use at will without having to listen to them. “Enough.” The hunchback shouted to the empty room. “I have decided our course. I need you to think about how you can help me in the projected future that I have laid out.” He sat in his chair. He shut his mismatched eyes. Maybe he should sleep first before he tried to find where he needed to go to do the ritual. The muttering of rebellion and betrayal decided him. He had to at least try with the writing. Then they would allow him to sleep for a bit. He hoped he was ready to carry the spell out. If he failed, they would chew at his mind until he did something that he would regret later. He should have really tried to confine them to artifacts instead of carrying them around inside of him. They vexed him over which way the sun set some days. He looked over his supplies until he found a piece of vellum he could write on with a pen and ink. He spread the vellum on the table. He held the corners down with rocks he had picked up to use for that purpose. He found his bottle of ink, and a quill pen he sharpened to do what he wanted. He set them on the table. He closed his eyes as he unstoppered the bottle. He dipped the pen in the ink. He pulled the pen out. He murmured words as his hand moved the pen. He stopped when he heard a skritch from the pen. The drawing was complete when that happened. He opened his eyes and put the pen up. He studied the drawing. He exhaled. He knew that the place was represented by a circle of pillars. A sun rising meant it was east of where he was. He had to travel to a desert east of where he was. He was looking at miles of movement to get where he needed to be. “Are you happy?,” he asked the spirits. “Can I get some sleep?” He frowned at what the voices told him. “No.” He sat down in his chair. “There’s no telling where the site is. I am getting a nap before I try to find it. If it’s too far away, it might take another few years to find it for the summoning. I’m not trying to find a place strange to me without some kind of rest because you expect me to be your slave. I am your master, and I require some time before I start on the next step of the plan.” He waved the complaints away. “I need the sleep.” He closed his eyes. “I’m going to take that rest. Tomorrow will be the day I leave the city for this search. I will need to use the divination to keep us on track. I expect your help with that.” He waved aside their objections as he concentrated on getting his sleep. Having them in his body gave him vitality, and relieved some of his pain. The constant arguments on priorities angered him more than he liked. Still, he was making progress, and if there was a problem, he had the perfect sacrifices. Let another magician stand up to a spell powered by a water spirit. He would drown before he came up with the right counter. Using a spirit like that would cause it to destroy itself. It would hurt his personal power to an unknown degree. The only good side was he could use his enemy’s spirit as a replacement if he caught the magician’s last exhalation. Maybe a human spirit would be better as a source of power than inhuman spirits. He ignored his dreams as he slept. Lately, the spirits tried to invade his mind through them. It was better just to lock them away. Then when he woke up, he was back on even footing with the spirits without whatever they tried to plant in his mind to release them. He woke up in the morning, the port already bustling around his little place. It was time to pack up and try to find his destination. “Yes, yes.” He didn’t have to check his food. He didn’t have any left after his dinner the night before. He found several water bags and filled them from his barrel. He put his magick supplies in a carrying bag that he could hang from his high shoulder. The scrolls went in another bag. He held the drawing in both hands. How could it help him now? He doubted it could do much, but it should point him in the right direction. He hoped he didn’t have to go far to get to where he wanted to go. He held the drawing as he left his hovel for the last time. He held it in front of him as he walked. He found a boat that drew his sight. He held the drawing in front of the boat. It wiggled in his hands. This was the transportation that he needed. “It’s not exact.” He shook his head. He was using a drawing of a place that might not exist to decide on boarding a boat to get to that place in the hope of satisfying spirits complaining about his moves. How had his life turned out like this? He put the drawing away as he walked to the boat he wanted to travel on. If he could get on board, he could ride with it until it reached the spot he needed to go. It wasn’t perfect. That didn’t matter. He could use his spell work to secure passage, and be let off on land where he needed to go. Arranging something to carry him on land would be a different kettle of trouble in his opinion. That would take care of itself when he got to it. 37,756

Duel in the Desert 2010- Moshe Levram wondered how he had let his sister talk him into going out to the desert. Just because something was happening didn’t mean they had to look at it. And he didn’t want to explain to his father how he had let his sister go alone to get into trouble. He was her protector. Their father would look at it as a failure on his part if he let anything happen to her. He didn’t like it, but he was the elder child. And his speciality made him more capable of protecting her. Everything he grasped was geared to wards and shields. Offensive spells seemed out of his reach at the moment. “Will you come on?” Sara Levram waved her hand at her brother. “I finally have a source we can track.” “I think we should call Father, and let him deal with this.” Moshe brushed dust off of his white shirt. “We don’t have enough magick to stop a major threat.” “Don’t be mild.” Sara shook her head. Her dark curls drifted down from the band she used to tie them back. “Someone has to look. We might as well do that. If it’s too dangerous, one call to Father is easily done.” “I think you overestimate our abilities.” Moshe knew he would have to carry her home now. That would be almost impossible. “Go ahead.” Sara led the way, using the desert to carry them toward their goal. It was like skating, but sand and dirt were the ice. It was the first piece of magick she had mastered completely. And it was her favorite. The siblings drifted to a spot in the desert surrounded by pillars of rock. Moshe raised a shield instinctively against the flow of energy roiling from the sight. He put it in front of his sister to keep her back. The last thing they needed was to rush in and set off spells designed to kill them. He didn’t want to explain to his father how he had let his sister be turned into a burning cloud of ash because he was careless. A man dressed in a hooded tunic shaped something in his hands. He smiled as he worked his hands. The object seemed to be that of a weird looking dog. “How cute.” Sara didn’t keep her voice down. “It’s a golem.” The magician stood in the circle, putting the last touches on his creation, as he looked for the source of the voice. The energy around the pillars faded as he wrote the last charm on his dog’s back. Moshe felt a piece of magick hit his shield. He knew it was a sensory spell. He hadn’t made his shield as a cloak. The other magician saw him and his sister, and knew they were gifted thanks to his spell. “We have to get out of here.” Moshe grabbed his sister and started pulling as he backed up. “This guy doesn’t want witnesses.” Energy gathered in the site as Moshe half-carried Sara from the rocks. He didn’t know what was going to be unleashed, and he didn’t want to find out. He expanded his shield and thickened the parts facing behind him as he ran. He didn’t know what the other man specialized in, but he assumed charms. That meant he needed physical things to work magick. That might be something they could use against him if they had to turn and fight. He didn’t plan to turn and fight unless he was trapped in some dead end with no way out. “We should stay and fight.” Sara punched her brother’s shoulder. “We can take this guy. He only has one golem.” Something exploded against Moshe’s shield. They flew through the air. Smoke trailed behind them until they hit the ground. “What was that?” Sara brushed off some of the ash on her brown blouse. “That was your golem.” Moshe got to his feet. He looked at the pillars. Glowing dogs rushed forward with mouths open and ears back. “We’re dead.” Moshe flung up walls at a distance from them. Some of the dogs hit the shields and blew up. The spells shattered under the force. Most went around, threading the spaces between the walls. Nothing was going to stop them from eliminating the snoopers in a fiery glow. “Not yet.” Sara raised her hands. She called on her magick to bring the desert alive. It was temporary, but the word written on the ground produced columns of fists that punched their enemies into exploding oblivion. “More of them are coming.” Moshe flung up a wall in front of the pillars. Maybe that would keep them from coming long enough for him and Sara to get out of there. His wall blew apart almost instantly. More of the dogs drifted from the pillars. They growled in unison once they saw the siblings. They started running across the desert. “As long as he’s in there, he can create as many of those things as he wants.” Sara flung a word at the pillars. The piece of magic ripped apart before it could do anything. “And it shields him from us.” “I figured that.” Moshe formed a rotating circle of walls to keep the dogs from rushing them. “Fighting retreat. This is out of our league.” “You’re right.” Sara looked at a piece of high ground in the distance. “Get ready to move.” “Do what you’re going to do.” Moshe formed a bubble around them as his wall went down one section at a time as the dogs gave up their lives to kill them. Sara grabbed his arm and pulled. They slid across the desert toward the rock in the distance. Let the beasts climb up after them if they could. The hill pulled them up to the top in front of the exploding dogs. The beasts paused as they tried to think of a way to get up at the siblings. They finally decided to circle the base of the rock like sharks. “They can explode all they want down there.” Sara smiled. “I wonder what the charm maker will do now.” “Don’t tempt fate.” Moshe looked around. “We need another spot to run to when this one is broken.” “There’s another rock over there.” Sara nodded at the outcrop in the desert. “We can bust through their lines and retreat to there.” “More trouble.” Moshe pointed to a man crossing the desert. “I told you we should have left this to Father. Now we have two magicians to deal with.” “Maybe he’s not friends with our charm maker.” Sara squinted at the man walking toward them. “He’s strong. I can see his energy wrapping around him.” The dogs ran from the hill. They headed right for the man in black. He paused to assess the attack. Then he caught the lead dog and manipulated it with his hands. He held a staff made from the spellwork. He drove it into the ground. The dogs exploded against the shield made from their pointer. The shield just grew stronger the more dogs it touched. “Did you see that?,” Sara smiled. “He’s not with the charm maker.” “He’s not with us either.” Moshe relaxed despite himself. Maybe an adult could settle this better than he could. The man in the black walked to the base of their rock. He wore a long buttoned coat, trousers, wingtips, and gloves. The collar of his coat concealed the lower part of his face. Sunglasses covered the rest. A hat topped the assemblage. Moshe didn’t like the fact he couldn’t see ears from where he sat on the rock. That couldn’t be a good sign. “Hello, children.” The man in black gazed at the pillars. Moshe didn’t like that he couldn’t see the back of the man’s head. “What’s going on here?” “This guy was making a charm and I guess he didn’t like us seeing him do that.” Sara pointed at the pillars. “I’m Sara, and this is Moshe. That was a great piece of magic you did. I don’t think I have seen anything like it.” “Just some word work.” The man in black started toward the pillars. “Stay out of the way. This next part could be a little tricky.” “The thing only makes exploding dogs from what we’ve seen.” Moshe hoped this newcomer knew what he was doing. At least he was making himself a target so the charm maker wouldn’t chase the Levrams. “I saw.” The man in black strolled along. “I’m sure he has other tricks up his sleeve.” “What’s your name?” Sara scrambled to get off the rock to follow him. “Memphis.” The man in black held his hat on as he walked toward the eldritch display that was almost lighting up the real world. “I always liked that city.” “America, or Egypt?,” Moshe whispered to his sister. “Maybe both.” Sara smiled at him. “This is a good guy. I can feel it.” “He feels like a ghost to me.” Moshe frowned at her. “He could be just as much a danger as the other man.” “He isn’t.” Sara hit the ground. “Come on. We need to see this. This might be our first real duel.” “We could be running for help.” Moshe exhaled with the knowledge he was talking to himself. He dropped down on a spongy bubble and ran after his sister. The last thing they needed was to watch real magicians duel in the desert. Moshe caught Sara as Memphis pushed into the aura around the pillars. He took her arm and pulled her back behind a shield. The last thing he needed was for her to get caught in a backlash from the elder magicians battling. “Can we talk?” Memphis gestured with a hand. “I see you’ve tapped into the Spring here. What do you plan to do with your creations?” “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” The charm maker had a cat in his hands. The statue of the dog hung from his belt. “I have been waiting for years to use this spot to empower myself. It will be years before it’s active again. No suit of clothes is going to get in my way when I finally have the resources to change the world to something I want.” “That’s an interesting expression of intent.” Memphis seemed to be smiling but it was hard to tell since he didn’t have an exposed face. “How are you going to do that against the other magicians and organizations that like the world the way it is.” “I will wipe them out.” The charm maker glared at his enemy. “I will take control of the Spring and there will be nothing they can do about it.” “Okay.” Memphis snickered. “You couldn’t stop two kids. You don’t have a chance against real magicians.” “Shut up.” The charm maker held up his cat. A tiger erupted from the sand. “This is what will happen to the other magicians that get in my way.” Memphis punched the tiger in the face. His gloved hand came out the other side. The tiger collapsed to the ground. “I was killing simulacrum before you were born.” Memphis shook his gloved hand. “I think you should give up your magic.” “Never.” The charm maker touched his dog. Replicas surrounded him as guards. “Punch these.” Memphis kicked the ground. A wave of dirt rolled over the dogs. They blew up under the cascade before they could charge away from their master. The charm maker went down with his lower legs blasted apart. He tried not to scream. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Memphis didn’t sound all that concerned by the damage he had wrecked on his opponent. “Imagine how bad things would be for you if I weren’t here to help you.” Gloved hands took the cat and dog and reshaped them into a mask. He fitted the mask to his face, shaping it over his head. He nodded when he was done. “Now, let’s see what happens when we try to put your legs back together.” Memphis fitted the stumps back together. “You might experience some pain.” The flesh knitted together in the rags of brown pants. The charm maker screamed as everything came together in a series of clicks, rips, and a sewing machine clank. “That was awesome.” Sara ran into the circle of pillars. “What word did you use to do that?” Moshe frowned. They were standing at dagger range with a magician better than they were. If he decided to take them out too, no shield was going to stop him for longer than a few seconds. “I don’t use words.” Memphis’s mask smiled down at her. “I use waves.” “Waves?” Sara frowned. “How?” “I’ll kill you all,” said the charm maker. He raised a hand. “Sleep,” commanded Sara. A rune wrote itself on the man’s forehead. His eyes closed and he snored. “Every magician has to have a speciality.” Memphis held up his hands. A ribbon danced between the palms. “Mine is waves, and streams.” “Mine is words.” Sara smiled. “That’s great.” He closed his hands together. He pulled them away from each other. Words danced between them. “All I can do is fields.” Moshe looked down at his own hand. A bubble sat in the palm. “Is that all I can do with what I have?” “You can expand beyond that.” Memphis closed his hands together and then pulled them apart. A bubble sat between the palms. “Bubbles just make it easier for you to work your magic. More experience will let you branch out.” “Okay.” Moshe popped the bubble in his hand. “What about this guy?” “He should be imprisoned in a normal prison but no court would believe he was guilty.” Memphis looked up. “It’s better that he goes to sleep for a while. When he wakes up, you’ll be able to deal with him if I can’t be here.” Memphis summoned the natural power around him. He pushed the charm maker into a coffin of glass. The ground opened up and the coffin sank out of sight. “He’ll be back in a few years.” The man in black started walking from the ring. “You might want to practice harder to get ready for him.” 35,914

Not part of the project, but done: Into the Woods. CES

i started the Argonauts, so I'll step aside for anyone else who has a team handy. CES

The hero known as the Electric Rat is a miniature powerhouse who is blinding fast and capable of throwing lightning bolts at anyone in his way. CES

Zek (Zero) is a victim of experiments with quantum tunneling. He is a two-dimensional shape that can place himself against any surface and open a path to the other side of that surface. He was kept in a water tank where the water was kept agitated to keep him from applying himself fully and escaping. Once the others were free, his tank was damaged and he easily escaped. CES

Obviously you have different worlds where Captain America and Shield fight Hydra and affiliates, Spiderman/Woman/Gwen fight animal based villains, Iron Man takes on other super science types, The X-Men battle the government, hate groups, and mutant villians, the FF battle super science, weird places, and aliens, and Dr. Strange puts down mystic menaces. Then you fit guys like Ghost Rider, Daredevil, and other B, C, D list heroes and villains into the worlds that suit them. CES

Crenshaw 1670- Bloody Bill Crenshaw smiled as he noted sails on the horizon. The rumors had been true. A treasure ship headed for Spain was on the sea. He didn’t know if that was the same ship as the one he wanted, but it was sailing in the right direction. And his ship was fast enough to catch any other ship on the open water. He knew it. His crew knew it. Now that he had a boat sighted, all he had to do was lay out sail and run it down. “Ready the cannons, Henry.” Crenshaw took a sighting with his telescope. “I want to be ready to shoot the sails as soon as we close. Then we should ready a broadside, for our second shot once we have what we want.” Henry shouted orders for the crew as he advanced down the deck from his captain. Boarding actions would be bloody. The men had to be ready with flintlocks and swords to do away with their victims. The captain believed in no survivors. Anyone captured would be thrown overboard to any shark that followed the blood trail across the Atlantic. They would sail to a friendly port and offload the cargo for as much as they could get for it. Henry had seen a number of actions under Captain Bloody Bill Crenshaw. He had no doubt this one would run exactly as all the others. The captain’s reputation had spread far and wide. Once they ran the colors, the Spanish would probably give up and beg for mercy. Crenshaw wouldn’t give them any except a blade to the neck, or a swim with the fish. He tended to keep the women longer, but eventually they also were killed. Henry watched as the men performed their tasks. They also knew what would happen if they didn’t perform as well as the captain wanted. A blade in the guts was the least horrible thing he might do. “We’re ready to shoot with three of the cannons, Mr. Henry,” said Boynton, the cannon master. “They’re loaded with grape. The other six are ready to shoot through the keel on the Captain’s order.” “Right, Bob.” Henry nodded. “I have to make sure the boarding crew is ready. As soon as we get close enough, tear the sails down.” “We’ll be ready.” Boynton nodded. “You have my word on that.” Henry nodded before gathering a gang of sailors that weren’t needed doing anything else as the Cloud Shark closed on its intended victim. They were already measuring out lengths of rope and securing grapnels. Two men were loading flintlocks and handing them out. They were single shot, but a volley might be enough to overwhelm a defense long enough for blades to be used. The rest depended on luck and skills. Once they were on the other ship, they would either secure it, or lose. They had no choice. The captain would be behind them, ready to shoot anyone who tried to retreat from a bigger force. Bloody Bill had earned his nom de guerre handily. And his reputation was such that he could inspire men to walk to their own execution rather than face him in a duel. Henry readied his boarders at the rails. Once they were side by side, the hooks had to be thrown to secure both ships together. Then they would jump the rails to board. “Run the colors,” shouted the Captain. He stood in the bow, telescope to his eye. The Cloud Shark’s black flag ran up the mast. A white shark smiled on it with jagged teeth. Anyone who saw that flag knew they weren’t long for this world. The banner was as famous as the Captain. Crenshaw spread stories when he was in port to build its reputation. Scaring people so they made mistakes was better than letting them think they could fight back. Henry had been a part of a few boarding actions that had not gone the way they should have. Losing an ear had caused him to be more cautious than the average outlaw they had onboard. “Ready the cannons!,” ordered the Captain. His shout was relayed to Boynton down in the hold. “Ready the lines!” Henry stood at the rail. This should be an easy raid. He held a flintlock in his hand. He liked to shoot the enemy captain before the man could rally his sailors to repulse the boarders. The Cloud Shark closed on the ship. Henry waited patiently for the two ships to get close enough so he could get started with his part of the job. The Maria Santos glowed on the stern. A man stood in the stern watching the approaching pirates. Henry didn’t like the way he seemed to be smiling at them as they closed together. What did the man think was going to happen when they got close enough to board? He would be the first man fed to the sharks. The Spaniard pulled a length of rope from his belt. He had a hook tied to one end. He started spinning the hook as he watched the pirates close. Then he flung the hook directly at the bow of the Shark. It hooked to the rail with that one throw. Henry ran toward the bow. They had planned to board the other boat, but it looked like their prey planned to board them first. One shot should fix that problem. The other man swung from his boat toward the Shark. He pulled himself up the line as he flew through the air. He landed against the hull with both feet planted. Then he punched through the hull with his fist. Henry paused. Wood fell into the ocean as the Spaniard plunged into the hold of the ship. Then he heard screaming from below. This was wrong. What should he do? “What was that?” Crenshaw headed for the ladder to the hold. He held a brace of pistols in his hands as he ran across the deck. He couldn’t allow his reputation to be ruined by one man. A man screamed below decks. The sound made Henry pause as he tried to join his captain. Crenshaw hurried down the ladder after tucking one of the pistols away. He would deal with this boarder who didn’t know his place. Henry ran to the top of the ladder. He tucked his pistol away in his sash, and slid down the ladder. He waited for his vision to adjust to the dark before he did anything else. Boynton slammed into the deck beside him and lay there. The Spaniard appeared with a white sword in his hand. It glowed like lightning. He blocked Crenshaw’s blade while punching another man in the face. The sailor went down without a working jaw. Henry pulled his flintlock. He needed to get rid of this man so they could get back to raiding their victim. They would have to move the crew to the other boat with the hole in the bow. It was a miracle they hadn’t started taking on water yet. That wouldn’t last long if they ran into rough seas. Henry pulled the trigger on the flintlock. An explosion of smoke sent the ball at his enemy. The man stepped out of the way, slicing the captain across the chest as he moved. Crenshaw fell back from the slash, blood running down his shirt. “I have been looking for the famous Captain Crenshaw for some time.” The Spaniard advanced across the deck, sword glowing in his hand. “You have murdered many, and I can’t allow that to continue.” Henry pulled his sword and tried to slash this enemy. The captain could defend himself. What would happen to the first mate if he didn’t try to do something? “You are in my way.” The Spaniard blocked the cut, directing the blade away from his body. His other hand came up as he spun. Henry went down from the slap. “El Rey doesn’t have time for you today.” Crenshaw tried to stab his enemy in the back. That was the proper way of dealing with enemies. The Spaniard, El Rey, spun to let the point of the blade pass by. He kicked the pirate in the chest. Bloody Bill landed close to the hole in the bow. He looked out for a moment at the sea lapping at the edge of the hole. He scrabbled for his sword. He couldn’t lose now. “I have been looking for you for a long time, Capitan Crenshaw.” El Rey kicked the ladder from the upper deck. Some of the crew fell to the deck. He kicked them out of the way so he could keep advancing. “I don’t understand.” Crenshaw grasped his sword and levered himself to his feet. “I don’t know you. What’s this about?” “I have been commissioned to kill pirates.” El Rey flicked the white blade he carried. A scar on his forehead was a lightning bolt in reflected light. “You have been raiding for a time. Once I put a stop to you, I can move on to others.” “You think I will be beaten that easily?” Crenshaw drew his pistol and fired in one swift motion. He heard the ball ricochet, but hadn’t been able to follow its flight with his eyes. “I don’t see why not.” El Rey advanced. “I’ve killed so many. One more won’t matter to me now.” Crenshaw and El Rey exchanged blows with their swords slicing the air as they moved. The pirate tried to get away from the hole in the bow of his ship. He didn’t want to be pushed into the water. Fins were cruising the surface as he watched. Crenshaw charged forward, hoping to bull through his opponent. A fist stopped that. Then he felt the bones in his face twist slightly. Pain shot from the boot print on his face. “Adios, Capitan.” El Rey grabbed the pirate and slung him through the hole into the water beyond. The sharks outside went into a frenzy as Crenshaw fell into their midst. His blood from his wound attracted them to him. Then they began to bite and tear. El Rey pulled his sword down the deck as he walked to the rear of the hold. He had to get back above to the main deck before he went into the water with the pirates. Crenshaw’s disappearance would be a mystery to the rest of the world. Only he and his crew would know why the attacks had ceased. He climbed the ladder as the hull separated behind him. He leaped on the top deck and looked around. What remained of the crew looked at him in anger. His ship floated next to the soon to be scuttled pirate ship with riflemen on deck and cannon ready to fire. El Rey smiled at the pirates as he walked to the rail. He leaped over the gap to his own deck. He waved the man at the wheel to steer away from the Cloud Shark. His job was done, or soon would be thanks to the sharks in the water. He watched as the Cloud Shark slowly coasted under. The men went to dinghies and dropped them into the water. They unshipped oars and began rowing away from the sinking craft, and the Spanish ship. Maybe they could make it to a shore and live. It was a chance. Certain death was what waited for them if they stayed with the Shark. Fins followed the little boats as they made their way from the scene. “Should we sink them, sir?” Juan Hernandez, the first mate of the Maria Santos, looked at the escaping boats. “No. I want to see how many return to being pirates after this.” The King smiled. 33,527

M-37's First Flight 1997- Shirou Mirota pointed an index finger at a cardboard target. The target blew up. He worked his way down a line of targets that flipped up when he approached. He paused when he thought he had blown up the last one. He felt a little more normal despite his increase in ability. The coating the Institute had developed seemed to be working as intended. A few minutes of blowing things up on the target range and he hadn’t sprung a leak yet. And the sensors hadn’t sounded the alarm. That meant he was safe at his current expenditure of power. His new biology made it difficult to judge, but he felt like he had jogged a mile. He wondered how long he could keep shooting beams of fire before he actually exceeded a limit. At least inside the Institute, he would know when he was a danger to others. If he sprung a leak, an alarm would go off. Then sprayers would drop a chemical radiation absorber on him. Then all he had to do was wait for a mobile room to take him back to his quarters. He might be able to get some sleep if this kept up. It might be nice to dream again. His new condition had eliminated the desire and need to sleep, food ingestion, and most normal bodily functions. The lab people suspected that was because of the metal and energy conduits buried in his body. It was hard to be hungry when your heart was a nuclear battery guaranteed to run for another two hundred years. He briefly wondered what he could do when his battery eventually ran out of power. Another target popped up in his face. His hand came up. The target blew apart under the heat wave he generated. Shirou paused. Then he looked around. Hopefully, no one had noticed the blast. He needed to work on that. He didn’t want to throw around enough power to cut through the range. That might hit someone in some other part of the building. He didn’t want to kill someone on top of everything else he was trying to fix. A siren went off. He looked around. What was going on? What should he do? Did something need to be blasted? “Emergency teams report to launch pads.” Misa sounded panicked over the PA system. “We have had a major earthquake. Emergency teams report to launch pads.” Shirou frowned. At one time, he would have been grabbing gear and running to the pads. The Institute responded to major disasters all over the country, and he would have been in the middle of the action. Now he was stuck in the building, hoping that his makeover wouldn’t cause him to blow up if he was stressed enough. He walked to the exit. Maybe he could use this as cover so he could get out in the field again. It might be good to get his hands dirty again after spending so much time trapped in his room. All he had to do was get out of the building and fly to the disaster area. He decided it was a lot easier to think of doing it, then it would be in doing since Security would want him to stay put. He thought he could punch through them if he wanted. The problem was he didn’t want to do anything like that. They would be in the right. His power was largely untested, and one wrong move could have him spilling radiation on anyone and anything close to him. Maybe he could join the crews heading for the helicopters. He would have to be fast and blend in until they reached the scene. Shirou decided to take the stairs to the hangar level. He flew up the six levels and paused by the door. He put in his code to open the door to get on the floor. The large doors were sliding open to let the aircraft hover up and then head toward the emergency. He noted several people were pointing at him. He had to do something if he wanted to get free. He looked up at the exit. Then he was gone from the hangar in a blast of wind. Shirou smiled. Dr. Yamada would not like his violating the safety guidelines. He would deal with that when he had to. Now he needed to find out where the disaster was and see what he could do to help out. He should have taken the time to find out those facts before taking to the air. He flew toward the city. The Institute’s grounds were outside the city, but within sight. He knew there was a news feed running on some of the signs in the shopping areas. He just had to find one, and see where this earthquake was. Then he could fly down to see if he could lend a hand. Shirou found the Sony large screen right where it had sat before his self-exile. He landed on the sidewalk in front of it and watched as news unfurled in front of him. Three minutes in, the broadcaster talked about the heavy destruction in Kochi. It was miles to the southwest of Tokyo, the Institute’s base city. How fast could he fly? That was a question he had never really asked himself. How fast could this new form go in the sky? He looked to the southwest. The Institute and the DF would be on the way to the area. Could he beat them? Did he want to? Shirou smiled. Yes, he did want to beat them to the scene. He headed into the sky. He willed himself to go faster. He passed the Institute, and kept going. Helicopters were in the sky ahead of him. He went around them instead of tearing through their formation. He didn’t want them to crash just because he had slipped his leash. He reached Kochi a few seconds later. He hovered over the scene, trying to figure out where he could start. Several buildings had collapsed around what looked like a fissure. He decided the best thing he could do was try to move some of the debris away from the town. People might have been trapped in the collapses. The faster he could dig them out, the less other rescuers had to do. He landed quietly beside a mound of rubble. He wished he had super senses to go with the rest of the powers the liquid had given him. Too bad a x-ray machine had not been in the room when he had been forcibly transformed. He decided that out of the options he had, blasting everything was out. He didn’t want to cause a collapse on someone waiting for rescue, or blow them up. That left his strength and physically moving things with his hands, or the gravity control he used for flight. Gravity seemed the safest to use until an expert showed up to give him a more efficient way of doing things. Shirou concentrated. Rubble floated upward. He worked his way around the closest pile until he had a majority orbiting a central gravity. He found some people at the bottom of the pit. He smiled when one of them took in a breath. He moved his wrecked building to a cleared spot and gently put it down. He pulled the wounded from the excavation with his power before setting them down out of the way. He headed for the next pile of rock to start excavating there. People were on the scene, trying to help him. He waved for them to move back. He didn’t want to lose control over the gravity and hurt them or anyone buried under the ground. One wrong move could bury someone under a unknown weight with no way of digging them back up. He didn’t need that on his conscience to go with whatever risks he was undertaking just being there. The helicopters arrived as he worked his way through another pile. Dr. Yamada jumped from his vehicle before it could settle on its skids. He held a Gieger counter in his hand. It barely registered anything in the air. “What are you doing?” Yamada placed the counter on the ground. “I am digging up anyone buried that I can.” Shirou moved his turning ring over to another area and let go. Hopefully, his powers were making a difference. “How big an effect can you do with your powers?” Yamada glanced at the counter. Everything was normal according to it. “I don’t know.” Shirou looked around. How much could he move at one time? He had never thought how much he could move at one time. Maybe he could move everything at once. “Workers are coming in to help us.” Yamada noted the helicopters. “Can you move all of this rubble to a safe spot as you’ve been doing with the smaller piles?” “I don’t know.” Shirou held up his hands. “I think you might want to clear the area while I try.” Shirou closed his eyes and concentrated. He had never tried to expand his powers over such a large scale before. He might break himself in the attempt. Dr. Yamada was right. He had to work better than what he had been doing. He felt energy running through his body as he tried to clear his head. He could do this. He could move everything. He was a star. Everything shaped itself to his bidding. He smiled at the energy activating from his battery heart. He opened his eyes. Why was everything so small? He raised a hand and compared it to a nearby building. He was a giant. He closed his hand. He was a giant, and he still had a job to do. He just had to be more careful than what he had planned to be. Could he move everything? Yes, he could. 31,561

Testing for M-37 1996- “Good morning, Shirou.” Dr. Yamada walked into the secured room. He wore a protective suit and helmet. His subject still leaked radiation in the air a year after his unwanted transformation. The Institute was still trying to find a way to stop that so he could be safe to be around. No one wanted to work with a source of cancer and poisoning. “You said you had some things to tell me.” Shirou Mirota hovered off the floor, sitting on the air. Shields covered his eyes, while the protective suit he had worn when he penetrated the sample sphere from the Ninety Two Rampage had become his second skin. “We think we have a way to block your radiation leak so you can go outside for limited times.” Yamada sat down on the floor. Chairs and other furniture were absent from the room. Shirou didn’t need them, and didn’t want them since his body slowly cooked them away. No one wanted a reminder they weren’t human anymore. “Seriously?” Shirou grinned. “How do you plan to do that?” “We believe that we have devised a coating that we can use as a cover on you.” Yamada placed his hands together. “We don’t know how effective it would be, but felt it would allow you to leave this room and not kill everything around you.” “When do you want to test this coating?” Shirou already saw several flaws in the plan. He decided to file them while the experiment went ahead. He was ready to leave his unwanted home to do anything but stare at the same four walls day after day. Even reading, or watching televison, or trying to find things on the Internet, was governed by a screen set up behind a protective shield so he didn’t fry the circuits trying to use it. Waldos enabled him to manipulate what he was looking at without allowing him to leave the heavy shielding of his room. It would be nice to see the world with his own eyes again. “We are making the first batch downstairs.” Dr. Yamada nodded at his expression. “It might need some fine-tuning and testing in controlled areas, but we are confident that we can make you safe around other people.” “What about the rest of this?” Shirou indicated his body with a wave of his hand. “Can you reverse any of this?” “We don’t know.” Yamada wanted to have a more comforting assessment of his employee’s welfare. All of the experts he had consulted had no clue on how to reverse the alchemy performed on Morita. “Dr. Haas’s workings are indecipherable. Dr. Craft and others are searching for him, but he has kept his head down after what he did here.” Dr. Craft led the Robot Rangers. Shirou had met him and his mechanical minions when they had arrived to save the city. He made it seem like he and Haas were old enemies. How long had they been feuding before the apartment building man had come to life? “The thing made me into a monster.” Shirou glowed slightly. “If you hadn’t arrived with that gravity gun, I would be a mindless thing attacking everyone around me.” “You aren’t.” Yamada frowned. “The focus has to be on making you better with what we have. We know that the holy water damaged the shell and the liquid that was transforming you, but it doesn’t do anything to you the way you are now. We know that you can fly, are strong, and release radiation. Some of the scientists that are helping with this coat think you can learn how to turn the radiation into some kind of controlled beam.” “They think I can fry something on demand?” Shirou raised eyebrows. “Like some kind of laser beam shooting out of my eyes.” “They think so.” Yamada nodded. “The question is one of control. There might be a process inside of you that allows that. I might have destroyed the control when I used the gravity gun.” “So what do they expect me to do?,” asked Shirou. “I don’t know.” Dr. Yamada shook his head. “I don’t want you to do anything until we apply the coating and see if the base does anything. Then if you want to experiment, we’ll have some kind of dampener in place.” “Do you think this will work?” Shirou didn’t. He didn’t know what the source of his radiation was, but he doubted any coating would stop it. “I don’t know.” Yamada stood. “I do know that you are in a prison and could have mental problems unless we do something. So I am going to try to do something for you. If it helps others in the same circumstances, that is just a bonus as far as I am concerned.” “I understand.” Shirou nodded. Dr. Yamada and his people worked on strange mysteries. They had found some answers. Those answers had been used to stop other problems from other sources. This was one of those things that could be used for a lot of things that people would never know about unless it failed in some way. If cutting his effect down worked, they could use it other places to mitigate radiation problems. The door buzzed. Yamada went over and looked through the glass into the airlock outside the door. He nodded. “I’m going to open the door and let the others in,” said Dr. Yamada. “Then we are going to apply the coating and see what the base does on contact with you.” “Go ahead.” Shirou waved a hand. “I want to see what this does.” Yamada opened the door. Two technicians entered the room. One wheeled a tank with a hose on a dolly. The other had a cart of sensory equipment. They both wore full suits to prevent a lethal dose of poisoning from their subject. “Recording the base setting.” The technician at the controls flipped some switches, looked at the numbers and the graphs rolling out on strings of paper. “This is way too high.” “Applying the coating.” The other technician pointed the hose on the tank at Shirou. He turned the knob all the way open, then pulled the trigger-handle to let the paint out. Shirou barely felt the impact. He turned under the spray. He sank to the floor as the coating stuck to him, a few streaks dropping to the metal surface. He felt cooler. “I feel better.” Shirou lifted his arms as more of the paint fell on him. “I feel almost normal.” “The temperature and rads are dropping.” The sensory equipment showed flatter lines on its output. “Pour it all on?” The first technician checked the gauge on the tank as he kept the stream of liquid flowing. “Yes.” Yamada nodded inside his helmet. “We want him completely covered so we can see if this is working as planned.” Shirou closed his eyes. The coat seemed to be cooling him off as it cut the radiation from the room. He might be able to go outside again. That would be better than looking at pictures on a screen. He knew he would never touch anything with his real hands again. The altered suit and this paint put that to an end. How damaged was he now? He had heard the reports and seen graphs. He had never considered the fact that two of his senses worked as far as he knew. He didn’t know about taste and smell. Would they still work as usual? Was sight and hearing all he had left? At least he might still be able to fly as long as he took it slow and easy. Dropping radiation on the citizens of Japan while he imitated birds would be frowned upon by the government. He knew from some of the scuttlebutt he heard that the Ministry wanted to test him to see how well he held up to their examinations. He was sure that anything major would cause an event. And he didn’t want anyone probing his guts on the chance they might find out how to make more like him. Who wanted to lose their humanity to be living weapons? How much were they willing to give up for their transformations? He knew it was something he wouldn’t want people he hated to have to go through. “We might have done it, Doctor.” The second man raised a fist. “Everything is reading what it would be for a normal irradiated room.” “Tank’s empty.” The other man turned the knob to cut off the flow. “Is it holding?” “So far, so good.” The second man nodded. He held up the printing line as it rolled through his hand to the floor. Dr. Yamada frowned as he walked over and examined the readings. Everything looked good for the moment. What happened if the paint failed? “We need to run tests to make sure the paint will keep working.” Yamada nodded. “We need to know what happens if Shirou exerts himself.” “Shirou, see if you can fly with the coating on.” The technician pulled the tank back to the inner door of the airlock. “That’s the simplest test we can give him right now.” Shirou willed himself into the air. He floated gently as he always did. “The count is up some, but it’s still lower than without the coating.” The second technician laughed. “This is great.” “No,” said Dr. Yamada. “It’s peeling with the trivial exertion he is doing. Land Shirou. Let’s see if that will stop the coating’s degradation.” Shirou landed. He checked his hands. Small scales showed through the paint job. He sighed. At least he didn’t have his hopes up for a solution. “May I?,” asked Yamada. He held out a hand. Shirou extended a hand. The doctor took it and looked over both sides. He nodded. “We need a little more work on the formula, but this is better than I expected.” “I don’t understand.” Shirou took the hand back and looked it over. “This looks like a failure to me.” “No.” Yamada shook his head. “Your body heated up at the extremities when we asked you to fly and cooked the coating at those places. The torso coating is still there, and blocking a portion of the radiation. We just need to get the formula to resist the effects of your powers in your limbs. Once we do that, we can work on actual tests so you can get out of here without killing anyone.” “I am all for that plan.” Shirou nodded. 29904