SG: Subtler Than Light #2: Beef with Brains (2/2)

(continued from part one, preceding...)

***

[Ten minutes earlier, on the bridge of the _Subtler Than Light._]

"Twenty wounded, two critical," someone said in Cendra Seconds' ear. "They were the closest when the bomb went off. The criticals are off to Cedars-Sinai, the rest are getting bandaids and lollipops in my sickbay." A pause. "Cendra?"

"Yes," Cendra answered, sounding harsh to her own ears. "I... sorry, Erin." She pulled her eyes away from the reports coming in on her tablet. "We were damn lucky not to lose anyone."

Dr. Erin McCavish nodded, his copper-tanned face lacking its usual insouciant grin. It made him look like a glum, beardless Shaggy, she thought, before chastising herself for the distraction.

Someone had set off a bomb on the _Subtler Than Light,_ the grounded aetheric airship from a different dimension that had been a fixture on Venice Beach for the last thirteen years and her professional responsibility as site manager for Harxxon--the corporate owner of the land the ship was on--for the last eight. It hadn't been a standard explosive, either--it's chief effect being to blow a hole through the roof of the Root and all the floors between it and the morning sky, with a huge column of red light that camouflaged the blast's true nature. She wasn't sure who was responsible--the red-feathered utahraptor she'd found stealing the Hidden Heart or the swarm of hawaiian-shirt-wearing demon monkeys who'd tried to steal it from the raptor--but she was determined to find out.

"Is China out of Sickbay?" she asked.

"Should be," said Erin, checking his tablet. "She had scratches and bruises, same as you, but her rapid blood check came back negative, like everyone else's, and the autodoc says no concussion, so... yup. They just kicked her out..."

"Thr mntes go," China interrupted, as she bounded out of the elevator doors and onto the bridge. Cendra raised an eyebrow. China took out the three lollipops she had stuck in her mouth and tried again. "Three minutes ago," she said. "I stopped to check on Bhossi and Cla'rhabelle. They've got an idea on pinging the Heart."

"I thought they said they couldn't."

"That was before the bomb went off," China answered, as she swung into her usual seat in front of a bank of monitors and screens to the right of the central command chair. "Not only did it damage their lab equipment and hurt their chief assistant, it roiled the flesh-melting spore cloud they were working on, and now it's sulking in its tank."

"Er," said Dr. McCavish. "Flesh-melting... what now?"

"It's collective name is Tony," said China.

"You know," the doctor said, "sometimes I almost forget where I work."

"Anyway, Bhossi and Cla'rhabelle are cheesed," China went on, as her fingers flashed across the keyboard before her. "They broke out the theremin ray device--the one that originally found the Heart. They thought if they found the right oscillation and amplitude they could get it to send a pulse back to us that we can pick up on our sensors."

"Didn't they say that was impossible?"

"Nah, just insanely dangerous," China replied. "Like it could explode, or the Heart could somehow take over the ship, or turn us into savage mindless animals... you know, the usual."

"Put them on the line," Cendra ordered. "I can't have people just going off half-cocked because of this."

China gave her a look. Cendra knew exactly what the look was about, but waved it off. She was on the bridge, after all, in command and not at all flying after demon monkeys with chomping in mind. She was demonstrably in control. The Heart was not.

"Cendra," called a voice from the stairwell next to the elevator doors. "Any news?"

"Miguel," said Cendra, as she considered her ex-husband's demeanor. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils flared. He was breathing heavily, as if he was holding in his rage. Ordinarily, Miguel Veracruz was one of the kindest and gentlest people she knew, belying his large stature and muscular appearance, but right now, he looked ready to rip someone's head off. While there was not a lot they saw eye-to-eye on anymore, she thought, an attack on their people in the _Subtler Than Light_ was one of those things. But none of the beings she would most have liked to see get the chop at the moment were in the room, or on the ship.

"No contact yet from Esteban," China informed them, as she consulted her tablet. "He was chasing the pack of monkeys in the direction of the 405. Communications issues on our end have been resolved, but still no word."

"Hey, China," said Miguel. He looked at the doctor and sullenly added, "Erin," before returning to Cendra. "Esteban's... got it covered, I'm sure. And I think I've done all I can here."

Cendra nodded. Miguel's fortuitous timing in being close in the aftermath of the bomb going off had saved several civilian lives, as well as helped resolve the 'communications issues' much more quickly than they otherwise would have been. There were times when he could still be the man she once loved.

"I should be out there..." he continued.

"You need to get back to our daughter," Cendra told him. "You did the right thing, leaving her with Johnny while you came in for damage control, and he's one of the few people I'd trust with her life outside the pack, but..."

"You want her here," Miguel finished.

"I want her safe, and away from here," Cendra corrected. "Take her back h... to your apartment. Keep her away from all this. We don't know where the Heart is, or where those who want it are, and until we do..."

"Yeah," Miguel agreed. "Also, speaking of the pack, I put in an all-call. Moon Moon and Marty were down at Redondo Beach when the boom happened, and they're heading this way. Miko and Apples were protesting in Fresno, so they'll be a while getting back. As for Fearless Leader and the rest... no word." He let out a sigh, one that sounded to Cendra like it held far more than he could say. "Again."

'Fearless Leader' was a man named August Rydell, the nominal leader of the werewolf pack to which Miguel and Camila belonged. The few times Cendra had met him, he'd been charming, if distant, and had been treated with something just shy of reverence by the rest of the pack. Perhaps that was because he was the pack's main source of revenue, though where he got his money was still shrouded in mystery. He was also the reason Miguel was a werewolf, having bitten him the day he and Esteban discovered Los Pantalones in a U-Stor-It in Reseda.

Over the years since, the 'charming' aspect receded, and the 'distant' one pushed to the forefront. He became difficult to reach, keeping a few of his wolves close, while giving the others--like Miguel--a longer leash. Too long, in Miguel's oft-stated opinion. Were it not for the cash flow, Miguel figured, either he would've been challenged for leadership, or the pack would've dissolved.

"Too bad," Cendra said. "We could use more eyes--and noses--on the ground."

"I'll call you when Camila and me are back home," Miguel replied. He hesitated, nodded, then handed her a book bag she hadn't noticed he was carrying.

"What--"

"Something on my list came in at Bonnie's," said Miguel. "For me, but I got it for you."

He left before she could say anything else.

"It's not polite to say that about his butt," China said, looking down at what appeared to Cendra to be the floor and nothing more, before looking at the doorway Miguel had gone through. "Though you ain't lyin'," she added. She glance at Cendra. "Well... that was... something?"

"About covers it," Cendra replied. She noticed the pensive look on Erin's face, and took his unresisting hand. "You okay?"

"You kidding?" Erin asked, giving her a smile that only seemed half-forced. "He just used my name, without any epithets. Part of me is amazed, part of me is worried he's not okay."

"He's holding together the only way he knows how," said Cendra. "Just like the rest of us. And he's got more to deal with today than his ex's new man."

She gave him a quick kiss. His smile became genuine.

"Now, what is this," she said, opening up the book bag. She saw the spine of a leather-bound volume that looked like it had been through a lot. The pages, at least, were probably foxed, and maybe even badgered. There was a title in faded gold lettering, hard to read...

"Boss lady," China interrupted. "We got cows."

A second later, the elevator doors opened, and two brown cows telekinetically floated out, their white lab coats nearly brushing the floor. Their massive brains, a full foot higher than their skulls could contain and shielded by transparent helmets, pulsed purple, green, and orange in quick succession, colors Cendra had come to recognize as indicating agitation. She set down the book bag on the nearest console.

*Mrs...* started Bhossi, her public telepathic words audible in the minds of everyone present.

*Miss,* corrected Cla'rhabelle. At least, she thought she identified the cows correctly. When they weren't agitated, their 'voices' were different enough she could tell who was who. When they were, she had to look carefully. Bhossi preferred red lipstick and rhinestone-studded earrings. Cla'rhabelle wore strands of pearls, and had stickers from the various countries she'd been to on the side of her brain helmet.

The pair were Mu'Kao scientists from the 'continent' of Mu, which had long ago 'sunk' from the world they were in to the aetheric dimension, where it was now one of the land masses floating around inside a hollow Earth. They had been found two decades ago, barely alive, by a Harxxon survey team checking passages beneath the Great Pyramid at Giza, having made a harrowing escape from their continent and the forced servitude that had been their lot. Before the incident that had brought the _Subtler Than Light_ to the surface world and subsequently to Venice Beach, they had been the sole source of information on the inner Earth societies collectively known as Terra Subterrene, severely limited by how little of it they'd been allowed to experience.

She respected their bravery and their knowledge. She tried to respect their common sense, but that was reserved for occasions when they displayed some.

"Hold off on pinging the Heart," Cendra told them. "From what you told me before, it's way too dangerous of a risk."

*One of the seven Hidden Hearts is loose upon this world,* Bhossi answered. Her bovine eyes narrowed. *And not just any one of seven--the Heart of Mu, the most powerful. Here, buried in the nectarisite that composes this vessel, instead of being in the transdimensional engine miles below the surface where it belongs. You know the damage it caused when we first discovered it within this ship, before we knew how its whispers could change any of us. We know that the major powers of Terra Subterrene, nevermind the Hidden Empire itself, would start a war with the surface world to reclaim it if they knew it was here. How can we delay even a second before--*

"You told us the Heart could explode if you pinged it," Cendra interrupted. "We can't risk civilian lives like that, even for recapture. You'll have to find another way."

*Er,* Cla'rhabelle responded. *We sort of already... did it?*

Cendra closed her eyes and held in a growl. She felt her flesh ripple from her hands to her chest and back again.

"Did it work?" she asked through clenched teeth.

She opened her eyes, and saw the cows had floated backward a few feet, and that their brains were flashing more agitation-colors than before. She looked at her hands--brown, rough with dirt and cuts, but untransformed--and hoped she hadn't scared them again. Too much, anyway.

*Yes,* answered Bhossi, her telepathic voice an octave higher. *The Heart is less than a hundred yards away, within a bookstore known to us as 'Bonnie's.' As Bonnie's has not exploded, we are confident there are no civilian casualties.*

"So the monkeys went completely the wrong way," said China. "Which is... good? Probably?"

"But why would that raptor take it there?" Erin added.

"Maybe she's working with someone," Cendra said. She opened her mouth to continue... then stopped.

Not just someone. One specific person, not named 'Bonnie,' though Bonnie was likely a factor in the choice.

Her flesh rippled again.

"Keep up the repairs," Cendra told China. "I'm going to get the Heart back before this gets any more out of control."

"Speaking of that," China started, "I just got a message from Los Requemados. Chalandra--"

But Cendra was no longer listening. She slapped a button on the console next to her, causing the bay window on the side of the bridge facing the ocean to retract. The warm spring morning air breezed in, an out-of-place feeling amidst the damage control gloom.

"Cendra?" Erin asked.

*Not again,* Cla'rhabelle mindspoke.

"Someone's in trouble, someone's in trouble," China sang. She looked down at apparent empty space. "What? They were singing it, and I just joined in."

"They're damn right," Cendra replied. It was the last thing she said before her flesh rippled again... and transformed.

Scales rose from her skin, even as her clothing disappeared and extradimensional mass expanded her body beyond its human limits. Wings rose from her back, while claws grew from her hands and feet. She exhaled, and steam rose from her now-reptilian snout and her mouth full of jagged, sharp teeth.

"You could've gone outside first," Erin told her. "Showoff."

Cendra grinned, which had the effect of causing Bhossi and Cla'rhabelle to retreat even further. Then she turned toward the opening and leapt, her dragon wings guiding her telekinetic flight.

***

[Back to present time, and the outside of Bonnie's Bookstore.]

It was small consolation that the dragon seemed as alarmed about ki Kazza Malissk being in her mouth as Kazza was. She reared back, her tongue pushing against Kazza's side, trying to keep the raptor from sliding down into her throat. Kazza hung onto one large, sharp lower fang with her uninjured--at least until that point--arm, while trying to pull the bag with the Heart back from the dark, wet, strangely omelette-scented abyss.

For a moment, she wondered how her face would taste to it. It had been so long since she'd been able to properly clean her feathers, never mind the leathery flesh beneath. So long ago were the times when she'd bathed in the sulforous springs of Elak-nas, sipping fermented blood while attendants massaged her and small birds scoured her free of lichen...

The dragon swung her head, and both Kazza and her heavy bag fell away. She landed on the palm of the dragon's outstreched, clawed hand... and leaped.

The dragon's eye followed her as she soared, closing just before Kazza could strike. Kazza nevertheless fired several feather-bolts, which exploded against its scaly hide.

With a start, Kazza realized she *knew* the dragon she was fighting. Zarsarei, Destroyer of Life. She had been in a book of legends, read to her and her brothers by her mother. A beast of the world within, that loved nothing more than eating up young utahraptors that failed to heed their parents' warnings.

What was Zarsarei doing *here,* on the surface world? Kazza had been briefed on the variety of life, and how a few of the humans, like her, had fantastic abilities and talents, but nowhere in that had been a mention of *dragons*.

The dragon shook her head, trying to send Kazza flying away again. Grimly, Kazza hung on to the beast's hairless eye-ridge, while trying to find purchase with her foot-claws.

At the now thoroughly-busted bay window of Bonnie's Bookstore, she saw Lemon Rydell's face. It was impossible to read his expression, even discounting how the dragon was twisting this way and that. His face disappeared into the shadows.

Then Lemon leapt from the window and landed on the dragon's snout.

"Beastmistress," he said, hauling himself up on her nose. "Thanks for dropping in, but this is an internal National Intelligence Bureau matter, and your country would appreciate it if you would just... hey!"

The dragon flapped massive scaled wings, evidently determined to get some kind of control over the situation of smaller creatures jumping in or on her face. Lemon responded by leaping again, landing on the eye-ridge just above where Kazza clung.

"This isn't how I wanted to end this," he said, looking at Kazza. "I didn't know the Director had a double-cross in mind until this morning."

*And if you had...?* a woman's voice rumbled in Kazza's head--and evidently Lemon Rydell's, as well. Kazza realized its source was the dragon, which was nearly cross-eyed now, trying to look at the small creatures crawling on her face.

"I would've crafted a more elegant plan," Lemon answered, without a hint of remorse. "Or at least something that might have foreseen those other demon monkeys using a bomb to open your ship up. The Director'l've been pissed that even happened."

"Really, monkey?" asked Kazza. "How was it not you, seeking to sew chaos and reap the Heart?"

*The current incarnation of the M.I.B... *not* the N.I.B., don't even come at us with that nonsense... is much less... showy,* the dragon Lemon had called Beastmistress mentally rumbled. *Which I imagine is excruciating to you, Lemon.*

Lemon started to answer, then jumped to avoid a couple dragon claws seeking to pinch his torso. He landed on her nose, leapt again, and landed on top of her head.

"Not like it might've once been," he said. "You might say I've learned the value of subtlety... something I see you're still struggling with."

Kazza contemplated dropping to the ground and running. The agent and the dragon had an evident history that was distracting both, one she could use to her advantage. There were still crowds on the avenue and on the beach opposite the bookshop; if she put on a show of her own, snapping teeth and firing a bolt or two into the air, they might provide enough cover for her to escape.

She let go--

--and was immediately attacked by three Hawaiian-shirt-and-Gilligan-Cap-wearing demon monkeys that appeared around her and latched onto her with their claws.

"Zmo-Kee's curses upon you!" Kazza snarled. "Forgot about you smelly things!"

*What--*

Kazza fell from Zarsarei's eye and struck the pavement, as pain roared through her.

Within it swam a face framed by golden strands of hair. Self-assured, imperious, almost human in appearance, save for a faint hue of super-short golden fur over her skin, and eyes slightly larger than a human's. Eyes that gave her a look that fixed on her and drilled in.

"Lady..." Kazza groaned.

*You must bring the Heart,* the Lady spoke in her head. *You must prove your allegiance, and your innocence.*

"I..."

*You must not fail, Protector of Sol Selegna!*

With a final surge of strength, Kazza forced her attention to the present, and forced herself to her feet... to find the nature of the battle had changed.

Around her, demon monkeys in loud tourist attire waged furious battle with demon monkeys in black business suits. They appeared and disappeared with such frequency and abandon that she could not follow much of the action. It was all flashing claws and poofs and blood in the air, while her surroundings shook and swayed like her inner ears had checked out for the day.

*Bad sign for your mental health,* a chalky-looking child next to her rasped, *when reality looks like it was directed by Michael Bay.*

*Give up the Heart,* a blonde child in a red dress on her other side said, flashing a switchblade. *Hate to admit it, but you're better off with the freaks who live here than on your own.* She gave Kazza a sharp smile. *Plus, I can point you to all the tastiest faces. You like beef with brains? We got beef with brains!*

Kazza stared.

*I know what you're thinking,* the child went on, *but we're technically hallucinations, at least from your perspective, so eating our faces is out.*

*You wouldn't like her face, anyway,* the rasper added. "Too salty."

*Sez you.* A bronze-gold tongue crept out from the blonde child's mouth and licked her upper lip, causing her to frown. *Damn, she's right.*

"Who... who *are* you little fuckers?" Kazza asked.

Before either of the little fuckers could answer, the air filled with invisible explosions, accompanied by multiple lilting hums. Demon monkeys fell to the ground, stunned by the unexpected blanket attack. Kazza couldn't see the dragon anymore, though there was a brown woman in torn jeans and a black tank top in her place, arms protectively around the wolf-child Camila, who had evidently decided the common sense of staying in the bookstore was not for her. At their side was a full-size male werewolf in tight black shorts, swatting at the distracted demon monkeys closest to them. Nearby was the book shop owner, Bonnie Rydell, who was tapping hard on her smartphone, and Johnny Clark, clutching his shoulder. Bonnie's brother, the M.I.B. agent Lemon Rydell, was trying to work the blutooth device in his ear. More personnel from the _Subtler Than Light_ were also on the thoroughfare, including a pale woman in a fuzzy bathrobe who was furiously looking not at Kazza, but at the two weird children who'd just talked to her.

Children who were no longer there.

Something hit the pavement behind her. Kazza spun in time to see a bright laser-lash stretch from an armored gauntlet and wrap around her throat. Another bound her right wrist, though Kazza managed to keep hold of the bag with the Hidden Heart in it. The armored being possessed of the lash-projecting gauntlet was before her, though Kazza could surmise little more than they were looking at her in triumph.

There was something strange about their armor, Kazza thought. The dark metallic surface made the back of her head squirm the more she focused on it. The metal felt... old... in her head. Ancient... twisted... as though it had been in proximity of things that had been corrupt with millennia of decay when the world was young.

*Insert Keith Richards joke here,* a now-sourceless voice rasped.

"Ki Kazza Malissk," a synthesized voice came from the armored being's faceplate. "As the authorized Galaxy Hunter of this sector, I am placing you under arrest, pending jurisdictional... jurisdictional... damn, how was I supposed to say this? Look, you're under arrest until I work it out with the locals, kay?"

Kazza pulled hard on her bonds. The searing pain that resulted nearly caused her to pass out.

When her vision returned, she saw someone else floating to the ground next to the Galaxy Hunter. She'd never seen the red-haired woman before, but from the look of her--tanned and potentially tasty face hidden by a partial black mask that gave her red eyes, formfitting (though not skin-tight) black-and-red top, shorts, and boots--Kazza guessed she was a superguy of some kind. The world, both on the surface and beneath it, was rife with them.

"Hey," the woman said, after giving her a mirthless smile that gave Kazza a few thoughts about the possibilities of lemon butter and basil. "Name's Psywave. Pleased, I hope. I've heard some about you, and wish we could meet under better circumstances, but we can't let you take this." She gestured at the sack. Part of its opening fell back to show the bronze-gold bust in the shape of the head of Neil deGrasse Tyson within.

"We can give you asylum," Galaxy Hunter told her. "Just tell us whose faction you're working for. Capella Ookanaptra's? Erasmus Fancy's? Um..." Hunter waved a free gauntlet. "One of... the others?"

"You were supposed to study the list," Psywave said to Hunter out of the side of her mouth.

"Excuse me," said Agent Rydell, walking briskly past recovering demon monkeys toward them. "The United States government would like a word..."

"When you're an official part of said government," Psywave replied, "we'll consider what you have to say. Until then... hey! Lady! You in charge here?"

The woman protecting the wolf girl straightened. "Yes," she answered. "Cendra Seconds is the name. I'm site manager for the _Subtler Than Light,_ the ship back there that these little fuckers blew a hole in..."

*It wasn't us!* two sourceless voices wailed.

"I meant the monkeys," said Cendra. She paused. "Did I just hear...?"

"Hear what?" Psywave asked.

"Never mind," said Cendra. "Anyway, in addition to that, I'm a superguy. Beastmistress by name."

"Ooh!" Psywave exclaimed. "Like a female Marc Singer?"

Kazza heard Galaxy Hunter's free gauntlet slap his metallic helmet.

"I've got contacts with Homeland Security," Cendra went on. "I'm authorized to hold on to criminals until Homeland or another authority can take them off my hands. Plus, I've got the only place to safely store the Heart..."

Psywave coughed. Galaxy Hunter coughed. Kazza coughed. Various other coughs came from those around, including some of the still-dazed demon monkeys.

"...up until this morning, at least. In any case, it's our property, and unless you intend to make an issue of it, we'd like it back."

"I'd like to make an issue of it," said Lemon Rydell. "Just because you know Secretary Selanova doesn't mean you know everything." He smiled his infuriating smile and looked at Kazza. "We can tell you a few things that might change your willingness to shelter her... oogh! Hey!"

Without looking, Cendra had reached out to her right and snagged Lemon's nostrils. She now had him as up in the air as he could go without his feet leaving the ground. He tried reaching for something in his coat, but flailed when Cendra pivoted her hand.

"Well, Agent Rydell," she said, "you have at least one weak spot of old you haven't accounted for."

"Owowowowowleggo!" was Lemon's considered reply.

"Cendra," said the werewolf behind her, "stop messing around. I've got Camila. We need to take this off the street, before..."

The air lit up with fiery blasts. Kazza struggled to see where they were coming from. In the air above them were four black drones with what looked like an ancient sigil underneath--inscrutable runes with a curved arrow beneath. Kazza felt the lashes around her neck and wrist vanish as near-strikes rocked her and Galaxy Hunter.

"Sorry!" Bonnie Rydell yelled. "Sorry, that was me! It was supposed to be for the battle earlier. I had a coupon code for fireball strikes, but there must've been a wi-fi lag."

Kazza glanced at Hunter and Psywave, both of whom were now focused on Bonnie. As was Cendra. As were the werewolves, and the monkeys, and everyone else. Furiously, she churned through her options. Surrender to the betrayers in the M.I.B. was out of the question. Surrender to either this... Beastmistress... or Psywave and Galaxy Hunter... would at least be honorable, but it would also mean failing her Lady. But what did that leave?

The thing that failed her in the Root of the _Subtler Than Light._ The thing that should have let her get in and out with no one the wiser and no one being harmed. Why it had failed in the crucial moment before the monkeys attacked, Kazza didn't know. But she could hope it was temporary... and that they were all too focused on one another to remain focused on her for the few moments she would need.

The Hawaiian-shirt-wearing monkeys vanished, then appeared around her, claws outstretched. Psywave and Galaxy Hunter fired at them, though the monkeys vanished in time to avoid damage. The business-suit-wearing monkeys soon joined the fray, and the air filled with chaos.

Kazza took a step back, and tapped a space on her left forearm with a claw-tip. Instantly, the world shimmered and went translucent.

*Oooh,* a young girl's voice said. *Where'd you go?*

*She's right there,* the other girl's voice rasped. *Cloaking doesn't work on us.*

*I was being sarcastic.*

Kazza backed away. Everyone watching was fixated on the renewed battle, and no one turned to look at her. The cloak that had failed earlier was holding for the moment, the eyes of hallucinated currently-invisible children notwithstanding.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking from Psywave to Galaxy Hunter to Cendra Seconds to Johnny Clark, and not at Lemon Rydell, all of whom were now immersed in the fray. "I have a duty to my Lady. I..."

More words wouldn't come. Reluctantly, she slipped into the crowd of onlookers... and was gone.

WILL KI KAZZA MALISSK SUCCEED IN STEALING THE HIDDEN HEART OF MU?
WILL BONNIE GET A REFUND FOR LATE-DELIVERED FIREBALLS?
WILL LEMON DO SOMETHING ABOUT HIS NASAL VULNERABILITY?
WHO IS KAZZA WORKING FOR?
WHO IS LEMON WORKING FOR?
IS LEMON A DIL-HOLE?
WILL NATE SILVER DEFEND THE VALIDITY OF THAT POLL?
WHO IS PSYWAVE?
WILL GALAXY HUNTER GET HIS LINES RIGHT?
WILL JOHNNY CLARK LEARN WHY HE'S VULNERABLE TO KAZZA'S LASER FEATHERS?
WILL THOSE LITTLE FUCKERS SCREW WITH THE END-OF-EPISODE QUESTIONS, TOO?
*Watch it, Narrator. We may seem hallucinatory in their world, but in yours...*
OWOWOWOWOWLEGGO!

Superguy. The Relentless Pursuit of Distraction.
--
Subtler Than Light #2 (c) 2022 by Gary W. Olson. All Rights Reserved.

For behind-the-scenes notes on the first two episodes, visit my posting in the Superguy List community on LiveJournal:
https://superguy-list.livejournal.com/40814.html

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SG: Subtler Than Light #2: We Got (1/2)

[Twenty minutes before the end of episode 1...]

China Kyoko Moroboshi's head rang like the inside of a cathedral bell tower swarmed by hunchbacks. She blinked, trying to get the blurry bronze-gold light to resolve into something comprehensible. The air was filled with screeches and ooks, punctuated by snarls, laser-ish squeals, and crashes.

*This rave really needs a beat,* said something in her head. A young girl's voice, but not one possessed of innocence.

Something red and tall surged through a door-shape, carrying a bronze-gold blob. They paused and leaned closer. China recognized eyes... a snout... red feathers... and sharp, red-stained teeth.

Strangely, it wasn't the teeth that held her attention. It was the feathers... and how some of them were growing back.

*I don't think she wants a cracker,* rasped something in her head. Another young girl's voice, but this one quieter, as if speaking required an effort.

The red being leaned close. She could smell their breath and its hints of mint and monkey blood. They seemed to be examining her.

"You'll live," the being said. "Apologies for... everything."

Then they were gone.

*She* was gone, if the sound of the voice was anything China could generalize from.

*She's a lady!* two childlike voices sang in her head. *Whoah whoah whoah, she's a lady!*

"Oh, no," China groaned. "Not you two little fuckers again."

As she pushed herself to her feet, her sight finally resolved, and she saw she was in the corridor outside an entrance to the Root, the engine room of the long-since-crashed Aetheric-Dimension battleship called the _Subtler Than Light._ Memory returned with sight, reminding her that she'd been peering in on her boss, Cendra Seconds, as she'd been checking to see if anything had tried to take the Heart of Mu hidden in the chamber's floor. They had received a warning, a flash of a message on a screen on the _Subtler Than Light's_ bridge, that something was coming...

The Root no longer had a ceiling. Nor did it have the portions of the two floors directly above it. They had been replaced by a jagged hole, and bright blue morning sky above.

China couldn't see Cendra Seconds anywhere in the debris-strewn room. Nor were there any monkeys, though there were streaks of blood on the walls. Monkey blood. Surely.

*Taste it!* the first child voice urged. *You know you want to!*

*Kyoko,* the other rasped. *It's not sanitary. Plus, her pumpkin spice shaker is in the commissary.*

And there they were. Blonde, sharp-eyed, milky-skinned ten-year-old Kyoko, luminous in a blood-red sun dress, casually flashing a switchblade as she reclined on a damaged console. Black-haired, black-eyed, bone-skinned China, in a too-large brown jacket, yellow tank top, and blue jean cutoffs, sitting on a piece of bronze-gold debris. Both looking up at her as if she was the one interrupting.

She knew them all too well. Kyoko, a dreamling born in the mind of a Sorceress Superlative, who had been carried along in the head of said Sorceress after she'd stopped sorcering and was instead a fugitive. China, the Bone Child, who Kyoko had become after a terribly complicated set of magical and cosmic conflicts sent her rocketing into the ancient past, stripped her of memory, and reformed her into the image of a powerful child sorceress (whereupon she'd lived through many centuries until returning to what had then been the present, and had accompanied both Kyoko and the former Sorceress Superlative in being fugitives, and so on, and so on). They had been the same being, at different points in their convoluted temporal existence. Only after Kyoko had been dispatched to the past, and China had had a physical body fashioned for her to inhabit, that had been the end of life in somebody else's head. China knew this, as she had been that China. And, by extension, that Kyoko.

Her gifted body had been twenty-four years old in 1995. Now, in 2023, it was... older. Gravity and time had been no kinder to it than it was to anyone else, though a program of rigorous exercise and relentless caffeine consumption had kept her feeling youthful, or at least awake. China Kyoko Moroboshi no longer saw what she now thought of as Young Kyoko or Young China when she looked in the mirror.

At least, not until what had happened a decade ago. After the first time those working in and around the _Subtler Than Light_ found the Hidden Heart, and what it had done to them while they were unwary.

*You missed us and you know it,* said Young Kyoko.

*You missed _being_ us,* Young China rasped.

"I'm only seeing you now because of the influence of the Hidden Heart," China said. "Like  the first time we found it, a decade ago. And you'll fade once we get the Heart back and bury you and it back in..."

She stopped. A shift in light had revealed something she hadn't seen before.

Legs.

"Cendra!" she exclaimed, moving to her fallen friend's side with a speed that made her vision swim for a few moments. To her relief, Cendra Seconds was sitting up, a hand to her forehead. Her jeans were torn, her black tank top caked with dust. But aside from some cuts, and a daze similar to what China had experienced, she appeared unhurt.

"The monkeys set off a bomb," Cendra said. "Blew a hole in... that..." She pointed vaguely at the hole above that now admitted sunlight. "Not sure... how we're not dead..."

"They were demon monkeys," China replied, as she helped Cendra up. "Teleporters. They must have... of course."

"What?"

"The Hidden Heart. They learned last time they can't take it with them when they teleport. Must've set this up to get them out after they 'ported in and... they must have made an anchor here. They can only teleport along line-of-sight unless they've set a psychic anchor beforehand in a place they want to get to."

"Which means they got in before today," Cendra finished. "Despite all our precautions."

*It wasn't us!* Young Kyoko and Young China exclaimed. *We were in the rec room watching 'Miraculous Ladybug!' Honest!*

China gave them the finger. Cendra raised an eyebrow.

"Those little fuckers again?"

"You got it," China replied. Cendra couldn't see or hear them, she knew, but she was one of the few who knew the full story of what had happened the first time they'd encountered the Hidden Heart of Mu, and knew what flipping off what appeared to be empty space meant. "Be careful. They're proof the Heart is active. If they've had this effect on me, it means they've--"

"Call Esteban!" Cendra ordered, as she ran for the door. "And get checked out in Sickbay once you've told him what's up. I'm heading for the bridge. If you find any monkeys, I get to bite their heads o... ah... interrogate them first."

"--loosened your good judgment and made you reckless," China finished, even as Cendra disappeared into another corridor and up a stairwell. "And kind of hungry, even though you had a decent breakfast in the commissary!" she called up. No reply came back.

*Aw, why do we have to be stuck in _your_ skull,* Young Kyoko moaned. *She's going to bite the heads offa demon monkeys! I wanna live in _her_ head!*

*Now, Kyoko,* Young China rasped. *You know monkey brains give you gas.*

"Shut up, both of you," China said. She looked about the Root again, but aside from bronze-gold debris, there was nothing else to be found. She re-entered the corridor, heading for the Sickbay, even as she pressed a spot behind her right ear and fired up an implanted comm system.

"Channel six."

"Connected," a toneless computer voice answered.

"Come in, Esteban," said China. No reply came. "Mayday, Esteban! We're under attack!"

***

SUBTLER THAN LIGHT
Episode 2
[Hidden Hearts, Part Two]
"We Got Beef with Brains"
by
Gary W. Olson

***

[Present time, in Bonnie's Bookstore, a few hundred feet south of the _Subtler Than Light._]

Humans were the worst, thought the wounded, red-feathered utahraptor ki Kazza Malissk. They swarmed the surface of their world, heedless of the fragile beauty they trampled. They made deals with one another, then broke them on whims. They fought, betrayed, stole, and murdered, all while smiling and saying how sorry they were. Worst of all, their faces looked delicious, and it was hard to remember she wasn't supposed to eat them.

She considered the faces of the humans with her in the upper room of the tiny bookstore on the avenue running along Venice Beach. The blonde woman seated in the far corner--a 'Miss Rydell,' the bookstore's sole employee that morning--had a slightly buttery glow to it, even though the anger in her eyes made her less appetizing. The young girl in her lap--'Camila,' Kazza remembered--had a face whose brown fur made it unappealing, even though she seemed much more entertained by the unfolding show.

Johnny Clark--the young adult, blue-haired, lightly-tanned human male across from her, slumped against a bookshelf, held fast by several black-and-white-business-suit-wearing demon monkeys--had a face that looked like it should have been tender and flavorful. Having attempted to bite his head off only a few minutes earlier, though, she knew it tasted rather bad, largely due to the cheap body spray he'd used. Chewing would be difficult, she realized, as she'd been unable to so much as break his skin with her sharp teeth. But the bleeding wound on his right shoulder, given to him when she blasted him with her laser feathers, was proof he wasn't as invulnerable as he boasted. With a little tenderizing, a vigorous face-scrubbing, and maybe a glass or two of rosé wine...

She shook her head. Where were these thoughts *coming* from? No civilized being would eat another, no matter *how* much their flavor might be enhanced with cumin, garlic, and paprika. Eating a face as a self-defense move was one thing. But *this...*

"The Heart of Mu is working on you, ki Malissk?" asked the blond, gun-toting human male in the black business suit, whose arrival with a retinue of armed demon monkeys was the cause of the current standoff. "I did warn you it was potent."

Kazza clutched her wounded left side. The human was Lemon Rydell, an agent of the Mega-Intelligence Bureau (and not the National Intelligence Bureau, as he'd falsely claimed only minutes ago). Older than Johnny, she guessed, by as much as a decade, but nearly as youthful in appearance. There was caring in his eyes, sincere concern in his expression, and a look of succulence around his cheeks and mouth.

The first two were probably lies, she thought. Finding out about the third was still an option.

"Had the Heart remained dormant as you promised, Agent Rydell," Kazza said, grimacing as fresh pain radiated from her side, "it would have been no issue. But the humans on the _Subtler Than Light_ were warned that the Heart was being targeted and their alarmed thoughts caused it to wake."

She looked past Lemon to where a couple demon monkeys were trying to stow a bronze-gold bust of Neil deGrasse Tyson--the current outer appearance of the Heart--into a black bag. It was a little too large for said bag, though the monkeys were having a go at making it fit. Lemon glanced back at them, raised an eyebrow, then looked back at Kazza.

"If I thought it would be easy," said Lemon, "I would've had these guys go get it. We made a deal with your boss... your Lady, excuse me... to engage your professional services because we knew that it wouldn't be."

Kazza snarled at the rebuke.

"Still," Lemon continued, his voice softening, "you got it away, despite not only interference from the STL's crew but also an attack by an unknown faction's demon monkeys. The way you diverted them well away from here with that self-propelled raptor mannequin was impressive. And we have the Heart, so I won't kibbitz further."

"And what effect has the awakened Heart had on *you,* Agent?" Kazza asked. "You seem to be as much of a cloaca-opening as ever, so it must be something else..."

Lemon's smile briefly vanished. He looked from her to the young male human she'd wounded.

"You won't get away with this!" yelled Johnny Clark. He brushed away the demon monkeys trying to keep him still, though his wounded shoulder was still apparently causing him no end of distracting pain.

"You remind me of someone, kid," said Lemon. "Old boyfriend of mine. Sharp, energetic, in love with the world... and a Hollywood Square if I ever saw one." He shook his head. "Of course we'll get away with it. We're getting away with it now. Once *some agents get the damn Heart in the damn bag*..." He spared a brief glare at said agents working on said damn bag. "...we'll be on our way."

"But you've seen our faces," Johnny noted. "That means you can't let us live."

"You ain't *that* ugly, kid," Lemon replied. "And that's not how we operate. Maybe the previous outfit bearing our name worked that way, but that was before my time." He waved his gun in a dismissive gesture. "Go ahead, go on your web series or TikTok or whatever and tell everyone about this. Give 'em my name. What the hell. I'm sure your fans will eat it up. For all the good it'll do. I'll be sure to deny everything in the comments."

Johnny glowered. Lemon shrugged.

"What about you, sis?" he asked. "You think that's how I rock these days?"

The young blonde woman in the corner, who Kazza only knew as 'Miss Rydell,' didn't immediately respond. Her lips were moving, as if in silent prayer. Lemon frowned.

"I hope you're not trying a spell, Bonnie," he said. "You know plain-old casting never was your thing, no matter how mom tried to teach you."

"Alexa," Bonnie Rydell interrupted, "what is the commonly-held opinion on Agent Lemon Rydell of the M.I.B.?"

A second later, she was answered by what sounded like a human woman, her voice coming from multiple small circular pods in various corners of the room.

[[Agent Lemon Rydell is known to be a dil-hole.]]

"Hey," said Lemon.

[[Survey results are based on a poll of five people.]]

"Sounds conclusive to me," Johnny rumbled.

Lemon rolled his eyes at his sister and started to turn away.

"Are you going to do the flashing pen thing?" asked Camila, the nine-year-old wolf girl, who apparently found that sort of thing an exciting prospect. "'Cause I can't be hypnotized when I'm a wolf!" She followed up that declaration with that well-known tool of the werewolf attack arsenal, the raspberry.

"Sadly, no," Lemon answered. "Even my bosses fear Sony's lawyers. Now..."

"To answer your earlier question, Lem," Bonnie Rydell interrupted, "I'm not sure I'd put anything by you. Not anymore. And as for you getting away with it... four words."

"Sis, don't you dare."

"Alexa... smite my enemies."

[[Please specify enemies,]] Alexa requested.

Kazza tensed. Lemon looked about with widening eyes.

"Agent Lemon Rydell," Bonnie said. She looked directly at Kazza, frowned a little, and appeared to make a quick decision. "...and any and all demon-slash-howler monkeys in this room," she added.

[[Smite initiated,]] Alexa informed them.

"That was more than four words!" Lemon protested.

No one had opportunity to say more, as the air was filled with electric blasts.

Kazza jumped as several white-hot bolts struck the demon monkeys closest to her. Three teleported away in time, but three screeched and fell. Lemon cried out as several bolts converged on him.

When more bolts came down and struck the monkeys holding Johnny Clark, Kazza observed the source: the coiled bulbs in the ceiling, which had somehow uncoiled and were directing their attacks with energy-saving malice.

The utahraptor swung into action. That is, she attempted to swing, but the pain in her side turned it into more of a stagger. She lurched for the stairs, and the bag with the top of Neil deGrasse Tyson's bronze-gold head sticking out of it. The demon monkeys that had been attempting to stuff it in said bag were nowhere in sight.

Several shots rang out. Each one was accompanied by the sound of shattering glass and diminishing light.

"That's enough of that," Lemon said, once the last bulb in the room was in pieces. "Sis, don't make me report this to Amazon. Or Mom."

"How are you not smited!" Bonnie growled. "Alexa, why is my brother not smited?"

[[Your Prime Membership allows for smiting of no more than two enemies at a time,]] Alexa answered. [[Attempting to smite more results in sub-smite levels of energy directed toward all.]]

"Dammit!"

Kazza hefted the bag. The Heart felt heavier than before, in ways that the mere fact of her injuries couldn't explain. The thought that it was working on her, still, refused to go away.

Whether it was or not, her duty was clear.

"Don't move, ki Kazza," Lemon said. "I was told to bring you in with the Heart. I'd rather that not involve a stretcher... or a body bag."

Kazza glowered at the barrel of Lemon Rydell's gun, which was aimed at her torso. Smoke rose from the ashy tatters of his suit, and sparks shot from the fried bluetooth device at his ear, but there was no waver in his aim. Nor, to her surprise, was there any malice in his eyes--despite his sister's attack, his cool, somewhat smug demeanor was unaffected.

It was this last thing that stiffened her resolve.

"I am... Kazza Malissk," she declared, as she clutched the Heart to her chest. "Declared 'ki' as a result of incidents of which I was not a part. I am the defender of Sol Selegna, the greatest city in all of Terra Subterrene... whether it wants my defense or not."

She edged around the railing. The stairs leading to the first floor and escape were invitingly open... but she was sure she heard demon monkeys in waiting, not entirely successful in keeping in their ooks of anticipation.

"The Hidden Heart of Mu does not belong to you, or your people," she hissed. "Some say it doesn't belong to us, either, but our claim is still greater than yours. If you will not honor the agreement your masters and mine have made... I shall have to find my own way... and..."

She paused, and winced.

"...woe to anyone who stands in my... waaargh!"

Three demon monkeys chose that moment to appear above her and drop down, their claws immediately seeking out her wounded side. Kazza snapped at one.

She missed its face, but got its tail. It yowled and disappeared, leaving its tail behind.

The taste was disappointing. Maybe it was the fur, but there was no way it would be good without at least a shave and some oregano. She spit it out and swung the claws of her free right hand at the other two monkeys.

A shot grazed her shoulder scales and broke the bay window behind her. The monkeys who'd been attacking her teleported away, reappearing on either side of Agent Rydell.

"I won't aim to miss again," Lemon warned. "Now--hey! Ow!"

"Camila!" Johnny exclaimed, as Camila Veracruz dug her claws into Lemon Rydell's back and got a firm grip on his hair.

"Run, dinosaur lady!" Camila yelled. "I got him!"

"Let go!" Lemon snarled. "I... hey!"

Johnny Clark closed his hand over Lemon's gun, and kept closing until it was considerably thinner and more lumpy. Camila sprang from Lemon's shoulders just as Johnny grasped Lemon's tie and pulled him downward.

The demon monkeys closest to Lemon were having none of this, and leaped to the attack. Kazza, anticipating this... made a decision of her own.

The feathers on her forearm crackled as they glowed bright red, and seared her as they shot away, fully transformed into bolts of red light. The monkeys about to land on Johnny Clark screeched in pain as the bolts struck and sent them flying into a bookshelf.

Johnny grinned at her. "Thanks!" he exclaimed.

"My thanks to you, warrior," Kazza responded.

Then she mustered her strength, and ran as fast as she could toward the fractured bay window.

"Hey!" Johnny called.

"Go, dinosaur lady!" Camila cheered.

"Wait!" Bonnie yelled. "Outside, there's--"

Kazza shielded her eyes with a feathered forearm as she leapt through the busted glass.

For that reason, she didn't see the dragon until she landed in its mouth.

(continued in part two, following...)

--

Subtler Than Light #2 (c) 2022 by Gary W. Olson. All Rights Reserved.

For behind-the-scenes notes on the first two episodes, visit my posting in the Superguy List community on LiveJournal:
https://superguy-list.livejournal.com/40814.html

Gary W. Olson LinkTree: https://linktr.ee/gwox
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Superguy/Sfstory Discord: https://discord.gg/xuhYChvAPK
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Innocent Bystander #10: Time Spent Away Part 2 of 2

Continued from Part 1

*****

"This is the first one." Mina told her feline companion as she pulled into the parking lot. The sign over the store read "Milk Wizard", with a carton of milk instead of an 'l' and a little pointed hat over the 'i' in 'Wizard'. "I was hoping not to sound like a total weirdo, but I guess that's out of the question... Maybe it won't matter. This place looks plenty weird to start with."

"Why 'weirrrrd'?"

"A specialty milk store?"

Maow contemplated this. "Seeeemmmms reasonable."

"Oh. Of course you'd think so... but it's very unusual. I've never heard of something like it until... you know." Mina had filled her companion in on her most recent life events while they drove, including an injunction against discussing any of it with Drew. She didn't know how Elemental would react to her sharing her mission, and her brother had no defense other than her good will. "You just keep your eyes open for anything... ethereal or whatever. I'll do the talking." 

Mina looked up at the windows of the second floor apartment in the old building, where her quarry supposedly dwelled, then took a deep breath as they approached the door. Through the glass, it just looked like a small grocery store, made up of glass beverage refrigerators. A bell tinkled as they walked in.

"Rice milk, oat milk, banana milk... just a milk store for vegans, I guess." Mina said, shivering in the heavily air conditioned room. A woman in a long skirt was staring at the banks of refrigerators, dazzled by the selection. There was a counter nearby, the man sitting behind it just putting his book down to examine them, and, in particular, Maow. He was a middle aged, beardless, and hatless man in a neat shirt and pants. His gaze shifted as Mina walked over to him.

"Hi! Are you..." Mina peered at his name tag, "Sal White?"

He cocked his head, curious. "That would be me. What's your business?" 

Suddenly Mina found herself hesitating in the face of his potential grief. "I'm--do you know, that is, are you related to--"

Her stammerings were interrupted by a frustrated yowl.

"Wheeerrre is the rreal milk?" Maow was running back and forth along the aisles. "Almmmmond, amaranth, macadamia, these are nnnot milk creatures!"

The woman shopper glared at Maow, and seized a carton of milk from a random fridge with the aggressiveness of a post-apocalyptic looter. Clutching it protectively to her chest, she marched to the counter, where she abruptly reversed and clapped it down with a slosh that made Mina flinch away.

"Cabbage milk," Sal noted, "That'll be $8.99." 

The woman hesitated. Mina expected her to balk at the price, or the product itself, but she only asked, "Is it gluten-free?"

"It's cabbage, ma'am," Sal said. "One hundred percent gluten free naturally. Guaranteed free of mad scientist tampering and alien DNA, too. You won't get that at Foods Hole. Will that be cash or card?"

As the woman fished for payment, she turned to Mina. "Is she yours?" As Mina blushed and stammered, the woman continued, "You shouldn't let her out without a leash on. She's a danger to local wildlife, you know." She completed her payment and left the store with a jingling bell as Mina tried to regain her composure.

"I don't sell leashes here." Sal advised. "Try Bob's BDSM down the road."

"Gross." Mina said absently, distracted by a refrigerator behind the counter with a heavy lock on it. It was labeled 'American Chestnut Milk $100/pint'.

"You were about to ask me something?"

"She was gonna ask about your dead sister."

"Excuse me?!?"

"*Andrew!*" 

"Hi, Mimi. Did you know this place is only like a mile from school with the right shortcuts?"

"Delinquent! I'm taking you back right now! Mom and dad are gonna throttle me!"

"Nah. You need me to keep you from getting cold feet." Drew pointed. "And to keep an eye on your catgirlfriend. What's she doing?"

Maow was sniffing the wall intently now. Sal's face went from shocked to angry. "Miss! You can't go back there!" At his words, the catgirl suddenly bounded forward, passing clean through and disappearing from sight.

Mina clutched her head. "Maow!"

"Ah. Girl's got too sensitive a nose," Sal scowled, getting up and switching the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed'. "She looks to be part cat, is that right? They can have strong magic, cats. Don't worry, she'll be fine as long as she doesn't try to open anything."

"Where did she go?"

"She's found the other store. I guess I can take it y'all are here on mystical business? Though Sandy never had the talent, not really. It doesn't always run in families. Though she did have the interest... She knew a lot about magic, and wanted to help other people learn. Damn fool. There's a reason I keep the real stuff in the back."

Maow poked her nose back into view, apparently oblivious now to the illusory wall. "Mina! All kinds of milk!"

"Don't drink anything!" Mina cried, rushing forward.

Maow had a bottle in her hand, and sniffed at the opening. "Nnnno!" She recoiled, almost throwing the bottle before remembering her manners. Mina reached her only steps ahead of the hollering Sal, taking the bottle.

Ignoring the strange symbols and unfamiliar characters, she read the only English words she saw. "Maow, this says 'iguana milk'! Iguanas aren't milk creatures!" 

Sal was red-faced. "You sure are lucky that it didn't spill in here, you'd have quite a repair bill on your hands!"

"They'rrre *tasty* creatures!" Maow protested, ignoring him.

"You eat iguana? Gro--"

"I've always wanted to try some. It's supposed to taste like gator. They definitely don't make milk, though." Drew put in helpfully.

The proprietor snatched the carton from Mina's hand. "It's not for drinking. Well, not unless you wouldn't mind losing a limb the next time you get startled."

"...Whow? Why? How?" 

He shrugged. "I'm the Milk Wizard." He headed back through the illusory wall, Drew on his heels. Mina followed, after a moment of hesitation.

A shiver went down her spine as she crossed through the false wall into a long room, two rows of refrigerators along the walls. A faintly sour smell hit her which she hadn't noticed in the main store. Sour... milk? There were glowing runes on the ceiling and along the glass fronts of the refrigerators. Mina peered at their contents, which consisted of milk cartons. She scanned the English labels. "Chicken milk... concrete milk? Who would want these?"

"They have their uses." Sal had opened one of the refrigerators and was replacing the carton of iguana milk. 

"So you sell weird hippy milk up front and weird, uh..."

"I sell any and all kinds of milk you can think of."

"*All* kinds of milk? Really?" Andrew said, a little too brightly. "Anything *I* can think of? Anything white and cr--ow! Mina you're on my foot!" 

 

Sal gave him a disgusted look. "You all come back into the main room and we'll talk like grownups. Some of this stuff can be dangerous."

"You're telling me!" Mina's gut roiled as she looked at a carton labeled 'Cheez Whiz Milk'. "Maow, there's nothing we want back here."

"It also smells a little weird in here. I wouldn't wanna drink anything here.."

"Oh that? It's just my milk runes. I see that kitty's been licking 'em. That explains how she could get into a magically locked refrigerator." He scratched his head, scrutinizing Maow afresh. "I guess I should thank you for uncovering that security weakness."

"Wwwas goat's milk. Strange spice to it. Nnnnnnnot sure if I liked it or not."

"That'd be the magic."

"So you really are a wizard! But Sandy--" Drew said excitedly.

"Wasn't." Sal returned to his perch behind the counter. "Wished she was. That's why she's dead."

The man's tone was curt, and his face had closed up. "I'm sorry." said Mina, guiltily. "We'll go. We--"

"Now hold up." He said sternly. "You came in here and dug up my sister's ghost." He paused as Mina gasped at the last word, his eyes glittering. "And you don't seem like mundane true crime vultures. I think you owe me an explanation before you go."

"I really didn't mean--"

"She's being haunted. We're trying to figure out who the ghost is. Was. Right, Mimi?"

Sometimes the direct approach really was best. Sal put down his incongruous bottle of cow's milk and leaned back. "And you think it's poor Sandy? How'dyou figure?"

"I-- Andrew go to the car."

"No way!"

"Andrew!"

"I'll hide outside and come back and ask about it later. Right?" Drew winked conspiratorially at the Milk Wizard, who crossed his arms noncommittally.

"Just spit it out, lady."

"My name's Mina." She sighed. "Maow... are we alone here?" The catgirl nodded affirmative, eyes alert. There didn't seem to be much alternative then, so she related again the terrible night at the construction site, Elemental's introduction and the challenge of her identity, her words about her victim Ed Hinkle. Sal's eyebrows lifted higher and higher as she continued. Maow pressed against her, back to back, purring as she watched the room. Drew squeezed her arm at the more traumatic intervals, which made her guiltily grateful to have him there. 

"So you weren't gonna solve the murders," he said when she was done, "It was already solved! The victims were the important part!"

"The victims were always the important part, I think." said Mina. "Um, even when they don't come back as vengeful ghosts? But especially when they do."

"Not my sister," Sal said, "Not the way I knew her, anyway."

"Could her d-- that is, could she have changed?"

"Anyone can change, so they say. Wanting revenge... maybe. Not the other murders that creature's done. She always wanted to teach people, though. Help them understand, the poor sap. She wouldn't play games like Elemental, she'd tell you what she wanted you to know straight out. And she would have let *me* know she was still around!" 

"You talk like you know Elemental?"

"Only by rumor. It--she, I guess--is said to work as muscle for the... for some local bigshot mages."

"Bigshot mages...?" Mina asked, but Sal spoke on as if he hadn't heard. 

"I didn't even think that thing was a ghost. Doesn't work like any ghost I've ever heard of. There's other types of spirit out there."

"Inayya kneeeww a spirit once," Maow purred, "It left her, though. She called it a jinnnnnnnia."

"What? You never said!"

"What's a jinnnnnia--jinnia--oh, a genie!" Drew exclaimed. "She even offered to grant a wish!"

"Oh! Hmm. I'll have to talk to Inayya next time I'm down, unless I've figured it out by then." 

"I wanna know about these bigshot mages! We never hear anything about supernatural activity around here!" Drew looked expectantly at Sal, but he kept his arms folded and his expression blank, looking out the window.

Mina cleared her throat to end the uncomfortable silence. "Thanks for all your help. Um... if you don't mind... and I totally understand if you do... I have a name, but Elemental wants something that once belonged to her."

Sal looked at her. "This Hinkle man. He was one of those who killed Sandy, for sure?"

"That's what Elemental said. She also said he was the last one..."

"Good." Sal said, his face cold. "Very good. That's news worth hearing." He rummaged behind the counter, from which he produced first a new carton of milk and then a polished stick encrusted so thickly with silver and assorted crystals that they could barely see the wood. He dipped the tip of the wand into the milk, muttering, then handed it across to Mina. "This used to be hers. It ain't got any magic to it normally, but I put a tracking spell on as I'd like it back when you find it's not what you're looking for."

Mina took the item gingerly, avoiding the wet end and wondering if it would be bad manners to wash it off in the store's restroom at the soonest opportunity. "And if it's hers, and she wants to keep it?"

"If it's really her... and it ain't, but if it is... you tell her to come visit me and we'll work it out."

Something in his words resonated with an old, old vacancy in Mina's heart. "Of course. If it were my sister..."

Sal gave her a skeptical look, which made her suspect she was being a sap. "Now, if you don't mind, I have protective spells to renew."

As they walked out to the car, Drew turned to Mina. "See? You woulda been lost in there without me!"

"I can't believe you just said 'dead sister' to him!" Mina seethed. "He could have fireballed you! I would have."

"Sorry, Mimi." he said, a little chastened. But only a little. "But you were just standing there umm-ing! Sometimes you gotta get the painful bit over with. And  see, the guy ended up glad we talked to him!" 

"I could have done it myself, without us almost getting turned into wheels of cheese or something." Mina grumbled. He had come in handy... but she didn't dare admit it. He'd put himself in enough danger as it was without thinking he was an indispensable ace detective.

"We mmmmade a great team! Cat nose and humannnn talking!" Maow threw a furry arm around each of them, purring in what was undoubtedly a well-intentioned effort at peacemaking. Mina groaned inwardly.

"Maow... yes... but please don't encourage him." She glared at her brother. "He's going straight back to school. Right now."

"Shall I tell Mom what you've been doing instead of job hunting?"

"I'd rather come clean than contribute further to your delinquency!" Mina stated virtuously.

"Even if she won't let you keep the gaudiest dildo in the world!"

"Language! How do you know that word anyway?"

"Dildo? There's this thing called the internet..."

"Is 'dildo' always a bad worrrrd?" Maow broke in, her ears pricked, "Orrrr is it simply disrespectffful in this parrrticular situation?

"It's mostly that Mimi's a huge prude. Look at her blush like she never in her life said--"

"It's totally disrespectful! This belonged to a murdered woman!"

"Oh shit, that's right! And she might be an invisible killer ghost now!" Drew raised his voice to a shout, "Hey ghost lady! I was just messing with Mina! I didn't mean--"

"Never mind!" Mina shushed him. "Just get in the car!"

*****

Sal watched his strange trio of visitors bicker with each other in the parking lot, his hand creeping towards the landline on his wall as he argued with himself. If they were involved with Elemental, they were involved with the Four Humours, and he didn't want to get on the bad side of that... but which side was the bad side? Elemental had sicced these people on itself, apparently, so it must know what it was doing already. But if they turned out to be trouble, and he hadn't given due warning...

They didn't seem like they could cause much trouble, two unpowered young humans and a magically sensitive but untrained felinoid. And if the girl were lying, she was good enough to fool his senses. 

She had seemed so earnest... She had reminded him of Sandy, in a way; she was clearly a sap. She didn't need any more attention from dark forces than she was already getting.

His hand dropped from the phone, and he turned away.

*****

San Francisco, present

Daniel Sersy slid into the booth across from the other man, who remained slouched over his phone. Daniel glared. It had been difficult to ditch the mage he had been saddled with, but he had managed it. He had finally left him in a movie theater, mesmerized by a re-screening of the classic 1973 film Goncharov. Quite an effective distraction, but one which constrained him to the remaining two hours of the movie. He didn't have leisure to wait for the other man to finish his game of 'Homicidal Lemurs Stacking Crystals' or whatever it was.

"How long have you been working for him?"

His companion sighed, setting down the phone. "Nice to see you too. I didn't have to show up, y'know."

I ought to obliterate you, you impudent-- Instead, Daniel forced himself to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Ramon. I have limited time. I'm glad you found work after I had to let you go. Truly. But why *him*?" 

"He made the best offer." Ramon said a number which made Daniel's eyes bug out.

"Wh--what could you possibly be doing there that makes you worth that much?" So much for any plan to reacquire Ramon as a mole--provided that number was accurate, which shouldn't be hard to check.

"Classified." He took in Daniel's expression, and sighed again. "Look, I haven't told him any of your secrets either, and I'm not going to. I'm not looking to betray anyone. I just want to do the job I'm hired for, get my check, and pay off my student loans without any bad blood. That's mostly what I wanted to tell you when I agreed to come here."

Daniel tried to hide how relieved he was at this admission. He tried not to *be* relieved, either. It didn't pay to be overly trusting when dealing with his father and his minions, even minions that had been his first. "How do I know that for sure?"

Ramon shrugged. "You'll just have to trust that I've seen how vindictive you can be, and I don't want to cross you."

This reasoning made sense to Daniel. And, he admitted to himself, he would either have to accept it or find a more permanent solution. "Well, if this doesn't work out, you can always come back to me."

"I--" Ramon broke off, then: "Sure. I'll keep it in mind."

This would have to do, for now.

"How about opinions? You can surely share your thoughts with an old former boss now coworker? It wouldn't be--" He had to twist his mouth around the words, "inappropriate workplace etiquette for us to be friends, would it?"

Ramon gave him a wary look. "Your friends are immune to getting targeted by missiles from second hand hardsuits? Zapped by mind control machines? Poison coffee?" He picked his cup up and stared into it dubiously.

Daniel waved all this off. "Of course, of course. So tell me... are you still in contact with that mousy barista from Florida?"

"What, Mina? The one who keeps running into you and alternately spoiling your plans and helping you? No. Why? You finally done underestimating her?"

"I just saw you two getting sandwiches together... I thought you might be..." Daniel made a gesture which caused Ramon to roll his eyes.

"So you think any two people in public together are screwing?"

This had indeed been the basis of Daniel's hypothesis, but when put like that it did seem weak. "She seemed like your type... boring. Unable to wear stiletto heels convincingly. Sympathetic to your indolent ways." 

Ramon gave his coffee a (Daniel thought) deliberately theatrical slurp before answering. "Pretty sure she's gay, boss."

"Gay!" How would this new intelligence affect his plans? Daniel leaned back, thinking. A few seconds later, his powerful analytical genius informed him that it would not affect his plans in the slightest. A waste of his powerful analytical genius, that tidbit. Still, it wouldn't do to sound ungrateful. "That is most useful, thank you. Now tell me what you think about the crime situation in Jacksonville!"

"I think the crime is so high because it's the only place with that many Republicans in that big of a city--"

"So, mundane causes!" Daniel thought strategically about his reply. "Thank you! I value your thoughts because we are friends!" 

"O-kay... well as your *friend*, my opinion is that you should have stopped at 'thank you' before you laid it on too thick."

"You dare correct my verbiage? I will incinerate you with--" Daniel forced himself to shut up, his face contorting in a series of grimaces which must have been amusing, to judge from the smirk on his ex-henchman's face.

"I'll give you another opinion." Ramon said thoughtfully. "You're more honest than your dad."

Daniel stopped making faces, except for gaping. "What is *that* supposed to mean?"

"I dunno. You figure it out."

"Master."

Daniel jumped so far into the air for a moment he thought he was still wearing jets on his feet. "Blago! Good afternoon--is the movie over already?"

"Master?" Ramon asked, eyebrow lifted.

"I have many thoughts about the movie, master. I have always valued loyalty, so I would have expected to identify with Andrey the most. And yet, as the film drew me deeper in, I felt more and more an affinity with Katya. Strange, no? This man," he looked down at Ramon, "Reminds me more of--"

"Not at all!" Said Daniel as he recovered, awkwardly throwing his arm around the mage as he turned them both away. "Goncharov is known for drawing the strangest of parallels--I've always felt myself a Mario man, and I don't mean the plumber! Why don't we sit down at this table--" far away from Ramon's booth, "--and you can tell me your thoughts. Did you spot any occult symbolism the layman might miss?" The last question had been a stroke of genius, for the stolid face lit up and began to produce a babble that Daniel's scientifically trained mind couldn't begin to process. He had lied to the mage too, telling him that he was more like Mario. Daniel had always, for whatever reason, seen his echo in the mysterious protagonist, Goncharov himself. That should show the fool Ramon who was honest!

"Goncharov, huh?" Ramon muttered to himself as they walked away. "Never seen it. Sure seems to be a lot more hype than movie, though."

*****

Savannah, present

Maow scampered off to chase pigeons and distract passerby, and Mina settled herself on the park bench to wait. She tried to read the book she had brought but couldn't focus, and soon shifted her attention to something more absorbing: trying to get M00sblr's spotty search function to cough up anything about an assassin who appeared in bodies made of random inanimate matter. 

It was the afternoon of the day Elemental said she would appear, and Mina wanted to be prepared. With a regretful sigh, she finished her glass bottle of cream soda and set it aside, smiling as her eye caught Maow in the distance, loping along at far below her top speed, her tail twitching just out of reach of a handful of screaming children.

A slight movement beside her. Mina turned her head quickly enough to catch the end of her empty soda bottle's transformation. The transparent form sitting next to her raised its arms in a stretch, like a person waking their body up after a long rest.

"Hello, Mina. Had a fun week?"

Mina kept her breath steady. Elemental was mesmerizing, light coming through the trees catching her 'skin' and breaking off in sparkles. She must be made of a layer of glass as thick as a soap bubble, one Mina could shatter with a touch, but she mustn't allow that to distract her from how dangerous this creature was. Slowly, she reached into the satchel she had brought and drew forth the wand.

"Are you Sandy White, the owner of--"

"That tacky thing? Definitely not. I'd like to hear how you got it, though. Did your blue eyed catgirl help you sniff it out?"

Somewhat nonplussed at being denied so abruptly (but what had she expected?) Mina answered her. "I... just walked into the Milk Wizard store and asked?"

"You just walked in and asked?" Elemental cried, "This was... oh yes, Sal White must be her brother." She paused. "Oh, dear. I hope he didn't--well never mind. If he snitched then nothing came of it. Mina, I really thought you'd do something sensibly illegal. Breaking and entering and burglary, yay! Instead you just... asked nicely?" She shook her shimmering head which, Mina noticed, seemed to have some kind of elaborate hairdo sculpted onto it. "Well, it's your task and you can do it however you please. I can't argue with your results... except to say that you were just plain wrong this time."

"Will you really grant me a boon if I do this--this guessing game?"

It was hard to read the features on that glassy face, but Elemental seemed to be studying her. Finally she spoke. "I can't make you believe anything I say. I can't make you play with me either. If you want to quit... that's your right. But I won't promise to never visit you again."

"Because I'm interesting or amusing or whatever." Mina said dully.

"Because you're interesting or amusing or," an emphatic pause, "*whatever.* It's my right to go wherever I want and see whatever I want and visit whoever I want. That's the best power this existence gives me, and it gives me a *lot*."

"Are you really a ghost?"

"Oh! That would be telling. You have figured out I don't really have a body, I suppose, but I can do things regular ghosts can't. I'm glad," she seemed almost bashful, "that you're still curious. There are so many things that--but now's not the time. You've learned there's such a thing as a milk wizard... which I get is kind of gross, but there's so much else out there. I'll give you a little something for free: magic talent runs in catgirls; though, being creatures born of technology, they don't often pursue it." As she spoke, she melted, contracting into a glass sphere which, completed, sat neatly balanced on one of the bench's wooden slats.

Mina stared out into the park, where a wailing Maow was now covered in children. "Milk wizard." She said to herself, "Magic catgirls. What else?"

WHAT ELSE INDEED?

IS MAOW GOING TO SHED ON THE FURNITURE?

IS MAOW GOING TO HAVE TO SLEEP OUTSIDE?

HOW MANY READERS FIGURED OUT WHO DANIEL AND RAMON ARE?

DO THEY NEED A HINT?

HOW DO ALL THESE STORYLINES RELATE TO EACH OTHER ANYWAY?

FIND OUT OR NOT ONLY ON SUPERGUY!

Copyright (c) 2022 by Whitney Taylor. All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note: Wilhelm was the name of a mage and prophet who was involved in the original Industrial Revolution storyline, and died there. Mina is not named after him in either Watsonian or Doylist sense, but it is a fairly unusual name and I thought it likely that Theodore (a knowledgeable mage and fairly talented fortune teller in his own right) would note this, and comment upon it.