Wednesday, September 5, 2018

(f/f) SG: Reflecting Upon Reflections (or Caustic Illusions) Part F

[Beginning of Part F]


                                ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤

                            Wednesday Afternoon
                                 (Eastern)
                           A.L.U.C.H.Q.M.O.U.S.E.
                                B Tower Lift
                                 Boston, MA



     Mental was tired. It had been the longest week of his life -- which,
given the literal decades he spent completely alone in the Wasteland, was
saying something. But... it was getting better. Samantha was doing better.
Roger and Melody had at least tentative plans to stop being two beings in
one body. Charlie was recovering well. Burt had gotten his sense of humor
back. Even Phobos was doing well -- Summer having a lot to do with that. And
yes, they were working out the particulars of both repairing Stately Ward
Manor and closing up the Mob's outstanding business, but even those weren't
*too* bad.

     Really, if it wasn't for how depressed Hellfire was and the fact that
Maria... *existed*... he'd be doing just fine. But... he knew he'd get over
it with time, and hopefully Hellfire would too. He was glad they were going
to try and help her. He wasn't happy she'd be around the Chick-Mouse, but he
could endure it.

     The lift doors opened, and Mental stepped inside. "So... where exactly
am I going, JOEL?"

     «You know, most people ask that question before they get in an
elevator.»

     "I am so not most people."

     «And, well, we're goin' up to twelve, where we have the cybernetics
lab. It's where we have Jenny's support system going and stuff like that.»

     "And that's why I'm on my way up there? Jenny-stuff?"

     «Well, yeah. See, you're more or less in charge of Mob stuff right now,
and Jenny's Phobos and Summer's daughter, but since we still don't have
Xolchaportation to Team M.E.C.H.A.'s old place back up and running they
can't just zap over here. And we want to discuss a couple of options, and
you're the best person to do that with because of all the stuff I just
said.»

     "Of course. She's all right, isn't she?"

     «Oh, yeah. She's still in a sleep-mode state, but she's healthy -- when
we have stuff built for her, she'll be able to move right in, no data
integrity lost.»

     "Thank God." He paused. "We're absolutely sure, right? I mean, I trust
you but--"

     «Hey -- I've woken her up, briefly. She's okay.»

     "Wait -- you have? How? She doesn't have a processing... JOEL... did
you... run Jenny as an instance on your system?"

     «I got the idea from Roger and Melody! It works fine, but we don't want
to take any chances, and since the stuff we need to talk about requires some
serious thought I don't want my opinions to prejudice the process. No
worries! And you want room B-1202.»

     "Right. Right. Sure thing." Mental stepped out onto the twelfth floor
of B-Tower. It had more of a hum than a lot of floors. He knew this wasn't
where JOEL's core processors were, but there was still a huge amount of
Xolchaprocessing gear up here. It had that overly dry, weirdly echoey sound
that computer rooms with computer-room-quality HVAC have.

     He opened the door to B-1202, and stepped inside.

     Two women were sitting at a table. They both rose. One he sort of
recognized -- she was in a black uniform with the distinctive outline of
Texas on a patch on her shoulder and insignia of various sorts on her front
-- which as a married man he elected not to stare at too long. Beyond that,
she was a startlingly hot redhead, which itself was another reason not to
stare. The other one--

     The other one was a brunette, with olive skin and long brown hair and
epicanthic folds on her eyes, and Mental didn't even feel badly staring at
her. She was like a sledgehammer to the endocrine system.

     }}Oh me oh my,{{ Samantha said over their telepathic link, amused.
}}I just knew one day you'd finally find my replacement. I just
didn't expect--{{

     {{Hush,}} he sent back. {{I'd be embarrassed but look at her!}}

     }}I am. I don't blame you at all, husband mine. But I'm going to tease
you mercilessly because I can.{{

     "Mental?" The redhead had a Scottish brogue. "I'm Lieutenant Commander
Shauna Campbell of the PDFOHS -Alamo's Revenge's Revenge.- We've been
consulting with JOEL on various projects since the Satanic invasion, and he
had a few ideas that he started discussing with us after Jenny was taken
offline."

     "It's nice to meet you," Mental said, shaking her hand.

     "You seriously went with 'Mental' as a callsign?" the other one asked.
"I'm an authority on stupid names and that? Absolutely takes the cake."

     "It's... nice to meet you too," he said, "Miss--"

     She smiled an unsettling smile. "Vogel. Miss Radar Vogel."

     Mental blinked. "Your name is Radar?"

     "My parents had an unholy love of the television program M*A*S*H."

     "Yeah, you don't get to tease me about my name."

     Radar grinning, giggling. The giggle was even more unsettling. "Oh, I
get to tease you about anything I want."

     Campbell rolled her eyes. "Radar is part of our crew as well -- she
works in the Unholy Abominations Engineering Cluster."

     "...that's quite a nickname," Mental said.

     Campbell and Radar looked at each other, then at Mental. "Nickname?"
Radar asked.

     "...okay. Now that we've set a tone... may I ask what's going on and
how it involves Jenny."

     "Oh, that's simple! I'm going to EXPERIMENT ON HER BRAIN!" Radar
shouted.

     There was a pause.

     "No you're not," Mental said.

     "Aw, please?"

     «It's not really experimenting on her brain,» JOEL said. «See, here's
the thing. Jenny's one of the most complex CI's on the planet, and because
of the nature of her creation she's not exactly someone you can back up.»

     "I remember," Mental said. "Vividly."

     «But redundancy's important, and we're not going to let something like
this happen again, cause this sucked.» JOEL sounded a bit intense. Mental
had sort of suspected the two computer intelligences had been getting
interested in each other before now -- but he didn't realize it was quite
this serious. As it was, JOEL sounded....

     Well, sort of like Mental sounded when Samantha was nearly killed.

     "...I don't think you can colocate her," Mental said. "I mean...
there's a nanotech side to this and that includes some kind of... *thing*
from Summer that..."

     "'Thing?'" Radar asked, arching an eyebrow.

     "Uh -- I'm not a computer science kind of--"

     "No, I like that. We have to *colocate Jenny's Thing!*" She paused.
"Wait, that's dirty."

     «You're right,» JOEL said. «There are aspects to Jenny's personality
that came from Summer's direct interface that can't be expressed in
technological terms, and that means she's limited in what can be done. She
already has some colocation between Stately Ward and the MECHA base, but
that can get weird. So we needed a way of creating that kind of bridge.»

     "Which is where we come in," Campbell said. "Radar's not just a mad
scientist. She's one of the most brilliant minds of Altiverse 001SF."

     "That doesn't begin to describe me!" Radar shouted. "I unlock the very
cosmos! I am the *foremost Spamologist for the entire multiverse!*" She
paused. "Don't ask about the other threemost."

     "Wait -- you're foremost, now?" Campbell asked.

     "Yeah, well, Bing retired and then started drinking this... stuff...
that he got from Ralph--"

     "I believe you. Did you get even shoutier, by the way? Linda says you
never used to be so--"

     "Oh yeah. I upped my brain game, and that means more madness. Plus I'm
showing off for the cute superhero."

     "Isn't he a little young for you?"

     "My last boyfriend was a time traveller."

     "Um, I'm married--" Mental said.

     Radar smiled. "I adore how you think that matters."

     There was a ripple, and Dreamweaver's illusionary self appeared. ⸘"I
adore a lot of things. Dreamweaver. Nice to meet you."‽

     Radar paused, looking Dreamweaver up and down. "Hm...."

     "...Radar...." Campbell said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

     "Fine. Jeez. Anyway. I'm an insane scientist who works with Spam in all
its raw four-dimensional glory, and I've only grown more brilliant and
insane with time."

     ⸘"Wait... are mad scientists supposed to admit to being insane?"‽
Dreamweaver asked.

     "Well... of course." Radar said. "If I couldn't admit it, how could I
harness it? It does no good to overclock the processor if you then run 8 bit
emulators on the thing."

     «That is so not how that works.»

     "All right." Mental said. "Can we please get back to how this affects
Jenny?"

     «Well, it ties back in. We need to create a bridge that bends time and
space in ways that don't normally happen, that she can use as an escape
hatch. And, you know -- it'd be a potential retirement option for me too.»

     ⸘"This thing will work on Xolchatech?"‽ Dreamweaver asked.

     "This thing *uses* Xolchatech," Radar said, her malevolent grin
growing. "Which I then can apply to Spamology!"

     ⸘"Oh, hey, that sounds safe."‽

     "The ultimate goal is to create redundant safe cells for Jenny that she
can move between, observing them all independently and able to revest
herself between them." Campbell unrolled a blueprint on a nearby table. "For
maximum capability, this includes the most advanced mobile computational
frame."

     Mental paused. "Most advanced...  on Earth? On your ship?"

     "The most advanced," Radar said. "It doesn't need to be qualified."

     Campbell tapped the blueprint. "It's called the Full Body Prosthesis,
mark one, gynoid type. It runs on an ABPSARI core which also gives it
multiversal and temporal capacity, it has extradimensional spaces that can
be purpose driven, it includes a wide variety of scanning and weapons
technologies... and a bunch of stuff we stole off a guy named Natchwald."

     "And... it's *cute.*" Radar pointed at the corner, where the FBP-1g was
depicted.

     ⸘"It's... an android body? That Jenny could host herself in?"‽
Dreamweaver sounded stunned.

     "It's an android body that Jenny could host herself in... while also
being resident in microcells in your mansion, that other base, here in
JOEL's place, maybe an extra bank on the -Alamo's Revenge's Revenge-..."
Campbell grinned.

     "It's nothing of the sort!" Radar shouted. "It's a *gynoid* body!
Androids are male! Or sometimes genderless!"

     "And the thing is, the prototype is one thing," Campbell said, "but if
this works, we could potentially use it as durable medical equipment in
extreme circumstances."

     "Meaning...?" Mental asked.

     ⸘"Meaning they could potentially stick a mortally wounded human being's
psyche and soul in a gynoid body before their body died,"‽ Dreamweaver said,
eyes wide.

     "Naturally," Radar said. "We're calling it a Full Body Prosthesis for a
*reason‽."

     "So... to sum up..." Mental said. "You want permission to build Jenny a
new system... that will include multiple paradimensionally bridged sites..."
Mental said, eyes wide.

     ⸘"And let her interact as a gynoid without actually removing her from
her installations," Dreamweaver murmured. "So she'll be the CI for Stately
Ward and the MECHA base, have a backup here, and also be able to tag along
with me on a trip to the mall?"‽

     «Essentially? Yeah. So. Can we do it?»

     Mental and Dreamweaver looked at each other.

     "We'll get back to you," they said in unison.

     "Ugh," Radar said. "Prudence is the enemy of innovation!"

     "I am so on your side here," Campbell said to Mental and Dreamweaver.

     "Thanks," Mental said. "We... need to talk about this with Phobos and
Summer. Can we borrow that blueprint?"

     Radar drew a DIESCUM pistol out of a concealed holster. "Let me think
about that."

     The pistol flew out of her hand and set itself on the table, well away
from Radar.

     "Ugh. Telekinesis. I can tell working with you people's going to be a
*drag.*"


                                ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤


                            Wednesday Afternoon
                                 (Eastern)
                           A.L.U.C.H.Q.M.O.U.S.E.
                       B Tower Medium Detention Level
                                 Boston, MA



     Maria had finally slept. She'd curled up in a ball in the middle of the
floor. She was staying down. Standing was too difficult in her bare feet,
and she had nowhere to go anyway. She'd had some broth too -- not that it
mattered, since she couldn't taste it. Mostly, she just stared.

     The door to the detention block opened. There were footsteps, and a
flicker of light from that side of the room.

     Maria froze. *Oh God... no... no please...*

     Her visitor walked up to the front of the containment cell. Her head
was wreathed in flames. The rest of her was sealed into a golden and copper
bodysuit. She had been standing next to Maria when Maria went from being
super powered to being trapped in her mirrored form. Like Maria, her life as
she knew it had ended. The shared incident had driven them together -- she
was the closest friend Maria had ever had. Closer than Phobos, even.

     "Hello, Maria," Hellfire said, softly. In her right gloved hand she was
holding a canvas bag.

     "Hello, Hellfire," Maria answered, as softly.

     Hellfire looked around. "Do they... do they not give you anything to do
in here?"

     "They offered. I don't really want to do anything."

     "I know what that's like." Hellfire looked at Maria. "You trapped me in
a metal tube."

     "Yes."

     "You trapped me and sealed me inside a metal tube, that you then were
entombing in concrete, letting my flames die down to below an ember."

     "Yes, I did."

     "You were going to leave me there forever, ironically forcing me into
sensory deprivation even worse than yours."

     "Yeah."

     "You knew that's what would happen, and you did it anyway."

     "Yes."

     She nodded. "You stabbed Tim in the stomach and threw a walking brain
at him, after you made him think that his whole life was a delusion. You
nailed Samantha with allergens and spiked her epipen, so that she'd have no
chance of survival. Her and her unborn twin daughters. You literally helped
them brand and poison Charlie, trapped Burt in a box made out of his own
powers, strapped Melody and Roger into an artifact that was literally
tearing their souls to shreds, and I don't even want to talk about Phobos."

     Maria nodded. "I did all those things."

     "And all because some guy made you orgasm."

     Maria paused, then nodded. "Yes."

     Hellfire looked at her for a long moment.

     "Don't do that again," Hellfire said, slightly choked up. "That's
over the line. Okay?"

     Maria blinked. "Okay."

     "I mean it. Never again."

     "All right." She paused. "Except... I don't know if I can keep that
promise. If he were here right now--"

     "Wah wah. Suck it up, Maria. Don't do that again."

     Maria looked at Hellfire, then nodded. "I'll try."

     "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Okay. I brought you some real clothes.
Slippers we can tighten after they're on. A loose bodysuit. JOEL's going to
let me in and you're going to let me help you get dressed. I'm afraid it
has... um... a convenience flap. Because getting it back on if you took it
off to--"

     "...I get it. Right. Hellfire... I... I don't... I don't deserve..."

     "Damn right you don't! But I'm not your friend because you deserve it,
you idiot. Now strip." She paused. "That came out wrong."

     Maria, despite herself, snickered. "You think?"

     "Little bit of a feeling, yeah." Hellfire paused. "Are you crying?"

     "...I can cry if I want to."

     "I'm not arguing. I'm just jealous. My tears just evaporate."
Hellfire's smile was clear even through the flames. "I am pretty pissed at
you, you know."

     "I know."

     "Cool."


                                ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤

                               Friday Evening
                                 (Pacific)
                              Blue Moon Tavern
                                Seattle, WA


     "Is there a ramen place in Seattle? I could *really* go for real ramen,
and some food would do you good while you're drinking the gallon of water
I'm going to pour down your drunken throat." Chalandra sounded amused.

     "Chal? Tell me again why you bother eating?"

     "Ramen is its own reward, Liz."

     "Right. Koraku should be open. There's usually a wait."

     "I'm eternal. Is there a dress code?"

     "At Koraku? I think they require shoes and demand you cover your
shame."

     "Oh, well. I'll never get in then." Chalandra waved the server over,
getting out her black card.

     "That's okay. We can wander the International District and get picked
up as vagrants."

     "Now *that* is a party." Chalandra nodded as the server took her card
to be run. "Faith would never have transcended without you, Liz."

     Elizabeth blinked. "What?"

     Chalandra turned to face her. "Just what I said. Why did it take
Akane's death for Faith to transcend? Because he loved her and he had to
push beyond or she'd die. If it had been you, he'd have done the same thing.
But it wasn't you because you never died on his watch. Thanks to him, your
general awesomeness, and the rest of us, I'd add -- Hell, even Akane had to
metaphorically seduce a guy into shooting her in the head. But if you hadn't
been with Faith all those years... if you hadn't given him everything you
gave and gotten everything he offered? He'd never had found the will. Akane
would have just died. And Faith... I don't even know what would have
happened to him, but it would have been a disaster.

     "Faith transcended because you made it possible. And the Mob all
survived the worst day of their lives because you taught them how to survive
the worst day of their lives, coupled with showing up when they needed you,
without fail and without complaint. Without you and that school,
Dangerousgirl and the Dash would never have been there in the first place,
Momentum would have fallen into that trap and they'd all be dead now."
Chalandra slipped out of her seat, prompting Elizabeth to do the same. "And
to cap it all off, you put yourself on the line to save them. So maybe you
weren't the lionized hero at the center of it all. Maybe you didn't die so
Faith could transcend. Maybe the papers won't put up a headline saying
'Healer boldly saves the Mob.' You have to get over that. Because God damn
it, you made it all possible. Believe me. I don't show up in Seattle on a
Friday Night and go to a dive bar instead of the Fenix for a loser." She
poked Elizabeth in the center of the chest. "I got *out* of this business,
remember?"

     Elizabeth nodded. "Okay. Okay, yeah."

     "Good." Chalandra signed the slip the server brought back, tipping
perhaps a bit overly much.

     "So I've always been this... needy-narcissistic?" The two were walking
to the door. Elizabeth seemed more on an even keel now.

     "Kinda. It's all our fault, really. We totally should have gotten you a
catchphrase."

     "A what?"

     "A catchphrase. Trust me, Liz -- the first time you heard Key and Yury
shout 'it's not my fault' you had the *worst* catchphrase envy. Frankly, it
was a little embarrassing."

     Elizabeth laughed. "Well, yeah. Their catchphrase was awesome. And if I
so desperately wanted to be the center of attention -- you had to admit they
got a lot of attention for that catchphrase."

     "Usually bad attention. Or the real attention came from their jiggling
as they shouted it. You and I both had the bad habit of going into battle
while wearing clothes."

     "Oh come on. You saw my first uniform."

     "And I didn't throw up. So you know my will is iron. Seriously. Studded
back panels and feathered hair?"

     "I was trying to be cool!"

     "Yeah, well. Swing and a miss." She grinned as they stepped out into
the cool Seattle night air. "Hey, Liz?" She smirked a bit.

     "Yeah?"

     Chalandra bit her lip conspiratorially. "Do you still have that
Healer-kini Key got you?"

     "The red and white HotFlash and MeltDown thing? Why would I possibly
keep that atrocity?"

     "Yeah, but do you?"

     "...yes."

     The two walked down the street, towards where they could grab a cab to
the International District. Chalandra grinned. "I kept mine too. How is it
of the three of us, Akane was the only one to wear hers where people could
see?"

     "She bet against Team Cynical in their softball game with the Awesome
Force."

     "Right! That's right. Who'd be stupid enough to do that?"

     "As I recall? You. Did you ever finish restocking and cataloging
Badass's armory?"

     Chalandra had a reply, which made Elizabeth laugh, but it was too far
away for someone standing in front of the Blue Moon Tavern to hear.



                                ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤



     You say you're tired
     How I hate to hear you use that word
     Every time it hurts
     You say you're tired
     How I hate to hear you use that word
     Everybody hurts

     Who am I to say
     I know the way you feel?
     I've felt your pain
     And I know your sorrow
     You could try to let the past slip away
     Live for today
     Don't stop believing in tomorrow.


     --Warren Zevon, "Never Too Late For Love"



                                ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤

                                  CREDITS


       The Teen Team, Mason's Mazin' Mob, Phobos, Mental, Mighty Dog,
          Dreamweaver, Roger Nobody, Melody Pernicious, Mime Man,
                        Maria Mendez, and Sensation
                                were created
                             by Mason L. Kramer

            Random Encounters was a parody derivative character
               created by Mason L. Kramer under fair use for
                            satirical purposes.

                                 Mighty Guy
                                was created
                      by Eric Burns-White and appears
                         courtesy of Gary W. Olson

                  Elizabeth Tirkoff and Chalandra Harkness
                                were created
                              by Gary W. Olson

                     Special Special Agent Richard Less
                                was created
                              by Chris Wilcox

                        Andy Awesome and Anne Enger
                                were created
                              by Dominic White

                               Nouveau Skunk
                                was created
                        by Robert "The Beez" Beeler

                          Dangerousman was created
                                     by
                             William R. Dickson

                                Radar Vogel
                                was created
                               by Jeff Smith

                              Shauna Campbell
                                was created
                            by Frank Orzechowicz


    The Superguy List is a shared comedic universe with a collaborative
       shared history which is referenced and subsequently influenced
                               by this work.
                         We gratefully acknowledge
                 the dozens of Superguy and Sfstory Authors
                      who made and make this possible.

                    Annotations and Notes for this story
                              can be found at


          With thanks to Gary Olson for his review and assistance,
            and the generous availability of Chalandra Harkness.

        Cybernetics and other technical support graciously provided
                             by Matthew Gerber.

                Bruce Rogers's suits provided by Botany 500
               in exchange for this promotional announcement.

                Trudy Galloway did not appear in this story
                   but we have to pay her appearance fee
                        and second bill her anyway.
                           Her agent is amazing.

(e/f) SG: Reflecting Upon Reflections (or Caustic Illusions) Part E

[Beginning of Part E]



                                ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤


                            Wednesday Afternoon
                                 (Eastern)
                           A.L.U.C.H.Q.M.O.U.S.E.
                       B Tower Medium Detention Level
                                 Boston, MA



     Maria was sitting on the floor of her cell. She didn't bother sitting
on the bed -- a bed or a floor all felt the same to her. She was still
wearing the robe she'd been given -- it was easier than getting into clothes
without Phobos's ingenious machinery stitching the clothing into place
around her. Besides, it didn't matter. She'd be wearing prison orange soon
enough.

     "Miss Mendez?"

     Maria looked up.

     Nouveau Skunk -- that superhero-slash-lawyer -- was standing there,
along with Trashman and Healer.

     So it was time.

     "Miss Mendez?" Nouveau Skunk asked again.

     "Yes," she said, softly.

     "How are you feeling?"

     Maria snorted. "Numb." She looked down. "I always feel numb."

     The memory of pure tactile overload flashed through her brain --
Sensation flooding her with the most incredible pleasure anyone had ever
felt, the most hideous pain anyone had ever endured, the most--

     She shook her head. "How I feel doesn't matter," she said. "How's...
how's Samantha? And Tim and Charlie and--"

     "They're alive," Trashman said, coolly. "And they're going to stay that
way, at least for now."

     Maria paused, then nodded. "Good," she muttered. "So... I know I
haven't spoken to a public defender or anything but... I'm just going to
plead guilty to whatever. I mean, it's true, right--"

     "We've been discussing the case with different authorities," Healer
said. "Along with members of the Mob, particularly Burt. We've needed to be
in contact with certain supervising authorities anyhow, since Momentum's
relocating here for the foreseeable future. That gave us a chance to go
through options."

     "What options?" Maria said, sniffing. "I did it. I'm guilty. I..."

     Samantha desperately trying to find breath. Tim in a catatonic state,
bleeding from a wound she'd given him, a monster clinging to his head.
Charlie locked down in a press and being branded. Burt in an ever-shrinking
invisible box. Fragments of Phobos's armor on the floor--

     Maria hunched in on herself.

     "Yes," Trashman. "You did it."

     "But... and this is important, Maria... you were under the influence of
mental coercion." Healer sounded more compassionate than Trashman did. But
then, everyone did.

     "I wasn't mind controlled."

     "That's true," Healer said. "But you were being subjected to stimuli
much greater than people can normally process. That, plus your normal state
of sensory deprivation..."

     Maria swallowed. "Ma'am... I... I have to ask..."

     Healer paused. "Yes?"

     "Why... why don't you heal me? Of my powers. I mean... they say you can
do that."

     A shadow crossed Healer's face. "I can, yes," she said. "More properly,
I can normalize and remove the psiological triggers within the mind that
allow for powers to be harnessed and controlled. I can't revert physical
conditions. Ironically... if you had control over your mirror force, I could
heal you of it. Since you don't, all I could do is make it even harder for
you to control it."

     Maria stared, then looked down. "Of course," she said.

     "To be frank, Miss Mendez, your case is neither cut nor dry," Nouveau
Skunk said. "It's obvious you weren't operating in a normal state of mind,
and as obvious you were under a program of conditioning as potent as any
brainwashing I've ever heard of. Resisting would be nigh impossible.
Dangerousgirl herself reported on Sensation's powers--"

     Maria snorted. "I didn't *resist*," she said. "After... after we spent
the night together, he made it clear that he'd make me feel good if I helped
and hurt me if I didn't. And... I didn't care. I preferred the pleasure to
the pain but even the pain was better than..." She took a breath. "I
*cooperated.* And the more he rewarded me, the more I cooperated. And so
help me God if he were here right now and he told me to kill all three of
you I would do it in a heartbeat."

     "We know," Trashman said.

     Healer looked somber. "Maria... conditioning techniques work best when
you don't feel like you're being conditioned. You remember cooperating, but
that was after a night of being overstimulated in ways quite frankly none of
us can imagine. I've been your teacher for some time. I hope I've been your
friend, too. And the woman I've gotten to know wouldn't do the things you
did."

     "Then maybe you don't know me."

     "Maybe we don't," Trashman said. "And you're right about one thing.
Whether or not you were conditioned, you made *choices*, Maria. Even at the
end, you only turned on Random Encounters because Sensation was killed--"

     Maria winced, looking away. Dead... and with him any hope of--

     Trashman paused, then continued. "You made choices. And they do have
consequences. Serious ones. And you are clearly a danger. To others, and to
yourself. We're not going to pretend otherwise."

     "The question," Nouveau Skunk said, picking up the thread, "is whether
or not your choices meet the criteria of criminal acts. You were undoubtedly
under mental coercion. Was it enough to explain your choices?"

     "Ask Healer," Maria muttered. "She could answer that much, at least."

     "Not in a legal sense," Healer said. "Even if the answer were clear to
me -- which it probably wouldn't be. It's nowhere near easy to work out
motivation even when you can examine a psyche directly. In the end... it's
about our judgement."

     "If I were your defense counsel," Nouveau Skunk said, "I would
absolutely be driving for acquittal. I think there is unquestionable
'reasonable doubt' surrounding your actions. And if you do go to trial, I'm
likely to *be* your defense counsel."

     "I can't afford you," Maria said. "All my money came from Burt."

     "I'd work pro bono. It's important that you know that. And even if you
elected to plead guilty, I'd move to strike your plea on mental health
grounds. Would it work? I've no idea."

     "He's right," Trashman said. He was still cool. Clearly he wasn't here
to be 'good cop.' "If you go to trial, there's an excellent chance you would
be acquitted, or at the very least remanded to mental health services. But
it would still be on your record, and no matter how 'unquestionable' Skunk's
'reasonable doubt' is, whether or not a jury agreed is far from certain."

     "We've been talking with officials," Healer said. "With authorities and
experts, with Academy personnel, and with... your former teammates."

     Maria closed her eyes. There it was. She knew it, of course, but there
was that confirmation. Maria Mendez. Mirror Maid. Reflective Lass. Reflects.
Member of the Teen Team, of Mason's Mazin' Mob... and now of nothing at all.

     Healer let Maria absorb the impact of her words. "Frankly... we all
agree on one thing, Maria. We all agree that it doesn't serve the needs of
justice or of your former teammates and the crimes committed against them
for you to be thrown in the Really-Really-Hard-To-Get-Out-Of-Place. You did
some terrible things. But you also had terrible things done *to* you. You're
a victim too."

     Maria snorted. "Not hardly. I'd think you two--" Nouveau Skunk didn't
count for these purposes "--would understand better than most. When I fought
Dangerousgirl I was *trying* to kill her. And I *loved it*. I wanted her to
*die*."

     Trashman continued to look at Maria -- that piercing gaze... those
scary eyes. "Interesting," he said, softly. "I could say the exact same
thing, only about Dangerous*man*. It's... oddly satisfying to smack that
smug overconfident look off their nuclear powered faces, isn't it?"

     Maria blinked, looking shocked. Healer and Nouveau Skunk looked equally
surprised.

     "Isn't it?" Trashman asked, quietly.

     "...yes," she said. "God, I did so much to the people I love most in
the world..." her voice broke. "But driving into Dani with all my strength
and power... I *loved* it."

     "Yes, you did," Trashman said. "And I loved punching Dangerousman. But
I wouldn't have done it had I not been under mental duress, my usual
restraint suppressed. And when I was confronted by Dangerousgirl's wife, and
I told her that... she reminded me that Dangerousman himself had spent his
life being conditioned into seeing the world in terms of goals and
acceptable losses." Trashman cocked his head slightly, still looking at her.
"He's gotten better, and so have I. If you want so badly to go to prison,
I'm sure you could talk your way into it. Getting better instead... would be
harder. More painful. And it would mean being confronted with former
friends, teammates, and loved ones. And don't kid yourself... even if
Nobody, Melody, Momentum, Mighty Dog, Hellfire, Mental, Phobos, Dreamweaver,
Mime Man, and Summer all agreed that you deserved a chance to better
yourself... even if they all agree that you were under mental coercion...
most of them *hate* you. And what we're offering will mean *seeing* that,
day in and day out. And the other Academy students aren't feeling very
charitable about you either."

     Maria stared for a moment, then looked at Healer. "The Academy?"

     "We would be bringing you in under similar conditions as Momentum,"
Healer said. "Albeit with greater restrictions, at least at first. Assuming
the courts agree, but they're likely to do so, given the Mob's assent. And
Trashman's right. There'd be no hiding from what happened. But that also
means having the chance to make it right. For yourself and for them."

     "Miss Mendez," Nouveau Skunk said, "I believe quite firmly that you can
be a great, great hero. I believe that with Healer's teaching and counseling
and therapy -- and oh yes, you would be going into therapy as part of this
-- you can get past this and end up stronger than you were before. But the
process? Will *suck*."

     "It's not fair to the others," Maria said. "They shouldn't... they
shouldn't have to see me..."

     ⸘"Don't flatter yourself, Mendez."‽

     Maria jumped, her leg hitting the floor directly which caused her to
skid to the side frictionlessly, until she bounced off the bed she hadn't
used. Healer and Nouveau Skunk looked surprised, too. Trashman was the only
one to not look away from Maria.

     Maria stared at the woman in the black robes and hooded cloak. The
woman who had been one of her best friends in the world for years and years
-- who'd always been on her side, who'd always been close, and
compassionate, and warm.

     Maria didn't see any of that, now. "Samantha," she choked out.

     ⸘"Dreamweaver,"‽ Dreamweaver said, firmly. ⸘"Don't fool yourself, Ms.
Mendez. You're not on a first name basis with any of us. Not any more. And
before you feel too much relief that I'm here, bear in mind I'm 'here'
because Mental is helping me perceive things and I'm casting an illusion of
myself down there. I'm in a hospital bed. They had to drive a tube through
my throat to save my life. My life, and the lives of my children. We're not
forgiving you for that, Ms. Mendez. Not by a long shot."‽

     "That's... that's why I shouldn't--"

     ⸘"Shouldn't what? Force us to see you? See the reminder of what
happened to us? You'd like that. It'd be easy. You'd be able to avoid us.
Well... except maybe in your dreams."‽ Dreamweaver's chin went up. ⸘"You
don't get off that easily. We all agreed you should have this chance. If any
of us had said no, then they wouldn't be offering you this path. That
doesn't mean any of us forgive you. That doesn't mean all of us... or any of
us... ever will. No, you get to see us. You get to be reminded of your
choices, and what they did to us. You get to have the reminder, day in and
day out, of everything you had and lost."‽ She paused again. ⸘"And maybe,
just maybe, you get to make up for some of it. It's your choice. But don't
you dare use us as a convenient excuse for why you won't try. You don't get
that easy out."‽ She rose into the air. ⸘"Do it or don't. It's your choice,
not ours. Sleep tight."‽

     And then Dreamweaver was gone.

     Healer took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "That was
inappropriate--"

     "No it wasn't," Trashman said. "I knew they were doing it. Mental was
seeing through my eyes."

     Healer blinked. "What?"

     "There probably won't be a Mob any more. We know that--"

     Maria blinked. Oh no. *Oh no*.

     "--but for now there is, and they haven't formally removed her from it.
For this one last moment, she was still a Mobster, and they had both a right
and a responsibility to see how she was being treated and what she was being
offered." He paused. "And I have been informed that they have now made a
decision, and Miss Mendez has officially been expelled from Mason's Mazin'
Mob, with prejudice. And Mental has dropped his connection to me following
that."

     Healer was still staring at Trashman. She then looked back. "Well," she
said. "That being said--"

     Maria looked down. "I don't... they fired me. I deserved it. But I
don't have to do what they say."

     "No, you don't," Nouveau Skunk said. "And even if you were acquitted or
remanded to other mental health services, you wouldn't need to serve any of
that here."

     Maria nodded. "I'll do it," she whispered. "I agree."

     Trashman nodded. "I figured you would."

     "You should think it over," Healer said. "You're going to be held until 
we can have that court date, but I'll be down to work with you."

     "And I'll go over your options with you," Nouveau Skunk said. "All of
them. And if you want a public defender as well, we'll have one brought in."

     Maria nodded. "Okay."

     "I'll be back later," Healer said.

     "Sure."

     Maria watched them go. She closed her eyes. They mentioned Melody in
the list of Mobsters. Was she-- were they... no, they said they were
breaking up...

     Maria's eyes opened. Wait. There was a name they *didn't* mention.

     "JOEL?" she half-whispered.

     «Yeah, Miss Mendez?» the Xolchaintellect responded. He'd been more
formal with her since she was first confined than she'd ever heard him be
with anyone.

     "How's..." she swallowed. "How's Jenny?"

     There was no reason JOEL should ever need to pause -- he thought so
much faster than human brains could, after all... but pause he did.

     «I'm afraid that information is confidential,» he answered. «Do you
need anything, Miss Mendez?»

     "...no. No I don't."


                                ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤

                              Thursday Morning
                                 (Eastern)
                               Palm Beach, FL



     Inside a studio, inside a building, a man spoke into a microphone. He
was recovering from accidental injuries, and he was speaking on political
topics. More than one caller into the show said he sounded clearer and more
focused than he had in some time, which confused him slightly though he
thanked them.

     On the roof of a studio, a man in armor, a cape, and a mask was looking
down, seeing through the roof to where the man was talking.

     There was a rush of air. The Masked Bruce looked up, accelerating his
speed and perceptions.

     "Hey there," the Dash said. She was his friend, his teammate, and his
girlfriend, not necessarily in that order. He was one of the very few who
could understand her, whether she was at full speed or not. He was one of
only two people who could talk with her normally without her needing to take
special care. "Watching him?"

     "Watching him," the Masked Bruce confirmed, looking back down. He
created an image so the Dash could as well, though of course at their speed
he looked immobile.

     "It doesn't seem fair -- him just... going back to his life."

     "He didn't," the Masked Bruce said. "I've confirmed it. He has
literally had every trace of 'Random Encounters' wiped away. All his occult
knowledge. All the Mob's secrets. All his obsessions. The man who nearly
killed them is gone. He's now effectively the man who would have existed
without that terrible past. For all intents and purposes, Random Encounters
was executed."

     The Dash shivered. "I'm not sure that's better. So he's not..."

     "Evil?" the Masked Bruce shrugged. "He's a blowhard, and he's got
opinions. I don't like some of them. Is he evil? Ask a priest. But the
objectively evil force that tormented the Mob is just *gone.* And there's no
reason anyone will ask any questions -- since his public life is going on as
per normal."

     "That's... a pretty dense ethical minefield for us to be walking in,"
the Dash said.

     "Is it?" The Masked Bruce looked at his hand, which was glowing golden
with the Oanthet's power. "Would it be better if he'd been executed? Or if
he'd told the world the Mob's secrets?"

     "Does that justify what was done to him?"

     "I'm less worried about him. But he's not suffering. If anything, he's
happier now than he was before. 'Random Encounters' was pretty miserable all
the time. Healer was right about how the dark power he studied had corrupted
him."

     The Dash watched the Masked Bruce for a long moment. "So you're a
telepath, now?"

     "Mm? Oh, yeah. Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition, right?"

     "Sure." She touched his arm. "What are you thinking about?"

     "Just... one little change was made, Jane. Healer reached out and made
one little change, and now the Mob is safe, and the evil is destroyed
forever, and even he's happier and more content." He looked at the glow
coming off his hand. "You say it's an ethical minefield, but who loses out
because of this?"

     "Arguably, Random Encounters."

     "A monstrous creature influenced by fel arcane knowledge who spent
years trying and in a couple cases succeeding at killing teenagers. I'm not
seeing the downside."

     "I don't... I'm not saying there is one. But it's still... we're not
Gods. Not you, or me, or Healer. And this... makes me nervous."

     The Masked Bruce nodded, then frowned.

     "What?"

     "Something you said." He shook his head. "Nothing. I'm just... what
would it mean to the world if we could wipe out evil -- not just beat it
back, but eliminate it at the root, without having to take lives?"

     "I don't know if anyone should ever have that kind of power, Mike."

     "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

     "Anyway -- I've got to get to Europe. There's six hundred and nine
different tasks on my task list--"

     "Yeah. Go. I'll cook dinner." He grinned.

     Jane smiled, and with a rush of speed she was gone.

     The Masked Bruce let speed move back to normal, and looked at the man
once more. "But if you already *have* that kind of power..."

     He looked at his glowing hand once more. He would have to think about
this.


[End of Part E. Part F follows.]