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Our Paranormal Chernobyl A new moon appeared over the Crescent City. It was moving fast, and at its altitude the sphere reflected little city light, but it could be noticed by those with the eyes and ears attuned to the odder wavelengths: On a steel perch above the docks, a creature of wings and teeth and talons looked up to the sky, ears folded back along its head, and growled… A man with waxy skin, asleep in a cardboard box, rolled drunkenly in his sleep, and the newborn things hatching under his skin buzzed hungrily… In a condemned house on the east side, a thirteen year old girl tattooed head to foot in strange designs suddenly sat up in her bedroll, awakened by a nightmare… And in a pitch-black alley in the French Quarter, a man in a white mask and black fedora paused, his finger light on the trigger—and then the moment passed. He fired. Maggie directed DuFord to the main research building of the Thorin Labs campus, and the pilot set the Q-Ball down on the lawn. Maggie led the way down the ramp, followed by Mavis, Lily with the child, Pender, and Goran pushing the still-unconscious Crossfire in his wheelchair. Goo brought up the rear, with the tiny DuFord riding on a thin rod that extended from Goo's shoulder like an antenna. When they were all out, DuFord turned in his perch and pointed at the ball. The ramp retreated into the sphere, the door closed, and the sphere beeped twice, exactly like a Nissan Sentra. The lab's doors opened automatically for Maggie, the group made their way through the darkened space to a freight elevator at the center of the building. The elevator dropped for nearly thirty seconds, then opened to vault door that looked to be made of the same stuff as Maggie's armor. Maggie removed a gauntlet, and put her hand into a slot. A speaker chimed, and the armored door slid smoothly aside. Beyond was a long white hallway ringed by steel bulkheads, and capped by another of those vault doors, this one glowing blue like Maggie's forcefields. "Goodness," DuFord said. At the end of the hall, Maggie again placed her hand in a slot, and the gleaming door swung open. Maggie stepped through, and lights popped on automatically, illuminating a huge space. Tables littered the area, covered with various papers and other scientific paraphernalia—test tubes, measuring instruments, computers, and so on. There didn't seem to be an experiment in progress anywhere visible, however, perhaps for safety reasons. Small alcoves along the walls contained smaller tables with other equipment; four of the alcoves were closed with the same shielded Mithralite doors that they'd just gone through. Large computer or TV screens hung from the ceilings in strategic positions, set up so that at least three of them could be seen from any position in the room. They turned on as the doors open, bringing up a variety of news channels from around the world. The TVs had subtitling on but no sound— the low hum of the Mithralite force shields was the only sound in the room. At first glance, there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to how things were set up, but the onlookers still had the feeling that there was a method to this madness, a certain order that they couldn't quite grasp but that was perfectly familiar and perfectly natural to the hyperactive super-genius. Classification systems, Maggie might say, were for wimps; she had enough brains to remember where she put things. "Welcome to my digs", Maggie said. She giggled. "Well I don't really live here though it sure feels that way sometimes." "This is… impressive," Goran said. Crossfire moaned.1 "I've got a couch over in the back where we can lay Crossfire down," Maggie said. Pender started towards the wheelchair-bound vigilante, then stopped. "I'll—" She put on her most diplomatic tone. "Actually, Mavis, I'm sure you're the most-qualified medical professional here. Would you mind seeing to Crossfire's comfort for the time being?" "Sure," Mavis said, but she was watching Goo. The creature had extruded a pod over Lily's shoulder, and the pod became a wide smiley face. The baby stared at it for a moment, then seemed to lose interest. Mavis shook her head and took the wheelchair from Goran. "If he doesn't wake up soon," Mavis said to Maggie and Pender, "we're going to have to monitor his liquids, maybe start and I.V." "That bad?" Pender asked, surprised. "All Stokes did was hit him. I saw it happen. Is it his leg?" She shook her head. "I don't think so. And he's not in shock. But if he doesn't come out of this comatose state, it could mean there's something serious going wrong." She wheeled him to the couch Maggie had indicated. "A little help, please?" Goran lifted under Crossfire's arms, and Mavis lifted his legs, careful of the cast. "There. Or," she continued, "it could be that he's just sleeping. Is he a metahuman too?" "Not that I'm aware of, no." Pender glanced at Maggie for confirmation. "But there are plenty of metas today, it seems, that I'm not aware of." "Don't think so," Maggie said. "But who knows. He might have become one in the last day for all we know," and at that she glanced meaningfully at Pender. She headed to one of the cabinets and opened it, revealing an array of medical supplies. "I ought to have everything you need here," Maggie said. "Just let me know if you need anything else, or any help. I know my way around medical gear." "Ms. Thorin," Pender said. "Do you have something to eat somewhere in this…" She trailed off, taking in the ordered chaos around her. "…place? DuFord's pantry left a little to be desired, and I know we'll all think better on a full stomach." "I've got a few snacks here," Maggie said, reaching under a desk and pulling out a Twinkie, which she tossed to Pender. "If you want a full meal I can call the company cafeteria and they can make us one. Goran walked back toward the group. "We can't waste too much time, though," he said. "Maggie was right— there's too much going on in Chicago. We need to test Lily and the child." "Certainly," Pender replied. She hesitated, then continued. "Goran, you know Freya Sontag personally; you must be able to tell me something about her personality. What kind of person would terrorize a city to serve her own needs? What kind of despicable, evil person is she? I'm surprised a woman that vile could care about anything, even her own disfigured daughter. I mean, in my line of work, I've seen a lot of monsters, but none like her. Just what are we dealing with here?" Goran halted in his tracks. "Roya isn't 'disfigured,' Agent Pender," he said sharply. "She's not some burn victim. She's a metahuman. Much like yourself." He nodded toward her hand. "That glow, when we shook earlier… what did that signify?" "You tell me," she shot back. "I don't recall it happening with any other handshake lately. At any rate, I didn't mean to upset you. Sorry if I was insensitive about—Roya, is it? But I wasn't asking about her, I was asking about her mother." "I've got to admit," Maggie said, "that I'm curious myself." Goran frowned in thought. "Well, Freya is an interesting case." He ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Maggie, do you know where little shapechangers come from?" He smiled, revealing serrated teeth and fanged incisors. "Big ones." His mouth snapped open, and a jet of fine spray struck Maggie in the face and eyes. The stuff burned like acid. "Ma-a-aggie!" Goo yelled. Blinded, Maggie groaned and stumbled backwards, towards one of the crackling mithralite-shielded doors. She had her doubts about Goran, but hadn't expected that bit—and wished Pender had given her a bit of warning as to her suspicions! First things first: bystanders out of the way. Maggie thumbed the door's control open. "Mavis, Lily—get in here!" she yelled, hoping they could do so without getting in the middle of the fight—and hoping Goo and Pender could keep Goran busy while she recovered… Goo gushed itself forward, arching over Pender's head to land between Goran and Maggie. "Shit," Pender muttered, and lunged at Freya. She didn't like the look of that serrated mouth, but all the heroes in the room were out of commission for the time being, and Lily needed to get herself and her son into that alcove. Freya—if that was this thing's real name—moved sideways with incredible speed, and Pender's hands closed on air. "I wasn't going to kill you, Agent Pender," the shapechanger said. It seized Pender by the neck, the fingers like steel around her throat, and yanked her off her feet. "But since I'm pure evil now, I guess I have to." Definitely Freya, then. With a snap that should have popped the agent's head from her body like a dandelion, Freya threw Pender, backhanded, toward Goo. The agent's body had flared with light at the snap. Goo sidestepped Pender, its attention focused on Freya. Or Goran. Or whoever. Pender went spinning past, bounced against the floor, and crashed into Maggie's side, each impact accompanied by a flash of white. Maggie flew backward into the alcove, slammed into a rack containing one of the experimental versions of her armor, and collapsed onto her side. Across the room, Lily screamed and ducked down behind a round table, the baby still in her arms. "You mo-o-onster," Goo chided. "Be careful with words like that," the shapechanger said. "They'll come back to haunt you. The world's not such a nice place for metas who aren't pretty. And Raj, you aren't pretty anymore." The Goran face began to change, became a black woman with shoulder length hair. "Do you remember me now, Raj?" No. But Goo did. It was a fragment of memory: The brown-skinned woman stared down at him, the PRIMUS experimental weapon in one hand like a portable Gatling gun, a needle-tipped syringe in the other. He lay on the floor, the blood coursing from his chest. So many holes. He was going to die. He was going to die. Unless... Goo searched the memory for more details. Raj had thought of something, then. Something clever and dangerous. What was it? [Editor's note: see Don't Tell Me Not to Live- Raj Pirhu's Story.] Then the room's lights blinked once, and an alarm began to chime. Maggie dimly sensed the flicker of dark and light, but she had no trouble recognizing the chime. Intruders were coming down the elevator, or perhaps had already gotten into the main access tunnel. More of 'em. Freya's little friends no doubt. Great. Maggie got up and felt behind her for the wall of the alcove. Neither Mavis and Lily seemed to have any interest in moving out of harm's way, either—typical, though she guessed panic had something to do with it. No time now to dwell on might-have beens, though—she had to get back into the fight somehow. Pender lay in a heap on the floor next to the alcove, a little dizzy but unhurt. All the TVs in the room had switched to one channel. The screen showed three figures dimly illuminated from high above: Ed, still overdressed in his suit; Stranger, in a torn black shirt and his metal mask; and... a dog. German Shepherd, it looked like. She didn't see how the surprise arrival of these two psychopaths could possibly augur well, even if they had brought their dog. If it had been anyone else—any other pair of deranged killers, with or without a pet—there could've at least been the possibility of a random element thrown into the mix, a chance for enough chaos to occupy Freya while Lily and her entourage could make good on an escape. But the last time she'd seen Ed and Stranger, they hadn't acquitted themselves well, to say the least; how they'd met up and found their way to Maggie's lab was a mystery and, moreover, particularly disconcerting considering how much of an effort they'd made to elude any likely pursuit (although being pursued by the two of them hadn't so much as entered her mind, let alone been included in the "likely pursuit" category). The combined might of the mithralite doors and defensive forcefields would keep them at bay for a time, Pender quickly decided, but if they were truly determined to get in, they probably would. She'd never seen and rarely heard of metahuman strength even approaching what Stranger had previously displayed, and Ed's psychic talents seemed to have few limits, unfortunately. They were an unlikely but formidable pair, brought together by Freya's reckless selfishness. Briefly, she was struck by her uninjured condition, but more immediate matters pushed scientific contemplation from her mind. Maggie was still blinded from the shapechanger's acid-- and hardly in a position to deal with either Freya or their visitors outside, but just in case, Pender told her, "Thorin, the alarm—it's Ed and August. They've broken in, but if you think your security measures can keep them out, we can deal with Freya first." Maggie was blinking repeatedly, trying to clear her vision. "The mithralite'll slow them down, at least—not much we can do about them right now anyway!" With little faith in her current weaponry, she reviewed the lay of the place in her mind, trying to figure out if she had something she could use against Freya. Too many people in the lab to use the firefighting system, no time to use the experimental equipment in this very alcove -- or was there? Maybe if she could bypass the systems integration, she could whip something up... "The amino acid neutralizer," Maggie said. "That ought to slow her down if nothing else—and these weapons are self-powered, so I don't need to lug around a power-source." By feel, she tapped on a keypad, and the shielded panel doors that dominated the room lost their luminescent field and then slid open, revealing a suit of armor in shiny-black mithralite on a stand. Her vision still blurred, she examined her photographic memory of the new armor. It was quite unlike the suit she currently wore—at the same time more streamlined and sturdier. Most of the suit consisted of flexible black material that resembled muscle formations; the nonflexible areas of the arms, legs, and chest were covered by glossy plating. Unlike Maggie's current armor, the suit featured a "backpack"—a sleek casing attached to the back, starting with two depressions at the bottom near the waist, and culminating in two bulges over the shoulders. Maggie, however, blindly stumbled in search of the gauntlets—long gloves with bulges all around the forearms, looking rather like packages. "It's one of these," Maggie mumbled. "Have to remember which one now—did I leave it on the right hand when I integrated the rheunoserum?" Goo was the only thing standing between the downed PRIMUS agent and the blind scientist, and the little blob made only stood there, swaying slightly, as if transfixed by its memories. Finally, it seemed to sink slightly. "Idi-io-o-t," it said. "I'm an idiot." "Well, I'll give you that," the shapechanger said. Goo lunged at the taunting face. The sixty-pound, three-foot-tall Goo ballooned in mid-stretch. It expanded across the two-dozen feet, becoming a twelve-foot wide globule that massed almost two thousand pounds. Two pseudopods extended from its side like stubby wings to encircle the shapechanger. The black woman's face on Goran's body opened its mouth in surprise, but the shapechanger made no move to get out of the way: it threw open its arms in an embrace, and as Goo came down, thousands of porcupine-like quills, some almost three-feet long, jutted from the shapechanger's body. The quills perforated Goo's gel-like skin. "YEA-A-RGH!" Goo cried. "Ta-a-aking you down, dearie." Goo grabbed tightly to the ground near the shapechanger's feet, then doubled backwards and extended its body into a long shaft. The shapeshifter, born by the still-attached Goo, was hurled across the room. The shapeshifter landed with a Smack! in one of the forcefield alcoves, just a dozen feet away from the fallen Pender. Suddenly Pender heard a voice in her mind—and of course recognized it. |