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Chapter Twenty Eight

“I seem to recall telling a red-headed rookie that she was on administrative suspension and that she shouldn’t go looking for life or death situations that would require her to remove the power inhibitor I put on her.”

There’s something about being in career law enforcement that gives you this killer scowl. You know what I’m talking about. That mean eyed stare that grabs you by the gut and makes your toes so eminently fascinating? It must be some kind of advanced class because no one ever gave me instruction in it, but Geoffrey had one that would turn a medusa to stone.

I know this for a fact as I was on the receiving end of one of his better ones just then. “Ah didn’t go looking,” I hedged, one part of my brain concentrating on keeping my foot from digging in the carpet like a small child caught with one hand in the cookie jar.

“You just happened to be in Macon at just the right time to mix it up with Power Ball?” Geoffrey demanded; disbelief all but dripping from his chin.

“Ah just happened to be in Macon,” I admitted. “Ah needed a gewgaw from Alchemist and when Ah went to pick it up what happened went down. That’s not mah fault, is it? Ah even told Alchemist Ah was on suspension and he roped me into helping!”

The Eagle rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in a gesture of frustration. “Yes, I know, that’s the only reason I’m not bringing you up on charges. Damn it, Belle you were involved in a fatal shooting this morning! You can’t just waltz off like nothing happened from one battle to another! You have to think about how your actions will be interpreted by the press and the citizens we’ve sworn to protect.”

“Would you rather have me back out and leave folks in the lurch so they won’t get the wrong idea?” I demanded, though not as stridently as I could. I realized that I was in some way culpable and that Geoffrey was right, but good luck getting me to admit to it.

“Of course not,” he said after a loud sigh and sank into the chair behind his desk. He rubbed his temples before trying a different tact. “I admit you did nothing technically wrong. However, technicalities are a fine point Joe Citizen isn’t going to consider when he reads about this in the paper tonight. All I ask, Belle, is that you try and be a bit more aware of your timing. Being on suspension isn’t exactly the best time to pay a visit to another team, in their city.”

“Ah’m sorry Lady Luck picked today for all this craziness, Geoffrey,” I told him, genuinely sorry that he was the one to have to deal with the fall out of this issue. “But, Ah hope that ya’ll realize this wasn’t really anything that could be avoided. Today was when Alchemist had his toy ready for me; Ah had nothing better to do, so at the time it seemed like the perfect situation. Ah didn’t go looking for trouble, just like ya’ll asked, but trouble did come looking for me. That’s really not something Ah can avoid.”

He sighed again and finally nodded. “Just think more carefully about it, that’s all I ask.”

I nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing about things any further. “Were we able to get in touch with the baby’s father?” I asked, hoping that a slight change in topic would help things a bit. I was referring, of course, to the infant we had saved from Darrin Miller in the park. Geoffrey shook his head.

“Honestly, I don’t know. We turned the infant over to DFACS who will be trying to track down the dad. I don’t envy them that conversation.”

“So, that’s just it?” I demanded, more than a little aghast. “This poor kid goes into the system and we wash our hands of it?”

Geoffrey’s scowl returned to grace me with its visage. “There are procedures, Belle, you know that. We are here to supplement Civilian Law Enforcement and Disaster relief, nothing more. I shouldn’t have to draw you a picture of what the public will do if they feel threatened that capes are not completely subservient to their government!” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Look, it’s been a long day and I still have to talk with Molly from IA about this morning. I’m not going to make you put the inhibitor back on, just keep things low key for a couple of days until this blows over, alright?”

“Whatever you say, boss,” I replied, knowing it was what he wanted to hear and withdrew from his office. My thoughts were in a terrific jumble already and what he said got them turning even worse.

I hadn’t really thought about how other Supers were thought of now that I was on the other side of the spandex divide. I suppose I was merely doing what I thought I was supposed to be doing having spent most of my life on the outside, looking in. You get blessed or cursed with phenomenal cosmic power and you get a choice; you either help your fellow man and get called a hero or you turn into yourself, let your own greed dictate your actions and get called a villain. That’s the way it works, wasn’t it?

But, that little diatribe from Geoffrey got me thinking.

I’d never really been in to politics before I’d been infected, and now my political interest was solely wrapped up in getting my rights back that I felt had been stolen from me. It never occurred to me that anyone other super villains might be afraid of me. My memories from before I’d crossed the gender gap were all of awe and wonder about these, well, these god-like beings who could do things that were beyond the abilities of mere mortals.

Yes, some of them turned to evil, but that’s why we had heroes, right?

Then, having captured that mindset, a simple question loomed large into my thoughts and made me stop and pause. ‘What?” my subconscious asked me. ‘What keeps us safe if the heroes turn into villains?’

Who watches the watchmen?

It was time I figured out exactly just how deep the rabbit hole goes.

* * *

I spent the rest of the evening on the internet.

No, not at the super computer at headquarters, but on the little laptop I’d bought for school, in a nice comfy pair of jeans and a sweater at the local caffeine wholesaler and WIFI outlet. Why, you might ask? Well, there were two reasons, one, my laptop and this internet connection were comfortably anonymous and wouldn’t be the subject of a report that Geoffrey might be reading in the near future.

The other of course was that the coffee here was much better than at the base.

So, I settled in with a grande triple latte with caramel and cinnamon (so I have a thing for weird flavors, sue me), did my best to ignore the hippy out side painfully mangling Why can’t we be friends on his guitar and immersed myself in the world of government conspiracy. I’ll be honest here, what I read I didn’t like.

My research netted me a small collection of facts and a pile of opinion, speculation and (to my admittedly untrained eyes) an entire warehouse of fantasy. The facts were simple enough and fairly straight forward.

• Fact: On Oct. 24^th, 1968 US Government research scientist Robert Mckimpson, a research fellow at the Adelphi Laboratory Center in Maryland accidentally exposed himself, and a third of the center to what became Mckimpson Strain I. Seventy four people died, six became berserkers, and fifteen became the first super heroes and super villains.
• Fact: Due to the rapid spread of Mckimpson Strain throughout the world, President Richard Nixon signs the Paranormal Regulatory Act on March 10, 1973, effectively drafting every person who survived infection of Mckimpson Strain I and has some measurable new ability into the service of the Federal Government.
• Fact: The Supreme Court of the United States upholds the act in the landmark ruling of The United States V. David Mackleby AKA the Crimson Commando, July 4^th (Oh, the irony) 1978.
• And finally, Fact: The Federal Government chartered a superhero organization in each city of more than 100,000 and in that charter is the requirement the group assist in catching rogue Mckimpson survivors who refuse to submit to the PRA.

Those, my friends, are the facts, the opinion, speculation and fantasy is working overtime at filling up the internet. The government maintains a secret concentration camp of powered individuals other than Ft. Leavenworth (as if that wasn’t enough?). That the government had actually been taken over by supers who ran things behind the scenes. Well, I’m here to tell you, sugar, that ain’t so. Super heroes were the work of the Bavarian Illuminati, or the Free Masons, it was all a fantastic plot, blah, blah blah.

I snorted in disgust as I took a sip of my cooling coffee confection and wondered where public education had gone so horribly and completely wrong. “The internet is a complete waste of time,” announced a tall, dangerously handsome man as he helped himself to the other chair at my table. “And that’s exactly what’s right about it,” he finished with a smile.

“William Gibson,” I replied, taking in the expensive looking jacket he was wearing over a longshoreman’s sweater and razor pressed chinos.

“No, Tony Markham,” he shot back, extending a hand to be shook and a dazzling smile.

“William Gibson, author of Neuromancer, among other things, the originator of your quote, Mr. Markham,” I said, deciding to accept his offer of a handshake.

“Beautiful and intelligent, such a rare combination, Miss…?”

“It’s about to be Mrs.” I told him with a flash of Mrs. Filby’s ring that still rode on my left hand. “And for now it’s Jennifer. Something Ah can help you with, Mr. Markham?”

“Well, I had high hopes of light conversation and pleasant company,” he replied.

“You get much success with that line?”

“It’s not a line,” he protested as he pulled out the other chair and made himself at home. “I find that in places like this, people are more apt to have a conversation while staying anonymous about it. It makes for interesting debates and memorable times.”

I couldn’t keep from rolling my eyes. “Uh-huh, right. Well, as fascinating as all that sounds, sugah, Ah’m more than a little busy so if you’ll just move along, Ah’ll be right grateful.”

He frowned, obviously not used to the level of rebuff he was getting before the smile came back once more. “No,” he replied more firmly. “I’m sure, you’ll find my company fascinating and you want me to stay and talk.”

I nearly laughed in his face before I realized my necklace was warm against my skin and I had a vague impression of trouble in front of me. “Well, goodness!” I told him, closing the lid of my laptop and cupping my chin on my fingers in feigned rapt attention. “Since you put it that way, Ah’m all ears! What shall we talk about?”

“Err…” he stammered, taken aback by my sudden change in demeanor.

“Ah know!” I announced, gradually raising the volume of my voice until even the hippy outside stopped mangling songs to see what was up. “Let’s talk about pea-brained losers who have to resort to mind control to score! How long have ya’ll been pulling this stunt, sport? How many woman have you raped mentally and physically?”

“You will be quiet!” he shouted at me, and now that I realized what to ‘listen’ for I felt the mental command wash around me and be pulled down into the cross. Alchemist was definitely on my Christmas card list from here on out.

“Will Ah?” I managed around a chuckle. “Why, what’s the matter Romeo? Ah thought you came in here looking for a little attention? We're not getting shy are we?”

I could see from his expression that the object of my ire was getting antsy. His eyes flicked to the barista, a desperate plan forming behind his eyes. I quickly put two and two together and realized, given my bit of research exactly how bad this could get. That kind of trouble with the American Eagle I could do without. So, without really planning things out beyond the immediate necessities of action I yelled, “You cad!” At the top of my voice and slapped him.

Ok, cad probably wasn't my best bit of ad lib but it got the job done.

The blow was sufficient to put him ass over elbows, but, fortunately not enough to break any bones. A rather ugly murmur began to build in the shop so I stiffly gathered my belongings and announced to the poor perplexed clerk, “If this is the kind of people ya'll cater to, Ah'll take mah business elsewhere!” and quickly made good my escape.

* * *

It was nostalgia that brought me to the pillared top of the 191 Peachtree building to finish my cooling coffee and research. Well, nostalgia from the fact that I had actually helped build this building before I was born; that and the fact that their wireless network was not secure. It’s not my fault they probably didn’t think anyone would be up here to pirate their network. On the off chance I was seen I had changed into my costume and sat on the ledge drinking my now cold coffee and thinking about what I had discovered.

As much as it galled me to admit, Geoffrey was right, John and Jane Q. Public were terrified of us and the thought that we weren’t being properly ‘controlled’ whatever that meant. Oh sure, there were groupies that either wanted their fifteen minutes of fame, the glamour or what have you, and there were, I kid you not, super hero stalkers who followed some of the bigger heroes around from battle to battle, collecting souvenirs. There were a goodly number of people like me who were awed and admiring of, as one website put it, ‘The New Gods amongst us” but I was depressed to learn that the median age of that group was twenty four.

More to the point, that demographic all but disappeared by thirty; about the time most folks were getting hitched and getting serious about jobs and family. I looked out over my city while battling my feelings of sadness and loneliness. I suppose it was terribly naïve of me to think that in a world that had forgotten how to trust long before I entered it that beings like myself could be trusted to do the right thing.

I watched for a moment and, on a whim took out my communicator and tuned it to the APD frequency. In the span of five minutes there was a murder, two reports of shots fired on different sides of the city, a burglary alarm, three domestic disputes in progress, one of them violent and a woman reporting she’d been raped. I turned it off and with great force of will returned it to it’s keeper on my belt. “You’re no better!” I shouted at the city below me, feeling only slightly better for doing so.

“They’re like ants, aren’t they?”

I spun, surprised by the soft voice behind me to find Mortagain walking forward to the edge and looking down. “Mindless little ants who’ve had their hill stirred with a stick.”

“You have a lot of guts showing your face to me,” I hissed at her, my outrage of earlier in the day boiling back to the front of my mind from what I’d learned from Destiny.

She stared at me for a moment, my necklace becoming warm against my skin. “So, you know,” she replied casually. “I can’t say I’m surprised, as stubborn as you’ve become since the change I had a feeling you’d figure it out sooner or later.” The leather and lace costume melted away as she took the form of the girl I thought I had loved once upon a lifetime ago. Cindy shrugged as she looked up at me with the half smile she nearly perpetually wore. “In a way I’m kind of glad you know. I’ve always hated keeping secrets from you.”

“Don’t you dare try to play me again! After what you’ve done to me…”

“What I’ve done to you…?” she repeated slowly before turning away again. “What have I done to you, Jennifer? It’s interesting that I can’t read your mind anymore so I’m afraid we’re reduced to English.”

“You destroyed mah life!” I bellowed at her, further enraged that she had the gall to play the innocent. “You conspired with Sovereign to do this to me so ya’ll would have a present to give to Ed!”

She stopped in her odd stroll around the edge of the building and turned back to face me, a look of genuine confusion on her face. “Is that what you think I did? That I would just destroy your life on a whim so I could score points with Albert?”

“You’re the one who went to Albert!” I screamed at her. “You’re the one who broke up with me, had him mix up some witch’s brew that did this to me! You took mah life, threw it into a blender and hit puree!”

Cindy frowned at me as if she had given me a present and I was being rude about not wanting it. “I broke up with you because you didn’t love me. You were a little boy playing at being a man and you didn’t even know what love was. I showed you that, I put you in a place where you could find the love of your life and I did it despite the fact that I loved you!”

I blinked in disbelief that she had the courage to spin the line she was feeding me. “Ah don’t believe you!” I exclaimed through my shock. “Ah can’t believe that you have the unmitigated gall to stand there and tell me that you ever loved me after this! You stole mah life, mah manhood, mah future and now you’ve got the balls to stand there and tell me Ah should be grateful to you? You’re lucky Ah don’t tear you limb from limb!”

For the first time in our odd little rooftop conversation, Cindy laughed. It wasn’t an evil mastermind belly laugh, but the nervous, mildly psychotic laugh of someone who wasn’t all there and was having trouble hiding it. “Oh, Jenny,” she managed around her laughter, “You’ve got it all wrong! That’s not what happened!”

Then, as quickly as it started, the laughter cut off and her features became a hard, vicious mask of rage. “Serves you right, you sanctimonious bitch!” she snarled.

I felt my teeth grit as my blood started a slow simmer on its way to a roiling boil. “What…did…you…call…me?”

She hunched over like a caged animal looking for a way to get loose and attack her handler. “You heard me!” she growled. “You have everything somebody like me has ever wanted handed to you on a silver fucking plate and you stand around up here and bitch about it? Oh, I’m invulnerable and super strong and I can fly but the package came with a pair of tits so my life is horrible!”

I felt my fist ball, destroying the cup of coffee I was holding as I yanked hard on the reigns of my temper. If I lashed out at her, no matter the provocation, one blow would kill her, especially in the state I was in. “You arrogant little whore,” I spat. “You don’t like the hand you got dealt that’s your problem, but that you think you’ve got the right to do what you did to me and get away with it makes me wonder what side you’re on.”

“You’re calling me a whore?” she sneered as she began to circle me. “That’s funny coming from you, seeing as you’ve given ‘ride the pony’ a whole new meaning.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I hissed at her in my anger.

“Won’t be your first today, will it?” she demanded and gestured at me. I came set as quickly as I could, but even then the mental blast hit me like a sledgehammer. The force of it slid me back into one of the colonnade pillars that lined the roof of the building, splintering concrete.

I launched myself off the column, just dodging the follow up that did considerably more damage in a high, swooping arc that caught her off guard. I was able to plow through the hasty barrier she threw up, grab a hold on her and shake her like a rag doll. “What, the hell is the matter with you?” I shouted at her as I tried to make sense of her sudden attack.

For a moment in her eyes I could see tears and genuine remorse that made my heart ache, despite my rage. “I never meant to hurt you,” she gasped out before her face went hard again and shouted, “I’ll kill you!” The telekinetic blow that followed knocked us both apart, sending me reeling out into space and her deeper into the roof.

Ok, I might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but even I could figure out something was hinky here. While Cindy was otherwise engaged with trying to recover her footing I fished around in mom’s utility belt for something I could use that wouldn’t kill her. With my other hand I frantically got out my radio and set it to the emergency band for the Irregulars. “Mayday, mayday, this is Southern Belle, I’m in a violent confrontation with Mortagain who is being controlled remotely somehow at the top of the 191 Peachtree Building. Any member please respond!”

Before the unit would even squawk that I’d been heard the radio was snatched out of my hand. “No you don’t, bitch! She snarled at me, “This is between you and me!”

My left hand found a hard rubber ball in one of the pouches and I hurled it at her. “This is for your own good!” The ball hit her squarely in the fore head and snapped her head back. Cindy folded like a busted flush and collapsed to the roof. I didn’t think I’d hit her that hard and now I was intensely concerned that I done her real harm.

I quickly flew down to check on her, my own emotions warring between my anger and remorse, oddly, both focused on Cindy. The Red Cross training I’d gotten in high school that I only vaguely remembered, seemed to say that I should put her on her side to keep her from choking so I carefully did so.

[Author’s note: This is actually wrong, in any injury where neck trauma is possible never move the victim unless there is immediate danger to you or the victim or both. Explosions, fires and the like qualify. Belle is only human and makes mistakes, but I felt it important to point this out. Now back to the story!]

She moaned and already there was a welt coming up where the ball had struck her. I carefully brushed the hair out of her face and felt like a first class heel. I hadn’t been raised to hit women, and all those years of discipline and social conditioning were screaming at the back of my head far worse than the times I’d mixed it up with Bitch or even Valkyrie when she’d been playing berserker.

Somehow, looking at her wearing this face got to me in a way that was far worse than any other battle I’d been in. “Oh, Cindy,” I whispered to her, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Belle? Belle, come in, do you read me?” came Geoffrey’s voice from her hand. I gently got my radio from her hand and keyed it on.

“Ah read you, Eagle.”

“What’s your status there? Sovereign, Gravity and I are en route to you.”

My anger bubbled up again at the mention of Albert’s code name, but just as quickly I recalled that his particular bubble I would pop much more effectively than with my fists shortly. For the first time since this started, a smile settled on my face. “Ah think Mortagain is unconscious, though Ah may have severely injured her.”

“Belle?” came her soft voice from below me. I put the radio down and ignored it’s squawking, distorted voice as I gave Cindy my full attention.

“Hey, sugah, Ah’m so sorry for hitt’n you.”

She smiled a painful smile. “Nothing I didn’t deserve,” she replied weakly. “I want to say I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. One of the problems in being a telepath is that you hear the things people aren’t saying and you start to think that’s how they really feel. You never stop to think that maybe they didn’t say it for a good reason.”

“Cindy…”

She looked up at me, fear in her eyes. “He’s inside me, Jennifer, and I don’t think I can control him much longer. What ever happens, please, please always remember that I love you.”

“What are you talking about, Cindy?” I demanded; even more confused than when this started.

“I won’t ever be able to make up for what I’ve done, but it’s important that you know I did it with the best intentions.” She sat up gestured weakly at me. I was pushed away and pinned against one of the columns. “He’s coming,” she told me softly. “I can’t let him have access to my power.”

I struggled against her weakening telekinetic grip, cracking the column I was held against. “Cindy!” I shouted at her. “Whatever is going on in your head, ya’ll have got to fight it!”

She got painfully to her feet and limped over to the edge of the roof. “I’m so tired, Jennifer,” she told me with sad eyes. “He’s coming and I can’t let him have me. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry. Maybe this can start to make up for it.”

“Cindy!” I shouted after her. “Cindy, no!”

Her eyes locked with mine as she hung for an impossible moment in space, then vanished as gravity reclaimed its dominance once more and she fell out of sight.

* * *