Evil Game Master Society

“Mellissa! Get the heck out of bed!” Margot’s strident voice blasted through the door disturbing Melissa’s sleep, punctuated by what only could be her sister kicking the door. “You promised that you’d go with me to the
convention today.”

“Huh…Whazza…oompf…” Were the only sounds emanating from under the warm down comforter as Melissa tried to hold onto those last vestiges of sedative slumber. After some more incessant pounding she knew that this annoyance was not going away until dealt with.

“M…Margot? What time izzit?” Melissa wearily looked around for her clock radio. “Give me another thirty willya? It’s Sunday morning for heaven’s sake!”

The door swung open and Margot waltzed into the room and pulled the covers off Melissa’s drowsy form. “It’s seven o’clock. The doors open at nine, and we have to be there early.”

**”Yeah yeah, alright already!” Melissa yawned and stretched out. “God Sis, you wouldn’t believe the dream I had last night….”

Margot gave her a inquisitive smile. “Do tell?”

“Uh, forget about it.” Melissa replied sheepishly. She then noticed her costume lying on the chair next to her bed. Shock and realization hit her like a face full of ice water. Oh no, it wasn’t a dream! Quickly she threw her comforter over the costume and chair.

Wow I must have been really wasted from last night. I hope Sis didn’t notice. She glanced over at Margot, who looked perky and alert, a rare sight for her this early in the morning. “Umm, explain to me again why we
have to leave so early? It’s not like they are going to be turning people away later on or anything is it?”

A look of exaggerated patience covered Margot’s face. “I told you. Gillian Anderson is going to be at the convention this morning and she’s going to be signing autographs. There’s a limit of 100 people, and there’s
no way I’m going to miss out this time.” She glared at Melissa.

“Hey calm down Sis, it’s not like I could have bailed on the press after winning nationals you know.” This was not an argument Melissa expected to win.

“But did you have to spend two hours afterwards signing all those autographs?” Margot shot back. Melissa cringed. Fans are a transitory affectation at best Sis.

“The doors open at 9 am, and we are going to be there if I have to drag you in your underwear.” Margot walked over to Melissa’s closet and started to rummage through the clothes. “Geez, don’t you have anything decent to
wear? Here,” she said, tossing some garments at her sister. “You can wear these. And try not to embarass me this time.”

“Eh, don’t worry Sis, I don’t want anyone recognizing me this time.” She grinned back. Melissa then grabbed the blouse and pair of jeans Margot had tossed her. Hmm, Better also go with the leather jacket, Maple Leafs cap
and sunglasses as well.

Margot left Melissa’s room as quickly (and as noisly) as she entered. “There’s some breakfast on the table for you.”

The kitchen was in a shambles, but it was nowhere as bad as usual. Jars of peanut butter and jam were on the table next to a loaf of bread and the toaster. There was a glass of orange juice and a glass of milk at Melissa’s
usual place, and Margot was getting the box of cookies out of the cupboard.

“We’re leaving at a eight,” Margot said as she stuffed an Oreo in her mouth. “That will put us at the convention centre around quarter to nine. I already have the passes for us, and I know one of the guys working the
registration table, so he said he’ll pass us right through.”

Melissa was surprised with the amount of planning and preparation her sister had put into this little excursion. This was not typical Margot behavior. She thought it probably wise to be on her best at the convention, despite how ridiculous she thought Margot was acting. Her sister would probably never forgive her if she spoiled her fun again.

**********

7:30 am

Guardian disconnected the mechanical shell Aidan had built for her from its repair and maintenance unit and slipped inside. She made all the necessary connections, ran a quick system check, then closed the access hatch. Guardian still felt a touch of disorientation for a few moments whenever she put on this disguise of the black Harbinger woman. It would never replace her other half….

She shook herself and banished the unconstructive thoughts and turned to the task at hand. Guardian walked over to the closet and pulled out some clothing that still smelled new. She paused for a moment, then decided it
would be best if she did not wear the leather outfit underneath these other clothes. Stripping them quickly off, Guardian folded them precisely and laid them on the end of the padded sleeping platform.

Guardian once again thought about the human form. Very inefficient, she thought. And rather unesthetic. The structures known as breasts sometimes serve only as a hindrance. They get in the way of performing many tasks. She looked down at the sexless expanse of artificial skin between the legs of the shell she wore. Anook had the good sense not to make this unit completely anatomically correct. Guardian shuddered at the thought of what it must be like for the females on the team to have to deal with such a thing.

She put on a pair of jeans, a sports bra and socks, and pulled an X-Files t-shirt over her head. Carefully tucking it into the jeans, she placed an Aliens baseball cap on her head after making sure the two X-File pins were attached and straight. Guardian tied on a pair of sneakers and gingerly took the X-Files jacket off its hanger and put it on.

Guardian walked out of her room and went directly to the change rooms attached to the gym. She stood in front of the mirror and examined her appearance critically, turning in place to examine herself from all angles.
Satisfied, Guardian headed for the elevator and to the surface. Had anyone been watching, they would have sworn that Guardian seemed to be sneaking out of the base, like she was going somewhere she shouldn’t be.

Guardian slunk out of the office in the warehouse and over to the side door. She quietly entered the security code and slipped out the door into the alley. Looking around, she tried to bury the sudden panic that flooded
her mind, but resolutely pushed it away. She was a warrior, and she wasn’t about to let something as insignificant as being outdoors keep her from her mission.

Had she needed the oxygen, she would have taken a deep, steadying breath. Guardian adjusted her clothing, straightened her shoulders, and set off walking at a fast pace.

**********

Nicole tucked the envelope she had gotten from the registration desk under her arm as she attached the button showing she had paid her fees. There were a number of people staring at her, but she was used to it. Looking
like one of her favourite stars did have its drawbacks.

She smiled slightly when she thought what Gillian Anderson’s eaction might be to seeing someone that looked almost exactly like she did. Now wouldn’t that make an interesting plot line… Her mind began to wander slightly as she surveyed the other people getting into line. her eyes stopped when they landed on a huge, muscular black woman wearing an X-Files t-shirt and jacket and an Aliens baseball cap.

Damn, she thought. She’s got to be, what, seven and a half, eight feet tall? I doubt any of that is fat. I sure wouldn’t want her to be pissed off at me….

Nicole suddenly realized she was staring and quickly looked away. She then looked back with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Perfect. She’s absolutely perfect, she thought. She began frantically
digging through the bag she customarily carried around looking for her notepad and pen.

When she found them she started writing frantically. “Her prescence seemed to fill the whole audience chamber. Eight feet tall and exotically dark skinned she took focus from the Emperor…” Nicole grimaced as she wrote. This is truly awful,_ she thought, _Oh, well. I can clean it up later. After I get all the details down.

**********

By 8:20 Guardian arrived at the convention centre. She was a bit ahead of schedule, but that was acceptable. She walked over to the registration table and handed the scrawny little man her pass. For a few moments, all he
did was stare at her in shock. Eventually, he was able to tear his eyes away, fumbled in the pile and handed her a manilla envelope. He mumbled something about her badge being in the envelope and to make sure that she
wore it at all times.

Resolutely Guardian ignored the stares of the people around her and went to stand in line to get Gillian Anderson’s autograph. She looked at the people that were in line ahead of her and saw a woman that looked a lot like Gillian Anderson staring right at her….

**********

“You’re so slow,” Margot complained as they walked through the doors into the convention centre. “Come on, you’re going to meet one of *the* greatest actresses of our time. She’s not quite as good as Duchovney, of
course. You really ought to watch more of the shows. They’re so cool…”

Melissa didn’t pay much attention to Margot’s words, as she had heard this litany so often that she knew it by rote. She was thinking about the little girl she’d be teaching that afternoon when her sister’s words startled her
out of her reverie.

“My God, Mel. Would you look at her!”

Melissa followed Margot’s pointing finger to see a familiar gigantic black woman standing in the autograph line. For a moment she couldn’t believe what her eyes were registering. Here was a person who not twelve hours ago
had intimidated the heck out of her standing in line at an X-Files convention dressed in all the fanboy trimmings. She couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sis, I need your camera quick!” Melissa was insistent despite her giggling. _Jez will get a kick out of this I’ll bet.”

“What for,” Margot asked. “I bought this film especially for this convention.”

**********

At first Guardian did nothing but stare at the woman, but soon realised what she was doing. She compared the mental picture she had of Gillian Anderson and decided though the woman looked very similar, she wasn’t the actress.

Guardian heard some laughing and a voice she thought she recognized. She turned her head and saw Boreas standing next to a young woman that looked a lot like her near the registration desk. Boreas was giggling and looking straight at Guardian.

Melissa gave Guardian a small wave. “Margot just make sure you get picture of me and my big friend over there,” she said under her breath then she glided off over towards Guardian.

An expression that reminded Boreas of a child being caught with her hand in the cookie jar crossed Guardian’s face. Guardian quickly turned around and pretended that she hadn’t seen Boreas.

Boreas realized that she didn’t know Guardian’s real name, that is if she had another name to go by. And it probably wouldn’t be wise to bring up any of the Sentinel stuff here. Lord knows how these X-File groupies would respond to a couple of Harbingers in their midst!

Melissa was all smiles as she approached, “Hey Big G, it’s me Melissa.” She winked for added effect and hoped that Guardian caught the nuance. “Funny I never would have pictured you to be in a place like this.”

Guardian looked down at her. “Hello, Melissa.” Her voice was quiet and rather cool, as if fighting off embarassment.

Melissa stifled a grin as she couldn’t help but be amused by the current turn of events. “So, umm, I take it you are a big fan of the show? I am just an occasional viewer.” She gestured towards her sister holding the camera, “Actually my sister over there is the real maniac. Perhaps you two can get together later and talk?”

“Yes, and perhaps.” As usual, Guardian’s answers were short and to the point.

Hurry up and take the picture already Sis! Melissa thought as she leaned in closer to Guardian with a big smile.

Margot made a face at Melissa and with deliberate slowness put the camera away in her bag. She walked over to take a place in line, about ten people behind Melissa and Guardian.

**********

Nicole finished writing. Got it. She put her notebook and pen away, satisfied with the idea, if not the language of it. She looked back at the giantess, pursing her lips in thought. I wonder…

The crowds grew and the line became longer. By eleven o’clock the convention was packed. People were wandering around wearing not only X-Files clothing, but in costumes of characters from their favourite shows.
A murmur started at the head of the line, and when Guardian looked to see what was going on, she could easily see over the heads of the crowd that Gillian Anderson had reached the table and that they were preparing to
begin.

“Err, excuse me, Miss?” Guardian felt a slight tug at her sleeve. Looking down she saw a bone thin man sporting thick rimmed glasses and a Security t-shirt. “Do you attend these conventions often? We sure could use someone like you to work security. If you work eight hours over the weekend of the convention, you get a free t-shirt and a discount on your registration fee.”

“This is my first time attending this kind of event,” Guardian replied in her typically cold voice. “It is unlikely I will be attending another in the near future. I am afraid my other responsibilities will not permit me to assist you.”

The man stared at her blankly. “So, like, are you interested?”

Melissa felt annoyed. Standing in line for two hours while getting bumped and nudged by all manner of creepazoids was not her idea of having fun. Gee, you think some of these people could have the decency to bathe once a week. Her sister on the other hand seemed to be lost in another world as she taking in all the sights and sounds of the exhibit from their increasingly cramped position in line. Melissa decided she had had enough.

“Well we’ve been waiting in this line for what two hours already? I thought you said the ’saintly one’ was going to start signing at 9:30?” Abruptly, Melissa started to walk away before her sister could protest. “I’m going to
get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Hey!” Margot started in protest, but was thwarted from leaving her hard fought place in line to run after her sister. In defeat all she could do was cry out, “Diet Cola” and hope her sister heard her above the din of the
crowd.

Freed from the oppressive queue Melissa decided to roam around the exhibit hall a bit to see if there was anything of particular interest.

The hall was filled with people milling around, stopping in the typical inconvenient places to chat with friends. At the far end of the room there was a gigantic display of actual props from a variety of science fiction shows. Nearby was a booth where a special effects artist was doing make up on someone, transforming their face into a cat-like creature.

Back in the main hall, the autograph line began to move very slowly. After about five minutes, three men walked out of the exhibition hall, past the line up and to the front of the line. As they went by, Guardian noticed
that two of the men - the ones on either side of the young looking man in the middle - had white wires coming from under their jackets and into their ears, almost exactly like what she had seen the FBI or Secret Service men in the movies.

The three men waited as Gillian Anderson signed something and she and the young looking man chatted for a moment. The man on the left bent down slightly and whispered something into the ear of the young man. The young man was obviously unhappy at what had been said, but he turned and began to walk away, heading for the exit.

It was then that Guardian noticed another man, wearing a Battlestar Galactica t-shirt, black baseball cap, sunglasses and jeans. Up until now she hadn’t noticed him, but he seemed unusually interested in the three men. The man in the Battlestar Galactica t-shirt lifted his hand as if to scratch or rub his face, but Guardian saw his lips moving near his watch. The man then began to head for the exit.

Suddenly there screams and the sounds of gunfire filling the air, coming from outside the hall.

Melissa turned in shock at the sounds of violence emanating from outside. Panicked she looked around for her sister to make sure she was safe, but couldn’t see her through the mass of people running for the far exits.
Please Margot. Tell me you have more sense than curiosity.

Melissa had to make sure that her sister was not in harms way. Therefore she made her way around the crowds to where the disturbance was, fighting her way through the paniced people near the main entrance to the hall. As she moved, she could see Guardian heading towards the entrance as well.

What, Guardian thought with a start at the sound of gunfire. No. This can’t be happening. My duty is to assist… But the autograph…. She sighed. Duty calls. It is times like this I wish I did not want to do
good.

Guardian abandoned her place in line and headed for the entrance, trying to spot the man in the Battlestar Galactica t-shirt and cut him off. He is probably involved in this somehow. In all the people, she couldn’t see
him, and she arrived at the entrance at the same time as the woman who looked like Gillian Anderson.

Nicole ran towards the hall entrance, seeking the origin of the gunfire. So much for a peaceful weekend, she thought.

The scene in the main foyer of the convention centre was that of chaos. People were screaming and Nicole could almost taste the fear and panic that emanated from their minds. To the right of the entrance, was the prone form
of a man in a black suit lying in a growing pool of blood, and a security guard on the other side of the room was leaning against a pillar, a gunshot wound in his shoulder.

A second man in a dark suit popped up from behind a sofa and took a shot a man hiding behind another pillar. That man was wearing obvious body armour and was carrying several weapons.

Melissa surveyed the carnage out in the hall, thankful that Margot was notably absent. At first she thought it was some kind of publicity stunt; men dressed in black disrupting an X-Files convention. However, the blood
on the floor looked all too real and she realised that quick action needed to be taken to avoid further loss of life.

Okay Girl, first priority is to clear the area of innocent bystanders while trying not to get shot. This isn’t capture the flag and we are not in Aidan’s simulator. She tried to keep her powers in check in order to avoid a recurrence of yesterday’s accident. Despite her best efforts there was a noticeable drop in the ambient surrounding temperature, as if someone have turned on the air conditioner.

Nicole shivered, surprised at the sudden chill. Trying to shake of its distracting effects, she concentrated on the man in the armour, filling his mind with haunting whispers.

Melissa looked around and realised that it was going to be next to impossible to clear the people away from the doors, let alone try and get the people caught in the crossfire in the main room to safety right now. The security guard, she thought. Got to get him to safety and to medical attention. When she reached his side, Melissa saw Guardian walking past her and into the main hall, the panicked people moving out of her way like ice before the breaker.

Now, what is it that they say in situations like this, Guardian thought as she strode purposefully through the crowd. Oh yes…. She stepped out into the open, squared her shoulders, and made a beeline for the man in
armour. “Put down your weapons and lie face down on the ground, hands over your head.” Her voice boomed through the room like a drill sergeant giving orders.

The man looked at her, popped the gun up and fired. The ragged sphere of energy flew wide, missing Guardian completely. The shot hit the wall above Guardian’s head and exploded, showering the people in the doorway to the convention hall with chucks of concrete and plaster.

Nicole continued to watch the man in armour, attacking his mind again. She barely noticed the shower of plaster which dusted the back of her suit jacket.

Melissa couldn’t believe Guardian’s sheer audacity in this situation. Either the Amazon was confident in her invulnerability or very naïve. “Hey Big G watch yourself! You don’t want those fine duds ruined do you?”

Trusting that Guardian would somehow manage the situation until the police arrived, Melissa bent over the stricken guard to ascertain his condition. The man was a bit pale, and the uniform at his shoulder where he was hit seemed to be burned.

Melissa looked at the guard, obvious concern etched on her face. “Hey. Don’t try and move you’re done for the day kay.” She tried to cheer up his spirits with a smile. “Paramedics should be here in no time. Until then I
am going to keep you company okay? By the way my name’s Melissa, what’s yours?”

The man didn’t show any signs of responding to her words. Looking him over again, Melissa saw his name tag had the name “Jones” on it. Frowning, she took a closer look at his shoulder.

The wound looked to be some kind of burn, but it wasn’t like anything that she had ever seen, and there seemed to be no excess heat coming from it.

Guardian moved the last few steps to place herself in front of the man in armour. “You were warned,” she said in a monotone voice as she reached out to grab the gun. She pulled the gun from his hand like taking candy from a baby.

Suddenly Guardian was hit square in the back by ragged ball of energy. The impact caused her to take an involuntary step forwards, but she stopped before bumping into the man with armour.

Nicole stepped out of her hiding place, looking for the person who had shot the big black woman in the back. “Hey! Are you alright,” she yelled out to the woman as she scanned the room. Damn, where is that sniper?

Melissa considered for a moment aiding Guardian, but she hesitated, partly out of concern for the guard but also for fear of calling attention to herself. She really didn’t want to explain any of this to Margot or her
father. She prayed that Guardian would be able to handle the situation as she shielded the downed guard.

The man in the dark suit ducked down behind the sofa, grabbing the young man hiding there and began to run for one of the back exits. The young man was protesting, turning to watch the battle with a touch of awe on his face.

Another ball of energy flew by Guardian’s head and exploded on the pillar next to her, showering her with fragments of concrete. The man in front of her took a step back and stumbled, losing his balance in his attempt to get away.

With an intense look of annoyance, Guardian backhanded the man, sending him flying back about ten feet and into the wall. The man struck heavily and slumped to the ground, apparently unconscious.

She then turned around and began to scan the upper levels, trying to find the sniper. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man partially hidden by a pillar two floors up, holding a gun very similar to the one she had taken from her opponent.

Boreas surveyed the scene. It seemed that Guardian had taken down one opponent, but who knew how many were in this ambush? Looking up, she spotted what could only be a sniper, and the sniper was targeting Guardian.

A blast of energy came from the gun and missed Guardian’s head, hitting the wall behind her and demolishing a piece of artwork.

Nicole looked around and growled softly, frustrated that she still wasn’t able to see the source of the blast that hit the big black woman in the back. Well, at least I can see if I can help that girl out with the security guard.

Nicole scampered across the open area to where Melissa crouched with the guard. “Is there any way I can help?” As she spoke, Nicole saw the man that the black woman had knocked to the ground get up, sprinted for the exit, and disappeared through the doors.

Guardian’s frown of annoyance deepened and she lifted the gun, aimed, and fired. The blast hit, sending the sniper flying back into the wall with a horrendous crash followed by the sound of smashing concrete.

Nicole stared in astonishment at the scene before her. That was impossible! Nobody could survive a hit like that!, she thought.

Melissa looked at Nicole with a slight smile. “Are you a Doctor? This man has been hit by whatever those men were firing. It’s like no kinda burn I have ever seen.”

She then glanced out the door that the other gunman had run through and waited for Guardian’s next reaction. She seems to be handling herself fairly well. Of course I wonder if she’s gonna stick around to answer
everyone’s questions?

Guardian headed for the main doors, following the fleeing man. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she saw a car fleeing at top speed from the scene. The license plate is obscured, she thought, her frown deepening, then
disappearing. _Nothing I can do here. I had better look into the condition of the sniper. She walked back into the building and started up the large ramp towards the second floor, the crowd definitely parting in front of her.

Boreas could see the badly damaged and scorched jacket on Guardian’s back, and even from where she was she could see skin beneath through the holes. Considering the look on the woman’s face, she thought it would probably would be a good idea if she followed. Who knows what the Amazon might do.

The crowd on the second floor parted to reveal the sniper embedded in the wall - actually, it seemed as if he had been blown back almost completely through it. Guardian didn’t know much about structural capabilities of the
materials that the humans used, but no wall would be able to take that kind of damage and be sound without drastic repairs.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Guardian said in a commanding voice. “Please move back and away from this location.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see building security approaching. “Make room for the security guards so they can attend to the man.” The crowd moved back almost instantly, giving Guardian at least ten foot clearing.

“What the hell…..” One of them exclaimed in shock, looking at the weapon in Guardian’s hand, then at the man embedded in the wall. Both men stood and stared in shock at the carnage.

A uniformed police officer made his way through the crowd and approached Guardian. Behind him could be seen a reporter and a photographer making their way through the people as quickly as they could. “Can you tell me what happened here?”

“I was in the convention,” Guardian explained to the officer. “When I heard the discharge of weapons, followed by screams. I came to investigate and found that this man’s accomplice was attacking a young man and his
bodyguard. I intervened, telling the man to put down his weapons and lie face down on the floor. Instead, he decided to shoot at me. The damage to the wall above the entrance to where the X-Files convention is being held is the result of that missed shot.

“I approached the man and disarmed him, knocking him out so that he would discontinue fighting and I could have the police summoned to arrest him. At that point, I was shot in the back by this man,” Guardian said, pointing at the man being extracated from the wall.

“I turned, located the sniper visually, and used his teammate’s weapon against him. The damage done was greater than expected, ending up with him being in the condition that you now see.”

“Do you know who he was attacking, and why?” The officer looked a bit dazed.

“No,” Guardian replied.

“And your name is….” The man looked up at her.

“Guardian,” she answered.

“Guardian something, or just Guardian?”

“Just Guardian.”

“Okay, Guardian. Don’t go anywhere. I’m going to need to talk to you again.” The officer turned away and approached the security guards who were checking out the sniper’s condition.

Guardian stepped back a few steps and took off her jacket. A deadly frown covered her face when she saw the damage. It looked like someone had taken a shotgun and a blowtorch to it. She put the jacket on the floor at her
feet and took off her shirt, revealing a black sports bra. The woman’s physique was amazing - not an ounce of extra fat on her.

She held up the shirt and her frown got even worse. The shirt could not be salavaged, and looked like the jacket did. Guardian dropped the shirt at her feet and raised her hands to begin to lift the bottom of the bra…….

**********

Melissa cradled the phone against her ear as she rummaged through her purse desperate to locate Aidan’s number. In frustration she spilled the contents out and found her little black book and some spare change. I sure hope Aidan has instructed Guardian the proper procedures in dealing with the police, not to mention reporters!

Punching in the number she glanced over at the Amazon who seemed to be in a state of undress. “Oh My God…” She intoned softly as she stood frozen in shock.

“Hello,” came Aidan’s voice over the phone line.

**********

“Um, excuse me. Miss?” Guardian turned her head to see a geeky teenager looking up at her, his face crimson with embarassment. “You’re not alllowed to go topless here. It’s only legal at the beaches.”

Guardian paused and looked down at the teenager, then released her hold on the bra. “Understood,” she replied in a calm and collected voice. I can understand why they wish to cover themselves, she thought. Their bodies
are rather repellent in appearance.

She picked up her shirt and put both it and the jacket back on. Guardian looked around. They seem to have everything under control. Perhaps I will now have the opportunity to obtain Gillian Anderson’s autograph. She
turned and began to head towards the ramp down to the main floor when she was cut off by a petite redhead holding a tape recorded. The woman was followed by a black man carrying a camera.

“Hi. I’m Camille Jacobs,” the woman said, introducing herself. “I work for the York Gazette. “Can I have a few words with you?” Camille led Guardian off to the side and began speaking to her in earnest.

**********

After the initial shock, Melissa came to her senses and picked the phone back up. “Houston we have a problem. There’s been an incident down at the convention center involving your big friend and… well some Men in Black?”
She paused for a brief moment to glance back in Guardian’s direction. Thankfully it appeared that someone had stopped her from exposing herself to the city. The press is going to have a field day with this, she thought.

“I know,” replied Aidan. “I have a link with Guardian at all times, so I am aware of the situation. I believe that everything is currently under control. The local authorities are on the scene, and the paramedics have
been dispatched. I have not yet determined the identity of the young man who was ushered away from the scene. However, it is a good guess that the men with him were undercover police officers, perhaps even the RCMP, so the man was of some importance.

“Do you require some assistance?”

Melissa carefully thought on that question before answering. “Actually no…not at this moment.” As she spoke with Aidan Melissa scanned the crowds trying to spot her sister.

“However if you are able to contact Guardian, make sure she doesn’t disclose the real identities of the rest of us kay? I mean she can be a little talkative at times and I really don’t want to have to explain this to my dad.”

“Guardian understands the requirements of secret identities,” Aidan reassured her. “And will not reveal the true names of any members of the Sentinels.” Aidan paused for a second. “No matter how much Camille Jacobs questions her.”

©1998, Lisa Hartjes.

Darkness Rising - Story Arc #10

Darkness Rising

November 17th, 1999

After a few moments of silence, the group could hear a crackling noice, as if a set of speakers had been turned on.

“Rosie, I have just picked up on police bands that there are a number of Harbingers atttacking a bank and several stores at a small shopping centre 1.2 km to the west. The police have two units on site, with more responding, but it will be at least fifteen minutes before the YSRT arrives. There are at least five known causalties amongst patrons of the bank and the shopping plaza. The indentity of the Harbingers are not yet confirmed.”

“Damn,” Rosie breathed. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. OK, put me on the channel and send me coordinates. And send Boreas and Jezebel, if you can. I’m on my way.”

“I’m afraid that Boreas and Jezebel cannot be spared,” Aidan replied.

To the others, she said, “It looks as though our meeting will have to wait. There isn’t time to explain right now, but that voice you just heard was our host, Aidan. I’ll trust in your discretion and ask you to keep this to yourselves. In the meantime, we have trouble. Will you help me with it? I can get there in about a minute, and I’m sure we can arrange transportation for those who need it. What do you say?”

“Damn!” HK yelled. “That sounds more my speed. Let’s go bust some heads! Um… anybody got the time? Couldn’t find a watch that went with the outfit, y’know?”

Rosie glanced at the ceiling. “Can you help him, Aidan? I could check the shortwave Universal Time settings, but you’re faster at that than I am. Oh, and keep checking for more information from the scene, would you? Thanks.”

“It is 3:42:25 pm at the sound of the tone,” Aidan said with a hint of humor in his voice. There was a pause then a beep. “Police confirm there are a number of civilians caught in the crossfire, and the attack upon the bank has spread to the other businesses in the building. Harbinger attacks still unidentified. YSRT on route, ETA 13 minutes.”

Rook reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a midnight blue uniform. Shrugging off his suit jacket he looked up at Rosie. “Do you mind turning around for a minute, please.”

Rosie smiled. “I’d be surprised if you had anything I haven’t seen before.” But she turned her back anyway. “Say when.”

“Let’s just say I’m just a very shy person.” Moments later he continued. “Alright, you can turn around now. ” The midnight blue uniform had been supplemented by silver gloves, belt and mask. The gloves and belt, both made out of some kind a rigid material, looked slightly bulky, as though they held small pockets or compartments. “Anytime you’re ready to go, but I will need a ride. ”

Rosie turned around, and looked him up and down appreciatively. “I can manage that, depending on how much you weigh in that outfit.” “Let’s see, with this gear I’m just under 200 pounds, but with lunch I’d say about 205.” Rook shrugged. “What can I say I had a big lunch.”

“I like lusty appetites,” Rosie replied with a grin. Extending her hand, she added, “OK, I’ll carry you there.” Then she turned to the others. “What about the rest of you? I suspect Hyperkinetic can get there under his own steam, but I don’t yet know about you, Warlock.”

Rosie turned back to Rook, her expression suddenly turning serious. “Wait. There’s something else I need to know before we take off. Are you carrying anything that generates magnetic fields, especially high-intensity ones?”

Rook took a moment and checked a couple of the belts compartments and looked up. “No, nothing I’m carrying now would affect magnetic fields.”

“I oughta be able to get there on my own, I can run pretty fast when I try. But if you all get there before me, be sure to hang back a sec until I catch up.”

“OK, good,” Rosie nodded. “If you do start using high-magnetic gear, though, try to let me know beforehand.”

“Give the others directions, Aidan,” Rosie said. “And just keep me pointed in the right direction. Now let’s go.” She turned to the others again. “And thanks for coming along.”

Aidan passed along directions to the mall and the assembled heroes headed out.

Natalia Tonish MacDougal crouched down behind the crushed car in the parking lot. “Figures I’d pick this time to go to the bank,” she swore. “What the hell am I going to do! Those crazies are going to kill everyone, including me!”

There was another loud crunching noise and a huge crash, and Nate saw the bumper of the pale green Lexus parked in the handcapper spot go flying over her head.

“Back off, cops,” the Harbinger surrounded in flames yelled. “Or we’ll kill everyone here!”

Kirstin McRory shivered as she listened to that Harbinger threaten the lives of everyone at the mall. “This is not good,” she muttered. She looked around and saw the panicking people in the bank. Luckily there weren’t many people here, just a couple of tellers, a manager, and three customers. Unfortunately, one of those three customers was a little girl, probably about four years old, and she was obviously terrified.

John Smith, aka Mindblade, was sitting quietly at a small restaurant eating a late lunch when a panicking young woman came running in. “Please, dial 911! A group of Harbingers are attacking Woodruff Plaza,” she gasped, out of breath. She opened her mouth to peak again but was cut off by the sound of an explosion.

To be continued…

© Lisa Hartjes, 2001

November 17th, 1999

The rain made the day dismal and gray as the graveside ceremony progressed. Six police officers had been killed in the line of duty when Fear, Inc. crashed a charity fundraiser at the Royal Ontario Museum and taken the attendees hostage. The Sentinels arrived too late to save the police officers, but were able to drive off the villains and rescue the hostages.

The heroes had been invited to attend the funeral by the mayor and police commissioner, and the press was covering the proceedings with more than their usual vigor.

The Sentinels thought back over the past few months. Things had been unusually quiet - very few crimes that needed their attention, and life had settled into a dull routine of daily life. Guardian and Eldritch left in July, each needing to take care of “personal business” and not saying when, or if, they’d ever return.

Robert MacLachlan stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the somber mood of the people at the graveside. He had arrived in York two nights ago, drawn to the city but not sure why. All he knew was that the Sentinels were involved.

Such urges are never by chance, Robert knew. He did not believe in chance. He stood dressed in black, quiet as all the mourners, and merely watched. Old as he was, he had learned patience. He was a ripple on the surface of one of Fate’s many streams, waiting for the moment of decision, when the streams of destiny may be crossed or changed.

Watching the caskets roll slowly by, he mused on mortality and wondered briefly how his own immortality has affected him. He shuddered at the thought that the human race might pass him by, ever changing, while he remained eternally the same.

For whatever reason–the recent turmoil in their ranks, or perhaps the very routine of their relations itself–Rosie felt that the Sentinels hadn’t really become a team yet. It bothered her partly because they could turn only to one another at times like this. Who else could really understand? She hoped that it wasn’t still because of their misunderstanding, that first night.

Cynthia had been ecstatic the night the Sentinels had signed her up–”higher than a kite,” Grant had joked when she’d gotten home, some hours later. Her friends and lovers–her family–loved and supported one another unconditionally, and when she told them what had happened–minus actual names or locales, let alone the truth about Aidan–they had had to remind her that a lot of people still separated love into different categories for different people.

In any event, they had been there for her when she came back from the battle at the museum. And she had needed their closeness and comfort even more than usual. The four of them sat up in bed and watched the news most of the night, once Barbara, Grant and Martin had gotten over their fear that Cynthia might have been seriously hurt herself. They had also unanimously made an anonymous donation to the Police Widows and Orphans Fund, in the name of the officers killed there. The four of them shared deep bonds, but they still couldn’t fully share this part of her life…

All of these thoughts, never far from her awareness, were brought back into focus by the funeral. She decided that things could not go on this way, that she needed to talk with the others at the earliest opportunity. With that, Rosie gave her full attention to the service, helping with the eulogy and trying to balance coverage of the Sentinels with that of the fallen officers, emphasizing that the latter were the real heroes this day.

Nick Carter, aka Hyperkinetic, arrived at the graveside partway through the eulogy. He had been unable to get away from the shop as early as he wanted, and traffic had been murder. Standing near the edge of the crowd, he was barely able to see the Sentinels, standing off to one side. Cracklin’ Rosie looked to be paying full attention to the service, while Boreas and Jezebel seemed to lost in thought and oblivious to their surroundings.

Her comrades’ distraction was not lost on Rosie. She nudges them to either side, slightly. “What’s with you two?” she prison-whispers. “Is Guardian’s disappearance still bothering you?” She sighed, even as she kept looking straight ahead. “Right now, this is where we’re needed. But I’d like to talk with you both, later on.”

_Maybe I’ll be able to get to them and talk briefly after the service,_ Nick thought to himself. _I need to talk to them about joining up, and to let them know what I’ve been hearing._ He shook his head. _The police think that the pushed of that Super Juice drug left town. He hasn’t, and now he’s got an even more powerful version ready to go to market…._

It was at that point that he saw Joe Zandros, the reporter. Nick wondered why he was at the funeral. Was it because of the Sentinels?

Robert listened to the service with half an ear and began to scan the crowd. Something had flickered in the corner of his eye, something that only his Second Sight was able to see. There was something there, centering around the graves, and while he couldn’t tell what it was, Robert felt that it was definitely malevolent.

Having seen that the service was nearing its conclusion, Nick had found an out of the way spot to change.

As the service was drawing to a close, he had made his way though the crowd towards the Sentinels, now wearing the costume he had chosen for Hyperkinetic: knee-high, black patent leather boots, navy blue trousers with gray piping down the legs, a skin tight, short sleved gray top with navy blue eding at the collar and sleeves that matched his trousers and a black leather half-face mask that left his strong jaw and wavy blond hair exposed.

He had approached them slowly, openly. When, at last, he had stood before them, he said: “I come in peace… or is that just too cliche for words?”

Rosie stopped a couple of paces away from the newcomer. “Actually, I think it’s refreshing,” she replied, “though your timing leaves something to be desired.” She gestured to either side. “In alphabetical order, we’re Boreas, Cracklin’ Rosie, and Jezebel. Who are you?”

At the same time, she was sending out a signal. *Aidan? It’s Rosie. I think we have a possible newcomer.* The irony of her referring to someone else that way was not lost on her; she herself had not been with the Sentinels very long, after all.

*Has he identified himself,* Aidan asked, his message being relayed through the transmitter that had been set up back at the base.

Robert lay a hand on the Amulet, feeling its weight. “By the pricking of my thumbs…” he whispers to himself, quoting the play set in the land of his youth. Whispering the words of an ancient rite, he changes into the guise of the Warlock, but remains hidden under his trenchcoat and hat, waiting and watching.

Nick had felt an instant of relief, and was sure it showed in the set of his jaw. Patrick always said his face was an open book…

“My apologies for approaching you like this, but I have information that you should hear. You can call me Hyperkinetic — that’s a descriptive term, not a disorder.”

Rosie had been on the verge of telling Aidan ‘no’ when the young man spoke. *He has now,* she said instead. *He calls himself ‘Hyperkinetic’*–the engineer in her could not help but be amused, and she suspected Aidan would also find it curious–*and he says he needs to talk.* Aloud she replied, with a smile, “It’s suggestive, in any case. So what’s on your mind?”

Guess she’s the new spokesperson for the group, Nick mused to himself. “Super Juice is on my mind. The word I’ve been getting is that there’s a new shipment coming in, and it’s stronger than the stuff that’s been going around. Somebody needs to put a stop to this, and I’m just the person to help you do it.”

Jez watched this newcomer with a wary expression, not sure what to make of all of this. She assumed herself to be the pessimist of the group, so there was a standard to maintain.

She felt an odd kind of tickle in the back of her mind, causing her to narrow her eyes a bit in suspicion. Her eyes scanned the crowd and settled on a man who seemed to be concentrating on something above one of the graves, rather than looking down at it. Something was odd about this fellow, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Rosie’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Super Juice. Her memory of the first time she’d seen a user of the stuff wasn’t likely to go away any time soon. That and his apparent self-assurance helped her make up her mind. “Maybe we have something to talk about after all,” she replied. “Oh, I’m just ‘Rosie’, now that we’ve been introduced. Is there something a little shorter that we can call you?” Then she turned to her teammates. “What do you ladies think? Should we continue this discussion elsewhere?”

She had learned that Jezebel was a particularly good judge of character, however much Jezebel might deny it herself. She was also keeping the line of communication open to Aidan: *Aidan, our new friend says there’s some new and more powerful Super Juice coming to town. Can you arrange transportation so we can talk about this someplace reasonably private? And can you check for anything that might corroborate his story?*

If Jez was paying attention to this conversation, she wasn’t showing it. Her eyes were busy examining the man in the crowd. She was trying to decipher what it was that was bothering her, but wasn’t able to make the connection yet.

Jez and Boreas would have guessed that Rosie was already in contact. She and Aidan had been working for some time on a way to take advantage of their respective abilities to create a very secure communications mode. Once they got it all worked out, it would even be possible to give them transceivers so they could also use it, or so they said.

Rosie had more or less gotten used to Jezebel being taciturn. Under the circumstances, she could even understand Boreas being less lively than usual. It was clear, however, that Jez was reacting to something in particular. Rosie glanced in the direction Jez was looking, then waited for the other woman to speak up.

Again, Jez showed no reaction to the conversation, the confused expressions of her compatriots, or having anyone else’s attention turned in her direction. Whether her lack of reaction was from concentration or obliviousness, no one could tell.

So,” Hyperkinetic said after waiting several beats for a response. “So. Is there some kind initiation here? Some form to fill out in triplicate, secret hand-shake, Anything? Should I have brought my towel? I don’t have to face some ravening bugblatter beast, do I?”

Hyperkinetic looked around as if realizing where he was and raised a hand to his lips:”Oh, I’m sorry. Are we taking like too seriously today? The sign said the price of admission was some tight threads and a flashy nickname. So are we gonna go bust some heads before another kid dies, OR WHAT?!”

Boreas watched the newcomer with interest. She had been one of the hardest hit by the brutality and deaths that they had witnessed. She thought that attending the funeral may relieve her depression, but it was having the opposite effect. What struck her most was looking at the kids of the fallen officers. If only they had been a few minutes quicker in their response.

She leaned in close to Rosie, “I’d feel more comfortable if we did this someplace else.”

Rosie met Boreas’s gaze. “I agree. Let me just set it up.” To Hyperkinetic she added, “We’ve got transportation, and shortly we’ll have a destination to go with it, where we can work this out.”

*Aidan, we have a consensus. It looks like we’re going to need another secluded rendezvous. Would you set it up and get back to us when you’re ready, please?*

*Is there a particular location you wish to use,* Aidan asked.

*Who, me?* Rosie replied. *Don’t tell me you forgot that I’m still new in town. No, I trust your judgment. Pick something suitable… like the hotel where you took me that first night, you fast mover, you.* Changing her tone so that Aidan would know she’d been teasing, she added, *Not the same place, though, certainly. Oh, and send transportation for four, too. Thanks.*

*Affirmative,* Aidan replied.

Boreas then extended her gloved hand out to Hyper Kinetic, “Hi I’m Boreas, nice to meet you.” She tried to put on the friendliest face despite the situation.

Robert noticed Jezebel’s interest in him and was about make a comment to himself when he felt a surge of energy nearby. Chaos energy…

Jezebel watched the man in the trenchcoat and realized that he noted her looking at him. Suddenly she felt an alarm bell go off in her head and her gaze was drawn to the air over the graves of the slain police officers.

One of the police widows screamed. “Oh my god, what’s that?!”

A dark, sinister apparition was forming over the graves, a thing with large skeletal wings, glowing eyes and claws as long as a grown man’s hand.

Rosie looked in the direction that Jezebel turned. “What the hell…?” Rosie breathed. *Aidan, belay that for now,* she followed up quickly. *Someone’s twisted idea of the Grim Reaper just materialized over the cops’ gravestones, we’ve got bystanders out the wazoo, and “I see bad things arising,”* she quoted. *I wish I could send you video as well as audio.* With that, she electrified herself and hovered just off the ground.

Jez’s blinks her eyes for a moment, refocusing her attention just above the man’s head. It was the cemetary behind him that was drawing her attention, not him. She drew back her lips and gritted her teeth, giving herself a decidely demonic expression.

“Damn it!” she cursed mostly at herself for not realizing it all sooner. She’d have to figure out later whether this unknown man had anything to do with the apparition.

“May lau ngan leu geen goon choy!” she shouted at the top of her lungs as she threw herself into a run towards the graves. To the casual observer it would appear a run of reckless abandon. To someone looking for the details, they would notice her left hand diving underneath the right side of her coat.

To those fluent in Cantonese, they’d recognize her shout as “Shed no tears until seeing the coffin!”

“Well, alright now!” Hyperkinetic crowed at the appearance of the wraith-like beastie. He cracked his knuckles and flexed his fists, but for all his apparent bravado — made a point of stepping between the apparition and the closest bunch of normals.

He steeled himself for the rush of energy that was sure to accompany the first blow and shouted:”Take you best shot bone-breath!”

Rosie naturally had no idea what Jez had just said, let alone what she was doing. All these months, and they still knew very little about one another. Nobody else needed to know that, though. She hung back as her teammate appeared to know what she was doing, ready to back her play, but not wanting to trip Jezebel up, either. Hyperkinetic’s war cry made her blink, though: .o0 He’d just better hope Jez doesn’t remember him saying that. 0o.

Casting aside his mortal mantle, the Warlock appeared amidst the crowd, a figure wreathed in fire and shadow.

“By the Seven Thunders of Maelos! Be abjured! Begone from this holy place!” he cried, his fingers crackling with power as he spoke.

The Warlock erected a Chaos ward over the assembled mourners, protecting them from the beast on the tombstone.

The screams caused Boreas to come to life. Surveying the situation, she noted the shrouded specter looming over the gathering. She fervently wished this was some sort of prank. On second thought she should have figured on something like this. It seemed that every time they met a new potential candidate, somebody nearly always tries to ruin the day.

Boreas did not fare too well in the last such encounter. She decided that this time she would fair better.

“Rosie, Jez…you gusy think you can handle the creepazoid here, I will take a quick glance around to see if he’s got any friends in the neighborhood. I mean we are in the cemetery, what better place to scare up a few ghosts and ghouls, right?”

“Good thinking,” Rosie replied as she watched the obvious power of the new stranger. Then she added, softly, “Help any stragglers you find. Then try to get behind this thing, if you can.” She decided not to get into the subject of whether she felt up to dealing with the creature itself.

The shadowy figure let out a scream of rage and hatred, its attempt to attack the mourners foiled by the Warlock’s spell. Evil glowing red eyes appear in the darkness of its form as it turns and attacks the mage.

Warlock felt a chill run through him to the core of his being when the creature struck him, but he felt certain there was no physical damage - this time.

“Begone! You are not permitted to reenter this world!” Warlock’s voice rang with power “By the power of the Seven Seals I command you!” Opalescent white energy flowed from his hands and washed over the creature. It let out another scream of rage and flew at the mage, narrowly missing him.

.o0 RE-enter?! 0o. The thought flashed through Rosie’s mind.

“Shit,” Hyperkinetic muttered under his breath, glancing at the energy shield protecting the assembled mourners. He wondered for just a second if he was out of his league, then launched himself in a flying side kick at the spectre.

Hyperkinetic felt as if he had suddenly thrust into a deep freeze as his leg passed through the spectre with apparently no effect.

That attack decided things, as far as Rosie was concerned. She rose up, now fully electrified, and aimed one of her standard lightning blasts at the monster. “You heard the man,” she called out. “Get lost, whatever you are!”

The creature turned its malevolent gaze at Rosie and its sneer turned to a look of shock when the heroine’s attack hit. The monster screamed out in pain and writhed in the air, obviously in agony.

“That’s more like it!” she said, readying another blast, a more concentrated one this time.

At the same time, Rosie gave herself a mental slap in the forehead. .o0 Some engineer I am. 0o. *Aidan, I just remembered: you can do quantum computations no sweat, and I have the entire communications spectrum at my fingertips. We’ve got at least 2 THz to play with. So get ready for digital audio and video! * And she sends him what she is seeing and hearing.

Boreas arrived next to Rosie and looked up at her. “Looks like Mr. Fright Night here came alone. Should we put him on ice or what?”

“Oh yes,” Rosie replied, keeping her eye on the thing. “He rates the full treatment. Just stay out of his reach. Go!”

“Look! It’s the Sentinels,” one of the police officers in the crowd shouted as he and his compatriots tried to get the rioting crowd under control. “Get that thing, whatever it is!”

“Always good to have the local team on your side,” Rosie said softly to Boreas. And she flew over in Hyperkinetic’s direction, to put herself between him and the ghoul. She also let fly with her next bolt, once she’d gotten as close as she could to the young man. “Stay back!” she shouted to him.

The bolt that flew from Rosie’s hand struck the creature and again caused it to scream in rage and pain.

“Had enough?” Rosie said. “Looks like nature and anti-nature don’t mix.”

Boreas, out of the corner of her eye saw a flash of light off of glass. Turning her head slightly, she saw Joe Zandros standing off to one side, television camera balanced on one shoulder, filming the battle.

“What is your mission here, creature of chaos? Why have you come?” The Warlock continues his abjuration as he speaks.

The creature does not speak, but the Warlock gets the impression that its purpose there was to cause as much havoc and kill as many people as possible.

“Damn,” Hyperkinetic swore under his breath as got to his feet and dusted himself off. “I AM out of my league..”

“Can you hit him with something other than hand-to-hand?” Rosie said over her shoulder to Hyperkinetic. Then she moved again, up at an angle, so she wouldn’t present a stationary target.

One of the police officers near the edge of the crowd appeared to begin to panic and drew his gun, training it on the spectre. He shot off three rounds in quick succession and - to the spectre’s surprise most of all - the bullets struck, tearing through the spectre like a hot knife through butter.

The Renegades and the Warlock all noticed that the spectre wasn’t translucent anymore, and they could see a black ichor-like substance oozing from the bullet wounds.

Rosie’s eyes went wide. “Do the cops in this town pack silver bullets or something?” she asked rhetorically. She watched to see the thing’s reaction, preparing another blast of the same intensity as the last one.

“That IS more like it,” Hyperkinetic shouted, as he noticed the black blood streaming from the wounded beast. The other Sentinels seemed to be doing okay, but Hyperkinetic wasn’t too sure the police officer who had shot the thing would fare so well if it turned its attention his way. So Hyperkinetic took a few steps and leapt…landing in position between the beast and the police officer.

“C’mon!” He shouted. “Let’s do this.” And he flexed his fists in preparation/frustration…

Two other police officers had drawn their guns and began to fire upon the creature, their shots winging it, causing more blood to run.

“Go away and leave my daddy alone!” A little boy’s cries could almost be heard over the din. Rosie and Hyperkinetic realized that he was the son of one of the slain police officers, and they watched as he picked up a rock and threw it at the creature. The rock hit the creature and glanced off, doing no damage.

“I’m serious,” Rosie called out. “What do you make your bullets out of?” And she let fly with the bolt that she had been holding.

*How’s the signal, Aidan?* Rosie sent. *Are you getting this? And if so, do you have any ideas about what’s going on? Because I’m at a loss. Is there something in their bullets that isn’t in that rock?* At the same time she wondered, what happened to the rest of the team?

*The bullets used by the York police department are standard issue -nothing special about them,* Aidan replied. “Perhaps there was something about your first attack against the creature that changed its molecular structure, or otherwise made it vulnerable to normal attacks.*

This cannot be permitted, thought the Warlock. He drew upon the Lesser Rune of Order, and shouted “Avaunt, demon! Lay no hand upon the youth, I command you!”

The boy picked up another rock and threw it. Again, the boy hit, and again, the rock bounced off without doing any damage

“Damn,” Rosie breathed as her latest bolt merely sizzled the air as it went past the monster. Rising until she was directly overhead, she pointed her hands straight down at the thing and unleashed still another bolt. “What part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand, you miserable bastard?” she shouted, riding the increasingly familiar sensation of energy coursing through her effortlessly.

She flew higher, moving to hover above the creature, as she let fly another bolt that barely hit - the creature had chosen the same moment to move, flinging itself at Hyperkinetic.

With a demonic howl, the creature rushed Hyperkinetic, slashing at him as it fled. Hyperkinetic felt the creature’s blow land with a solid thunk as his arm went numb from some otherworld energy.

The creature let out another howl of fustration and it disappeared into the distance.

The Warlock lowered the shields protecting crowd and boy, and looked around with vigilance for any further threat. He could sense nothing.

Rosie dove straight down to Hyperkinetic as the thing vanished. “Are you all right?” she asked. She was careful not to touch him, afraid that it might just hurt him worse. *Aidan,* she called, *we could use that pickup now, if you don’t mind. Whatever that thing was, it seems to have messed up our new visitor, and I think he could use our help.*

*Understood,* Aidan replied. *The van is on route, and will arrive at your location in approximately 10 minutes.*

*Thanks. We’ll be ready.* Rosie replied.

Aloud she continued, “I think we can help one another.” Then she stood back and waited for the others to regroup.

Turning to the crowd, Rosie called out, “Is everyone all right?” Then she said to the team, “Our transportation is on its way.”

The Warlock stood off to one side, observing.

“Yeah… yeah,” Hyperkinetic replied as he flexed his fingers and rubbed his arm. “Gonna be okay, I think. Hey, you don’t fight things like that too often, do ya’? ‘Cause I was feeling a little outclassed…and my powers didn’t react to its attack at all.”

“Where are we heading?” Hyperkinetic had asked Rosie. “You mentioned transportation….I hate to say this, but I’ve got a con…umm, a thing tonight. I know this superheroing thing doesn’t really have regular hours and all, but I’ve got people counting on me.”

“If you’ve got another engagement, just say so,” Rosie replied. “You seemed to have something urgent to talk about when we interrupted, and I thought we might go someplace more private to pick up where we left off.” The she shrugged. “But if you’ve got another engagement, we’re not going to twist your arm about it, either. On the other hand… our paths would have to cross again like this, if you wanted to get in touch with us again. It’s up to you. Now as to your other question…”

“If it’s any consolation,” Rosie said, “I’m not much for the supernatural either. Jezebel seems to have an idea what it was,” she continued, nodding toward her leather-clad punk teammate, “but you’ll have to decide for yourself whether asking her is a good idea.” Before he could decide how responsive her answer is, Rosie changed the subject. “Now, Hyperkinetic, was it? While we’re waiting, is there something shorter we can call you? Five syllables is a mouthful in action situations. Two or three is better,” she smiled.

“Yeah, just call me HK. Guess I didn’t really think about that when I was coming up with a name. Not too big on the supernatural, huh? What about the dude {nodding his head towards Warlock} over there flinging the mystic bolts and raising energy shields? Think he might know something about it?”

“I guess he might, if we could get his attention,” Rosie said. “He didn’t answer when I called out, but then, neither did my teammates. Dealing with supers is sort of like the proverbial ‘herding cats,’ I suppose.” She smiled. “If you’re sure you’re all right, then I’ll try again.” She stopped, then turned around. “HK, huh? That works, but just be careful you don’t put an ‘and’ between them.”

“Hey, hey, don’t get all hot one me, toots. I came to you for a good reason, and I plan to see it through. But I didn’t expect to be met by a reject from the Creature Feature, nor did I say I had to go NOW! I was simply stating that I had somewhere to be TONIGHT. “I realize we’re not getting off on the right foot here…I have the utmost respect for the lot of you, but I AM new at this whole thing. And I tend to mouth off when I’m nervous! “If we’ve got someplace to be, I’ll be. You can count on that.”

Rosie stops and turns around. “‘Toots’?” she says with a smile. “You’ve got spunk, and I like that. Stick around. This could be interesting.” To herself she adds, .o0 If only you knew how new we all are at this game. 0o.

Rosie went over to try to talk to the other newcomer.

“Hi. I’m Cracklin’ Rosie, and thanks a lot for helping us out. You seem to know something about that… whatever-it-was. Would you mind coming back with us and talking about it?”

The black-and-silver figure seems to notice her for the first time. He settles down from the slight height at which he hovers, golden mist dispersing beneath his boots. “That depends,” he says with a slight smile. “On who ‘we’ are. And where ‘back’ is. And you may call me ‘Warlock’.”

Rosie alighted in turn, meeting his smile with hers. “How do you do. ‘We’ are Boreas and Jezebel, who, along with myself, make up the Sentinels, of whom you may have heard, and this young man, who calls himself Hyperkinetic. As to where we’d be going, we haven’t decided yet. It will be private, though. We’re just waiting for transportation. What do you say?”

“I say that I will come with you, young Rosie, and hear what you have to say,” Warlock replied. “It was brave of you to confront the creature of Chaos.”

“I’m glad we got that out of the way,” Rosie smiles. “I think that what you know about that thing would be far more enlightening, though.” To Aidan she says, *I think we’re just about ready to go. What’s your ETA?*

*Three minutes, forty seconds,* Aidan replied. *There may be delays due to the people feeing the cemetary in the aftermath of the attack.*

“Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me.” Rosie saw a man she recognized as Joe Zandros approaching quickly, trying not to hit anyone with the portable television camera he was carrying. Zandros had made a reputation for be the one in the right place at the right time to cover Harbinger-related news stories.

“Excuse me, Cracklin’ Rosie? Do you have time for a few questions…”

Rosie turns to him, bringing her natural charm to bear as well. “Certainly, Mr. Zandros,” she smiles. “But we’ll be leaving here in just a few minutes, so we’ll have to be brief.” To the others she says, “Five minutes, people. If you’re coming, be ready to go.”

Warlock stands by enigmatically, watching, but not speaking.

Hyperkinetic saw the TV camera coming and stepped back a few paces, but was sure to say to Rosie: “I’m ready, Hotstuff.”

Keeping his back towards the camera as much as possible, HK went to the man who called himself Warlock. “So what the hell was that thing, and how come I couldn’t affect it? When I get hit, I usually absorb the kinetic energy of whatever hit me… but that thing…nothing.”

“There was no kinetic energy there to hit,” replies Warlock. “It was not truly in this world, though it was real enough and could do great damage. It’s energy was spiritual, for it was a being of pure chaos.”

Rosie smirked in HK’s direction, then shivered slightly at Warlock’s remarks. To compensate, she turned up the brightness on her smile when she faced the camera head on. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Cracklin’ Rosie,” Zandros said, focusing the camera on her. “You and the other Sentinels attended the funeral of the police officers who were murdered by Fear Inc. at the Royal Ontario Museum. Did you expect trouble of some kind?”

“Do you know what that monster was, and if it was in some way connected to Fear, Inc.?”

Rosie took a deep breath, then looked Zandros in the eye. “We attended this service today for the same reason that everyone here attended,” she said, “to pay our respects to heroes–those selfsame officers who gave their lives in the line of duty. As to that creature, at this time we cannot say what it might have been, or where it might have come from.” She paused, then added, not unkindly, are there any other questions, Mr. Zandros?”

“I saw you were talking to Hyperkinetic. Is he going to be joining the Sentinels? And this gentleman,” Zandros said, moving the camera to focus on Warlock. “Who is he and will he he joining the Sentinels as well?”

Warlock smiles enigmatically and says nothing.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself who he is,” Rosie replied, smiling again. Then she looked at Warlock and HK. “As to whether he or Hyperkinetic will be joining us, all I can say right now is that if they decide to join us, they would be welcome as far as I’m concerned, after what just happened here.”

“Not truly in this world?” Hyperkinetic mused. “I suppose that could do it. Good thing you were around, huh?” He said loudly, giving Warlock a solid clap on the back and smiling warmly.

“Excuse me, sir?”Joe Zandros took a few steps towards Warlock, the camera focused on the mage’s face. “Can you tell us who you are? Will you be joining the Sentinels?”

“I am the Warlock. And that remains to be seen. There are forces that wish to remain anonymous, yet desire that this city and its people remain safe.

For now, I am their emissary.”

“I see,” Joe Zandros said. “Warlock. You are a mage? Do you know Talisman?”

“I met her once when she was alive, yes. Her loss impoverished us all. We who remain honor her memory.”

“So you believe the rumors of her death to be true?” Zandros continued with his questions.

“Absolutely.”

“What makes you so certain,” Zandros asked. “No body was ever recovered.”

“You said it yourself, Mr. Zandros. I am a mage. It’s magic. That’s all I have to say on the matter.”

As Joe Zandros continued to question Warlock, Rosie saw the familiar primer gray van pull up to the curb about 100 metres away.

Rosie stood back and listened. She wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, and figured it was best not to show her ignorance unless absolutely necessary. Then she decided to ask someone who might be more forgiving. *Aidan?* she sent. *Are you getting this? Do you know about this woman ‘Talisman’ that they’re talking about? If so, who is… or maybe, was, she?*

*On second thought, Aidan,* Rosie added, *you can fill me in on the way.* Aloud she said, “Excuse me, Mr. Zandros, but I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this short.” She nodded in the direction of the van. “You see, our transportation has arrived, and we must be going.” To the others, she gestured inclusively. “After you.”

Zandros nodded. “Of course, Cracklin’ Rosie. Thank you for your time. And thank you, Warlock,” he said with a smile. “For answering my questions.”

Hyperkinetic had looked over the van before saying: “Wow, you guys really travel in style. But I guess getting there is the important thing, right?” And then he headed for the van.

Rosie waited until they were inside the van to reply. “What you’ve got under the hood is more important than what you look like.” When everyone was seated, she said, *OK, Aidan, let ‘er rip.*

“She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid.” HK said in his best Han Solo impersonation…”Or something like that? I don’t mean anything by it, HotStuff…”

Rosie was blase. “I didn’t think you did, son.”

“Son…SON! Ha…that’s more like it! We’ll make a ’straight man’ of you yet. “So where did you say we were goin’, anyway?”

“I didn’t say.” Though she was in the driver’s seat, Rosie was conspicuously not touching either the dashboard or the steering wheel. “That’s because, at the moment, I don’t know. But the van will get us there, with a minimum of fuss.”

As soon as Rosie finished speaking, the van began to move, steering its way through the parked cars and pedestrians. *Cracklin’ Rosie,* Aidan’s voice sounded in her head. *Could you please inform the others that the windows of the van will be darkening and not to be alarmed. It is for their own protection.* She could hear a touch of humor in his voice.

*My pleasure, Aidan,* Rosie replied. *And feel free to just call me ‘Rosie’ in private. It’s allowed.* There was a touch of humor in her manner as well. Aloud she said, “Let me once again welcome those of you who are joining us for the first time. You may notice the windows starting to darken. That’s intentional. Just a safety measure. Enjoy the ride.”

As the van pulled away Rosie noticed a black sedan pulling into traffic behind them. Seeing black sedans in cemetaries may not be unusual, however this particular car had been sitting idle the entire time the Sentinels had been at the funeral, and had arrived the same time the group had.

Rosie maintained her nonchalant posture. *Aidan, you sent only this one vehicle to the funeral, right? Well, someone seems to be surveilling us. Can you deal with it?* And she showed him the black sedan as she was seeing it.

*Only one vehicle was sent. The van is not equipped with anti-surveillance or counterespionage equipment,* Aidan replied. *Please wait while I run a trace on the license plate number.*

A moment later, Aidan spoke to Rosie again. *The car belongs to Avis, a rental car company.*

*Uh-HUH. What do you figure the chances are that it’s the same people who’ve been dogging us lately?* Rosie asked rhetorically.

*Very likely, if the manner in which they have been following you has been consistent,* Aidan replied.

*Roger that,* Rosie said. *In the meantime, I’ll tell the others. And if they are hostiles, can you try to lose them? You’re driving, after all.* Aloud she said, “Folks, we may have picked up a tail at the funeral. We’ll try to lose them, but if that fails, we may have to take more direct measures. Are you up for it?”

When Rosie looked in the review mirror, she suddenly remembered that, over the past few weeks, someone had been tailing the Sentinels whenever they had appeared in public. Rosie had never gotten the feeling that whoever - or whatever - it was had hostile intentions, just that they were being watched. The tail never interfered in anything the group had been doing - it was just there.

*Right. What do you say we pull over and ask them what’s going on? Find a spot that’s out of the way, if you wouldn’t mind.* To the others she said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to make an unscheduled stop. There’s reason to believe that whoever’s following us has been doing so for a while now. So if it’s all right with you, I’m going to ask them who they are and what they want. You’re all invited to join me. So far they’ve been nosy, but not threatening. So let’s not start anything unless we have to.” Rosie looked at her teammates. “Jez? Boreas? Shall we?”

“Why don’t we ask ‘em?” HK said, cracking his knuckles. “Real polite, like…” he added, with a twisted grin and violence in his eyes.

“Down, boy,” Rosie replied. “Like I said, we don’t start things. Besides, they’ve had plenty of ppportunities already, if they wanted to make trouble. We’ll give them a chance to explain themselves. If they start something, we’ll finish it, though, don’t worry.”

“Perhaps a confrontation is not what they seek,” says the white- haired Warlock, leaning forward from the shadows. “Why don’t we allow Miss Rosie the chance to speak with them before we react?”

“It was just a suggestion,” HK said. He leaned back, stretched his legs and crossed his ankles and laced his fingers together behind his head. “Diplomacy isn’t necessarily one of my strong suits, but I’ll be here to back you up if it gets ugly.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Rosie said. “Part of what I’m betting on is that while they saw you leave with us, they may not know who you are. I’d like to keep that ace in the hole while we can, if it’s all the same to you, just in case things do go south. Besides, right now you are our guests, which makes us responsible for what happens.”

Once the van and their tail stopped, Rosie looked around before getting out. She gestured for her teammates to follow her. As an afterthought, she looked back at the two men. “I’m just ‘Rosie’ to my friends,” she said with a smile. Then they walked out, stopping midway between their van and the black sedan. *Here we go, Aidan,* she signaled.

The sedan door opened and the driver stepped out. A black haired man, dressed in a dark blue suit wearing wraparound sunglasses. He closed the door and began to approach the Sentinels. As he approached he opened his jacket to reveal that he was carrying no weopons.

As he reached the trio he closed his jacket and extended his hand. “Good afternoon ladies, I apologize for the way we’re meeting. My name is Rook.”

HK turned to the cloaked magickian, cursing at the window’s darkness. “Ain’t these people ever heard of one way glass? Anything YOU can do to help us keep an eye on the ladies out there?”

“Yes, there is.” Warlock leans forward and opens the back door to the van.

“Damn, why didn’t I think of that.”

Rosie bowed slightly, but did not take his hand right away. As she did so, she glanced over his shoulder to see whether there was anyone else in the car. “How do you do, Mr. Rook. Now that you have our attention,” she replied, with just a touch of irony, “may I ask what it is you want?”

“I’ve been watching your group for about six weeks now, but I didn’t know if I wanted to approach you until today. Going to the funeral showed a lot of integrity and compassion, many people wouldn’t have gone. Sorry, that sounds condescending, and it wasn’t meant to.”

“Don’t worry,” Rosie smiled back. “I didn’t take it as condescension. We don’t know one another well enough for that yet.”

Rook leans over slightly allowing Rosie a better view of the empty vehicle. “Now back to your question, we’re in the same business and I’ve moved my area of operation to York. I wanted to make sure we met in the open and quietly as oppossed to on some rooftop, in the middle of the night.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Rosie replied. Via link she said, *Aidan, can you find references for recent incidents that might be linked to this gentleman?* Aloud she continued, “Would you like to be more specific about that?

*No reported activity of anyone by the codename of Rook,* Aidan replied to Rosie.

*OK, let me rephrase that. Can you find any reports of situations likely to have involved lone crimefighter activity in the past six weeks? Rank in descending order of probability that someone fitting this gentleman’s description was involved.* Rosie sometimes had to remind herself that, for all the sophistication of his fantastic distributed intelligence, Aidan was still a computer at heart, and thus, sometimes still required much the same degree of care in the phrasing of queries, in order to get meaningful responses.

There was a brief pause. “No reports of any activity that could be attributed to Rook’s description. However, there was a notation made by Canadian Immigration that Mindblade, a powerful psychic Harbinger and member of the Mercury Foundation team based out of St. Augustine, Oregon, entered the country two days ago.”

“I thought it would be best if I made my presence in York known to you, after all this is Sentinel turf. I’d hate to be mistaken for a bad guy and get my ass kicked.”

“It would probably be counterproductive, yes,” Rosie drawled. “Well, we can simply agree not to step on one another’s toes where possible, and leave it at that. It’s a big city, after all. Or better yet, we’re on our way to a meeting. Would you like to join us? We could then continue this discussion in private, at our leisure.” She gestured at the van, then looked at her teammates. “What do you think? Do we have room for one more?”

“That might not be a bad idea, if you don’t mind having another guest,” Rook replied.

“That should just about settle it, then. I think we can also arrange to have the rental agency pick up your car, too.” To Aidan she said, *You can arrange that, right? And by the way, what do you think of us making this a full-fledged recruitment drive?*

*It is being taken care of,* Aidan replied. *As for a “recruiting drive”, it might be appropriate. My calculations show that, among other things, there is a 72.35572% chance that the unknown group that attacked the Sentinels at the CN Tower will make their presence known, and a 25.77746% chance that there will be a terrorist bomb threat in the city at one of three major landmarks. These probabiliites do not, of course, include regular crimes committed by the criminal population, be they normal human or Harbinger.*

“I’d appreciate that, I’d hate to have to cover the damage deposit if anything happened to the car. Just let me get my bag out of the car, the rental agency really doesn’t need the equipment I have in the trunk. Rook walked around and took a large duffel bag out of the trunk, walking towards Rosie he smiled and gestured to the van. “After you.”

Rosie glided over and opened the side panel, smiling and gesturing in turn. “Have a seat. Your rental won’t be any problem.” She gave Boreas and Jezebel a knowing glance. When everyone was inside, she introduced Rook to Hyperkinetic and Warlock, then said to Aidan, *Take it away.*

HK looked over at Warlock. “So, what do you make of that?” He’d asked, inclining his head towards the core of the Sentinels and their darkly garbed and mysterious male companion. “He might even be spookier than you…in a ‘covert ops’ kinda way, o’ course..”

The van began to move again and they were on their way. With all windows of the van darkened, it was impossible for them to know where they were going. After about twenty minutes, they could hear sounds that the van must have entered a building of some kind.

*You have reached your destination, Rosie,* Aidan told the heroine. *This is a secure location where you can have your discussion. Unfortunately, a situation has a risen for which I need Boreas’ and Jezebel’s assistance. You will be capable of conducting the discussions without them? And do not be concerned if things turn bad -I have… representatives on the premesis that will render assistance if required.*

*The day I can’t handle three men by myself is the day I retire my boots,* Rosie joked. *If you need their help, by all means, ask them. This seems to be a pretty well-behaved crowd, but it’s always nice to know there’s backup if necessary. Thanks.*

To the others, she said, “As you may have guessed, we’ve arrived. All ashore that’s going ashore. Boreas, Jezebel, you’re needed elsewhere.”

Boreas and Jezebel look at each other, then Jez nods.

“See you later, Rosie,” they both say in union, causing them to laugh slightly.

Rosie smiled and blew them a kiss in return as she got out of the van. “Take care y’all,” she said.

Rook took his cue from Rosie and jumped out of the vehicle, reaching back he retrieved his duffel bag and moved away from the van, waiting for the others.

*OK, Aidan, we’re here,* Rosie said. *Where to now?*

*Have the meeting anywhere in the building that you like,* Aidan replied as the door of the van closed and it pulled away.

Continued in Darkness Rising

© Lisa Hartjes, 2001

Rosie Tries Out for the Team - Story Arc #8

Rosie Tries Out for the Team

Gillian smiled at Aidan’s words. It sure sounded like he was starting to get an attitude. She wasn’t positive of it’s origin, but she decided to take mental credit for it anyway.

“First things first,” Rosie replied. “That’s fair. So let’s begin, shall we?” Stepping across the threshold, she gave the interior of the room the once-over. She felt as she had stepped into the middle of one of the largest dance clubs in York. Multi-leveled, the building was packed with people. The dance floors were filled with gyrating bodies and the music was a decibel or two below deafening.

Rosie flinched against the initial barrage of sound. Then she edged along the wall toward where the bar was, the better to take in the scene and start trying to figure out the scenario’s objective. She did her best to pay attention to the figures and decor as she moved. _My outfit would go practically unnoticed in a place like this,_ she thought.

The club was decorated in a mixture of art deco and industrial, with no real rhyme or reason to it. A small group of people were in the mosh pit, thrashing around to music that only they seemed to hear. A band was beginning to set up on the stage, but there were no signs indicating who was going to be performing.

Guardian spoke out loud. “Would Eldritch and Flar please report to the training room.” Gaurdian then motioned the others into the room as she waited for replies from the other two missing members.

“Neither of them will be present for this exercise,” Aidan replied. “They are otherwise engaged.”

“Acknowledged” Guardian noded and headed into the room.

Boreas who had snarfed down a couple painkillers with a evian chaser turned in the direction of the cacophonous sounds emanating from the next room.

“Hey Aidan, why didn’t you tell us there was a Rave going on next door? Still a little out of it, Boreas went through the door, not realizing what she was getting into. In a half daze she made her way over to the bar.

“What can I getcha,” the bartender asked moments after Boreas found a spot to squeeze herself into.

Guardian strode into the club and headed directly for the stairs as soon as she spotted them. She climbed halfway up them and looked around. The club
was packed, with people dancing to what she would term “distracting noise”.

Guardian moved to look out at the people and tried not to pay attention to what they were doing. It looked to her like they were all dying in some painful way from the noise that was filtering through the club. Guardian shook her head and tried to look for anything out of place not realy liking this place at all.

Rosie was amused to see that this particular establishment didn’t seem to believe in carding. Ordering a rum & coke for herself, she looked around again. _I’d hate to think such bad taste was copied from a real place,_ she mused. _Even though it suits the noise they’re making._ “Drink” in hand, she continued moving toward the right-hand side of the club, taking the stairs in the lower-right hand corner up to the balcony.

Rosie noticed Jezebel’s apparent disappearing act, and decided that a place like this was probably very close to her natural environment. So she stayed on the second floor, still trying to get a handle on the situation, while also trying not to let the underlying technology–and its implications–distract her, yet.

The dancing continued on the balcony to the north and the tables were packed with people drinking and having a good time. Some people were also sitting on the bleachers.

Jezebel stepped into the room and directly into the club in the process. She immediately melded into the crowd, as if she had been there before, disappearing into the darkness and the pulsating crowd.

Jezebel moved into the crowd, avoiding the bar near the main entrance. Everyone knows that that’s where all the losers, boozers, and jailbait hang out. Her main goal, for the time being, was to disappear into the crowd so that the rest of her team would loose sight of her. At least for the first couple of minutes.

She resisted the urge to start moving with the music. It would have helped her to fully blend in, but wouldn’t help much for this situation.

Jez moved across the dance floor, the rhythm of her steps following along with the beat of the music. She moved with a focused attention otherwise. Once across the dance floor, she started up the stairs, weaving through the party goers clustered there. She headed straight for the DJ’s booth, intent on providing he or she with a smoke break… Whether they wanted one or not.

The DJ in the booth was a young man with spiked neon yellow and orange hair who looked to have every available square inch of his body tattooed or pierced.

“Hey Bob.” Jezebel shouted over the music while knocking on the glass to the DJ booth. “Steve said to take a smoke break. Put the turn tables on auto and take your break before it gets busy out there.”

The guy nodded, flipped a couple of switches then left the booth, locking the door behind him.

Boreas looked up at the bartender. “What can you get me? Hmmm, how about a cure for this headache?” As he turned for some aspirin she reached out and tugged on his sleeve. “Actually, strike that…I just remembered where I am. Don’t need any fake drugs, sides I just felt the Tylenol kick in. A pair of ear plugs would be nice though…ya know to drown out this incessant noise.”

She rapped on the counter and looked into the mirror behind the bar. “You can do that right Aidan?” It didn’t occur to her to ask for the music to be turned down a tad.

The bartender chuckled. “If you can’t stand the noise, get outta the kitchen,” he replied. “And the name’s not Aidan, it’s Joe.” His attention was caught by someone further down the bar wanting to order a drink. He opened his mouth to say something when there was a loud explosion and debris came raining down on the dance floor in the middle of the room.

From her vantage point on the second floor, Rosie could see a group of men wearing some kind of body armor and wielding bfg’s come swarming in through the hole in the wall. She recognized the symbol that they were wearing from the recent newspaper article about the kidnapping attempt of the Brechtelstein ambassador - it appeared to be the Wolf Pack.

Guardian looked around for the source of the noise, then ran to the top of the stairs. She caught sight of the invading armored people and frowned, remembering her past instance with them and her ruined jacket. She really liked that jacket too. Guardian turned her attention from the dance floor and looked at the upper levels and the level she was on for the sniper and back up for those on the dance floor, remembering their tactics from the convention.

Even though she knew that this was only an illusion, even though she knew that this was calculated to have this effect on her, nonetheless, Rosie disliked the intruders on the spot. Having such power, and using it only for harm… She set her “drink” down and flexed her fingers, glad that she had already taken the high ground. Feeling the charge build, she tried to estimate how many there were, and to get some idea of what villains such as these (she could hardly bring herself to call such creatures “men”) could want in a place like this, as well as to see what her more experienced comrades would do. Most important to her was bringing down the pack of hyenas without the habitues getting hurt.

Boreas flinched reflexively at the loud explosion. Aidan was definitely not playing fair here. She then spun around to see what had happened, and tried to remind herself that most of the people she saw were holographic images and not in any real peril.

However, she chastised herself, perhaps it would be just as good to treat these people as real. A test of sorts to see if she really is cut out for all this heroic stuff. Besides Jez, Rosie and Guardian were real enough. She reached down amidst the chaos and slipped on her blades, ready for trouble.

Rosie didn’t see any of her (prospective) teammates. Thus she decided to take the initiative. With a thought, her body was covered in that distinctive blue-white lightning, creating interference patterns even as it raised her up above the railing. “Oh boys,” she called, twirling as she came into view, “if you’re looking for a party… I’ll show you a CRACKLIN’ good time!” As she spoke, she pointed and let fly with a lightning bolt at the nearest of the ones she could see.

The bolt crackled as it hit one of the armored men. The blast flung him backwards off his feet and he hit the wall, then slumped to the floor.

Boreas decided to stay low and move close to the source of the trouble, ready for any sign of trouble. She didn’t want to draw their fire just yet as there were too many innocents about. However if any of them threatened to fire she would have to do something heroic she guessed. Although she couldn’t think of what at the moment.

It then dawned on her that the original attackers had been targeting someone for assassination. Perhaps Aidan was having these holo-thugs react after a similar fashion. She tried to figure out who they were looking for, if anyone. That would be the person they would have to protect.

There was another explosion and three more men in armor came bursting through the wall near the bar on the main floor. They quickly spread out and moved behind cover.

Upstairs, the armored men also spread out and moved for cover.

Jez looked around quickly then tried to force the door of the control room. She swore, realizing that she’d probably need to break it down to get inside.

Guardian spotted the armored men moving for cover. She tried to sneak up on one of them in hopes of disarming them and disabling him, but knocked over a small table with a crash!

Rosie nodded with satisfaction. First blood, and the initiative, to her side. More importantly, her actions and overall flamboyance should keep the opposition’s attention–and firepower–on her, rather than all the bystanders. It was a good start. Pressing her advantage, she called out, “Oh, don’t run and hide, boys! That was just a warning! Surrender now, while you still can!” At the same time, she was scanning the communications bands to see if the “club’s” sound system was wireless. She frowned slightly when she didn’t find anything.

.o0 It was worth a try, 0o. Rosie thought. .o0 But I guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way after all. 0o. Aloud she said, “All right, if you want to play hide-and-seek, I’m more than happy to be ‘It.’”

Boreas shook off the lingering effects of the drugs in here system as she felt the adrenal rush kick in. One thing was for sure, she would definitely be missing those early morning classes.

With a fluid grace she skated up to the nearest opponent. She came head on, but at the last moment pirouetted out of the way. Positioned off to one side she gingerly reached out with a hand to touch the assailant. “Interested in a little game of freeze tag?” she said with a mocking smile.

The temperature dropped dramatically and where she touched the man a thin sheen of frost appeared. It was hard for Boreas to tell how strongly he had been affected by her touch because of the darkened faceplate of his helmet.

Two of the armored men on the second floor took aim at Rosie and the beams from their bfg rifles hit her squarely in the chest. Rosie felt like she got hit by a mac truck when the energy bolts from the rifles hit her and she was flung back through the air, hitting the far eastern wall of the club.

The member of the Wolf Pack that Guardian had tried to sneak up on turned and fired at her, hitting her on the right shoulder. The force of blast sent her flying backwards through the balcony railing and she fell down onto the dance floor, narrowly missing landing on top of a group of dancers trying to flee the dance floor.

The crowd of club goers erupt into mass hysteria and the air is filled with screams of terror as the innocent bystanders try to flee the club.

Dazed but still aware of her surroundings, Rosie thought, detachedly, .o0 About time… 0o.

The three armored men on the ground floor aim at Boreas and fire their weapons. Two of the shots narrowly miss her, but hit two women in the panicked crowd behind her. The screams of the crowd increased tenfold when the blasts ripped through the women, blowing off the head of one woman and almost cutting the other in half.

The third shot hit Boreas squarely on her left hip, sending her flying off her feet and into the crowd. She narrowly missed landing on top of Guardian.

Shaking the stars out of her eyes, Rosie got to her feet and turned her force field back on. She’d drawn their fire, all right, and people were dead anyway. Pointing at the nearest target, she let fly with another bolt, this one more tightly focused than the previous one. “Bastard,” she muttered as it lanced across the room, though even she could not have said whether she was addressing the “villains,” the mysterious Aidan, or herself.

The bolt hit the Wold Pack member she had struck before, sending him flying backwards with a loud crack and distinct smell of ozone. He went flying back through the hole in the wall and disappeared into the night.

“Damn,” she muttered. “Must be rockier than I thought… Didn’t mean to hit the same guy twice…”

Guardian quickly stood up and took a quick evaluation and looked at Boreas. “Find the others of the team. Take out the snipers. I will go on the dance floor and draw their fire. I can handle the shots. They need to be taken out quick before any more deaths occur. Go quickly!”

Guardian then moved into the crowed glaring at the patrents to get them out of her way as she stepped out on to the cleared dance floor and looked around.

“I see your aim still hasn’t improved since the conferance. You really should look for another line of work because you couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn!” Gaurdian tried to put sarcasim in her voice like she had heard on tv, trying to make it sound as taunting as possible. “Those pea shooters couldn’t hurt a fly!”

Jezebel walked casually over to the railing looking down on the ground floor. She surveyed the goings-on down below with a fairly confused expression on her face.

“*sweeeeeeeeeek!*” Jez let out a loud, shrill whistle, trying to get someone’s attention. The sound was (probably) lost in the general confusion and din of the club.

Not getting a response, she started to head down the stairs. She proceeded to walking into the middle of the firefight like she was walking into her own kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

“Hey!” Jez said outloud, to just about anyone who would listen. “What the hell is going on? Something’s not right. This isn’t the mission I programmed.”

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, she turned her gaze towards the gunmen. “Who the hell are these blockheads? They look like rejects from the last Stallone movie… No one is going to take these guys seriously.”

She paused for a second, getting a bit annoyed that no one was paying attention to her conversation. “Hey! Is anyone listening to me?!”

.o0 Maybe not, 0o. Rosie grumbled to herself. .o0 But they sure rang _my_ chimes. 0o. Still, she tried to keep an eye out for anyone taking aim at Guardian’s back.

Boreas shook off the effects of the blaster fire as she laid on the dance floor. She tried to screen out the screams and shouts from the startled patrons and concentrate on what Guardian had said to her. Evidently the Alluring Amazon was much more confident in Boreas’s abilities than she was.

She quickly rolled to her feet when she noticed the casualties. She hesitated for the briefest of moments in shock, her mouth agape at the headless woman that was next to her. It was so realistic, she had to convinced herself again that these are only computer generated images. Still she feared that she would have trouble sleeping tonight.

Standing there, she looked over at the assailant that she had put the freeze on before. She concentrated on his position and bringing her arms up for effect drew his body heat into her, significantly dropping his body temperature in the process. “Unless you enjoy being turned into a popsicle I would advise dropping the gun.”

One of the Wolf Pack members, using a table for cover, took aim at Guardian’s back and shot, hitting her full in the back. She went flying forward, ploughing through several tables before she landed face down about twenty feet away.

The remaining armored men on the second floor aimed and fired at Rosie, both of them missing her by a hair. The blasts went past her and hit the wall, creating holes and a shower of concrete, paint and plaster.

The man in front of Boreas stands there motionless, watching her.

The last two Wolf Pack members on the ground floor take a bead on Jez and fire. Both blasts miss - one wildly, while the other is close enough that it singes Jez’s hair.

Jez, still oblivious to the imminent danger, “What the hell was that?”

“Hey, that was my hair!” Jez said, looking up to where she imagined Aidan would be. “My hair is going to go back to the way it was when the session is over, right?”

Sensing a momentary lull in the action, Rosie took the chance to get some of her wind back. She also took the opportunity to register what she’d just seen and heard, and figure out what to do next. The fact that Gillian only got shot at in response to her declaration disturbed her much more than the statement itself. Who was the real opposition here? And what to do about it?

Rosie decided to try something different, now that she felt somewhat less enervated. She was very concerned about the fact that the room had somehow managed to replicate her energy effects so precisely, on the spur of the moment, when she had never been here before. But attrition was working against them, and Gillian didn’t appear to be getting through either.

Raising her force field again, she flew toward the doors, like an arc of electricity. Facing the entrance at an angle, hovering just off the floor, she called out, “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, Mr. Aidan, but I think we’ve all had enough. Open these doors now, before we have to find out how much excess juice they can soak up.” And the crackling glow around her hands increased, as if by way of emphasis.

“Hey I got my guy covered.” Shouts an excited Boreas. She looks a lot more confident than earlier. “How are the rest of you doing?” She asks.

She then glares back at the armored trooper waging a finger. “Don’t even think about it wormboy. I have had a long hard day with and could really workout some of this aggression, but I got a soft spot for smart guys. So don’t be stupid.”

Everyone but the Sentinels suddenly stopped moving in mid action and the room went silent.

“You are taking exception to the simulation, Cracklin’ Rosie?” Aidan’s voice flowed through the room. “The simulation in progress is an accurate representation of what would occur should the Wolf Pack be hunting the Sentinels, if you pardon the pun,” he said in a neutral voice. “Forgive me for taking liberites with the program you wanted, Jezebel, but I believed it would be more effective as a training tool for the entire team with the modifications that I made. I have determined that there is a 63.287% chance that the Sentinels will be encountering the Wolf Pack again due to Guardian’s interference in their attempt to kidnap the Brechtelstein ambassador.”

A concerned look came over Boreas’s face as Aidan’s statistical comments. “What you mean like they will be hunting us or something? Oh, this is just what I need! Perhaps we should lay low for a while until the cops or Interpol catch these luzers.”

“It is unlikely they will make an active effort to track down the Sentinels,” Aidan replied. “But I am confident that if they learn of the team’s presence at a particular location and they are in a position to interfere or intervene, that they will do so. It is also likely that any efforts the Wolf Pack might make against the team will be specifically geared at Guardian. They have exhibited this behaviour in the past and will in all likelihood leave the rest of the team alone in their pursuit of her -unless, of course, we ‘interfere’.”

Rosie lowered her hands to her sides, turned and floated over to where Guardian lay. Leaning over, she asked, with an ironic tone in her voice, “Is she all right? I don’t suppose you calculated to five significant figures just how big a jones they’d have for her for spoiling their fun, too, did you?”

Guardian stood and dusted herself off. “My tactic worked, though I believe I underestimated the effectiveness of their weapons.”

Rosie touched down on the floor, and looked back at the entrance. “All right. I don’t mind that you pounded on me. Everything about this scene told me we were the likely targets,” she continued, “but I couldn’t warn anyone. So I drew their fire, since we couldn’t have stopped them all in time for the bystanders to get away… But they killed people anyway, and things seemed to be getting out of hand…”

She sighed. “I think I see now the point you’re trying to make. If they really are this tough, then we’ve got a lot to do, and not much time to do it. And I made up my mind when I got this power to do everything I could so people won’t die like that. If you’ll have me, I’m yours for the long haul. Now will you kindly come out where I can see you? I think it’s time we met face to face.”

Boreas chuckled to herself at Rosie’s last comment. “Oh this’ll be good.”

Gillian glanced upwards in the “direction” of Aidan’s voice and then shrugged. She glanced around, saw Boreas was closest, and made a beeline right for her.

“Hey, is my hair okay? It’s not singed or anything is it?”

Boreas suddenly got a very concerned look on her face. “Uh, Jez I am afraid the news isn’t good.” She reached out to examine some tangled strands. “Look at all these splits ends! Do you even know what Conditioner is used for?” She said with a slight smile.

In spite of the situation, Rosie snorted. Jez had walked right into that one.

An immediate look of concern hit Jez’s face, and I do mean hit. It faded after a second though, “You’re just pulling my leg. The training room can’t give me split ends.”

Since, apparently her hair was back to normal, Gillian totally forgot about it for now. She was already planning what sort of practical joke she was going to have to pull on Boreas. Maybe something involving blue food dye and chicken feathers. “Jezebel, Boreas and Guardian, what do you have to say? Is Cracklin’ Rosie to become part of the team,” Aidan’s disembodied voice asked. “If they agree, then we’ll meet face to face.” Aidan chuckled, and Rosie got the impression that he found the phase amusing for some reason.

_Him and everyone else,_ Rosie thought.

“Heck Aidan we did away with the grueling initiation process to this sorority long ago. She seems more than competent and willing, plus she has a good had on her shoulders. She gets my vote, the more the merrier I say.”

She then sidles over to Rosie, “Just remember not to snicker too much when you peak behind the curtain at the great and terrible Oz.”

“Thanks,” Rosie replied, “for the vote of confidence.” To herself she said, .o0 ‘Oz’? Is Aidan not going to be what he seems, whatever that is? Well, here comes the moment of truth… 0o.

Guardian looked at Boreas with a puzzled look on her face, which she dismissed with a quick shake of her head. “I agree with Boreas,” she said. “The team is in need of experienced members.”

Rosie glanced up at Guardian. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

“Well, will we have to take money out of the pizza pot if we let her in?” Jez asked. “I mean, is it going to be a lot of trouble to get her one of those fancy, high back chairs with her symbol on the back of it? If she’s not going to cut down on pizza night, then I vote yes.”

With that, Jez turned her head to face Rosie, smiled and gave a quick eye wink. As if that last statement was all a joke. Not that she’d want her teammates to know that.

Rosie’s mouth curled up slightly at the corners. “Thanks,” she said, which was all the response she could muster at the moment. The suspense was killing her.

“Very well,” Aidan replied. The dance club scene faded away from view to reveal a very large room with what appeared to be heavily reinforced walls. The walls were covered with a large metallic grid and obvious sensors, projectors and some things that neither Rosie nor the others could identify sprang from the walls, ceiling and floor.

The small spider-like robot that had been riding on Guardian’s shoulder before the simulation skittered along the floor and came to a stop in front of Rosie. It paused, looking up at her, giving Rosie the eerie feeling that there was a lot more to little mechanical beast than could be seen.

The little spider then reared up on its hind legs and did a complicated bow. “I am Aidan,” came Aidan’s voice from the robot. “And I am Aidan.” The voice echoed from speakers hidden in the walls. Then, about five feet in front of Rosie an extremely lifelike holographic projection of the head (though it was about two feet tall) of a man that looked a lot like Sean Connery (from the movie Medicine Man) appeared. “And I am Aidan.”

Boreas blurted out suddenly. “And I’m Spartacus!”

“Sorry couldn’t resist that one.” She added sheepishly to Jez

Jez looked at Boreas with an unaffected, but slightly confused expression. She would have to remember to ask her who Spartacus was.

“Aidan is an acronym for Artificially Intelligent Decentralized Analytical Network. To put it very simply,” the head explained. “I am a sentient computer program.”

“We affectionately refer to him as Big Brother.” Boreas quipped.

Rosie stared blankly for fully ten seconds. She could almost hear the click of the pieces falling at last into place. “‘Cover up the blank spots/Hit me on the head…’” she at last quoted, in hushed tones. Laughter overtook her before she could say anything else.

Jez, still unconcerned about the goings on, just shook her head slowly and mumbled under her breath. “The valium supply is going to be dwindling around this place…”

“I’m… sorry,” she gasped out, getting herself under control again. “I’m… NOT… laughing at you… Even if the first thing that came to mind was the last line of a song by… Heh… Talking Heads…” Looking directly at Aidan’s hologram as she said this last made her laugh once more, holding her sides, before the reality of what she was seeing sobered her up again.

Now that the tension had passed, Rosie was not only relieved, she was amazed. She looked at the spider-bot, then at the hologram again, awestruck. The engineer in her was threatening to take over. Questions were coming fast and furious, and she had no idea where to begin with them. So she turned to something she did understand.

Looking at the others, Rosie smiled. “I’m forgetting my manners. I haven’t properly shown you how grateful I am to all of you for taking me on. Thank you.” She rose up until she was parallel to the ground at shoulder height, and, without further preamble, kissed each of her new teammates in turn, stopping short only when she got back to Aidan. “I’m sorry, I’ve never kissed a computer before,” she said to his image. “Would you feel it if I did?”

*”Hell-O…* For the first time, in quite a bit of time, Gillian was suitably speechless. At first she didn’t realize what Rosie was about to do. When she actually did it, Gillian just remained still. Not to avoid offending Rosie, but because she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

Once Rosie backed away, Gillian’s eyes slid to the side to look at Aidan and then slide to the other side to look at Boreas.

Boreas was looking at Gillian quizically trying to figure out what was going on. Do they know each other she thought? Then her eyes went wide and looked like a deer caught in the headlights as Rosie approached her.

“I’m afraid not,” Aidan replied seriously.

“That’s too bad,” Rosie replied with equal seriousness. Then she blew him a kiss. “But the thought counts, too, and you are a handsome devil–for a Big Brother.” She turned and smiled at Boreas as she said this last. Then, lowering herself back to the deck, she looked at them all again. “So what do we do now?” she asked, still smiling.

Boreas stood there in amazed shock. Evidently Rosie was…French? She didn’t act like it though. Wide-eyed she squeaked out, “Y-y-you’re welcome.” She then spun her head and looked at Jez to see what her reaction was fearing that she was the only one looking foolish at this point.

Rosie didn’t miss Boreas’s apparent panic. She walked over, hands outstretched. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just so glad to have made the cut, to at last be among fellow supers, and words felt inadequate to show how I felt.”

“Y..Y..Yeah sure, no harm done. A simple handshake or perhaps a hug will suffice next time.” Boreas said trying to cover up her embarrassment..

She reached up and doffed her mask, exposing eyes with strangely gray pupils. “And I guess the answer to what we do now is, I start by telling you who I am, now that we’re all on the same side.” She ran her fingers through her hair before continuing. “OK. My real name is Cynthia Scott. I’m an electronics engineer from the States, and up to a year or so ago, that was about all. So far as I know, at this point about the only thing I can do with this power that I haven’t mentioned yet is scan the communications-band portions of the electromagnetic spectrum.” Turning to look Jezebel in the eye, she added, “By the way, you were right about there being people close to me, Gillian.”

_Rosie…or Cynthia certainly was an interesting person,_ thought Melissa. She did appreciate the openess and trust she portrayed and in spite of the liplock, she thought she was really really going to like the girl.

“Do now?” Boreas stretched and let out a slight yawn. “I dunno, but it’s kinda pretty late isn’t it? I wouldn’t mind catching some serious sleep before tomorrow. Especially if I have to start worrying about this wolf bozos out to get us.”

Gillian, having regained some of her composure, wasn’t looking at Boreas any more. She turned her attention back to Rosie and had regained the use of her voice.

“Okay, first of a