Chapter 43: Changing Roles
"BBFO has offices in our version of New York?" asked Peter. He was sitting in a conference room with his wife and Saurial, sipping a cup of quite good coffee from the rather expensive espresso machine in the corner of the room.
Saurial sipped from her own cup and said, "These are leased. Asti decided we might need someplace secure in this universe eventually. We're not planning on the same level of expansion as we've done in Ellen's universe, though."
"Which is a shame," said Astilabor's voice from the room speakers, "as I'm quite sure FamTech would be very competitive in the market here. Even Stark doesn't have the same level of tech." The Family had their own technology, as well as access to that of the Asgard, that of Weyland-Yutani, and the technical database of the United Federation of Planets, not to mention whatever Dragon's family had accessed in the Marvel and DC Universes.
Saurial shrugged. "We've no need. We took over Weyland-Yutani to avoid a power vacuum and stop their idiocy, but we would rather work with local players."
MJ got an evil glint in her eye. "I wouldn't mind seeing Tony Stark's reaction if you showed up in a set of armor and started calling yourself, 'Iron Lizard.'" It would of course use the same color scheme as Stark's armor.
That set Saurial to laughing. "That's not a terrible idea, ignoring the fact that I don't need the armor, but I think I have other priorities right now." Tony was used to putting people off their game, so she wasn't opposed to doing the same to him. It was probably mean-spirited, though, as the man was already going through therapy because of information given to him by the Family.
"Speaking of other priorities," continued Asti, "your guests have arrived. I will guide them to the conference room."
Peter had gone over the list of possibilities for people to lead work on a global space force with Saurial and agreed with her assessments, but he had suggested that reaching out to Nick Fury with the problem might still be useful. The spymaster was quite adept at pulling together people with unusual skills. Given the information that the Family had provided to Fury about HYDRA, it could even be argued that Fury owed them a favor. The man himself had begged off direct involvement in response, as expected given his own problems, but he was sending some representatives to speak with them. Peter and MJ were along in costume to provide a familiar masked face to whomever was sent.
The three people who entered the room were not what Peter had been expecting. The first man carried himself in a way that suggested a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but the other two were an elderly couple dressed in well-tailored, expensive, yet conservative clothing.
The agent stopped and raised an eyebrow when he saw Saurial, but quickly continued. "Saurial, I presume? My name is Phil Coulson. I work for Director Fury, and he's asked me to work with you on the project you suggested." He gestured to his companions. "This is Doctor Henry Pym, and his wife, Janet van Dyne."
Saurial looked with interest at the couple. They could have been stunt doubles for Michael Douglas and Michelle Pfeiffer, but it wasn't clear how much meaning that had. The Avengers in this world had a Wasp, but it was possible that this world's version was Hope van Dyne, or somebody else entirely. Astilabor probably knew the answer, or would know by the end of this meeting. Saurial had to wonder if Scott Lang was the current Ant-Man, too. Pym was a bit of dick in almost every incarnation -- the question would be how much of one this one was, and whether or not they could work with him?
Spider-Man and Arachne rose from their seats to shake hands. Peter said, "Doctor Pym, it's a pleasure. I've read a number of your research papers. I wasn't aware you had an interest in space science?"
Pym looked slightly disgruntled. "I don't, especially, though I of course keep up with the general science literature and follow the advancements related to physics and materials sciences."
Janet glanced at her husband in a subtle gesture that spoke of long experience with handling her husband's mannerisms. "Director Fury felt that we could contribute, given that one of the key challenges to projecting power into space is lifting mass into orbit out of the Earth's gravity well."
Even under the masks, it was clear when Peter and MJ realized the implications of that. "Of course," replied Peter. "It should have been obvious." Having the Pyms involved would also provide a degree of legitimacy to their effort, although Hank Pym's prickly personality would likely also add some challenges. "I'm sure having the two of you as leaders and spokespeople for the effort will also help."
"Actually," interjected Coulson, "while the Pym's can help, the Director had an alternate suggestion to lead the effort."
Confused, Peter asked, "Is he suggesting S.H.I.E.L.D. lead the initiative? Didn't they try that already with S.W.O.R.D.?" That effort had, for various political reasons, never got off the ground.
Coulson nodded. "There are several reasons why we're a bad fit for that. No, actually Director Fury thought that you two would be ideal candidates to lead." He pointedly looked at both Spider-Man and Arachne as he made the suggestion.
Saurial couldn't help smirking a little at how surprised Peter and his wife were at that. Honestly, she had expected Fury to pull something like that as soon as Peter suggested getting his advice. That expectation had only risen when she had seen who arrived. She didn't necessarily disagree with the spymaster's thinking, but she was curious as to how Coulson would try and sell it. Peter, in particular, would take some convincing.
Peter was shaking his head a little as he said, "Um, I don't exactly have a great track record when it comes to business..."
"Which is why I'm here," replied Coulson. "My job is to help you recruit the necessary trust-worthy support to allow you to focus on innovation and public relations." Fury actually expected Mary Jane Parker to take the lead on PR, as she had the appropriate experience in that area. It was also true, though, that Spider-Man had a massive amount of public good-will to leverage, despite certain missteps like that ill-advised theme restaurant. Parker was also obviously a scientific genius. He had manufactured his own gear for years, including formulating his web fluid, a substance that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best scientist had described as ingenious. His own self-confidence issues and the fact that people like Richards and Stark tended to take the limelight were holding him back, however. Hopefully, this was an opportunity to help correct that. Coulson began a rather convincing explanation to that effect, then waited to see the reaction.
"You want me to hire people? Even if we had the money to do that..." started Peter.
Saurial interrupted. "Actually, if you remember the terms of our short-term contract, Spider-Man, I think you'll realize that you've got ample capital to do what Agent Coulson is suggesting." Even beyond the contract, Saurial was willing to provide additional funding. Matter creation made money a non-issue in almost every situation.
Coulson raised an eyebrow at the term, "short-term contract," but said, "Director Fury was willing to provide money from the S.H.I.E.L.D. budget to get started, but if you've got your own access to capital, then we can focus on helping with the logistics and human resources requirements."
MJ could see that Peter was about to object further, so she said, "Agent Coulson, I think Spider-Man and I need to discuss this matter in private before we give you an answer." She knew Peter's default response would be a negative one, mostly because of his past issues. She also knew that if he thought more before replying, he would realize that a lot of them didn't matter anymore, especially with the Family involved.
"Regardless," added Saurial, "I think your organization's assistance, as well as help from the Pyms, will be extremely valuable in getting a Space Defense Force organized to protect this planet." Sure, Family mathemagic could pretty much duplicate Pym particles, but having locally-grown tech to support the effort would make it that much more sustainable in the long run, and Pym's name was associated with scientific brilliance in this world.
MJ and Peter excused themselves to discuss matters while Saurial spent some time speaking to Henry Pym about his research. The older man was tight-lipped about the details until Saurial started asking some extremely well-informed and pertinent questions about the specifics of Pym's proprietary technology. By the time the Spider couple returned, Pym was having a lively discussion and debate with the lizard woman, much to the amusement of Janet and Agent Coulson.
As Saurial expected, Peter agreed to serve as the lead for the effort after his conversation with MJ. That effort probably needed a PR-friendly name now that the Spider family would be taking charge. Saurial's next step would be to speak with Richards and Doom and clue them into what was happening and why. Doom had alluded to needing help on a personal matter, so maybe that would convince him to play nice with the Parkers.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Yautja hunter stopped the automated sensor scan when the orange light on the console began to blink. The light meant that the navigation computer had enough information to plot a course. A long time ago -- more than fifty years by human reckoning -- one of their species had stumbled upon an area of space-time that had strange properties. If you could find that area (and it had a tendency to drift so that it was never in exactly the same place twice), and you approached it from the proper aspect at the right speed, then you and your ship would end up in new hunting grounds. The worlds through the rift were filled with strange creatures, including some that made the xenomorphs look tame.
Of course, if you approached the rift from the wrong angle or at the wrong speed, then you would either miss it entirely, or your starship would be torn into rather small pieces, which usually didn't end well for the Yautja on board. For that reason, only the bravest, the most skilled, or the most fool-hardy attempted the passage. Of course, all of the clans knew about the passage and how to find it -- keeping the location of hunting grounds secret was a major infraction after the first kill there was made. Any hunter selfish enough to do that would likely end up banished and lose the right to claim his kills.
This particular hunter was skilled, but not so skilled that he was already among the elite. That was mostly because this one was exceedingly cautious -- cautious enough to check for hull damage from a minor collision before trying to pass into a new universe, for example. He was also cautious enough to not challenge existing elites for kills, which was somewhat limiting. While in theory, every hunter had the right to access any hunting grounds, in practice the elites tended to crowd out the less senior hunters from the most desirable locations. The appeal of going to the other hunting grounds for him was that making the passage was easier for somebody of his temperament, while it was much more challenging for his most aggressive and reckless competition. It took a degree of care and patience that wasn't always a hallmark of his species.
The navigation system easily took the hunter's ship through into another reality, one frequented only occasionally by his kind. As the ship passed through the rift, there was a strange twisting sensation in the hunter's gut -- and an identical feeling in the stomach of a certain stow-away stuffed inside an access hatch near the engines. The stow-away could only hope that the feeling meant that they would be landing soon so that he could make his escape.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Spike opened his eyes. He was somewhat surprised at first that he had eyes, given that he remembered being consumed in the flames that closed the Sunnydale hellmouth. His first view was of a ceiling, meaning he was inside, which was good on the off chance that it was daytime. He also noticed immediately that wherever he was located, it was extremely loud. There was a dull, periodic thud, like a heartbeat, covered by the regular sound of rushing air, as though wind were passing through a narrow opening.
It took him more than a few moments to realize that the sound in question was actually a heartbeat, that it was his heartbeat, and that the rushing air sound was his own lungs drawing breath. The idle, crazy thought that it might be better now to give up smoking wandered through the back of his mind.
"Hello, William," said a voice from his left.
He turned his head toward the voice. There was a giant, purple lizard sitting there, regarding him. "Am I dead, then?" he asked, figuring he was staring at a demon.
The lizard smiled, revealing quite a large number of teeth. "You were for quite some time, but not anymore."
He sat up, holding himself up off of what he could now see was a table with a padded top, like one from a doctor's office. "Well, that's good then," he said. He gave a slightly sickly smile. "I guess I'll just be going then!"
"You're welcome to leave. You're not a prisoner," said the lizard. "Wouldn't you like the answers to some obvious questions, first?"
Answers would be nice, of course, but Spike was a bit wary of their source. Demons usually didn't provide information for free, unless it was something the recipient didn't want to hear. "How much, exactly, would those answers cost me?" he asked, tentatively. He didn't even have his clothes with him, being dressed in some kind of earth-toned tunic and pants combination, so money was out of the question. Maybe the nice lizard would let him pay up after he could track down a good game of kitten poker? Other types of tender could be asked, but they were often more dear, or more dire, or both.
The lizard laughed at his question in a way that was surprisingly good-natured. "Free of charge, William...or would you prefer Spike?"
"Either works," he said, slightly non-plussed.
"My name is Ianthe. My friends and I retrieved the amulet you wore in Sunnydale from the Los Angeles office of a law firm named Wolfram and Hart. I believe you're familiar with them?"
"I know them," he agreed. He had even done business with them in the past, though that didn't mean much. Pretty much anybody who was anybody in the supernatural world ended up crossing paths with the firm at one time or another. That was especially true for the darker denizens of that world.
"That amulet used your soul to channel the energy used to close the hellmouth, and it held onto that soul when your physical body was destroyed," continued Ianthe. "Wolfram and Hart retrieved it and was going to use it to manipulate the vampire named Angel as part of a plot to bring about an apocalypse. We stole the amulet from their offices before that could happen."
"Well...thanks for that," he ventured. Wolfram and Hart probably didn't have his best interests at heart, even if he wasn't against messing around with Angel on a regular basis as a matter of principle. "I notice you said my physical body was destroyed, and yet I seem to not only be whole, but also alive again?"
"Among my people, I'm known as a biosculptor. I created a new body that matched your old, and some mystically-inclined friends helped me transfer your soul over from the amulet to your new body," explained Ianthe. The Nox and Doctor Strange had both helped, and both had agreed that keeping the others from Xander's dimension in the dark for a short period of time was probably advisable -- at least until the vampire adjusted to being human again.
Spike wasn't sure how to react. His senses were still adjusting to having a heartbeat and the need to breathe, but now that he thought to check, he couldn't sense his blood demon anymore. That presence had been a constant background noise ever since he won back his soul, but it was now gone. What did that mean for his attempt to find redemption? Could he still hunt demons without his vampiric abilities? There was an annoying little voice in his head that couldn't help but ask how Buffy would feel about him now that he was human again? Of course, there was a more basic question to ask before anything else. "Where exactly are we?"
The lizard smiled again, although there were fewer teeth this time. "That's an interesting question. You're actually on an alien planet more than seven thousand light years from Earth, and that Earth is actually an alternate Earth in another dimension. The planet is called Gaia, and it is the homeworld for a friendly species of aliens called the Nox."
Spike stared at the lizard for a good twenty seconds. "I don't suppose I could bother you for a lift home?"
"Of course. We can take you home. There is one thing to do before we leave, however. The Nox would like to speak with you about your time as a vampire, and I would appreciate it if you could just spend a few hours talking to them as a favor?" asked Ianthe.
Spike regarded the friendly, toothy, scary lizard warily. "Just talking? They're not the kind of aliens who like to probe people?"
Ianthe actually laughed at that. "You're too funny. No, they just want to talk. We can take you back to your Earth, or anywhere else for that matter, once you're done."
Ianthe was being a little disingenuous. The Family had actually asked the Nox to talk to the former vampire, and they assumed that he would want to see Buffy again once he learned she was near...after he had had some time to deal with his issues with the Nox. Buffy would of course have the chance to say no to that, and the rest of the Scoobies would also have to be told. William Pratt, aka William the Bloody, aka Spike, had done terrible things while a vampire, and some of that was confused by him having a soul for a short period toward the end of his unlife. He had also helped save the world more than once, and he had voluntarily fought to get his soul returned to him. He had at least as much claim to some time with the Nox as Anyanka did.
Spike gave Ianthe a small nod. "I guess I can take the time to talk to your friends. Not like I got a pressing engagement or anything." It also wasn't like he could get home without help, if what she was saying was true.
"Good," she said with another smile. At the sound of William's stomach rumbling, she added, "and we should probably stop and get you some food to eat. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at how good it tastes."
Slightly bemused, Spike jumped to his feet off of the bed and said, "Lay on, McDuff. By the way, you wouldn't happen to have my coat around here anywhere, would you?"
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Bishop waited patiently as the skimmer docked at the station. There were still weeks of work to do on the interior, but the station was in orbit of LV-426 and was environmentally sound. Now was the first chance for the beneficiaries of this work to provide input into the station layout, as well as discuss facilities that might be desired on the surface of the planet.
The airlock opened, revealing two men. One was a tall, dark-skinned man with a gold tattoo on his forehead. The second was an older-appearing man dressed in a tweed jacket. Bishop stepped forward. "Doctor Rupert Giles, I presume? And, Teal'c of Chulak? I'm Bishop Draco, CEO of DracoTech Industries...in this reality, at least."
Teal'c acknowledge Bishop's greeting with a nod of his head, while Giles replied, "Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you. Saurial told me quite a lot about what you've been doing back on Earth." The corporation that had employed Ellen Ripley sounded like the worst sort of people.
The former Weyland-Yutani android gave the two gentleman a tour of the sizable space station, explaining in basic terms the various technologies that kept the station operational. He also gave them an overview of which areas were structurally capable of being opened out into larger spaces, versus those which were constrained by various support beams and physical plant. The larger places would be set aside for physical training, while the smaller areas would be living quarters and classes. Laboratories and libraries could be allocated as needed between the two, with the most sensitive areas being well away from the station's entry points.
After the tour of the interior, Bishop took them to look at the drydock facilities built around the edge of the station. Teal'c in particular examined the different means by which repair and maintenance crew could access the exterior of a docked ship, both in atmosphere and out. "Very impressive," admitted the former First Prime. "Repair and refit of Ha'tak on Goa'uld worlds can be much more dangerous and difficult than these facilities would allow." Of course, part of that was because Goa'uld cared little for the health of their Jaffa, assuming that their prim'tas would heal anything that wasn't immediately fatal. The death of human slaves, often used to haul construction materials or work in dangerous or toxic areas, mattered not at all.
"Dragon informed me that after the basic refit work was done by our workers, the Family will be adding certain Asgard technologies that should make this facility truly impressive," added Bishop. Some of them would be overkill for refitting the Goa'uld ships, but were absolutely necessary for a project that Vectura was planning once the station was ready. They were certainly superior to anything Weyland-Yutani had used, and that company had defined the cutting edge until the arrival of the Family.
After the tour was done and both Giles and Teal'c had provided their feedback, Bishop brought up one last point. "Did either of you have any ideas for what you would like to name the station?"
"Ah, yes," replied Giles, absently reaching up to grab his glasses, only to hesitate and put his hand back down once he remembered he was no longer wearing them thanks to Ianthe. "I spoke with the slayers, and they decided on a name...Sineya Station."
"Very well," said Bishop agreeably. "I'll file the necessary paperwork."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Nice of you to show up, Luthor. You've been so pre-occupied with outer space lately, I wasn't sure you still cared about other matters," said the man in the General's uniform.
Lex Luthor favored the man with a cool look. "I assure you, General Lane, that I'm concerned with nothing more or less important than the safety of planet Earth, and by extension, the United States of America."
A heavyset woman fixed the General with a stare. "General, we're all on the same side here. I would appreciate it if we could stay on topic."
He returned her look, but gave her a slight nod. "Very well, Amanda. You're right, as usual. Doctor Paxton, how are the projects going?"
An older, exceedingly thin gentleman in a lab coat was seated at the table with General Lane, Amanda Waller and Lex Luthor. He was holding a digital tablet, though he didn't actually reference it when giving his response. "Projects 113 and 85 are progressing as expected. We have a 43% success rate against Kryptonian opponents in simulations. Project 15 is actually progressing ahead of schedule. The telepathic genes have integrated nicely. Project 44 has been suspended pending review of problems with the third generation strains. The review committee rejected project X-22, and approved further review of X-08 and X-43, to be re-designated Projects 108 and 94, respectively."
"What about Project Tesla?" asked Waller.
"Project Tesla? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one?" said Luthor.
Lane grunted. "It's new. It came up during the last two meetings -- the ones you missed?"
Paxton continued. "Project Tesla is focused on the development of an artificial intelligence to help manage our genetic experimentation. It's being led by Doctors Lee and Kurzov. As for progress, it's actually progressing well ahead of schedule."
Luthor frowned. "I wasn't aware that Cadmus had enough expertise to develop its own artificial intelligence?" More importantly, the organization didn't have the experience necessary to watch for potential risks and problems associated with that field.
"Doctor Lee has, according to his reports, been working on expanding his education in that area," explained Paxton. "He's apparently been working on a Doctorate in the subject for several years. He's also the primary sponsor for the project."
"Wasn't his expertise biomedical engineering and cybernetics?" asked Waller.
Paxton nodded. "Apparently, he's developed a stronger interest in the computing aspects of his field."
Something about that didn't seem correct to Luthor. Maybe he was just being paranoid about Cadmus after second-guessing his own motives? "Can I get a more detailed overview of Tesla?"
Paxton's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'll forward you Dr. Lee's project proposal, along with his status reports. I assure you, Mr. Luthor, that we have everything under control."
"I'm sure you do. Consider it professional curiosity on my part," replied Lex. If things weren't as well-managed as Paxton thought...well, Lex had recently met a group who seemed to have access to some true experts in the science of AI. For that matter, the billionaire wondered what a certain purple reptile might say about Cadmus's other projects.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Varga, in Raptaur's form, was sitting in a winter wonderland. The surrounding forest was filled with giant pines covered in hoar frost. The sky was blue and cloudless, and the air was calm. Harry had explained to Varga how to get here, someplace where their presence would be noticed almost immediately by the mistress of the realm. They could tell immediately when that mistress appeared behind them.
There was silence for an extended second, then a chilled voice asked, "Who are you, and why are you trespassing in my garden?"
"I am Varga, and I come to bargain with Winter," replied the lizard. He turned the Raptaur body to face the speaker. Standing in the clearing was a regal-looking woman with pale skin and a sharp, deadly kind of beauty.
"Normally, those foolish enough to seek a bargain with me simply speak my name thrice to draw my attention," she said evenly.
Varga smiled, showing quite a lot of teeth. "That seems a bit rude."
The edges of Mab's mouth curved upward slightly. "There are compensations."
"I think that in this case, you will find our bargain favors you greatly, and will be of great aid to Winter," said the demon.
Saying that Mab was skeptical would be an understatement. In her vastly long life, the number of beings who had claimed such was great. "For what boon do you seek to bargain?"
Varga sat down on his tail, and replied, "I would like you to remove the Mantle of Winter from the Wizard Harry Dresden."
Suddenly, Mab was standing an arm's length in front of Varga. "You know where Harry Dresden is right now?" Her gaze at Varga's face was intense and disturbingly eager.
Varga gave Mab another smile. "I know exactly where he is, and where he has been. He is both under the protection of my Family and beyond your reach."
Mab's face took on a shadow of anger. "Dresden made a bargain. He took up the role of Winter Knight in return for the aid of Winter, which was provided. What's more...he attempted to circumvent his obligation almost immediately."
"I don't dispute that," agreed Varga. "However, what I offer will more than compensate for your inconvenience for the last few days." While Dresden had been gone for months, it had not been nearly so long from Mab's perspective.
"What could you possibly offer that would be worth setting Dresden free?" asked Mab.
"Two things," said Varga. "The first is specific information about the plans of Nicodemus and the Denarians, including the manner by which he plans to avoid your trap for him."
The Queen of Winter actually looked mildly impressed. "You are well-informed, but that is hardly worth the wizard's freedom by itself." It would, however, be enough to forgive Dresden's attempt to avoid his fate, though she would not tell that to Varga. He probably already surmised as much, as it was not the only thing offered.
"The second item I offer is a replacement for Harry Dresden to take up the Mantle," continued Varga.
Mab actually laughed. "You have a replacement? A replacement for the wizard that destroyed the Red Court? The wizard that beat the Heirs of Kemmler? Harry Dresden, killer of the Lady of Summer? The Warden of the White Council that redeemed the shade of a Fallen Angel? Tell me, then, what kind of man you have that could compare to Dresden as the Winter Knight?"
Varga tilted his head and regarded Mab. "Would you indulge me for a moment? To understand my offer, I need to tell you a bit of a tale."
Mab, still smiling at the absurdity of finding a replacement, nodded her head and settled in to listen.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Harry was helping Karrin put away dishes from dinner. His daughters had volunteered to wash them after Karrin cooked, so it was up to the adults to finish the clean up. Harry had just put the plates back in the upper cabinet when he suddenly collapsed.
"Harry!" cried Karrin, concerned. "What's wrong?"
Harry winced in pain, then held up his hand to stop Karrin. "Hold on! I can feel the symbiote working." After a few moments, Harry pushed himself back up into a sitting position. "Ouch, that was not fun."
"What just happened?" asked Karrin, still concerned.
Harry rubbed his neck. "I think my back just broke, and then got healed by Ianthe's symbiote."
Maggie and Bonnie ran into the kitchen to see why Murphy was yelling. "Dad, what happened?" asked Bonnie.
"He just said his back broke, and then healed," replied Murphy, confused.
Bonnie's face showed a moment of mirrored confusion, but then she began smiling and said, "That's great!" Harry, Karrin and Maggie all turned to look at her with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Seeing their looks, she explained, "No, don't you get it? Dad, you said your back was healed when you became the Winter Knight, right?"
Harry and Karrin seemed to realize what that meant, but Maggie was still confused. "I don't understand...what does that mean?"
Bonnie smiled at her little sister. "It means he's not the Winter Knight anymore, Maggie. Mab set him free!"
