4.1: In which someone mourns, someone is rescued, and someone receives a message
TheWonko
Forgot to set a title
- Location
- Earth
Part 4: Immeasurably More Powerful than Steam
16 March, 2011; Brockton Bay, New Hampshire
Danny Hebert laid in the ruins of his life and mourned.
It had been a long road to this point, several decades of time spent, first unaware of what he was missing, then deliriously happy, then broken but recovering, then ruined beyond repair.
Before Annette he was a normal man, boy really, doing normal things. School, part-time job at the ferry terminal, graduation, college.
Then he met Annette.
His life transformed and everything around him glowed. The two of them were in love. Things only became more joyous after Taylor, their little miracle, was born. Everything was perfect.
Then Annette died.
Danny broke. The light of his life was gone. It was all he could do to keep things together enough that Taylor made it through as well as she had. There were problems, of course, there always are in situations like this, but things could have turned out far worse. Danny and Taylor began drifting apart as time passed, but that was normal when a girl became a teenager, wasn't it? She was still Taylor, still his little miracle.
Then Taylor died too.
Taylor's new friend had told him. She seemed to be taking the news only marginally better than he was. She had told him that Taylor had gotten powers, and that she had died helping stop a supervillain who was going to take over the city. That was small consolation. Slightly better was the news that the supervillain was dead too. Taylor's friend had done it herself after she learned what the man had done to Taylor.
When, a day later, Alexandria herself came to his door with condolences and the official Protectorate line, Danny had been less than diplomatic with her. She said she understood what he was going through. He didn't believe her. The Protectorate left him a cheque "For Expenses", and paid for the funeral, burying his daughter next to his wife.
Now Taylor was with Annette, and Danny wasn't with either of them. Instead he laid on his couch, half asleep, and mourned. His life was in shambles, and nothing short of a miracle could even hope to set it right again.
Something glinted in the corner of Danny's vision and he sat up to face it. Motes of light were dancing near the front door. The light began to gather together, forming a familiar shape.
There was a flash of blue.
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16 March, 2011; Boston, Massachusetts
It took long enough, but the guy finally twigged to a solution. Amanda's power only worked on things that had attention, and Accord had finally figured out that a fully automated system, with absolutely no input from anything with a mind the entire way, would work against her. It had probably only taken as long as it had because Accord would have wanted to personally design the system to cover every possible contingency, and that sort of thing takes time, even with powers.
Amanda was now in a room closed off by a heavy door that she couldn't lift or break, and a series of nozzles currently spraying some sort of gas into the room with her. Whatever it was, it was making her feel tired and see strange flashes of light. Amanda knew things wouldn't turn out well for her if she fell asleep, but it seemed she had little choice in the matter. She slumped down to the ground and closed her eyes.
When she woke up again, she was on a bench. She recognised Faneuil Hall across the street. How had she gotten here?
"You were right, by the way," said someone behind her, "These are really good."
A wrapped package, which smelled delicious, was held in front of her and Amanda took and opened it on reflex. Inside was some flatbread stuffed full to bursting with meat, veggies, and sauce. She took a bite. It tasted as good as it smelled.
"The cart was covered in comic books though, not playbills," continued whoever had given Amanda this treasure as they sat beside her, "And the sign said they only sold hot dogs."
"Yeah, that's Keith's place alright. Glad you found it." Amanda turned to look at her benefactor, and almost dropped her food in surprise. "Now, I don't mean to be rude," she said, trying to find the right words, "But you've been dead for, like, a month and a half. How'd you get around that?"
Taylor Hebert grinned at her friend. "Magic."
"Alright, I probably deserved that," Amanda chuckled, "But seriously, how'd you do it?"
"It's complicated, but technically I never actually died? There was a parallel universe involved."
"So what, you're the evil twin then? Where's your goatee?"
Taylor shook her head. "No goatee, just a badly burned hand. I was hoping you could teach me how to do the healing trick you used on your head wound?"
"Ah, so that's why you saved me," Amanda said jokingly.
"Rule two, Amanda. You needed help, I helped."
"That's great and all, but I still owe you one."
"Well that makes things easier then," said Taylor as she rubbed her hands together awkwardly, "I need you to put the call out for some girls who want to help with a project of mine."
"Oh, what's the project?"
"Nothing much. We're just going to save the world."
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17 March, 2011; Cauldron Headquarters, Earth Σ-17
Well, thought Eidolon, he hardly ever thought of himself as David anymore, that's another week's meeting done. He understood the necessity of keeping all of Cauldron's high-end members operating on the same page, but he didn't know why Doctor Mother and The Number Man had to make it so boring. Alexandria hadn't even bothered to show up to this meeting, and Eidolon couldn't find it in himself to blame her.
He was about to call for Doormaker to give him a portal back to Houston when, speak of the devil, Alexandria, or rather, dressed like that, Chief Director Costa-Brown, came into the conference room.
"Apologies for my delay," she said, "There was a break-in at my PRT office and I've spent the better part of the day in Master/Stranger lockdown."
"What happened?" asked Legend, "Did they take anything? Do we have any idea who it was?"
"That's the thing. As far as anyone can tell they didn't take anything."
"Then what did they leave?" asked Doctor Mother.
Alexandria tossed an evidence bag onto the large conference table as she sat heavily in one of the chairs surrounding it. "Just these. I want to see what you make of them."
Legend picked up the bag and looked at its contents. "An Alexandria action figure and a note?"
"The obvious conclusion is that whoever is responsible for the break-in knows of your double identity," said The Number Man.
"More than that," said Alexandria, "Read the note."
Legend unfolded the note in the bag. "'O well done! I commend your pains/And every one shall share i' the gains.' Is that Shakespeare?"
"Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I. More concerning is the next line in the play 'And now about the cauldron sing'."
"So our interloper not only knows about you," said Doctor Mother, "But also us and our goals."
"And they're broadly sympathetic to them too," said Alexandria, "Otherwise they would have used a different quote. Something more antagonistic."
"How do you mean?" asked Eidolon.
"Act IV, Scene I is the scene where Macbeth is foretold his doom. He's given three warnings, but in his hubris, he misinterprets the warnings as guarantees of his success."
"So whoever this is is giving us a warning then? Do we have any idea who they are?"
"I have one, yes, but you won't like it."
"Some idea is better than none at all," said Doctor Mother.
"In the play, the character who says the line on our note is Hecate, the Greek goddess of magic and ghosts."
The Number Man sighed, "So you think our friendly warning comes from a Case 32."
"I know you don't hold with the claims of their power source--"
"What I don't hold with," said The Number Man, maybe a bit louder than he had intended, "is baseless fantasy from hearsay and eyewitnesses in shock or hopped up on painkillers. If they really were 'magic', then surely we'd have found some evidence by now besides old bedtime stories and the occasional pubescent girl who disappears after a month!"
"Enough," said Doctor Mother quietly, "Regardless of the veracity of any Case 32 accounts, whoever left the note obviously knows quite a bit more than they should. It's not impossible that they know about the Case 32 claims and are trying to play into the mystique."
"So what do you suggest we do?"
"There was more to the note," said Alexandria, "On the back side is a time two days from now, and a set of coordinates."
"Contessa," said Doctor Mother, "Can we get a path to bringing our correspondent into custody?"
The Thinker frowned for a moment and rubbed her forehead. "Any plan I make becomes… desaturated and hazy any time I reach a step that involves anything potentially hostile. The path is still there, but it's difficult to see. As if a light is shining in my eyes. I wouldn't be able to guarantee success."
"I don't like this," said Eidolon, "Whoever this is is a powerful enough Stranger to get in and out of one of the most secure locations on Bet, and a powerful enough Thinker or Trump to block a path."
"If Rebecca is right," said Legend, "Then we've been offered a warning and a meeting with someone with a lot of information. Maybe even more than we have." He looked around the table. "I think we should learn from Macbeth; we should set aside our hubris and be willing to listen."
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