March 7, Angel Park, Meridiana. 12:20 PM

"Hello Tony. What are you up to?" Adrian sat down beside his teaching colleague, friend,
and sometime confidant, and unwrapped his ham-and-cheese sandwich before Dr. Zack could
respond.
"Hang on a second, Adrian. This... yollop managed to make several serious errors in this
article, and I'm going to rectify them before some moronic bureaucrat authorizes a project to find
another non-existent particle." Dr. Zack sighed in irritation as he muttered under his breath, furiously
scribbling down notes into the margin of the magazine he had bought. After almost five minutes of
grumbling, Dr. Zack finally put down his pencil and looked at Adrian.
"So, now that I've deflated this one's ego, what's up?"
Adrian polished off the last few crumbs of his sandwich, then smiled. "First, would you like
me to get another M-80 for you? I think you just kicked over an anthill with this response." Adrian
deadpanned, and waited for a few seconds for his statement to sink in. Dr. Zack chuckled lightly for
a few seconds, and wagged his finger at his friend.
"My dear friend, that's just too funny. Were you the one who convinced those students to
draw that caricature?" Adrian smiled, but shook his head. They were both referring to a picture that
had been given to Dr. Zack last year by some of his more talented students. The students had
portrayed him as a Groucho Marx-esque character, dropping a lit firecracker down the pants of a
scientist with a massively swollen head.
"No, I didn't sic the students on you. By the way, what did you do to it?"
"I framed it. It's right next to the picture of my erstwhile relative with a Christmas ornament
hanging off his snoot." Adrian passed a hand over his face, trying to keep from breaking out in
laughter.
"Really. I still wonder how you managed to get a picture of him in his cups like that."
"I have my friends in his camp." Dr. Zack smiled mysteriously, and was lightly punched in
the shoulder.
"You convinced Mel to take that picture, didn't you? Sometimes I think you're insane."
Dr. Zack chuckled as he remembered how he had convinced Mel to take that picture, but
soon turned his attention back to Adrian. "Well, back to the matter at hand. What brings you to me
today? Is Lucas sick?"
Adrian blushed, and Dr. Zack smoothed his mustache to hide his smile. In response, Adrian
passed the older man a newspaper clipping and managed to compose himself before Dr. Zack
finished looking up from reading the short article.
"Hmmph. Well, it looks like the paranoid members of the city council have called in all their
favours this time. Apparently, they have hired an elite counter-operations team to assist with keeping
the city 'clear of all paranormal activities, allowing the kind citizens of the city to live their lives in
peace.' This may be a problem, especially if Jose gets his hands on this information."
"Really. Well, considering that the mayor of the city is going to be greeting the commander
of the team tomorrow at city hall, I think we should go there and make sure that nothing untoward
happens."
Dr. Zack tugged on his moustache for a few seconds, obviously thinking about the possible
outcomes of such an idea. Eventually he shrugged, and turned back to Adrian. "Well, I don't see any
reason not to. I'll see you at city hall tomorrow. Actually, I think it's about time for those idiots in
city hall to do something." With that, Dr. Zack stood up, collected his magazine, pencil, and the
newspaper clipping, and walked away.
"Thanks Tony." Adrian closed his eyes for a second, taking off his glasses so he could rub
his eyes when he heard a light thump beside him. Opening his eyes, he saw one of his students sitting
beside him, looking like she owned the bench. "Hello Mikae. How are you this weekend?"
"Wishing you didn't give us so much homework. I mean, why'd you make us read two
chapters of the Canterbury Tales for Monday? Even Dr. Zack isn't that stringent." Mikae pushed
some bangs out of her eyes as she spoke, sweeping her pageboy-style haircut back behind her ears.
Adrian smiled slightly. "Well, when I have to forcibly embed the love of literature into your thick
skull, I could do worse. After all, the five-thousand word essay is going to be in the final exam this
year."
Mikae shook her head, obscuring her ice-blue eyes behind a screen of hair. Irritated, she
swept the hair back into place, and turned to her teacher, leaning in towards him slightly. "I read that
article in the paper this morning, and I really think that the shit's gonna hit the fan tomorrow."
"I would put it in slightly less offensive terms, but yes, that's probably going to happen. So,
anything else?" Adrian looked around for a few seconds, but saw nothing that could produce a
mental red flag.
"Well, I think that this little incident will drop the population of big, green, and ugly going
about the city, but then our supplies may dry up. And we both know that if that happens, we're up
the creek without a paddle." Adrian nodded his understanding of the situation, but didn't show any
facial reaction to the pronouncement. "Anyhow, I'd like to meet these grunts, especially as they're
cutting into our turf."
"'Our' turf, Mikae? Since when have you even decided on a regular area? Usually, you're
two rooftops behind. Besides, we have a regular supply, despite the fact that it tastes... off." Mikae
chuckled, nodded, and stood up, stretching her arms behind her back as she did so. Her shirt had
ridden up one arm, however, revealing a black tattoo emblazoned on the inside of her forearm. The
visible part of the tattoo, saying X-1, was meaningless to all but three people, and two of them were
sitting in the park at that moment.
"Fine. Look, I'm going to that speech tomorrow, but I bet that the team's already here, just
waiting for something to pop up so they can shred it."
"You're probably right Mikae. Well, I'm off. I have to finish marking your essays from
Thursday." Adrian also stood up, gathering up the few scraps from his lunch, which were promptly
thrown into a nearby garbage can.
"How'd I do on the essay? I'm never any good at writing..." Mikae gazed at Adrian like a
kicked puppy, then smiled lightly.
"Well, you didn't fail miserably. However, I couldn't read half of what you wrote. Work on
that." With that cryptic statement floating in the air, Adrian walked away, heading towards his
apartment. Mikae stared at his back for a few seconds, then kicked a pebble into a tree.
"You could have at least told me my mark, you fossil." Mikae growled quietly, then she
walked away, kicking several more pebbles down the path.

Imperial Hotel, 6:27 PM

"Well, we're here." Wilson eased his tank-like bulk out of the armoured car, and looked up
at the crumbling facade of the century-old hotel. He dimly heard the nineteen other members of the
team clamber out of their cars, but caught the jokes being fired at him by his friends.
"Hey Wilson, this place is rattier than your own house. By the way, how could you live in
something where the roaches out-mass you?"
Wilson grinned as he picked up his duffel bag from the trunk. "Trade secret. By the way, are
you sure you left enough room in your weight allowance for your equipment? After all, the last time
something like this happened, I had to lend you my rifle for a week, mainly because you put too
many of those god-awful body lotions in there."
The person being ribbed, a short woman with blonde hair, responded with an eloquently
raised middle finger and a simple "Fuck you."
"Sorry Jenny, but if you haven't noticed, that's the only thing you did on the flight here."
Wilson chuckled, then ducked a well-aimed slap. "Geez! I only told the truth!" Jenny didn't let up
however, and Wilson had to stop her by grabbing onto her wrists while stepping on her feet at the
same time.
"Hey! Let go of me you oversized gorilla!" Jenny raged at Wilson for a few more minutes,
to the immense amusement of the rest of the team, but she finally calmed down. "Well, I'll get you
back later."
"Yeah, Jenny, when pigs grow wings. Look, let's get our rooms and put some of the excess
stuff away." With that, Wilson picked up the duffel from where he had dropped it, and walked into
the run-down hotel, with the rest of his team straggling in behind him.

Jose's Mansion, 7:30 PM

Jose was pissed. His favourite dog had just died, after a Fixed Idea had mistaken it for a dirty
rug and tossed it into the washing machine, and to add insult to injury, Cybersix had walked into the
place, waved at him, and killed two more Ideas.
"Okay, what's going to go wrong now? First my dog gets killed by one of these boneheads,
then that bitch waltzes in and lays the smackdown on two of my guards. Remind me to eviscerate
that little whore as soon as I get my hands on her." Two technos were cowering in the room that Jose
had recently trashed, and a FI maid was cleaning up the shards of glass that were the side-effect of
the smashed TV spitting sparks.
"Um, sir? About your experiment on cybernetically enhanced Fixed Ideas? The surgically
implanted armour plating was a success, but the enhanced reflex neurotransmitters were rejected."
A third techno, wearing a bloody lab coat, had entered the room, and fired off the mixed news to his
stunted boss.
Jose stopped in mid-tantrum, swivelled around to the techno so quickly he nearly fell over,
and stormed up to the lanky being. Looking up past the techno's beltline, Jose snarled lightly and
mashed the techno's hand. Ignoring the yipping screams, Jose proceeded to vigorously shake the
techno's hand, allowing the poor creation's bones to be mashed into something with the average
consistency of glue.
"Good for you! Now, tell me why this has any use to me, or I'll crush your other hand." Jose
paused for a second, but the techno was too busy weeping over his crushed hand. "Forget it. I know
what that armour will do. I'm actually pretty pleased about the idea of avoiding any more losses
through friendly fire."
The techno slowly stood up after Jose released his hand, and asked quietly if he could go to
the infirmary and get a cast put on his hand. Jose nodded, then walked into the experiment room
where three extremely large Fixed Ideas were strapped to heavy steel tables. All three appeared to
have thickened muscles, but the muscles were actually half-inch thick, flexible durallex alloy meshes
that had been implanted just under the skin.
"Good. I wonder how well these things will fare against our little miscreants." Jose started
to laugh maniacally, sounding almost exactly like his late, unlamented father.

Oroborus, Near Ottawa. 8:20 PM

"Good night Grandma!" The chorus of young voices followed the matronly woman as she
closed the door, soon replaced by excited whisperings and giggles inside the room. Eventually they
fell silent, and the sounds of children sleeping filled the air. The matronly woman, still tall in spite
of her advanced age, walked slowly into the living room/rec room and leaned over the back of a
couch to kiss her husband on the cheek.
"So, how are the little angels?" The old man groaned as he heaved himself into an upright
position, then walked around and embraced his wife of fifty years. "God, sometimes I think those
angels wait until I'm around before they break something that only 'Grandpa John' can fix. Today
they broke three wagons, a scooter, and my favourite fishing rod."
John grumbled for a few seconds, then ran his hands through his thinning hair. His wife
chuckled and snuggled closer to him. "Well, you probably fixed the wagons, scooter, and rod in less
than twenty minutes each. That's why everyone likes you."
"Well, my dear Gudrun, why do you think I married you? Not for just being a housewife after
all. I've seen you fix your share of mechanical objects in your day. Besides, you're the peacemaker
here. I couldn't keep the peace here if my life depended on it." Gudrun squeezed slightly, giving
John the excuse to gently poke her sides.
"You be careful, otherwise there might just be a war going on here. Besides, I'm still in shock
over the news Wilson brought us about Selina." John frowned, creasing his forehead into a forest
of wrinkles before responding. "I'm worried about her too, but don't forget that Sorbie is doing his
utmost to keep her in one piece. Besides, she went into her first operations willingly in order to walk,
and afterwards, she decided to go into that company to keep away from her father and brother."
"Don't remind me of that! I still can't believe that her own father and brother decided to have
'fun' with her when she was five." Gudrun's face darkened like a thundercloud about to burst, but
John gently tilted her chin upwards so he could look into her eyes.
"Look, no matter what, we'll always be here for our granddaughter. After all, her own
daughter is sound asleep with the other six-year olds. You should've seen her when Wilson walked
in." John chuckled, his deep voice rolling down an octave as he did so. "She was beside herself with
joy, and that's a difficult feat. I still think she got a handful of honey in his beard though."
Gudrun giggled at the memory of Wilson's visit less than a week ago, and sighed
contentedly. "Now I remember the reason why we turned this place into an orphanage after Alex
moved out. Now, is figure skating on TV tonight, or is hockey?"
"It's a Saturday, my dear. That means hockey." John and Gudrun proceeded to curl up on the
couch like they were thirty years younger and started to watch the game in progress.