They brought the nine of them to the lab, to perform scans, in case they were ill. Eventually, Dr. Science came out of the infirmary, to where the others were waiting.
"The woman is a mutant. She's tougher and stronger than any human has a reasonable expectation to be," he said. "The young fellow is also a mutant. He can throw explosions from his hands. The big fellow is normal, but from what I saw in the run-up, he can more than take care of himself. The same applies to the man in the mask, but he's built like a gymnast, and he's got a bag of fingerprint powder and a tiny brush, in a pouch on his belt, to go with the rapier, which is honed steel, by the way. The old man, from the papers in his pocket, is Henry Atkins, of His Majesty's Armed Forces. He's a non-commissioned officer, from the stripes on his shoulders, but the others deferred to him. The gun he has is just a modified mortar launcher. The guy in the suit, he's just had a heart attack, and he shows all the signs of suffering from Spanish influenza. Which is impossible," he said, "Spanish influenza was only around near the end of World War I. It's been treated for decades, it's dead, no-one catches Spanish influenza anymore-"
"His gear?" Iron Eagle interrupted.
"Oh. Yeah. The guy in the suit is nothing special, apart from the influenza, but his gloves have sigils embroidered on them. Owl-Man went over the books, he says they're from some Assyrian holy site. He's got enough holy trinkets around his neck to start a small flea market stall. The guy with the spear, he's nothing special, aside from suffering from all the signs of the early stages of cancer, but Owl-Man's going wild over the spear, keeps making phone calls. The guy with the knife, the one they called Zeitgeist, is, I think, composed of energy, focused on the knife. The knife and the man are both saturated with tachyons. The gem on the hilt is identical to the one you found at the Circle of Thorn gig. The others are, best as I can tell, suffering from radiation overdose; that's why they fainted. They should be fine, but we'll have to keep them overnight, just in case."
"And the bystander? The soldier?"
"The soldier? He's basically just some poor sucker in the wrong place in the wrong time. His paperwork shows him to be a Sergeant in the Regular Army of the United States. Date of birth: 8th of May, 1875."
The room went quiet. Everyone look at Dr. Science like he'd grown another head. Everyone went over what he'd just said, and then Iron Eagle spoke, haltingly, disbelievingly.
"I…remember seeing something like that, in a museum in St.-Lo. My grandfather took me there, when I was a kid. A bunch of highly specialist espionage and counterespionage agents, and fair-weather soldiers besides. The British government in 1914 started them, and similar individuals from France and Belgium joined them. Lasted out the war, then died defending the Paris Peace Conference from some nutcase terrorist. They…they…"
"Yes?" Dr. Science said.
"Those people in there… the world, and history, knows them best as a group that called itself Senex Abiecta."
It was a few hours later.
When Dr. Science had heard Iron Eagle's opinion, he had spread the word. The infirmary was hopping. They stayed waiting for the nine to wake for so long, that Iron Eagle insisted that the Remedials go home, and get some rest. They left on sufferance, and only on the promise that they would be called when the patients woke up.
Firewing leaned against the glass. "So how can they be heroes, man?" he said to the Statesman, who was standing next to him. "I mean, the first hero – was you, right?"
Statesman nodded. "That's true, but I wasn't the first fellow to do something like this. Governments and organizations have always employed… individuals with specialized abilities. The English had Sir Francis Drake, during the 1600's. Around the time of these folks, the French government employed an anti-sedition agent with a whip called General Revanche. Besides, this group saved the world when no-one else was around to do so – against mad gods and vampires and that power-mad jerk Doctor Tachyon." Firewing digested this information. Doctor Tachyon was that rarity, a time traveller who could plan ahead. He'd almost taken over the world a few times. patients some breathing room. Most of the crowd had gone off to save the First Paragon Bank from being demolished by the Lost, but what was left was still sizable. And then the patients began waking up. The Statesman was the first to notice it. When the old man's eyes began opening, he ran into the room, stood beside the bed, and said, "Sir? Are you alright? Would you like some breakfast?"
The old man focused, and whispered "Tom? That you? Where am I?"
"You're in Paragon City, sir, in a private hospital. And there's something you should know…"
The old man obviously had trouble processing this. "What? We're in America? But we were in France just a second ago. And I had a strange dream that Paris had changed…"
The man in the next bed stirred. It was the bystander. "What… what happened? Last thing I remember is the fight between those strange men…" His eyes focused on Statesman. "Oh, bully. I've been kidnapped by a circus. This really is the day from – " And then his eyes bulged out of his head. "Mark? Mark, that you in that get-up?"
The Statesman stepped over, shock evident on his face. "Sarge, how are you here? Last anyone heard, you died in an explosion in Paris. Johnny Lamppost said he saw you disappear in a flash of light. There was chunks missing from buildings, dust all over. He said it was a freak accident he survived."
The bystander snorted. "Well obviously he was wrong. And don't go trusting the word of Johnny Lamppost; he's a new fish. I doubt he's even seen an explosion, besides fireworks. Where am I?"
"You're in Paragon City, Sarge, but – "
Ah, the old hometown. Well, this calls for a celebration. You'n'me, kid, we'll paint the town red. Where are my pants?"
"You're going nowhere, mister. Not till your file arrives," Dr. Science said, storming into the room. "I don't care if you do know Statesman, you are not leaving this building before we've seen your file."
"Who? Only one'a you saps I know is Mark here, and – " He turned around, and saw the other patients, who were just waking up. "Holy nuts, it's those guys who were fightin'! Wait'll my Ma hear about this!"
"Yes." The Statesman was clearly uneasy about something. "And that brings us, rather neatly to an important fact that you should all hear before we let you out."