CHAPTER FIVE: THE BRIEFING
The hovercar flew fast and steady, barely floating above the gentle curves of the sand dunes. Night had fallen a long while agoandas Mirage looked up, she could now see stars shine in the crisp air. Lost in her thoughts, she had not spoken in a while. She looked from time to time at the Lieutenant who kept focused on the horizon, his face illuminated by the faint glow of the controls.
"We should be arriving at dawn," the Lieutenant said. "Pretty soon." He looked at her. "Look," he added, "I'm sorry about all this. I can understand you would not want to be dragged into this sort of nastiness. Believe me; none of us would want to. But this is where we stand, Mirage. We're holding on to the very short end of a long stick."
"And you're hoping to get a better grip with me in the picture?" Mirage answered, "I'm sorry if I sound sceptical…" She frowned at him. "I just don't like being used, that's all," she said, crossing her arms.
They were silent again. The Lieutenant had sensed Mirage's frustration, for he had noticed that every time he looked at her, she would turn her head away.
Time had gone byA barely audible beep caught the Lieutenant's attention. "The proximity beacon has picked us up," he said, pointing his finger to the navigation screen to show to Mirage. "We'll be there in a few moments."
Miragebecame interested again in the nature of their destination. "Lieutenant Thompson," she asked him, "we've been flying for quite a while now. I've been trying to get a bearing on where we are, but I'm lost. But I'm sure of one thing, this isn't Europe anymore. Or," she sounded hesitant, "did the climate change that drastically?"
"We're on the Australian continent, Mirage. And you're right about the climate," the Lieutenant answered. "Global warming made the Australian desert spread to every piece of land of the continent that the rising ocean had not covered, and turned them into a dry, barren wasteland. This is where we are now:" He waved his hand. "There is nothing around us, for thousands of square kilometres."
"The twenty-first century was a turning point," the Lieutenant added. "By the end of it, the world still hadn't got rid of its dependency on oil. The issue of global warming, even though its effects were undeniable, proven decades earlier in the twentieth century, was continuously pushed aside to put immediate economic interests first." The Lieutenant shook his head. "Promises, promises. They told everyone they were working hard to correct the problem. They sold the hope of a better, happier, cleaner future. And people bought it." He looked at her. "All political lies, Mirage, where money was more powerful than logic." Mirage saw the Lieutenant's hands clenching the control wheel harder. "And then, the wars came…" he said in a quiet voice. "There were just simply too many people around. "China and the United States went nuclear in august of twenty-two thirty-four, over one of the few tiny areas that still had oil outside of the Middle East. We're centuries later now and we're still recovering from that disaster."
"And the Supers?" Mirage asked him. "You told me they are hiding in the desert? Aren't they more exposed instead? There are probably satellites everywhere."
"Yes there are," the Lieutenant said. "But we manage to fool them in many ways… Cloaking devices, emitters that jam their sensors by sending false negative readings, you name it... Our group is invisible right now, but we're always on the move. Ishtaar, by the way, is just a nickname for our present location, it's an abandoned city built around an ancient refinery." The Lieutenant smiled. "Our enemies never come this way, as their sensors detect lethal levels of radiation." Mirage looked at him, alarmed. "Oh, don't worry, it's safe," he added. "There is barely any radiation, well, not more than anywhere else, and barely more than there was in the twentieth century. We're fooling their sensors. This is part of our cloaking strategy:We hide in plain sight, Mirage. Sometimes it's the best way to go." The Lieutenant smiled at her. "And judging by your record, you seem to know what I'm talking about."
The hovercar started decelerating. "We're here. Look ahead," he said. Mirage squinted as her eyes focused on the horizon.
Something up ahead, still a few kilometres away, seemed to spread before them like an endless wall. As they came closer, Mirage could now distinguish that the structure she had seen was actually a maze of rusted and decrepit steel conduits of all shapes and sizes, that ran from huge reservoirs linked to massive distillation towers. Some of them had fallen to the ground, crushing everything in their path. The refinery they flew towards looked as it had been abandoned centuries earlier. There was no one there to be seen.
"There it is, Ishtaar," the Lieutenant said. "It's an old twenty-third century heavy oil processing terminal. It's been abandoned ages ago. Ishtaar is just a take on an ancient Babylonian city whose name meant fertility and rebirth. We found that appropriate for our cause. We've been here for a year now. We just can't tell how long we'll be able to stay there though. It's just a question of time before they find us."
At first glance, the untrained eye would see the refinery deserted. But if one had a closer look, one would find it was not the case. For, from the top of one of the tallest structures still standing, someone had spotted the incoming hovercar.
A young boy cheered as through his binoculars, he saw the flying car approach in the distance. Leaning over the corroded edge of the guardrail of the cooling tower he stood upon, he yelled to catch someone's attention, who was waiting below.
"It's Jack!" he said, elated. "He made it!"
"Is he alone? Let me see," the person on the ground said. "Wait, "I'm coming up." It was a young girl who had said that. She was dressed in a fitting Super suit. Looking up, she bent her knees slightly and gave herself a small push.She then lifted off the ground gently, flying silently and gracefully,to reach the top of the tower and land beside the boy.
"Give me the binoculars," she asked him. As he did so, she focused her gaze on the horizon, stopping on a cloud of dust. She could see the chrome parts of the hovercar reflecting the sun light. "Yep, it's him all right," she said. She now turned her attention towards the passenger. "And yes, he's got her and…" She put down the binoculars as she frowned. "Yes, she is pretty... Very pretty indeed... Just as I expected," she added very dryly.
"I'll go warn the others," the boy said. But before the girl could say anything, his body became transparent and in a flash, it liquefied into a puddle of water that drained through the steel bars of the balcony. The liquid dripped to the ground. And as fast as he had transformed, the boy returned to his human shape. He smiled at the girl before dashing away.
The boy had reached what appeared to be a large pile of rubbish, made of rusted steel pipes, bent plates and worn out truck tires covered by desert sand. He waved his hand in front of one of the largest pieces of steel. It swung open, revealing a dimly lit passageway with steps going underground in a steep angle. He went inside immediately, the steel door swinging back to close behind him.
The stairs led to a long corridor. At the end of it, a heavy reinforced metal hatch was closed. Beside it, a small red light shined above a touch pad that had the shape of a hand drawn on it. The boy put his hand on the plate. The light turned green, and the door immediately slid open.
The boy walked into what appeared to be a command center that was shrouded in darkness. A faint bluish light revealed a few people sitting here and there, facing control panels with old, worn out buttons and small screens covered in dust that seemed to have had better days. The personnel in the room had a weary look on their face as they looked exhausted and beaten.
"General Vanderbeekien," the boy said, quickly and somewhat sloppily saluting the middle aged man he had addressed, "Lieutenant Thompson is back from the mission. He was successful, Sir. He's got her. They should be arriving in the compound this very minute."
"Great news," the General said. "Have them come here as soon as they arrive. We'll move on to the next phase of the mission."
The hovercar had reached the outer limits of the refinery. Slowing down but still going on fast, the Lieutenant expertly piloted the craft through a small opening, barely visible between a broken pipe and the remnants of a fallen tower. Flying inside for a few hundred meters, the hovercar then came to a halt in the middle of a small clearing.
"We're here," the Lieutenant said, shutting down the engine. "Welcome to Ishtaar," he said, waving his hand around. Mirage looked around her. She took a deep breath as she got out of the vehicle. The sand under her bare feet was burning already, even though the sun had barely risen. The Lieutenant had also gotten out. "You're going to meet the others soon."
Mirage stepped slowly away from the hovercar, looking around, intrigued by her surroundings. She had not walked a few metres that to her surprise, someone had flown out of nowhere to land directly in front of her, blocking her path.
It was the young girl who had witnessed their arrival. She did not look pleased in meeting Mirage, as she stared at her in a most aggressive way.
Mirage backed up instinctively as she saw her. The girl in front of her had all the characteristics of a Super: She had dark brown hair tied up in a pony tail, long and straight, that flowed over her strong shoulders that were visible through her pale coloured Super suit. She did not say anything.
"Stupendous Girl, how nice to see you," the Lieutenant said, as he addressed the mysterious person.
"Hey Jack," the girl said, walking up to him casually. "I'm glad to see you've made it." She quickly glanced at Mirage. "Nice catch. You were really successful, as I can see..." The lieutenant frowned as he looked at her sideways but did not have time to say anything as the girl cut him off: "The General wants to see you. We have to move on," she said. "The mission can't wait." And upon saying this to him, she kicked her heels and silently flew away. Mirage felt uncomfortable as she looked at the Lieutenant.
"I am so thrilled Lieutenant... The future seems so… intriguing. I can't wait to see more of it," Mirage said, in a very sarcastic tone. "Are all surviving Supers this hostile?"
The Lieutenant was about to answer her when he was interrupted. The young boy had rushed out to him.
"The General wants to see you both. Come, quick! We don't have much time, come on!"
They had reached the command center within a minute. As Mirage looked around her, she saw the other Supers in the room silently staring at her. Their Super suits appeared faded in the dim light. As he saw Mirage and the Lieutenant arrive, the General walked over to them.
"Miss Moresso, I'm so glad to see you unharmed," the General said as he held out his hand. "Welcome to our command center." He glanced at the Supers around him. "I would like to present you to the rest of our team a little bit later, if you don't mind. But I'm sure you already know who Lieutenant Thompson is by now. He is one of our best pilots."
The Lieutenant rubbed his temple as he remembered the gun pointed at it. "Yes, we've been introduced," he said. He looked at slightly annoyed with Mirage. "She was very happy to meet me. Just thrilled…"
A grave look had passed on the General's face. "Miss Moresso," he said in a quiet voice, "we do not have much time. Our situation is critical. Our resources are dwindling. We've been on the run too many times now."
He walked over to a flat table. A holographic display lit up over it, displaying a planet. Mirage could see it was the Earth, but climate changes brought on by human activity had drastically changed the visible coast line of all its continents. North America was barely recognizable as the ocean's water had risen.
Mirage now focused on the few faint red dots that were flashing here and there. "Those are markers telling known positions of other groups of Supers around the world," the General said. "As you can see, there are very few."
Suddenly, everyone in the room became gloomy. For just as the General had finished his sentenceone of the red lights blinked for a few seconds and then vanished.
"They fell," the Lieutenant said. No one spoke for a moment.
Mirage felt the blood in her veins become cold as she saw that. She looked at the Supers around her. "I'm here for a reason," she said. "I know Zordel wants something from me, and I know you do too." She walked over to the General. "As far as I'm concerned, this is still my future. If I can change it in any way, please, let me know. Tell me what I can do."
The General nodded. "We knew we could count on you." He turned around, to address someone that stood behind him, who wore an old laboratory coat. "Doctor Arliss, I think you would be more suited than me to tell our new arrival about our plans."
"Of course General, I would be glad to," the Doctor said, as he approached Mirage. He looked tense as he scrutinized her, his face having an expression of disbelief. He paused for a second, searching his thoughts. "Time travel," he finally said, "is such an incredible thing." He took one step closer to Mirage. "It's not everyday that you get to meet the daughter of the man who has destroyed the world…"
Mirage was mortified. "Doctor Arilss, please, I understand you frustration," the General said as he cut in. "This is not the time for the airing of grievances."
The Doctor bowed his head. "Yes, you are right." He took a deep breath. "Miss Moresso, as you now understand, you've been taken into our era because of your very unique situation. Like I have just said, you are the daughter of a most important man to us. Let me explain, so please, look at the next hologram."
The holographic globe vanished, to be replaced by the image of a strand of a DNA molecule. "Your father made incredible breakthroughs in sub atomic particle research," the Doctor added, as he pointed out to an area of the giant molecule. "The core of his research made possible the discovery ofthe elements that differentiates Supers form ordinary humans."
The Doctor looked at her. "It's all Genetics, Mirage. It all boils down to that. A Super is essentially just a special type of mutant, that's the easiest way to put it.
The Doctor went on "So, as our knowledge of science evolved though the centuries, so did our knowledge of Genetic engineering. We learned by leaps and bounds, able to cure almost every disease." The Doctor became sombre. "And we could also do more... As the Supers became Illegal in your time, the situation for them degraded through the years to become what it is now."
"Yes, I've noticed the government is not very keen on Supers," Mirage said. "But to hunt them down… This is madness."
"There is more," the Doctor said. "The government is responsible for one of the biggest lies in the history of our planet. In its efforts in trying to eradicate Supers, they developed a weapon. A special type of bomb, as we may call it that, a Genetic Bomb."
He sadly looked at Mirage. "We have reason to believe it has been designed by your father."
Mirage's face turned white. The Doctor went on. "They set off the device about thirty years ago. Its detonation generated a force field strong enough to spread over all the surface of the earth. That force field was designed for one purpose: to target the unique genetic patterns found in Super DNA. If they were found, the force field would basically rip the patterns apart, instantly killing the helpless person." The Doctor lifted a finger as to make point. "That was the intended plan, Mirage. But something went wrong. Terribly wrong. The detonation of the device did not go on as planned. Something was miscalculated... And instead of killing all Supers, those who were exposed to the rays were left with only a fraction of their original powers."
Mirage looked at the Supers around her. "For instance," the Doctor added, "Jack normally would have had been able to fly... But he is only left with the ability to create bolts of electricity and Zero Point force fields."
"Most of us were never exposed to the rays, Mirage. Our parents were. We've inherited their weakened genes," the Lieutenant said. "The government became desperate to hide the fact that they failed miserably in their attempt of getting rid of the Supers. They did not want to lose credibility, so they decided to spin the truth by telling the public that the Supers had detonated the bomb, with the intention of taking over the world by altering the ordinary human's genetic makeup, to render them totally helpless."
"I think I'm starting to understand where I come in," Mirage said.
The Doctor nodded. "There is another device Mirage," he said to her. "It is hidden, deep inside the vaults of the Department of Information. And Zordel wants to detonate it. He is a Super, Mirage. Very few people know this. By manipulating the bomb's mechanism, Zordel would eradicate all Supers. All of them, but not him... In fact, he would want it to have the opposite effect on himself. It would make him all-powerful. It would then become a question of time before he seized power. He would reveal himself to the world as an omnipotent Super, and the Government would simply have to comply with his every whim."
"And this is where you come in," the Lieutenant said. "The code that Zordel wanted is necessary for his plan to be carried out. And we know your father did not give it to him."
"And that is what you are going to do, Mirage," the General said. "With our help, you will find the missing code. We will then infiltrate the fortress where the weapon is located, find it, reprogram the genetic process and detonate it."
"Hoping to set things straight again, giving all Supers their powers back," Mirage said. She couldn't help thinking about her father again. Zordel never told her he had collaborated with him on such a device. With the truth still obscured, she wondered even more what had happened to him.
Mirage did not want to believe what she had just heard. "Did my father actually build this weapon himself?When could he have done such a thing?"
"Mirage," the Lieutenant put his hand on her shoulder. "We have reason to believe that your father was brought to this era by Zordel himself."
"He's alive then?" Mirage asked him, unconsciously hoping for the affirmative.
"We don't know," the Doctor said. "But everything points towards him having an implication in the construction of the device."
Mirage became sombre. "I know nothing of my father's work," she said. She looked at the General. "Zordel was trying to extirpate whatever secret he thought I held back, when Lieutenant Thompson came in and rescued me." She held out her hand. "I forgot to say thank you by the way, Lieutenant."
"Please, call me Jack," he said, as he shook it. Mirage smiled faintly.
"We know you do not possess the key we're looking for, Mirage," the General said. "But we know you can help us find it. We have reason to believe it is somewhere, hidden in your father's home laboratory. In your childhood house." He paused. "In your past, Mirage."
Upon seeing Mirage's expression of incredulity, the Doctor cut in. "Time, Mirage, is very flexible," he said. "It has elasticity, similar to a rubber band. It can take a certain amount of strain and still retain its shape. But, pull too hard, and it will break. So, there are certain things we can do when going into the past that will not affect the space-time continuum. For instance, walking in a field of daisies and crushing a few flowers as you crossed it, would not be an event that could upset the equilibrium." The Doctor looked at her. "But doing something as drastic as killing your own father would have implications beyond the scope of our imagination."
"This is the mission. We are going to send you back in time and space," the General said. "Back to the time of your childhood. You will find your father's study, and gather the necessary information and bring it back." The General felt sorry for Mirage, as she stood there, shocked by the idea that she would relive emotions that had now faded into distant souvenirs. "You have to understand, you're the only one who can find the key. Only by going back, will you be able to pick through every possible clue. Only you will be able to tell if something there is meaningful."
Mirage did not speak. "Of course, as this is a very delicate mission, you will not be going at it alone," the General added. "The Lieutenant will accompany you on your journey. He is our best pilot, and since our resources are limited, only two of you will be able to go."
"I'm very used to working alone," Mirage said, looking sideways at the Lieutenant. "Why would I need a pilot? I am one myself. Certified Class seven. I'm qualified to fly anything up to the size of a jumbo jet. No offence intended, Jack."
The Lieutenant smiled. "What is it with women and flying planes?" He asked. "The time machine is not on Earth, Mirage. That's the catch. It's located on a small planet on the outskirts of the galaxy. It's six hundred and fifty light years away for here. You'll obviously need some assistance to get there."
"A time machine consumes an incredible amount of energy, Mirage," the Doctor said. "It would have been impossible for us to operate it on earth without being discovered. Our machine lies near the equator of a small Class M planet on the outer edge of the galaxy. The Lieutenant is an expert in the field of interstellar navigation, he will get you there safely."
Mirage had forgotten for a second that the universe around her was totally different than her own. She had dreamed many times about the possibilities of space travel. She had never thought they would materialize, and if they did, never in such a way.
"We have to prepare for the trip," Jack said. He looked at the translucent dress Mirage wore. "I think you could appreciate a change of wardrobe. Something more fitting for a Super…"
The General agreed. "Yes Lieutenant. It's time to prepare. Doctor Arliss, I think our new arrival should go and meet Edna."
Mirage's eyes opened wide upon hearing the familiar name. "Edna? As in Edna Mode?"
"Yes, the very same," Jack said, "The most famous Super suit designer the world has known."
"You mean… She is here? Mirage asked, rather hesitantly. She knew of Edna, but by reputation alone. Mirage knew the designer had a difficult temper, being obstinate and prone to tantrums. Having her here in the future only added more fuel to Mirage's strange situation.
"She is here, but in the form of a hologram," the Doctor said. "The real Edna died centuries ago. She actually lived to be one hundred and twenty. She worked clandestinely all of her life, helping Supers. Our databases contain every thing we know about her. Our computers are very powerful, Mirage. With enough information, we can even recreate what is gone. We have created a replica of her. So, come," he said to her. "Let us go to the Development Area."
"I forgot to ask," Mirage said, as she followed Jack and the doctor out of the control room. "I know you possess a lot of data on individuals, but what do you know about me?" Mirage paused. "What about my…"
The Doctor cut her off. "Death?" He said. "We don't have that. You see, as you came to our era, your life has been altered: The space–time continuum has adjusted itself in consequence. The moment of your death still remains a mystery." Mirage was somehow very relieved to hear that.
They had walked down a dimly lit corridor, which led to a medium sized room. It was empty, except for two chairs in a corner. Its walls were polished steel, featureless. They vaguely reminded Mirage of the holding cell she had regained consciousness into. Jack and the Doctor sat down.
"Please, Mirage, could you stand in the center of the floor please?" the Doctor asked her.
She did so. As she waited, the room around her went dark. Jack and the Doctor disappeared in the shadow. A single ray of light, coming from the ceiling, enveloped Mirage. A voice then resonated in the room.
"It seems I have been called again... I hope whoever did so is worth it, my time is very precious," said the voice, in heavily accented English mixed with German overtones. Mirage looked around her, trying to locate the source of the voice. "Please do not move. How can I create a masterpiece, if you squirm all the time? Please, let the Artist focus."
Like a ghost, the hologram of Edna Mode came out of the darkness and silently walked up to Mirage. Mirage was stunned to see how short the designer had been in reality: the top of her head barely reached Mirage's waist. Edna stepped back, eyeing her next project.
"Well, well, how interesting," Edna said, as she slowly circled Mirage. "Oh yes, I see. Yes, very interesting. So, am I to assume you came here for a suit?" Mirage was unsure if she could answer. She looked at the men sitting away in the darkness. Jack motioned her to go ahead.
"Yes, I…" Mirage said, only to be abruptly cut off by the hologram.
"Yes, yes Dahling, I know what you want. It was just a rhetorical question." Edna frowned as she stepped back from Mirage. "Yes, I know. I know who you are."
And like a drill sergeant briefing a new recruit, she told her: "You are Mirage Moresso. You are a Super and that is very obvious Dahling, as you very much look the part… You are one of the few Supers who do no possess a secret identity. As you work behind the scenes, in darkness and secrecy, you have no need for it." Edna went on, her hands behind her back, still walking around Mirage. "But we live in an imperfect world. You are not a full fledged Super. You are in fact, half human. Your mother was a Super and your father, if I may say so, a mere mortal... But, fear not, for you still possess very interesting powers: You can see in the dark as well as most people can during the brightest of days… Your powers of Transmutation are very practical but obviously limited. And like all Supers, you are motivated by an unconscious quest, something that is more powerful than you are. In your case I could say that the disappearance of your father when you where a child is probably one of your main motivators."
Edna's tone of voice lowered. "It could also be related to the fact that your mother died a short time after your father had abandoned you both. The cancer that took her away was of the most unforgiving kind… I'm very sorry for that. Supers are not immortal, it is sad to say so. You desperately tried to save her but you failed, as your other power had not developed completely at the time. And how could it? You were just a child."
Mirage's eyes lowered to the ground.
Edna smiled. "I'm sorry if I sound harsh. But you are a Healer, Dahling. I can see it in your eyes. That is what I meant to say. A most rare and valuable power… Perhaps, the rarest of them all. You cannot be a bad person if you are a Healer. That is why I like you." She glanced quickly at Jack. "It's not like flying," she said. "That is so, mundane, ordinary…" Jack did not say anything, but he felt his fingers twitch as he stared at Edna. "And even if you still feel your powers not to be as developed as they could have been, they are still very, very strong. But like any skill, you must work at them, nurture them, and hone them, until they bloom."
Edna walked up to mirage and gently poked her in the stomach. "You are a Super, Dahling.Now stand still and I'll make you what you want. I'll make you a suit."
And as she said that, Edna backed away from Mirage, her hands waving around like a magician doing a trick. "You will become my latest masterpiece, Mirage Moresso…"
The light that engulfed Mirage turned brighter. Swirls of changing colours appeared in mid air. The deepest of purples, reds, blues, greens and yellows now floated around her in a soft and gentle spin. The colours became thicker, leaving a trail as they stretched, blending together like oils of different densities that would have been seen through a glass jar. Mirage was completely engulfed by the liquid light for a fraction of a second. Jack could not see her anymore.
After a short time, the moving lights suddenly slowed down and then silently faded away. They revealed Mirage, who still stood where she had been. As he saw her again, the Lieutenant's face lit up.
Mirage looked at her upper arms, to inspect the strange fabric that now covered them. The translucent dress she wore had disappeared. In its place, a multicoloured two piece suit made of thin but obviously sturdy material enveloped her body. It was perfectly adapted to her. The shark-skin like texture of the fabric shimmered in the light, making the colour swirls on the garment seem to change, depending on the angle of one's point of view. Jack looked impressed by what he saw and he let out a soft and discreet whistle. Mirage raised an eyebrow as she heard it.
"I think you will appreciate the uncovered navel," Edna said, pointing to Mirage's bare midriff. "Very comfortable. Very in. Very Now... You seem to have an appreciation for such a type of clothing. Remember, I can read you, Dahling"
The lights had turned back on in the room. Edna went on. "Butnow, please bear with me as I explain the very important features of your new apparel… Your suit is customized for you and for you only. I have designed it to fit your specific type of approach to Super Hero work. So, what I have created for you is not bullet proof nor fire proof. First and foremost, your suit possesses an intuitive cloaking device."
But as Edna said that, she suddenly vanished. She reappeared, but a minuscule portion of her actual size, re-materializing on Mirage's left shoulder. Mirage was speechless as she could hardly believe she had now someone hanging on her shoulder, talking into her ear, not unlike her conscience. "The intuitive cloaking device, Dahling. One of my favourite tricks," the minuscule Edna said. "We live in a world where Supers are most undesired. You would not want to be caught wearing a Super suit. The Intuitive cloaking device enables you to either change the color of your suit to something that will not attract so much attention, or, if the need be, to be completely replaced by civilian clothes of your choice in a blink of an eye. All you have to do is wish it, Dahling." Edna held up her hand. "Now, please, try it for me Dahling."
Mirage was hesitant. She then looked at Edna and took a deep breath. Instantaneously, the colours of her suit vanished. She was now totally dressed in white. "It's amazing," she said.
"For the morphing with civilian clothes, you will be able to switch back and forth from your suit to whatever you are wearing at that moment. Molecular exchange, Dahling." Edna smiled, as she had returned to her full size. "But you will have to think about that, as your suit will not be able to create new clothes, it is just able to make an exchange with what you are wearing. If you only had your suit on and think too quickly, you might end up au naturel…"
Edna paused as she eyed Mirage. "You would still look fabulous by the way, Dahling. But it would not be practical… Where would you put your car keys? Anyhow, let us move on."
Edna's tone became sombre again. "Like I said earlier, we live in a world that is very hostile to Supers. It would be most useful then to further be able to hide one's true identity… This is why your suit is also equipped with a Genetic Marker Cloaking System. If confronted by the authorities, and this will surely happen as they are everywhere, their sensors will be fooled. You will pass for an Ordinary Secured Citizen, level one. But I must warn you. As sure as I am of my designs, they are not infallible. They could potentially fail without warning."
Edna seemed to want to brush off her shortcomings as she walked away, waving her hand. "So, just try to stay out of the police's hands and you are going to be fine."
"And now," she said, as she turned around, "the pièce de résistance. The suit I have created for you actually multiplies your powers ten times their original strength. It was hard to do that, by the way. But I'm very proud of it." Mirage could barely believe her ears. All of this seemed impossible.
Edna smiled. "I have taken this occasion to give you back your powers, by the way. The neutralizer they used on you very easy to get rid of." Mirage glanced at Jack when she said that. "And no, Dahling, I cannot fix their problem. It lies too deep within them. We need, how shall I put it? Bigger guns..."
Edna knew she had had an impact on Mirage. "That is all I have to say. So, go now. Test your suit. I have not told you everything about it, by the way... And be the Super you always were. You are a Healer, Dahling. I believe in you." And as she said that, Edna Mode slowly backed away from Mirage, and disappeared.
"We have to go," Jack said, breaking the silence.
Romulus sat on a small wooden chair set in an antechamber in the vicinity of the Crystal Cathedral. He sat in the dark, having only the faint light of a small candle to illuminate him. On the table in front of him, covered by an old stained tablecloth, lay an ancient record player. The device had a handle on its side. Romulus turned it a few times. The scratched and worn out seventy-eight rpm record started to spin. With a shaking hand, he put the needle on top of it. A scratchy sound was heard, resonating on the crystal walls. A shrill voice sang, happy and upbeat:
We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz...
Romulus held his knife as he listened to the song. Slowly, he pulled the blade on to the open palm of his left hand, cutting it open. He watched his blood ooze out.
He wept.