The Gold Corps: Shattered: Chapter 17: Graduations

…..

I don't own either Young Justice, the Green Lantern Corps, or the Justice League. Would I turn down the chance to own Rose Wilson? No comment.

…..

Chapter 17: Graduations

Mars, Mons Olympus: Arisia had managed to get there in record time. She'd conferred with the Guardians, who'd given her the all-clear to go, even though they normally frowned upon personal matters interfering with matters concerning the Corps. But evidently, the Martian Mystics, particularly Mistress O'nzz, had some influence with the Guardians, and Arisia was given leave to go see about M'gann.

Besides, when she'd conferred with them, she'd already been halfway there.

Upon arrival, she was met by a silent acolyte, who conducted her to a spacious meeting room. Mistress O'nzz was there. "Ah, thank you for coming, Lantern Arisia. M'gann is just down the corridor, packing what few things she has. Perhaps you could assist her."

"B-but, Mistress O'nzz! What happened? I mean, she was doing so well…"

Mistress O'nzz heaved a heartfelt sigh. "There is little I can tell you. Our rules and guidelines do not permit us to discuss these matters with outsiders." Abruptly, she smiled a sad smile at Arisia. "That also applies to other Martians. So you understand I can say…or perhaps I should say, should say nothing.

"But one bit of information I can impart, even though it violates our rules of confidentiality.

"You know the training acolytes undergo here is very stressful. Sometimes stress can cause a person to make unwise decisions.

"Student M'orzz is not the only one being discharged. Another, a young male student, is also being discharged.

"I will say no more than that. Saying what I have has already violated our rules."

Arisia felt numb, even as she raced down the corridor to M'gann's Spartan room. Within, she saw a weeping M'gann, sitting on the side of her bed, a box of Kleenex tissues next to her. The small garbage can was already overflowing with used tissues. "Uh, Megan?"

Megan didn't even look up, but just nodded, obviously miserable. "H-hello, Arisia." Her voice sounded drained, as though she'd been crying for days…and, thought Arisia, that might well be the case. She came over and sat by the green girl on her small bed.

"Megan, what happened? I thought things were going so well…"

Megan began crying afresh, ripping out some more tissues. "I got stupid, is what happened. There…there was a….Oh, Arisia, I don't know if I can even say it!"

Arisia sat close to her and pulled her into an embrace. "C'mon. I heard some other young Martian also being, er, 'invited to leave.' Does that have anything to do with this?"

Megan nodded, leaning against her. "Yeah. It does. See, there's this technique the Martian elders have been aware of, for thousands of years. It…it sounded like a, like a perfect solution. Without going into any details, it…it changes, or can change, the structure of reality itself. I don't guess I have to tell you it's a closely guarded secret."

Arisia held Megan's head against her shoulder. "Aaaand…you…utilized this, this technique? Or tried to?"

"Tried to. But…I couldn't do it alone. I didn't have access to all the materials I needed, all the knowledge.

"So I got some help."

"'Help'?" Arisia felt a cold chill settle on her arms and shoulders.

Nod. "One of the other students here. I…got him to help me."

Arisia paused. "And…you talked him into it? That was all?" Please tell me that was all!

"I…I didn't just talk him into it…with, you know… Arisia! I couldn't see any other way! The training here wasn't working!

"Arisia, Ragnar's gonna hate me! I betrayed him!"

Oh, gods, thought Arisia, still holding Megan tightly. Yeah, this was bad.

…..

Earth: Mt. Justice. Ragnar was pacing back and forth, wondering about this bet he'd inadvertently entered into with Rose. He had a sinking sensation that it was one he'd lose. And then…

He winced when he thought of Rose Wilson, of all people, and himself having sex. He knew about human sex, and certainly couldn't deny the attraction of sex, but…he just couldn't imagine having sex with Rose, of all people.

Well, if worse came to worst, he could just tell her what she could do with her bet. Nobody could force him to…do that, not with her.

No, no, he couldn't do that. He knew perfectly well that, were she to lose, she'd keep her end of the bargain. That being the case, he felt obligated to honor his.

I suppose a lot of guys would kill to have my problem, he thought to himself. I wish one of them did.

There was a metel-on-metal sound, and his door hissed open, admitting Rose, who casually tossed aside the paint scraper she'd used to jimmy his door. She was reading from a printout she had. "Okay, I think I've got this figured out."

"What figured out?" Warily. Why do I even bother to lock my door?

"How we can determine who's right and who's wrong about this. It's like everything else: you gotta know who to talk to. C'mon." She grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him into the main rec room. There was nobody else there, which made him all the more nervous. Rose just had that effect on him. She plopped him down on the couch and came over and sat by him. He hitched away. The further away from her he was, the better he liked it.

She picked up the remote and clicked it to "communications" mode. The big screen TV became a high-rez monitor directly hooked into the Watchtower's own communication web. A few moments of fiddling, and she figured out the "address" for the Martian group on Mons Olympus. They should be able to put her in touch with the Mystics….

Ragnar looked on in admiration. Rose had never been formally trained on the use of the communications system, but she'd basically figured it out on the fly. He doubted anyone could have done any better.

The Martian face that appeared on the screen was, to their eyes, completely androgynous. "Yes? To whom am I speaking?" The voice matched the face: neither male nor female.

"We're with the Earth group M'gann M'orzz is affiliated with. We're calling to check up on her, as we haven't heard from her in some time."

"That is deliberate and to be expected. Students of the Mystics are cloistered away in a very special retreat, and not allowed contact with outsiders, nor with outsider ways. That even includes many aspects of what you would call typical Martian life, as well. It is a stern and harsh requirement."

"Uhm, yes, we understand that. But could we speak to someone about her? We're just concerned, is all."

The face hesitated a bit. Then, "You've reason to be concerned. Anything else I cannot tell you, as it is against our policy to say."

Ragnar and Rose looked at each other. Reason to be concerned? What was that all about? Ragnar could feel his worry level rising.

Rose continued smoothly. "We understand. We'd like to speak to Mistress O'nzz, if you please."

Pause. Then, "Mistress O'nzz is under the same restrictions as I am. I do not know if she is available. Please hold while I check." A moment later, the face returned, the expression on it decidedly unpleasant. "I have located Mistress O'nzz, and she has agreed to speak with you regarding the matter of former student M'orzz. I will transfer you now."

Again Rose and Ragnar exchanged looks. Former student?

Again the screen cleared, and this time the face revealed had a decided feminine cast to it. "Yes? I understand you wished to speak with me?"

Rose cleared her throat. "Yes, uh, Mistress O'nzz, is it? Yes. I'm Rose Wilson, and this is Ragnar Rok. We are in the same covert team, here on Earth, that M'gann M'orzz is in. We, uh, we were calling to ask about her, and how she's doing. I know you can't reveal anything confidential, and we wouldn't ask that, anyway. But, we're her friends, and we haven't had any communication with her for some time now. A-and the person we just spoke with referred to her as a 'former student.' We, we uh, were wondering…I mean…if anything's gone wrong." Rose cleared her throat. Even over the millions of miles, Mistress O'nzz was an intimidating person.

For a minute, there was a pause at the other end, and they could see the Martian Mystic gathering her thoughts, and deciding what she could tell. "You are right; there is little I can actually say. It is true that former student M'orzz is in the process of being discharged from our program."

"So then…she's cured?" Ragnar spoke up, hopefully.

"I did not say that." Ragnar's stomach convulsed on him. Not cured? Megan?

"Former student M'orzz is in the process of being discharged from our program. I can really say no more about the matter than that. Your questions will have to wait until you see her yourself, in person. But there are certain preparations we must perform, certain procedures that must be accomplished before her ultimate release. These will take approximately five of your Earth days. After that time, she will be returning to you…assuming, of course, that she wishes to. But she will be free to go.

"So all of your questions will have to wait." And Mistress O'nzz moved to cut the connection.

"Wait!" said Rose, "Uh, one thing, and maybe this won't be, like, classified or anything. But, during her time there, did M'gann receive a box? A package?"

Mistress O'nzz hesitated. Then, "No. Former student M'orzz received no packages of any kind during her stay here. Such would be frowned upon, in any case."

Rose sat back in shock. She'd been so sure… "You're sure?"

"Of course. All mail would be routed through us, the Elders. She received no package of any kind, from anywhere, at all."

"Oh. Well, uh, thank you, Mistress O'nzz." Rose sat back, an expression of shock on her face. "Thank you for answering our questions."

"I believe the Earth term is, 'you're welcome.'" And she cut the connection.

Rose sat back against the back of the couch, an expression of amazement on her face. Ragnar watched her with some interest. When she wasn't lording it over him for some reason or another, Rose was actually rather attractive to look at. "Well? That seems to answer that."

"Yeah. It does." Rose tilted her head forward, recovering her composure. "I…I guess I was wrong, Ragnar. It kinda hurts to say it, but…it's the truth.

"So. A bet's a bet. What do you want, and when do you want me to do it?"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "Oh, I'm not going to hold you to that, that'd be silly."

"No, no. A bet's a bet. I sure would'a held you to yours. So tell me: what do you want me to do?"

"Rose. I don't want you to be my, my personal body slave or something. I, I'm not like that. I'm really not comfortable with that."

"Yeah, but…for my own self-respect, I gotta do this. Now come on. You must have something you'd like me to do. Clean your room? Do your laundry? Either or neither or both?"

Besides go away and leave me alone? He sighed. "Well, if you're determined…let me think about it."

"Hey, the sex thing is always a possibility, you know."

"Please." He shuddered visibly.

Mars, Mons Olympus: In the underground complex that had served the Martian Mystics for thousands of years, Arisia was helping M'gann pack what pitifully few belongings she had. Megan hadn't stopped crying, not totally, the whole time Arisia had been there. She, Megan, would have to undergo some "post processing" prior to actually leaving, so there was no real rush.

Arisia had tried to talk to Megan about what happened, but the Martian girl was inconsolable. "He-he won't want anything to do with me, and, and I can't blame him."

"You don't know that."

"How can he not feel that way? Arisia! I sold myself! Why or what for doesn't matter!"

Arisia sat back down on the narrow bed. "Look, M'gann. You're being way too hard on yourself. What if," she began, speculatively, "what if things were reversed? What if Ragnar did something similar, because he wanted to be with you?"

Miss Martian sniffled. "I—I'd forgive him, of course. I mean…"

Arisia motioned for her to sit down next to her. "M'gann. You know what the problem is? You won't forgive yourself. You won't forgive yourself for being, well, not human, but, yeah, human, in that way.

"So now, let's go over it from the beginning, shall we? What, exactly, happened?" And Megan began speaking.

She'd learned of the process—called by some "reality modification"—that involved the exploitation of the infinite number pi. Being infinite, literally, there was, somewhere within its vastness, a string of code that described the universe in its current state. Narrowing it down, within that string, were other, smaller strings describing the individuals within that universe, describing them from birth to death—and possibly beyond.

That code accurately described every single thing in the universe, from the smallest subatomic particle to the largest galaxy. And everything in between.

M'gann had begun to research it, purely for academic purposes only, of course, but that had quickly become research for a more practical usage. To this end, she'd enlisted another student, one S'yren S'inzz, a student about her age, and one who showed a great deal of promise. Normally, the sexes were rigorously segregated for the students, but both M'gann and S'yren were of sufficient level that nothing was thought about it.

Until it was too late.

M'gann had been the first to crack the code, to isolate those strings of coding that referred to their common universe, and, further, the lines of code that referred to the individuals in question…she thought.

But there was no way to be sure. The process for altering that line of code was intricate and very delicate, and largely unknown. S'yren had been reluctant to meddle further with such cosmic matters. More knowledge was needed, he said. Attempting anything at this point would be foolhardy. He'd balked, and quite sensibly, too.

M'gann didn't see things quite that way. She didn't see herself as quitting now, not when she was so close. So…she needed to coax her companion to continue doing something he regarded as unwise. In this respect, young Martians and young humans were no different.

Although she'd never had sex, being, essentially, a Martian teenager (in spite of her Earth years), and a virgin at that, she nonetheless found it wasn't all that difficult to… convince S'yren to continue helping her. She'd actually been surprised at how easy it all was.

"So you see," she said, sniffling, "I, I'm no better than a whore. I sold myself, my body. Maybe not for money, but, but to get somebody to do something. How can he forgive a thing like that? Arisia! I so wanted my first time to be with him!" Again, she began quietly weeping.

Arisia thought, and thought hard. Megan was tearing herself up inside, over guilt. And yes, some of that guilt was deserved: she had gotten another young student in trouble. Arisia's people didn't have the same perspective on sex that Earth humans had…to them, it was just an act, and virginity, purity, whatever one wished to call it, really wasn't that highly prized. In fact, a little experience on the part of both parties really tended to make things go better, she'd thought.

So she and Sodam Yat had what Earth people might call an open relationship. Either one could sex up pretty much anyone they pleased; a one-nighter or something along those lines, with no repercussions. But suppose….just suppose she'd found out that Sodam Yat was not only seeing another woman, but seeming to prefer her company to Arisia's?

Yeah, that would hurt like hell.

And two people, who'd all but promised themselves to one another…. That was sorta what they would be going through. If Ragnar was truly socially acclimated to the North American upper middle class social structure…and there was no reason to expect him not to be…it would be like discovering that Megan preferred somebody else to him. Never mind about the horror meme; it would still seem as though she'd deliberately chosen another. Which, in a way, she had, but, but not…that way. "Hurt like hell" pretty well covered that, too.

Once again, she pulled the Martian girl to her. "Okay, look: for one thing, he doesn't ever need to know." But even as she said it, she knew that wouldn't work.

"But I'd know! Every time he looked at me, every time he touched me, every time we….we kissed…I'd be reminded. I don't think I could keep that a secret like that from him!"

"Yeah, well, keep in mind, that horror meme is still in place. Compared to that, all this is small asteroids. One thing at a time, okay?"

Megan nodded, her head tightly against Arisia's shoulder.

….

All next day, Rose wondered what Ragnar was going to have her do. She'd promised him her service for twenty-four hours if she lost, and she'd lost, so…for some twenty-four period (and, she reminded herself, they didn't all have to happen at once. It would be just like him to break it up into a series of days, weeks, months…however long it took to completely humiliate her.

Except…somehow, she couldn't see him as wanting to humiliate her. Or cause her pain or harm in any way. It just wasn't like him, somehow)…for that twenty four hour period, he essentially owned her.

Of course, it was a no brainer what most guys would've gone for. How could any young man resist having his own living sex doll? And Rose was under no illusions about to her attractiveness. But he'd never suggested that. Privately, she wondered if he even found her attractive. It didn't seem like it.

But today he came in, waving a letter with an official looking seal on it. "I've got it. Rose, this is how you can pay off your debt. And it's fairly simple and easy."

"Really?" She grunted, lying on the couch in the rec room, magazine in hand. "So what is it?"

He showed her his notification of graduation, and of the senior prom to be held that night. "It's a couples thing," he said, "and you and I are gonna be the couple. You're gonna be my date."

Rose read the invitation with a rising sense of alarm. High school prom? Lights, dancing, music? Girls and girl talk? Boys staking out claims to the potentially spiked punch? "Uh, Ragnar? You, uh, you sure you wouldn't rather have a night of really hot sex?"

"Positive."

To be continued….