Chapter One Hundred and Five

...

"In today's news, it seems that the UN has finally reached a verdict about super representatives," Brian Anderson said with a broad smile. "Each country will now allow a super to be their representative on behalf of all supers in said country. It could mean big changes to the way the UN handles super-related topics.

"Applications open on the UN website tomorrow, with interviews for all countries to be conducted by Babel and a panel of other UN representatives. The UN are claiming they will have the processing and initiation complete in time for February next year, which seems ambitious for any organisation, let alone one the size of the UN. Any supers out there with a Bachelor of Political Science, now's your chance to apply."

"I've known about it for two days and I still don't know if I'm excited or horrified, dearest," Babs said, grinning over at Frieda. "I might actually be able to sleep for more than four hours sometime before I die, but I'm ninety-nine percent certain that the initiation is something I will be tasked with doing. I'll have to do it for every single representative and it might kill me before then."

"I much prefer you alive, dearest," Frieda said, smiling and kissing her gently.

Babs kissed her back, pulling away after a moment with a worried expression. "I wonder if I can get a truth detector in to make sure they're all telling the truth? I need people loyal to countries and their people, not money-hungry and easy to bribe. Truth detectors are expensive though, and the UN's cheap."

"Honey probably knows one; do you want me to ask her?" Frieda offered.

"Oh, would you mind, dearest? I'm already thinking about how I'm going to have to create standardised training for everyone, but in every language. It's enough to give me a headache," Babs murmured.

Babs' phone lit up and started ringing.

"Speaking of headaches," she muttered, sighing before answering the phone. "Delattre, what do you want? Oh, you have a candidate, do you? They can go through the application process, just like everyone else."

Frieda dialled Honey's number, hoping her daughter would have some way of helping Babs; she certainly didn't want her lover exhausted for the rest of the year.

"Hi, Mum. I've got three truth detectors, two bodyguards, and a holiday booked for you both in two months' time."

Sighing in relief, Frieda frowned a moment later. "Why does she need bodyguards?"

"Some people are going to use the application process as a way to get close to certain UN representatives in order to make attempts on their lives. There are precautions in place, but the bodyguards will help."

"Will Babs be all right?" Frieda asked.

"Nothing more than a scrape," Honey assured her.

"Okay, if you're sure?"

"Always. If you could put Babs on, I want to talk to her about this as well."

"She's just... oh, she's here now. Babs, dearest, it's Honey for you," Frieda said, offering her phone to her.

"Thank you, dearest. Hello, Honey."

"Hey. I've got three truth detectors for you - you'll need three since the first one will collapse due to exhaustion and the second will either die or quit as a result of an attempt on their life; they're getting their affairs in order, but it's a fifty-fifty chance, so we're both hoping it only ends in a loss of job, rather than loss of life. Two bodyguards to capture people who want to take a shot at the UN representatives, and I do mean that literally, so when I message you during these interviews, drop to the floor, understood?"

"I understand. Thank you, Honey."

"With how happy you're making my mother, I should be thanking you. Now, as a result of that day, you'll be given leave, be sure to take it. You'll be on a holiday with Mum either in Italy or the Maldives; I haven't decided."

"An actual holiday? You mean it? No phone, no email?" Babs clarified, too wary to get her hopes up.

"No phone, no email. Hell, if Mum didn't want to check in with me and Layla every so often, I'd say no contact at all, but it's a small amount. You'll even sleep more than four hours," Honey said with a smile.

Babs laughed incredulously. "Well, I certainly look forward to it," she said.

"Oh. Maldives. Awesome, send me a postcard."

"Of course, dear. Do you want to talk to your mother again?" Babs asked.

"No, thanks. Have a good night; Layla's staying with Warren. Also, I'm interviewing Zona tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you for letting me know. Have a nice night, dear."

"You, too," Honey said with a grin, ending the call.

"Is everything all right, dearest?" Frieda asked as Babs set the phone down on the counter.

"Everything is wonderful. We have the house to ourselves tonight."

Frieda smiled and took Babs' hand, heading upstairs with her eagerly.

...

"Adam, did you get the message I sent you?" Layla asked.

"Yep, already posted the message. Five replies so far, but nothing concrete. The Super Bureau's already sniffing around the message board, so I'll have to take it down soon. Do we have any juice?" Adam asked, returning his attention to the fridge.

"I think it's all gone," Layla replied, seeing the recycling bin full of bottles and cartons.

"Ah, damn. I've been craving pineapple juice. Or maybe I just want pineapple pizza. Either way, we're out. Andy and Yuki took the pizza bases that Warren made, which he still hasn't replaced!" Adam called, knowing Warren was outside doing a tai chi set with Ry.

"Shut up!"

"I can get a pineapple for you. I don't know how to make pizza bases though, so it'll just have to be the fruit," Layla added.

Adam shrugged. "Fine by me. Thanks, Layla."

"No problem," Layla said with a smile, heading out to Eden to grow a pineapple.

"Huh, I thought pineapples grew on trees," Craig said, chewing his way through an apple he'd picked from the orchard.

"No, dude. That's bananas," Ry called.

"Yeah, but I thought pineapples did, too. It'd hurt like hell if one of these fell on your head though, all those spikes. Ooh, can you make them spikier?" Craig asked in excitement.

"I don't know, I've never tried. Let me give this one to Adam, and I'll be right back to try it, okay?"

Craig nodded, his mouth full of apple. Layla set the pineapple in the kitchen, concentrating for a moment to split and dice the fruit for Adam.

"Thanks. What's the rush?" Adam asked curiously.

"I'm going to see if I can make a pineapple even more painful," Layla said with a laugh, heading back outside.

Adam grabbed a bowl of pineapple pieces and followed her.

"Oh, pineapple. Thanks, dude," Craig said, reaching for a piece.

"No. Go get your own," Adam said, holding his bowl away from Craig.

"Rude!"

"You've got sticky fingers; I don't want to know why, and I don't want them near my pineapple. There's more inside, go get some."

"You'll wait?" Craig asked Layla, who nodded. Craig returned a moment later, bowl in hand, and several pieces of pineapple already shoved in his mouth. "'Kay."

Layla grew a pineapple, pulled it from the plant and held it on the palm of her hand. She concentrated for a moment, the spikes on the pineapple lengthening to needle-thin points.

"Pineapple bomb? Pineapple pincushion? Hmm, pineapple, no spikeapple."

"Spikeapple," Ry echoed with a snort of amusement.

"Three syllables is too long though," Craig said.

"Spikebomb. Can it actually explode?" Adam asked curiously.

"Anything does if you throw it hard enough," Warren said.

"That's... both worrying and probably accurate," Adam said, frowning as he chewed on a piece of pineapple.

"Can you make it so the spikes fly off? Y'know, so it does more damage than just destroying whatever it hits?" Ry asked.

"I like the way you think," Craig said, grinning.

"I'm worried about the way you think," Adam called out as Ry finished his tai chi set and came over with Warren. "But I'm curious to know if it will work."

"I don't think I should do it up here. Let's go to the training arena," Layla said, carrying the spiked pineapple carefully.

"What's going on?" Zach asked, seeing the procession following Layla and what looked to be a weird pincushion.

"Layla turned a pineapple into a spikebomb. We're going to see what it does," Craig said. "Are Jewel and Grant back yet?"

"Not yet; they're waiting for Donny to finish his shift. What's a spikebomb?" Wendy asked, letting the flurry dissipate overhead.

"Hopefully, painful," Adam said.

"For other people," Ry added.

"Well, yeah, 'course. Why would we create something that hurts us?"

"Pretty sure everyone who's ever created a weapon has said the same thing."

"Can everyone shut up so Layla can concentrate?" Warren asked, a little concerned by the expression on his girlfriend's face.

"I just don't know how I'm going to throw it. I can't grip and throw it like I would normally for a ball, otherwise I would hurt myself. It's difficult to change a fruit while it's flying through the air," Layla added.

"Throw it above us. It's only got spikes on the sides, right? So if they do fly out, it won't hit us," Ry said.

"Hmm, okay. Everyone ready?" Layla asked, getting a chorus of affirmation from her friends. "All right, launching."

Balancing the pineapple precariously on her palm, Layla threw it up as high as she could, then tried to get the needles to launch out of the pineapple. The pineapple seemed to hover in the air for a moment, but nothing happened to the spikes.

Layla's eyes widened at the realisation, the pineapple already starting to drop. "It's not working."

"Everyone move, it's coming back down!"

"Oh, shit!"

Grant and Jewel walked into the training arena to find their friends and boyfriend lying in various states of pain on the ground.

"What happened here?" Grant asked in confusion.

"Spikebomb," several people chorused.

"Test one failed," Zach added.

"What is a spikebomb?" Jewel asked curiously.

"A pineapple?" Grant asked incredulously, seeing where several of his friends were pointing.

"Spikebomb," Craig corrected. "Layla's made the spikes even spikier and we're trying to get them to fly outwards."

"So you're attempting to change the pineapple as it's flying through the air?" Grant asked Layla, receiving a nod.

"I altered the spikes first, but that made it difficult to throw."

"Ouch," Jewel said, wincing in realisation.

"Okay, so that's two separate problems: the first is how to throw it without hurting the person holding it, and the second is how to get it to explode the spikes, correct?"

"Yeah. I think I'll work on the second problem first. There's no point trying to make them throwable if I can't get them to explode properly," Layla said.

"Good point. Jewel, can you create several boxes about this wide? We can drop the test objects into the boxes without injuring ourselves if it does work," Grant said.

"Sure thing, babe," Jewel said, creating several boxes out of jewel.

"Bombs have an explosive in them to break the casing and create the actual damage," Ry said. "Can we add something to the pineapple, Layla?"

"I think I have a better idea. Unless someone has an explosive lying around?" she added with a grin.

"Eth might have something," Zach mused, looking affronted when everyone looked at him. "What?"

"We're coming back to that," Warren muttered, shaking his head. "What's your idea, hippie?"

"Cardamine hirsuta," Layla replied. "Also known as hairy bittercress; it's a type of plant that uses an explosive mechanism to disperse its seeds."

"Hairy bittercress; who comes up with the names for this shit?" Craig asked, snickering.

"It's a type of edible mustard plant. It doesn't have any spikes, which would be better than combining it with a pineapple, but I can work on the cross-pollination to grow it naturally later," Layla said, ignoring Craig's comment. She grew the Cardamine hirsuta plant on the ground, watching it for a moment as she nudged it with her power to disperse the seeds.

"Ah, crap, that's gone all over my legs," Craig muttered.

"It's got a lot of range considering the plant's size," Wendy said.

"I think the range should translate to the pineapple, if I can combine them," Layla mused.

"So you're going to make a pineapple that tastes like mustard?" Adam asked curiously.

"It could be a mustard plant that looks like a pineapple; you know, like those cooking shows that they make things that look like other things?" Zach said.

"Oh, yeah. Did you see the chocolate umbrella?" Ry asked, grinning.

"Yeah, that one was awesome!"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Wendy asked.

Layla focused on creating a combination of the Cardamine hirsuta and pineapple, starting with the smaller problem of combining the two very different plant families in the first place before she even tried to make any modifications to the pineapple itself. The conversation became background noise as she worked and then as the others drifted away or left to go home, the background noise disappeared completely. By the time Layla had finished and was satisfied with attempt number twelve, she and Warren were the only two left in the Hive.

"How'd you go, hippie?" Warren asked.

"I think I've finally got it. Where is everyone?" she asked, looking around to see they were alone.

"They left an hour ago, hippie. Everyone said goodbye," he added.

"Oh, I didn't hear them. Ugh, my head's killing me."

"Here," Warren said, creating a chair out of a fern for her, growing it beneath Layla so she wouldn't have to move.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him. "Want to see if it works?"

"Hell, yes," he replied, dragging one of Jewel's boxes over.

"Let me just create a couple of copies before I destroy it. Want to record it to send to the others?" Layla suggested.

"Good idea; they'd be pissed if they missed out."

Layla created a few more of the mustard-pineapple combinations, far easier now that she had a handle on what needed to go where. She just hoped that the seed dispersion actually worked when combined with the pineapple's modified spikes. "Ready?"

"Ready," Warren said, holding his phone over the box and recording.

"Three, two, one," Layla said, letting go of the pineapple.

It dropped into the box and splattered against the hard surface.

"Did it work?" Warren asked, stopping the recording and looking closer.

"I don't know. Can I see the recording? I'll watch it in slow motion," Layla said, taking Warren's offered phone.

"I think a couple of spikes shot out, but not all of them," Warren said, seeing a few closer to the edge of the box than the pineapple. "Also, it smells like mustard and I'm kind of hungry now."

"Mustard isn't a meal," Layla said absentmindedly, watching the recording carefully. "You're right about the pineapple, though. I think I have to align the Cardamine hirsuta seeds with the pineapple spikes to get them all to disperse. Do you mind if I try again? It shouldn't take as long this time," she added.

"All right, hippie. But show me how you do it. I can make them, too," Warren said.

Layla smiled as Warren sat beside her on his own fern chair, leaning over to kiss him firmly. "Thank you, hottie."

"You're lucky I love you."

"I know I am," she said with a warm smile and another kiss. "Now, this is the Cardamine hirsuta," Layla said, producing the hairy bittercress for Warren to study.

...

Terrence woke up blearily, wondering what had woken him and why. Seeing his phone screen lit up, he groaned and grabbed it, annoyed that he hadn't turned his notifications off like he usually did. Curious about who would be messaging so early - Super Jesus, it was only 2am! - Terrence unlocked his phone to look at the received message. Part of him hoped it was Adam messaging, but that hope was soon squashed as he saw the message from Warren.

Adam didn't like him like that anyway. Adam didn't like anyone like that, Terrence reminded himself firmly. He needed to get over his crush because it would never be reciprocated. The knowledge didn't stop him from wanting though and it sure as fuck didn't stop his heart from hurting, either.

Ignoring his stupid emotions and stupid crush, Terrence read Warren's message and accompanying video.

Warren: introducing the spikebomb.

"What the fuck is a spikebomb?" Terrence muttered, turning the sound down on his phone and pressing 'play' on the video.

Layla showed on the screen clearly, grinning far too broadly considering the time, with her hair a mess and shadows under her eyes. She said something, then the video was zoomed out to reveal a pineapple sitting on her palm. Except, it wasn't a normal pineapple; the spikes were super thin and reminded Terrence of a pin cushion. If pin cushions could look like an evil fruit, Terrence amended.

The recording continued as Layla dropped the fruit into a large sparkling box, and Terrence sat up straight in his bed as he saw what happened. In disbelief, he paused and rewound the video, using his power to play the video in slow motion. The pineapple dropped towards the box slowly, frame by frame, and as it hit the sparkly bottom of the box, the super thin and super sharp spikes on the pineapple shot out towards the sides of the box. Playing the video at normal speed again, Terrence wasn't entirely surprised to see several of the spikes embedded in the edge of the box itself.

"Super fucking Jesus. That's a spikebomb."

While part of him wanted to know everything about the spikebomb, Terrence was also exhausted. He fell back to sleep before he could reply to Warren's message, his phone resting loosely in his hand.

...

Craig: super fucking Jesus, that's amazing!

Craig: I love it and I love you

Craig: can I order a thousand?

Craig: y'know, when you've worked out how to hold them without stabbing yourselves in the hand

Adam: some of us are trying to sleep, shut up

Jewel: I'll keep him quiet ;)

Adam: you shut up too

Grant: I'll see what I can do ;)

Grant: you set yourself up for that, Ace

Adam: I'm too tired for this shit

Ethan: It looks like a brilliant piece of work, Layla. I am very impressed you managed to combine two completely different genus so well!

Ethan: I would be interested in working with you to solve the problem of actually throwing the spikebomb; text me your available times - you know mine from the timetable.

Adam: that's it; your Internet connections are all fucked for the next three hours until I've slept properly

Zach: why were you up so late?

Adam: dealing with cops. Tell you all later, okay?

Ethan frowned over at Zach at Adam's message, even as their phones lost reception and Internet connection all at once. "Do you think everything is all right?"

"It's gotta be; Adam wouldn't leave us hanging like that," Zach said, Ethan conceding with a nod. "I was going to play Kwazy Kupcakes. Dammit, this was my free hour to play, too," he said with a sigh, setting his phone aside. "It's a Saturday; Mr. Bowie doesn't have the language class today since he's preparing for next week's return to Sky High. That means we have three hours before there's anything else on our timetable, and I just lost an hour of game time."

Ethan smiled at his boyfriend. "I can think of several ways we can spend three hours," he said, moving to straddle Zach and kissing him deeply.

Zach was all too eager to agree with his boyfriend's compromise.

...

"Good morning, listeners. This is Honey from Labyrinth magazine and radio. Today I'll be interviewing the one and only Zona. How are you this morning, Zona?"

"Well, thank you, Honey," Zona replied with a smile, clear-eyed and sober.

"I'm glad to hear that. Now, I'm just jumping straight into this interview because I have to know: what are your thoughts on the UN's treatment of supers? You're a super yourself, correct?"

"That's right. I don't have flashy powers like Jetstream and the Commander, but that doesn't mean a thing to the UN and their treatment of supers in general. Their employment of a single super to provide insight and fair dealings for supers in over one-hundred and ninety countries is not only biased, it's an outrage. If it were the other way around, with supers having representatives for each country and only one citizen to represent every other citizen in most of the world, there would be protests in the street every day," Zona said, shaking her head. "Of course, that's going to change now that they've agreed to have individual supers for each country. With one decision, the UN has just created another three-hundred and eighty-five jobs, or eighty-six depending on Babel. Each of the super representatives will need an assistant, hence double the jobs," she added when Honey looked to her curiously.

"Babel has done an amazing job for the last thirty-five years, but she is one person and it was completely unfair for her to be forced to do the job of one-hundred and ninety-three people. She's assisted with everything from famine and drought relief to emergency aid at the same time.

"In 2005, in August alone, Babel helped the US with Hurricane Katrina, dealt with the fatal landslide in Hong Kong, had to ensure supers weren't blamed for the Air France 358 plane crash in Canada or the TANS Perú flight in Pucallpa or the West Caribbean Airways flight in Venezuela, assisted central Europe with the floods they had experienced, and also had to complete her own job at the UN with 1618, 1619, and 1620 Security Council Resolutions. There was also a blackout in Bali, the Mauritanian coup d'état, a shooting in Shiloh, bombings in Baghdad, a battle between the US and Iraq, and a space shuttle flight.

"For most of these, citizens blamed supers for either doing the act or not preventing it. Weather supers were blamed for the hurricanes throughout Wisconsin and Florida, then blamed for not stopping them when it was discovered they were the result of nature and nothing more nefarious.

"Supers were also blamed for the planes crashing, then again for not saving everyone. Airborne is the only super with both flight and super strength combined and has only been in the public eye in the last six months, certainly not back in 2005. Besides, not even Jetstream and the Commander could have saved those planes. She could have flown to the plane and he could have carried it, but they use their powers together; it probably would have resulted in the Commander's death since he has no way to control his descent after being launched by Jetstream, and likely would have been sucked into the engine turbines instead."

Honey tried not to smile at the thought. "That's a very in-depth insight into supers and citizens, and how they are unfairly treated by the UN. Are you aware of the new proposal to register supers?" she asked curiously.

"The one Babel mentioned on Channel Five?" Zona asked with a frown.

"Oh, no. That one was scrapped as soon as the program finished airing, possibly sooner. Another proposal has been sent to the UN representatives, this one as an attempt from the US representative with the backing of Russia, France, and the UK."

"It's rare for those four countries to agree about anything. I suppose they're not calling it a register?" Zona asked.

"No. It's a proposal to combat terrorism and includes a register for both domestic supers and those coming into the country for something as small as a holiday or as big as moving to our country in an effort to improve their lives or their children's. I believe the small print indicates that they will have the right to retain or imprison anyone on the register without providing a reason."

Zona was silent for a long moment and Honey could see that she was trying to contain her anger. Through the recording studio's window, Honey could see the phone switchboard was lighting up brilliantly with incoming calls from their listeners; some would agree with the register, but a significant number would be justifiably outraged. This time, she didn't try to stop her smile.

"You are all welcome to protest by calling the United States' UN representative," Honey said, listing their name and phone number. "They're likely to be at the UN headquarters in New York right now, which is the same time zone as us, thankfully. Babel is in the UN Super Headquarters right here in Maxville. I'm sure she'll be happy to provide you with more information and - oh, I stand corrected, she's here in the studio."

Zona looked around in surprise, her eyes widening when she saw Babel standing with Sarah outside of the recording studio. "Can we invite her in? I'd love to discuss some of the policies that the UN have implemented recently, and of course, talk about the super registry and why she believes these countries are so determined to have a register for a quarter of their citizens."

"I'll be happy to see if she's available and willing. We'll go to an ad break and answer callers when we return," Honey said, setting the ad breaks to run.

"Holy spandex; how do I look?" Zona asked.

"Lovely, Zona. Babs, can I steal you for the rest of my show? Do you mind, Sarah?" Honey asked as she popped her head out of the door and smiled at the two women charmingly.

"It's up to Babs, not me," Sarah said.

Babel looked at her watch, then smiled. "I think I can spare another half hour. This can be considered work, since I doubt you're wanting to interview little old me without the UN badge attached."

"Any other day, I'd love to," Honey said with a laugh. "I'll get you a headset. Zona, this is Babel. Babel, this is Zona."

"Ah, yes. I read your thesis yesterday. I was quite interested in your concept of reimagining political anthropology in order to learn from our ancestors' decisions. I think you had some very valid points and I'd be happy to discuss them with you, if you'd like?"

"You read my thesis?" Zona asked, her jaw dropping. "My own mother refused to read it!"

"Well, considering it was nearly five-hundred pages, I'd be happy to provide your mother with a short synopsis of the important parts, if you'd like? I understand what it's like when you write something like that, it's close to your heart and you think every word and chapter is important and couldn't possibly be reduced to a bullet point list."

Zona didn't know whether to be flattered or offended, and decided on flattered. It was a much better use of her energy, after all. Besides, Babel had offered to talk to her about her thesis, which no one other than her supervisor had wanted to do after her second year as a postgraduate student. "I'm sure she'd read that; are you sure you can get it all into a list?"

"Oh, quite sure, dear. I do the same thing with every country's UN report every week. The things are drier than Antarctica," Babel said, rolling her eyes. She smiled and slipped her headphones on when Honey indicated to them, Zona hurrying to do the same beside her.

"Welcome back, listeners. We have Babel in the studio with Zona, and we're discussing the UN's proposed super register. This is the second time this year that a proposal similar to this has been proposed to the UN, isn't that correct, Babel?"

"Yes, that's right. Similar proposals have gone through the UN on a regular basis, though the general public aren't always aware of it. The CRUST register in the 70s was the last proposal until the 80s. From there, it's usually a year's wait before the proposal is attempted to be brought up in the UN again again, so to have two in one year is a concern," Babel mused.

"Why do you think these countries are so insistent on having a super registry?" Zona asked curiously.

"That has two reasons: the first is they're scared, plain and simple. When people are scared of something, they want to label it so they know exactly what it is, what it can do, and what they can do to stop it. That way the thing they're scared of no longer has a hold over them. If I say one in three people have the super's gene, that scares the other two, even though they outnumber the one. By saying one in three people are Heroes, that reassures people that they're safe and secure: Heroes are known entities and won't hurt them.

"The second reason is so that the registered supers can be used. It really came to light in the Global Warming Treaty last year where countries added their register of supers to supposedly stop global warming, but people with super strength and military backgrounds aren't the ones who stop global warming. No offense to the Commander and Airborne, of course, but they can't punch a tornado."

Zona giggled at the thought and Honey grinned, knowing that the Commander had just broken yet another home phone in his attempt to angrily dial Labyrinth's station number.

"The newest register proposal is far more vague than the last one that was sent, the one I mentioned on TV?" Babel added. "This one still has individual country requirements, but there are other amendments that have nothing to do with supers that I'm concerned about. As you mentioned in your thesis, Zona, most citizens brought their own ideals and politics with them when they migrated away from their home countries. This, of course, changed the politics in the new residing country. It didn't happen overnight, it was a gradual process, but their ideas and ideals still influenced future generations to become better and continually improve.

"This proposed registry would stop that, as anyone entering the country, whether for a holiday or to emigrate, would need to state not only their super ability, but their sexuality, religion, race, and their political preferences. With these being requirements on such a registry, it would reduce this country from a proud multicultural and diverse community to one that housed people that only the government or politicians deem suitable. This would result in more people leaving the country to seek refuge or to escape confinement, experimentation, or worse, death. If the register gets through now, then that allows for it to be amended. Eventually, citizens and super alike could potentially be imprisoned for something as simple as not liking Hawaiian pizza just because it's the favourite food of that year's President. Something like this starts small and ends up reducing a country and its citizens: when it all ends, there is no one that will benefit from a register like this."

"Thank you for your input, Babel. We'll start taking callers now. Hello, you're on the line: what are your thoughts on the registry?"

"Look, I'm just saying all the Hawaiian pizza in the world needs to be thrown into a volcano and then that volcano needs to be nuked. Whoever decided to put that goddamn fruit on pizza should be thrown in after the pizza."

"Sam Panopolous died in 2017, but thank you for your input," Honey said, trying not to sound too amused as several people would go on to win trivia contests thanks to the caller. "Hello, you're on the line: what are your thoughts on the super registry?"

"It's absolute beeping beep. Some of my best friends are supers and I'd pay to get them out of the country before I ever saw them on a register like that."

"I can't believe they're trying something like this again! Didn't any of the protests work?"

"It's a piece of paper or something similar on a computer, it doesn't automatically make it a bad thing. It's a list, just like a shopping list. It doesn't mean it's the end of the world!"

"I'm a super myself and I would never add my details to a register like that. Bad things happened to supers who are known by the government. In the 60s and 70s during the conscription wars, known supers were dragged out of their beds in the middle of the night. Not one of them came back. This will have it happening again, I just know it."

"It's like the Incredible Genius said: we have to keep protesting until they get the point; no one's going to know what we want unless we tell them!"

"People, whether citizens or supers, don't deserve to be tagged. There are kids with powers out there; what the beep have they ever done to deserve something like this?"

"It's the only way to keep us safe. How else are we going to know what immigrating supers are going to do if we don't track them and watch them? They're probably plotting to kill us all as soon as they get in the country."

"The ones coming into our country are all sleeper supers, y'know, the ones from Russia? They're here for years, all peaceful like, and then BAM! we're all dead. I've got evidence and I've seen it with my own eyes."

"Those last two callers need to stop doing meth. Seriously, guys, go see a doctor and get into rehab. Oh, and the register is the stupidest beeping thing I've heard; what if my kids developed powers in their teens? Would they be tagged for life because of a gene they can't control and no one even knows how it started in the first place? It's nothing they can control; I'm sure plenty of supers would prefer to be citizens than deal with this beep."

"I'm really worried about why they want to use supers. Everyone knows supers' powers aren't limitless. They can't do everything forever. The Global Warming Treaty wanted weather supers from every country to control their weather, but that's not even dealing with the root of the problem, it's just putting a bandaid over it. And when those weather supers die from exhaustion, the weather will go right back to being beeped up. Both citizens and supers need to take responsibility for their actions and the harm they've caused not only to the environment and Earth, but also to each other."

"Can you actually hear yourselves? This is the sorta social justice warrior beep that makes all those lefties think they're better than the rest of the world. The register is the best beeping thing I've heard all week and I hope it happens as soon as possible!"

"The register is ridiculous and whoever thinks it's a good thing needs to remember that this is how wars and genocide starts. These people are humans! Just because they have superpowers, it doesn't make them any less human. Yes, even shapeshifters."

"Yeah, it's me again. The Hawaiian pizza guy died?"

...

End of the hundred and fifth chapter.

Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed the updates!

Have a great Christmas and/or holiday break! 3