Step 5.11

I didn't like crowds.

I especially didn't like them when they kept stopping me for autographs and selfies. What could I do? Glare at the twelve-year-old girl and say 'no you can't have a selfie?' Then who'd be the villain?

"So cool!" The girl cheered as her father pulled her around to look at the camera screen.

"What do you say Molly?"

"Thank you, Newtype."

"No problem." I straightened my jacket as I stood up.

"She's nice."

Lafter chuckled.

The Brockton Pavilion walls rose and curved inward, giving the auditorium a star-burst shape. I thought the glass walls looked tacky, but such construction seemed to be popular in other cities less dilapidated than Brockton Bay. The front doors lay within a curved enclosure, a set of stairs leading to the ticket boxes with lines of police and some PRT standing guard on the sides.

The line to get in on the other hand stretched all the way around the block toward the community college campus.

I tried to keep myself out of sight of that. No need to draw a human wave my way.

"I hate crowds," I mumbled.

"Then why are we going to a concert?" Lafter asked.

Because someone won't take no for an answer.

And the words "matter of life and death" somehow figured into it.

Only after reading that note did I remember one of Dinah's predictions from last week.

Tragedy at Brockton Pavilion.

Something happened here. Another attempt on Relena Peacecraft, I guessed. But Ali Al-Saachez remained locked in his cell as far as I knew, so who else? Another assassin? Merchants?

The Merchants.

I didn't know what to do about them anymore. Without my suit I felt powerless to stop the flare ups of fighting as the ABB and Empire started poking around. Even some of Coil's mercenaries turned up on Wednesday afternoon to raid a location where Squealer stored spare parts.

The Merchants held on, mostly because their tinker had more tanks and Mush really is scary when he gets going, but I didn't like it. Neither the ABB, nor the Empire, set their capes into the skirmishing yet. Just a matter of time, though.

And I'm going to a concert.

The bad taste in my mouth carried the pungent flavor of bullshit and cosmic injustice.

And yet, still nothing from Piggot. The way Ramius told it she'd calmed down.

Because Charlotte was right.

People started complaining. In interviews and street reports men, women, and children talked about their frustration with the state of the city. How the PRT and the Protectorate didn't do enough. Some complained about me too. Got my first official protest from Blue Cosmos.

They couldn't picket me very well, of course. They gathered at their headquarters, not far from Shanty Town, and had a rally of about two hundred people.

Made my blood boil watching that.

sys.v/ all clear

I raised my head and glanced around.

All clear. That meant the Haros didn't see any snipers, suspicious vehicles, or mysterious wireless networks.

My robots circled the area, all completely rebuilt. I'd remade two of my cradles as well, but not enough for all seven. Green rolled along at my feet, Lafter on the other side of me.

I wished I could ask Dinah questions.

Despite her insistence, I knew she still felt sick. She refused to say how many questions she'd asked herself, but she spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday sick at home, and Thursday she looked so pale.

I refused to ask her anything until she felt, and looked, better.

Which meant Lafter and I were going in blind.

"Let's go."

I knew the campus fairly well. Mom used to work there, after all. I took a route that led us around the sciences building. It sat a bit off from the main campus on a hill, so we avoided most of the crowds gathering on the other side.

From there we followed a tree line two blocks to the street corner. I figured the VIP's didn't need to wait in the main line—rather I hoped they didn't—and had their own way in. The tickets didn't specify.

sys.v/ left of the main line

I looked through Purple's cameras. Toward the Pavilion the line roping through the campus split into three leading to the main entrance. To the left of the three, ropes and guards blocked off another line.

Hard to see from a distance, but easy enough to see from above.

I led Lafter toward the Pavilion. As we went, I saw another roped off area on the other side of the line to get in.

Blue Cosmos denounced the concert as soon as it went public, and sure enough a hundred of them were picketing the place behind some police barricades.

"So, this isn't Country, right?" Lafter asked. "Because I don't do Country."

"It's not Country," I said.

I'd never listened to Canary's music, but she definitely didn't sing Country.

"And we're not going to be mind controlled? Cause I don't like mind control."

I'd looked into the possibility. According to the laws governing capes and commercial pursuits, Canary would need to submit to regular examinations, and polygraphs conducted by thinkers. Masters got a lot more scrutiny than other capes. She'd been singing for two years now, so the PRT would have cleared her to keep doing so three or four times now.

"If she used her power to do that the PRT would have caged her a long time ago."

Heads started turning as we approached the line. People shouted our names and took pictures, but no one got out of the main line. Green did a short hop at my side, his hand popping out. I took the tickets from him in the brief moment before he fell.

The guards at the front of the roped off line wore full suits and glasses. More Secret Service? No, not out here.

"Names?"

One held a clip board with a pen, and I gave him a bit of a look.

"Names?"

Really "Newtype."

"And I'm Laughter!"

"Alright." He glanced at my waist, and then Lafter's. "No weapons, not even for capes."

I frowned. "And if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen and if something were to happen it would be our jobs to deal with it. No weapons."

I saw metal detectors at the top of the stairs, and guards with scanners too.

No convincing him then.

Pink descended from the sky, drawing more cameras and calls my way. I surrendered my beam saber to her, and Lafter did the same.

We walked through the metal detector, which of course dinged Green, but the guards shrugged and let him go.

The guard waved us through, and we ascended the stairs. One of the women at the ticket booths checked our tickets and told us where to go.

Her instructions led us to an unpopulated hallway leading to the left, while everyone else went right.

sys.t/ cameras?

sys.v/ ahead, five second gap

"Green."

"Okay, okay!"

Veda marked the spot on my HUD, and as soon as we entered the blind spot Green hopped up again. He jumped between Lafter and I, both hands holding out a saber.

We each took one and slipped them into our jackets.

Nice to finally have an excuse to wear it.

"Sneaky, sneaky," Green chirped.

"Sure, we won't get in trouble for this?" Lafter asked.

"In trouble for what?" I asked. "Everyone forgets things from time to time."

She chuckled, and we returned to the range of the cameras.

A lot of security, even for a public event. Count maybe warned someone, but if a cape came then PRT troopers and hired guards wouldn't cut it.

Lafter and I continued down the hall. A map showed the layout of the interior as a large circle. Green took a good picture for me to study, and I started looking for ways someone might use to sneak into the building.

At the end of the hall we came to a set of double doors. The auditorium spread out before us, a massive chamber slowly filling with people. The stage at the front rose about six feet off the ground. A few men fluttered about, setting cords and tying them down.

Our path led us along a rise in the very back. It circled the room toward a set of stairs, and to a door with a pair of guards.

"Names?"

We gave our names again and the guards opened the door for us. Inside, the room spread out, with a descending balcony overlooking the auditorium from right of the stage. Not a bad view, and lacking the crowding problem the areas close to the stage had. Everything looked freshly cleaned. Chairs and tables with screens in the back showing the stage.

"Newtype."

I turned from the window.

"Parian?" I asked.

She waved, dressed in one of her frilly doll costumes, a blonde wig, and a mask. Guess she didn't want to give up her cape persona. No point abandoning it even if her identity became known, not when her primary work involved doing shows.

"I didn't know you were a fan," Sabah said.

"I'm not," I admitted. "I got the tickets from someone."

She tilted her head to one side. "Someone?"

"The weird bodyguard lady," Lafter said.

"Her?" Sabah looked back, toward a door opposite the one we entered. "Oh, because of…Oh."

I flinched.

"Sorry," Sabah said. "I didn't mean—"

"It's okay. I wish I'd been able to stop him sooner, before he killed everyone he did."

"I watched on the news. You're okay?"

"I'm fine. What are you doing here, by the way? Giving a show during Canary's show?"

Sabah shook her head. "There's a room in the basement for younger kids, sound proof and such? It's so their parents can come to the concert and not worry and the organizer hired me to keep them entertained."

That made sense.

"I have to go down soon," she added, "but if you want any company." She turned to her side and nodded to a table near the back. Drinks and plates of food covered the surface. "Louise came with her boyfriend."

Louise? I spotted her at the end in a blue dress with a boy shorter than her.

"You know," Lafter mused, "No one ever asks if I'm okay."

Sabah and I both turned and she shrugged.

"Not that I'm not, I'm just saying."

"Right…Well, I should get going." Sabah stepped forward. "Enjoy the show."

And then she hugged me.

"And thank you," she whispered. "No one even bothers my father on the bus anymore." Her arms tightened. "You're real."

I froze.

Real? What did that mean?

She rushed off before I got a chance to ask.

"And you're sure you don't like girls?" Lafter asked.

I frowned. "Yes, Lafter. I don't like girls."

"If you say so."

Lafter glanced around the room. We arrived early, so there weren't many other people present. Louise and her boyfriend, plus a few other teens in nice clothes all gathered by the food. They kept glancing our way and whispering. A man in a white suit with two blondes, and an elderly man speaking with them. I didn't recognize the blondes or the old man, but the guy in the suit…

I pushed that aside, and turned back to the window.

The crowds filled in the auditorium. Tragedy, Dinah's vision said. What qualified as a tragedy for a newspaper? Just about anything really.

What if someone planned to attack the crowd, or destroy the entire building? Maybe I should have asked Dinah anyway?

The cameras covered all the entrances, even the side and emergency exits. Not a good way to sneak in. Someone who slipped in with the crowd? They'd need non-metal weaponry or a cape power. If only I could find Count, I could ask her what the hell she meant.

There's too many people here for me to watch all of them.

At least she got the security beefed up. Guards at all the entrances, and PRT troopers stationed at check points around the building. They'd prepared, but what if someone like Ali Al-Saachez showed up? He walked through preparations like they didn't matter.

"Well, well, well."

I stiffened.

That's-

I turned. Vicky smiled, arms crossed over her chest. Panacea stood behind her, pointedly not looking at me, along with Shielder and Laserdream. Or I guess, Eric and Crystal Pelham? None of them were in costume.

Fleur, she was on the ticket as a guest.

"Um…" I wanted to say something, but that's all that came out.

"Oh relax." Vicky stepped forward and put an arm around me. "No hard feelings. No need to fret so much"—she lowered her voice to a whisper—"Taylor."

I stammered. "How did you—" She smiled. Wha— "Fuck you, Vicky."

"Hey, you're the one who gave it away. I mean, how many tall rail-thin girls with long dark hair who've had unpleasant run ins with Shadow Stalker can there be in this city? Honestly, it's kind of obvious if you really think about it."

She figured all that out?

"Plus," she added, "I have a very good ear, and you're not hiding your voice very well."

At least she had the decency to keep her voice so low even I barely heard her.

"Seriously, Vicky?" Crystal Pelham shook her head. "You don't just do that."

Vicky laughed. "Oh, she got me shot, Taylor owes me!"

"I did not get you shot," I protested. "A—And don't say my name in public!"

"Hmm." Vicky tapped her high heel on the floor. "You saved me too, so I guess we're even."

She figured it all out? Shadow Stalker, Winslow, and me. Well, I suppose it gave a certain amount of vindication. If Victoria Dallon deciphered the clues, anyone else with enough interest could. All the more reason to go ahead and get Blue Cosmos to shut up, lest any of the facts get too much attention.

"You know she likes girls, right?"

My face burned red. "Lafter!"

I turned on her as she started laughing, pointing her finger at my face. The Pelhams and Dallons all stared as I stuttered.

"I don't like girls! Stop saying that!"

"But it's too fun! You get all worked up so easy!"

"You could afford to lighten up," Vicky suggested. "Honestly, do you ever smile?"

"No, no," Green, the little traitor, repeated.

Shielder and Laserdream for their part looked amused, but Panacea gave me a harsh glare. Harsh enough to startle me a bit. Did she have a thing against lesbians?

"Wait, you know Glory Girl?" Lafter asked. "And you didn't tell me?"

I raised my brow. "We go to the same school, Lafter. And you met her last week."

"School, right." She nodded. "I've never done school."

Shielder leaned in, asking, "Really? Not even before, you know?"

Lafter shook her head. "Nope. The sisters taught me stuff, though."

"Can't you go to school now?" Laserdream asked. "I mean, Newtype kind of threatened to screw any villain who even thinks about screwing with anyone and everyone seems to be sticking to it."

Lafter put one hand on her hip and waved the other. "Nah. School sounds like the novelty would wear off pretty quick."

"Lafter hates work," Green bounced up and down beside me. "Lafter hates work."

"I don't hate work you little sour grape. I just hate boring. Work is boring."

"I mostly see school as a social experience." Vicky glanced at me, still grinning. "You probably just see it as a waste of time, right? You never seem to pay attention in class, but I've never seen you get anything wrong."

Stupid power making school too easy.

"Oh, so you go to Arcadia?" Shielder asked. "I'm starting there next year. Maybe we'll see each other around."

"Probably not," I said. "I'm taking the GED over the summer." Vicky and her cousins both seemed surprised. "My power makes school redundant."

And after today, I never needed to set foot in high school again. Good riddance. The final week passed without much fanfare for me, but everyone else put on the show for the seniors while the next student council got elected in a rush.

Others watched us, more than I'd seen before. The room filled out with a dozen new faces quickly.

Charlotte.

She stood across from us on the other side of the room in a nice top and jeans. Carlos held out a cup to her, looking nervous as hell.

So she asked him, then?

Good for her. A normal girl her age should be doing that sort of thing, right?

I didn't recognize anyone else in the room. Not really my crowd, so no surprise.

Why are they all looking—

"Oh, is this where all the capes are?"

My head snapped around, along with the Pelham's and the Dallons'. Lafter leaned back and whistled.

Canary smiled and waved. "Am I invited, or does someone have to be a hero—"

"Oh, no!" Laserdream raised her hands. She looked about as flustered as I did with Lafter's teasing, but her voice stumbled a lot more. "N—no. You can come over if you want!"

"Way to make the family proud sis," Shielder mumbled.

Two celebrities in two weeks. The hell is that?

Canary laughed, one hand raising to tuck some hair behind her ear.

I felt it in her laugh. I think everyone did. Her voice sounded human, and yet it seemed different. Lyrical even when not singing, and possessing a pitch I didn't have words to describe. A subtle sound, but I felt it all the same. A small pull in the corner of my lips.

sys.v/ taylor?

Right.

I checked the small screen in the corner of my visor. My brain waves looked normal to the naked eye. A small variance, only point zero five off the norm. Her power affected people even when she didn't sing?

At least now I knew the monitor worked. This seemed as good a time as any to check and be sure.

"You're New Wave, right?" Canary asked, pointing her finger. "Sorry, I don't know all your names."

"That's fine," Laserdream said nervously. "I'm Crystal, and that's Eric, Victoria, and Amy."

"Nice to meet you." She turned her head my way. "And you're Newtype, aren't you?"

Is she talking to me yes she's talking to me. I nodded.

"And I'm Laughter! Hello!"

"You're cheery," Canary laughed.

It struck me.

We looked a bit alike. Canary stood tall, thin and willowy. Even in a dress that didn't perfectly conform, I noticed the lack of defined curves. A mane of long hair rolled down her back. Feathers grew in a line from her temples and sweeping back behind her head.

There were differences, but even our faces seemed similar. The way our lips seemed a little too wide, and our cheeks a bit too gaunt.

Why does she look so much better?

"Ready for the show?" Canary asked. She turned away from us, facing the whole of the room. "Sorry I'm a little late. This whole thing has been such a rush! I know the whole point of a VIP pass is to get special treatment, but I've been running around so much I haven't come up with much!"

She got some responses to that. She waved at the room with both hands.

"The show starts pretty soon, so I can't really hang around much. I promise to drop back by afterward and if anyone wants, I can show you around back and talk about how everything works!"

"Let's see, there should be about forty of you. How about this! I'll come by after a quick break at half-time and half of you can come with me then, and I'll show the other half around after the show? That sound good?"

Apparently, it did. The whole room lavished their praise and laughed.

Canary went around and talked to some other groups, including Charlotte. She signed CDs and autograph books.

Movement at the corner of the room caught my eye, and I slipped away from New Wave and Lafter. I navigated the room easily. The space more than accommodated the number of people inside.

The two agents—and they were definitely agents—tried to stop me, but she told them not to.

"Newtype," Relena greeted. "Count said she invited you, but I didn't think you'd come." She smiled. "It doesn't seem like your kind of event."

"It's not," I replied. "Where is she? There was something I wanted to ask her."

She should be around somewhere with her charge in the room.

"She's been rather busy making arrangements the past week," Relena said in a low voice. "We're leaving for New York tomorrow, and then it's back to Europe."

I frowned.

The agents carried themselves differently than the security I'd encountered thus far. They barely moved, and it always felt like their eyes were on me, even while they looked somewhere else.

Maybe not a great time to press my luck. The last two guys who guarded Relena died. I doubt they felt like entertaining me any more than necessary.

"You can sit if you like." Relena patted a spot on the couch beside her. "Everyone else seems a bit too nervous to approach."

I raised my brow.

Why not?

I needed to talk to Count anyway. Between the Haros and Veda I saw everything, and there weren't many blind spots that could function as entrances. One back by the loading dock where a camera appeared to be out, and another on a side door. The Haros covered them well enough.

Whatever whoever wanted to achieve, they probably entered with the crowd.

Veda started using the internal cameras for facial recognition sweeps right before the lights around me dimmed.

The lights covering the stage went out and small white orbs began appearing. They swirled, opening like flower petals and then bursting into whole new orbs. The colors shifted between white and pink, with a little blue and red here and there.

The beat started, and the crowd began chanting. A slow melody, almost melancholic.

The patterns continued, twisting and bursting into larger orbs of moving light. Flowers, and ribbons that moved in more and more intricate patterns.

I didn't see them set up any fireworks.

Fleur's power?

The beat stopped for a second.

"We once were as one but now nothing remains…"

I felt it, but more powerfully than when she'd spoken. And it didn't feel like I thought it would.

No thoughts invading that weren't my own.

No voice in the back of my head.

No images or ideas like something or someone wanted something.

As the words came out, and my heart rose in response…it felt more like she called to me. Bringing out something I already felt and knew.

A white lie or a promise of something more.

Simple words, but I understood them. They meant more to me than just sounds. The state of the world around me, and the disgust I felt looking at it. No, not disgust. Sorrow?

There's power in saying you're not afraid.

The question consumed me, drawing me into the music so deeply I forgot everything else. Even the room seemed to fall away.

When the song ended, I raised my head. Everyone else seemed completely enraptured, waiting for the next to start.

All the white balls of light exploded and swirled from the dark places on the stage. When I looked closely, I saw someone moving there, a shadow that preceded the light. Fleur, working her power for the show.

It didn't distract me for long.

I said I hated the world as it stood, but maybe…Maybe hate isn't the right word? Did I hate it, or did I feel such disappointment the anger overpowered the sadness? That felt so right, natural in its own way.

The way her words drew out the sense of despair, and the forlorn hope that came with it. Like the lyrics unraveled the anger in my chest to reveal what really lay beneath it.

Or is that just her master power, making me feel something else?

"She's very good," Relena said.

"Yeah."

"It's not my kind of music but, I can see why she's risen so quickly."

I nodded and used the brief moment to check the camera feeds and entrances. Nothing out of place or abnormal.

Lafter stuck with New Wave, and Charlotte and Carlos had joined them at some point.

"When is your speech?" I asked.

"At the end of the intermission. Canary was kind enough to give up a few minutes at the end for me to use the stage."

I checked the cameras sporadically, but the music kept drawing me in. It wasn't hard to ignore it if I wanted to. The effect drew back, like it didn't really have an interest in pulling me in.

Canary's power felt more like a door cracking and beckoning me to enter.

And it felt nice to enter. Especially after my week. Her next few songs were more cheery, happy and relaxed. Listening felt like the weight of the world lifting from my shoulders.

Am I really that stressed?

I suppose so. I'd spent most of the week dreading arrest and utterly failing to design a new suit. What would let me do better? What device, or weapon, let me keep all those people from dying the next time?

I spent hours bouncing between incompatible arrangements of ideas. I'd work one to near completion just to scrap it and start on a whole new one. Rinse and repeat.

Dad was stressed. Ramius wanted me to go to Boston to have my head examined by a team of experts. Blue Cosmos wanted a meeting tomorrow to talk about the lawsuit.

Too much shit on my plate.

So, fuck it.

I listened until she stopped.

The crowd cheered for more, and the stage fully lit again. I didn't see Fleur at all. Canary waved and thanked the crowd, saying she'd be back in a few minutes.

"In the meantime, I want to thank the sponsors for this concert," she announced. "We originally planned to have the show up in Boston, but things haven't been so great there lately. We intended to cancel before the Pavilion here in Brockton Bay was offered."

Two figures began moving just off stage.

I recognized the old man. I saw him talking to the guy in the suit with the blondes earlier. He leaned on a cane with one arm, while the man beside him held the other—

Dean?

The old man hobbled along, Dean constantly at his side with a worried expression. Canary approached them as they crossed the stage.

"So, a special and surprising thanks to Samuel Stansfield!"

What?

Canary handed the microphone to Dean. My jaw wasn't the only one hanging. New Wave all looked shocked, and I saw a few gaping mouths in the crowd as well.

Dean held the microphone with his free hand toward the old man, and I heard a faint "grandfather" echo through the room.

"Thank you, Dean," a deep and raspy voice said. "My grandson, everyone. So dutiful."

Samuel Stansfield chuckled.

"Ah, is that surprise I see? To be young indeed. The world can be so surprising, when you're young."

I raised my brow. Was he senile? Why would the big honcho of Blue Cosmos in Brockton Bay want to sponsor Canary of all people?

I checked on Navy's cameras. Sure enough, the protesters were still there. The hell did that mean? Did he sponsor the concert just to protest it?

"I suppose you're not here to listen to a tottering old man," he continued. "But I'm a very rich pottering old man"—which did he mean, tottering or pottering?—"so you get to listen to me anyway! I went to all the trouble here to say something. You should all really learn to cherish your elders, you know. It's easy for the young to forget they won't always be young."

Great, one of those "damn millennial" speeches. Just what I needed after getting my heart and soul tuned up into better spirits.

"And I suppose, it's easy to forget that everyone was young once, after you've put a few decades behind you. The time can pass so quickly, and I regret I find I've wasted most of mine."

His jovial tone vanished utterly, the last sentence carrying what I could only call pure despair. He hung his head, and went still and silent at once.

I sat up as the sound reverberated in the auditorium, and not just me. Dean looked down at him with an alarmed look, whispering "grandfather" too him.

"I regret, that with all the years god almighty has granted me on this world…I fear I've left behind less than I began with. And I fear that the burden of my failures, and the failures of those I've walked this long life beside will become your trials. The world is much different now."

"So much has changed. The PRT. Protectorate. Heroes and villains. Capes and Endbringers. This world I was given, I have not made any better for any who follow me in it."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back into the couch. People whispered around me, some looking proud while others looked angry. Far more the latter than the former.

Did he arrange all this just to insult Canary's fans?

"If I could go back," he continued, "and tell myself anything, I think I know what I'd say."

The grip on his cane visibly tightened as he spoke, his old voice firming up with each passing word.

"Do not give in to fear."

I leaned a bit forward.

"Fear is the enemy. Fear is sorrow. Fear is anger. Fear is hate. In the darkest moments, the weakest of us give in to fear, and how little I find we've given back. So, I look at all of you, so many with all the years ahead, and I think that this may be the only chance I have to say the words I feel in my heart."

He raised his head, eyes gazing forward with enough fire I forget how defeated he sounded.

"Do not divide yourselves by where you come from, or what you can do. Stand together, for what you believe. For the tomorrow you aspire for and the dream you wish to bring forth to the world."

I went from slack jawed to agape.

He couldn't possibly mean that the way it sounded, could he?

"And should you in the many years from now find yourselves looking back on all the failures, then do not be afraid to stand before your children, and your children's children, and tell them the words that you hope will guide them on their way…"

"It's so easy when you're young, to think you know the path to the future. So easy to forget that, codgers though we are, we thought the same once. I can only hope now, to offer more in what time I've left. To give more than fear to the world. Thank you."

Canary stepped forward from behind them and took the microphone from Dean. The old man turned slowly, Dean suddenly stumbling to catch up and walk him off the stage.

What was that? All that stuff about fear, and not dividing— Talking about those beside him and how they failed. Did he just—Did he Call Blue Cosmos out? Why would he do that?

I saw the same questions on faces around me.

"How strange," Relena mumbled.

"What?"

"He reminds me of my father," she said, her expression warming. "He also felt he'd wasted too much time."

Canary announced the intermission, saying that the show would resume in thirty minutes. She walked off stage and returned to our room moments later.

"Hey everyone," she called as she held the door open. "Ready to look around backstage?"

"None for me thank you," Samuel Stansfield replied. He hobbled through the open doorway, still leaning on Dean's arm. "The old legs aren't what they used to be."

He took a nearby seat and sighed, while Canary gathered a group of twenty or so to take back stage. New Wave, Charlotte, and Carlos slipped into that group. I remained seated with Relena, Lafter sauntering over with two cups in her hands.

"Punch?" she asked.

"I'm okay." I watched the old man and trying to figure out the game being played.

"More for me," Lafter said. She chugged one cup, and then immediately followed it with the other.

Dean got his grandfather some water, and then sat down beside him looking a little frantic.

"Green," I whispered.

My Haro rolled across the floor and under the couch immediately in front of Dean and his grandfather.

"—n't understand," Dean said. "What are you doing?"

"Changing course, my dear boy. It's high time someone said a few things that needed saying."

"But wha—"

"Now, now." Samuel lifted a hand weakly and rested it on Dean's shoulder. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? You know it can't go on. There's too much at stake."

Dean looked pained. "But is this how you want to do it?"

"A message needs to be sent. Now, before it's too late." The old man laughed. "Relax. It's a concert. No need to waste away your time worrying for old me. Just give me a few moments rest, and I'll be ready to go. You stay and enjoy the rest of the show. Maybe ask that nice Canary girl out for an evening, hmm?"

"Grandfather…"

He's breaking from Blue Cosmos?.

Ramius called him a moderate, but she didn't make him sound like someone who'd lost his faith in the cause. So, wait, did that mean Dean's father would become the group's new leader? How did that work?

I pulled Green back, and my robot hopped onto the couch next to me. The Secret Service agents both scowled.

"Sorry?" I offered.

"Sorry, sorry," Green chirped.

Canary brought the tour group back eventually, and Relena rose from her seat. The agents followed her, and she spoke to Canary briefly.

Damn it.

I'd checked everywhere.

The rafters above might be a good place to lay in wait. Working Pink into the building didn't take much effort. The roof wasn't well guarded or covered by surveillance. She slipped into the ventilation by cutting a grate off one of the vents there and checked the rafters thoroughly.

sys.t/ nothing?

sys.v/ nothing
sys.v/ a dozen members of the crowd have convictions
sys.v/ perhaps they were hired?

Like the Merchants from before?

Veda scanned the entire crowd in two hours, and other than basic stuff she found nothing. I doubted anyone planned to hire basic thugs and crooks to kill Relena after Ali Al-Saachez failed.

A stranger maybe? Someone who could hide in plain sight. Or a changer who could change their appearance.

I needed Count. She knew something, or else she'd never bother warning me and beefing up security.

I didn't see any sign of her though. The songs came and went one by one, until Canary finished her last number.

"Are you alright?" Relena asked.

"She's just worried someone is going to try and kill you," Lafter said.

Relena frowned. "Again?"

"What are you talking about?" one of the agents asked.

I shot to my feet. "Count didn't say anything?"

"No."

"What? She told me—"

"Told you what?"

I turned, looking up at Count. She stood behind me with a smile, hands folded behind her back.

"You said—"

"She's saying you warned her about a threat on Ms. Peacecraft," the other agent charged. "We weren't informed of anything. If you have intelligence you need to tell us."

"I've told you everything," Count insisted. "And no, I'm unaware of any threat against Ms. Relena at this time. Though, I should warn you ma'am, Councilman Gordon has been arrested back home."

"Nobliss?" Relena asked. "Why?"

"The money used to hire the assassin came from one of his shell companies. That's all I know I'm afraid. The investigation is ongoing."

She caught the backer? But, then why did she—Did she just want me to come to a fucking concert?

The agents relaxed, giving me nasty looks.

"So, no punch?" Lafter asked.

Count shook her head. "It's time Ms. Relena."

"Right. Of course."

Relena stood up, and thanked me for keeping her company. I held my tongue, watching the agents lead her off while Canary entered the room for the second tour.

"You said there was a matter of life and death," I hissed.

"I did," Count replied. She took Relena's former seat and crossed her legs. "And there is."

I scoffed. "You don't seem very worried."

"Why should I worry?" The woman looked down at me, and frowned. "There is something, but I never said Ms. Relena was the target."

"Then who—"

Oh no.

My head snapped around, but I didn't see him.

I sprung to my feet and clambered over the back of the couch.

"Lafter!"

I didn't hear her response. I searched for Dean, but didn't see him. I bolted from the room and into the hall, drawing the blueprints for the building up. Where did people exiting the stage come out? The doors flung open before me as I ran, a hand pulling my saber from within my jacket.

I found them on the cameras, escorted by a woman in a suit.

Where? What is the att—

"There!" I pointed at an intersecting hallway. "Three men coming out of the bathroom, waylay them!"

"On it!" Lafter broke off from me, and I kept going.

Someone wants to kill him, someone from Blue Cosmos? To shut him up?

Why didn't Count fucking tell me that?!

At least the old man is slow. I'd catch up to him in—

"Greetings."

I didn't stop. The words echoed in the halls from the auditorium. Relena must have taken the stage.

"I find myself at an impasse. Mr. Stansfield to my surprise has said some of what I wished to convey."

Behind me and to the right on a parallel hall, Lafter approached the men as they ran. One stopped and turned, his fist shooting out at her. She dodged the blow and caught him between the legs.

He fell over, and she kept running as the other two broke into a sprint.

"His words are similar to some my father once spoke, after he watched his country collapse and burn. The world has changed, dramatically, and it continues to change every day. My world changed recently, and I find myself a bit lost. Two of my closest friends passed away, and I can't help but feel that it is my fault."

Lafter caught the other two boys at once, jumping and tackling both to the ground. They turned on her, one wrapping his legs around her waist and the other grabbing for her hair.

"It forces me to realize how powerless I am. How limited. People keep talking like I'm a great person, and I regret that I am just a girl."

Her head snapped back, blood pouring from the face of the boy behind her. His hold loosened and she blocked the other's fist as it came down. Her palm struck his jaw, and then her other hand hit him in the throat.

Both boys writhed, and Lafter threw herself back onto her feet

Three down.

"And yet, I still feel my own words. Words I am compelled to speak, despite the blood and the sorrow they bring on those I love. The words in my soul drive me to speak, to keep speaking to any who will listen."

I turned a corner, catching sight of Mr. Stansfield and his driver.

"Wait," I called. "Wait, you're—"

The driver looked back and scowled. She turned and kept going, almost dragging the old man beside her.

Dean didn't follow, his body twisting mid-step.

"Newtype? Is something—" He turned back as the driver began dragging his grandfather forward. "Greta? What are you—"

He stopped when he saw the syringe in her hand.

The voice continued to echo. I flipped my saber on, brandishing the blade of light as I closed the distance.

"People tell me that I'm naive for thinking mere words can change the world. Idealistic. Inexperienced. It's not that I disagree with those descriptions. For all I've done I am still young myself. And yet…"

The driver stopped, her lips moving to speak.

"Pink!" I shouted.

My Haro shot out of the vent above and slammed into the woman's head.

"And yet, I do not feel that I am wrong. The world is wrong, twisted as it turns on itself. All our weapons, our pollution, and our hubris that we are masters of all around us, and ourselves."

Mr. Stansfield stumbled back and lost his balance. I swung my blade as the woman fell. The saber struck her in the face and she screamed.

"There is not enough thought given to tomorrow. Even my father, for all my love, spent too much time in the past. Looking back at what has been lost instead of seeking what has yet to be."

I kicked the syringe away, and turned to Mr. Stansfield. He groaned, sitting up slowly, and looking up at me.

"And so, I ask of you, all the masses of the world who look out and do not know what lays on the horizon."

I fell back, a leg sweeping into mine and throwing me to the ground. The driver rose up, her hair a mess. The syringe—Another one?—turned in her hand and she pressed it down toward my face.

"Do not be complacent. Do not deceive yourselves into thinking that you don't matter. We are the world. All of us, together. It is us. My words, however naive, are not empty!"

My elbow swung up and the needle snapped against the concrete floor. Pink leaped off the ground and hit the woman in the side, and I swung my own leg into her thigh and pushed her over.

"And so I ask of you…"

I grabbed the woman's arm and twisted it behind her back. I straddled her back and got hold of her other wrist, holding both as she struggled.

"Are you satisfied, with this world?"

I flinched, my head turning in the direction of the stage.

Pink and Green rolled up beside me and began tying the woman up.

From the cameras, I saw a silent audience staring at the girl on the stage. She stared back, unflinching. Like she wanted an answer to her question.

Are you satisfied with this world?

I knew my answer, because I'd said the words myself, but hearing them out of someone else's mouth? Awkward.

I rose to my feet, and turned to Mr. Stansfield.

"Are you okay?"

"Y—Yes." He sat up slowly, hand reaching for his cane. Dean grabbed it first and crouched beside him.

"Grandfather! Are you okay?"

"Hey!"

New Wave flew down the hall. Three fourths of them at least. Panacea ran behind her cousins and sisters at a distance, looking a little winded.

Laserdream cast her eyes on the bound woman.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know." Mr. Stansfield held his hand out, and Dean quickly took it. He helped his grandfather up. "Greta said we needed to leave, and—And it's so unlike her. She—"

"What?"

I turned, looking down at the woman and the confused look on her face.

She tested her bonds.

"Hey? What is this? Let me go!"

She struggled and squirmed on the ground, Pink and Green rolling off to help Lafter. She looked up at me, and then past me to Mr. Stansfield.

"Let me go you freak! I'll sue you! I didn't do anything!"

I raised my brow. "You tried to stab me?" I bent down and carefully picked the syringe off the ground. "And before that, you were holding this against Mr. Stansfield's arm."

"What? I've never seen that before!"

I frowned. "Really?"

"I'll go get the cops," Vicky said. "Be right back!"

She shot down the hall, and I turned the syringe in my hand. I kicked it too hard. I watched on video replay as the syringe bounced off the wall and rolled right back toward Greta after I turned away. Sloppy. For all I knew she filled the thing with cyanide.

Not exactly the crime of the century, and how did she plan not to get caught?

"You're not very good at this."

"Greta, why would you try and hurt grandfather?" Mr. Stansfield leaned against Dean, who looked a lot more shaken than the old man. "Why would you—"

The woman looked horrified, she stammered something, but it wasn't words.

I shook my head. "The cops can sort it out."

I pulled the woman to her feet. Shielder flew to meet with Lafter. They gathered all three men together and he formed a blue bubble around them. Raising his hand, the bubble pulled off the ground, and together they met us at the entrance.

The PRT talked to everyone.

The three boys, all about my age, and Greta, all denied any wrong doing. I showed the troopers the security cameras footage however, and the sergeant agreed their behavior was strange. New Wave stood guard over them, while my Haros kept an eye on the crowd gathering around us.

The Blue Cosmos protesters in particular seemed interested. They'd all gathered around the area pretty fast. Probably heard something, or maybe they just saw Dean and his grandfather. The police and the pavilion security held them at a distance while the distant sound of music came from within the building.

"We'll take them to HQ for master stranger screening," he said. "Good catch."

"My thanks young lady." I turned, looking at Mr. Stansfield. He smiled, saying, "Always nice to have a hero around when you need one."

I turned my head to the old man. He seemed jostled, but unhurt. The first responders on site looked him over. They gave him the all clear, so he waited by the street with Dean while a car came around to get them.

"No one deserves to die," I said.

"Too true."

A car pulled up, police and guards making the crowd part so the vehicle could get through.

"Well, I've had quite enough excitement for one night," Stansfield said. He turned to the vehicle, Dean opening the door and helping him toward it. "I think I'll go home and—"

sys.v/ ! 47 degrees left
sys.v/ 9mm
sys.v/ !

My head snapped to the left, and my heart thundered.

"NO!"

I think I was the one who screamed.

Vicky blasted past me, the crowd barreling over as she tackled someone. The echo of thunder rang in my ears, and I watched as Dean collapsed to the ground. His grandfather fell against the car and slid, blood pooling around them.

Vicky threw the man to the ground and twisted his arm until the gun fell from his hand.

Her head snapped back around, and her face went pale. "Amy!"

The police started shouting, and PRT troopers raised foam sprayers at the crowd.

"Everyone back! Clear the area, fifty-yard cordon! Detain that man!"

I stepped forward, EMTs and Panacea rushing past me.

"Out of the way," Amy snapped.

She crouched behind Dean and Sam Stansfield's bodies. She looked between them, a frown crossing her face. Her hand reached for the old man first.

He shook his head weakly, eyes turning to his grandson.

Amy's arm changed direction. She pulled Dean's collar back and pressed her fingers to his shoulder.

No. Not again.

How? How did I miss that? I had five Haros in the sky watching everything, and I missed one asshole with a gun. One man, one gun. That simple?

Dean heaved, coughing up blood in a sudden spurt.

"Breathe," Amy said. "In and out."

He did as she said, pushing himself off the ground. Vicky landed next to him and crouched.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked.

"What?" Dean lifted his head and looked at her. I stood right behind Vicky with Lafter and Shielder. "What happened? I was—"

Dean turned his head. I didn't see his face, but I imagined it.

Amy pulled her hand away from Mr. Stansfield. She shook her head, and with a simple motion raised her fingers from his jaw and closed his eyes.

"Sorry," she said. "I can't bring back the dead."

"Hey."

I jerked back, turning to face Lafter. She didn't smile or laugh. Well, she smiled, but it wasn't happy.

I failed. I failed again.

Damni—

I pushed past Lafter, walking across the cleared entry area. The troopers and police started directing people, New Wave standing quietly while Dean held his grandfather's body.

"You," I hissed.

I stormed up the steps toward her. Did she follow us? Why? To watch?

My hand shot out, grabbing Count by the throat. I pushed her up against the wall and swung my saber out.

"You!" I screamed. "You knew!" She knew, and she jerked me around!

"Yes," she admitted.

"Why?" I snarled. "Why didn't you just tell me!?" I felt the first tear roll down my cheek. "I could have saved him!"

She knew, and she didn't tell me. Why? Why would anyone do that? Did she even have security in the building increased? If I just assumed that…

"You did save him," she said.

What? "He's fucking dead! What do you mean I saved him?!"

"Samuel Stansfield suffered terminal colon cancer," Count said. "Six months at most."

Count turned her head, and I followed her gaze. Dean leaned over his grandfather's body crying, holding the man's corpse while the EMTs and police tried to pull him back. He didn't let go till Vicky got down and pulled him off.

"Because you went running from the room, New Wave followed. Panacea was here to save him, because of you. Sometimes, saving people is simply a matter of place and time."

Dean?

My hold on her neck loosened. They planned to kill Dean too? Why? Because he saw them, or because he knew something? No. That didn't make any sense. None of it made any sense.

"A founder and his noble grandson gunned down," Count mumbled. "It would have been the perfect tragedy."

The perfect tragedy?

I turned Purple toward the man the police were pulling into a car. Her cameras caught his shaved head, and the tattoos on his arms.

Empire? Why would Kaiser—No. No Kaiser wouldn't do that. Why the fuck would he want to bring Blue Cosmos around his part of the city, protesting and shouting? That would be nothing but trouble.

A frame up. Someone wanted everyone to think Kaiser did it.

Samuel Stansfield dies, and someone sets the Empire up to take the fall. His driver was involved…An inside job? No, how did she fit into this at all? Why was it even necessary for her to have a syringe and what was in it?

"You did everything you could do," Count said.

I shook my head. "But—"

Count scoffed at me. "Did you honestly think saving the world meant saving everyone in it?"

She straightened her collar and turned on her heel. She left me on the steps.

I stood in place, realizing that no amount of swinging a saber would have saved Dean's grandfather.

Someone wanted him dead, dead enough to come up with something elaborate. And terminal cancer? Even if I saved the man tonight, he'd have died later.

Maybe Dean too if the plotter wanted that narrative.

So why is the old man all that mattered? Why did that one, inevitable failure, make me feel so helpless?

All I could do was run from a room, and let Panacea save Dean…

"Even Ms. Relena isn't that naive."