Montage 2.4

July 12th, 2007

Alone!

I woke up in a cold sweat.

Per Riley's instructions, I'd been sleeping with my power off to let my body grow more normally. My subconscious was taking the opportunity to send me some long-delayed nightmares about the Nine.

That was fine; I could handle that sort of nightmare. I stood, stretching and feeling the lingering soreness that Riley told me were growing pains. As customary, I recorded my height.

The lines on the door frame were a near solid black bar. No one ever accused Riley of not recording her data, and she'd stab me with one of her horse needles if I slacked off on the research. The process was incredibly stressful for a normal human constitution, but activating my abilities smoothed away the minor damage done in seconds.

On reflection it was odd that I healed at an accelerated rate but failed to age normally with my invulnerability on. It seemed to suggest a more 'conceptual' defense than anything logical, which was an obvious difference between my powers and a normal parahuman's.

I swapped pajamas for a coat and pants, then went to see the mad scientist.

She'd sulked for days about not being allowed to join the Wards, but Hannah and I were in agreement – no patrolling for Riley, and no PRT oversight. We were risking enough by registering her as 'Independent Tinker Pandora.' She accepted her situation eventually; if anyone realized her history as a member of the Nine, hers wouldn't be the only head on the chopping block.

Her lab had gone through an evolution over the years. While Riley may not have the sheer experience and the . . . organic resources . . . of the 'previous' Bonesaw, it wasn't like we were hurting for money. The expense account Hannah created for her was generous, though heavily reviewed.

It showed.

It no longer looked like a barn on the inside – at all. The less critical areas were lacquered wood while the rest were stainless steel, installed personally by her overly strong brother. The lab was kept meticulously clean at all times.

Or at least, it wasusuallyclean.

"Riley?" I called, frowning. "Why does your lab look like a murder scene?"

"Shh!"

I turned, raising one eyebrow. "New question – why are you cowering in a corner with a net?"

She glanced around cautiously, then set the net down. "To be honest, the net part's kind of been useless."

I gave her a Look. "Whyexactly?"

"Mostly-"

Poof!

A stack of books toppled and fell with a crash. I whirled -

Poof!

-to see an expanding cloud of black smoke.

"-because he can teleport," Riley finished, wilting slightly.

"He?" I asked warily, stepping into the corner. "He who?"

"Well," she bit her lip, "remember Mister Tawny?"

"My cat?" I stared at her. "The one you experimented on? The one you said ran away?"

"Hedidrun away!" Riley objected. "He just came back! And, well, you know how you wanted me to figure out the vials-"

"You used apower vialon mycat?!"

"Only one! And wedidneed to test it! You'll be happy to know, injection seems to work fine!"

Something crashed to the ground upstairs, followed by a startled yowl.

I groaned, pressing my forehead against the wall. "You realize that those powers are thekey to saving the world?! And that we only haveten?!"

"Hey!" She fired back, drawing herself up. "You asked for my help, and I say I needed an experiment!"

"Aren't experiments, you know,controlled?"

"Well," she admitted, looking miserable, "I really wasn't expecting him to expel the implant when he triggered."

Poof! Crack! Poof!

I sighed, running one hand down my face. "My first real cape fight was with theNine, my second is going to be with acat.Alright then, Pandora, how do we catch him?"

Riley positively glowed; for her, the cape name was still shiny and new. "Well, I have a tranquilizer, I just need a delivery mechanism. I implanted a remote, but he left it behind when he teleported off the table."

"So, basically, you want me to grab a syringe and stick it in a teleporting cat."

"Basically?"

"Great," I growled, striding over to the lab. "Which box?"

"There's a vial, labeled medetomidine hydrochloride. You want about half a milliliter."

Poof! Crash!

". . . You might want to hurry."

"Yeah, I know," I muttered, filling the syringe and turning around. "Here, kitty, kitty."

Poof!

Tawny stared at me, tail lashing and hair standing on end. I kept the syringe behind my back, not wanting to spook the cat.

"Hey, Mr. Tawny," I said, smiling at him. He cringed away when I knelt down. "You remember me, right?"

"Mraow!" Tawny disappeared in a cloud of smoke just as I lunged.

I said something unpleasant.

"Hey!" Riley objected, scowling. "I'll tell Hannah you swore!"

"Don't even get mestartedon what we're telling Hannah!"

Clearly, this approach needed refinement. I considered for a moment.

". . .Do we have any aerosolizing anesthetics?"

...

After many, many failed schemes – including one where I had to wait for the anesthesia to wear off on Riley - we finally resorted to drugging some food and waiting.

I felt like Wile E. Coyote trying to catch the roadrunner. If Yakkety Sax had blared from hidden speakers during the chase, I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised. Luckily, the cat stayed inside and seemed to calm down a bit when he realized he wasn't being ambushed.

Sucker.

Now, he was sleeping the sleep of the drugged and lying on an operating table. Riley had reattached the subcutaneous injector (with the assurance that this time, it wouldnotfall out) and begun her experiments (after I extracted a few promises about what she was allowed to do to my pet.)

I was still a little irritated over losing a precious vial, but eventually I saw Riley's point of view – an animal trial just madesense. Starting with humans would be morally dubious, no matter how we approached it.

Mostly I was angry about getting stuck with the cleanup.

"At least we know they work?" Riley offered hesitantly.

While she was making sure our lab rat – lab cat? – wasn't a flight risk, I was busy picking things up before Hannah got back home. Whatever ability the cat had, it could telefrag like no one's business. There was broken glass, cat shaped prints in the floor, destroyed filing cabinets – it would take me hours to clean up.

I ran one hand down my face, resisting the urge to glare at her. Have to remember, she's my sister and I love her. Theoretically. Maybe. On the good days.

"A-and it did give the expected result. The vial was 'Dimensional Fracture' and the cat started teleporting, so . . . progress?"

It's way, way too early for this.

"I'm going to go find breakfast," I told her resolutely. I glanced at the clock, then sighed. "Make that lunch."

...

There really wasn't much to do around here but hero work and helping Riley tinker. We were isolated out here, pretty far from anything remotely interesting. The neighbor kids were a tight knit group, and generally avoided us. Taylor came by with Emma a couple times, but for the most part it was just me and Riley.

Hannah had left yesterday, heading for some conference in New York. Before she left, she'd insisted on cooking enough food for the two days she was gone. I'd tried to tell her I could do it, but she and Riley had shouted me down.

I blame gender stereotypes.

Spaghetti. A simple, yet refined dish. The perfect breakfast/lunch for a worn out junior hero. I pulled my steaming plate out of the microwave, then sat down in front of the TV to watch some cartoons.

Before the fork even reached my mouth, my Wards pager went off.

Hand trembling slightly, I set the plate aside and consulted it. General readiness alert – they wanted me to head to base.

"Alright," I let out a breath, activating my powers. "This should be quick."

The current Wards team was made up of just four people. There was Vista, Diviner, Cognit (whose attitude hadn't improved at being left behind by his fellows) and me. That was two Thinker's, a Shaker, and a Brute. We weren't exactly balanced – strong, yes, but not balanced.

The lack of new Wards could be blamed on the lack of gang activity. With the Empire diminished and basically no other parahuman gang in town, there was no need to transfer heroes in and there were altogether less triggers.

I suspected Cauldron had more or less pulled out of the area; with me here, the outcome of any societal experiment became way less predictable.

As usual, I was the last to arrive. Even with superspeed – which was pretty badass as mundane transportation – the fact was that I lived outside the city, while the others tended to linger around the tower in their off hours. According to Miss Militia Claire actually lived in her room there, while Missy and Cognit just preferred it to hanging out with their families.

I was starting to think that every parahuman had a screwed up home life.

"Sovereign," Cognit said, scowling. We were the only ones in full costume. "Good of you to join us - finally."

Missy snorted; Claire gave me a friendly wave.

"Traffic was bad," I told him, keeping my voice mild. "What's with the meeting?"

"Now that we're all present, I can start." Cognit tapped a button on his keyboard. "As you've all heard by now, Miss Militia and Armsmaster are attending a seminar in New York. As that accounts for over half the Protectorate's roster, there's a shortage of manpower. This presents a unique . . .opportunity."

Oh.

Oh, this was going to bebad.

"What do you mean?" Vista asked, looking interested.

"I mean that with them gone, we can get some serious heroics done and make arealname for ourselves." Cognit said, smacking his fist into his palm. "Battery is, ah, preoccupied, so the only one here is Assault and he's already approved my teamwork exercise plan."

That was suspicious; Assault, in a position of authority over impressionable superpowered youths? Battery was technically in charge of the Protectorate right now, so any 'order' her boyfriend signed would be basically worthless. Still, if she was gone . . .

"What, exactly, are we patrolling for?" I spoke up. Despite my reservations, this could be a good excuse to hunt for the Teeth; apart from their dramatic debut, they'd been surprisingly cagey about showing themselves. "I doubt stopping an extra mugging or two will really build our reputation the way you're describing."

"I'm so glad you asked," Cognit said, grinning. He tapped a key; the monitor changed, displaying newspaper clippings. "Over the last two weeks, there have been over six murders in the warehouse districts. The victims were crushed by someone with Brute level strength. The Protectorate has investigated, but nothing has been discovered so far. I've put together a pattern analysis and a plan of action."

"These murders," I said, leaning forward. "Describe them."

He frowned at me. "The bodies were crushed. Limbs were dislocated, bones broken, heavy internal trauma. Pattern of injuries seems to suggest coiling was involved."

I could see his plan; it was pretty transparent. "So in other words, you're going to use me as bait for a big snake."

Cognit hesitated. "Well – yes. It's not like they can hurt you. Vista will provide quick transportation around the city and keep the squishable civvies away, while you walk in and apprehend the bad guy. Then, we just have to bring them in and presto – instant accolades!"

This was a terrible, terrible idea, and I was going to tell them so.

"I'm in," Vista said, looking determined. "Parahuman murderers shouldn't get to walk free."

Diviner hesitated, then nodded. "As long as I'm not on the front lines."

"You won't be," Cognit assured her. "You'll be with me, coordinating."

All eyes turned to me, faces expectant.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Damn peer pressure; I'm in."

...

"So, when they said they would back us up, they basically meant we're going to walk all over while they bark orders from the radio room."

"Yup."

Vista sighed. "Why is he team leader again?"

"Oldest."

"At least Diviner seems pretty cool. Kinda shy, but in an adorable way."

"I'm surprised you two hit it off," I said, checking the lock on the warehouse door. Sealed, and none of the windows were broken. "Have to admit, I was expecting some clashes."

She shrugged, then ticked off a location on her map. As promised in the briefing, Cognit had given it to us with little red circles drawn around likely areas. Lots andlotsof little red circles. Most of them were already checked off. "I dunno, she just has that little sister feel, you know? Let's move to the next hot spot."

Vista's face become a mask of concentration. Space began to warp and bend, which was incredibly strange to watch with enhanced senses. As one, we both stepped forward, and we were three blocks away.

"Believe me when I say, little sisters are apain," I told her feelingly. "Diviner doesn't go through your things and make ludicrous messes; therefore, she's not little sister material."

She shrugged and started to walk. "You asked."

Claire wasn't that bad, I suppose, and neither was Missy, but to be perfectly honest it would have gone better if I were on my own. Unfortunately, any perceived brushoff from me would probably alienate Vista for the rest oftime. She tried to hide it, but the self-esteem issues were almost palpable.

I never used to understand people this well. Was it the powers that were clueing me in, or was I just getting more mature? Noteverythingcould be about powers, after all.

While I was thinking deep thoughts, Vista was stepping around the warehouse. "Hey!"

"What?" I asked, snapping out of my fugue.

"This door's been forced," she said, pointing. Indeed, the handle was hanging on by a thread; something had practically torn it out of the wood.

"Good catch," I told her, opening it slowly. The interior was pitch black, the light shining through the door cutting a long rectangular slice out of the gloom. "You should probably stay out here."

"What? No way." Vista scowled at me. "I've been traipsing around all day, there's no way I'm going back now."

"It'll be close quarters," I warned her. Vista of the Bet-A might be able to handle it, but this one didn't have the same reflexes or control. "Also, you won't be able to see. The electricity is off; it's been abandoned for years, like most of the buildings in this district. If there is a bad guy in there, chances are they can see in the dark, and your flashlight's just going to make you a big, shining target."

She worked it through for a minute, looking indecisively at the open door; the partially dismembered mannequin barely visible near the entrance was probably what made up her mind.

"Fine," she growled, stepping back. "But keep in contact."

I nodded, then stepped inside. The door closed behind me, leaving me in near total darkness.

Not that it mattered much. Using my senses in the dark was one of the first things I'd figured out.

This place had clearly been storage for some sort of clothing outlet at one point. The place was filled with mannequins of all shapes and sizes, some even standing with all their limbs attached.

"It's like, Toy-Satan's meat locker in here," I muttered.

"What? Say again?" Vista asked, the radio crackling. I paused, then switched it to 'toggle.'

"Nothing," I told her, releasing the button. Stupid Protectorate and their cutting edge radios.

It looked like a tornado had gone through right before me. Crates had been splintered, mannequins had been shattered, limbs were scattered everywhere – and it went in a straight line. Like any dumb teenager in a horror movie, I followed the path of inexplicable carnage.

It let me through all the way through the warehouse, then through another door (also torn apart) into an old office complex. From the cobwebs and peeling wallpaper, it was also abandoned.

"This is why they pay me the big bucks," I told the building solemnly. "'Cause I put up with stuff like this."

Something shifted in the back.

"Please . . . don't."

"Hello?" I called, stepping into an office. Someone had torn the desk to ribbons, and the contents of the filing cabinet had been scattered everywhere. The couch was tipped over; behind it, something moved furtively. I couldn't quite make it out.

"Please just -go away!"

I swallowed, then stepped forward. "Are you o-"

The shadows pounced.

I only had a couple seconds to react, which I spent by being very, very still. Tendrils of near-invisible black wrapped around my arms, my legs, my torso. Some of them tangled themselves in my cape; others just squeezed around my neck.

Lovely.

Luckily, I recognized her. This was Sveta, only before she picked the name. Not-Sveta, then.

"I'm sorry," she said, voice muffled. "I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry," I assured her, "I'm al-ghrk!"

Bad touch! Several tendrils had reached across my mouth and around the back of my head like an impromptu gag. I just barely resisted the urge to bite down. Grimacing at the taste reminiscent of latex and Lysol, I pried it off, letting it coil around my arm with its fellows. "I'm alright."

"I – I don't want to hurt anyone!"

The mental image I had of the Case 53 that would become Sveta had fallen far short of reality. I'd thought it would be something like a face with hair trailing behind, but there were definitely organs on the main 'stalk.' If you hung her upside down, she'd sort of look like a demonic jellyfish.

"I know," I soothed, meeting her terrified eyes with confidence. "Don't worry, I can hel-urk."

As I pried the tentacle loose once more, I couldn't help but lament what had become of my life.

...

It wasn't easy to get Sveta out and into Riley's lab. Vista was diverted by pinning the blame on squatters; for the rest of the day, we patrolled empty warehouses and abandoned buildings. I found no sign of the Teeth. When it came time for me to come home, I instead made a detour to pick up a clingy parasite. With her stuck to me like a ball of dark, malevolent silly string, I couriered her home as fast as I could.

"Is this where you live?" Not-Sveta asked, voice quiet. She kept her head behind me, under my cape.

"Yup," I told her, opening the outer door to Pandora's Box. "Just remember, concentrate onmeandonlyme. Grip as hard as you can. Riley! I need your-" I paused. "Are you actually cleaning, or did you just pick up that broom when you heard the door open?"

"Cleaning, of course," Riley said, chuckling nervously. She turned around, then stared. "Um, I don't want to pry into your, uh,proclivities, but . . . what-?"

"Case 53," I told her irritably. Not-Sveta shifted, face peaking sheepishly out from under my cape. "She can't control her powers, and needs a safe place to stay while we talk."

"Ooh!" Riley brightened, practically jumping up and down. "We finally get to use the primary containment cell!"

"Containment cell?"

"Don't worry," I reassured Not-Sveta, patting a tentacle. It thrashed at me, then settled around my torso. "We'll be able to help you, we just need to research a couple things. While we do, we'll keep you in one of the containment units so no one gets hurt. Is that alright?"

Not-Sveta hesitated, then nodded.

"Excellent - I'll give you the one right next to Mr. Tawny!" Riley said happily, pressing a control. The wall opened slowly, revealing three featureless steel doors and a row of cages. Mr. Tawny was awake and pacing, collar beeping red every few seconds.

I stepped into the first door, then stopped.

Riley considered my predicament for a moment. ". . . How exactly are you going to pry her off you?"

". . . Good question."

"Meow?"

". . . What's with the cat?"

...

After a few minutes of playing 'remove the tentacle' that ended up entirely futile, a few minutes of attempting to soothe Not-Sveta into latching onto a bar of metal, and finally a mild dose of carefully administered tranquilizers – plus a muscle relaxant - we got her into the cell.

At least we'd have a few hours to come up with a good story for the vials before she woke up.

I sat down with my bowl of spaghetti, now somewhat dry after being reheated twice, and patted the cushion next to me. Riley sat down with her bowl and began to eat. With an effort of will, I deactivated my powers, then raised a forkful of spaghetti.

The door opened.

"Riley! Joshua!" Hannah called, fiddling with her keys. "I'm home!"

"Mom!" Riley said, jumping up.

"Hey. Did you have a good time at the conference?"

Hannah swept Riley up into a hug. "Boring, for the most part. Got to meet Legend, which was pretty cool."

"Wow," Riley breathed. "I've always wanted to meet Legend! What was he like?"

"Cheerful as always." Hannah set Riley down, then walked into the kitchen. She stopped dead. "Joshua, I thought you were on dishes duty today."

"I-" - traded it to Riley for laundry duty - "will get right on that."

"What do you even do all day?" Hannah said, frowning. "I swear, I leave for a couple of days and nothing gets done. If you want to be treated more like an adult, you need to learn some responsibility."

Riley leaned away from me, paling slightly at the look on my face.

"Right," I said, gritting my teeth. Goosfraba, Joshua;goosfraba. "I'll - try to do better."

The microwave beeped. Hannah came back with a spaghetti plate of her own and a bucket of popcorn. She smiled at me. "That's all I ask. Now, if you finish quick, you can watch the movie I brought back with me."

I gave my sister a Look.

"I'll help him," Riley said quickly, standing up.

...

The movie was a stupid, unrealistic cape-flick, but that wasn't really the point - it was family bonding night, and we were supposed to spend those together. Strange; I hadn't expected to become so attached. The sense of unreality, the disconnection from the people around me, the semi-intrusive thoughts from my past life, they were fading as I got older.

It's strange; I'm not used to being happy and exhausted at the same time.

Riley feel asleep on me halfway through the film, obviously tired out from a day in the lab. I was in a similar situation, but I dare not close my eyes – if I did, Hannah would carry us both upstairs in a very childlike manner. I had my dignity to protect, even if Rileywasdrooling on my shoulder.

Then the pager went off. I recognized the strident tone of the emergency alert instantly. Hannah pressed the button, silencing it.

"Endbringer," she told me quietly. "They say Leviathan has been spotted near Anchorage."

Something froze inside. "You just got back."

"I know."

"You haven't evensleptyet."

"Yeah. I know."

"Let me go - I can -"

"No!" Hannah voice was almost a snarl, her eyes fierce. Riley stirred against me, halfway awake.

"I'm a Ward now," I told her defiantly. "That means-"

"It means you need a permission slip from your guardian," she said, standing up and pulling her spare costume out from under the couch. "Fromme,and I sayno. Stay here; take care of your sister. I'll be back soon."

"What's going on?" Riley asked sleepily, blinking and wiping her mouth.

"Sorry," Hannah apologized, kneeling down next to her. "I have to go, but I'll be home by the time you get up tomorrow. Be a good girl for your brother while I'm gone, okay?"

A flash of stark, primal terror appeared on Riley's face, then it was gone as fast as it came. "I-I will."

Hannah nodded, giving us one last look before heading out the door. Riley shoulders started to shake.

Not like this. I ran.

"Wait! Mom! Wait!" I called after her, heart in my mouth. She froze, car door open. "If you d-don't come back, I won't forgive you. I'll have Riley reanimate you just so I can lecture you. So, you have to come back, okay?"

Hannah stared at me, eyes wide and surprised.

"What?" I asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "She'll do it you know."

"You-you called . . . never mind," she said, wrapping her arms around me. "I'll come back; promise."

"You better," I told her, leaning into the hug. Hannah gave me one last, tremulous smile, then she got into her car and left.

I stepped back and watched her go.

I was sotiredof watching people leave.

...

Riley was still sniffling into a pillow when I walked back in. I sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug.

"I – I don't want to be alone," she whimpered into my shoulder. It was easy to forget that I was the older sibling, if only in mind now. "Please don't go."

"I won't," I said quietly, rocking her gently. "I won't."

I turned my powers back on as Riley fell asleep.

I didn't want to dream tonight.