(SciPol Officer Imra Ardeen and her friends get ready for the New Year, on an Earth without a Legion. An AU riff on "In The Beginning" (S2). Cautiously rated "T" for violence and language. Written for 1000GreenSun's Holiday Contest/Challenge. Comments and/or critiques welcome. I don't own any DC characters and situations and blah blah blah.)

Those Who've Flown Away

(Pt. 2 of 2)

12/31/05, New Metropolis

There was a large oval table floating in the middle of the room, somebody's concession to the Terran calendar, to the New Year's celebrations going on elsewhere in the city and planet-wide as well. Rokk Krinn added a small sandwich to the juice drink already on his plate. He wasn't very hungry, but it didn't pay to reject hospitality. He hadn't been to a gathering like this since his last season playing professional ball back home.

None of the partygoers were known to him, apart from the hostess, who was busy elsewhere. Once in awhile, somebody would glance at him and whisper to the person next to them. But if he met their gaze, the onlookers would retreat quickly without speaking. Rokk shrugged to himself. If the locals wanted to believe every bizarre story that the newsfeeds had spewed out about Braalians in the last few days, that was their problem.

So what was I supposed to do ? He finished his sandwich and immediately forgot what he'd been eating. Nobody at the agency would have listened to a nineteen-year-old off-worlder with that kind of story. Hey, I have this friend a year younger than me who can read minds, and she says one of the richest guys in the galaxy is a murderer. I know I'm just a 3rd-tier data analyst who was still in maintenance last year, but you believe me, don't you ?

The day after the rescue, he'd been fired from his job at the agency for "unauthorized dispersal of company technology in pursuit of personal enterprise." In other words, he had copied a set of detecting software for Garth and Imra without getting anyone's permission. That was how they'd gotten their second glimmer of what Roderick Doyle had in mind for his dead partner's relatives. Without a job or a native-born sponsor, he was scheduled for deportation in three days. Garth had lost his job as a security guard and Imra had kissed her career in SciPol goodbye; Leaving them in the same fix he was in, or worse. The two of them were close, and now they'd be pulled apart. Winath and Titan weren't exactly next-door neighbors.

I was supposed to do exactly what I did. Daggle was gracious enough to invite us here, at least. I don't know why I give a damn about the rest of them. He sighed and picked up another sandwich. One week out of bounds and it's like four-plus years of good behavior never happened. To hell with this planet, anyway.

There were no plants or flowers in the center of the richly textured white cloth. Instead there were five wooden cylinders, propped at a 45 degree angle to form a fan shape-- each as long as his lower arm and wide as his wrist, but hollowed out in the center and sanded on the outside until their sea blue exteriors were smooth as marble. Various letters in an alphabet he couldn't read ran parallel to the axis, painted on in white. The interiors were white speckled with more blue. The overall effect at first glance was flocks of birds flying off somewhere. Or sea spray, depending on where he focused his eyes.

"One for each year since my brother was killed." Ji Daggle had moved silently to his side while he'd been lost in thought. She wore a pale yellow suit with a high black collar and elaborate black embroidery around the hems and sleeves. Her small, flat cap was also yellow. "Those characters are his name," she pointed to various lines on a cylinder. "Clan, date of birth, and date of death."

Rokk nodded. "If you don't mind my asking, is your nephew's mother represented here as well ?"

"No." She refilled her drink glass. "Zhay died nearly ten years ago, from the same illness that trapped my brother Ren in his humanoid form. Our culture teaches us that the soul of a murder victim stays weighted to the ground until the murderer is caught." She looked thoughtfully at the centerpiece. "Once we get home to Mirwan, there'll be a ceremony where we'll burn these carvings. A declaration that his soul has finally been set free."

She sounded so matter of fact, but Rokk supposed that she'd given this speech to any number of near-strangers before him. "Thank You for telling me."

She nodded, adding more softly, "Thank You for making it possible. I'm very grateful to you three. We both are. In fact, the reason that I wanted--"

The lift bell chirped behind them.

"Imra !" Rokk waved.

She bowed her head to the two guards, who returned the gesture before getting back in the big glass oval and disappearing again. Like their colleagues strolling around upstairs, the two men who had brought her here were in civilian dress suits. Still, their large U.P. badges, not to mention their unconcealed firearms, marked them as a different animal than the blue-clad security normally found at the Superman Museum. There seemed to be almost as many guards as guests;The United Planets' way of saying Sorry. Better late than never, right ?

He quickly put his plate down and ran over to embrace her. "You look wonderful. How's your arm ?"

"Rokk !" She smiled and hugged him. "It's fine now." Her cheek was still cold from the outside air. "Where's-- ?" He pushed her away just in time to stifle a sneeze and rub at his nose.

"Sorry."

"You did get pretty soaked the other night."

A shrug. "It could have been worse." He watched her pick up a few star-shaped crackers and several carved pieces of raw vegetables. "Is that all you're having ?"

She smirked a little. "Looks like more than you're having." She turned to the Durlan. "Ms. Daggle." They shook hands. "Thank You for sending this to my apartment this morning with your invite." She fingered the cloth on the short red dress with its high, white collar and square neckline. "It's beautiful." She looked at Rokk's immaculate gray suit with the soft purple tie. "You look nice yourself."

He grinned. "Ask Ji how she knew our sizes."

"Don't have to." Imra took a bite of green vegetable as Ji smiled and tapped her own forehead. "No more bindings." Imra said, looking pleased. "How did you manage it ?"

Without them, the Durlan woman could scan a physical form as easily as Imra could scan a mind. "I think your friend Tanaka finally yelled at somebody who was willing to yell at somebody else." The two women laughed.

"Was that it," Rokk asked. "My money was on SciPol being embarrassed because of that one reporter at Galaxy-Planet who kept talking about the policy. Imra, isn't he a friend of yours ?'

"Condo Arlik ? No. A friend of a friend, sort of. You remember Lyle Norg ? He taught my chem course at the Academy. He also left me a message on my com right after we got back from HQ the other night. It was a pretty impressive rant for such a normally calm soul."

"Wait... Isn't that guy about the same age as Ji's nephew ?" Rokk reached for a cookie off one of the trays on the table.

"No, not that young. He is kind of a prodigy, or super-genius. That's what everyone says. I'm still kind of amazed that he stuck his neck out like that. So did Gim Allon and Hart Druiter. I know them, too, but we haven't seen each other in ages."

Ji shook her head and refilled her juice glass. "Imra, is it just my imagination, or does SciPol here make a habit of keeping super-powered officers... away from one another."

Imra rolled her eyes. "It's official policy in all but name. For longer than I've been-- was, an officer."

"Maybe there's something that...." Ji sighed. "You know, I'm not really a delegate or a diplomat. Those will need to be selected when there's formal relations between Durla and the rest of the U.P. again. In the meantime, everyone looks to me because my brother was so influential. I'm his only heir who's at a universally-recognized age of majority." Her eyes flickered around the room restlessly. "Maybe there's something I can do to help."

"Those wheels grind pretty slowly." Rokk shrugged. "I don't know what you can do for us in particular, but it sounds like you haven't been doing so badly in general," Rokk said. "I've been watching the newsfeeds."

"Perhaps." Ji sipped from her glass. "Wazzo's people seem reasonable... so far. We'll have to see what happens. Doyle may have had... other intentions when he talked us into coming here, but that doesn't mean the stated intention was-- is bad."

"I wonder if Reep is still talking Garth's ear off downstairs." Rokk couldn't help smiling as he tried to lighten the mood a little.

Imra raised an eyebrow. "What ?"

"Oh, you'll love this." Rokk got himself a glass of water. "Garth made the mistake of telling the kid that he used to work security at the Metro Sound Museum downtown. Some gang called The Scavengers tried to break in last year," he explained to Ji. "I had just been promoted by my agency, and they sent me down there with a delivery just in time for the attack. You remember, Imra. Some of your people were part of that adventure, too."

"He means that's how the three of us first met," Imra told Ji.

"So now Reep's decided we're both detectives or something." Rokk shook his head. "The only 'detecting' I did that day was dropping a metal light fixture on some idiot's head when he tried to flee the scene."

"Garth does tend to embellish sometimes." Imra smiled and took a bite of cracker. "If he got cornered, it serves him right."

"I managed to sneak away and back up here after the first twenty minutes. One of the guards saw me, but he kept quiet. I think he felt sorry for me."

Ji was laughing. "I honestly don't know how that boy got hooked on those awful crime books. Some classmate who also spent a lot of time in spaceports, I suppose."

"Should we borrow some of your detail and go save Garth ?" Imra put her empty cup and plate down on a passing nul-grav bus tray.

Ji nodded and motioned to a pair of the guards hovering a few meters away. "Tell my nephew that it's getting close to his bedtime, if you don't mind bearing bad news. He'll insist on trying to stay up." She motioned at the glossy white clock between two of the lifts. "Over three hours to go. He'll never make it."

Rokk smiled. "I had to give that lecture to my kid brother back home more times than I can count. Consider it done." He took Imra's arm and they headed for the lift, the guards at their heels. One of them spoke into a wrist unit, alerting their co-workers already downstairs.

How are you feeling, by the way ? I don't just mean your sinuses. Are you all right with going back home, Rokk ?

I'll have to be. It'll be nice to see my family again, but finding work is going to... He groaned a little. I was supposed to be helping them, not living off them. Not at this age.

Hey, don't hang your head, all right ? We did well. You know we did.

Some of that was due to Doyle being greedy and getting careless. He had a pretty low profile for a few years there, until he got overconfident. Not to mention sadistic. Why else would he have picked poison gas in the first place ? Those are the things that really tripped him up.

The lift doors glided open and they got on with the pair of guards.

It only looks that way because he got caught, Rokk. If we hadn't been there... Maybe somebody would have put it all together later. But maybe not.

You think Doyle killed R.J. Brande, too ?

I was in his mind five days ago, Rokk. I know he did. Whether he'll get punished for it... that's something else. She sighed. All I'm saying is, I couldn't get in a time bubble and go back;Be on Brande's transport instead of a different one, any more than you or Garth could. What's past is past.

Yeah, all right. Let's go drink our toast to the future, and to making the galaxy a better place.

Imra nodded and squeezed his hand. The lift door opened and the two guards stepped out, waiting for their charges to walk out before quietly following behind them.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

"So where is she now ? Ayla, I mean."

Garth leaned further over in the blue chair and looked around him. "We never found out. Nobody knows what happened after the lightning blasts. Part of the reason I came here in the first place was to try and find her. Or find some people who might know the best way to look. It didn't happen, and I needed to work. So..." He had his hands in the jacket pockets of the slate-blue suit Ji had given him. It was the best-looking thing he could recall ever wearing;Certainly the most comfortable suit. Lose your siblings, your job, your girl, gain quality formal wear. A guy has to take what compensation he can get in this life, I suppose.

"Not knowing is awful." Reep looked at his feet. "I'm sorry."

"Kid, just forget it. Aren't we supposed to be ringing in the new ? We're allowed to be happy once in awhile, you know." He motioned at their silent shadows with the dark suits and guns. "Look, just because these guys never smile doesn't mean we have to imitate them, does it ?"

"I guess." Reep pulled his knees under his chin and looked around, considering. "Have you been here before ?"

"The Museum ? It was the first place I saw when I stepped off the transport and into the city. That was... a while ago."

Reep stretched his legs back to the floor. His suit was sand-colored, with a circle of red-brown stitching at the collar. "I came here with Dad once, a long time ago. I was such a little kid." A wave around the room, at the dozen-plus images of Superman. "I wanted to know why there were so many of him. So Dad told me that each one was from a different reality;And that if you're one way in this reality, you are-- will be, in all the other ones, too."

"You think so ?"

Reep shrugged. "Dad told a lot of stories. I was never sure which ones he meant and which ones he didn't. I still can't decide if that's a really cool idea or... just..." He yawned and leaned back in the chair. "But... I'm glad he's free. Ji says now he can fly again, to the stars he built or to anywhere he wants. He waited a long time..." Reep closed his eyes.

Garth ran a hand through his hair and considered that for a few minutes. He picked up his nearly empty glass from the floor and gestured at the image nearest to them. How about it, Son of Krypton ? You were here first. Any good answers ?

This city, this planet, its people-- all crazy. He put the glass down again. Why do so many of us wind up here ?

It was quiet, apart from piped-in music somewhere upstairs and the tapping of feet on the huge polished floor as the guards walked back and forth.

Are we... fated ? Is that what the kid's father meant ? Fated to love this place;To try and defend it no matter how often it slaps us away ? Are we crazy, too ?

Garth heard soft bells as a clock near the front entry struck nine.

Guess you never figured it out either, huh ? The lift behind them chimed and its doors slid open. He turned around, putting a finger to his lips as Rokk, Imra and their watchers filed out into the room. "Shhh..." He motioned to the chair next to him.

Imra chuckled. When did this happen ?

About five minutes ago. All the guards nodded at each other, communicating as silently as the three friends. Seriously, does U.P. Security have more than one collective expression ?

They're not paid to, Rokk quipped.

So how about we go and get that drink in mid-town ? We can be there in plenty of time for '06 to start if we get rolling now.

We should say our goodbyes to Ji, Rokk reminded him. It's rude not to, don't you think ?

All right, but let's make it quick, huh ? I don't want to spend all night surrounded by pictures and statues and stories of some old legend. Do you ? If you ask me, what this world-- what all our worlds need-- are real heroes.

Your point being... ? Rokk motioned to their original two guards. Garth tapped the sleeping boy to wake him up. Then the six of them moved back towards the lift.

I think I have an idea what he means, Imra said. But let's discuss that upstairs.

"Hold my hand, Kid," Garth said.

Reep yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Is it too late ? Did I miss it ?"

"No. It's not too late." Garth smiled without even being sure why. He wondered how Imra could know what he meant, given that he wasn't even sure himself. I'll never understand this planet, but I don't want to leave it. Yeah, I must be crazy, too.

Imra heard him, but didn't say anything. She just pressed the button, then took Garth's hand on the left and Rokk's hand on the right. The bell chimed and the doors were open again.

End

("Those Who've Flown Away" is a song from Ruthie Foster's CD Full Circle. I'll put the lyrics up on my LJ shortly, in case anyone's interested. Tanaka is my OC. Nearly all the rest are borrowed, and hopefully somewhat familiar. Thanks for reading.)