I have chosen in my adulthood not to dwell too often on the events of my early childhood. While one can not deny the impact that one's early years plays on their development; I feel that far too often it is used as an excuse for weakness. I don't talk of these events to illicit feelings of pity or to make excuses for the path I have taken in life, for I am very aware of the things I (we) do. I understand the weight of these actions and accept any punishment or recourse brought on by them. Freudian psychoanalysts, sociologists, or others may think they can pinpoint why it is what I do; and that is fine. I don't care. It doesn't matter, because I am me and I am here right now.
My mother was 20 when I was born. She'd dropped out of high school at 16 when her mother died of emphysema and spent the next three years traveling the country to find a purpose in life. Then I came along. While she did seem to have affection for me at times she seemed more interested in the behaviors that left her a poor single mother in a poor town in the first place. The house not only filthy was also cold in the winter and scorching hot in summers. Meals consisted of whatever was laying around the house or bought at the convenience store around the corner. Mother seemed to go there quite often to buy the bottles of cheap wine from the creepy long haired man behind the counter. Sometimes she'd have me sit and wait on the counter while they "looked for something in the back". This seemed to happen when she "forgot to bring her purse." She did try to work but never seemed to work longer than two or three weeks at the same job. We got by on government assistance, running from landlords and the kindness of her men friends that would come and visit her late at night. She would lock me in my room when they came over. I always worried that they hurt her; why else would she lock me in my room
I had no friends and my babysitters were usually old shut-ins that chainsmoked and hit me if I made a noise or touched things. When I was old enough to take care of myself (in my mothers opinion that meant out of diapers) she would leave me alone in the house to fend for myself. I spent most of the time in a corner crying.......hungry. As I grew older I learned to take care of myself and even the house. I still cried. Often. I would sometimes go days without speaking to another person. School came as a huge relief to my mother because to her it was a free babysitter and I would be out of the house. She seemed to be out of work a lot more when I started school and there seemed to be more "male friends" stopping by even during the day. While I did well in school (reading was a favorite subject) I didn't socialize well with other children. I wasn't used to being around them, until my sisters came when I was seven. Mother had called them Her "other happy accidents" and seemed thrilled when they came. Of course I was left to take care of them.
After a few more years of unemployment and many "male friends" mother introduced us to a "special" friend, Stan. They had met at Mom's new job and we were going to move into a big house with Stan. Times were good for a while. We ate better and the conditions in the new house were much more comfortable. I still took care of the twins as they would go off for days at a time or stay locked up in their bedroom after nights out with their friends. Stan was a petty criminal on the side but didn't prove to be very good at it. He had several visits from policemen and detectives. He would even spend weeks away from us. Mother would always say "Stan, had to go away for a little while, but he'll be back." Like I cared. It turned out Stan had a penchant for overdrinking and his drunkenness usually led him to beat my mother or me or both.
At ten my mother beat me for the first time. The school was suspending me until they had proper immunization records. She had plans this week and didn't really have time to take me to the doctor. I had never seen a needle before and I was ten years old. It was torture and I screamed all the way home and locked myself in my room. Stan came home in a great mood, he had finally made the right connection with the right people. He came in a kissed mother and explained he had a courier job that was going to make them great money. Why was the old one crying, he asked. The door shattered open when he realized it was locked and he drug me still screaming and hurting from the doctor into the living room. "Get the twins, stupid, bring them to the living room." We gather in the living room. Mother and I sat on the couch and the twins sat on the floor under a hanging fern. Stan stood in front of us with mania in his eyes. He explained that a very important man is paying him a lot of money to carry a small box to another very important man. He held the small cardboard box carefully as if it were an egg. He went on to explain that under no circumstances are we to touch the box it was dangerous (or at least the men who wanted him to carry it were dangerous). He would be taking it in the morning to the man and he would get his money. He lit a cigarette and poured himself three fingers of bourbon. He grabbed my mother and groped her as they went down the hall to their bedroom. "And stop crying you little baby!" He screamed as he carried my laughing mother down the hallway. Tears filled my eyes and rage filled my heart. I walked over to the box and picked it up. It was light and whatever was inside contained a liquid. I rubbed my throbbing injection site, picked the box up over my head and threw in to my feet. It made a sickly crunching noise, much louder than I expected. I had just barely seen the bright green liquid seep out of the box when the vapors overtook me. I would have passed out from the fumes had Stan not heard the breaking glass, run down the hall and literally punt me across the living room. In his screaming tirade he beat me like no other time before and probably would have killed me if not for the fire that was now blazing two feet from the twins. He had spit out his cigarette as he was screaming about what I did and what the people he works for will do to him. And in his anger he put out the fire by smashing the fern and pot onto the fire. One ran away as the other lay entangled in the fronds. Bruised and bleeding I limped over, removed the plant from my screaming sister and picked her up. I grabbed the other twin and went to their room and locked the door. I listened as the coward alternated screaming at my mother about her worthless children and crying like a child at the thought of what they would do to him. I heard my mom cleaning the living room. I felt ill......feverish...I broke out in a rash. My throat was soar and swollen. I could not sleep for the aches and pains I felt. Red dots would appear on my body and vanish almost as soon as I discovered them. I itched, coughed, sneezed, vomited and cried through the night. In the morning I felt better.
I walked into the kitchen where Stan was having his morning coffee. He looked at me with contempt and hatred. I touched him on his cheek and smiled. He pushed me away but I still smiled. Later that day Stan noticed a black patch forming on his right forearm and small red bumps with white centers on his neck. At 5:00 my mother's screams rattled the house. I walked into their room as my mother cried over his body desperately trying to dial 911. . She begged them to send an ambulance in a hurry as her husband wasn't breathing. Stan was dead.........Bubonic Plague. (Something that would baffle the doctors at the hospital)
We waited for the ambulance to arrive even though it was obvious Stan was gone. My mother lit a cigarette and sat on the front steps of the house waiting for the authorities to arrive. I sat with her and watched her as she began to break down. I touched her hand and she looked down with pride in her tear soaked eyes and took me in her arms and embraced me........I just smiled.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Part 23: A conversation in a library
"Your journey was comfortable? I hope." said the mysterious dark stranger "I am Corrupt Echo, welcome to our home."
I didn't know whether I should thank him; I just nodded. It wasn't really a kidnapping but I also wasn't really sure why I was brought here. The base seemed to be a converted warehouse or industrial building. The walls were simple brick with large pipes (for steam or sewage? I couldn't tell) skirting along the walls. The floors though were a beautiful hardwood very new and very well maintained. The hallways were large allowing you to see into other areas all of which seemed to have television monitors, computer equipment and laboratory wares. There also was what seemed to be heavy traffic for a base. The ones I've always visited or raided never seemed this busy. (They must be up to something. Am I safe?) On a couch watching a large monitor were two women of vastly different proportions. One was buxom and Amazonian in stature adorned with chains on her arms and boots. Next to her was the reed thin kidnapper, Yellow, I had seen previously. They seemed interested in a local news cast. Local authorities do not know who stole this magical tome from the gallery but the Rogue Island Police say they have leads. This made them laugh out loud. I didn't want to know. A short cloud of darkness passed in front of me and I could see under the negative shroud the outline of what looked like a teenage girl. A pink blur flew past at blazing speed, silver tendrils seemed to drain from the dark body and go into the pink body that now stopped as it changed directions. The dark one (wearing a similar outfit to my teleporter....must be a group uniform) looked like a slow motion replay during a sports event. The pink blur shot off in the new direction even faster and I heard what sounded like cartoon laughter.
"Damn you demented little pixie! Blight, can you stop her?" she said still trying to run but going only inches per minute. Then, Yellow I guess Blight, simply pointed a finger (still relaxing on the couch) at the blur. What looked like the root of a tree just barely peaked out of the ground just enough to send the pink ball of energy toppling into the wall just missing a bank of computer equipment. Coming to rest, upsidedown, was a tiny pointed eared creature. Fey in nature I assumed. It stood up and brushed itself off as the booming voice came from somewhere in the next room.
"What is going on in here? The pixie again?" Red appeared from the other room, something that looked like an infirmary. "Innocence Shattered, stop siphoning peoples speed! How many times have I told you?" the little pixie laughed and ran off into another section of the base, her cartoon laughter echoing through the halls. "And Blight, clean that mess up now before it keeps growing." Yellow (Blight) pointed the same finger at the plant and it withered immediately. A fireball from the other hand vaporized it into a puff of smoke.
"Sorry, Sis." she said and laughed.
"Ok, just be more careful..."
"But Gashes asked me to stop her and I......"
"Enough Blight." then her attention came to us "Is this her guest?" The dark man shook his head. "I'll take her to Pox.....Come with me, miss."
The dark stranger looked at me, "I will leave you with Codename-Singe now, thank you for your cooperation and very nice meeting you." Again I nodded.
We walked forward down a short hallway decorated with trophies from their obvious exploits/thefts/adventures/misadventures (to be honest I wasn't sure who or what I was dealing with). I did recognize that they had items from groups I myself had fought in Paragon City. A rifle from a Nemesis soldier and I believe I saw a Rikti gun just as Red pointed me toward a sunken room to our right. It was a nicely appointed library filled with books and lit by Japanese inspired lamps. Leather sofas with a coffee table and magazines centered the room. When she saw I'd arrived Green stood and smiled.
"Welcome, welcome to our home, I am Codename-Pox." she walked toward me and held out a hand to shake. I just looked at it. "I assure you of your safety; you are my guest."
"Thank you nice to meet you." I said as I tentatively shook back. Her grip was tight and her eyes intense and she smiled at me. She was sizing me up. I had not noticed but a hulking man stood behind her in a corner, hood pulled over his face with arms crossed. As I became aware and looked at him, I felt a little tickle in my brain. A knock on the mind's door. (Thank you, Mother Mental) Door locked. He whispered into her ear.
"Thank you , Lord Malevolence, thank you. You may leave us now. Singe you too." her eyes remained on me.
"But...."
"We will be fine." she said in her smooth, calm voice as she looked at me. "Won't we?"
(What could she mean by that?) "Uh, sure, yeah of course." I said nervously. (Damnit don't look weak now. Its what she's looking for.)
"Please sit." she said pointing to a couch still looking me coldly in the eyes.
"Why am I here?" I asked.
"Maybe that is a question I should be asking you? Dont' you think?" she smiled.
"I'm here on business......construction. I'm here on behalf of my company to look into the possible acquisition of....."
"I find it very hard to believe that your concerns involved Dr. dier Schepper. Last I heard he didn't have very much expertise in construction or steel." eyes laser pointed at mine. Tension.
"Last I heard you called him father. That is just as queer. Wouldn't you think?"
She smiled and shook her head slightly in agreement and slightly in laughter. "Fair enough. Fair enough. Maybe you can tell me the real reason you are here, Mental Maden. Or is that Mental Maden2 ?" The left side of her face rose in a smirk of pure satisfaction. Our eyes unlocked as I looked down in confusion. She stood and turned away looking among the books on a shelf. "Surprised?"
"A little....." (What had given me away? )
"Don't worry, my associate couldn't get anything from you." she tapped a finger to the side of her head still facing away from me. "He told me you were here on business and your name was Stephanie Pembroke. I must say, your mental blocks are powerful, Lord Malevolence is quite a powerful mind controller." She turned toward me again grinning and held her hand out to reveal her information. "The professor was holding this when we took him." My file! The scientist picked it up just as they broke into the lab. I was relieved, I hadn't given anything away, not my mind at least.
"So you understand why I'm here, then?" I asked as she handed me the file. I inspected it. Good, all accounted for.
"Oh, I understand your motives but I don't know why you came here. Dier Schepper is an expert in metas but I fail to see what you could possibly think he has to do with your condition."
"Where is he? What did you do to him?" I said frantically.
She kept her cool demeanor as I became agitated. "Patience, Mental Maden. I like you. I do. Do you realize how dumb it was .....no I'm sorry..... how dangerous it was to come here. You aren't back to your previous security level; your powers are weakened. Hell there are some of our weaker members here that could take you easily. Anyway you have guts and guts are good enough. Yeah, I think I like you."
I clutched the file to my chest and stood. "I don't think there is anything you can do for me unless you can take me to the doctor....."
"I can't do that."
"And why is that?" she looked in my eye this time I could feel the cold heart that beat in her chest. Chilling.....frightening. She laughed.
"Sit please. Just indulge me for a few more minutes. I may be able to answer a few questions for you."
"About what?"
"Your situation. I can help you. But first I want to tell you about my father. And my sisters. And what he did to us." Her voice was velvety smooth. She had a seductive quality while talking that some speakers have. Not sexual but persuasive.....confident, powerful. A natural leader. I sat back down and listened..............
I didn't know whether I should thank him; I just nodded. It wasn't really a kidnapping but I also wasn't really sure why I was brought here. The base seemed to be a converted warehouse or industrial building. The walls were simple brick with large pipes (for steam or sewage? I couldn't tell) skirting along the walls. The floors though were a beautiful hardwood very new and very well maintained. The hallways were large allowing you to see into other areas all of which seemed to have television monitors, computer equipment and laboratory wares. There also was what seemed to be heavy traffic for a base. The ones I've always visited or raided never seemed this busy. (They must be up to something. Am I safe?) On a couch watching a large monitor were two women of vastly different proportions. One was buxom and Amazonian in stature adorned with chains on her arms and boots. Next to her was the reed thin kidnapper, Yellow, I had seen previously. They seemed interested in a local news cast. Local authorities do not know who stole this magical tome from the gallery but the Rogue Island Police say they have leads. This made them laugh out loud. I didn't want to know. A short cloud of darkness passed in front of me and I could see under the negative shroud the outline of what looked like a teenage girl. A pink blur flew past at blazing speed, silver tendrils seemed to drain from the dark body and go into the pink body that now stopped as it changed directions. The dark one (wearing a similar outfit to my teleporter....must be a group uniform) looked like a slow motion replay during a sports event. The pink blur shot off in the new direction even faster and I heard what sounded like cartoon laughter.
"Damn you demented little pixie! Blight, can you stop her?" she said still trying to run but going only inches per minute. Then, Yellow I guess Blight, simply pointed a finger (still relaxing on the couch) at the blur. What looked like the root of a tree just barely peaked out of the ground just enough to send the pink ball of energy toppling into the wall just missing a bank of computer equipment. Coming to rest, upsidedown, was a tiny pointed eared creature. Fey in nature I assumed. It stood up and brushed itself off as the booming voice came from somewhere in the next room.
"What is going on in here? The pixie again?" Red appeared from the other room, something that looked like an infirmary. "Innocence Shattered, stop siphoning peoples speed! How many times have I told you?" the little pixie laughed and ran off into another section of the base, her cartoon laughter echoing through the halls. "And Blight, clean that mess up now before it keeps growing." Yellow (Blight) pointed the same finger at the plant and it withered immediately. A fireball from the other hand vaporized it into a puff of smoke.
"Sorry, Sis." she said and laughed.
"Ok, just be more careful..."
"But Gashes asked me to stop her and I......"
"Enough Blight." then her attention came to us "Is this her guest?" The dark man shook his head. "I'll take her to Pox.....Come with me, miss."
The dark stranger looked at me, "I will leave you with Codename-Singe now, thank you for your cooperation and very nice meeting you." Again I nodded.
We walked forward down a short hallway decorated with trophies from their obvious exploits/thefts/adventures/misadventures (to be honest I wasn't sure who or what I was dealing with). I did recognize that they had items from groups I myself had fought in Paragon City. A rifle from a Nemesis soldier and I believe I saw a Rikti gun just as Red pointed me toward a sunken room to our right. It was a nicely appointed library filled with books and lit by Japanese inspired lamps. Leather sofas with a coffee table and magazines centered the room. When she saw I'd arrived Green stood and smiled.
"Welcome, welcome to our home, I am Codename-Pox." she walked toward me and held out a hand to shake. I just looked at it. "I assure you of your safety; you are my guest."
"Thank you nice to meet you." I said as I tentatively shook back. Her grip was tight and her eyes intense and she smiled at me. She was sizing me up. I had not noticed but a hulking man stood behind her in a corner, hood pulled over his face with arms crossed. As I became aware and looked at him, I felt a little tickle in my brain. A knock on the mind's door. (Thank you, Mother Mental) Door locked. He whispered into her ear.
"Thank you , Lord Malevolence, thank you. You may leave us now. Singe you too." her eyes remained on me.
"But...."
"We will be fine." she said in her smooth, calm voice as she looked at me. "Won't we?"
(What could she mean by that?) "Uh, sure, yeah of course." I said nervously. (Damnit don't look weak now. Its what she's looking for.)
"Please sit." she said pointing to a couch still looking me coldly in the eyes.
"Why am I here?" I asked.
"Maybe that is a question I should be asking you? Dont' you think?" she smiled.
"I'm here on business......construction. I'm here on behalf of my company to look into the possible acquisition of....."
"I find it very hard to believe that your concerns involved Dr. dier Schepper. Last I heard he didn't have very much expertise in construction or steel." eyes laser pointed at mine. Tension.
"Last I heard you called him father. That is just as queer. Wouldn't you think?"
She smiled and shook her head slightly in agreement and slightly in laughter. "Fair enough. Fair enough. Maybe you can tell me the real reason you are here, Mental Maden. Or is that Mental Maden2 ?" The left side of her face rose in a smirk of pure satisfaction. Our eyes unlocked as I looked down in confusion. She stood and turned away looking among the books on a shelf. "Surprised?"
"A little....." (What had given me away? )
"Don't worry, my associate couldn't get anything from you." she tapped a finger to the side of her head still facing away from me. "He told me you were here on business and your name was Stephanie Pembroke. I must say, your mental blocks are powerful, Lord Malevolence is quite a powerful mind controller." She turned toward me again grinning and held her hand out to reveal her information. "The professor was holding this when we took him." My file! The scientist picked it up just as they broke into the lab. I was relieved, I hadn't given anything away, not my mind at least.
"So you understand why I'm here, then?" I asked as she handed me the file. I inspected it. Good, all accounted for.
"Oh, I understand your motives but I don't know why you came here. Dier Schepper is an expert in metas but I fail to see what you could possibly think he has to do with your condition."
"Where is he? What did you do to him?" I said frantically.
She kept her cool demeanor as I became agitated. "Patience, Mental Maden. I like you. I do. Do you realize how dumb it was .....no I'm sorry..... how dangerous it was to come here. You aren't back to your previous security level; your powers are weakened. Hell there are some of our weaker members here that could take you easily. Anyway you have guts and guts are good enough. Yeah, I think I like you."
I clutched the file to my chest and stood. "I don't think there is anything you can do for me unless you can take me to the doctor....."
"I can't do that."
"And why is that?" she looked in my eye this time I could feel the cold heart that beat in her chest. Chilling.....frightening. She laughed.
"Sit please. Just indulge me for a few more minutes. I may be able to answer a few questions for you."
"About what?"
"Your situation. I can help you. But first I want to tell you about my father. And my sisters. And what he did to us." Her voice was velvety smooth. She had a seductive quality while talking that some speakers have. Not sexual but persuasive.....confident, powerful. A natural leader. I sat back down and listened..............
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Part 22: The warden
I was floating in the darkness and for the first time in a while I felt at peace. It was a beautiful dream like sensation until I tried to open my eyes to the harsh sting of the sunlight. It seemed I wasn't floating but being carried, but who was carrying me? I panicked at first as I regained consciousness. (I was being kidnapped! Oh no!) I squirmed under the tight grasp of my captor but could not budge their iron grip.
"Careful ma'am, careful it's just me." It was Mr. Wolfe. My mind was more clear now and my eyes focused on the behemoth carrying me. Where had he been? It was obvious: his suit was charred in places and a large cut was closing over his left eye which by now was the size of a golf ball and a color that I had never seen and never hope to again. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. I tried. I did. I put up one heck of a fight. Think I hurt the big one but they out numbered me."
"It's ok, Mr. Wolfe, are you alright?" I tried to free myself from his grasp, he had to be tired. "Maybe you shouldn't....."
"Don't try to get up I'll carry you. We need to get out of here before more Longbow show up. It may be hard to..... Oh Christ....." he said as the sound of a dozen rifles being cocked and readied interrupted his words.
"Halt!"
I heard a familiar electrical zap and I felt my transport and myself slowly fall to the ground as I lost consciousness yet again. I would be out for quite some time.
I awoke quickly as if I were spring loaded. My mind wasn't completely with me because I had one word on my mind. Chemistry. Yes chemistry. Why chemistry I thought to myself. Why is that word.....Oh of course! Ammonium carbonate, (NH3)2CO3·H2O. I began thinking of the way the molecule looked and how it reacted with water to form aromatic spirits of ammonia. Then my nose exploded and my mind completely awoke as the vapors tore through my nasal passages so strongly I almost vomited.
"Enough! She's coming to." the voice behind the blinding light said to me. I saw to figures slink away from me. My arms were pinned behind me cuffed to the legs of the office chair I was in. I heard rumbling and clutter muffled in the room next to me. I think my security guard just came to as well. I feel sorry for them when he is fully back. "State you name, please."
My head was getting clearer but not 100 percent. "Aman......aman....no Stephanie......Stephanie Pem......broke."
"Your name is Stephanie Pembroke. Is that correct?" I nodded; it was easier than speaking.
"Ms. Pembroke, why were you in a private facility of the Longbow organization during the kidnapping of one of our employees. You weren't on the registry of guests for the facility and it seems someone broke into the emergency exit nearest the laboratory."
"I...uh...I."
"Answer me Ms. Pembroke. You wouldn't like my methods. They are a little different than those used in the states."
"I'm sorry. What? Who are you might I ask?" I said in a moment of clarity, my head now coming back after the threat.
"I am Warden Nelson, head of this facility. I oversee security for all the science operations at the Rogue Island base and it seems you breached that security and I'm not too pleased right now. You see, I take my job rather seriouslyl: I come to work, do my job well (I think), say my prayers everynight. And do you know why? I care. Yes, I do, I really care. And you know what else? I have ambitions of being promoted to Ballista someday, hopefully soon. If your little break in does anything to my chances, I may just have to take things into my own hands."
"Aren't you supposed to be one of the good guys?"
"Well I didn't break into a secure, private facility like somebody in this room so I wouldn't go tossing around words like 'good guy', because I kind of wonder myself about you."
"Sir, I don't think you understand who you are dealing with." I said in a very unusually threatening tone. One of privelege, one I don't often or like using.
"Nor I you, Ms. Pembroke."
"You do know Dr. St. John-Smythe then, no?"
"The name does sound familiar, yes."
"He's in Paragon City Hall. Tell him you've found me and I'm ok." I said as he looked over my right shoulder to the person behind me. He nodded to them and they left the holding cell we were in, obviously to make a call. After a few minutes Nelson was called to speak with someone. The waiting was terrible. What was my next move. (Don't use your powers, Amanda.)
He came back in what appeared to be a mixture of annoyed, angry and slightly embarrassed. He looked at me then to the ceiling, his motions were hyperkinetic.....nervous. He had something to prove. "Well, it does seem that you know some fairly connected people. Dr. Smythe does have connections to Longbow, mostly Freedom Corps but I'll give you that he wasn't too pleased to know I had you in my custody. But he has no jurisdiction here anyway and ma'am I have to be honest with you." he paused for what I would assume was some kind of affect. "I don't trust you. Something is wrong here and I plan on getting to the heart of it. Oh, your little friend put up an argument but I hung up on him. This is my base and you are my prisoner and he can make all the phone calls to all the science geeks he wants but unless I get word from someone a little farther up the food chain than a pencil pusher in Atlas Park, I think I'll keep you around a while and see if we can't shake some information out of you."
"Well you better shake pretty hard if you plan on getting anything out of her." said a voice just outside the door. A familiar voice, one I'd heard many times before. Around the corner stepped Ms. Liberty with a handful of Longbow Officers in tow. She didn't look too pleased with the Warden, but it sure put a smile on my face when I saw her. The Warden and his men all came to attention. "I hope you find me high enough on the food chain Warden Nelson."
"Yes, Ms. Liberty."
"Can you tell me Warden why a hero from Paragon City is sitting handcuffed in my facility?"
He quickly motioned and one of his men quickly unshackled me. "Hero? Her? She didn't identify herself as a hero....And...And if I may ma'am add that it is proper protocol for any meta visiting the Rogue Islands to register with Longbow for their own safetly. It is very clear in the statutes....."
"I'm very aware of the rules ,Nelson, after all I wrote most of them. This gentlemen is Mental Maden, a personal friend and ally of mine for quite some time." she stared at me confused "I will assume these bruises on her face are from her altercation with the kidnappers and not my men. Am I correct?"
The soldiers stared at each other a bit confused. As my head was clearing I realized that I had been here longer than I had thought and began to piece together Warden Nelson and some of his interrogation techniques. I interrupted and lied "Yes, Ms. Liberty it was from the scuffle" Why prolong the process I just wanted to leave.
"Good, good, besides you won't crack that egg" she said motioning toward me "That brain is like a steel trap. Gentlemen how many times have I told you never to try and interrogate a psi based hero. It never works." I noticed Nelson finally realizing why he couldn't get any information from me. (Thank you Mother Mental)
"Now get out all of you. Leave us alone."
They quickly left like "good" little soldiers. As the door shut we began to talk. Luckily she had known much of the story; since she was the first friendly face I saw after I found myself in that bunker. I filled in the gaps and what lead me to the Rogue Islands in the first place. How I figured Dr. dier Schepper was involved or knew something and how we were ambushed just as he was about to tell me something. She listened patiently as she always does and thought for a few moments.
"I really don't think the doctor had anything to do with this Mental. He is a good source for information but I think it was a case of an old man with a failing memory thinking he saw someone he knew. I have worked with him for a long time and he's an honorable man....Misunderstood...but a good man. Let me get some of our best men to take you and your driver to your car and see that you get back home. Johnathan is worried sick about you and wondered where you'd been for the last few days." (Last few days? They had really tried working me over)
Her men eventually came and released Mr. Wolfe (who didn't look all too happy) and dropped us off at the parking lot where we had left the limosine . His boat would be brought back and safely docked at my request. I was told the pilot was called and the jet was waiting on me. I'd be home soon enough. Mr. Wolfe opened my door and I looked up at his beaten, tired face. "I'm sorry you have been through all this."
He laughed, "It was nothing Ms. Pembroke. Those Longbow's are like little lap dogs. All bark, no bite." He shut the door behind me and left me in unexpected darkness. When he made his way around the car to the driver's seat I informed him that apparently the dome light was out in the back and he said he'd fix it after he dropped me off. "I'll give you a little privacy let you shut your eyes a bit" as he raised the partition to the back. It was amazing how dark the back of a limo could be. I closed my eyes hoping to get a little rest before I hopped on the jet. I was exhausted yet I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. After a few moments of unsuccessful napping I opened my eyes and saw the darkness fade away like a mist. The dome light was fine after all.
Sitting across from me was a dark stranger in a duster hat, black leather jacket and pants with a mask covering his mouth. Metallic skulls adorned his shoulders and belt. His gaze was penetrating as he held a finger to his masked lips. I heard a dull thud.
"I have been sent by my associate, Codename-Pox. She wishes to have a word with you regarding the scientist. You have my word of honor that you are completely safe." I stared toward the compartment behind him. "Your driver will be safe as well. Unfortunately we had to drug him but he will recover in no time. He seems like the break bones ask questions later type and we really do not wish there to be anymore violence in this matter. Am I correct?"
I nodded but I'm not sure if he was referring to Mr. Wolfe breaking bones or not wanting violence. It didn't really matter because they were both the same answer. I thought maybe it was time to use my powers but I didn't know how many more could be out there. No, better I stay safe, it could be another ambush.
"Will you go with me then, miss?" he paused awaiting my answer. "I assure you your safety."
"Sure."
"Close your eyes. Look not upon the forces that deliver us from here. For if you do it will surely scar your soul."
And with that incantation everything went black and we both disappeared.
"Careful ma'am, careful it's just me." It was Mr. Wolfe. My mind was more clear now and my eyes focused on the behemoth carrying me. Where had he been? It was obvious: his suit was charred in places and a large cut was closing over his left eye which by now was the size of a golf ball and a color that I had never seen and never hope to again. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. I tried. I did. I put up one heck of a fight. Think I hurt the big one but they out numbered me."
"It's ok, Mr. Wolfe, are you alright?" I tried to free myself from his grasp, he had to be tired. "Maybe you shouldn't....."
"Don't try to get up I'll carry you. We need to get out of here before more Longbow show up. It may be hard to..... Oh Christ....." he said as the sound of a dozen rifles being cocked and readied interrupted his words.
"Halt!"
I heard a familiar electrical zap and I felt my transport and myself slowly fall to the ground as I lost consciousness yet again. I would be out for quite some time.
I awoke quickly as if I were spring loaded. My mind wasn't completely with me because I had one word on my mind. Chemistry. Yes chemistry. Why chemistry I thought to myself. Why is that word.....Oh of course! Ammonium carbonate, (NH3)2CO3·H2O. I began thinking of the way the molecule looked and how it reacted with water to form aromatic spirits of ammonia. Then my nose exploded and my mind completely awoke as the vapors tore through my nasal passages so strongly I almost vomited.
"Enough! She's coming to." the voice behind the blinding light said to me. I saw to figures slink away from me. My arms were pinned behind me cuffed to the legs of the office chair I was in. I heard rumbling and clutter muffled in the room next to me. I think my security guard just came to as well. I feel sorry for them when he is fully back. "State you name, please."
My head was getting clearer but not 100 percent. "Aman......aman....no Stephanie......Stephanie Pem......broke."
"Your name is Stephanie Pembroke. Is that correct?" I nodded; it was easier than speaking.
"Ms. Pembroke, why were you in a private facility of the Longbow organization during the kidnapping of one of our employees. You weren't on the registry of guests for the facility and it seems someone broke into the emergency exit nearest the laboratory."
"I...uh...I."
"Answer me Ms. Pembroke. You wouldn't like my methods. They are a little different than those used in the states."
"I'm sorry. What? Who are you might I ask?" I said in a moment of clarity, my head now coming back after the threat.
"I am Warden Nelson, head of this facility. I oversee security for all the science operations at the Rogue Island base and it seems you breached that security and I'm not too pleased right now. You see, I take my job rather seriouslyl: I come to work, do my job well (I think), say my prayers everynight. And do you know why? I care. Yes, I do, I really care. And you know what else? I have ambitions of being promoted to Ballista someday, hopefully soon. If your little break in does anything to my chances, I may just have to take things into my own hands."
"Aren't you supposed to be one of the good guys?"
"Well I didn't break into a secure, private facility like somebody in this room so I wouldn't go tossing around words like 'good guy', because I kind of wonder myself about you."
"Sir, I don't think you understand who you are dealing with." I said in a very unusually threatening tone. One of privelege, one I don't often or like using.
"Nor I you, Ms. Pembroke."
"You do know Dr. St. John-Smythe then, no?"
"The name does sound familiar, yes."
"He's in Paragon City Hall. Tell him you've found me and I'm ok." I said as he looked over my right shoulder to the person behind me. He nodded to them and they left the holding cell we were in, obviously to make a call. After a few minutes Nelson was called to speak with someone. The waiting was terrible. What was my next move. (Don't use your powers, Amanda.)
He came back in what appeared to be a mixture of annoyed, angry and slightly embarrassed. He looked at me then to the ceiling, his motions were hyperkinetic.....nervous. He had something to prove. "Well, it does seem that you know some fairly connected people. Dr. Smythe does have connections to Longbow, mostly Freedom Corps but I'll give you that he wasn't too pleased to know I had you in my custody. But he has no jurisdiction here anyway and ma'am I have to be honest with you." he paused for what I would assume was some kind of affect. "I don't trust you. Something is wrong here and I plan on getting to the heart of it. Oh, your little friend put up an argument but I hung up on him. This is my base and you are my prisoner and he can make all the phone calls to all the science geeks he wants but unless I get word from someone a little farther up the food chain than a pencil pusher in Atlas Park, I think I'll keep you around a while and see if we can't shake some information out of you."
"Well you better shake pretty hard if you plan on getting anything out of her." said a voice just outside the door. A familiar voice, one I'd heard many times before. Around the corner stepped Ms. Liberty with a handful of Longbow Officers in tow. She didn't look too pleased with the Warden, but it sure put a smile on my face when I saw her. The Warden and his men all came to attention. "I hope you find me high enough on the food chain Warden Nelson."
"Yes, Ms. Liberty."
"Can you tell me Warden why a hero from Paragon City is sitting handcuffed in my facility?"
He quickly motioned and one of his men quickly unshackled me. "Hero? Her? She didn't identify herself as a hero....And...And if I may ma'am add that it is proper protocol for any meta visiting the Rogue Islands to register with Longbow for their own safetly. It is very clear in the statutes....."
"I'm very aware of the rules ,Nelson, after all I wrote most of them. This gentlemen is Mental Maden, a personal friend and ally of mine for quite some time." she stared at me confused "I will assume these bruises on her face are from her altercation with the kidnappers and not my men. Am I correct?"
The soldiers stared at each other a bit confused. As my head was clearing I realized that I had been here longer than I had thought and began to piece together Warden Nelson and some of his interrogation techniques. I interrupted and lied "Yes, Ms. Liberty it was from the scuffle" Why prolong the process I just wanted to leave.
"Good, good, besides you won't crack that egg" she said motioning toward me "That brain is like a steel trap. Gentlemen how many times have I told you never to try and interrogate a psi based hero. It never works." I noticed Nelson finally realizing why he couldn't get any information from me. (Thank you Mother Mental)
"Now get out all of you. Leave us alone."
They quickly left like "good" little soldiers. As the door shut we began to talk. Luckily she had known much of the story; since she was the first friendly face I saw after I found myself in that bunker. I filled in the gaps and what lead me to the Rogue Islands in the first place. How I figured Dr. dier Schepper was involved or knew something and how we were ambushed just as he was about to tell me something. She listened patiently as she always does and thought for a few moments.
"I really don't think the doctor had anything to do with this Mental. He is a good source for information but I think it was a case of an old man with a failing memory thinking he saw someone he knew. I have worked with him for a long time and he's an honorable man....Misunderstood...but a good man. Let me get some of our best men to take you and your driver to your car and see that you get back home. Johnathan is worried sick about you and wondered where you'd been for the last few days." (Last few days? They had really tried working me over)
Her men eventually came and released Mr. Wolfe (who didn't look all too happy) and dropped us off at the parking lot where we had left the limosine . His boat would be brought back and safely docked at my request. I was told the pilot was called and the jet was waiting on me. I'd be home soon enough. Mr. Wolfe opened my door and I looked up at his beaten, tired face. "I'm sorry you have been through all this."
He laughed, "It was nothing Ms. Pembroke. Those Longbow's are like little lap dogs. All bark, no bite." He shut the door behind me and left me in unexpected darkness. When he made his way around the car to the driver's seat I informed him that apparently the dome light was out in the back and he said he'd fix it after he dropped me off. "I'll give you a little privacy let you shut your eyes a bit" as he raised the partition to the back. It was amazing how dark the back of a limo could be. I closed my eyes hoping to get a little rest before I hopped on the jet. I was exhausted yet I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. After a few moments of unsuccessful napping I opened my eyes and saw the darkness fade away like a mist. The dome light was fine after all.
Sitting across from me was a dark stranger in a duster hat, black leather jacket and pants with a mask covering his mouth. Metallic skulls adorned his shoulders and belt. His gaze was penetrating as he held a finger to his masked lips. I heard a dull thud.
"I have been sent by my associate, Codename-Pox. She wishes to have a word with you regarding the scientist. You have my word of honor that you are completely safe." I stared toward the compartment behind him. "Your driver will be safe as well. Unfortunately we had to drug him but he will recover in no time. He seems like the break bones ask questions later type and we really do not wish there to be anymore violence in this matter. Am I correct?"
I nodded but I'm not sure if he was referring to Mr. Wolfe breaking bones or not wanting violence. It didn't really matter because they were both the same answer. I thought maybe it was time to use my powers but I didn't know how many more could be out there. No, better I stay safe, it could be another ambush.
"Will you go with me then, miss?" he paused awaiting my answer. "I assure you your safety."
"Sure."
"Close your eyes. Look not upon the forces that deliver us from here. For if you do it will surely scar your soul."
And with that incantation everything went black and we both disappeared.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Part 21: Sisters of Green, Red and Yellow
The jet had just touched tarmac and as its body jostled my insides felt uneasy. Festus has brought me my favorite Italian messenger Bag. In it was my passport. My name would be Stephanie Pembroke. I first refused and asked for my real passport, but he assured me that this was how I must travel to the Rogue Islands. My father, uncle, and grandfather all traveled there under assumed names. There were a lot of people on those Islands that would love nothing more than kidnapping a billionaire industrialist. Also in the bag were several $10,000 rolls; it seems that American currency greases the wheels rather well in the Islands. He had already called ahead and arranged the families regular driver/security in Cap au Diable. He was a personal friend of Festus' and someone I could trust. He implored I listened to the drivers instructions and paid whoever needed paid the rest I leave for him. I asked Festus why he arranged so much for me since he didn't even know why I was going. He stated it didn't matter but if I wanted to be safe and return to Paragon City that I needed to take these precautions. Festus isn't just the family butler, he's also a "specialist": versed in organization, planning and security. He arranges all official travel, security details, pretty much anything the family doesn't want to do. Since its just me now he attends the monthly board meetings and reports back to me so I only have to go to the big yearly meeting. I hate those meetings. So did Daddy.
I wasn't surprised when the in-flight phone rang and it was Smitty. Festus called as soon as the jet left Paragon City airspace. I had asked (well told) him not to call Smitty and him letting me get on the plane first showed his loyalty to me (letting me get on) and to my father (calling the man who took his place). And I didn't mind, in fact I laughed when Smitty said hello, even if he sounded a bit displeased. I tried apologizing for the expense of the trip and he told me it was my money and I can do whatever I like with it. Except get myself killed.
After a few minutes of how my father entrusted him with my health and how next to Tess he loved me more than any other person on Earth, he told me," No matter what you do, do not use your powers. You are traveling as a civilian who works for a construction conglomerate. If they know you are a hero from Paragon they will jail you or kill you. The Arachnos usually have Fortunatas in most groups you encounter. They are powerful psychics, use your concentration exercises to block out your powers and your intentions on the islands. Can you do that?"
"Yes, of course."
"Good just come back in one piece." and he hung up.
I waited in the G-4 for my driver Mr. Wolfe. He was a large man with a scarred face and a noticeable limp. He's been through it all but it was obvious that he was more than competent.
"Ms. Cambridge, its a pleasure. From this point on I will refer to you as your alias for this trip. Miss. Pembroke correct?" I nodded "Now the Arachnos Visitors Liaison is outside, Arbiter Freeman, I will hand him $20,000 and he won't even look at you funny. But if asked by anyone you represent a northeastern construction group looking into steel from the islands. Got it?" I nodded again. "Let's go." he winked and he grabbed my arm with his beefy hand. I would be safe with him, I could tell.
We got past the Visitors Liaison easily, though I did notice the Fortunata playing around in my brain. She was no match for Mother Mental's techniques. Her hard training has always paid me well. When we got to the limo he scanned for bugs and once clear he asked me what I needed in the Islands and motioned to a pad of paper to write just to be safe. I had indicated that I wanted to find Dr. dier Schepper that he worked out of a secret Longbow lab and that I thought it was in the Nerva Archipelago. He made a few stops at some local taverns each time carrying one of the $10,000 rolls. After a few hours of traveling around to a few of the other islands by ferry we were on our way to the location.
"This is a hard man to find, ma'am. But with the right price you can buy anything here." he laughed. "We'll be in Nerva in twenty minutes the location in 35. Do I need to go in armed or anything?"
"No, Mr. Wolf that won't be necessary, he's just an old man. The meeting is informative not confrontational anyway. You should be able to stay in the car and relax. You've worked hard today." I smiled.
Once in Nerva we parked the limo and boarded an old house boat and sailed for about 5 minutes to a remote island with a single wooden shack and two trees. A lab. Here?
I left him on the boat and approached the shack a little nervous. What exactly was I going to do when I found the old man. Is he guarded. Will he even talk to me? Will they shoot me?
The door was padlocked. Great! Now what?
"Scuse me ma'am." the large man had sidled up to me completely undetected. In his large hands were a pair of bolt cutters and before I could say thank you he'd ripped the lock from the shack's door.
"Sure you don't want me to come?"
"No Mr. Wolfe. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings. And I afraid your presence may come off.......um....Intimidating."
He nodded. "I'll be on the boat. Any trouble just yell." I smiled back and went inside. The shack was merely a facade. Inside the shack was a stairwell down. This must have been an escape exit. The stairs and the very long tunnel that followed aimed right toward the Longbow base on the next island over.
After a quarter mile of walking I came to a lab door. A very heavy locked door. What now? I started to rapidly bang on the door. "Anyone there? Anyone? I lost my keycard and I can't access. Anyone?"
Within seconds I heard the electric bolt open on the door and was face to face with the very man I came to find. He looked startled and tried to shut the door but I had beaten him and was already half in the door.
"Doctor please don't. I just have some questions for your. Please, it won't be a minute."
He ran as best his old legs could take him towards a cluttered desk. He grabbed a file, my file, from his desk and shook it at me. "I looked at it again young lady. I looked at it again....."
"You said you knew me. Did you do something to me? Just please tell me."
"I was mistaken, you merely looked familiar."
"But do you know what happened to me?" I said right before a rifle butt hit me in my back knocking me to the ground. He'd tripped an alarm; the crafty old man. The wind was knocked from me as I was greeted by six longbow officers who didn't look too happy I'd made it into their lab.
"You are under arrest for trespassing. I recommend you cooperate, Miranda rights don't mean much here. Not much does honestly"
"But please I just wanted to ask the doctor a few questions..."
"Tell that to Warden Nelson." he said as he grabbed my arm and placed it behind my back. I could hear the handcuffs jingle behind me as the door I'd entered flew from its hinges and hit my captor in the head. Flames filled the doorway as a pulsing jet black orb landed at our feet exploding into a pool of negative energy. Suddenly my head was spinning feeling completely disoriented and nauseated. I turned and saw the other people in the room were also reeling around unaware of what was happening. Then as my head cleared I heard a voice.
"Sister, secure them!" I turned towards the door and saw the outline of three women and felt something tighten around my feet. Suddenly I couldn't move my arms. I turned my head and saw the Longbow covered in heavy vines creeping from the floor. I felt the vines tighten on me. I looked forward and saw my captors.
Three women stood just inside the doorway each dressed in the same mini dress (each a different color) , fishnets, combat boots, and identical red marking on the right sides of their faces. The one to my left (the one that seemed to be controlling the vines) was reed thin and tall; she wore a yellow dress. The one to my right was covered in flames and smoke was Amazonian in stature (she's obviously broken the door in); she wore red. The one in the middle seemed to be the one giving orders. She was slighter of build but carried herself like a battlefield general. She wore green.
"We mean you no harm. But if you try to make a move toward us, we will kill you. This can be over quickly or painfully. Your choice. I'd choose wisely though; we are threat level 50. And if you think of calling in reinforcements, trust me so can we. We just want the scientist and we'll be on our way." she looked over at Red. "Singe get the Doctor."
The flames disappeared on Red and she picked up the doctor (still unconscious) ripping the vines from their fresh roots on the floor. She carried him to the door. Green looked at the Dr. dier Schepper and grabbed half a handful of hair and vine. She looked into his still dazed eyes, "Hello, father. Your little girls have come for you. Sister's let's go!" As they walked out the door Green turned to us again and lobbed another ball of negative energy into the room. Everything went black. Just before I blacked out I thought "Mr. Wolfe, what happened to......."
I wasn't surprised when the in-flight phone rang and it was Smitty. Festus called as soon as the jet left Paragon City airspace. I had asked (well told) him not to call Smitty and him letting me get on the plane first showed his loyalty to me (letting me get on) and to my father (calling the man who took his place). And I didn't mind, in fact I laughed when Smitty said hello, even if he sounded a bit displeased. I tried apologizing for the expense of the trip and he told me it was my money and I can do whatever I like with it. Except get myself killed.
After a few minutes of how my father entrusted him with my health and how next to Tess he loved me more than any other person on Earth, he told me," No matter what you do, do not use your powers. You are traveling as a civilian who works for a construction conglomerate. If they know you are a hero from Paragon they will jail you or kill you. The Arachnos usually have Fortunatas in most groups you encounter. They are powerful psychics, use your concentration exercises to block out your powers and your intentions on the islands. Can you do that?"
"Yes, of course."
"Good just come back in one piece." and he hung up.
I waited in the G-4 for my driver Mr. Wolfe. He was a large man with a scarred face and a noticeable limp. He's been through it all but it was obvious that he was more than competent.
"Ms. Cambridge, its a pleasure. From this point on I will refer to you as your alias for this trip. Miss. Pembroke correct?" I nodded "Now the Arachnos Visitors Liaison is outside, Arbiter Freeman, I will hand him $20,000 and he won't even look at you funny. But if asked by anyone you represent a northeastern construction group looking into steel from the islands. Got it?" I nodded again. "Let's go." he winked and he grabbed my arm with his beefy hand. I would be safe with him, I could tell.
We got past the Visitors Liaison easily, though I did notice the Fortunata playing around in my brain. She was no match for Mother Mental's techniques. Her hard training has always paid me well. When we got to the limo he scanned for bugs and once clear he asked me what I needed in the Islands and motioned to a pad of paper to write just to be safe. I had indicated that I wanted to find Dr. dier Schepper that he worked out of a secret Longbow lab and that I thought it was in the Nerva Archipelago. He made a few stops at some local taverns each time carrying one of the $10,000 rolls. After a few hours of traveling around to a few of the other islands by ferry we were on our way to the location.
"This is a hard man to find, ma'am. But with the right price you can buy anything here." he laughed. "We'll be in Nerva in twenty minutes the location in 35. Do I need to go in armed or anything?"
"No, Mr. Wolf that won't be necessary, he's just an old man. The meeting is informative not confrontational anyway. You should be able to stay in the car and relax. You've worked hard today." I smiled.
Once in Nerva we parked the limo and boarded an old house boat and sailed for about 5 minutes to a remote island with a single wooden shack and two trees. A lab. Here?
I left him on the boat and approached the shack a little nervous. What exactly was I going to do when I found the old man. Is he guarded. Will he even talk to me? Will they shoot me?
The door was padlocked. Great! Now what?
"Scuse me ma'am." the large man had sidled up to me completely undetected. In his large hands were a pair of bolt cutters and before I could say thank you he'd ripped the lock from the shack's door.
"Sure you don't want me to come?"
"No Mr. Wolfe. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings. And I afraid your presence may come off.......um....Intimidating."
He nodded. "I'll be on the boat. Any trouble just yell." I smiled back and went inside. The shack was merely a facade. Inside the shack was a stairwell down. This must have been an escape exit. The stairs and the very long tunnel that followed aimed right toward the Longbow base on the next island over.
After a quarter mile of walking I came to a lab door. A very heavy locked door. What now? I started to rapidly bang on the door. "Anyone there? Anyone? I lost my keycard and I can't access. Anyone?"
Within seconds I heard the electric bolt open on the door and was face to face with the very man I came to find. He looked startled and tried to shut the door but I had beaten him and was already half in the door.
"Doctor please don't. I just have some questions for your. Please, it won't be a minute."
He ran as best his old legs could take him towards a cluttered desk. He grabbed a file, my file, from his desk and shook it at me. "I looked at it again young lady. I looked at it again....."
"You said you knew me. Did you do something to me? Just please tell me."
"I was mistaken, you merely looked familiar."
"But do you know what happened to me?" I said right before a rifle butt hit me in my back knocking me to the ground. He'd tripped an alarm; the crafty old man. The wind was knocked from me as I was greeted by six longbow officers who didn't look too happy I'd made it into their lab.
"You are under arrest for trespassing. I recommend you cooperate, Miranda rights don't mean much here. Not much does honestly"
"But please I just wanted to ask the doctor a few questions..."
"Tell that to Warden Nelson." he said as he grabbed my arm and placed it behind my back. I could hear the handcuffs jingle behind me as the door I'd entered flew from its hinges and hit my captor in the head. Flames filled the doorway as a pulsing jet black orb landed at our feet exploding into a pool of negative energy. Suddenly my head was spinning feeling completely disoriented and nauseated. I turned and saw the other people in the room were also reeling around unaware of what was happening. Then as my head cleared I heard a voice.
"Sister, secure them!" I turned towards the door and saw the outline of three women and felt something tighten around my feet. Suddenly I couldn't move my arms. I turned my head and saw the Longbow covered in heavy vines creeping from the floor. I felt the vines tighten on me. I looked forward and saw my captors.
Three women stood just inside the doorway each dressed in the same mini dress (each a different color) , fishnets, combat boots, and identical red marking on the right sides of their faces. The one to my left (the one that seemed to be controlling the vines) was reed thin and tall; she wore a yellow dress. The one to my right was covered in flames and smoke was Amazonian in stature (she's obviously broken the door in); she wore red. The one in the middle seemed to be the one giving orders. She was slighter of build but carried herself like a battlefield general. She wore green.
"We mean you no harm. But if you try to make a move toward us, we will kill you. This can be over quickly or painfully. Your choice. I'd choose wisely though; we are threat level 50. And if you think of calling in reinforcements, trust me so can we. We just want the scientist and we'll be on our way." she looked over at Red. "Singe get the Doctor."
The flames disappeared on Red and she picked up the doctor (still unconscious) ripping the vines from their fresh roots on the floor. She carried him to the door. Green looked at the Dr. dier Schepper and grabbed half a handful of hair and vine. She looked into his still dazed eyes, "Hello, father. Your little girls have come for you. Sister's let's go!" As they walked out the door Green turned to us again and lobbed another ball of negative energy into the room. Everything went black. Just before I blacked out I thought "Mr. Wolfe, what happened to......."
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Part 20: Chasing the scientist
"He's in Paragon City?" she asked "Mandy, I don't think you should meet with him. I called around to some people in the Rogue Islands and he has a pretty shaky reputation."
"I know, Tess. Noire told me his methods have been questioned for years, but she said he is the single best resource for meta powers in the states maybe the world."
"I don't know Mandy, think about it. I'm worried you are in over your head here. I just think your powers are changing and you were exhausted....."
"And my apartment just happened to be completely robbed of everything at the same time...yada yada yada. I know something happened and so far the city has no information and could quite honestly care less, the police know nothing and I'm DATING the detective in charge of my case! This may be my last hope and I'm going to find out no matter what the danger...."
"Mandy...."
"Tess, I'm here gotta go. I'll call you." I hung up the cellphone and parked the car.
The facility was hidden among the many buildings in Brickstown inconspicuously placed between a gyro shop and a music Store. The outline of the Zig, Paragon's maximum security prison, sat in the background like a great pyramid. The sign on the door stated it was an import/export broker and inside the door looked like a normal reception area. The office was decorated so noone noticed the almost vault like security door to the rest of the business. It was a covert laboratory for Longbow and their genius scientist was making a housecall.
"May I help you?" the completely pleasant receptionist asked me. She looked to be in her mid forties very well dressed and coifed. I handed her my Hero Identification (Mental Maden2 arghhh). I was not in uniform due to the secret nature of the facility. She looked it over then scanned it on what looked like a credit card machine and stared at her computer screen reviewing the details.
"Hmmm this is a 40+ securtity level facility but I see here you have a special dispensation for your meeting. Ok, an operative will be with you in a moment. You may have a seat. Would you like a magazine?"
"No thank you." I smiled. I had barely sat down when the hiss of the opening security door caught my attention.
"You may enter now." a disembodied male voice summoned.
After I entered and the door shut a man in Longbow gear appeared to my right. He was a Spec-Op, Longbow's stealthy secret operations division, and he grinned. "Sorry we never know if someone is in the lobby and today we are on high alert so we are in uniform. There's talk of a potential Freakshow Breakout in the Zig so we have to be on the ready."
He continued to talk as we walked down the hall, "Now I'm going to take you to Dr. dier Schepper's lab. I don't know what you know about him but he....we.....request your utmost discretion in meeting with him. Not only is he hated by pretty much every bureaucrat involved with the City, Longbow and the Freedom Corps but he has some very dangerous enemies as well. His methods have come under question for 50 some odd years but he's brilliant and he's done more for meta research than anyone. Now, he's known to be working on several things at once and he....well, he's easily distracted. He's a very sweet old man but he is known to be a little aloof. Don't take it personally."
I hadn't noticed before but now I had a female spec-op trailing behind me. We took an elevator to a lower floor. (The kind that requires a key not a button to access.) We rode for a few seconds when the door opened to a room that was taken out of any 1950's B Sci-fi movie. It was cluttered with books and devices that looked more like museum pieces than new technology. But if you looked closer you would see mixed in with the relics very high end servers and computer equipment. The doctor sat with his back to us at a desk with no less than three LCD screens and three keyboards. He went from one to the other at a fractic pace and it appeared that he had been at it for a while.
"Dr. dier Schepper, your appointment is here."
"The power loss case?"
"Yes, sir"
"I read the files you sent to me." he was talking to me but it took a few seconds for me to realize this.
"Oh great you got them good, I wasn't sure if you...." I said startled.
His back remained turned. "I'm not sure if you know this young lady but powers change all the time. I've counted 651 cases alone where powers were completely lost. Gone without a trace. But I couldn't tell you how often powers alter as a meta matures. And the nature of your gaining the powers in the first place lends itself to later alteration in my experience. Did you draw this up? You obviously have a knowledge for science."
"Yes sir, I have a phD from Brown. Microbiology."
"Research or teach?" he asked in his heavy Dutch accent.
"A little of both. I've set up a lab at Paragon University and I teach a few classes a semester...little stuff."
"What do you research?"
"Childhood cancers, glioblastomas mainly"
"Cambridge, right. You are published, I've read your work. You use good methodology, your writing is good....concise. some of your conclusions are shit though."
"Don't pay attention to him, he's just like that sometimes." the female spec-op whispered.
"Anyway your case. I don't think its that significant. I'm not sure I have any answers for you. Your powers changed thats all."
"I had a gamma-knifed tumor scar move from one side of my brain to the other, Doctor. What would your conclusion be to that? I asked in a voice louder than I wished I'd used. He quickly spun around in his chair.
"I might remind you that I'm doing you a favor. And I don't........"
We made eye contact and quickly he looked down at some papers.The blood drained from his face and his expression was that of pure shock and nervous recognition.
"It can't be. You? No it's not you." He began scooping up papers and putting them in a cardboard box including my file. He started shutting off computers and monitors. "I am afraid I cannot help you young lady. I am sorry but I think we must end this here."
"But wait! You know me?"
"No, no the light...I was mistaken. As for your case, I have no answers. I am so sorry. I was mistaken." he said nervously. He turned to the operatives. "Get me a car and call ahead. Have a transport ready for me. I'm going back to the Nerva base."
"But sir, you aren't scheduled to go back to the Islands for a few more days."
The female spec-op was leading me into the elevator.
"Just get me a transport. Now." I heard him shout as the elevator doors shut.
The receptionist thanked me as I left still in a daze from what had just happened. Whatever it was that just happened. I took my cellphone from my purse and dialed.
"Festus, its me. I need you to get my passport and meet me at the airport. Call ahead and have the G-4 fueled and ready to go........I know I never take the private jet but this is an emergency....no I won't need any clothes; I'm not staying that long.........Where? The Rogue Islands. I need to go to the Rogue Islands. And Festus, do not tell Smitty I'm going."
"I know, Tess. Noire told me his methods have been questioned for years, but she said he is the single best resource for meta powers in the states maybe the world."
"I don't know Mandy, think about it. I'm worried you are in over your head here. I just think your powers are changing and you were exhausted....."
"And my apartment just happened to be completely robbed of everything at the same time...yada yada yada. I know something happened and so far the city has no information and could quite honestly care less, the police know nothing and I'm DATING the detective in charge of my case! This may be my last hope and I'm going to find out no matter what the danger...."
"Mandy...."
"Tess, I'm here gotta go. I'll call you." I hung up the cellphone and parked the car.
The facility was hidden among the many buildings in Brickstown inconspicuously placed between a gyro shop and a music Store. The outline of the Zig, Paragon's maximum security prison, sat in the background like a great pyramid. The sign on the door stated it was an import/export broker and inside the door looked like a normal reception area. The office was decorated so noone noticed the almost vault like security door to the rest of the business. It was a covert laboratory for Longbow and their genius scientist was making a housecall.
"May I help you?" the completely pleasant receptionist asked me. She looked to be in her mid forties very well dressed and coifed. I handed her my Hero Identification (Mental Maden2 arghhh). I was not in uniform due to the secret nature of the facility. She looked it over then scanned it on what looked like a credit card machine and stared at her computer screen reviewing the details.
"Hmmm this is a 40+ securtity level facility but I see here you have a special dispensation for your meeting. Ok, an operative will be with you in a moment. You may have a seat. Would you like a magazine?"
"No thank you." I smiled. I had barely sat down when the hiss of the opening security door caught my attention.
"You may enter now." a disembodied male voice summoned.
After I entered and the door shut a man in Longbow gear appeared to my right. He was a Spec-Op, Longbow's stealthy secret operations division, and he grinned. "Sorry we never know if someone is in the lobby and today we are on high alert so we are in uniform. There's talk of a potential Freakshow Breakout in the Zig so we have to be on the ready."
He continued to talk as we walked down the hall, "Now I'm going to take you to Dr. dier Schepper's lab. I don't know what you know about him but he....we.....request your utmost discretion in meeting with him. Not only is he hated by pretty much every bureaucrat involved with the City, Longbow and the Freedom Corps but he has some very dangerous enemies as well. His methods have come under question for 50 some odd years but he's brilliant and he's done more for meta research than anyone. Now, he's known to be working on several things at once and he....well, he's easily distracted. He's a very sweet old man but he is known to be a little aloof. Don't take it personally."
I hadn't noticed before but now I had a female spec-op trailing behind me. We took an elevator to a lower floor. (The kind that requires a key not a button to access.) We rode for a few seconds when the door opened to a room that was taken out of any 1950's B Sci-fi movie. It was cluttered with books and devices that looked more like museum pieces than new technology. But if you looked closer you would see mixed in with the relics very high end servers and computer equipment. The doctor sat with his back to us at a desk with no less than three LCD screens and three keyboards. He went from one to the other at a fractic pace and it appeared that he had been at it for a while.
"Dr. dier Schepper, your appointment is here."
"The power loss case?"
"Yes, sir"
"I read the files you sent to me." he was talking to me but it took a few seconds for me to realize this.
"Oh great you got them good, I wasn't sure if you...." I said startled.
His back remained turned. "I'm not sure if you know this young lady but powers change all the time. I've counted 651 cases alone where powers were completely lost. Gone without a trace. But I couldn't tell you how often powers alter as a meta matures. And the nature of your gaining the powers in the first place lends itself to later alteration in my experience. Did you draw this up? You obviously have a knowledge for science."
"Yes sir, I have a phD from Brown. Microbiology."
"Research or teach?" he asked in his heavy Dutch accent.
"A little of both. I've set up a lab at Paragon University and I teach a few classes a semester...little stuff."
"What do you research?"
"Childhood cancers, glioblastomas mainly"
"Cambridge, right. You are published, I've read your work. You use good methodology, your writing is good....concise. some of your conclusions are shit though."
"Don't pay attention to him, he's just like that sometimes." the female spec-op whispered.
"Anyway your case. I don't think its that significant. I'm not sure I have any answers for you. Your powers changed thats all."
"I had a gamma-knifed tumor scar move from one side of my brain to the other, Doctor. What would your conclusion be to that? I asked in a voice louder than I wished I'd used. He quickly spun around in his chair.
"I might remind you that I'm doing you a favor. And I don't........"
We made eye contact and quickly he looked down at some papers.The blood drained from his face and his expression was that of pure shock and nervous recognition.
"It can't be. You? No it's not you." He began scooping up papers and putting them in a cardboard box including my file. He started shutting off computers and monitors. "I am afraid I cannot help you young lady. I am sorry but I think we must end this here."
"But wait! You know me?"
"No, no the light...I was mistaken. As for your case, I have no answers. I am so sorry. I was mistaken." he said nervously. He turned to the operatives. "Get me a car and call ahead. Have a transport ready for me. I'm going back to the Nerva base."
"But sir, you aren't scheduled to go back to the Islands for a few more days."
The female spec-op was leading me into the elevator.
"Just get me a transport. Now." I heard him shout as the elevator doors shut.
The receptionist thanked me as I left still in a daze from what had just happened. Whatever it was that just happened. I took my cellphone from my purse and dialed.
"Festus, its me. I need you to get my passport and meet me at the airport. Call ahead and have the G-4 fueled and ready to go........I know I never take the private jet but this is an emergency....no I won't need any clothes; I'm not staying that long.........Where? The Rogue Islands. I need to go to the Rogue Islands. And Festus, do not tell Smitty I'm going."
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Part 19: Lessons from the past 2
It was a ritual we'd repeated so many times before. She would place her fat hands on either side of my face and look into my eyes or was it my soul. It felt that way. Then she'd ask, "Have you used your powers this week?" I had tried several times but I soon came to realize that I could not lie to her. She always knew; in great detail. No matter what my answer was she neither scolded nor praised me. She just stared into whatever it was she stared at. During the visit I would go over the lessons she gave me and learn new ones. All of them centered around concentration skills. At the end of our time she would give me something she'd baked and kiss my forehead. "Don't use your powers this week." she'd say "Mother Mental loves you."
She was very structured in her lessons and I fell into the pattern of it very easily. Children need structure and at that point in my life things were unraveling quite a bit. One day I entered obviously upset. My mothers depression was getting worse and it was beginning to take a toll on me. That day Mother Mental looked a little longer, a little deeper. She didn't ask me her usual question. She just smiled and pointed towards my chair. "Sit lil' maiden, sit. Mother Mental is going to show you something."
"Yes ma'am"
She sat in her usual plastic covered easy chair just oversized enough to fit her large body quite tightly and smiled even wider.
"I don't normally do this but I think you need to see this. You are a good little girl and a great student. Maybe the best I've seen and I work with adults as well as children. It's not easy being special and repressing the urges to perform, but trust me my maiden, you will gain so much more by learning to control these things. We aren't ready for this. Not yet, it's too early" I thought she just meant I was too young to have powers but later I would realize she was talking about mankind taking the next step in evolution. We weren't ready and she was there to teach us to control it. "I want to show you what I can do. Would you like that?"
I nodded enthusiastically expecting her to play "read the mind" with me; then something wonderful happened. At first I thought a train was going by the neighborhood as the house trembled ever so gently then stopped. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a teacup still on its saucer floating to my left. One by on every little bobble and knickknack in the clean but cluttered room became airborne and began circling me like the most beautiful mobile. After the small objects made a few passes some larger objects began to dance like the others until everything in the room was orbiting my little body. I could feel my mood become sunny and my face hurt from smiling and I laughed for the first time in a while. I was even more amazed when the room itself began to spin only to be more amazed when I realized it was me that was spinning in an orbit opposite the content of the room. The feeling was so wonderful I couldn't get sick to my stomach, which in hindsight I realize now I probably should have. Then suddenly I stopped spinning and I was facing her again, her fat face with a smile of pride as wide as mine. I watched as everything floating began returning to the exact place they came from. Books were shifting around making sure they were in alphabetical order. Blanket were folding themselves and pillows fluffed up before settling back down. All under her control. When the cup and saucer (the first to move the last to land) settled on the shelf where they were stationed she looked at me.
"I don't show that to people very often..."
"But, why Mother Mental....."
"Shhh child I'm tired and I have something to say." she was spent. I could see it took a lot from her to do this. "I am going to teach you how not to use your powers and you have to trust me that as you get older you will be tempted to use them trust me, girl. I've seen it dozens of times. It never fails, but you must understand that you are here because your momma and your daddy and you yourself asked me for your help. Trust me my little maiden you are better off never using them. Because once you do there is no turning back. Your life will forever be attached to them and that life leads to loneliness, suffering and maybe death. And Mother Mental wants to see you die an old lady with your grandchildren by your side. You are special in so many ways, so smart, so beautiful. You don't need what this old lady has seen. No you don't." And then as if the earth began to turn a little slower and her voice became more clear she said this. "If you do ever decide to use your powers you must learn to control them or they will control you. And you must promise me you will only use them to help people." Her voice became more demanding and her brow furrowed. "Promise me this maiden or our lessons will end today." I nodded. "Promise me!" she yelled her voice shaking me like the house before her earlier display.
"Yes ma'am" I said almost in tears.
She came over handed me a cookie, kissed my forehead and said, "Don't use your powers this week." And she led me out the door. "Mother Mental loves you."
She was very structured in her lessons and I fell into the pattern of it very easily. Children need structure and at that point in my life things were unraveling quite a bit. One day I entered obviously upset. My mothers depression was getting worse and it was beginning to take a toll on me. That day Mother Mental looked a little longer, a little deeper. She didn't ask me her usual question. She just smiled and pointed towards my chair. "Sit lil' maiden, sit. Mother Mental is going to show you something."
"Yes ma'am"
She sat in her usual plastic covered easy chair just oversized enough to fit her large body quite tightly and smiled even wider.
"I don't normally do this but I think you need to see this. You are a good little girl and a great student. Maybe the best I've seen and I work with adults as well as children. It's not easy being special and repressing the urges to perform, but trust me my maiden, you will gain so much more by learning to control these things. We aren't ready for this. Not yet, it's too early" I thought she just meant I was too young to have powers but later I would realize she was talking about mankind taking the next step in evolution. We weren't ready and she was there to teach us to control it. "I want to show you what I can do. Would you like that?"
I nodded enthusiastically expecting her to play "read the mind" with me; then something wonderful happened. At first I thought a train was going by the neighborhood as the house trembled ever so gently then stopped. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a teacup still on its saucer floating to my left. One by on every little bobble and knickknack in the clean but cluttered room became airborne and began circling me like the most beautiful mobile. After the small objects made a few passes some larger objects began to dance like the others until everything in the room was orbiting my little body. I could feel my mood become sunny and my face hurt from smiling and I laughed for the first time in a while. I was even more amazed when the room itself began to spin only to be more amazed when I realized it was me that was spinning in an orbit opposite the content of the room. The feeling was so wonderful I couldn't get sick to my stomach, which in hindsight I realize now I probably should have. Then suddenly I stopped spinning and I was facing her again, her fat face with a smile of pride as wide as mine. I watched as everything floating began returning to the exact place they came from. Books were shifting around making sure they were in alphabetical order. Blanket were folding themselves and pillows fluffed up before settling back down. All under her control. When the cup and saucer (the first to move the last to land) settled on the shelf where they were stationed she looked at me.
"I don't show that to people very often..."
"But, why Mother Mental....."
"Shhh child I'm tired and I have something to say." she was spent. I could see it took a lot from her to do this. "I am going to teach you how not to use your powers and you have to trust me that as you get older you will be tempted to use them trust me, girl. I've seen it dozens of times. It never fails, but you must understand that you are here because your momma and your daddy and you yourself asked me for your help. Trust me my little maiden you are better off never using them. Because once you do there is no turning back. Your life will forever be attached to them and that life leads to loneliness, suffering and maybe death. And Mother Mental wants to see you die an old lady with your grandchildren by your side. You are special in so many ways, so smart, so beautiful. You don't need what this old lady has seen. No you don't." And then as if the earth began to turn a little slower and her voice became more clear she said this. "If you do ever decide to use your powers you must learn to control them or they will control you. And you must promise me you will only use them to help people." Her voice became more demanding and her brow furrowed. "Promise me this maiden or our lessons will end today." I nodded. "Promise me!" she yelled her voice shaking me like the house before her earlier display.
"Yes ma'am" I said almost in tears.
She came over handed me a cookie, kissed my forehead and said, "Don't use your powers this week." And she led me out the door. "Mother Mental loves you."
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Part 18: Best Friend Approval
The bell attached to the door of the cafe rang as he exited unaware of the conversation about to take place. His lunch was cut short because of work but that was good: it gave us time to talk. Tess looked at me as soon as the door shut and gave me the look. A look that we have exchanged dozens of times since we were little girls. One that every woman has shared with their best friends: the boyfriend approval look. Head down, eye brows up with a smile followed by giggling. It isn't the same for every woman but when you see two women engaged in the activity you automatically recognize it.
"He is great!" she whispered as if he could still hear us.
"Really?" it is very important to get this look and this approval.
"Oh my, yes, cute too. Nice build as well." she said knowing it pushed my buttons. Tess and I, lifelong friends are the shining example of opposites attracting. I tend to be reserved and stoic at times; some believe me to be cold. I prefer to think of myself as demure and conservative. Tess on the other hand is a force of nature. She is always the life of the party, most popular girl in the room. She makes easy work of getting to know people, especially men. The classic American beauty: blond with a build that stops men in their tracks. She knows this to and can use it like a master. The only thing stopping her from being a famous model or actress is her height. At 5'2" she was approached by people in the glamor industries but never given the opportunities. Not that she ever cared. The only thing surpassing her beauty is her brain. She definitely takes that from her father. Being beautiful and brainy gave Tess the ability to get away with anything growing up. She almost never got caught and when she did she always talked her way out of it. She was prodding me now. Talking about his body meant she was going to ask me about our physical relationship. Not that she was really interested near as much as she wanted to see her reserved friend squirm a little bit.
"Tess, don't go where you are going." I smiled
"Are you sure you don't want to tell me....."
"Tess!" we both laughed and drank our coffee.
"You do realize your Grandmother is probably rolling in her grave now." she said. She was always a favorite of my Nonna. I always felt Nonna saw the beautiful blond more to her tastes as a granddaughter.
"Actually I think she's rather approve." I said one eyebrow raised. I waited to see if it would register. She was fighting her brain churning madly but could not make the connection. "Francis Albert Donnelly III, ring a bell?"
She thought for another few seconds then her jaw dropped and then a devilish grin, "No! As in THE Francis Donnelly?"
I nodded and smiled. Francis Donnelly was an infamous Harvard trained prosecutor from the time of Statesman's war on organized crime he had tremendous political power and later became a hardnosed judge. His son, Francis Donnelly Jr. acting on his fathers reputation became an aggressive defense lawyer much to his fathers disapproval. There are classic stories of father and son battling in court over the fate of some of Paragon City's worst criminals. Junior became a very wealthy man with as much political cache as his father. His son , my Frank, was supposed to follow in his fathers footsteps. He went to Harvard undergrad then Harvard Law and quit after one month working in his fathers practice. Defending criminal disgusted Frank he couldn't do it. He immediately went to the Police Academy and signed on with the PPD. His father, while disappointed in his son's decision was impressed with his convictions. Frank was a trust fund baby, taught in the best private schools, set for life, but chose the life of a cop out of conviction for truth and justice. That attracted me the most.
"Oh even better! Ok, how is he in....."
"Tess, no." we both laughed. Now that I had proper best friend approval I could ask her what I really needed to know.
"Do you still know anyone on the Rogue Islands?" the question was odd and Tess looked at me queerly.
"I just did an 8 week rotation at the hospital in Cap Au Diabla. I didn't really have much time to socialize. Why?"
"Dr. Noire told me there is a man there, a doctor, that works with Longbow. He is apparently an expert in metahuman powers. Some people seem to think he can help me figure out what is happening to me."
"Amanda, don't do this. It's silly. Just move on."
"I can't Tess. Something happened."
"You blacked out for a few days. You are fine now. Your powers are returning..."
"Different powers. But my apartment....."
"Coincidence...Give it up. I think you just worked yourself into exhaustion and your body and powers just shut down. It wouldn't be the first time. Hell look at you now. You just got back from Bermuda and you already look tired. How much sleep have you gotten?........... I didn't think so.......Mandy give up this fight and just move on."
"I can't." I said with tears in my eyes. Seeing me getting upset she gripped my hand and squeezed.
"It's ok, hun, what's his name? I'll make a few calls."
"He is great!" she whispered as if he could still hear us.
"Really?" it is very important to get this look and this approval.
"Oh my, yes, cute too. Nice build as well." she said knowing it pushed my buttons. Tess and I, lifelong friends are the shining example of opposites attracting. I tend to be reserved and stoic at times; some believe me to be cold. I prefer to think of myself as demure and conservative. Tess on the other hand is a force of nature. She is always the life of the party, most popular girl in the room. She makes easy work of getting to know people, especially men. The classic American beauty: blond with a build that stops men in their tracks. She knows this to and can use it like a master. The only thing stopping her from being a famous model or actress is her height. At 5'2" she was approached by people in the glamor industries but never given the opportunities. Not that she ever cared. The only thing surpassing her beauty is her brain. She definitely takes that from her father. Being beautiful and brainy gave Tess the ability to get away with anything growing up. She almost never got caught and when she did she always talked her way out of it. She was prodding me now. Talking about his body meant she was going to ask me about our physical relationship. Not that she was really interested near as much as she wanted to see her reserved friend squirm a little bit.
"Tess, don't go where you are going." I smiled
"Are you sure you don't want to tell me....."
"Tess!" we both laughed and drank our coffee.
"You do realize your Grandmother is probably rolling in her grave now." she said. She was always a favorite of my Nonna. I always felt Nonna saw the beautiful blond more to her tastes as a granddaughter.
"Actually I think she's rather approve." I said one eyebrow raised. I waited to see if it would register. She was fighting her brain churning madly but could not make the connection. "Francis Albert Donnelly III, ring a bell?"
She thought for another few seconds then her jaw dropped and then a devilish grin, "No! As in THE Francis Donnelly?"
I nodded and smiled. Francis Donnelly was an infamous Harvard trained prosecutor from the time of Statesman's war on organized crime he had tremendous political power and later became a hardnosed judge. His son, Francis Donnelly Jr. acting on his fathers reputation became an aggressive defense lawyer much to his fathers disapproval. There are classic stories of father and son battling in court over the fate of some of Paragon City's worst criminals. Junior became a very wealthy man with as much political cache as his father. His son , my Frank, was supposed to follow in his fathers footsteps. He went to Harvard undergrad then Harvard Law and quit after one month working in his fathers practice. Defending criminal disgusted Frank he couldn't do it. He immediately went to the Police Academy and signed on with the PPD. His father, while disappointed in his son's decision was impressed with his convictions. Frank was a trust fund baby, taught in the best private schools, set for life, but chose the life of a cop out of conviction for truth and justice. That attracted me the most.
"Oh even better! Ok, how is he in....."
"Tess, no." we both laughed. Now that I had proper best friend approval I could ask her what I really needed to know.
"Do you still know anyone on the Rogue Islands?" the question was odd and Tess looked at me queerly.
"I just did an 8 week rotation at the hospital in Cap Au Diabla. I didn't really have much time to socialize. Why?"
"Dr. Noire told me there is a man there, a doctor, that works with Longbow. He is apparently an expert in metahuman powers. Some people seem to think he can help me figure out what is happening to me."
"Amanda, don't do this. It's silly. Just move on."
"I can't Tess. Something happened."
"You blacked out for a few days. You are fine now. Your powers are returning..."
"Different powers. But my apartment....."
"Coincidence...Give it up. I think you just worked yourself into exhaustion and your body and powers just shut down. It wouldn't be the first time. Hell look at you now. You just got back from Bermuda and you already look tired. How much sleep have you gotten?........... I didn't think so.......Mandy give up this fight and just move on."
"I can't." I said with tears in my eyes. Seeing me getting upset she gripped my hand and squeezed.
"It's ok, hun, what's his name? I'll make a few calls."
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Part 17: Lessons from the past
"Well hello there my little maiden. And what is your name?" said the old woman looking down at me. She looked like a cartoon character. A round woman with gray hair in a tight bun. Half moon glasses attached to her neck by a pearl chain. Her home was clean but cluttered with knick knacks from her many years and travels. The shades were drawn tight only allowing small shafts of light to illuminate the residence. If one looked closer they would see the eyes of the many cats roaming in the shadows. I was terrified. My parents said she would be giving me lessons. Lessons that would make the "special powers" go away. They told me time and again I wasn't bad for having them but as a little girl I needed to learn to hide them until I grew up. And most importantly, Nonna could never know. Never.
"Mandy" I said looking up with big eyes. She hugged me. She smelled of rose perfume.
"Come sit with me little maiden. Let me look into you." She led me to a fat chair with a plastic cover. She sat her large behind in a folding chair in front of me. She adjusted her glasses and then her large backside and placed her fat hands on my face and pawed me for a minute or two. "Oh I see, I see. Yes, very powerful, indeed. From inside, deep inside, your power comes forth. You did not ask for this. I can see that. You are afraid. I understand little maiden. Mother Mental is here for you. Mother Mental will help." I opened my eyes feeling a little woozy and saw her smiling at me.
"I have one question to ask you my little maiden. Do you want me to teach you to turn these things off?"
I nodded.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She looked at my parents and began to speak in soft tones. Funny how adults think that children don't understand what they are saying sometimes. But I was a smart little girl and knew exactly what they were saying. She agreed to do it not because I should be ashamed of my abilities but because they may be too dangerous for a little girl. She could not erase them since they seemed to be anatomic in nature and not magicly placed.. Some day I would have to choose to continue turning them off or let them out. It was going to be hard and at times I wouldn't like her because it would require discipline that most 10 year olds don't have. My parents weren't allowed to sit in the sessions, because she was going to be hard at times and they may not be able to stand it. Every Wednesday after school. 5 o'clock. I could never be late. Each session was over when it was over. No exceptions. If I worked hard it would be over early if I slacked off I could be there all night.
She then looked at me and asked, "Maiden, can you do that? Will you work hard for me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good!" she smiled and hugged me suffocating me with her ample cleavage. "My little maiden. Mother Mental is going to love working with you." She then turned to my parents. "Good seeing you two again. She'll be fine. See you next week."
She could be a stern taskmaster one minute but tender at the drop of a hat. I was expected to be on time and prepared for each lesson. Backtalk was prohibited. Home assignments were tough and mandatory. If I did not behave or became bored with the session she would yell, but if I was good she loved on me like her own child. The first year was nothing more than lessons on concentration. No mention of powers, just learning how to concentrate. Flashcards, tests, and homework. I was going to school twice! But after every session she treated me to pumpkin cookies with chocolate chips. They were wonderful.
The next few years were going to be hard on my family and Mother Mental was the only steady presence in my life. The death of my father's older brother and his family which lead to Nonna's seclusion from us and complete breakdown in her relationship with my mother. (Two of her three sons now dead) My mothers downward spiral into depression that eventually led to her suicide when I was twelve. My fathers growing absence as he was forced to take over the family empire and him eventually leaving me when I was sixteen with the St. John-Smythes. Mother Mental was always there.
The first assignment she gave me was to write her about the prettiest thing in the world (the pink sand and blue-green water on the beaches of Bermuda) to me. It would be an image I would use for my training to help with concentration. I signed it, "Amanda Bryce Cambridge, your little Maden" a silly little ten year old's spelling error she never pointed out.
"We're here. Mandy? Are you ok?" Frank said as the cab came to a hault in front of the beach house. The Bermuda air was crisp but still tropical. I had taken Noire's advice.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Was just thinking."
"What about?"
"The beach."
"Mandy" I said looking up with big eyes. She hugged me. She smelled of rose perfume.
"Come sit with me little maiden. Let me look into you." She led me to a fat chair with a plastic cover. She sat her large behind in a folding chair in front of me. She adjusted her glasses and then her large backside and placed her fat hands on my face and pawed me for a minute or two. "Oh I see, I see. Yes, very powerful, indeed. From inside, deep inside, your power comes forth. You did not ask for this. I can see that. You are afraid. I understand little maiden. Mother Mental is here for you. Mother Mental will help." I opened my eyes feeling a little woozy and saw her smiling at me.
"I have one question to ask you my little maiden. Do you want me to teach you to turn these things off?"
I nodded.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She looked at my parents and began to speak in soft tones. Funny how adults think that children don't understand what they are saying sometimes. But I was a smart little girl and knew exactly what they were saying. She agreed to do it not because I should be ashamed of my abilities but because they may be too dangerous for a little girl. She could not erase them since they seemed to be anatomic in nature and not magicly placed.. Some day I would have to choose to continue turning them off or let them out. It was going to be hard and at times I wouldn't like her because it would require discipline that most 10 year olds don't have. My parents weren't allowed to sit in the sessions, because she was going to be hard at times and they may not be able to stand it. Every Wednesday after school. 5 o'clock. I could never be late. Each session was over when it was over. No exceptions. If I worked hard it would be over early if I slacked off I could be there all night.
She then looked at me and asked, "Maiden, can you do that? Will you work hard for me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good!" she smiled and hugged me suffocating me with her ample cleavage. "My little maiden. Mother Mental is going to love working with you." She then turned to my parents. "Good seeing you two again. She'll be fine. See you next week."
She could be a stern taskmaster one minute but tender at the drop of a hat. I was expected to be on time and prepared for each lesson. Backtalk was prohibited. Home assignments were tough and mandatory. If I did not behave or became bored with the session she would yell, but if I was good she loved on me like her own child. The first year was nothing more than lessons on concentration. No mention of powers, just learning how to concentrate. Flashcards, tests, and homework. I was going to school twice! But after every session she treated me to pumpkin cookies with chocolate chips. They were wonderful.
The next few years were going to be hard on my family and Mother Mental was the only steady presence in my life. The death of my father's older brother and his family which lead to Nonna's seclusion from us and complete breakdown in her relationship with my mother. (Two of her three sons now dead) My mothers downward spiral into depression that eventually led to her suicide when I was twelve. My fathers growing absence as he was forced to take over the family empire and him eventually leaving me when I was sixteen with the St. John-Smythes. Mother Mental was always there.
The first assignment she gave me was to write her about the prettiest thing in the world (the pink sand and blue-green water on the beaches of Bermuda) to me. It would be an image I would use for my training to help with concentration. I signed it, "Amanda Bryce Cambridge, your little Maden" a silly little ten year old's spelling error she never pointed out.
"We're here. Mandy? Are you ok?" Frank said as the cab came to a hault in front of the beach house. The Bermuda air was crisp but still tropical. I had taken Noire's advice.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Was just thinking."
"What about?"
"The beach."
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Part 16.2 Canaries, UFOs and Tumors.
We live in a big world made small with connections. With this electronic world the concept of six degrees of separation seems antiquated. Dr. Noire and I made small talk and realised we had many of these connections. We were both a member of the Guardian Channel, a loosely aligned group of heroes that had a Com Unit band that announced serious threats to the city. Since giant robots or monsters don 't pop up all the time the conversation on the channel usually turned to food, especially cookies. She frequently lectures at Brown School of Medicine about Pediatrics and knows my best friend Tess St. John-Smythe. She and Dr. Fransisco have extensively researched children and metahuman powers. Noire a renowned pediatric specialist and Dr. Fransisco author of Patient A: Child with Metapowers, required reading for government workers and scientists working with superheroes. It was a ground breaking book about the physiologic and psychologic effects of powers on children. He had since put out many more: all the way to Patient K. I was the anonymous Patient A.
"So you are "A"?" she smiled. I could tell she wanted to ask questions about the book. But she held back.
Embarassed I answered, "Yeah, that's me. Been a long time since I thought about that book."
"Wow, not me I've read it cover to cover so many times. It helped me decide to be a hero." I looked at her puzzled. "After my accident, the one that gave me powers, I became depressed, confused. I didn't know what to do. Dr. Fransisco and I knew each other from conferences and he gave me that book. Since I'd worked with children he thought the story would help me cope with my ordeal. He said, 'Read about this brave little girl. It will change your life.' and I did and it......you did........"
"But I spent my adolescence and teen years suppressing my powers. That is what the book is about. Running away from what had happened." I interjected.
"Oh, no,no,no," she interupted "You were so brave. You made a choice and you fought so hard to control your powers. I know how hard that is. It took you so much will power to make that choice. No, Amanda, you were brave.....so strong. You should be proud."
A tear welled up in my eye. "It was never my choice. I know the book was anonymous, but now that you know my name I think you will realize who I am and how that decision was made for me by birthright." I watched as the wheels began to turn and I saw the moment she figured out who I was and from what family. It's the same everytime. Confusion, disbelief and sometimes even resentment. As I awaited the questions or comments about my family something strange happened. She smiled and began laughing. She hugged me again. (What was with her and hugging?)
"I love irony!" she exploded. "You were even braver than I thought! Coming from that family and having super powers. Lord knows what you went through. And look at you today, one of the cities finest heroes......" And then it hit her and it hit me. Why we were here. There was a slight pause as we both looked down. Her mood changed and her voice went from the bubbly bedside voice (Oh Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so I'm Dr. Noire) to the serious practitioner (I hate to inform you but your child has a terminal disease).
"We don't know what it is, Amanda. I've looked at your x-rays and I can't....it can't be explained. It could just be that your powers are mutating. I mean you are now doing things you learned to do late in your career. That could be it, just a steady progression......."
"What makes a tumor that size move across my brain without leaving me in a vegatative state or dead?"
"I don't know."
"What makes a person wake up after three days with no memory?" my tone became tense..
"Look, your powers eminate from parts of your brain that deal with spacial relationships. Maybe, your brain moved the tumor. Some type of teleportation......" She was stretching. I could see it. And she knew it. "Maybe this shift in your brain caused you to blackout."
"And the break in at my apartment? How do you explain that?"
"No one can explain that. No witnesses. No evidence. Amanda, you can't rule out the fact that......." I knew what was coming.
"Me? You think I did that? Broke into my own home and....."
"No, no, hun I didn't say I thought that. As scientists you know we can't rule that out."
I became shaken for the first time since I woke up in that bunker. The emotions finally came pouring in. It was heavy. It was all I could take to hold back the tidal wave of tears that were building. "What happened to me, Noire?"
"I guess it's just a UFO." WHAT???
"A flying saucer? Aliens? What are you talking about." Hearing my question again she laughed and again she hugged me.
"Oh, my, Amanda I'm sorry. It's an expression of mine. When you say UFO people always assume you are talking about little green men in a saucer, but what it really means is something that you see but can't explain. You know unidentified flying object. That's all it means. For years the government used it to term things they couldn't explain. And until the Rikti Invasion we were all left wondering if strange things really happened. Sure there were occurances that couldn't be explained and sure we knew there were heroes out there, but it all seemed to be something off in the distance. In my pursuits in science anytime I can't solve something I call it a UFO. Amanda, all I can tell you is that we don't know what it is. I'm sorry."
I stared at the floor: disappointment, sadness and fear swirled in my mind. This wasn't the news I wanted to hear.
"Maybe you should take a break. You look worn. Forget about this for a while. I promise I will look into it some more. Look, we don't know what we are dealing with here. This could be nothing but your powers natural progression or it could be a global conspiracy. We just don't know. But what I do know is you can't take much more. Get some rest. Go somewhere; get away from all of this. Just for a little while."
"I'll try."
"So you are "A"?" she smiled. I could tell she wanted to ask questions about the book. But she held back.
Embarassed I answered, "Yeah, that's me. Been a long time since I thought about that book."
"Wow, not me I've read it cover to cover so many times. It helped me decide to be a hero." I looked at her puzzled. "After my accident, the one that gave me powers, I became depressed, confused. I didn't know what to do. Dr. Fransisco and I knew each other from conferences and he gave me that book. Since I'd worked with children he thought the story would help me cope with my ordeal. He said, 'Read about this brave little girl. It will change your life.' and I did and it......you did........"
"But I spent my adolescence and teen years suppressing my powers. That is what the book is about. Running away from what had happened." I interjected.
"Oh, no,no,no," she interupted "You were so brave. You made a choice and you fought so hard to control your powers. I know how hard that is. It took you so much will power to make that choice. No, Amanda, you were brave.....so strong. You should be proud."
A tear welled up in my eye. "It was never my choice. I know the book was anonymous, but now that you know my name I think you will realize who I am and how that decision was made for me by birthright." I watched as the wheels began to turn and I saw the moment she figured out who I was and from what family. It's the same everytime. Confusion, disbelief and sometimes even resentment. As I awaited the questions or comments about my family something strange happened. She smiled and began laughing. She hugged me again. (What was with her and hugging?)
"I love irony!" she exploded. "You were even braver than I thought! Coming from that family and having super powers. Lord knows what you went through. And look at you today, one of the cities finest heroes......" And then it hit her and it hit me. Why we were here. There was a slight pause as we both looked down. Her mood changed and her voice went from the bubbly bedside voice (Oh Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so I'm Dr. Noire) to the serious practitioner (I hate to inform you but your child has a terminal disease).
"We don't know what it is, Amanda. I've looked at your x-rays and I can't....it can't be explained. It could just be that your powers are mutating. I mean you are now doing things you learned to do late in your career. That could be it, just a steady progression......."
"What makes a tumor that size move across my brain without leaving me in a vegatative state or dead?"
"I don't know."
"What makes a person wake up after three days with no memory?" my tone became tense..
"Look, your powers eminate from parts of your brain that deal with spacial relationships. Maybe, your brain moved the tumor. Some type of teleportation......" She was stretching. I could see it. And she knew it. "Maybe this shift in your brain caused you to blackout."
"And the break in at my apartment? How do you explain that?"
"No one can explain that. No witnesses. No evidence. Amanda, you can't rule out the fact that......." I knew what was coming.
"Me? You think I did that? Broke into my own home and....."
"No, no, hun I didn't say I thought that. As scientists you know we can't rule that out."
I became shaken for the first time since I woke up in that bunker. The emotions finally came pouring in. It was heavy. It was all I could take to hold back the tidal wave of tears that were building. "What happened to me, Noire?"
"I guess it's just a UFO." WHAT???
"A flying saucer? Aliens? What are you talking about." Hearing my question again she laughed and again she hugged me.
"Oh, my, Amanda I'm sorry. It's an expression of mine. When you say UFO people always assume you are talking about little green men in a saucer, but what it really means is something that you see but can't explain. You know unidentified flying object. That's all it means. For years the government used it to term things they couldn't explain. And until the Rikti Invasion we were all left wondering if strange things really happened. Sure there were occurances that couldn't be explained and sure we knew there were heroes out there, but it all seemed to be something off in the distance. In my pursuits in science anytime I can't solve something I call it a UFO. Amanda, all I can tell you is that we don't know what it is. I'm sorry."
I stared at the floor: disappointment, sadness and fear swirled in my mind. This wasn't the news I wanted to hear.
"Maybe you should take a break. You look worn. Forget about this for a while. I promise I will look into it some more. Look, we don't know what we are dealing with here. This could be nothing but your powers natural progression or it could be a global conspiracy. We just don't know. But what I do know is you can't take much more. Get some rest. Go somewhere; get away from all of this. Just for a little while."
"I'll try."
Friday, September 29, 2006
Part 16.1 Canaries, UFOs and Tumors.
My tenth birthday was very special. I had spent a year and a half in the hospital and it had been six months since my gamma knife surgery. I had been given remission status and my hair had finally grown back. Pemiscot Hall was a decorated wonderland of streamers and balloons. A string quartet played children's songs and all of my friends were there. I don't recall in all of my days a moment when my family was happier. There were more presents there than anyone deserved and for the first time in two years I allowed myself to act like a child again. It was so beautiful. Nonna insisted I play a song for the group and I gladly performed Haydn's Cello Concerto #1 in C major. While the children didn't seem to impressed and were much more interested in playing with their party favors I noticed the enchantment in the adults faces, especially Nonna's. As the party began to wind down my mother announced that their was one more present to open. Everyone gathered aroung a strange dome shaped object covered with a purple satin cloth. My eyes grew wide as she removed the cloth and I set my eyes on a lovely little bird. Tweet, an American Singing Canary. Almost magically it began to sing. I spent the next week just staring and talking to her. I fed and watered her and cleaned her cage, just like I'd promised mother.
Three weeks later after a family brunch my parents ran to my room after hearing my screams. Tweet lay motionless in her cage, the door still closed. I was in the corner holding my head crying. "I didn't mean to do it! Mommy I swear! I didn't touch her but I hurt her. Daddy make her better. I didn't meant to do it!"
"What Mandy what are you talking about?"
"I did something to her."
My mother approached me arms out. And something from inside me, purely primal in fear of punishment, spread out of my body and encased me in a green force field that repelled my mother across the room. My father went across the room and picked her up.
"What just happened Jack?" she asked.
"I don't know." he said and I could see the gears turning in his mind "Mandy what did you just do?"
"Daddy, I'm scared. I didn't mean to hurt Mommy......Tweet. Mommy I'm sorry" I sobbed.
"Honey I need you to calm down, ok?" his voice spoke so calmly. He approached me and the force field disappeared. He grabbed me and picked me up. I hugged and wet his neck with tears. "Squirrel, did you know you could do this?"
"No." I told him. I was lying. For days after my gamma surgery I had the feeling I could "do" things. Manipulate space.....move things. I felt it innately. In my brain, where to tumor once was. I started off moving crayons, placing my bubbles around things and bouncing them like rubber balls. It was my secret. I tried sharing it with Tweet but something went wrong. I was a killer now and I was scared. I cried hysterically and Daddy handed me into my mothers arms.
"Mommy's going to take care of you, I'm going to see if I can help Tweet." he grabbed the cage.
"Jack Tweet's ....."
"I know Maggie, I'm taking this to Jonathan. Maybe he can tell what just happened. He's the only one we can trust. He knows about these things." As he left the room he turned to me and looked at me with such a serious face I can still see it today. "Squirrel, you cannot tell anyone about what just happened. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"You can never tell anyone. Nonna. Especially your Nonna. Do you understand. Promise me." his voice got loud for a rare occasion. "Promise me Squirrel!"
"Promise Daddy." I buried my face in my mother's neck in shame.
He was going to see Dr. Jonathan St. John-Smythe, his best friend and the science representative to the cities hero community.
I sat in the examination room waiting not really sure what made me think of that event in my past. My eyes began to well with tears when a friendly voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Amanda?"
I looked up and saw a friendly smiling face. I smiled and wiped away a small tear. "Yes, Amanda Cambridge." I held my hand out to shake hers.
She moved energetically toward me and instead of taking my hand, she hugged me.
"It's so nice to meet you! I feel like I know you already!" She stepped back and flashed a big grin then jumped in to hug me again. I looked into her eyes and saw something familiar. She was an empath. You can tell by the eyes; they seem to look into you softly and in a reassuring way. She had those eyes. Medistar has those eyes. She asked me to sit down and then we just talked.
(To be continued)
Three weeks later after a family brunch my parents ran to my room after hearing my screams. Tweet lay motionless in her cage, the door still closed. I was in the corner holding my head crying. "I didn't mean to do it! Mommy I swear! I didn't touch her but I hurt her. Daddy make her better. I didn't meant to do it!"
"What Mandy what are you talking about?"
"I did something to her."
My mother approached me arms out. And something from inside me, purely primal in fear of punishment, spread out of my body and encased me in a green force field that repelled my mother across the room. My father went across the room and picked her up.
"What just happened Jack?" she asked.
"I don't know." he said and I could see the gears turning in his mind "Mandy what did you just do?"
"Daddy, I'm scared. I didn't mean to hurt Mommy......Tweet. Mommy I'm sorry" I sobbed.
"Honey I need you to calm down, ok?" his voice spoke so calmly. He approached me and the force field disappeared. He grabbed me and picked me up. I hugged and wet his neck with tears. "Squirrel, did you know you could do this?"
"No." I told him. I was lying. For days after my gamma surgery I had the feeling I could "do" things. Manipulate space.....move things. I felt it innately. In my brain, where to tumor once was. I started off moving crayons, placing my bubbles around things and bouncing them like rubber balls. It was my secret. I tried sharing it with Tweet but something went wrong. I was a killer now and I was scared. I cried hysterically and Daddy handed me into my mothers arms.
"Mommy's going to take care of you, I'm going to see if I can help Tweet." he grabbed the cage.
"Jack Tweet's ....."
"I know Maggie, I'm taking this to Jonathan. Maybe he can tell what just happened. He's the only one we can trust. He knows about these things." As he left the room he turned to me and looked at me with such a serious face I can still see it today. "Squirrel, you cannot tell anyone about what just happened. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"You can never tell anyone. Nonna. Especially your Nonna. Do you understand. Promise me." his voice got loud for a rare occasion. "Promise me Squirrel!"
"Promise Daddy." I buried my face in my mother's neck in shame.
He was going to see Dr. Jonathan St. John-Smythe, his best friend and the science representative to the cities hero community.
I sat in the examination room waiting not really sure what made me think of that event in my past. My eyes began to well with tears when a friendly voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Amanda?"
I looked up and saw a friendly smiling face. I smiled and wiped away a small tear. "Yes, Amanda Cambridge." I held my hand out to shake hers.
She moved energetically toward me and instead of taking my hand, she hugged me.
"It's so nice to meet you! I feel like I know you already!" She stepped back and flashed a big grin then jumped in to hug me again. I looked into her eyes and saw something familiar. She was an empath. You can tell by the eyes; they seem to look into you softly and in a reassuring way. She had those eyes. Medistar has those eyes. She asked me to sit down and then we just talked.
(To be continued)
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Part 15: Massacre at an office park
I stood over her bleeding body. I always worry about her; she is young and frail to begin with. She was unconscious but still breathing. Poison darts peppered her torso like a sick porcupine. I felt the fear well up in me. I had to control it.
"Someone get her to the hospital!" I yelled.
This wasn't good. Not at all. It was supposed to be a simple "slip in and find the information and take anyone who gives us trouble into custody". The office was supposed to be empty, Frank checked it out. We were ambushed. Vahzilok came from everywhere and we were overwhelmed. Molten Quarrel held them off with walls of fire and trick arrows. Linceti May and I did our best to protect the others but two were down and it didn't look good. I was holding Boomgirl in my arms praying the poison darts wouldn't take her. Vahz darts usually just weaken their targets but are known to kill if the target is small enough and the amount of venom is large enough. And Boomgirl is small enough and I'd never seen this many in one person. She began to convulse.
"Somebody, NOW!!!" With that Molten picked her up and began running to the Steel Canyon Hospital. A piece of paper fell from her hand as they left the room. She had been going through a file cabinet when the ambush hit. Coffee stains smeared and hid most of the content but my eyes quickly saw a few words that caught my attention. .................armored car...............hero samples.............discretion is of the utmost importance, the financier will pay well.......................no more further communicate.............................Archon Bishop. The Council were somehow involved in this and I had a name. I began to put things together in my head. How were the council and the vahz involved in this? They have no known alliance. Who is the Archon Bishop?
"Miss Mental.....Miss Mental," it was Linceti May. I didn't mean to ignore her but I was lost in my head. "Miss Mental, she's dead." POW my attention snapped back.
"Boomy? Oh god....."
"No the other one, what was her name?" she asked about another member of our party, one we'd only met recently. We had fought some street hoodlums a few weeks prior and were helped by a woman who could turn herself and other objects to stone. She was a fierce fighter, very strong.
I walked into the office where Linceti stood over the body. It was obvious. A broken neck. No doubt her stone armor went down and she was killed. I didn't even really know her and she had died looking into something about me. Guilt washed over me and tears began to freely flow down my face. Her name was Lady Smash. My head began to pound from the vibrating tumor inside. The fear came up and this time it stayed in my head; I couldn't release it. I fell to the ground exhausted and passed out. I woke a few minutes later on a couch in the reception area of the office building with Frank watching over me, Linceti at his side.
"Are you ok, hun?" he asked his soft eyes looking on me with concern.
"Yeah I'm fine just exhausted, how is Boomgirl?"
"She's gonna be fine, the doctors are working on her now" I gave him a look "She's gonna be fine Amanda, I promise." He then gave me a look.
"What did your doctor say the other day? Something is wrong and you haven't told me anything. What the hell is going on with you?"
"He said he didn't know." I began to cry again. I didn't say much after my appointment with Dr. Francisco because I was frustrated and I knew what he'd say.
"You have to stop doing this now and find out what happened to you. Forget this investigation, Mandy. We need to know what's happening to you. Now."
"I'm to meet with him and another doctor one that he says may have some answers. A hero. A hero that's also a doctor, Mistress Noire.
"When?"
"Actually I was supposed to meet with them today......" another look "I know, I know, but we had to move on this today.......Look I called and rescheduled for next week and he totally understood...Frank....Frank."
He was pacing with his cellphone apparently on hold. "Dr. Francisco, this if Detective Frank Donnelly of the PPD......Yes sir, that's me. Yes, sir. Its Amanda she's collapsed.....yes sir.......oh she can? Great we'll be there first thing in the morning........Thank you doctor."
"You are going to meet with him and this Noire person tomorrow morning."
"Someone get her to the hospital!" I yelled.
This wasn't good. Not at all. It was supposed to be a simple "slip in and find the information and take anyone who gives us trouble into custody". The office was supposed to be empty, Frank checked it out. We were ambushed. Vahzilok came from everywhere and we were overwhelmed. Molten Quarrel held them off with walls of fire and trick arrows. Linceti May and I did our best to protect the others but two were down and it didn't look good. I was holding Boomgirl in my arms praying the poison darts wouldn't take her. Vahz darts usually just weaken their targets but are known to kill if the target is small enough and the amount of venom is large enough. And Boomgirl is small enough and I'd never seen this many in one person. She began to convulse.
"Somebody, NOW!!!" With that Molten picked her up and began running to the Steel Canyon Hospital. A piece of paper fell from her hand as they left the room. She had been going through a file cabinet when the ambush hit. Coffee stains smeared and hid most of the content but my eyes quickly saw a few words that caught my attention. .................armored car...............hero samples.............discretion is of the utmost importance, the financier will pay well.......................no more further communicate.............................Archon Bishop. The Council were somehow involved in this and I had a name. I began to put things together in my head. How were the council and the vahz involved in this? They have no known alliance. Who is the Archon Bishop?
"Miss Mental.....Miss Mental," it was Linceti May. I didn't mean to ignore her but I was lost in my head. "Miss Mental, she's dead." POW my attention snapped back.
"Boomy? Oh god....."
"No the other one, what was her name?" she asked about another member of our party, one we'd only met recently. We had fought some street hoodlums a few weeks prior and were helped by a woman who could turn herself and other objects to stone. She was a fierce fighter, very strong.
I walked into the office where Linceti stood over the body. It was obvious. A broken neck. No doubt her stone armor went down and she was killed. I didn't even really know her and she had died looking into something about me. Guilt washed over me and tears began to freely flow down my face. Her name was Lady Smash. My head began to pound from the vibrating tumor inside. The fear came up and this time it stayed in my head; I couldn't release it. I fell to the ground exhausted and passed out. I woke a few minutes later on a couch in the reception area of the office building with Frank watching over me, Linceti at his side.
"Are you ok, hun?" he asked his soft eyes looking on me with concern.
"Yeah I'm fine just exhausted, how is Boomgirl?"
"She's gonna be fine, the doctors are working on her now" I gave him a look "She's gonna be fine Amanda, I promise." He then gave me a look.
"What did your doctor say the other day? Something is wrong and you haven't told me anything. What the hell is going on with you?"
"He said he didn't know." I began to cry again. I didn't say much after my appointment with Dr. Francisco because I was frustrated and I knew what he'd say.
"You have to stop doing this now and find out what happened to you. Forget this investigation, Mandy. We need to know what's happening to you. Now."
"I'm to meet with him and another doctor one that he says may have some answers. A hero. A hero that's also a doctor, Mistress Noire.
"When?"
"Actually I was supposed to meet with them today......" another look "I know, I know, but we had to move on this today.......Look I called and rescheduled for next week and he totally understood...Frank....Frank."
He was pacing with his cellphone apparently on hold. "Dr. Francisco, this if Detective Frank Donnelly of the PPD......Yes sir, that's me. Yes, sir. Its Amanda she's collapsed.....yes sir.......oh she can? Great we'll be there first thing in the morning........Thank you doctor."
"You are going to meet with him and this Noire person tomorrow morning."
Monday, August 14, 2006
Part 14: 1873-1923
I don't think I have to explain what cancer, hospitals, surgery, medicine, radiation, hair loss with all the underlying sights, smells, and pains do to an 8 or 9 year old. To say it was hell is obvious. Now I will admit that one's mortality is not as profound to a child as it is to someone who has "tasted life" for a longer period of time. I am now faced with the fact that something has or is happening to me and I am worried....yes even frightened. Much like the fear I had as a little girl being hooked up to an IV of poison I was now afraid, not of dying but of the unknown. I sat in Dr. Fransisco's office, this time almost twenty years older and without the support of my loving parents. I was alone this time. It was just a follow up to make sure nothing was coming back. No big deal really. But I was still scared. My mind looked to moments of strength when I was that little girl and once again I was drawn to a vision of my Nonna.
It was the first of many days, weeks and months in a hospital bed. A younger Dr. Fransisco was talking to my parents about glial cells, chemotherapeutics, radiation modalities, remission and other words too big and too scary for a skinny, tearful, little girl.
"Get out! Get out you three talking that nonsense in front of her. Do you want to frighten her to death?" she said as she walked in the door to my sterile room. All of her entrances seemed as staged and dramatic as the plays she once dreamed of starring in as a young woman. But unlike those characters this was real. Her family was everything to her and she was the matron: the protector. She was a force of nature a whirlwind of presence. When she entered a room all the lifeforce was sucked into the vortex that was her being.
"You three heard me. Do not use words like that in front of my little Squirrel. Squirrel, hun, are you ok?" I nodded; eyes pooling with yet unshed tears. "Out!"
They left. As if they had a choice.
Nonna came over to my side and wrapped her arms around me and cuddled me in her warmth. She smelled of Ivory soap and lilacs, immediately erasing the assault of hospital smells that I had yet to get used to. She hummed an unknown melody for a while and rocked me in her arms. She was thinking, I could tell, of what to say to the grandchild she loved so much. The humming stopped for a moment and then she spoke in her sweet southern drawl.
"Squirrel, I want you to be strong. Do not cry, ok, dear? I know you want to but you have to be strong to beat this thing." she paused and squeezed me a little tighter. "You are a Cambridge by birth. You come from a long line of the strong people. And that strength that backbone is as much your birthright as money or property. Your Pop's (my grandfather's) dad was a special man. Have I told you about your great grandpop Cambridge?" She had, but I shook my head no. I loved when my Nonna told stories.
Henry Stanton Oakes Cambridge was the first of three children born to Joseph and Ginnie Cambridge in the spring of 1873. He was a large baby that grew into an even larger boy that had more energy than anyone knew how to deal with. He drank in life with abandon and would for most of his life. He was the personification of the American spirit. He was proud, even cocky. He took on every aspect of life like a challenge and always came out on top. He excelled in school in sports and made friends with almost everyone he met. And as he grew up in age and out in waste size his hunger for life grew as well.
His younger brother Carl on the other hand was his antithesis. He was scrawny and lazy with a penchant for trouble. He was in jail by the age of 20, cut off from the family fortune at 25 and dead of alcoholism by 30 a beggar in the streets of New York.
His sister Rebecca was quiet and unassuming. A shy girl who fell in love and married the first boy she dated, the son of a prominent gun manufacturer. They lived a quiet and unassuming life in Pittsburgh, PA.
At Brown, Henry met the love of his life: Anna Davidson. She was the daughter of oil tycoon Walter Davidson. While courting Anna Walter took to Henry as his own son. So much so he promised him a stake in his corporation when they wed. Henry in true Cambridge fashion refused until he learned the business and he did. Starting in the lowest position in the company he worked his way up honestly. They were wed in 1898 and Henry spent his honeymoon on an Army boat to Miami. The Spanish-American War was about to start and he volunteered to serve; both out of patriotism and desire to meet his idol: Theodore Roosevelt. He served under Roosevelt in the unit known as the Rough Riders, a rag tag collection of Western cowboys and East coast bluebloods. Henry had followed the life of Mr. Roosevelt and longed to be like him. The two did look remarkably similar causing some of his fellow enlistees to call him Jr. Roosevelt of course hated this and gave him the name that stuck with him for life. Henry Steel. This was partly due to the fact the family was in the steel business but also due to the fact he could not be bent or broken no matter what. In one battle he was shot three times and didn't stop fighting until Roosevelt made him. He defied orders and went back into battle to save an injured soldier. He was shot a fourth time. The last wound in the back, instantly crippling him. He was sent home paralyzed. Or so they said. He was walking within three weeks of being home. Doctors never could explain why. Some say it was out of shear stubbornness.
In 1900 Anna learned she was pregnant. They were thrilled to announce he had an heir. The families were thrilled but the joy was soon met with sorrow. Walter Davidson took ill quickly and died during the pregnancy. He left the company to Anna and Henry, who was now helping his father run Cambridge Steel and Wire. He handled the transition to the oil business with ease. Profits climbed from the first day and never dropped. He was a natural. Life could not be better. In the spring of 1901 Anna went into labor while Henry was on a hunting trip with some of his fellow Rough Riders. A telegraph announcing the labor was sent to his hunting lodge and he quickly left for Paragon City for the wondrous event. His only hope was he wouldn't miss the birth. Upon arriving to the hospital he learned the tragic news that mother and daughter were both lost during the delivery. There were complications and Anna was small and weak. They tried to save them both but could not. Henry's spirit was crushed. He temporarily handed control of the company to his father and disappeared for two years. There were rumors and "sightings" of Henry Steel. Some saw him in Asia in opium dens others under the influence of absinthe in Paris. There were stories of him living with African bushmen and even retreating to the North Pole. The longer his absence the taller the tail. The truth is noone knew where he was and what he did but when he came back he tackled life with a new energy. He spent the next few years combining the Oil and Steel businesses into a fortune very few saw not only in America but the world. He was a solitary man with a solitary purpose. Driven with only business on his mind. His father became ill in 1917 and Henry took control of Cambridge/Davidson Oil and Steel. While he hid it from the world, his heart ached with the pain of loss and the emptiness of solitude. He had spent 15 years denying his heartache while building his empire. It all changed when his father passed away in 1921. At a memorial service he met Amanda Murray a 29 year old friend of his sisters from Pittsburgh that she had just "accidentally" bumped into in Paragon City and "invited" to the memorial. His heart filled with light for the first time in years. They soon began dating and were married within a year. In 1923 at the age of 50 he became a father and produced an heir for the Cambridge legacy. But Henry Steel was far from done with life for he would live to be 103 years old. At age 60 he would start a campaign that would help define the Cambridge family. In 1933 he had concerns and even opposition to the power and influence an individual was gaining in the Paragon City community. That person was known only as Statesman.
It was the first of many days, weeks and months in a hospital bed. A younger Dr. Fransisco was talking to my parents about glial cells, chemotherapeutics, radiation modalities, remission and other words too big and too scary for a skinny, tearful, little girl.
"Get out! Get out you three talking that nonsense in front of her. Do you want to frighten her to death?" she said as she walked in the door to my sterile room. All of her entrances seemed as staged and dramatic as the plays she once dreamed of starring in as a young woman. But unlike those characters this was real. Her family was everything to her and she was the matron: the protector. She was a force of nature a whirlwind of presence. When she entered a room all the lifeforce was sucked into the vortex that was her being.
"You three heard me. Do not use words like that in front of my little Squirrel. Squirrel, hun, are you ok?" I nodded; eyes pooling with yet unshed tears. "Out!"
They left. As if they had a choice.
Nonna came over to my side and wrapped her arms around me and cuddled me in her warmth. She smelled of Ivory soap and lilacs, immediately erasing the assault of hospital smells that I had yet to get used to. She hummed an unknown melody for a while and rocked me in her arms. She was thinking, I could tell, of what to say to the grandchild she loved so much. The humming stopped for a moment and then she spoke in her sweet southern drawl.
"Squirrel, I want you to be strong. Do not cry, ok, dear? I know you want to but you have to be strong to beat this thing." she paused and squeezed me a little tighter. "You are a Cambridge by birth. You come from a long line of the strong people. And that strength that backbone is as much your birthright as money or property. Your Pop's (my grandfather's) dad was a special man. Have I told you about your great grandpop Cambridge?" She had, but I shook my head no. I loved when my Nonna told stories.
Henry Stanton Oakes Cambridge was the first of three children born to Joseph and Ginnie Cambridge in the spring of 1873. He was a large baby that grew into an even larger boy that had more energy than anyone knew how to deal with. He drank in life with abandon and would for most of his life. He was the personification of the American spirit. He was proud, even cocky. He took on every aspect of life like a challenge and always came out on top. He excelled in school in sports and made friends with almost everyone he met. And as he grew up in age and out in waste size his hunger for life grew as well.
His younger brother Carl on the other hand was his antithesis. He was scrawny and lazy with a penchant for trouble. He was in jail by the age of 20, cut off from the family fortune at 25 and dead of alcoholism by 30 a beggar in the streets of New York.
His sister Rebecca was quiet and unassuming. A shy girl who fell in love and married the first boy she dated, the son of a prominent gun manufacturer. They lived a quiet and unassuming life in Pittsburgh, PA.
At Brown, Henry met the love of his life: Anna Davidson. She was the daughter of oil tycoon Walter Davidson. While courting Anna Walter took to Henry as his own son. So much so he promised him a stake in his corporation when they wed. Henry in true Cambridge fashion refused until he learned the business and he did. Starting in the lowest position in the company he worked his way up honestly. They were wed in 1898 and Henry spent his honeymoon on an Army boat to Miami. The Spanish-American War was about to start and he volunteered to serve; both out of patriotism and desire to meet his idol: Theodore Roosevelt. He served under Roosevelt in the unit known as the Rough Riders, a rag tag collection of Western cowboys and East coast bluebloods. Henry had followed the life of Mr. Roosevelt and longed to be like him. The two did look remarkably similar causing some of his fellow enlistees to call him Jr. Roosevelt of course hated this and gave him the name that stuck with him for life. Henry Steel. This was partly due to the fact the family was in the steel business but also due to the fact he could not be bent or broken no matter what. In one battle he was shot three times and didn't stop fighting until Roosevelt made him. He defied orders and went back into battle to save an injured soldier. He was shot a fourth time. The last wound in the back, instantly crippling him. He was sent home paralyzed. Or so they said. He was walking within three weeks of being home. Doctors never could explain why. Some say it was out of shear stubbornness.
In 1900 Anna learned she was pregnant. They were thrilled to announce he had an heir. The families were thrilled but the joy was soon met with sorrow. Walter Davidson took ill quickly and died during the pregnancy. He left the company to Anna and Henry, who was now helping his father run Cambridge Steel and Wire. He handled the transition to the oil business with ease. Profits climbed from the first day and never dropped. He was a natural. Life could not be better. In the spring of 1901 Anna went into labor while Henry was on a hunting trip with some of his fellow Rough Riders. A telegraph announcing the labor was sent to his hunting lodge and he quickly left for Paragon City for the wondrous event. His only hope was he wouldn't miss the birth. Upon arriving to the hospital he learned the tragic news that mother and daughter were both lost during the delivery. There were complications and Anna was small and weak. They tried to save them both but could not. Henry's spirit was crushed. He temporarily handed control of the company to his father and disappeared for two years. There were rumors and "sightings" of Henry Steel. Some saw him in Asia in opium dens others under the influence of absinthe in Paris. There were stories of him living with African bushmen and even retreating to the North Pole. The longer his absence the taller the tail. The truth is noone knew where he was and what he did but when he came back he tackled life with a new energy. He spent the next few years combining the Oil and Steel businesses into a fortune very few saw not only in America but the world. He was a solitary man with a solitary purpose. Driven with only business on his mind. His father became ill in 1917 and Henry took control of Cambridge/Davidson Oil and Steel. While he hid it from the world, his heart ached with the pain of loss and the emptiness of solitude. He had spent 15 years denying his heartache while building his empire. It all changed when his father passed away in 1921. At a memorial service he met Amanda Murray a 29 year old friend of his sisters from Pittsburgh that she had just "accidentally" bumped into in Paragon City and "invited" to the memorial. His heart filled with light for the first time in years. They soon began dating and were married within a year. In 1923 at the age of 50 he became a father and produced an heir for the Cambridge legacy. But Henry Steel was far from done with life for he would live to be 103 years old. At age 60 he would start a campaign that would help define the Cambridge family. In 1933 he had concerns and even opposition to the power and influence an individual was gaining in the Paragon City community. That person was known only as Statesman.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Part 13: Getting some information and a large dry cleaning bill.
Elfie gave me the location of a low level independant operative in Steel Canyon that brokered a deal to rob the armored car that contained my official blood sample. These samples are used for DNA identification in case of death or Praetorian invasion. They are extremely valuable and their transport is usually on known by a select few. Whoever this Lougge is he must know people in important places.He looked like a vagrant. Hell he may have been one the way he looked. There's no way this guy was connected. Must be the person that hired him. I had to get that information from him. If he would talk............Ambush......Vahzilok operatives.....low level but the numbers did concern me.
Vahz are a death cult obscessed with reanimation and mortification. They were followers of the infamous Dr. Vahzilok, a sick individual bent on changing his body with the flesh of the deceased. He was once an respected pathologist but now is a disgusting, throbbing mound of stinking flesh three times the size of an average man and ten times as powerful. His followers tend to be low level hoods with nothing better to do but cause mayhem and get him "Parts" for his experiments. Once you get to a certain sercurity level they tend to be more annoying than dangerous. The re animated Abominations (think Frankenstein but bulimic) use vomit as an attack. It hurts ,yes, but the smell is the worst. Nothing ruins new tights like zombie vomit.
The ambush was over as quickly as it started. Luckily I dodged one of said vomit attacks. I can afford the cleaning bill but not the smell.
As I felt cornered and outnumbered waves of fear began building up in my mind. The pressure built so strong I though my head were about to explode. Instinctively I released it toward the attackers. It hit them like holy terror. They were stunned where they stood now cowering. One even soiled himself. They had obviously been sent for me or Lougge, probably both, but instantly they ran away completely ignoring us. Gone. I stood mouth agape. Lougge stared in disbelief too.
It didn't take long to get the number from Lougge. I let him go; he didn't know anything else. That is the way these things work. He ran away almost as quickly as the Vahz. What he saw scared him......heck, it scared me too.
I stored the number in my comm unit. Frank could find the address for me later . I looked back down to send a message to thank Elf when I saw it on my boot. Ugh. Zombie vomit. Then the smell hit me. Damnit. Gotta find a hose.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Part 12: Cellos and arguments
My comm unit was ringing and I grabbed it hoping it was the information I had requested. It was early, 5:30, but I didn't mind being disturbed. I sat upright in bed and grabbed the unit. YES. It was an old level 50 teammate Canadian Elf, now retired (well she likes to call it retirement) and working reception in a well connected office. She didn't need the work but she liked being around people and really liked dressing up in business suits.
"Mental, meet me in Peregrine Island in fifteen minutes. You are flying again right?"
"Uh, yeah, I'll be there."
I scrambled out of bed and went to put on some clothes. Between the call and banging around looking for something decent to wear I forgot the person rustling now on the other side of the bed. His face looked up confused and sheet marked.
"Mandy, what is it?"
"Nothing Frank, just stay here, no need to wake. I'll be right back."
"K" and he immediately started snoring. I stared for a moment and smiled. I slid the balcony door open, shut it behind me and jumped off the building.
"Oh, shoot!." I exclaimed and dialed up Elfie. "I have a therapy session and if I miss another Dr. Smythe will lecture me and I'm not in the mood for one of those sessions."
"No problem Mental, I'll meet you on my lunch break."
I changed my flight direction towards Dr. Baldy McSweatsalot. Ugh, not again.
The session started as usual. Him prying into my thoughts and feelings of family members.
"Last time we were interrupted. Tell me about your Grandmother."
"Well, she could be the most beautiful, charming person one minute and the next a horrid, horrid monster."
"Go on. And tell me how she made you feel." he said sweating. I preceded to tell him about my eighth birthday party.
The gift was taller than I was and I stared at it all day in its wrappings with wonder. My mother reacted quickly when I looked at it with confusion in my young eyes. She was always protective of me.
"Its a musical instrument, a cello, from your Nonna. Now if you don't like it I'm sure she..." she was interrupted as she shot daggers toward my grandmother
"Nonsense, Maggie, she will love it. All Cambridges play instruments and this one is so beautiful. Amanda don't you just love..."
"No. No, Penelope you will not do this to her. Look at her! She doesn't even know what it is for godsake!." she looked away from me and tried to keep the next bit out of my earshot. It didn't work; my mother was a passionate woman. "We have been through this, Penny, we will raise this child as we see fit. I already gave in to the private school thing."
"And look how good she is doing. She's practically at middle school level and she's not in third grade." she paused and collected herself. One of her best methods of disarming people. "Look, I know its hard where you come from, but our family has a long and storied history and it is very important that future generations are given the proper cultural tools to continue those traditions."
"Do. Not. Talk down to me. Understand me. I am a part of this family. My husband is the ONLY thing holding it together right now. Everything this family has been through and all you can think of are stupid superficial traditions. She is a little girl. A beautiful, bright, fun-loving little girl who does not need this pressure.
Especially from you......"
"You two stop this now." came the quiet, confident voice of Daddy. He spoke softly and infrequently, chosing to listen first, and when he spoke all listened. The room fell silent. "I will not allow this on my babies birthday. Go into the kitchen if you want to have this conversation, but do not show yourselves on her day...."
"Nonna," my voice trembled with tears. "I love it; it's pretty." Nonna bolted across the room and hugged me as she looked at my mother with a look of pure satisfaction and contempt. I didn't notice it then as a child, but as an adult I now recognize it was the competitive look of a mother-in-law letting the daughter-in-law know who's really in charge.
I stayed and played with my new toys but was most excited about my cello lessons that Nonna had already scheduled for me. I loved to please my Nonna.
I heard the fight as it continued in the kitchen. I don't remember it verbatim but several references to proper breeding and worthiness;pretention and pompeity. But I do remember one line that always stuck in my brain.
"I do not want her to grow up to be someone like you."
Sometimes Nonna's words could cut like razors. My mother stayed in her room for a week. My father tried to console her but she was angry with him for putting up with her. I heard their fights that week too. Not angry at each other but unhappy with the others relationship with my grandmother and how if effects them. They had never fought before because they were so in love. This is the only time I ever heard them raise their voices to each other. I just stayed in my room and played with my new favorite toy. I was actually a natural at the cello. My instructor was pleased. I could be the next great prodigy. I had my first recital in October of that year, one day before I had my first seizure. One day before my life changed forever. Cancer.
"Mental, meet me in Peregrine Island in fifteen minutes. You are flying again right?"
"Uh, yeah, I'll be there."
I scrambled out of bed and went to put on some clothes. Between the call and banging around looking for something decent to wear I forgot the person rustling now on the other side of the bed. His face looked up confused and sheet marked.
"Mandy, what is it?"
"Nothing Frank, just stay here, no need to wake. I'll be right back."
"K" and he immediately started snoring. I stared for a moment and smiled. I slid the balcony door open, shut it behind me and jumped off the building.
"Oh, shoot!." I exclaimed and dialed up Elfie. "I have a therapy session and if I miss another Dr. Smythe will lecture me and I'm not in the mood for one of those sessions."
"No problem Mental, I'll meet you on my lunch break."
I changed my flight direction towards Dr. Baldy McSweatsalot. Ugh, not again.
The session started as usual. Him prying into my thoughts and feelings of family members.
"Last time we were interrupted. Tell me about your Grandmother."
"Well, she could be the most beautiful, charming person one minute and the next a horrid, horrid monster."
"Go on. And tell me how she made you feel." he said sweating. I preceded to tell him about my eighth birthday party.
The gift was taller than I was and I stared at it all day in its wrappings with wonder. My mother reacted quickly when I looked at it with confusion in my young eyes. She was always protective of me.
"Its a musical instrument, a cello, from your Nonna. Now if you don't like it I'm sure she..." she was interrupted as she shot daggers toward my grandmother
"Nonsense, Maggie, she will love it. All Cambridges play instruments and this one is so beautiful. Amanda don't you just love..."
"No. No, Penelope you will not do this to her. Look at her! She doesn't even know what it is for godsake!." she looked away from me and tried to keep the next bit out of my earshot. It didn't work; my mother was a passionate woman. "We have been through this, Penny, we will raise this child as we see fit. I already gave in to the private school thing."
"And look how good she is doing. She's practically at middle school level and she's not in third grade." she paused and collected herself. One of her best methods of disarming people. "Look, I know its hard where you come from, but our family has a long and storied history and it is very important that future generations are given the proper cultural tools to continue those traditions."
"Do. Not. Talk down to me. Understand me. I am a part of this family. My husband is the ONLY thing holding it together right now. Everything this family has been through and all you can think of are stupid superficial traditions. She is a little girl. A beautiful, bright, fun-loving little girl who does not need this pressure.
Especially from you......"
"You two stop this now." came the quiet, confident voice of Daddy. He spoke softly and infrequently, chosing to listen first, and when he spoke all listened. The room fell silent. "I will not allow this on my babies birthday. Go into the kitchen if you want to have this conversation, but do not show yourselves on her day...."
"Nonna," my voice trembled with tears. "I love it; it's pretty." Nonna bolted across the room and hugged me as she looked at my mother with a look of pure satisfaction and contempt. I didn't notice it then as a child, but as an adult I now recognize it was the competitive look of a mother-in-law letting the daughter-in-law know who's really in charge.
I stayed and played with my new toys but was most excited about my cello lessons that Nonna had already scheduled for me. I loved to please my Nonna.
I heard the fight as it continued in the kitchen. I don't remember it verbatim but several references to proper breeding and worthiness;pretention and pompeity. But I do remember one line that always stuck in my brain.
"I do not want her to grow up to be someone like you."
Sometimes Nonna's words could cut like razors. My mother stayed in her room for a week. My father tried to console her but she was angry with him for putting up with her. I heard their fights that week too. Not angry at each other but unhappy with the others relationship with my grandmother and how if effects them. They had never fought before because they were so in love. This is the only time I ever heard them raise their voices to each other. I just stayed in my room and played with my new favorite toy. I was actually a natural at the cello. My instructor was pleased. I could be the next great prodigy. I had my first recital in October of that year, one day before I had my first seizure. One day before my life changed forever. Cancer.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Part 11:1823-1873
It was late September, my search for an opening on the Vahz angle of my case was leading nowhere and I was in the middle of another grueling hour with Dr. W J. Haverschmidt. I'm sure he's a competant psychologist or more likely well connected, but the only reason I'm sitting in the chair is because Smithie asked me. I stared at the ceiling because the sweat on the fat analyst's balding head was too distracting.
"Ms. Cambridge... Ms. Cambridge," he interupted my daydream, "I need you to pay more attention. We can't get to the problems without you paying attention to your thoughts and feelings."
I bit my lip. "Sorry, Doctor, what were you asking."
"I was asking why you don't mention your paternal grandmother."
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"Well she was you last living relative." he looked down at his folder on me. "She died just a little over three years ago, yet you haven't mentioned her. May I ask why?"
"I don't know, I...." my thoughts drifted again this time to my childhood.
My first solid memory (smells, sounds, feelings) of my grandmother was the summer of my sixth birthday. We were staying in Bermuda at an old family friends oceanside manor. I remember sitting on her lap, sun on my face, enjoying what could only be paradise. The water was a combination of green and blue that still to this day leaves me breathless. Add to that the sands of the beaches are a light pink, the one color to perfectly contrast the gem like color of the water that crashes upon them. The weather: perfect 72 with flirty, salty breezes. Truely dreamlike. Heaven on earth.
We had just finished a Sunday brunch of eggs, fruit and Bermuda Fish Stew (a personal favorite). She asked me to come out onto the back deck to sip lemonade and talk about something very important.
"Do you know about your family, squirrel?"
"Mommy, Daddy and you, Nonna?"
"No little one, the story of your family?"
"No, Nonna."
"You remember your Pop Cambridge?" she asked, her husband of 38 years, my grandfather: billionaire heir and World War II hero. He had died of a stroke in 1983, just weeks before my 4th birthday.
I smiled, "Yes, I love Pop."
"Good, good, so did I very much. Well let me tell you the story of his.....your family." Her grip on me tightened and she kissed me lightly on the top of my head. She was a beautiful woman even at 59 years she still looked like the pin-up girl of her youth. Her hair was always blond and coifed perfectly. She was always in a dress with heals. Even in the tropical heat she looked, well, perfect. She had a code about appearances that she instilled in me over the years. Always look perfect and act perfect. Always remember you are a lady and you are a Cambridge. (I never corrected her grammar)
"Well, Squirrel, we are going to go back to 1823 right around the same time our Paragon City was founded. Do you know how far back that is?" I nodded enthusiastically, not so much that I understood but more that I loved when my Nonna told stories. She had been an actress and a pin-up girl in her youth when she met my grandfather at a victory parade in New York in 1945. They were married within 2 months of meeting each other.
Her voice was seductive, the sultriness of the Georgia heat of her childhood. When she entered a room or when she spoke people took notice. It was a gift as wonderous and powerful as any hero I've met. She was a force. She knew it. I couldn't be any more different than her and I loved her and hated her for it. But when she told a story, oh the world stopped and all that was present was her voice and the pictures she painted with them.
My great-great-great grandfather was born in 1823 in what is now called Galaxy City to Joseph and Mary Cambridge. They named their only son, Johnathan Oakes Cambridge.
Joseph was a hard working lawyer, a brilliant legal mind with too much integrity to make money with it. What little money he did bring home was usually given away after the essentials were paid for. Mary and Joseph were devout Lutherans who felt a strong pull toward philathropy. They lived well and never went without but what little was left was always given away to those less fortunate. This would shape the future of the Cambridges for generation but inevitably lead to the ruin of this family. In 1839 when Johnathan was 15 years old Joseph committed suicide after a bad business deal left the family broke. Johnathan was left to care for himself and his mother. He quit school and went to work for Pemiscot Textiles.
The owner was H. S. Pemiscot a brilliant businessman that was at once ruthless yet kind. He took to Johnathan and his situation but never gave him quarter. He liked Johnathan but showed no favoritism. He did though take him under his wing and serve as a father figure. After five years Johnathan began to notice H.S.'s 15 year old daughter Genivieve. They began friendly conversations when he'd see her and formed a strong friendship, but Johnathan was wise enough to not make romantic advances at his bosses daughter. Finally when he was 22 and had been promoted to foreman of one of the textile mills he spoke to Mr. Pemiscot of his intentions. Pemiscot told him he could court his daughter on one condition. He had to work hard for one year without contact or speaking with her. He could only write her letters. If after that year he still felt the same way he could court his daughter.
He wrote her everyday and she to him. Pemiscot doubled his shifts and lowered his wages. He did everything in his power to test the young man. Johnathan never waivered, he worked, went home, read his correspondence and wrote to her about his days at the mill and his dreams for the future. As the eleventh month approached his mother passed away. At her funeral Pemiscot told Cambridge he understood if he didn't want to continue that if he needed his daughters comfort he would ablige. Johnathan said that he made a commitment and intended to honor it. They were married a year later.
As a gift for the wedding Pemiscot made Johnathan a proposal. Since he had no son and Johnathan and Jenny would inherit the family fortune he told him to pick a business he wanted to start and that he would provide the start up cash. He remembered an article he had read when he was fourteen about an invention called the telegraph and had always been fascinated by the connections it would create. He was fascinated by the expansion of the young country and the role that invention had played and had an ispiration. In 1847 the deed to a wire plant was signed over to Johnathan and he soon became the top seller of wire to the telegraph companies across the country. The company did well beyond expectations and H.S. was proud. Thus a tradition in the Cambridge family. A child was given the means to do whatever they wanted. It would prove to make the family fortune grow over the years. Some failed but the family business as a whole always increased in size. Hard work and smart decisions were family traits as apparent as Johnathan's sandy blond hair and blue eyes and would be for generations to come.
Another family tradition was formed in the years of Johnathan and his bride. Jenny was an avid reader and loved to write. She started a journal chronicaling the life and times of the family. She wrote daily passages about the comings and goings even at times focusing on the minutae of recipes or guest lists. This was an honored tradition of the wife of the eldest son that carried on to my own Nonna, who loved it as much as any other before her.
They had four happy children Joseph(1849), Mary(1851), June and Elizabeth(twins 1853). Joseph was raised with all the wisdom and ambition of his father. Charity which meant so much to Johnathan was stressed to the children and each found their pet causes. Joseph went to Brown (a new tradition that would be followed for years to come) and excelled in his business studies. When he graduated he made a proposal to his grandfather Pemiscot now an old man. The railroads were connecting the young country so he saw prospects in steel. He soon owned 5 of the highest producing steel mills in the country. The families fortunes grew even more. H.S. passed due to old age and Johnathan took the reins of the textile business and the wire business where profits grew exponentially. The girls all married into fine Rhode Island families and all were happy. Joseph married his sweetheart from Brown, Genivieve Malone. Their first son Henry Stanton Oakes Cambridge (1873) would blaze the family into the new century with guts and voracity and turn the family fortune into something of legend.
"Miss Cambridge.......Miss Cambridge."
I shook my head; lost for a second.
"Our time is up." his sweaty bald face smiled. I thanked him and left the office.
"Ms. Cambridge... Ms. Cambridge," he interupted my daydream, "I need you to pay more attention. We can't get to the problems without you paying attention to your thoughts and feelings."
I bit my lip. "Sorry, Doctor, what were you asking."
"I was asking why you don't mention your paternal grandmother."
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"Well she was you last living relative." he looked down at his folder on me. "She died just a little over three years ago, yet you haven't mentioned her. May I ask why?"
"I don't know, I...." my thoughts drifted again this time to my childhood.
My first solid memory (smells, sounds, feelings) of my grandmother was the summer of my sixth birthday. We were staying in Bermuda at an old family friends oceanside manor. I remember sitting on her lap, sun on my face, enjoying what could only be paradise. The water was a combination of green and blue that still to this day leaves me breathless. Add to that the sands of the beaches are a light pink, the one color to perfectly contrast the gem like color of the water that crashes upon them. The weather: perfect 72 with flirty, salty breezes. Truely dreamlike. Heaven on earth.
We had just finished a Sunday brunch of eggs, fruit and Bermuda Fish Stew (a personal favorite). She asked me to come out onto the back deck to sip lemonade and talk about something very important.
"Do you know about your family, squirrel?"
"Mommy, Daddy and you, Nonna?"
"No little one, the story of your family?"
"No, Nonna."
"You remember your Pop Cambridge?" she asked, her husband of 38 years, my grandfather: billionaire heir and World War II hero. He had died of a stroke in 1983, just weeks before my 4th birthday.
I smiled, "Yes, I love Pop."
"Good, good, so did I very much. Well let me tell you the story of his.....your family." Her grip on me tightened and she kissed me lightly on the top of my head. She was a beautiful woman even at 59 years she still looked like the pin-up girl of her youth. Her hair was always blond and coifed perfectly. She was always in a dress with heals. Even in the tropical heat she looked, well, perfect. She had a code about appearances that she instilled in me over the years. Always look perfect and act perfect. Always remember you are a lady and you are a Cambridge. (I never corrected her grammar)
"Well, Squirrel, we are going to go back to 1823 right around the same time our Paragon City was founded. Do you know how far back that is?" I nodded enthusiastically, not so much that I understood but more that I loved when my Nonna told stories. She had been an actress and a pin-up girl in her youth when she met my grandfather at a victory parade in New York in 1945. They were married within 2 months of meeting each other.
Her voice was seductive, the sultriness of the Georgia heat of her childhood. When she entered a room or when she spoke people took notice. It was a gift as wonderous and powerful as any hero I've met. She was a force. She knew it. I couldn't be any more different than her and I loved her and hated her for it. But when she told a story, oh the world stopped and all that was present was her voice and the pictures she painted with them.
My great-great-great grandfather was born in 1823 in what is now called Galaxy City to Joseph and Mary Cambridge. They named their only son, Johnathan Oakes Cambridge.
Joseph was a hard working lawyer, a brilliant legal mind with too much integrity to make money with it. What little money he did bring home was usually given away after the essentials were paid for. Mary and Joseph were devout Lutherans who felt a strong pull toward philathropy. They lived well and never went without but what little was left was always given away to those less fortunate. This would shape the future of the Cambridges for generation but inevitably lead to the ruin of this family. In 1839 when Johnathan was 15 years old Joseph committed suicide after a bad business deal left the family broke. Johnathan was left to care for himself and his mother. He quit school and went to work for Pemiscot Textiles.
The owner was H. S. Pemiscot a brilliant businessman that was at once ruthless yet kind. He took to Johnathan and his situation but never gave him quarter. He liked Johnathan but showed no favoritism. He did though take him under his wing and serve as a father figure. After five years Johnathan began to notice H.S.'s 15 year old daughter Genivieve. They began friendly conversations when he'd see her and formed a strong friendship, but Johnathan was wise enough to not make romantic advances at his bosses daughter. Finally when he was 22 and had been promoted to foreman of one of the textile mills he spoke to Mr. Pemiscot of his intentions. Pemiscot told him he could court his daughter on one condition. He had to work hard for one year without contact or speaking with her. He could only write her letters. If after that year he still felt the same way he could court his daughter.
He wrote her everyday and she to him. Pemiscot doubled his shifts and lowered his wages. He did everything in his power to test the young man. Johnathan never waivered, he worked, went home, read his correspondence and wrote to her about his days at the mill and his dreams for the future. As the eleventh month approached his mother passed away. At her funeral Pemiscot told Cambridge he understood if he didn't want to continue that if he needed his daughters comfort he would ablige. Johnathan said that he made a commitment and intended to honor it. They were married a year later.
As a gift for the wedding Pemiscot made Johnathan a proposal. Since he had no son and Johnathan and Jenny would inherit the family fortune he told him to pick a business he wanted to start and that he would provide the start up cash. He remembered an article he had read when he was fourteen about an invention called the telegraph and had always been fascinated by the connections it would create. He was fascinated by the expansion of the young country and the role that invention had played and had an ispiration. In 1847 the deed to a wire plant was signed over to Johnathan and he soon became the top seller of wire to the telegraph companies across the country. The company did well beyond expectations and H.S. was proud. Thus a tradition in the Cambridge family. A child was given the means to do whatever they wanted. It would prove to make the family fortune grow over the years. Some failed but the family business as a whole always increased in size. Hard work and smart decisions were family traits as apparent as Johnathan's sandy blond hair and blue eyes and would be for generations to come.
Another family tradition was formed in the years of Johnathan and his bride. Jenny was an avid reader and loved to write. She started a journal chronicaling the life and times of the family. She wrote daily passages about the comings and goings even at times focusing on the minutae of recipes or guest lists. This was an honored tradition of the wife of the eldest son that carried on to my own Nonna, who loved it as much as any other before her.
They had four happy children Joseph(1849), Mary(1851), June and Elizabeth(twins 1853). Joseph was raised with all the wisdom and ambition of his father. Charity which meant so much to Johnathan was stressed to the children and each found their pet causes. Joseph went to Brown (a new tradition that would be followed for years to come) and excelled in his business studies. When he graduated he made a proposal to his grandfather Pemiscot now an old man. The railroads were connecting the young country so he saw prospects in steel. He soon owned 5 of the highest producing steel mills in the country. The families fortunes grew even more. H.S. passed due to old age and Johnathan took the reins of the textile business and the wire business where profits grew exponentially. The girls all married into fine Rhode Island families and all were happy. Joseph married his sweetheart from Brown, Genivieve Malone. Their first son Henry Stanton Oakes Cambridge (1873) would blaze the family into the new century with guts and voracity and turn the family fortune into something of legend.
"Miss Cambridge.......Miss Cambridge."
I shook my head; lost for a second.
"Our time is up." his sweaty bald face smiled. I thanked him and left the office.
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