Bending light was the hardest part to learn. Perhaps that was why they had drilled it into her head so much. Shaking the extraneous thoughts from her head, Sham peered around the corner of the concrete corridors of the Red Market compound known as a slaughterhouse. Here is where the sinister organization brought countless souls to be chopped up, parceled out, and shipped to unscrupulous customers. Here is where her investigation of Quiver’s disappearance had led her.
The Red Market had kidnapped her friend from his apartment several days ago – or had it been weeks? – it was getting harder to remember as the hunt dragged on. Sham again shook her head – she was in the field, which called for focus. Her fingers were pressed against the cold wall as she crept around the corner, stepping over three limp bodies. They hadn’t been too much trouble to subdue – blurring the light around her, she had been all but invisible to the naked eye. She was merely grateful that none of them had thought to switch their goggle headsets to infrared.
Ahead of her, in the center of the corridor wall on the left, was an unmarked steel door. If the information she had beaten out of one of the guards was accurate, the command center for the whole complex was behind that door, along with access to the Red Market’s main database – and perhaps a few dozen more administrators and guards. She gathered her will about her and formed an invisible layer covering her body, refracting the light shining on her to give the effect of translucence.
Making her way to the door, Sham created the illusion of the door staying in place as she pushed it open as softly and noiselessly as possible. Her estimates had been a little high; there was little more than a skeleton crew on staff in the room – eight people in total, only two armed. Escape would be a piece of cake if she was compromised.
Sham turned on the closest terminal to the door. As the screen flashed to life, she created the illusion of a dead screen. After taking a moment to let the screen load, Sham input the access codes she had acquired from a Red Market agent at the last location she had hit; she stifled a sigh of relief when she discovered they were still active. She brought up the database search for subject AZHC-42 – Quiver. She checked the “location status” column, and saw that she had been too late. She cursed under her breath – they had already moved him off to the Idaho Falls chop shop hub. The good news, however, was that he was still in one piece.
She smiled at the fact that she had at least that small victory – as she went to turn off the terminal, Sham noticed a new line in the “related information” column of the database. Curious, she clicked on the tab for a full report. A new window popped up displaying a short paragraph detailing a contact within Halo City codenamed “Rocky Slim.” Sham wavered at the terminal for a second before turning it off and making for the door. The X-Men would want to know about this development, and she would tell them – if she had the time. After Quiver was safe, there would be time for that. Besides, Eddie and the team would never let things get far enough out of hand for the Red Market to establish themselves firmly.
***
“You all right, big guy?” Rosa asked, rubbing Eddie van Beethoven’s stainless steel back. Eddie shrugged her arm off and turned to the window of the Freakshow’s mobile home.
“M’fine,” he mumbled, propping his chin on his fist. He turned his body to a coarse iron ore to discourage further contact. Eddie watched the scenery fly by. The truck had long since traded the barren sands of the Nevada deserts for the greener plains of Texas. The plant life had only gotten more and more lush as they approached the wealthy area around the Freakshow’s final destination – Fort Bear. Eddie winced slightly as he saw the main gates of the town come into view through the vehicle’s windshield.
“Pretty…” the red-scaled pyrotechnic called Dominic wondered from his position in the mobile home’s passenger seat. Eddie grunted. Rosa gave him a disapproving frown and walked up behind Dominic’s seat and she and the boy stared in wonder at the sprawling homes and gardens behind the majestic white gates.
“How are we supposed to find these people in this maze?” Rosa’s morose brother Breakdown growled.
“White one of the west end,” Eddie mumbled absent-mindedly. Then, realizing he had spoken, Eddie made a subtle motion of covering his mouth and turning his face away from the group.
“What was that, honey?” Rosa asked. Eddie shook his head.
“You’ve been here before,” Breakdown said – it was not a question. Eddie shook his head.
“It’s no big deal, you can –” Rosa started.
Eddie burst from his chair and kicked open the mobile home’s door. He threw himself out of the moving vehicle, turning his skin into a solid titanium alloy he had picked up in Halo City. He hit the ground with a solid thump and rolled to a stop. He brought himself to his feet and stomped away.
“That looked fun,” Dominic said, turning back toward his cherished cityscape.
***
“I will not be calm! And I will not be satisfied until your city’s ‘waste solutions’ do not include poisoning my home!” Bloodhawk screamed, his face in human form turning as read as his scaly mutant form. Xi’an suppressed a smile under a serious scowl.
“We can’t just shut them down, flat-out. The city has needs, and those needs have certain consequences and byproducts at the moment. The only way to change that, is to find new ways to meet those needs, and that takes time,” Xi’an explained calmly. He gestured an invitation for Bloodhawk to return to his seat in the cafeteria of the Sisters of the Howling Commandment’s convent. It was the only place in the convent with enough space and tables for the pair to spread out and work. In the absence of computers at the convent, the pair was forced to work by paper.
Bloodhawk dropped to his seat, snarling. It had been difficult enough just getting the hot-headed environmentalist to agree to try different methods; it was proving harder still to curb his violent predisposition. Obviously, he had not often given reason a try very often.
“Why can we not shut the plant down, and then come up with new solutions?”
“Because,” Xi’an sighed, “We need the services HCWS provides to maintain sanitary conditions in the city.”
“And what about outside of the city?”
“That is why our first goal is to create a special reservoir for waste. We make sure that the reservoir is far from any local water sources so that it cannot contaminate the area surrounding the city any further,” Xi’an explained calmly.
“So you wish to build the waste up in one area? What happens when we run out of room in this reservoir?”
“We don’t. We steer the city toward eco-friendly power sources which will eliminate the largest waste-generator in the city. From there, the rest of the city’s waste will become negligible. Most garbage can be recycled for other uses, and sewage can be purified. We only need to be patient, but the plan will work.”
Bloodhawk growled again.
“Pray you aren’t wasting my time, mutant.”
Bloodhawk jumped to his feet and stormed out of the room. Xi’an had to stifle an amused laugh. Bloodhawk was cooperating – and that in itself was proving a major victory.
***
Shakti jumped in her seat when her office door slammed open. She moved her eyes toward the doorway and watched silently as Morphine Somers stalked in.
“What is he doing here?” Somers demanded, thrusting a finger in the direction of the desk opposite hers.
“Who? Henri? He’s my assistant. The Council approved him,” Shakti said placidly. Morphine’s face turned a deeper shade of red as he prepared for his next screaming session.
“I can’t have this administration tainted by association with the X-Men and their failures-”
“I was an X-Man, and you’ve basically recruited me to be your face on the council,” Shakti countered, barely hiding a grin.
“It’s not the same,” Morphine growled, “When the city needed you, you were here. He wasn’t, and I don’t want my Freedom Force associated with that kind of dereliction of duty.”
“He’s an ideal candidate for the position,” Shakti said, “He has a genius-level intellect, which makes him ideal at troubleshooting. His super-speed allows him to take care of the bureaucracy faster than anyone else could – it would take hundreds of workers to match his pace. Hiring him saves thousands of dollars on the budget – hell, he could probably take on more responsibilities if we –”
“Absolutely unacceptable. His involvement in the Protectorate should in no way be expanded – I don’t even want him here in the first place!” Morphine screamed.
“Well, he’s here. Deal with it,” Shakti said in a low growl.
“Oh, and look how wonderful he is! He’s been sitting here this whole time without once touching his computer! What have you been doing this whole time, Henri? Hmm? Working hard?”
“Actually, I finished all of my work about half an hour ago. I even took the liberty of setting Ms. Haddad’s schedule of meetings for the next four weeks,” Henri stated matter-of-factly. Morphine stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Ms. Haddad?” Shakti asked, incredulous. Henri shrugged.
“Seemed appropriate.”
The pair let smiles break their lips and give way to a torrent of laughter.
***
“How did we get stuck with grocery chores?” Victor asked, eyeballing the list in his hand. Krystalin smiled and plucked the piece of paper from his grip.
“We’re only looking for the fresh produce. At least we didn’t get the heavy stuff, like meat,” she said cheerily.
“Oh, that’s right – we’re only looking for enough fruit and vegetables to feed sixty nuns for a week. Piece of cake,” Victor said dryly. Krystalin rolled her eyes and pocketed the list.
“Most of these stores have agreed to deliver to the convent for free; it’s not like we have to carry it. Stop being such a baby.”
“I’m sorry – I just thought that with my level of expertise and… diverse skill set, Xi’an would be putting me to work in other areas,” Victor said.
“We’ve all got to pull our weight at the convent,” Krys said. “So suck it up, tough guy.”
Krys jabbed softly at his stomach, eliciting a begrudging grin.
“All right, all right – I –” Victor trailed off, eyes focusing on a trio of men at the mouth of an alley across the street. They were dressed in identical black coats, slacks, and sunglasses.
“Are you okay?” Krys asked, following his stare.
“Something about those –”
Victor was cut off as one of the men lashed out with his left hand, grabbing a haggard-looking passerby by the next. The attacker used his right hand to restrain his victim’s arms as one of the other attackers drew what looked to be a concealed gun from under his coat. He placed the weapon on the victim’s throat, and a barely audible hiss signaled the weapon’s firing. The victim stopped flailing and went completely limp.
Without further words, Krys and Victor had dashed across the street to the scene of the attack, but not before the trio of attackers had carried the victim off into the alley. The duo of X-Men gave pursuit into the alley, rushing to the back of the two buildings to find… nothing. The alley split at a T-intersection, with no sign of the attackers either way.
“Where’d they go?” Krys asked, whipping her head from left, to right, and back again. Victor said nothing, kneeling down and checking the debris and dust on the concrete in the alley. His hands felt along the ground, tracing something invisible to Krystalin’s eyes, but seemingly all too real to Victor.
“Victor?”
“These marks – scorch marks – see the pattern? Circles, radiating out from this one here,” Victor indicated a circle about five feet across. “About big enough to fit that whole group, yeah?”
“I guess. What are you getting at?”
“Teleportation. A relatively older model system, though, so it can’t be through the megacorps’ ‘port networks. They don’t leave marks anymore.”
“So, who…?”
“I don’t know. Someone outside the law, obviously. Otherwise, there’s really no way to tell unless we take some readings to find a point of origin,” Victor said, scowling and rising to his feet. “We should tell Xi’an. See if he can’t help us with the next step. Besides, my equipment’s at the convent anyway.”
“What about the groceries?”
“I think the sisters will understand.”
***
“I’m glad you could all make it here so quickly,” Xi’an announced, motioning for everyone assembled to take a seat at the cafeteria table. He looked around the group, meeting the eyes of each X-Man or –Woman assembled as he passed them; Tim – Skullfire, La Lunatica, Krystalin Ogada, Victor Ten Eagles, and Bloodhawk.
“Victor and Krys have brought something to my attention. This morning, they witnessed a man being abducted right off the sidewalk,” Xi’an began. Tim raised his hand.
“What do you want us to do about it?”
“I’ll get to that, Timothy. I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve come to a startling conclusion. The methodology of the abductors, combined with their choice of a seemingly random target, convinces me that we are dealing with the Red Market,” Xi’an declared seriously.
“That’s some pretty flimsy evidence, boss,” Luna said scornfully.
“On its own, yes,” Xi’an agreed. “However, there is more to it than that. Rumors of similar abductions are spreading all throughout the poorer sectors of the city – all using the same methods and targeting the same victims. Combined with Victor’s description of the abductors and my own… familiarity with the tactics of the Red Market, I feel it’s not too great a leap in logic.”
“So what are we going to do about it?” Krys said, “We’re not really the law anymore, so…”
“I know. That’s why I’d like you to go to the HCPD headquarters and report it directly to Shakti – there’s not a very good chance of anyone else listening to us,” Xi’an explained. Krystalin nodded and rose from the table. When she had reached the door, Tim rose to his feet.
“Well, if that’s everything, then, we’ll be going.”
“Not so fast, Timothy,” Xi’an cautioned, motioning for the young mutant to retake his seat. “We still have something to discuss. Even though I have faith in Shakti and Henri, I have none in Morphine Somers or his officers. We’ve been in this district of Halo City for a week, and I have not once seen a security officer patrolling the streets.”
“And?” Tim asked, obviously bored.
“And if Somers won’t protect these people, someone has to. Someone who cares about these people. Someone like us,” Xi’an stated plainly, leaning forward on his elbows and placing his chin on clasped hands, “Someone like the X-Men.”
***
“What do you mean my access is denied? I’m a citizen of Halo City, and as such –” Krystalin started before she was cut off by a heavy hand on her shoulder. She spun around and the familiar, sinister form of the traitor Junkpile loomed over her.
“Hey, meat,” he snarled. “You causing a disturbance in my city?”
“Out city, trash can,” a half-sized man in black leather corrected.
“Shut it, Small Fry,” Junkpile snapped back. “Now, you gonna get lost, meat, or do I get to gut another X-broad?”
Krystalin felt the heat rise in her face as she balled her fists at her sides.
“What did you say?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“Aw, she looks upset,” Junkpile teased, looking over his shoulder at the mutants assembled behind him. Krys noticed for the first time the number of his reinforcements; there were five of them, counting Junkpile and the dwarf. Also assembled were a panicky-looking young woman, a pulsating mound of what looked like garbage, and a lycanthropic woman baring her fangs. Each of them wore a badge with the letters “FF” embossed on the surface.
“Stand down, Junkpile,” a familiar voice said, accompanied by the sound of automatic doors hissing open. Krys turned around to see two friendly faces and one she could have gone the rest of her life without seeing. Shakti, Henri, and Morphine walked briskly towards the group of mutants gathered near the intercom.
“What seems to be the problem, Freedom Force?” Morphine asked, not hiding his smug pride. Junkpile relaxed his stance and turned to his green-haired boss.
“Got an uncooperative suspect right here, chief,” Junkpile said, jerking a thumb in Krystalin’s direction. “Refuses to follow an officer’s orders.”
“You didn’t issue any orders, Junkhead – and I’m just trying to file a report,” Krys retorted. Junkpile balled a fist and took a step toward her, but Morphine motioned for him to calm down.
“File away, ma’am. We here in the Halo City security force relish the opportunity to serve our citizens,” Morphine said with a sarcastic smile. Krys looked from Somers to Shakti, who nodded at her former teammate.
“I’d like to report a kidnapping I witnessed in the Low Markets. Three men, dressed alike, all in black, abducted a man near an alley. I followed them with my… friend, Victor Ten Eagles, but we came up empty. We suspect they may have used teleportation equipment to get away,” Krys stated, matter-of-factly.
“We’ll look into it. Now if there’s nothing else?” Morphine said, waving her away. Krys stared at him seriously, but did not move. Morphine’s face turned sour.
“I’ll handle this,” Shakti said, “Take the FF and go inside, Morphine.”
Somers grunted and nodded towards the door. Freedom Force fell in line behind their boss and filed into the door, sneering at Krys as they entered the Halo City Protectorate building one at a time.
“Sorry about that, Krys,” Shakti said with an apologetic smile.
“Interesting company you’re keeping these days, Shak,” Krystalin said coldly.
“I know, I know… just… try to understand.”
“I do understand, Shakti. I really do – I know you owe it to your father, even though he doesn’t deserve it. I know what that’s like. But just because I understand, doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Krys said, turning to walk away.
“Krys,” Shakti said as the later turned around. “We’ll look into this. I promise.”
“I know you will, but will they?” Krys said. “Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention. Xi’an believes the abduction was related to the Red Market. Add that to the report. Bye, Henri.”
“Toodle-oo,” Henri waved. He stared at Krys as she walked away before turning to Shakti. “She’s wrong, you know.”
“About what?”
“You don’t owe it to your dad to stay here. You don’t owe him scrap.”
“No, I suppose I don’t – but I do owe it to myself. I believe that all life is worth fighting for, even the hopeless cases. If I give up on that, then…”
“All right, all right. Stop the pathos train. I’ll stick with you, kid, but be careful. Don’t stay here so long you lose sight of what you just said.”
“I won’t,” Shakti said, leaning forward and putting her arms around Henri’s neck. “And thanks.”
“Aw, shucks. You know I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”
***
“I hope this is important, Book,” Morphine Somers said, sinking into the plush leather chair behind his desk. He had dimmed the windows in his office, blocking the chance for anyone to see inside. Book’s stony face glowed from the holocom on his desk.
“I’ve just received word from our… friend, Mr. R. He informs us that his superiors have agreed to your terms.”
“Excellent,” Morphine said, grinning widely.
“There’s more. I’ve been informed to expect a truck to arrive to help set up a more… permanent base of operations in the slums. Mr. R and his superiors request that it not be obstructed.”
“Very well. I’ll have Twoth and Mess shadow the truck on its route. They’ll have the easiest time staying hidden while providing maximum protection to the vehicle. Mess will follow close by, hiding himself as common debris, while Twoth will follow on the rooftops, sending her duplicates to surround the vehicle on all sides.”
“I’ll give them their orders right away, sir,” Book said.
“Sir. I love the sound of that word,” Morphine mused. Book smiled and the holocom went dark.
***
“Sir. I love the sound of that word.”
Book hit the end call button with a forced smile.
“I know you do, you arrogant pig,” Book mumbled to himself. He turned back to his computer, bringing up his messenger application. He opened a new document addressed to Mr. R.
Have informed Somers of his orders. He has complied with your request at or above expectations. Assigned two Protectorate officers to escort shipment.
Book hit send. In a few seconds, he received a reply.
Excellent. Keep us informed of further developments.
Book took the message in, and thought of closing the application. Before he did, he typed one last message.
Understood. Keep me informed on the status of my request.
Book closed the program and turned off the computer screen. He smiled to himself and leaned back in his hoverchair, satisfied.
***
Sham crept into the open door of the Red Market chop shop. She couldn’t see any guards in the vicinity, but she took no chances. She kept a shroud of invisibility around herself, her eyes darting all around the area in front of her. She noticed bars marking off different zones of the wide open space. She stifled a gasp when the realization hit her.
She was in the prisoner pens.
Quiver could be in here – he could be within feet of her, or – no. She had to find him specifically. She would stick to the plan, find his specific berth, and rescue Quiver without raising any alarms. She would – she would…
Her eyes scanned the pens. She saw herself and Quiver in a hundred faces – a thousand eyes staring listlessly to the ceiling, devoid of hope. She breathed deeply. Quiver was a prisoner. He’d be in the pens anyway. Just because she opened the door, didn’t mean she’d have to protect all of these people. She could just find Quiver, and give these people at least a chance on their own. It didn’t take her long to find the controls for the pens – two guards stood on either side of a set of controls, conversing with each other and occasionally laughing a little too loud.
Sham made her way across the room to where the two stood, relaxed. Sneaking up behind one of them, she drew his sidearm from his holster and placed it against the back of the guard’s head. She fired twice in short succession; the first cleared a path through guard one’s head. The second found purchase right between guard two’s eyes.
“Should’ve worn those helmets, boys,” Sham smirked, dropping her invisibility and hitting the big, red “open” button on the console. “Listen up, people!”
The pen doors swung open, and a wave of confusion could be heard to ripple amongst the prisoners. Sham stepped into the center of the aisle and whistled hard.
“Everybody run!” Sham shouted. “You’re free if you can get away before they sound the alarm!”
The noise in the room rose from a quiet murmur to a rolling wave of thunder as the prisoners stampeded toward the door; all but one. A smooth-skinned, bald boy, probably in his late teens, shoved his way through the crowd toward Sham.
“Sh-Sham?” the boy whimpered. “Is that you?”
“I – how do you know my name?” she asked.
“It’s me… Quiver,” the boy responded weakly. “They… they switched my body.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Catalina Wyngarde. That’s your real name. Who else knows that?” the boy said meekly.
“Nobody living. What… what happened to you?”
“Some guy – an assassin, I think – had terminal cancer – in the bones. Marrow. Hurts… bad. This guy… wanted a body… with my power set. Red Market gave it to him, planned to sell me to the Theatre of Pain. They were going to harvest the pain of my death for sale.”
“Why would they tell you all of that?”
“Because… it hurts worse when you know what’s coming… and there’s nothing you can do to stop it,” Quiver said, tears budding at the corners of his eyes. Sham put an arm around his shoulder.
“I’m here now, Quiv. We’ll find your body in the database, get it back, then –” Sham was cut off by the blare of alarms. “Shock. Change of plans; we can’t stay here or they’ll catch us. We’ll retreat back to Halo City and set you up somewhere they’ll take care of you, then I’ll find your body. I swear I will.”
“Thank you. I… it’s hard for me to walk,” Quiver whispered.
“It’s okay. We can afford to be a little slower when we’re invisible.”
***
Eddie van Beethoven sat on a boulder in the middle of an open field of grass. Rusted and ill-kept playground equipment surrounded him; he was staring intently at a broken-down swing set, a troubled frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. Rosa approached him quietly, telling Breakdown to keep his distance.
“Hey, Eddie,” She said softly, putting a hand on his back. The area under her hand turned to gold. Eddie turned his head to look at her.
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Guess I lost it on the truck, there, huh? Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. What happened?”
“I… I grew up here, with my family… the Van Burens.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So…”
“When I was a kid… we were so happy together. My dad and I used to come to this park, and he would push me on that swing. When I saw a traveling dance troupe when I was four, and I told him I wanted to be a dancer, he hired the best instructors from all over the world to come teach me. It was great… until he found out I was a mutant. Then… then he arranged to have me sent away to the academy to study dance. The anger in his voice… he wouldn’t even let me keep his name. He enrolled me under the name van Beethoven.”
“Oh my God…”
“Yeah. But… screw that scrap, I figured. I didn’t want his name anyway, anymore. If he didn’t want me as his son, I sure as shock didn’t want him as my father.”
“That’s terrible,” Rosa said, rubbing Eddie’s back. It was futile, she knew – he couldn’t feel anything through his metal skin. Something told her that Eddie appreciated the gesture anyway.
“What would Mama want with a mutant-hater like Van Buren, then?” a gruff voice asked from behind the pair. Rosa and Eddie turned around to see Breakdown staring them down with arms crossed.
“I have no idea, BD. No idea…”
***
END
***
The Red Market had kidnapped her friend from his apartment several days ago – or had it been weeks? – it was getting harder to remember as the hunt dragged on. Sham again shook her head – she was in the field, which called for focus. Her fingers were pressed against the cold wall as she crept around the corner, stepping over three limp bodies. They hadn’t been too much trouble to subdue – blurring the light around her, she had been all but invisible to the naked eye. She was merely grateful that none of them had thought to switch their goggle headsets to infrared.
Ahead of her, in the center of the corridor wall on the left, was an unmarked steel door. If the information she had beaten out of one of the guards was accurate, the command center for the whole complex was behind that door, along with access to the Red Market’s main database – and perhaps a few dozen more administrators and guards. She gathered her will about her and formed an invisible layer covering her body, refracting the light shining on her to give the effect of translucence.
Making her way to the door, Sham created the illusion of the door staying in place as she pushed it open as softly and noiselessly as possible. Her estimates had been a little high; there was little more than a skeleton crew on staff in the room – eight people in total, only two armed. Escape would be a piece of cake if she was compromised.
Sham turned on the closest terminal to the door. As the screen flashed to life, she created the illusion of a dead screen. After taking a moment to let the screen load, Sham input the access codes she had acquired from a Red Market agent at the last location she had hit; she stifled a sigh of relief when she discovered they were still active. She brought up the database search for subject AZHC-42 – Quiver. She checked the “location status” column, and saw that she had been too late. She cursed under her breath – they had already moved him off to the Idaho Falls chop shop hub. The good news, however, was that he was still in one piece.
She smiled at the fact that she had at least that small victory – as she went to turn off the terminal, Sham noticed a new line in the “related information” column of the database. Curious, she clicked on the tab for a full report. A new window popped up displaying a short paragraph detailing a contact within Halo City codenamed “Rocky Slim.” Sham wavered at the terminal for a second before turning it off and making for the door. The X-Men would want to know about this development, and she would tell them – if she had the time. After Quiver was safe, there would be time for that. Besides, Eddie and the team would never let things get far enough out of hand for the Red Market to establish themselves firmly.
***
“You all right, big guy?” Rosa asked, rubbing Eddie van Beethoven’s stainless steel back. Eddie shrugged her arm off and turned to the window of the Freakshow’s mobile home.
“M’fine,” he mumbled, propping his chin on his fist. He turned his body to a coarse iron ore to discourage further contact. Eddie watched the scenery fly by. The truck had long since traded the barren sands of the Nevada deserts for the greener plains of Texas. The plant life had only gotten more and more lush as they approached the wealthy area around the Freakshow’s final destination – Fort Bear. Eddie winced slightly as he saw the main gates of the town come into view through the vehicle’s windshield.
“Pretty…” the red-scaled pyrotechnic called Dominic wondered from his position in the mobile home’s passenger seat. Eddie grunted. Rosa gave him a disapproving frown and walked up behind Dominic’s seat and she and the boy stared in wonder at the sprawling homes and gardens behind the majestic white gates.
“How are we supposed to find these people in this maze?” Rosa’s morose brother Breakdown growled.
“White one of the west end,” Eddie mumbled absent-mindedly. Then, realizing he had spoken, Eddie made a subtle motion of covering his mouth and turning his face away from the group.
“What was that, honey?” Rosa asked. Eddie shook his head.
“You’ve been here before,” Breakdown said – it was not a question. Eddie shook his head.
“It’s no big deal, you can –” Rosa started.
Eddie burst from his chair and kicked open the mobile home’s door. He threw himself out of the moving vehicle, turning his skin into a solid titanium alloy he had picked up in Halo City. He hit the ground with a solid thump and rolled to a stop. He brought himself to his feet and stomped away.
“That looked fun,” Dominic said, turning back toward his cherished cityscape.
***
“I will not be calm! And I will not be satisfied until your city’s ‘waste solutions’ do not include poisoning my home!” Bloodhawk screamed, his face in human form turning as read as his scaly mutant form. Xi’an suppressed a smile under a serious scowl.
“We can’t just shut them down, flat-out. The city has needs, and those needs have certain consequences and byproducts at the moment. The only way to change that, is to find new ways to meet those needs, and that takes time,” Xi’an explained calmly. He gestured an invitation for Bloodhawk to return to his seat in the cafeteria of the Sisters of the Howling Commandment’s convent. It was the only place in the convent with enough space and tables for the pair to spread out and work. In the absence of computers at the convent, the pair was forced to work by paper.
Bloodhawk dropped to his seat, snarling. It had been difficult enough just getting the hot-headed environmentalist to agree to try different methods; it was proving harder still to curb his violent predisposition. Obviously, he had not often given reason a try very often.
“Why can we not shut the plant down, and then come up with new solutions?”
“Because,” Xi’an sighed, “We need the services HCWS provides to maintain sanitary conditions in the city.”
“And what about outside of the city?”
“That is why our first goal is to create a special reservoir for waste. We make sure that the reservoir is far from any local water sources so that it cannot contaminate the area surrounding the city any further,” Xi’an explained calmly.
“So you wish to build the waste up in one area? What happens when we run out of room in this reservoir?”
“We don’t. We steer the city toward eco-friendly power sources which will eliminate the largest waste-generator in the city. From there, the rest of the city’s waste will become negligible. Most garbage can be recycled for other uses, and sewage can be purified. We only need to be patient, but the plan will work.”
Bloodhawk growled again.
“Pray you aren’t wasting my time, mutant.”
Bloodhawk jumped to his feet and stormed out of the room. Xi’an had to stifle an amused laugh. Bloodhawk was cooperating – and that in itself was proving a major victory.
***
Shakti jumped in her seat when her office door slammed open. She moved her eyes toward the doorway and watched silently as Morphine Somers stalked in.
“What is he doing here?” Somers demanded, thrusting a finger in the direction of the desk opposite hers.
“Who? Henri? He’s my assistant. The Council approved him,” Shakti said placidly. Morphine’s face turned a deeper shade of red as he prepared for his next screaming session.
“I can’t have this administration tainted by association with the X-Men and their failures-”
“I was an X-Man, and you’ve basically recruited me to be your face on the council,” Shakti countered, barely hiding a grin.
“It’s not the same,” Morphine growled, “When the city needed you, you were here. He wasn’t, and I don’t want my Freedom Force associated with that kind of dereliction of duty.”
“He’s an ideal candidate for the position,” Shakti said, “He has a genius-level intellect, which makes him ideal at troubleshooting. His super-speed allows him to take care of the bureaucracy faster than anyone else could – it would take hundreds of workers to match his pace. Hiring him saves thousands of dollars on the budget – hell, he could probably take on more responsibilities if we –”
“Absolutely unacceptable. His involvement in the Protectorate should in no way be expanded – I don’t even want him here in the first place!” Morphine screamed.
“Well, he’s here. Deal with it,” Shakti said in a low growl.
“Oh, and look how wonderful he is! He’s been sitting here this whole time without once touching his computer! What have you been doing this whole time, Henri? Hmm? Working hard?”
“Actually, I finished all of my work about half an hour ago. I even took the liberty of setting Ms. Haddad’s schedule of meetings for the next four weeks,” Henri stated matter-of-factly. Morphine stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Ms. Haddad?” Shakti asked, incredulous. Henri shrugged.
“Seemed appropriate.”
The pair let smiles break their lips and give way to a torrent of laughter.
***
“How did we get stuck with grocery chores?” Victor asked, eyeballing the list in his hand. Krystalin smiled and plucked the piece of paper from his grip.
“We’re only looking for the fresh produce. At least we didn’t get the heavy stuff, like meat,” she said cheerily.
“Oh, that’s right – we’re only looking for enough fruit and vegetables to feed sixty nuns for a week. Piece of cake,” Victor said dryly. Krystalin rolled her eyes and pocketed the list.
“Most of these stores have agreed to deliver to the convent for free; it’s not like we have to carry it. Stop being such a baby.”
“I’m sorry – I just thought that with my level of expertise and… diverse skill set, Xi’an would be putting me to work in other areas,” Victor said.
“We’ve all got to pull our weight at the convent,” Krys said. “So suck it up, tough guy.”
Krys jabbed softly at his stomach, eliciting a begrudging grin.
“All right, all right – I –” Victor trailed off, eyes focusing on a trio of men at the mouth of an alley across the street. They were dressed in identical black coats, slacks, and sunglasses.
“Are you okay?” Krys asked, following his stare.
“Something about those –”
Victor was cut off as one of the men lashed out with his left hand, grabbing a haggard-looking passerby by the next. The attacker used his right hand to restrain his victim’s arms as one of the other attackers drew what looked to be a concealed gun from under his coat. He placed the weapon on the victim’s throat, and a barely audible hiss signaled the weapon’s firing. The victim stopped flailing and went completely limp.
Without further words, Krys and Victor had dashed across the street to the scene of the attack, but not before the trio of attackers had carried the victim off into the alley. The duo of X-Men gave pursuit into the alley, rushing to the back of the two buildings to find… nothing. The alley split at a T-intersection, with no sign of the attackers either way.
“Where’d they go?” Krys asked, whipping her head from left, to right, and back again. Victor said nothing, kneeling down and checking the debris and dust on the concrete in the alley. His hands felt along the ground, tracing something invisible to Krystalin’s eyes, but seemingly all too real to Victor.
“Victor?”
“These marks – scorch marks – see the pattern? Circles, radiating out from this one here,” Victor indicated a circle about five feet across. “About big enough to fit that whole group, yeah?”
“I guess. What are you getting at?”
“Teleportation. A relatively older model system, though, so it can’t be through the megacorps’ ‘port networks. They don’t leave marks anymore.”
“So, who…?”
“I don’t know. Someone outside the law, obviously. Otherwise, there’s really no way to tell unless we take some readings to find a point of origin,” Victor said, scowling and rising to his feet. “We should tell Xi’an. See if he can’t help us with the next step. Besides, my equipment’s at the convent anyway.”
“What about the groceries?”
“I think the sisters will understand.”
***
“I’m glad you could all make it here so quickly,” Xi’an announced, motioning for everyone assembled to take a seat at the cafeteria table. He looked around the group, meeting the eyes of each X-Man or –Woman assembled as he passed them; Tim – Skullfire, La Lunatica, Krystalin Ogada, Victor Ten Eagles, and Bloodhawk.
“Victor and Krys have brought something to my attention. This morning, they witnessed a man being abducted right off the sidewalk,” Xi’an began. Tim raised his hand.
“What do you want us to do about it?”
“I’ll get to that, Timothy. I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve come to a startling conclusion. The methodology of the abductors, combined with their choice of a seemingly random target, convinces me that we are dealing with the Red Market,” Xi’an declared seriously.
“That’s some pretty flimsy evidence, boss,” Luna said scornfully.
“On its own, yes,” Xi’an agreed. “However, there is more to it than that. Rumors of similar abductions are spreading all throughout the poorer sectors of the city – all using the same methods and targeting the same victims. Combined with Victor’s description of the abductors and my own… familiarity with the tactics of the Red Market, I feel it’s not too great a leap in logic.”
“So what are we going to do about it?” Krys said, “We’re not really the law anymore, so…”
“I know. That’s why I’d like you to go to the HCPD headquarters and report it directly to Shakti – there’s not a very good chance of anyone else listening to us,” Xi’an explained. Krystalin nodded and rose from the table. When she had reached the door, Tim rose to his feet.
“Well, if that’s everything, then, we’ll be going.”
“Not so fast, Timothy,” Xi’an cautioned, motioning for the young mutant to retake his seat. “We still have something to discuss. Even though I have faith in Shakti and Henri, I have none in Morphine Somers or his officers. We’ve been in this district of Halo City for a week, and I have not once seen a security officer patrolling the streets.”
“And?” Tim asked, obviously bored.
“And if Somers won’t protect these people, someone has to. Someone who cares about these people. Someone like us,” Xi’an stated plainly, leaning forward on his elbows and placing his chin on clasped hands, “Someone like the X-Men.”
***
“What do you mean my access is denied? I’m a citizen of Halo City, and as such –” Krystalin started before she was cut off by a heavy hand on her shoulder. She spun around and the familiar, sinister form of the traitor Junkpile loomed over her.
“Hey, meat,” he snarled. “You causing a disturbance in my city?”
“Out city, trash can,” a half-sized man in black leather corrected.
“Shut it, Small Fry,” Junkpile snapped back. “Now, you gonna get lost, meat, or do I get to gut another X-broad?”
Krystalin felt the heat rise in her face as she balled her fists at her sides.
“What did you say?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“Aw, she looks upset,” Junkpile teased, looking over his shoulder at the mutants assembled behind him. Krys noticed for the first time the number of his reinforcements; there were five of them, counting Junkpile and the dwarf. Also assembled were a panicky-looking young woman, a pulsating mound of what looked like garbage, and a lycanthropic woman baring her fangs. Each of them wore a badge with the letters “FF” embossed on the surface.
“Stand down, Junkpile,” a familiar voice said, accompanied by the sound of automatic doors hissing open. Krys turned around to see two friendly faces and one she could have gone the rest of her life without seeing. Shakti, Henri, and Morphine walked briskly towards the group of mutants gathered near the intercom.
“What seems to be the problem, Freedom Force?” Morphine asked, not hiding his smug pride. Junkpile relaxed his stance and turned to his green-haired boss.
“Got an uncooperative suspect right here, chief,” Junkpile said, jerking a thumb in Krystalin’s direction. “Refuses to follow an officer’s orders.”
“You didn’t issue any orders, Junkhead – and I’m just trying to file a report,” Krys retorted. Junkpile balled a fist and took a step toward her, but Morphine motioned for him to calm down.
“File away, ma’am. We here in the Halo City security force relish the opportunity to serve our citizens,” Morphine said with a sarcastic smile. Krys looked from Somers to Shakti, who nodded at her former teammate.
“I’d like to report a kidnapping I witnessed in the Low Markets. Three men, dressed alike, all in black, abducted a man near an alley. I followed them with my… friend, Victor Ten Eagles, but we came up empty. We suspect they may have used teleportation equipment to get away,” Krys stated, matter-of-factly.
“We’ll look into it. Now if there’s nothing else?” Morphine said, waving her away. Krys stared at him seriously, but did not move. Morphine’s face turned sour.
“I’ll handle this,” Shakti said, “Take the FF and go inside, Morphine.”
Somers grunted and nodded towards the door. Freedom Force fell in line behind their boss and filed into the door, sneering at Krys as they entered the Halo City Protectorate building one at a time.
“Sorry about that, Krys,” Shakti said with an apologetic smile.
“Interesting company you’re keeping these days, Shak,” Krystalin said coldly.
“I know, I know… just… try to understand.”
“I do understand, Shakti. I really do – I know you owe it to your father, even though he doesn’t deserve it. I know what that’s like. But just because I understand, doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Krys said, turning to walk away.
“Krys,” Shakti said as the later turned around. “We’ll look into this. I promise.”
“I know you will, but will they?” Krys said. “Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention. Xi’an believes the abduction was related to the Red Market. Add that to the report. Bye, Henri.”
“Toodle-oo,” Henri waved. He stared at Krys as she walked away before turning to Shakti. “She’s wrong, you know.”
“About what?”
“You don’t owe it to your dad to stay here. You don’t owe him scrap.”
“No, I suppose I don’t – but I do owe it to myself. I believe that all life is worth fighting for, even the hopeless cases. If I give up on that, then…”
“All right, all right. Stop the pathos train. I’ll stick with you, kid, but be careful. Don’t stay here so long you lose sight of what you just said.”
“I won’t,” Shakti said, leaning forward and putting her arms around Henri’s neck. “And thanks.”
“Aw, shucks. You know I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”
***
“I hope this is important, Book,” Morphine Somers said, sinking into the plush leather chair behind his desk. He had dimmed the windows in his office, blocking the chance for anyone to see inside. Book’s stony face glowed from the holocom on his desk.
“I’ve just received word from our… friend, Mr. R. He informs us that his superiors have agreed to your terms.”
“Excellent,” Morphine said, grinning widely.
“There’s more. I’ve been informed to expect a truck to arrive to help set up a more… permanent base of operations in the slums. Mr. R and his superiors request that it not be obstructed.”
“Very well. I’ll have Twoth and Mess shadow the truck on its route. They’ll have the easiest time staying hidden while providing maximum protection to the vehicle. Mess will follow close by, hiding himself as common debris, while Twoth will follow on the rooftops, sending her duplicates to surround the vehicle on all sides.”
“I’ll give them their orders right away, sir,” Book said.
“Sir. I love the sound of that word,” Morphine mused. Book smiled and the holocom went dark.
***
“Sir. I love the sound of that word.”
Book hit the end call button with a forced smile.
“I know you do, you arrogant pig,” Book mumbled to himself. He turned back to his computer, bringing up his messenger application. He opened a new document addressed to Mr. R.
Have informed Somers of his orders. He has complied with your request at or above expectations. Assigned two Protectorate officers to escort shipment.
Book hit send. In a few seconds, he received a reply.
Excellent. Keep us informed of further developments.
Book took the message in, and thought of closing the application. Before he did, he typed one last message.
Understood. Keep me informed on the status of my request.
Book closed the program and turned off the computer screen. He smiled to himself and leaned back in his hoverchair, satisfied.
***
Sham crept into the open door of the Red Market chop shop. She couldn’t see any guards in the vicinity, but she took no chances. She kept a shroud of invisibility around herself, her eyes darting all around the area in front of her. She noticed bars marking off different zones of the wide open space. She stifled a gasp when the realization hit her.
She was in the prisoner pens.
Quiver could be in here – he could be within feet of her, or – no. She had to find him specifically. She would stick to the plan, find his specific berth, and rescue Quiver without raising any alarms. She would – she would…
Her eyes scanned the pens. She saw herself and Quiver in a hundred faces – a thousand eyes staring listlessly to the ceiling, devoid of hope. She breathed deeply. Quiver was a prisoner. He’d be in the pens anyway. Just because she opened the door, didn’t mean she’d have to protect all of these people. She could just find Quiver, and give these people at least a chance on their own. It didn’t take her long to find the controls for the pens – two guards stood on either side of a set of controls, conversing with each other and occasionally laughing a little too loud.
Sham made her way across the room to where the two stood, relaxed. Sneaking up behind one of them, she drew his sidearm from his holster and placed it against the back of the guard’s head. She fired twice in short succession; the first cleared a path through guard one’s head. The second found purchase right between guard two’s eyes.
“Should’ve worn those helmets, boys,” Sham smirked, dropping her invisibility and hitting the big, red “open” button on the console. “Listen up, people!”
The pen doors swung open, and a wave of confusion could be heard to ripple amongst the prisoners. Sham stepped into the center of the aisle and whistled hard.
“Everybody run!” Sham shouted. “You’re free if you can get away before they sound the alarm!”
The noise in the room rose from a quiet murmur to a rolling wave of thunder as the prisoners stampeded toward the door; all but one. A smooth-skinned, bald boy, probably in his late teens, shoved his way through the crowd toward Sham.
“Sh-Sham?” the boy whimpered. “Is that you?”
“I – how do you know my name?” she asked.
“It’s me… Quiver,” the boy responded weakly. “They… they switched my body.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Catalina Wyngarde. That’s your real name. Who else knows that?” the boy said meekly.
“Nobody living. What… what happened to you?”
“Some guy – an assassin, I think – had terminal cancer – in the bones. Marrow. Hurts… bad. This guy… wanted a body… with my power set. Red Market gave it to him, planned to sell me to the Theatre of Pain. They were going to harvest the pain of my death for sale.”
“Why would they tell you all of that?”
“Because… it hurts worse when you know what’s coming… and there’s nothing you can do to stop it,” Quiver said, tears budding at the corners of his eyes. Sham put an arm around his shoulder.
“I’m here now, Quiv. We’ll find your body in the database, get it back, then –” Sham was cut off by the blare of alarms. “Shock. Change of plans; we can’t stay here or they’ll catch us. We’ll retreat back to Halo City and set you up somewhere they’ll take care of you, then I’ll find your body. I swear I will.”
“Thank you. I… it’s hard for me to walk,” Quiver whispered.
“It’s okay. We can afford to be a little slower when we’re invisible.”
***
Eddie van Beethoven sat on a boulder in the middle of an open field of grass. Rusted and ill-kept playground equipment surrounded him; he was staring intently at a broken-down swing set, a troubled frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. Rosa approached him quietly, telling Breakdown to keep his distance.
“Hey, Eddie,” She said softly, putting a hand on his back. The area under her hand turned to gold. Eddie turned his head to look at her.
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Guess I lost it on the truck, there, huh? Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. What happened?”
“I… I grew up here, with my family… the Van Burens.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So…”
“When I was a kid… we were so happy together. My dad and I used to come to this park, and he would push me on that swing. When I saw a traveling dance troupe when I was four, and I told him I wanted to be a dancer, he hired the best instructors from all over the world to come teach me. It was great… until he found out I was a mutant. Then… then he arranged to have me sent away to the academy to study dance. The anger in his voice… he wouldn’t even let me keep his name. He enrolled me under the name van Beethoven.”
“Oh my God…”
“Yeah. But… screw that scrap, I figured. I didn’t want his name anyway, anymore. If he didn’t want me as his son, I sure as shock didn’t want him as my father.”
“That’s terrible,” Rosa said, rubbing Eddie’s back. It was futile, she knew – he couldn’t feel anything through his metal skin. Something told her that Eddie appreciated the gesture anyway.
“What would Mama want with a mutant-hater like Van Buren, then?” a gruff voice asked from behind the pair. Rosa and Eddie turned around to see Breakdown staring them down with arms crossed.
“I have no idea, BD. No idea…”
***
END
***