Showing posts with label SPYGOD is ****ed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SPYGOD is ****ed. Show all posts

Monday, January 25, 2016

TechnOlympos: 1/18/16 - 1/24/16

"You Take On Everything / In a Peculiar Manner"

Arachnoid, Shatter (*ahem* SPYGOD), Zephyr, Free Fire

(Art by Dean Stahl)
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32
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Monday: 1/18/16

First there is the dark, lurking above the desert -- silence broken only by the wind.

Then there the light of explosion after explosion -- white hot balls all in a line. 

Then there is sound, striking a quick moment later -- the slow rhythm of a helicopter.

Then there is cheering, as the Fire Base revels in the kill -- loud and obscene, like at a game.

Then there is battle, sudden and brutal -- ground fighters, trying to take Anadan yet again.

And then there is slaughter, total and complete -- talents lying in wait for what the fire brought...

* * *

"Min fadlik," the ragged remnant of a man whimpers to the six-armed man standing above him, looking for all the world like some metal, pagan demon: "Bismillah..."

"No," Arachnoid says, stomping a heavy, steel foot down on the man's chest. Something cracks and something else squishes, and then it's all over.

"That is all for these ones, then," Russian Steel announces, shaking pieces of his former adversaries from his hands: "Are there being any more?"

"Not from this corner," Bouclier Blanc says, his shield glowing as he comes from the darkness, and smoking as the blood that coats it crackles off like a bug on a zapper: "I have dealt with them all."

"We took care of ours," Shatter -- AKA SPYGOD -- says, whipping his long, blonde hair about and twirling the swords he made for the occasion as he exits the dark with Chinmoku at his side.

"I can hear them screaming, still," Chinmoku says, looking past the very ragged pile of bodies they have just left on the approach to Anadan: "Unsure of their destination. Wondering why they have been abandoned by their God."

"Must be disturbing," Arachnoid ventures, wiping the last combatant's gooey bits off his boot.

"No," Chinmoku says, the fire reflected in his sunglasses. His smile is terrifying. 

"There is being no god," the tall, metal Russian says, spitting something akin to solder into the blood-soaked sands: "Not here, this night."

"Got that right," SPYGOD says, looking at Demir Ruzgar as he sits right where they left him -- wrapped in a human ball and staring out into the darkness.

"You," Bouclier Blanc tells the hero from Turkey: "Take the bodies away. Toss them into the dumpster. Burn them."

The broken man nods, and slowly unwinds himself to obey. He's wet himself at least a couple times today, and the smell is awful.

"So what the hell happened to him?" SPYGOD asks Russian Steel: "He break when the dude from Qatar bought it?"

"What happened to Al Mubaraz is none of your concern," the French hero quickly interjects.

"I was more worried about that guy," he replies, pointing back to Demir as he slowly takes each dead ground fighter and hurls them towards a blacked, metal dumpster, not far away.

"He saw something his mind could not understand," Chinmoku explains, watching as a dead enemy slams up against the dumpster and slides down: "Sometimes revelation is not kind."

"Should he be out in the field, then?"

"Should you?" Arachnoid sniffs, turning to go help the Turkish hero dispose of the night's haul.

"Sometimes the only way out is through, Shatter," Bouclier Blanc says, turning to look SPYGOD in the face: "You will understand, in time."

SPYGOD doesn't say anything to that. He just stands there and watches as the bodies of the men they just ripped through like corn through a thresher are tossed into the rusting, steel dumpster, and then set afire with a white phosphorus grenade.

As he watches, he becomes very aware that Chinmoku is watching him. 

And something about his gaze makes him feel very uneasy, as though he was a mere second away from deciding to end his masquerade with a swift fist to -- and then through -- his chest...

Tuesday: 1/19/16

"... yes, that's right," Randolph Scott shouts down the burner phone, holding his gun up as though it might somehow help the matter: "I've paid you very well to get me some !@#$ing information. And I had better !@#$ing get that information, or I'm going to walk all the goddamn way to Portsmouth, and do a four-bagger on you.

"Oh, you don't know what that is? It's where I expose someone so !@#$ing badly that no one will !@#$ you unless you're wearing a bag, they're wearing a bag, there's a bag on the light so they can't !@#$ing see, and a bag on the damn dog so it doesn't !@#$ing throw up!

"No, that doesn't make any goddamn sense!" the outlaw reporter shrieks, his voice bouncing around the otherwise-empty main office of THIS IS BULL!@#$: "And neither does your !@#$ing talking to me while you're supposed to be finding out what I need! Now move it!"

And then he slams the phone down. Picks it up. Stares at it. Slams it down again. Wonders why it isn't broken yet.

Alllllmost shoots it... but then remembers the guy needs to call him back. Eventually.

"I think someone needs to take the gun away from your father," Velma finally says to Helga as they stand outside the door, very afraid to go into the room right now.

"I'm not going in there," Helga wisely says, looking at the bullet holes he's already left in the walls, cabinets, and land lines. 

"I will," Helmut says, adjusting his leather hat and looking at the two of them, and then all the other staffers cowering outside the door: "If I don't come back? Jello can have my hat."

"He doesn't want it, brother," Helga says.

"I know," the clone says, winking. And then he heads in, half-expecting Randolph to shoot him.

"Hey," the outlaw reporter says, somewhat weakly. He clearly needs either more or less of the whiskey he's almost blown through since he woke up this morning.

"Hey," Helmut says, grabbing a rolling chair, turning it around so he can lean his arms onto the back of it, and plopping down in it, maybe a foot or two from Randolph: "How are you doing?"

"How am I doing?" Randolph asks, incredulous: "Jesus, son. How are you doing?"

"Pretty !@#$ty, really," the clone says, pushing his hat up so he can look his father in the eyes: "I know we didn't talk about it much with you when Gunther died. But when you're linked up with someone as we are? Death... well, it feels like a piece of our soul's been ripped out. Two pieces, this time."

"I'm sorry," Randolph says, his red eyes becoming very wet: "And I'm not handling this very well, I know."

"No, you're not," Helmut says, reaching out to take the gun from his father's very loose grip: "You're scaring everyone. You're drunk. And you're acting like a cartoon."

"Hey!" Velma says through the door.

"No offense, Velma," the clone says, sighing: "But seriously, dad. This is no good. I understand rage. I understand grief. And I understand feeling helpless, especially since there's been no official word on either of them."

"Exactly!" Randolph shouts, banging his fist on the table: "You say they're dead? I believe you. But two interns can't just die on that bastard's time without the press going crazy about it. So where the !@#$ are the headlines? Where the !@#$ are the bodies?"

He holds a hand up to his eyes, then. It becomes very wet very quickly.

"But you're doing all you can, father," Helmut says: "You've paid one cop to find out why there's nothing in the paper about a couple of dead interns in a Holiday Inn. You paid the night front desk guy to ask around and find out who took their stuff from their room. And now you've got the best hacker in Concord trying to bust into their security camera logs to see what actually happened.

"But you know these leads take time to resolve," Helmut goes on: "And you know that shouting at people doesn't make things happen faster. Right?"

"Yes," Randolph lies, knowing full well that sometimes shouting at people and shoving a gun up their nose makes things happen very !@#$ing fast, but knowing where his adopted son is trying to go with this.

"So, hard as it is? Be patient," Helmut says, putting a hand on his father's shoulder: "Take the day."

"I can't. And you know why, son. You know why."

"Then go do some work on something else," his son says, holding up his cell phone and showing off one of the top news stories: "You've got an in with the head of the Space Service, right? Director Straffer?"

"Yes," Randolph says, remembering all the time they spent talking at SPYGOD's room, at Mt. Sinai, waiting for him to wake up.

"Well, he's in danger of becoming the ex-Director, all because he approved letting all of Mars come to Earth. Apparently he could make that kind of decision, unilaterally, but the UN isn't happy..."

"And the UN runs the Space Service," Randolph says, taking his son's cell phone and looking at it: "So they're going to fire him for doing his damn job?"

"Apparently. There's going to be a vote later in the week, but it doesn't look good."

"Well, !@#$," Randolph says, nodding and getting out of the chair: "Looks like someone better !@#$ing say something."

"Let me and Helga deal with this," Helmut says, steadying his father as he stumbles towards the door: "You go and raise hell about a good man about to lose his job for doing his job. We'll find out what happened to our brother and sister."

"Thank you," Randoph says, suddenly turning to hug his son with all the power he has. Helmut returns the hug.

No one's sure who starts crying first. In the long run, it doesn't really matter.

In the long run, it just is.

* * *


"This is intolerable," Satanoth grumbles, looking at the red mess that used to be a man, lying on a slab in the White City's one and only morgue.

"Got that damn right," the Red Queen -- or a part of her, at least -- says, looking down at the body.

"And you saw nothing?" the skull-faced God says, looking at her with something approaching menace: "Not with all the eyes I have given you? The many senses you now have? Somehow, a murder has happened in paradise, and you have seen... nothing?"

"That's correct," the Red Queen answers, not liking how her patron bristles at that: "But there's more to it than that."

"Please, enlighten me," Satanoth says, stroking the horrid, sawtooth slices in what used to be the man's skull.

"Well, for starters, you can't talk to his spirit," she says, stating the obvious: "Otherwise, you'd know who did it."

Satanoth says nothing, but his silence is all the confirmation she needs.

"I've talked with others. He followed Rosi, who maintains a contact with all Hir followers. S/he felt nothing when he died, either. It was like he just vanished. That's how she put it."

"Anything else?"

"Senchro rewound time, but saw nothing. Just this guy, walking along like he was with someone He couldn't see. Then he just erupted in wounds like a damn pinata. And then he died."

"And Shift?' Satanoth asked: "Did you speak with our brother? Walker of time and space?"

"He won't talk to me," she admitted: "And trying to ask Kanaan is... well, I'm sure you know."

"I do," the death god says, patting the dead man's destroyed skull: "I have no time for riddles and portents. Death is certain. Death is absolute."

There's silence for a time, and then he looks at his dread servant: "I do not like that this crime has happened in a way that we cannot see. That should not be possible. And that means some dark, powerful magic has been unleashed within this city."

"And I don't know jack and !@#$ about magic," she admits: "But I have been noticing something."

"What?" Satanoth asks, raising an eyebrow.

"It's just a feeling. But it's like I knew something was wrong."

"Please explain," he says, staring down at her.

"It's like when... well, when I'd be out on maneuvers? We were trained to listen to not only what was there, but what wasn't there. When things got too quiet, that's when you knew you were being hunted."

"And you have been feeling that way?" he asks, almost an accusation.

"I have, and for some time now. It's been growing-"

"Then why did you remain silent?" he asks her in a much more accusing tone: "Why have you said nothing?"

"You're busy, lord," the Red Queen says, holding up her armored hands: "And besides, what would I say? I feel something weird's going on? With all respect, that's every day, here-"

"I will not tolerate excuses!" He shrieks, raising his hand as if to smack her: "This city is to be perfect! No crime! No strife! No murder!"

"I'm sorry, but it's how I've always operated!" she almost begs him, just before he can strike her across the face: "I mean, if I'd come to my C.O. with nothing more than a feeling? He'd tell me to go back to my post and bother him when I had something !@#$ing definite.

"So I was looking for something more to show you that my feelings. And I'm sorry, I am. But I didn't think you wanted me for hunches."

He lowers his arm, slowly. He regards her, and perhaps mulls over the wisdom of what she says.

Then he takes her head in his hands -- gently, yet with steel -- and says: "I want you for you, my Red Queen. Your steel. Your fire. Your intuition. Your yen for the kill. All of it. 

"And I will not have you hold anything back from me," he hisses, leaning in so close she can see the eyes in the skulls of his eyes: "Do you understand, my servant?"

"I do, yes," she stammers -- truly afraid.

"Then go back to looking," Satanoth commands, taking his hands from her face and turning his back to her: "And this time? Look for that absence of things. The silence that heralds the attack. And when you feel something, anything, you call for me. And together we will deal with this matter as it should be dealt with. 

"Is this understood?"

"Yes," she replies.

"Then go, my servant," he commands, pointing to the door: "This city is sick. You are its cure. Go and find the germ that has infected it, and together we will make it rue the day it entered."

"Yes, lord," she says, leaving to obey. 

"Impress me, or feel my wrath," Satanoth hisses as she leaves.

The Red Queen shudders as he says that, feeling every molecule in her body slacken its grip on its fellow travelers just for a second. It is, perhaps, her patron's way of letting her know that he controls her life and death.

And she knows that Tombo was right after all -- this was a very, very bad deal. 

Wednesday: 1/20/16

Okay... is this !@#$ing thing on? I sure hope so. I'm going to feel damn stupid sending back a recording of blank noise.

Josie? This is SPYGOD, reporting in live from lovely Anadan. Well, a couple klicks outside of it, anyway. I didn't want to !@#$ing risk anyone hearing, even if this is a goddamn subvocal. 

You can never tell who's got good ears. 

I'm sending this on Wednesday the 20th. I've been here since the 16th. We had an interesting adventure getting here, and by interesting I mean FUBAR. But it gave me time to get a better lay of the land, and see for myself some of the !@#$ that goes on here. It also gave me a chance to gauge how things are at camp. 

And the answer is not !@#$ing good. Not at all.

You were right to be !@#$ing suspicious, Josie. This place is compromised. There's no other way to !@#$ing say it, either. 

The long and short of it is that I'm about 105% convinced that New Man was fragged. I don't know if he or Al Mubaraz were the primary target, yet. But it was one of our missiles that did it, and there's no damn way it veered that far off course and hit camp rather than the target of the day.

But let me back up a bit, 'cause that's just the !@#$ing tip of the !@#$berg we got melting in the desert, here.

So I get here, a couple days late, and the first thing our acting CO, Yanabah, does? She beats the holy !@#$ out of one of the talents I came here with, Zephyr. Now, I'll admit that little mouthy !@#$ deserved a damn good clocking after the mess she got us into, not to mention her inability to shut her !@#$ing mouth. 

But the beating she took was well past the point of legitimate. !@#$, even I wouldn't have gone that far. And that's !@#$ing saying something.

Anyway, that's exhibit number !@#$ing one. Yanabah beats her !@#$less in front of us. Then proceeds to give a roaring General Patton to the troops about how we can't trust anyone, which is true. 

But she's also very keen about the 'we're not !@#$ing here' situation, and tells us it's okay to !@#$ing off witnesses. 

All witnesses, Josie. Not just the enemy. Even our allies in the rebels. 

Even civilians. 

Now, I'm told I used to !@#$ing command this girl. I read that she's a badass. But I never in a million years expected to hear that kind of !@#$ tumbling out of anyone's mouth, even in wartime. 

So, that's exhibit two. Exhibit three is that all the other talents were !@#$ing nodding along like this !@#$ was normal. All the ones who'd been there a while anyway. 

And Chinmoku? Well, I'm told I !@#$ing commanded him, too, mostly as a private contractor. And he was apparently a lot of things, but he was not down with the senseless murder of civilians. 

So call that Exhibit 3.5 or something. She shouldn't have been like this at all. The others shouldn't have been down with that program. And he, most of all, should have been saying no. But instead we got yes ma'ams all the way across the !@#$ing board. 

And that's !@#$ing scary enough. 

Since then, we've been on four sorties and dealt with three ground attacks. I've been handling the goddamn ground attacks along with Chinmoku, Arachnoid, the big Russian guy, and the white part of Les Trois Grands, who's this !@#$er in white armor with a shield that tears people apart when he runs through them. 

Nasty !@#$ing piece of work, right?

Anyway, the good news about ground attacks is that, if you play your cards right, you can get into the medical tent right after the !@#$'s hit the damn fan. And you can do some !@#$ing snooping around while the medics are all busy stitching people back together.  

That's how I got a good look at the poor guy from Qatar. They didn't bother to !@#$ing clean him up at all, but at least they collected all his parts for a proper burial back home. No idea when they'll be !@#$ing releasing him, though. I guess they need to cook up a damn good story as to how he got blown to shreds while on humanitarian duty in the Gulf.

(That's what they say he said, anyway.)

Since they didn't clean him up, I was able to test for explosive residue and shrapnel. It didn't take long to figure out it was from a small, short-range, air-to-ground missile. It's a custom job, and the exact same kind that blue tornado mother!@#$er from France carries along with him when he goes on a sortie, and hurls at the enemy with very scary accuracy. 

So either IS or the loyalists got their damn hands on a shipment, and got one !@#$ of a lucky shot, or someone who knew how to hurl it just right sent it in just the right direction at just the right time. 

And I bet you can guess what I !@#$ing think. 

As for New Man, I got bupkiss. A small little HRP with a couple pieces of what they said were human remains, but might actually be bits of poor Al Mubaraz. I'd need genetic testing strips to tell, of course. And wouldn't you know we ran out a couple !@#$ing weeks ago?

So here's me, hoping the witness accounts were damn right on the money, and he just !@#$ing turned into purple light and vanished. That might mean he can come back. I sure hope so, anyway. I'm damn tired of losing people I know...

...

Anyway, here's the real big thing. I said this place was compromised? Well, I'm not sure how the !@#$ it's happening, but everyone here has had the damn whammy put  on them. 

Case in point? Arachnoid. I got to know him fairly well, both before we got here and after. He's a decent guy under all that steel. No wussy, and that's for !@#$ing sure, but not a sadist, either. Not disloyal and grumbling, but not all !@#$ing jingo stupid, either. 

Just a talent who decided to become Strategic and serve his country with all six of his hands, right?

Well, one night he goes on !@#$ing special patrol with some of the others. And when he comes back? He's an asshole. 

Special patrol is supposed to be a short-range run out into the surrounding desert at night. We do it to see if the enemy's making long-range preparations to storm us from a new direction, or some !@#$. Sometimes we stop a ground attack before it happens, sometimes we just !@#$ our pants over nothing. 

He goes out with Yanabah and Chinmoku. Now, beforehand? He and I are joking about initiations and the like. But when he comes back? Suddenly he's more chummy with the other two. And he doesn't want to make small talk with me, anymore. 

It's like someone flipped a damn switch in his head. 

Two nights later, Zephyr goes out. She leaves, and she's still not happy with Yanabah for the beating she took. But she comes back and it's the same goddamn thing. She's all chummy with them, even though one of them knocked out her !@#$ing teeth over a smartass remark. And she's not wanting anything to do with me.

But now, even after they've had some issues? She's all pally with Arachnoid. 

You see where I'm !@#$ing going with this, right, Josie? Something happens out on special patrol. Something that changes people. Makes them part of some !@#$ing It Crowd. 

Gets them with the damn program. 

Not that it's a fool-proof thing. It looks like the guy from Turkey went out on Night Patrol and didn't come back in one piece, upstairs. He wanders around the camp like a damn ghost and pisses himself like a toddler, so they have him doing demeaning !@#$. 

Free Fire's up next. Then I guess I do it, and then I guess I'll find out what's so special about special patrol. 

That's why I'm risking sending this to you now. You will get it tonight. I will send you another one every day to let you know I'm alright. 

But if you hear anything from me after I go on special patrol that sounds in any way off? Like I'm holding back info, or don't have a good explanation for what happened to the others? You get a team down here and stop this !@#$, Josie, because something is rotten in Anadan. 

Something really damn bad at that.

And yes, I know it sounds like I'm giving orders to my superior officer. Some habits die hard, Josie. And right now my habit is screaming at me to blow the !@#$ out of this travesty and smack heads until I get answers. 

And if I can't ask the questions, anymore? Then they'll know that you know, and that'll be the end of our chance to find out what's really going on here. 

24 hours after I tell you I'm on patrol, Josie. No more. One second past and you drop the damn boom.

SPYGOD out. 

Thursday: 1/21/16

"So," the head of Arrow Security says to the dozen individuals gathered in his virtual boardroom, all of whom are identified by interesting avatars instead of their real faces: "Are we all clear on what has to happen?"

"I think so," Deathdealer says -- IDed as a shady, cartoon pimp with leopard-skin hat and coat: "But why are there so many of us here?"

"I was wondering that, myself," Pell-Mell chuckles, and all the angry, roiling heads that make up his data cloud do the same: "More than ten of us, all to bring down one nuisance? We'll be tripping over each other."

"That's the idea, isn't it?" The General asks, his uniform bursting with colorful medals that mean nothing: "We lure him and fight one another, and once he's done, only the strong with survive for a part in Detroit?"

"Exactly," their hosts says, his avatar grinning from ear to ear like some kind of corporate Cheshire cat: "The rules are simple. Do what you do, but don't interfere with each other. Then bring him down for me. Those who survive that part can squabble among yourselves for primacy afterwards, but not before. Is that clear?"

There's nodding and assenting noises at that.

"Is there a bonus for being the one who takes him down?" Tommi Gun asks, her avatar looking like a 30's gangster with a bullet for a head.

"I wasn't planning on it... but you know what? I appreciate initiative. A hundred grand to the one who brings me his head. How's that for cool?"

There's even more nodding and assenting at that.

"Alright then," he says: "If we're all agreed? Then, in the words of one of my favorite villains, go do that voodoo that you do so well."

With that he disconnects, and removes his VR goggles to take in his office.

"You quoted Blazing Saddles at them, sir?" his secretary, Gary, asks -- somewhat incredulously.

"I doubt most of them will even get the reference," he says, smiling and getting up to fix himself a drink: "What's important is that, since our attempts to manufacture a villain for this Raven to face has failed, I've decided to try capitalism. It usually works."

"And the crime rate, the collateral damage... they're worth getting rid of one man?"

"Gary, you're not getting squeamish on me, are you?" Mr. Stone asks, raising an eyebrow as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

"Not at all, sir. What's a security organization if there's nothing to secure against?"

"Quite right," the CEO of Arrow Security says, sitting back down behind his desk.

"I'm just thinking about the mess. That and the chance it might get back to us. I mean, the other people we dealt with were small time, and most of them weren't very savvy. Some of these people, however..."

"If they get caught, they'll be dealt with," Mr Stone says, smiling confidently: "If they do well, they'll be rewarded. And if they get too greedy after the fact, we'll have them dealt with. It's win-win-win across the board, Gary."

"Sounds good to me, then, sir," his secretary says with a smile.

Not a very convincing one, though.

* * *

"Oh, come the cod," the large, Irish man shouting down Myron's neck in Number Two's massive, spherical office says: "Yeh can't !@#$ing expect us to believe that, now can yeh?"

"It happens to be the truth," the Woman from the Improvement Committee says, addressing the large group of very angry former numbers, all here to discuss their dissatisfaction with the lottery.

"But you can't prove it, can you?" someone from the crowd asks, and receives a mighty cheer for her question.

"Not as such, but if you'd just calm down for a few moments-"

"Shut your ladyfriend's piehole," someone else says, pointing at her: "Or we'll shut her for you."

That's all it takes.

Myron's up in a second, and his fists are moving faster than he is. The man who insulted her is laid out on the ground not long thereafter, holding his nose before it falls off his face.

"You will all be quiet, now," he says, holding his bloodied fist up as though it were a symbol of dominion: "And you will listen."

"Yeh planning on hitting us all, then?" the large man says, but takes a step back, just in case.

"Do I have to?" Myron asks, looking around the room: "Because I will if I have to. Don't think I'm not desperate enough, either, because this !@#$ we're swimming in has me pretty damned desperate."

There's no answer to that, and he hitches a breath: "Alright then, folks. This is how it is.

"Some of you might know the truth about this, but the rest of you probably got lied to, or just not told. You all were part of a system where the truth was not spoken, lies were currency, and everyone just followed orders out of fear.

"Well, the days of lying are !@#$ing over. From now on we share all information. Otherwise, we're dead."

He looks from person to person, and gets both approval and anger. He doesn't give a !@#$, anymore.

"We're not on Earth, anymore," he says, and there's a gasp or two at that: "Not exactly, anyway. We're on Earth as it might have been if there hadn't been a number of mass extinctions, and homo sapiens had never developed. And this alternate reality has been artificially created and maintained through a really dangerous process..."

Someone makes a rude noise as he falters, but someone else slaps that someone upside the head: "Please go on, sir. This is intensely interesting."

"Thank you. As I was about to say, I've seen two of these constructs before. We called them B.A.S.E.C.A.M.P. 3 and 4. Both of them were compromised under very different circumstances, and we never got around to reclaiming either.

"So, this must be... hell, I don't know. We got the blueprint for the first one from some crazy-ass evil genius. Maybe BOWLER got the same plans. I don't know which number B.A.S.E.C.A.M.P. this is. I don't !@#$ing care.

"Bottom line, they developed the technology. And they sent the man you know as Number 42 over here to build this place.

"Yes, that's right, folks. He wasn't the anti-hero everyone made him out to be. He was the first Number Two. And when he couldn't hack it, anymore? He handed it all over to the guy you've been calling Number Two since. And you saw what kind of a job he did.

"But there's one problem," Myron goes on: "People come here but they don't leave. And that's not just because there's the hospital, the graveyard, and rover. It's because while BOWLER figured out how to get inside this thing they made, they didn't know how to get people back."

There's some more gasps at that. Myron nods.

"So that's what the real problem is here, folks. We can't go home. Not until we find the means by which we were all brought here, which is somewhere down there. And then we have to fix it.

"Now, I can fix it. I've done it once before, and while some crazy !@#$ was going on, too. So as long as I'm not being attacked by a bunch of hungry weather balloons we should be fine.

"But I can't fix it if it's not in front of me. I can't be in front of it if we haven't found it.

"And unless we're all willing to take turns going down there, we're not going to find it."

"So when's your !@#$ing turn?" the large Irishman asks.

"Didn't you hear him?" the woman says, shaking her head: "He's our ticket home. If we lose him, we've lost everything."

"It's a crazy story," someone says: "How come this is the first we're hearing of it?"

"Did any of you make the trip here willingly?" Myron asks, looking around: "Do any of you actually remember coming here?"

No one does, clearly.

"You all just woke up in your bungalow, didn't you?" Myron said: "Some nice little place that looked just like your bedroom. Or maybe you went straight to the new arrival's hostel so you could fight for your lives with a couple complete strangers?"

No answers, but the shocked look in their eyes is enough for him.

"The process could have been entirely automated," he goes on: "Things appear and vanish all the damn time. Some of it was shills. Some of it was some of you. But no one remembers coming here. You just woke up-"

"I remember coming here," someone says from the back of the room. It's the horse-faced, grey-haired doctor. And everyone steps aside for her so she can come in.

"You do," Myron says, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," she admits, her hands in her pockets of her white lab coat: "I was blindfolded, of course. They took me down an elevator in BOWLER's main building. Put me in a car. Drove me around and around London until I was dizzy. Or maybe we never went anywhere at all.

"And then they took me out, marched me through a doorway, down a hall, into another, different elevator... at least it sounded and smelled quite different. Then I was told to take a deep breath and hold it, and walk forward until I felt my ears pop. Then I should start breathing again, but not take off my blindfold until I was told to."

"And then what happened?"

"I did as I was told, every step of the way. There was a strange sensation, a smell of burning. And then my feet were moved beneath me, as though I were on a people mover. I was in darkness, and then I was in the light.

"And then Number Two was taking my blindfold off, and welcoming me to the Village."

"Alright then," the Woman from the Improvement Committee says, gesturing to the Doctor: "You see? A totally automated process. We were all knocked out on the other side, fed through a door, or whatever. And then moved from the basement to the top floor. Some of us were just awake for the ride is all."

That deflates the arguing, and the grumbling. Little by little people funnel out of the room, into the rest of the Green Dome.

"Well thank you," Myron says: "I wasn't expecting you to help."

"Well, it's like you said," the woman says, frowning: "If you go, they go after me, next. But don't think this makes us friends. Not by a long damned mile."

"I'd settle for allies, right now," Myron says, extending a hand for her to shake.

She regards it for a moment, rather coolly. And then she spits in his face, turns, and walks away.

"Well, that went rather well," the woman sighs, crossing her arms. All Myron can do is wipe her vote of no confidence off his cheek and nose, and hope he doesn't have to rely on her support for much longer. 

Friday: 1/22/16

"Well, I'm disappointed," Director Straffer says, looking at the Colonel's holographic image as it stands at attention in his office -- beamed down direct from the Sudarshana Chakram, high in orbit above the space elevator.

"Frankly, sir, I'm disappointed you'd even ask," the older man says, his eyes as flinty as they ever were: "I take my duty seriously. But while you are my commanding officer, the United Nations is our commanding body. If they decide to remove you from your position, I'm not going to go to war with them to keep you behind that desk."

"But what if they're wrong?" the blonde man asks, coming out from around his desk to stand in front of the man: "You know what's happening to Mars, right now! Those people are facing a global catastrophe! I had to act-"

"I'm not disagreeing, sir," the man says, shaking his head: "I'm in full agreement. Those people are our allies. It's our job to help anyone in need, but when our allies ask for help, we need to be there."

"Then why...?"

"Because there is a chain of command, and I have to follow it."

"But if you do, those people who are coming will be forced to turn around. Or they'll languish in orbit while the pencil-pushers in NYC figure out what to do with them!

"We've got a destination for them. We just have to get them from here to the White City. After that, it's taken care of-"

"I appreciate that, sir. But it doesn't change the fact that you bucked the system-"

"I followed the remit of my position-"

"I'm not in the habit of fighting my own superiors!" the Colonel shouts, and something about how his voice filters through the hologram almost kills any chance of backtalk. Almost.

"You used to do it all the time, as I recall," Straffer says, frowning.

"That's right, sir. I did. When the cause was just and my orders were wrong I broke the rules all the damn time. And when I did they sent our own boys out to get me and bring me back.

"And when I hurt them... it broke my heart."

"I'm sorry," Straffer says, sitting down on the edge of his desk: "I never knew it came to that."

"No one really does, sir," the Colonel continues: "But it did. And it got ugly. I used to see their faces in my head, every night. That's why I drank myself blind, sir. Not from weakness, but to keep myself strong. Able to do what needed to be done with no regrets, no second-guessing."

"Which is what I'm asking you to do here," the Director says, almost pleading with him.

"I know, sir. And I do appreciate that. But ask yourself this -- if you stand against them, how many of your own people do you really think will follow you? And even if it's everyone in the Space Service, how many people do you think the UN will send?

"Do you really want to be responsible for all that blood?"

"No," Straffer says: "I don't. But I can't turn my back on my duty, or those people. I have to try. I have to take a stand.

"Because if I don't? If I just say 'oh well, better luck next global catastrophe?' There will be blood on my hands, then, too.

"And I'd rather they get bloody from doing the right thing than doing nothing at all, Colonel. How about you?"

"Permission to terminate transmission, sir," the old man says after a moment's silence: "I think we're done, here."

"I think we are, yes," Straffer says, saluting the man, who salutes back. Then he's gone.

"Sir?" Captain Charleston says, coming around the corner: "Um, sorry to interrupt-"

"Go ahead," his CO says, sighing as he heads behind his desk: "Can't be worse than that."

"I took the liberty of conducting a straw poll with all the officers here, in the elevator," he says: "They're all with you, and we're all with you."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"The pilots on the other hand... they seem to be a mixed bag," he admits: "Most are with us, some are against us. And some are saying if they get contradictory orders they'll just disembark and sit it out."

"Well, I can't blame them," Straffer sighs, wondering if he should drink something caffeinated, alcoholic, or both.

"I'm with you all the way, sir," Charleston says, stepping up to the desk: "Even if you weren't right, which you are? You saved my ass. I'm not forgetting that."

"Well, this may wind up with both of us losing ours," Straffer says, deciding to split the difference and have a Lemmy, and make another for his subordinate: "If you wanted to get out, I would understand."

"If you wanted to say it was all my idea, I'd totally take the fall, sir," the Captain says, clinking his glass to Straffer's and having a sip, and then a gulp: "I'd rather go to the stockade for doing the right thing than get promoted for the wrong one."

"Amen to that," Straffer says, wondering if his fiance would break him out of jail.

* * *

"So, I went for a real Hail Mary, here," the hacker (who looks like the Jollibee mascot)  is telling Randolph Scott via telepresence, showing him a number of screens: "Lucky for us, when they say they wipe the tapes every 24 hours? They really don't. One of the people who works there sometimes sells the footage to one of those sites where they post embarrassing tae that people do when they're drunk in hotel rooms."

"Is that how you got these?" Randoph asks, his voice echoey through his inbuilt VR rig.

"Well, let's not get into that. Let's just say I earned my fee this time."

"Alright," the outlaw reporter says, nodding: "So what do you have."

"Okay, we have the two persons of interest going into their hotel room on the second floor. A while later... maybe fifteen minutes, she leaves, and goes to the concierge suite to grab some food that's been laid out for the staffers."

"Looks about right," he says, smirking at their choice of foodstuffs: "I used to get bags of that in my lunch box."

"Didn't we all, brother? Well, here's where it gets interesting. She goes back to the room. And... let's see, maybe five minutes later... they come out."

Randolph gasps, looking at the two of them. They've clearly been in a fight, but they're walking side by side as if this was completely normal for them.

"So they go up the elevator, and here they are. Looks like she pasted him a good one in the nose. And those seem to be choke marks around her neck."

"Oh my god," Randolph says, amazed: "What did they do? Why would they do it?"

"Not my department. I'm just sorry none of these rooms have cameras. Man, the blackmail material..."

Randolph doesn't say anything to that, and lets the man go on.

"So they get out on the third floor, and here they are leaving. And they walk down to this lady's door. She seems to be one of their mahalagas, you ask me."

"Yes," Randolph says, remembering his Tagalog: "That's the Campaign Manager. I wonder why she's staying in the Holiday Inn instead of the hotel her client was at?"

"Dunno. Maybe you can ask her," the hacker goes on: "Okay, she opens the door. There's a conversation, and she seems pretty surprised. They go into the room, and then... zip ahead maybe fifteen minutes..."

The screens change focus to the front, where a long, black limousine pulls up. Two of the Candidate's security people get out and walk into the building, and then the screens flip between angles as they march through the lobby, up to the elevator, ride it up to the third floor. They appear to be talking into headsets the whole time.

Then they get out, and march down to the Campaign manager's room. One knocks as the other guards. The door opens, the manager comes out for a second, and then hands over Jana and Karl, who gladly let themselves be taken away by the security.

Then it's back down the hall, into the elevator, out the lobby, and into the back of he car. The two kids are smiling all the while -- almost beatifically.

And then the car goes away, and the screens go blank.

"Now, the bad news? I wasn't able to get anything from the guy's hotel. It is actually complying with the tape wiping. But the next day, early morning? I get this."

More shots from the second floor, as a couple security guards come down the hallway with folded boxes under their arms. They enter Karl and Jana's room, and -- about an hour later -- come out with their things, both in boxes and loosely.

"They put them into a limo, just not the same one. And then they drive off."

"That goes along with what the night clerk told me," Randolph said: "Apparently he didn't see them come and take them. But he did hear that, the next day, the people in that room didn't check out, but all their stuff was gone."

"Well, there you go," the hacker says, and his avatar smiles: "So, did I earn my fee? I know that's not a lot to go on-"

"It's enough," he says: "And I'll double your fee if you can find out where they went next. Because I doubt they're still in Portsmouth."

"Consider it done," the hacker says: "Be seeing you."

And then they're out, and Randolph's eyes go back to normal.

"Well?" Velma asks, with Helga and Helmut standing nearby.

"They're still alive," he says, intensely relieved: "Apparently, when you thought they were dead? Something happened to them. They fought each other, and then... well, when they came out? There was something wrong with them. It was like they weren't themselves anymore."

"So what we thought was them dying was... what?" Helga thinks: "Them shutting themselves off from us?"

"Now that I think about it, I felt like he died and then she did," Helmut says, confused.

"That makes sense," Randolph says: "It looks like he attacked her. Maybe he was trying to get her to..."

He thinks for a moment: "We were bugging his phone. They heard the phone call. They heard the voice on the other end."

"So... the voice on the other end is... what?" Velma asks: "Someone who can have an evil effect on people over the damn phone?"

"A controlling one, to be sure," Randolph says: "And if that's the case, then suddenly this makes a lot more sense."

"What does?" Helga says.

"Why a smart man who hangs out with Democrats suddenly becomes a raging, hateful, ultra-conservative asshole the moment he runs for President," the outlaw reporter says, getting to his feet: "He's always been an egomaniac, and yeah, he's a bully. But this kind of !@#$? Throwing Muslims, Mexicans, and Martians under the bus to make Joe Bob Pig!@#$er happy?"

"Well, it's working," Helga shudders: "You have seen the polling data."

"Yeah, but that's not him. Not really."

"You could have fooled me," Velma says.

"I think we've all been fooled," Randolph says, grabbing a fresh bottle of whiskey and opening it up: "Someone is pulling his strings, and it isn't just a backer. It's a puppetmaster. Someone's !@#$ing mind controlling the man.

"And if he wins the election..."

There's nothing more to be said, but they all take a good, long pull off the bottle when he starts handing it around.

Saturday: 1/23/16

"So what do we think of the other two?" Yanabah says, passing a cold bottle of local beer around to her war council as they sit in a trashed building some distance from the center of camp.

(Demir is holding a cooler full of them, drooling by her side.)

"Free Fire is, how you say? Douchebag?" Russian Steel snorts: "Not friendly."

"Yeah, he's an asshole," Zephyr says, taking the beer and handing it over to the big Russian -- who she's clearly enamored with: "Wouldn't laugh at any of my jokes."

"No one is laughing at your jokes," Epee Rouge sniffs, and everyone laughs at that.

"But should we bring him in?" Yanabah asks.

"Not certain yet," Arachnoid says: "There's just something about him that sets me off. I don't know what."

"Alright, maybe we take him out on night patrol tonight, then?" Yanabah says, taking the beer back and finishing it off: "Watch how he acts before? Then see how he is when it happens? Waste him if we don't like it?"

People more or less nod at that.

"Alright," she goes on, opening a new bottle and taking a swig: "How about Shatter? I like him."

"I mostly like him," Bouclier Blanc says: "He is a good fighter. Very agile. Not afraid to get his hands dirty."

"Yeah!" Zephyr says, taking the bottle: "Bad ass mother!@#$er. I love what he does with those swords."

"Da!" Russian Steel thumps his chest: "An excellent addition to our team."

"One swordsmith to another, I find him... adequate," Epee Rouge says, smirking a little and passing the bottle to the Russian.

"You say that about everyone," Arachnoid scoffs, and there's some laughter at that: "And he is good, but there's something off about him."

"That is true," Bouclier Blanc agrees: "I am not certain why. Perhaps he asks too many questions-"

"He is SPYGOD," Chinmoku says, out of nowhere.

All heads turn to look at him, and he smiles and looks down over his sunglasses: "Please tell me I am not the only one who realized this?"

"How do you know?" Yanabah demands: "And none of your zen cookie horse!@#$, here, pal. Straight answers for a change."

"To know someone, you must fight them," he answers: "Or at least watch them fight. It is a window into the soul, more accurate than any words. The poetry of motion."

"Zen cookies," Russian Steel says: "Again with these zen cookies."

"I have fought with him, and alongside him," the martial artist insists: "In close quarters, with bladed weapons. It is his style of fighting. It is him."

"That cannot be true,"  Tonnerre Bleu shrugs: "He is a blind man, undergoing treatment. Everyone knows this."

"That is what we have been told, my friend," the metal Russian says: "And by the government. In Russia, this always means there is a lie."

"And that would explain that Frankie Goes to Hollywood t-shirt he's been wearing," Zephyr offers.

"Who?" Arachnoid asks. 

"Well then," Yanabah says, looking at everyone: "If this is true, and our friend here isn't smoking the ramen again, then we've got a serious !@#$ing problem, don't we?"

"If he's here, and in disguise, they must know something," Epee Rouge says.

"Then they must suspect what happened," Bouclier Blanc adds: "What we had to do."

"So if we kill him, how long have we got?" Arachnoid says.

"About a day, I bet," Yanabah says: "We have to assume he can make contact with them."

"Can we wrap things up in a day, here?" Arachnoid asks: "I don't know the full extent of operations. You haven't told me everything, yet."

And Yanabah smiles, wolflike, and proceeds to tell him everything. 

At the end of which, he's down with the program.

* * *

"Oh come on," the large man -- dressed like a Revolutionary War soldier, complete with a tri-corner hat -- shouts at the television in the corner of the old, small, but well-maintained jewelry store they're robbing: "I don't need to hear any more about the one world government! Didn't we fight against this kind of tyranny?"

"Dude, I love Tyanids," one of his domino-masked henchmen says as he smashes another gorgeous, wood and glass case of diamond rings: "As soon as I get my cut I'm buying a 5000 point army."

"If your sights are set so low, George, then by all means, waste your money," the man says, turning around just as the FOX announcer talks about the upcoming vote on the Space Service Director: "But you'd do better to buy gold, or at least bullets."

"I'm down with that," the skinny, black man by the door says, holding a gun to the owner and the one customer who'd been unlucky enough to be there when they came.

"This country is sick," he goes on, smoothing the lapels of his blue coat as he addresses all six of his fellows, all of whom are busy smashing and shoving: "Diseased. We've gotten too far from our original values-"

"I don't think they wrote the Constitution so you could rob honest businessmen," the owner hisses, glaring at the man who's trashing his life's work.

"Honest?" the robber looks at the man and sneers: "That hook nose betrays you for a Jew, my friend. I've never met an honest Jew-"

"I'm Pakistani you racist !@#$," the owner shouts back: "Just like my father, who built this shop! He came here to build a better life. And people like you think we're some kind of sickness?"

"America is for white, christian men," the leader glowers -- quickly adding "No offense, Jay," to the skinny man with the gun.

"All the same to me, man," his lackey grins, putting the gun closer to the owner's head: "You want I should cure your disease?"

"Maybe later," the capped villain says, with just a hint of menace: "Maybe not. Maybe if do enough damage to ruin his life's work, he'll go back where his father came from and start over there?"

He laughs at that, but then he turns around and stops laughing.

His men are all unconscious -- knocked about the floor like tenpins.

Standing in the center of it all is a man in black, with short, black feathers tumbling in the air around him. His face is painted black with white lines across his eyes and mouth.

And he's looking right at the robber and the man with the gun with a very unhappy look.

("This just in," the announcer says: "The UN has voted to remove the Director of the Space Service immediately. They are giving him 24 hours to leave the Space Elevator in Pontianak...")

"I have a better idea," The Raven says, hands ready to do his work once more: "Why don't you put the gun down and give yourself up? It will be less painful for you, now and later."

"Oh man," the kid with the gun says -- dropping his weapon, kneeling, and putting his hands behind his head in one quick, panicked motion: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I wasn't going to hurt this guy, really. I was just talking tough-"

"Well, that's what comes with giving a !@#$ a gun," the robber sighs: "I guess you can't get good help these days. Not in Detroit, anyway..."

"Who are you?" The Raven asks, stepping forward and indicating that the owner and customer should get out while they can.

"I might ask you the same question," the robber says, putting his hands on his hips, clearly disgusted: "Isn't it a little early for Halloween?"

"I might ask you the same question," the hero says, taking another, careful step closer once the two civilians are well clear: "I've never heard of you before."

"I am the Patriotist," the villain says: "I steal from parasites like this to give back to the cause of the Third American Revolution."

Thomas rolls his eyes at that, and then glowers: "I'd be the last person to think our Founding Fathers were perfect, but I have a hard time believing they'd approve."

"That's only because you never read the Constitution," the Patriotist grins: "Or the Bible, I'd bet."

The Raven sighs -- somehow he knew this was going to be somewhere south of ridiculous when he heard the crashing and came to investigate.

(And why aren't the cops here by now...?)

"I am getting tired of costumed crooks turning my city into their playground," the hero sighs: "And even more tired of hearing these distorted and sick justifications for crime. And now you've actually offended me, too-"

"Free speech, sir!"

"Yes, you have a lot of freedoms. But If I were you, I would stop talking and do what your partner in crime is doing. Otherwise, I might not be as understanding as I normally am with people like you."

"That's what you think, fool!" the man says, taking a step back: "My partner's going to deal with you, now."

"What partner?" The Raven asks.

And then he notices the car, parked out across the street. It's an old, black model -- maybe something from the 1930's.

And its driver is dressed like an old-time gangster, complete with a hat and cigar.

(How did he not see it before now?)

"Tommi, come on in," the Patriotist grins into a communicator on his coat: "I've got him all warmed up for you."

"Sorry, sugar," a mocking, woman's voice says: "Change of plans."

"What?" he asks, turning around.

And then the car unfolds -- its sides popping up and out to reveal a bank of very scary-looking gatling guns.

"Thanks for helping out, Bert," Tommi Gun says, grinning as her window rolls up with armor plate.

"What?" he asks again.

"No!" The Raven shouts, trying to push the villain and his accomplice out of the way.

And then...

Sunday: 1/24/16

... on an American aircraft carrier, not far from Pontianak, a large number of warplanes are prepared for battle.

Freshly-briefed pilots hustle across the steel beach, climbing up into their cockpits and getting ready for the order to go, go, go.

They've got their remit. They hope they won't be needed.

They hope that everyone will just do as they're !@#$ing told, over at the massively-tall thing they can see, just past the horizon.

They somehow know it won't be that damn easy...

* * *

... to kill me," SPYGOD mutters as he sees the lone figure stomping towards his tent, off on the far side of the strangely-deserted camp.

It's Free Fire. He's alone. He's got his fire wheel booted up -- smoking and sparking with every step -- and seems ready to commit.

It looks like he went on Night Patrol, alright. His eyes seem a little more dead than usual.

And there's no one around that he can see to witness what comes next.

So SPYGOD sighs, deep inside -- he kind of liked that guy, even if he was a little weird -- and gets ready to...

* * * 

... exit the black car that took them from the Frankfurt Airport to this abandoned building, south of town. 

"It's not very impressive," Karl says in German, looking around as the skull-shaven, leather boys who picked he and his sister up get out behind them.

"Appearances are deceiving, my young friend," their leader says: "I think you will have to become used to many such surprises within Odal."

"I am ready for them," Jana says, smiling as they all go forward.

"I wonder if they're ready for us?" Karl chuckles as...

* * *

... every aerospace fighter the Space Service has rains down from near orbit to take up a protective cordon around the space elevator. 

Somehow, he did it. Their Director managed to talk every last pilot into holding the course. 

(Maybe one or two aren't entirely convinced, but he's got them for now, at least.)

He's worried about a ground assault. He's worried about a sustained campaign. And he's really worried about what the Colonel will do. 

But for now, he's got this, provided all his plans actually work out...

* * *

... except that the tent is empty, and there's no sign of SPYGOD anywhere.

Wait -- right behind him. A swordpoint, right where his skull meets his neck.

"Alright, !@#$er," SPYGOD says, astonished at how easy it was to sneak up on the guy: "We can dance and you can lose body parts, or you can just !@#$ing tell me what I want to know."

"I would be very happy to," the orange-armored man says, not moving around: "But do us both a favor and act like you're a second away from killing me. Otherwise they will attack us both."

"What the hell are you talking about...?" SPYGOD asks, but then realizes...

* * * 

... who the pale man before them is.

"Helvete," Karl says astounded: "I know of you. You're with le Compagnie..."

"... or at least you were," Jana says: "Up until everything went wrong, that is."

"Leave us," the leader of Odal says, waving his hand to the leather boys, who smile, nod, and do as commanded without a word of complaint. 

And then, when they're alone, the red-eyed man smiles, takes Jana and Karl by the hands, and leads them...

* * *

... straight into a box trap, surrounded by the Space Service's fighters and the automatic defenses they apparently didn't know the Space Elevator had. 

The Service's pilots do their best to be nice about it -- really. They aim for the warplanes' guidance systems, doing their best to avoid hitting the cockpit.

But mistakes happen, and some things just can't be helped. 

People start dying on either side, and Straffer watches from his office, almost seeing the blood form on his hands.

"Please let this end quickly," he prays to no one in particular, and hoping...

* * *

... they haven't heard us," Free Fire says as they trade blows -- twinned blades to fire wheel, back and forth, as close as they can: "If they have, the deception is over."

"Well, that's a !@#$ing disturbing story," SPYGOD says, parrying a very swift strike and replying with a solid kick to the midsection: "You'll have to tell me how is isn't you're not !@#$ed in the head too."

"Isn't it obvious?" the orange-armored man says, not really phased by the kick: "I'm a-"

But then an explosion rips the tent apart, behind them. They scatter before the blast.

And they realize that...

* * *

"... you two are Magda's children," Helvete says, showing them the insides of his secret cabinet: "Heirs to a wondrous heritage."

"We've seen how those who went before us were treated," Karl says, raising an eyebrow: "I don't know how wondrous it was."

"Interesting," the pale man says, putting a hand on both their waists, which neither seem eager to want to remove: "You obey, and you desire to do my will. And yet you retain your flippancy?"

"It may because of our powers," Jana offers: "We may be blocking you on some level."

"Or maybe we're waiting to be impressed," Karl says, smiling: "So, let's get started..."

* * *

"... wrapping this up," Straffer orders Charleston, who's moving around in his office, outside: "Call the UN. Tell them this ends now. Tell them to back off."

"I'll do that," the Captain says, taking note of how many splashed planes are sitting in the bay.

"Tell them don't make me embarrass them in front of the world by getting the media involved."

"I'll do that. Which network should I call first?"

"Well..." Straffer says, but then sees something reflected in the window, and realizes...

* * *

 ... how utterly !@#$ed the two of them are.

"So," Yanabah's voice comes -- mocking them from speakers in Epee Rouge's armor: "I guess this is where you both !@#$ing die, huh?"

"Get smart, Flower," SPYGOD says, looking at all the friends and allies arrayed before them: "You wouldn't be the only hero said they were going to kill me. Especially when I came to kill them."

"And he has me on his side," Free Fire says, holding his fire wheel up: "You don't know what you've done, threatening us. Please stand down."

Bouclier Blanc laughs -- long, dark, and ugly -- and then...

* * *

"... I didn't know that was possible," Jana says, astounded as Helvete shows the jar of pills.

"No one does," the pale man agrees, putting them away: "But it is the truth, my little children. I am now Wilhelm Keitel, and will continue to be so long as I take them. And in this body, I not only retain my old powers, but also its own as well."

He makes fire come from both of his hands, as if to prove it. And, at long last, they kneel before him.

"Now, you must tell me how much this Randolph Scott knows," he tells them: "Or at least what he suspects. I think I shall have to deal with him.

"And you two will be my best weapons against the truth..."

* * *

"... is, the longer you've been away from your desk, and I've been standing in?" Captain Charleston says, aiming the very large, anti-cyborg gun at his boss' head: "The more I've come to realize how much I like it. And the more I've come to realize what a bad job you've been doing."

"Don't be stupid," Straffer says, holding his hands out instead of up: "They'll throw you under the bus, too. All the things you've done on my behalf-"

"Will be erased," his subordinate says, looking as the Chakram comes down from the sky behind them, and begins to hold their aerofighters in place with its mysterious Z-beams: "They're going to fix it. They're going to fix everything."

"You think so?" Straffer asks, raising an eyebrow: "I think you're wrong. There's some things you just can't fix.

And this is one of them."

And then...

* * *

...in Detroit, The Raven's body lies in a police morgue -- riddled with so many bullets that it isn't even recognizable...

... in the White City, Loreli looks over the latest, blood-red work of art she has made and calls it good...

... in the Green Dome, the Woman from the Improvement Committee looks at the number in her hand, and realizes she has been chosen to go below...

* * *

... and in the skies above Pontianak, as the Sudarshana Chakram spins and glows like a second sun, a strange, strong light shines down that not even it can eclipse. 

And, at long last, the new age of the Olympians unquestionably begins.

(SPYGOD is listening to Jagwar Ma (Uncertainty) and having a Night Patrol)

Monday, January 11, 2016

TechnOlympos: 1/4/16 - 1/10/16

"I've got drama, can't be stolen / everybody knows me now"
SPYGOD, returned

(Art by Dean Stahl)


* * *
34
* * *

Monday: 1/4/32

"So, yes, my dear Wilhelm," the General der Infanterie tells the man he's brought along to the theoretical demonstrations: "I think you should consider these times we live within. The Fatherland will need a strong hand if we are to overcome our past, and secure our future."

"Of course," Keitel replies, making sure to be very careful what he says, and how. Even though he's been Head of the Ministry of Defense's Organizational Department for now, he knows that he's only one wrong step away from being cast down, or out. As he's learned, the General is not one to tolerate dissension from his plans -- real or imagined.

And Kurt von Schleicher has quite the imagination, as his interest in the stranger horizons of war science can attest to.

The demonstrations are being held in a snow-caked warehouse, some distance from the headquarters at the Bendlerblock. Many important people are here, most of them incognito due to the hush-hush nature of things. Some even wear masks, as though this was some decadent party from the more luxurious -- and lascivious -- corners of Berlin.

Only the wares on display here are not luscious young bodies, but things meant to rend them limb from limb.

Wilhelm Keitel sees many great and strange things proposed there, walking in the steps of von Schliecher: bombs that could destroy the world and cannons that could reach across the Atlantic; gas that could melt flesh from bones and grenades that could kill with sound; planes that can dive into the ocean and tanks the size of city blocks.

And so many other, even more outrageous suggestions -- all made by men who seem just south of sane.

"Ah, my dear General," a man in a black domino mask says, coming up to shake von Schliecher's hand: "I am so glad you could make it."

"And it is good to see you, my dear Wilhelm," the General says, returning the shake: "No doubt you have met your namesake? Oberstleutnant Wilhelm Keitel, leader of our Organizational Department?"

"Wilhelm Ganz," the man says, shaking Keitel's hand: "A pleasure, sir."

"Likewise," Keitel lies, his mind reeling from the insanity on display: "And what is it you do, good sir?"

"You stand within it, my friend," Ganz smiles, his eyes lacking any mirth: "I have assembled this demonstration."

"Oh, do not be so modest," von Schleicher playfully chides the man: "That is like saying I simply give orders."

"Well, to be more precise, I am what you might call a... procurer?" Ganz says, waving a proud hand around the room: "Only I arrange for war science to take place. I vet the scientists, and make certain their ideas have merit, or at least a sound basis to work upon. I invite the right people, who have the understanding to appreciate it, or at least the power to make it happen.

"And then I need only step back and let nature take its course, perhaps with the occasional push."

He laughs at that, and so does von Schliecher. But Keitel does not join them, choosing instead to look at a wild-haired man nearby. He almost froths at the mouth as he speaks of rewriting the basic codes of life, in order to make the men and women of tomorrow.

And at that moment, all sense of caution finally vanishes from his mind. 

"You say you vetted these people?" Keitel asks, indicating the drooling madman: "Then I respectfully shudder to think who was told to stay at home."

"You would think so?" Ganz asks, the pride he showed a moment ago turning to scorn at the detection of a lesser intellect: "Well, my dear Oberstleutnant, science is not always advanced by small and tidy minds. It takes a special mentality to see beyond the frontiers, into the world beyond current imaginings."

"But how does one separate such visions from madness?" Keitel pushes, no longer afraid of von Schliecher's censure: "And where?"

Ganz's brow furrows: "As a man I have been well-acquainted with for some time once told me, one is always considered to be mad if one discovers something that others cannot grasp."

"And is that man here, today?" Keitel asks, looking around the room.

"No," their host says, rather sadly: "I fear that his researches were too advanced for even the most... imaginative persons to truly appreciate."

"Well then," Keitel says: "I suppose that-"

"I think we would like to see more," von Schliecher quickly interjects, in a tone of voice that leaves no question that his guest should be silent, now: "Perhaps one of your visionaries that has created something truly intriguing?"

"Yes," Wilhelm Ganz says, after a moment's reflection: "Please, come through to the biological sciences area. And try not to judge before we arrive, Oberstleutnant?"

He tries to not let it show. He walks past the Head of Anthropology of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute, who speaks of "racial hygiene," using his displays on twins as proof of his theories. A series of grisly photos of his expert separation of a pair of conjoined girls gathers more interest than his ideas.

That and many other so-called experts, each seeming more demented than the last, and each with more disgusting "proofs" on display. With each step Keitel feels like he has walked into a strange antechamber of Hell -- perhaps its abattoir...

"Ah, Johann," Ganz says suddenly, shaking the hand of a well-heeled man, wearing a very strange, almost mystical mask: "I am very glad to see you could make it. If you'll just excuse me-"

"1975," croaks the man's companion -- a woman cloaked head-to-toe in a black shroud.

(Something in her voice makes something in Keitel's soul die, just a little.)

"Now, Lilitu, please be polite to our host," the man says, seemingly unmoved by her speech: "My apologies, Herr Ganz. I just wanted to thank you for allowing our people a booth, here. When my Lumenclub is more well-established, I would be pleased to show you more of what we have accomplished."

"That would be wonderful," Ganz says: "But in the meantime-"

"Perhaps you could introduce me to your friends?" the man asks, taking a step forward to shake von Schleicher's hand.

"1934," the shrouded woman says before the General can respond.

"Another time, perhaps," Keitel quickly interjects, politely taking the man's hand to shake and moving the man on. As they do, he can't help but notice the woman does not speak, but rather turns to regard him as they go.

He thinks she must be puzzled from how she stands, but somehow knows he does not want to see beneath that shroud.

"Who was that man?" von Schleicher says -- clearly unnerved: "And what did she mean by that number? That's just a couple years away..."

"No one you need know, dear Kurt," Ganz says, quickly taking them to a small booth, staffed by a lone, also-small man, and filled with pharmaceutical paraphernalia: "But here, this is who I wanted you to meet. Doctor Giacomini, an acolyte of the late, well-regarded Doctor Camillo Golgi."

"You are far too kind, signore Ganz," the bespectacled man says, nervously combing the harsh part in his long, sallow hair: "In truth, I was only ever an assistant to his assistant. But I did-"

"Tell these men of your discovery, herr Giacomini," Ganz says, indicating the General -- but not Keitel: "I think they will find it of interest."

"Simply put, gentlemen, I am working on a way to chemically introduce desirable mental traits," the man says, pointing to a series of pills, and illustrations of how they might be made -- his German betraying more of his Italian heritage as he goes on: "If the research continues along this line in a positive fashion, we could make people more hardworking, more kind, more studious, less promiscuous... any trait you would care to introduce, really."

"A loyalty pill," von Schleicher muses, suddenly no longer so concerned about the baleful-sounding woman's utterance.

"If you wish," the man says, smiling: "A pill could have one trait, or many. They could be prescribed by chemists for special needs, or handed out like rations by the authorities if certain things occur, such as war or disaster."

"Could they be taken every day?" the General goes on, becoming more excited: "Without bad effect?"

"At this stage, I would say yes," Giacomini answers, smiling to be asked favorable questions for a change: "More research is needed, of course. Human trials are needed-"

"What experiments have you done so far?" Keitel asks, hoping his saving von Schleicher from the strange man has bought him the right to some skepticism.

"So far?" the short man says, indicating his illustrations, which indicate long, thick needles inserted into a living man's skull: "I have affected a total personality transfer via pharmaceuticals. That is an astonishing achievement, in and of itself, if I do say so myself. But I am working on fine-tuning the process so as to-"

"Wait," von Schleicher says, clearly astounded: "You mean to say you can make a pill that contains another person's personality, and give it to another person and... they become that person?"

"Yes," the man says, as matter-of-factly as if he were saying the Sun set in the west.

"That's... amazing," the General says: "My dear Doctor, I think you have buried the true wonder below the theories."

"True, sir," the diminutive doctor admits, somewhat sheepishly: "But, to be honest? I cannot see the achievement having much practical value. Harvesting the personality requires the death of the donor, at this stage. And while the personality is transferred, I am not certain the soul goes with it. Certainly not the memories, from what I have determined.

"So as a way to cheat death, well... it leaves something to be desired."

"But still," von Schleicher says, looking to Keitel: "Imagine. A leader could endure the death of a body. A new, stronger man could play host to a dying one, and retain the drives of the other. And build upon it. With the right body of advisers and sufficient records, well."

"Perhaps," Giamomini says: "But I think the true value of this procedure will be when I can isolate specific personality traits from the harvest, and they can be given to people. Surely can see the possibilities?"

"I can," the man says, nodding enthusiastically: "I have often thought we must make our people stronger to escape this national crisis, indeed all such problems. This may be the key to that..."

The doctor and the General go around and around on that point, and as they go on Wilhelm Keitel slowly finds himself no less skeptical, but at least glad to not have to behave himself on his companion's behalf.

"1975," he muses to Wilhelm Ganz, raising an eyebrow: "I wonder what that woman meant by that."

"Every time I shake his hand, and he's there, that's what she says to me,"  the man shrugs: "I don't know why she said a lesser number to the General. I don't know why she said nothing to you."

"She makes you unnerved, though."

"Yes," Ganz admits, looking off in that direction: "I should never have allowed the mystics here, but I am told certain parties in the new Germany appreciate what they bring to the table. And I suppose, as a procurer I must cater to certain tastes I do not enjoy, much less appreciate."

"Or understand?"

Ganz smiles ruefully: "There is that, also, Oberstleutnant. Perhaps I am just as guilty of ascribing madness to that which I cannot grasp."

"Wilhelm, please," Kietel says, offering his own hand to shake: "And perhaps we are all guilty of many things. Such as impoliteness, especially on my part...?"

Ganz shakes his hand and smiles, this time for real.

And by the time von Schleicher and the doctor have parted -- each making assurances they will never live to keep -- the two men have formed the foundation for something much more lasting.

And dangerous. 

Tuesday: 1/5/16

So tell me, son -- do you remember when you first felt like you were just !@#$ing getting old?

Was it the first time something inside you seriously broke? Did you make a perfectly normal movement and have half your goddamn body feel like you'd torn it open? Did you forget something you should have remembered, and not been able to get it back for a whole !@#$ing day?

Me, it was 1960. March, I think. I'd been at this !@#$ing spy game for a good decade and a half by then. 

And I recall that I put down my drink, looked around the utter damn mayhem that had been going on around me the whole !@#$ing night, and said, more to myself than anyone else, that I was really starting to feel old.

It was in a bar over in Hell's Kitchen. Greenies, it was called. It was a !@#$ty, cramped place with mirrors on the ceiling, a floor so sticky you couldn't !@#$ing mop it, and chairs that were stolen from every other bar in town. 

The liquor was !@#$ing watered down, the beer was a joke, and sometimes they couldn't coax warm water from the damn boiler for days on end, so the glasses had to be spit-shined. And the guy behind the bar took some real delight in serving glasses cleaned with his own saliva, let me !@#$ing tell you.

Now, I can tell what you're asking, son. With all the great ability and awesome firepower that someone like myself has, why the !@#$ would I be hanging out in such a rotten place?

Well, son, it's because SPYGOD has needs. Some of these needs involve saving America from her enemies, both foreign and domestic, with some of the biggest !@#$ing guns I can get Uncle Sam to subsidize for me. And some of them involve finding some cute young man with a butt that won't quit, and taking that ass back to the B.U.I.L.D.I.N.G for a proper spin.

And, for all its many failings, Greenies was good if you really just needed some man on man, back in the day.

You see, Greenies was one of the old, mob-run gay joints that only !@#$ing thrived here because the mob was running it. And it had a built in clientele because, somehow, word had gotten around that if you were new to the scene, and needing an experienced hand, you could go there for some expert handling.

(Green means inexperienced. New gays are Greenhorns. And the place was called Greenies. You do the damn math, son.)

Now, any other town? Come Saturday night, the cops would have shown up to roust all the boys they caught dancing cheek to cheek on the sticky floor, or taking too long in the gents. And then they'd take them all downtown for a little rough trade of their own. 

The kind you don't get to !@#$ing say "no" to, if you get my drift. 

But here in New York City the cops were on the damn mob payroll, and us gay folks were good damn business. Especially because we didn't have much of a !@#$ing alternative, unless we wanted to risk getting thrown out of proper clubs, or try and hook up at depressingly chichi happenings in the more artsy corners, which were always too damn Red for my blood.

What is it with communism and college age gays, anyway, son? I could !@#$ing tell you how we get the boot over in Russia, except that no one ever !@#$ing listens.

(And Russia isn't Russia, anymore, either, damn it.)

...

So anyway, I had the !@#$ing mob to thank for the fact that I could go get a damn boy on a Saturday night after a long week of !@#$ing killing supercommies, supervillains, and supernazis for the US of A.

Now you know me, son. I got my own complicated relationship with the goombahs, as well as my own Italian heritage to contend with. So I always tried not to !@#$ing overthink the issue, and just contend with Jack Daniels that wasn't actually Jack Daniels and nervous, fresh faces from below The George who'd never even known you could put a whole fist up in there.

But I always thought those mafia dons would !@#$ing !@#$ themselves if they knew that I was cruising in their sorry joints, drinking their diluted !@#$, and leaving some interesting stains of my own in darkened corners. In fact, I can almost guarantee there would have been a !@#$ing uproar, which is why I always overtipped the bartender and told him "I wasn't !@#$ing here."

(And he just shrugged, took the money, spat in a glass, and rubbed it clean.)

Heh, those were some times, son. And that time in question? It involved a whole lot of real alcohol we brought in special for the occasion, some killer amphetamines no one !@#$ing knew about, and a conga line of fresh boys up from Jersey who didn't know that what we got up to that night wasn't !@#$ing normal behavior.

So, one hell of a train later, I'm at the bar, feeling wiped out in that special, good way. You know the way I mean, son. It's when the testosterone is gone, the drunk is finally hitting, and the tweak is like sprinkles of fairy dust behind your eyes. 

Better than a damn speedball any day.

And I look in the cracked mirror behind the bar, ringed in by bottles whose contents do not match their wrappers. And I wonder how long mama's little Angelito is going to look like he just !@#$ing walked out of Camp Rogers, full of superjuice and ready to kill goddamn Japanazis for Christ and Country and all the girls back home.

And I say "Damn I feel old."

And I actually !@#$ing believed it, then.

...

That was 1960, son. Five years later, I had to jam a piece of alien archaeology in my damn noggin in order to save the !@#$ing world. And it apparently made me something like a damn god, but was also slowly turning my brains to goddamn sludge in my own skull. If I didn't have the power to regenerate, well, son, I'd have been dead within a year.

As it was? I !@#$ing had that thing in me for almost fifty. Every time I turned around it was showing me something new to keep me from realizing it was melting my grey matter. New senses and powers created by the fact that my original powers would not let me !@#$ing die, and found ways to repair the damage that expanded my mind.

And I was so drunk and stoned and distracted by man-ass that I didn't !@#$ing care.

Now it's gone. I apparently !@#$ing used it to save the world, again, which is kind of damn ironic if you ask me. And as soon as it was out of my head, well, I went downhill really quickly. The doctors say it's a goddamn miracle I survived as long as I did.

And now I'm awake, and alive. My head's back to normal, mostly, thanks to some abused supergod technology.

And yeah, I'm blind as a goddamn bat. But I'm finding a way around that, thanks to my old superpower.

Speaking of which, you like the shades? The guy who says he's my goddamn fiance made the suggestion at that 5 Napkin Burger place he took me on New Years, when we finally got out of the !@#$ing hospital. He says they're very Thomas Dolby, but I don't know who the !@$ that is.

And that's the big damn problem, son. All the memories I had of my life, my job, and this damn city? Everything I said and did? Everyone I saved or shot? All the revolutions I caused or stopped? All that !@#$ing !@#$ I called my life?

It's all gone, now, son. All of it.

And all I got to remember it by is the tapes I made, most of which are self-congratulatory as !@#$ing hell, and the notes I took, which are !@#$ing chickenscratches by now.

...

Which maybe wouldn't be so bad, except that this city has left me behind.

Not only is Greenies not there, anymore, but the building it's in is not where it was, either. Nothing is.

They tell me the goddamn city got turned into a !@#$ing computer, years ago, by some asshole robot dude from the future. And while we can't fix it, we can at least make the program it's crunching so damn difficult that it only picks up the buildings and moves them around every couple of years, instead of constantly.

Some villain named Machinehead runs the city, now. He's been literally reformed by the guy who ran it before, along with some guy I apparently beat into shape after I caught him being a lousy damn villain, himself. And I guess the guy that ran it before is the son of the daughter of the man I knew as The Owl, and he's dead, and...

Well, you get the drift, son. Whole lot of !@#$ing water under that bridge I can't see.

Good news? The city's got a lot of goods and services for free, and one !@#$ of a defense system.

Bad news, now that my fiancee's gone off to deal with some crazy damn Space Service problem I can't !@#$ing know about, yet? I can't !@#$ing find anything I knew.

My old house I grew up in? Not where it was. And maybe I don't want to go back there, anyway.

The bars I got drunk and blown in, back in the day? Not where they were. And most of them aren't what they were, either.

The various neighborhoods and ethnic hangouts? Not here, anymore. Little Italy is scattered to hell and gone, just like all the others. Chinatown, Little India, Haitian Town, the Jewish neighborhoods...

It's all gone, son. !@#$ing all of it.

It's not my town, anymore. It's changed too much.

And I didn't change along with it.

...

So here I am. It's !@#$-all in the early AM, and I'm wandering around like a junkie in search of a score, looking for something I can identify other than the B.U.I.L.D.I.N.G., which they don't want to !@#$ing let me in, yet.

I got a key to a luxury apartment I don't want to !@#$ing sleep in -- not alone, anyway. I got a hundred bucks burning a hole in my damn pocket that I don't know the worth of, anymore. I got clothes that aren't really mine, and no way of knowing if they're fashionable or not.

And I see bar after bar I don't know, playing music I've never !@#$ing heard, all full of happy, laughing faggots who've lived through some plague I missed out on. All of whom not only don't have to worry about being run in for dancing slow and close, but probably know openly gay cops, and are planning their damn legal weddings.

None of whom know what it's like to have to drink alcohol-flavored water in crappy, broken bars because it's the only place they can be out and safe.

...

Dear god, someone take my hand. Someone lead me somewhere safe and clean. Someone show me the heart and soul of this city I don't know anymore, in this world I don't understand.

Someone !@#$ing take me home, again.

Wednesday: 1/6/16

"Come on, man," Myron says to Number Two -- currently restrained on his bed to keep him from playing with his own special brand of number two -- and not liking the look in the man's eyes: "You have to know how."

The man won't speak, though. He grits his teeth and whines like a puppy afraid of being beaten.

"Alright, then," Myron says, looking at the photos the doctors took of his !@#$ty illustrations -- day after day of turd landscapes and scrawled, half-formed words: "Is the answer here, somewhere? Did you write it down so you didn't have to say it? Is that it?"

More looks of helplessness. More tears.

"You know, I'm trying to help you, here," Myron says, changing tactics: "That nasty doctor? The one you used to have running the machines at the hospital? I think you pissed her off one time too many, back when you were in charge. And she's chomping at the bit to put you in treatment.

"I might be your last chance to get out of it."

More tears. More gritting of teeth -- so taut and tight it's a wonder he doesn't shatter something.

"Alright, then," Myron sighs, walking out of the room: "You change your mind? You tell them. I'll come anytime.

"Just don't wait too long," he says, turning back and pointing to the light fixture above the bed: "You know what'll happen after curfew."

And then he's out into the hallway, and facing the nasty doctor in question.

"So what's all this, then?" she asks, looking at him like he's an insect she found underfoot: "Are you using me as the boogeyman, here?"

"Aren't you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow: "If so, you're not doing a good job of it. It's been a week and he still hasn't !@#$ing spilled anything."

"He knows all our techniques and tricks," she sighs: "He watched them happen. He knows what to expect. Even regressed like this, he's able to see through the illusions and fight the directives."

"Then up the goddamn dose," Myron orders her.

"We might get better results if we don't push him," she says: "I'm noticing he's starting to talk in his sleep."

"Anything significant?" Myron asks, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Nothing too intelligible yet," she admits, shaking her head: "Words and phrases, mostly. '42,' 'below,' 'fire.' That and something about Morlocks, but-"

"Oh sure, blame the problems on !@#$ing H.G. Wells," he snorts: "I don't have time for him to compose poetry in his damn sleep, lady. I don't care what you have to do. You got bad science? Use it. Use it all!"

"And what if it kills him?"

"Hey, he's not some !@#$ing innocent here. He's the guy who ran the machine. So if he gets his brains turned to tapioca so we can get out of here, well, I'm willing to call it karma."

"You might want to be careful," she advises as he walks off: "The thing about karma is that it bites both ways."

"Bite me," he says, flipping her the bird as he goes: "!@#$."

She says a few choice things to that, but he doesn't care. He's already well down the hallway, wondering how to many more days he can keep the Chess Master from realizing he knows that she knows what he knows, now.

And if he'll even survive that discussion...

* * *

"What do you mean they went on the raid without me?" New Man shouts, running from his tent to the staging area where the rest of the team should be, but aren't.

"Just that, my friend," Al Mubaraz says: "They left me here to guard it, and you."

"Why would I need guarding?" the older hero asks, turning to look at the short, Qatari man.

"Because they don't trust you, anymore," he says, perhaps too conversationally for the circumstances: "And I think they don't trust me, either. So perhaps this is a test to see which of us is less trustworthy."

"What the !@#$ do they think I'm doing to do?" New Man says, seeing the horizon explode, and knowing what that means. 

"Sabotage the war, to hear them tell it," he shrugs.

"Even Chinmoku," New Man sighs, shaking his head: "I could see the French... Yanabah. But him?"

"Even Demir Ruzgar," the swordsman says, pointing: "We were as brothers, before. Now he looks at me like I am a stranger. Even an infidel, if you can believe that."

"Something is wrong, here," the older hero says, not happy to have to state the damn obvious: "They shouldn't be acting like this. And they wouldn't be, either. Something has happened."

"I agree," the man says, extending a hand: "Perhaps we should find out what...?"

New Man smiles and nods, and takes the man's hand. 

And then everything explodes...

Thursday: 1/7/16

It's arguing that wakes SPYGOD up -- loud, shrill, and unmistakably Thai, counterpointing the song playing in the background.

(Tits on the radio. Did he hear that right?)

Then there's the sound of a scuffle as two slight Asian boys dressed like girls playfully fight over a diaphanous green dress that shouldn't be able to stand up to that kind of tug-of-war.

The apartment smells of Thai curry, French perfume, and cheap cigarettes. His head feels like someone hit it with a metal shovel. And his mouth is filled with the taste of half-upchucked whiskey and a day's worth of unswallowed spit.

"Oh good jesus !@#$ing christ," SPYGOD mumbles as he tries to sit up on the couch he's clearly been on for at least a day. His clothes are sticky and his head hurts.

(Somehow his "glasses" stayed on this whole time, and he makes a note of this.)

"He awake!" one of the katooeys says. She's tall and lanky, with big lips and small eyes overshadowed by mascara and fake eyelashes from hell.

"Hey you!" the smaller one says, leaping over onto the couch and going for a hug: "You been away long time, mister SPYGOD. We missed you!"

"Hey, now," SPYGOD says, somehow unable to disentangle himself from her: "Hey. Hey! I'm !@#$ing hurting, here."

"Oh, we know," the taller one says, shouting something to someone in the other room. There's a reply, and then a third person comes over. She's dressed up in blue go-go shorts and a My Little Brony t-shirt, and carrying a tray of food.

"What the hell is this?" SPYGOD asks, almost swooning from the fumes. It appears to be rum-soaked fruit, two bloody marys stuffed with more meat than ice, a whole package worth of fried bacon, and a half a quiche with chili paste smeared on the top.

"It's your Hunters breakfast," the one in the t-shirt says: "What we could get, anyway."

"Holly already use the cocaine," the tall one accuses the short one who's got SPYGOD in a death hug.

"You had some too!"

"I did not," the tall one snorts, crossing her arms over her small chest: "Cocaine not for ladies."

"Well, you're no lady, Jo-Jo," the one in the t-shirt says, heading back to the kitchen.

"Sut!" Jo-Jo yells at her, flipping her the bird. Holly just laughs and tries to give SPYGOD a deep kiss.

"Woah, hey!" SPYGOD says, putting up a hand: "You might not want to do that, hon. I taste like ass."

"I like taste of ass," Holly grins: "You know that, I think?"

"What is all this?" SPYGOD says, all but tossing her off him: "Who the !@#$ are you? How the !@#$ did I get here?"

"Oh come on," Jo-Jo says: "Don't make like you don't know us. You still paying rent on this place."

"What?"

"Maybe he has amnesia?" the girl in the brony shirt says, poking her head around the corner: "Maybe he got hit in the head one time too many?"

"Oh !@#$," SPYGOD sighs, leaning back into the couch and closing his useless eyes behind his glasses, which continue to see for him: "Did we used to... date?"

The girls all look at him, and then they laugh -- loud and braying.

"Oh honey, yes," Holly says, patting his thigh: "We date all the time."

"You come driving up in your flying car," Jo-Jo says, miming someone using a steering wheel: "Toot toot your horn, we all come out."

"You'd fly us back to your penthouse, three or four of us at a time," the brony says: "We'd spend the night eating takeout from that place with the crazy, one-legged guy and drinking Singha."

"Then we drink you," Holly says, grinning: "And you sing that song to me, because my name Holly and you like that one band."

"No, he sang it to me," the brony insists.

"What band?" SPYGOD asks, genuinely confused.

"Frankie," the brony replies, pointing to herself: "You said you'd take me to Hollywood, someday."

"And then you make us breakfast," Holly says, flipping Frankie the bird with one hand as she waves to the tray: "Maybe make bad people walk off the edge if they try and kill you."

"Or maybe just have that scary tranny robot try chase us out the elevator," Frankie snorts.

"And you pay us a lot of money," Jo-Jo grins: "Still paying for things with your money, year later."

"Well, !@#$," SPYGOD sighs: "Is this a bad time to tell you I'm engaged?"

"Oh, we do you both, one night," Holly says: "Your handsome blonde man!"

"Wait, we did what?"

"Lots of things," Jo-Jo chuckles: "I think you got magnesia."

"Amnesia," Frankie corrects, more a sigh than a word.

"So how did I get here?" SPYGOD asks: "Cause I definitely got !@#$ing amnesia on that."

"Other night, we were out working, and Holly saw you," Jo-Jo says, grinning.

"You all cold and alone and scared," Holly says, leaning closer: "Also really drunk."

"You were pounding Jack straight from the bottle," Frankie says: "About half of it was gone, and you were talking about getting old, and nothing was where it was."

"You also shooting guns at cars."

"Oh !@#$," SPYGOD shouts, patting himself down: "Please tell me I didn't kill anyone. Please tell me I didn't kill anyone. Please tell me I didn't !@#$ing kill anyone. Please !@#$ing tell me I didn't !@#$ing kill anyone-"

"Ahem," Frankie says, holding up the weapons in question by their trigger guards, like soiled condoms: "I took them off you before you did anything stupid."

"More stupid," Jo-Jo says.

"You just big stupid," Holly says, patting the tray: "Eat your breakfast. Maybe you take us shopping?"

SPYGOD looks at the food. He inhales, and then puts a hand over his mouth, and runs for the bathroom, almost knocking the tray over on the way.

"You sure that SPYGOD?" Jo-Jo asks, wondering if she should just drink the bloody marys herself.

"I'd recognize that ass anywhere," Frankie says, trying to ignore the sounds coming from the bathroom as she goes back to whatever she was doing in the kitchen.

Friday: 1/8/16

"Well, that's a damn relief," Director Straffer says, turning around in his office chair as he talks into his pad: "Thanks for letting me know, Machinehead."

"He says he needs a few hundred to pay to the ladies," the AI says: "Something about breakfast and a trip to Bad Girls."

"Sounds about right," Straffer sighs:"Is he alright?"

"He was quite upset when they found him. Also quite drunk. I was debating whether to appear and talk sense or just send the police."

"Well, thanks for looking out for him, too," his fiancee chuckles: "Let me guess, he couldn't sleep alone?"

"I suppose," Machinehead sighs: "But he's back at the apartment, now. And alone."

"Hopefully he stays there, for now," Straffer says: "I'll talk to him tonight. I've got a lot of work waiting for me."

"Is it... as bad as they say?" the AI asks, looking genuinely concerned.

"It's not good," Straffer says, looking at the telemetry they're getting from Mars.

The garbage left over from the Decreator is coming closer to the planet. It's only a matter of weeks before even more of it slams into the surface.

And if the projections are correct, this will destroy all life on the planet.

Which means that the refugee situation just got even worse than they could have imagined...

* * *

"Of course, that just means more bad press," the Candidate's Campaign Manager's chief intern says, sipping at his longnecked beer as he and the two new aides relax at a downbeat, quiet bar: "Stupid !@#$."

"Hey, now," Bobbi (aka Jana) teases him, winking over her glasses: "Some of us like being !@#$y."

"Well, okay," the aide says, blushing a little: "But still, pulling a stunt like that. She should have known she'd get ejected. I think that was the plan all along."

"It's possible," Frank (aka Karl) says, sipping at his own beer: "But it makes an important point."

"He does have a negative perception among that community," Jana says.

"It's not like they're going to vote for him, anyway," the aide sighs: "Not with everything he's saying about immigration restrictions, and deportation."

"Do you think he's right?" Karl asks.

"About that?" the aide chuckles, shaking his head: "Hell no. I think it's sick and wrong. I think he knows that, too, but he knows it'll get him elected. Just like almost anything he says, really."

He blinks at that, looking off into the distance: "I don't know why I just said that."

"There's truth in wine," Jana smiles, moving her hand juuuuuuuuust a little closer to his.

"It's not like we're going to tell anyone," Karl smiles: "Tonight's off the books, right?"

"Absolutely," the aide agrees, maybe more forcibly than he should: "No holds barred, nothing held back. We worked hard this week, and we'll work hard every week until November. And if we play our cards right, we'll be on the train when it leaves for DC."

"Is that why you're working for him?" Jana asks: "You don't agree with a lot of what he says. I can tell from how you wince at the news."

"I'm here to get a job when I graduate college," the kid admits, perhaps astounded how readily the words roll off his tongue: "The only reason I signed up with him is because he's going to be the next President of the United States. That's it. If I thought Kasich had a chance in hell I'd be there."

"Well, he doesn't," Karl shrugs: "And our man does."

"There's no shame in calculated compromise," Jana adds: "It's what the town is built on. It's what democracy is all about..."

She moves her hand onto his. He doesn't move it.

Jana looks at Karl, who looks back at her. She nods, he returns it.

And as she and the aide discuss a different kind of compromise, he quietly excuses himself to the men's room, there to ditch the Truth Powder they poured into his beer when he was looking elsewhere...

Saturday: 1/9/16

"So, did they learn anything interesting?" Randolph Scott asks Helmut as they sit around the break room, drinking coffee in the early morning.

"A lot," the clone says, raising his leather cowboy hat up over his eyes: "For one thing, Karl's glad the man's heterosexual. He wasn't looking forward to taking one for the team."

"That was never his style, was it?"

"No, it was more Gunther's..." Helmut says, and then trails off, remembering his brother's sad death.

"So," Randolph says, after they've both hidden their tears: "What did they find out?"

"No one in the campaign wants to be there," the large clone says, leaning forward and cocking his head as though someone were whispering into his ear -- which the others are -- : "Just about everyone is working an angle. They're all figuring on getting jobs after the election, or springboarding onto someone else's if he self-destructs between then and now."

"Oh happy day," the outlaw journalist grins: "What else?"

"There's financial mishandling. Everyone actually in the campaign has got a hand in the pot, somewhere. They figure the money's just tumbling out of his pockets, why not take advantage."

"That's an indictment of his people, but not him," Randolph says, thinking: "Still, I can use it if we can prove it."

"Karl says he hasn't seen any shady people hanging around... well, shadier than usual. You know how campaigns can be."

"Don't I !@#$ing ever."

"And Jana says that the guy is saying that, according to the Campaign Manager, every night he gets a phone call, and he has to take it," Helmut says, raising an eyebrow: "It's not his wife."

"A mistress?" the reporter says, astounded: "A boyfriend?"

"No. It doesn't sound anything like that, at least from what she told this guy. He actually defers to this person."

"And what does he say to this person?"

"She doesn't know. He always excuses himself and takes it in private. She figures it's one of the Koch brothers, telling him what to do..."

"Except that we know the Kochs !@#$ing hate him," Randolph Scott considers, leaning back in his chair and sipping at the coffee. His mug says I USE THE ENEMY. 

"Jana says that if we get close enough to the Campaign Manager though the aide, we might be able to be there when he takes a call," Helmut says: "And then we could listen in."

"Do it," Randolph says: "Just tell them to be careful. If they get their cover blown, this whole expose is in the !@#$."

Helmut nods, wondering if he's as concerned about Karl and Jana's safety as he is about the story. But he lets it go, knowing that he's just being silly.

Isn't he...?

* * *

"What do you mean, you don't know who David Bowie is?" Frankie asks, clearly astounded.

"I don't," SPYGOD grouses, downing the last of the beer he's been nursing for the last half an hour, and trying to ignore Holly's fumbling attempts to put her hand on his crotch, under the table.

They're sitting at a booth at some place called Lovegun. Apparently it closed, some time ago, but someone keeps throwing money at it to open it temporarily. On such nights it's a cash-only enterprise run by a pair of ultra-hip, white-blonde entrepreneurs who are either brother and sister, lovers who've tried to transform into each other, or some combination of the two.

And, on such nights, it's a crazy, anything goes party where no one gets excluded, and all are welcome, so long as certain standards of behavior are obeyed.

(No !@#$ing on the floor is apparently a strict rule, as one of Jo-Jo's friends found out the hard way, earlier...)

The ladies are all pretty as pictures, wearing the clothes SPYGOD bought them to say "thanks" for getting his drunk ass off the streets. They're also made up to within an inch of their incandescent lives, and quite lit up on nearly-florescent drinks.

(Not to mention marching powder, unless Jo-Jo's coming down with a cold.)

"This is good !@#$," SPYGOD says, looking at the label: "Yuengling, huh? Well, at least they still make this."

"There's all kinds of craft beers, now," Frankie says, leaning in: "I can't go to the store without seeing a six pack from some company I've never heard of, before."

"Tell me more," SPYGOD says, scooting a little closer.

"You come back here," Holly giggles, leaning in closer: "No running away!"

SPYGOD sighs, and is about to say something, but then he realizes something is very wrong.

It's not a thing he could explain. There's no sound where there should be sound.

And then he's suddenly ducking under the table -- dragging Holly with him and pushing Frankie as far away from him as he can.

A steady, swift stream of small, high-pitched THWIPs come half a second later, and then the booth gets ripped not quite in half.

"Mother!@#$er!" SPYGOD shouts, hurling his empty bottle in the direction of their attacker -- a blurry figure he can just barely make out, standing on the edge of the floor. People are fleeing the distortion and screaming, adding to the panic.

The bottle shatters in the gunman's face, and for a moment the gun goes silent.

Then the distortion ends. The figure can be seen clearly.

An android of some kind. Industrial lines. A harsh, angry face, made in mockery of the human form.

DIE SPYGOD DIE! it chirps in a harsh voice, and takes aim again.

SPYGOD grabs what's left of the table and uses it as a shield. Useless, but enough of a stalling action to get some surprise.

Then he pulls out the very large handgun no one found on him when he was patted down at the door, and begins to fire it at the assassin's head -- one loud, carefully-controlled shot after the other.

The first shot destroys most of the android's CPU. The three that come after only add insult to injury.

And then SPYGOD's out from behind the table, walking slowly and carefully towards the toppling android as he makes fist-sized holes in its chest, shoulders, and pelvis.

Then he's out of ammunition, but the android's out of luck. It falls backwards onto the dance floor, quivering slightly.

"Everyone okay?" SPYGOD asks, not turning around.

Jo-Jo is crying, but not from pain or sadness. Holly is cursing in Thai over and over again.

And Frankie's standing behind him, peering at the smoking mess on the floor with some kind of fascination.

"Where did you hide that gun?" Frankie asks.

"Trade secret," SPYGOD says, making it go away again as he squats down to inspect the mess: "Get everyone out. Keep them out. Tell the two dye-jobs I'll pay for the !@#$ing damages."

"You got it," she says, going back to collect her roommates: "Anything else?"

"Yeah," he sighs, taking out the communicator he's been avoiding using all this time: "I don't see you for a while? Don't take it personally. I think the world's !@#$ing tired of waiting for me to catch up to it again."

She nods, hoisting Holly up to her feet: "You got it," she repeats.

"But Frankie," SPYGOD says, looking at her: "I am !@#$ing taking you to Hollywood, next time."

"Yeah, right," the katooey says, smirking as she goes. But somehow, he gets the sense she knows he's not entirely joking.

"Hello, COMPANY?" SPYGOD says, looking at the door at all the scared people milling outside of it: "This is SPYGOD. I need to talk to the Director. Like right !@#$ing now.

"Yeah," he sighs, kicking the android once for good measure: "I'll hold." 

Sunday: 1/10/16

So who's David Bowie, son? 

Well, that's a long !@#$ing story, as I found out last night when I got on Wikipedia and went looking. Turns out he's a British singer/songwriter and fashion icon who's been famous almost all the time I can't !@#$ing remember. He got known around 1969, which is about four years after I shoved the damn Chandra Eye in my head. 

And now, more than 50 years after I became host to some goddamn weird piece of the Decreator -- and don't even !@#$ing get me to explain that one, son -- he's still performing. Not touring, anymore. But he's still out there, doing his big damn thing, and changing with almost every different album. 

(And damn good looking, if I don't say so myself.)

His new one's called Black Star. I've been listening to it quite a bit, today. I feel like someone who's been handed a !@#$ing ray gun when all I knew before was a six-shooter, trying to listen to this thing, but it's growing on me. 

And I think I'm getting to understand what it is I've lost, finally.

When I came out of it, I was !@#$ing confused. I thought it was 1970, when I really should have thought it was 1965. And that's 50 years gone. 

I don't remember anything I did between then and now. I don't remember coming out to Richard !@#$ing Nixon. I don't remember the weird relationship I struck up with Ronald Reagan, or how I handled

I don't remember when the Olympians showed up, or how they left. I don't remember their making Deep-Ten, or that we had to blow it the !@#$ up when the big guns got pointed at us, rather than out at the angry, cold stars.

My war against international Communism is a big damn blank after 1965, which means I have no idea how or where I !@#$ing celebrated the Berlin Wall coming down. I don't remember the wetwork I did to bring it about, and all the times I killed the wrong person for the right reasons, or vice !@#$ing versa. Or the times I pulled the trigger and then lived to regret it, deeply. 

I'm told I killed Castro, though, which makes me !@#$ing happier than a bastard on father's day.

(And you know why, son. You know why.)

And I don't exactly remember how or why I decided to !@#$ up the apple cart and go after all the bad science and super terror groups I went after, a couple years ago, either. Something involving an explosion, I'm told. But somehow I was willing to gamble the whole world just to make up for my having been so lax with its safety all those years. 

Mostly because I didn't fear for my own. 

That's what being immortal does to you, apparently. You stop !@#$ing giving a !@#$. You see people as fleeting shadows who are here and then gone. Love is secondary to pleasure. Loyalty is temporary. 

And no one matters worth a damn but you.

So I got careless. I got sloppy. I figured I could just blow the !@#$ out of everything and walk out, not caring who didn't make it. 

And I really loved my people in the COMPANY because they were willing to follow me into both kinds of hell -- the one I walked into, and the one I left behind me. 

But when I say "I," son? I'm not really talking about me. Not anymore, anyway. I'm talking about the mother!@#$er I became after I'd had that thing in my head. 

The asshole who decided he could just do whatever, whenever, and !@#$ing get away with it because nothing short of an A-bomb would kill him. I think if I read another self-congratulatory report about how that asshole killed fifty supercommies with a toothpick and a drunken yak I'm going to burn the COMPANY archive down.

But you know what, son? That asshole... is gone. 

I don't know what all I did, and maybe I don't want to. Maybe it's not entirely a bad thing that I lost all those memories, because I also lost a lot of bad habits. A lot of poor decision making. 

A lot of callous disregard for others' lives and welfare. 

I mean, hell, it's not like I'm a damn virgin or anything. I got my anger and my appetites. My needs and my fury. And I'm told I still get nasty letters from the Secret Service Agent I !@#$ing threw in the way of the bullet meant for Jack Kennedy. 

(And how is he even still alive? Damned if I know.)

But I'm back, son. The real me is back. The person who knew what it meant when someone pointed a gun at him, or someone else. The agent who knew that a failed mission was a damn bad thing. 

The spy who knows that you hide what you know from everyone, which is why my fiancee still thinks I only lost 45 years instead of 50. 

The hero who wanted to protect his country because he loved it, and not because he thought he owed it for all the trouble he got into. 

So yeah. I lost a lot. But I got a lot back, too. Lazarus has finally woken the !@#$ up.

And maybe not a moment too soon, if what Josie is telling me is true...

Who's David Bowie? Immortal and changing. Never the same person twice, but yet constant. Always interesting, even on the bad albums. Never boring. 

Who am I? I'm SPYGOD, again. 

And it's about !@#$ing time. 

 (SPYGOD is listening to Lazarus (David Bowie) and having a Lazarus) (David Bowie - RIP)