Humanity has taken to the marking of days as their most common pastime. Days to celebrate births, anniversaries, and milestones; holy days and days of remembrance; days for things we wish to always remember and days that will forever live in infamy.

There are three hundred and sixty-five days in a standard year, plus one on leap year. As of the timeframe of this story, there are nearly nine billion human beings on Earth. This means at least twenty-four million people share a birthday with any given person.

Isn’t it odd, then, statistically speaking, that people see fate or kismet in two tangentially related events happening on the same day?

“Everyone else is gone, Juniper.” A voice said in her ear. She was surrounded by forest; leafy boughs and undergrowth impeding her vision in all directions. “You’re the last one in the field. The assailant has incapacitated everyone else. They won’t be able to help you.”

Juniper bit her lip and kept going. She didn’t even know what the objective was. The dead weight of the weapon in her hand feeling quite foreign to her. “What am I supposed to do?” She asked, eyes darting about her. “Am I supposed to find and save the others? Is there some kind of flag?”

Pressing up tightly against a tree, she scanned her surroundings again. ‘Be aware of your surroundings’ had been the theme of training for the past week, which was odd, considering that she’d expected ‘fighting large scale opponents’ would be on the docket after the battle at ConquesTech…

The voice was silent. That was never a good sign. Juniper turned a quick circle. There was still nothing. She needed to figure out what was going on. That was number one. Or was it finding the others? They would be a priority, right? Absently, she snapped a twig off an overhanging branch.

“Ow!” The limb twitched around to hit her, but Juniper had already gone down to a knee and raised the weapon. Two knot holes glared balefully and the plant lunged. The gun made a ‘paff’ sound. “Damnit!” the tree groaned.

Before Juniper’s eyes, the bark turned supple and melted to pale white. Twigs and branched retracted into fingers and arms and a head emerged from the crotch of the tree, which now became a pair of shoulders. Cyn frowned at the florescent blue splatter of paint on her forearm. “I should have just pounced you instead of waiting to get closer.” She said.

“Cyn?” Juniper blinked. “But Laurel said everyone else was out, how—“

“The name of the game, my twitch shooting chum,” Cyn said, motioning for Juniper to walk with her, “was predator and prey. I was the predator and…”

“I was the prey?” Juniper asked, giving the gun a philosophical look. “But I turned out to be the predator, huh?”

“That’s why they call us wily humans the most dangerous game, I guess.” Cyn offered as they emerged from the woods and headed to the patio where Laurel and the others were waiting.

“Good job, girls.” Alexis called as they came up the stairs. “The point was to see how well Cyn could use her powers to create active camouflage and for the rest of you to counter it with our lessons on observing your environment.

“I didn’t even see her coming.” Warrick admitted. He and Melissa sat side by side against the stone railing of the patio, having been taken out early.

“I didn’t hear her either.” Melissa said, her eyes closed.

“Your active camouflage capability must be better than we expected.” Laurel said. She and Ian were at one of the patio tables having cereal.

Cyn smiled widely at the praise, but let it drop was she lowered her gaze and thoughtfully scratched her head. “Yeah, about that… active’s not really my thing. Shifting color once every few minutes is one thing. But blending to match the background as I go by? That made me really hungry and tired really fast. So I just shifted into a tree and waited for them to come to me.”

Melissa’s eyes flashed open. “You beat me by turning into a tree!?” She looked to Alexis as if for support. “That isn’t fair, that’s not active camouflage at all! I can accept being last in all these things all the time, but not if you’re going to cheat!”

“Actually.” Ian said, “We only told her she had to tag each of you out without you seeing her. We kind of hoped she’d think up camouflage on her own. After all, part of the exercise is creativity.”

Alexis nodded. “And once she realized that that wasn’t to her advantage, she adjusted. Good job, Cyn.”

“See?” Cyn stuck her tongue out at the redhead. “So there.” Melissa sighed in exasperation and put her head back against the wall.

“On that note…” Alexis said, standing from her seat. “It’s almost nine, so Warrick, Juniper? You’d better get dressed if you want ride with me to see Professor Demetrius about helping him out this summer. Melissa, Cyn, would you like to come too?”

Cyn thought for a moment but shook her head. “I think I’m going to spend my first full day out of school making like a mermaid.” She gestured toward the pool. “Maybe literally.”

Alexis nodded and turned to Melissa. “Actually…” the redhead said, in response to the look, “I was going to get a cab downtown.”

“To see Terry?” Juniper asked.

Melissa gave her a sharp look, but nodded. “Yeah. It’s nothing really, we’re just going to see Vanished at the multiplex. It’s supposed to be pretty important; the first 3-d immersive independent film and all. He got advanced showing tickets because he’s a reviewer for the Interesting Times website. So he…”

She trailed off. The others were looking at her with the collective expression of people waiting for the right time to exclaim ‘awwwww, how sweet’. It was a sickening expression. “You know what?” she stood up, “I really don’t have to explain it.” With that, she retreated into the house.

“I think it’s really nice that she met a boy she likes.” Juniper said in the following silence. “Maybe she’ll have a better attitude about things now.” The last part was said with all the hope she could muster.

“You haven’t actually met or heard of Terry Whitman, have you?” Cyn asked. Juniper shook her head. Cyn chuckled knowingly. “Come on, I’ll explain while we change.” They headed in with Warrick following soon after.

“I’ll go get changed too.” Alexis said to Ian and Laurel. “Did either of you want to come?”

“Actually,” Laurel cut in before Ian could say anything, “I need to go over some alterations I made to the Chaos costume with Ian.” She cocked her head at Ian and gave a sweet smile. “Sorry.”

“I guess not.” Ian gave Alexis an apologetic look. “How about we go out tonight though?”

“It’s a date.” Alexis started back toward the house.

“So what’s this about my costume?” Ian asked, turning to Laurel.

“Nothing, just a cheap ploy to talk to you alone.” Laurel admitted.

Ian gave her a measured look. “Okay…?”

“Monday is June 18th, Ian.” The genius said flatly. “I know you missed it last year, but I really think you should go home for it this year. And… I think you should ask Alexis to go with you.”

Biting his lower lip, Ian reluctantly shook his head. “Maybe I should go; it was hard missing it last year. But I can’t ask Alexis to go with me. She wants to keep an eye out for possible fallout from Morganna last week, and this is—“

“Personal?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Ian, I know you pretty well and I know that’s what you were going to say.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I also know that Alexis means a lot to you and so does your family’s day of remembrance. If you two are really serious about your relationship, you’re going to have to share it with her sooner or later. Plus, maybe this will help her get over her own anxiety over going back to Louisiana after the whole Tome debacle.”

“You are the smartest person I know and trusting in you has never done me wrong.” Ian reasoned with a shrug. “Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“Welcome to AI Solutions Unlimited.” The cheerful, brunette secretary chirped as a spindly man in dark glasses walked up to her desk. He carried a slim briefcase with him.

“Yes.” He flashed her a genial smile. “The name’s Henson, James Henson. I’m here to meet with Mr. Atwater to discuss the contract I have with him regarding the AI systems you’re developing for my animatronics firm?”

After a quick consultation with her computer screen, the secretary nodded. “Here we are. Mr. Atwater is expecting you, I’ll have security escort you to his office.”

“Thank you very much, miss.” He nodded.

“My pleasure, sir.”

A few minutes later, he was escorted into an express elevator by a uniformed security guard. Not long after the doors closed, the guard spoke. “Jen said you were James Henson? The James Henson?” the wiry man nodded. “Well, it’s an honor, sir. My kid loves your shows. Especially the one with the family of turtles.”

“Always nice to meet a fan.” Henson said cordially. “I have to say, I find it interesting that a company like this feels the need to escort guests around with an armed guard.” He gestured to the security guard’s sidearm.

“Wouldn’t have needed it in years past.” The guard said, “But corporate espionage is big these days.”

“Not surprising.” Henson said, “Especially with all the AI companies trying to nab the billion dollar HAL award and the inevitable government contracts for developing the first true learning AI.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” The guard said, “I’m no engineer. I’m just here to keep it all safe. If I were an engineer though, I wouldn’t mind that billion dollars.”

“That’s a little short sighted, isn’t it?” Henson asked, “I mean, the AI program alone would be worth billions by itself, and think what you could build with a computer brain that thinks and learns on its own.”

“I guess you’d use it to make those turtles into real actors, eh?” the guard joked.

“Something like that.” Henson said, adjusting his glasses.

The elevator doors opened into a white tiled office. In fact, everything was white; walls, ceiling, furniture. Even the fasteners and other odds and ends were white, as if a massive, localized blizzard had struck.

At the far end of the blank expanse Donovan Atwater, owner and lead programmer of AI Solutions Unlimited sat in his white leather chair at his white ceramic desk, working on his white plastic computer. The fact that he himself was dressed all in black didn’t miss Henson’s attention.

“Your five o’clock, Mr. Atwater.” The guard reported. “James Henson.”

Atwater tapped a few more keys and made several gestures with his mouse, then looked up. “Thank you, Sam. Mr. Henson, good afternoon.” He stood and shook hands. “This is highly unusual; Mr. Drake usually meets with me to discuss your contracts for you. In fact, I believe that this is the first time we’ve met.”

“That it is.” Henson made a move as if adjusting his sunglasses, but lifted them instead, training his gaze on Sam the security guard. Eerily blue eyes danced as the guard fell instantly catatonic. Atwater soon joined him as ‘James Henson’ stared him down as well.

Replacing his shades, the Henson, really Aces High member Fellgaze put his briefcase on the desk and flipped it open. “Okay, we’ve got ten minutes.” He reported to the image of Thunderhead that appeared on the display inside the top of the briefcase.

“All I’ll need.” Thunderhead replied haughtily. He was wearing a complex metallic circlet on his head. “Okay, attach the cortical scanner to his temples so I can sift through his mind for his passwords.”

Fellgaze removed two thumb sized discs with trailing wires from the case and placed them on Atwater’s temples. “Done.”

One screen, Thunderhead’s eyes closed and he twitched infrequently for a few minutes. “Got it. Press his thumb down on the ‘G’ key of his keyboard, and then enter username ‘sg-sg1-10’ and the password ‘p3x774’. Copy the file ‘Cerulean’ from the directory ‘Kaleidoscope’.”

As Fellgaze got to work, fitting a flat format module into the drive, Thunderhead continued his perusal of the comatose man’s thoughts. “Wright’s source didn’t even know they’d completed it. Atwater was planning on releasing this little ditty as a surprise at the top of the quarter.”

“The HAL prize, the government checks and a spike in their stock price. Sorry, Donny, but that money is ours now, buddy.” Fellgaze said, watching the download continue. “Wright does have a lab ready to field this as their discovery right?”

“He better.” Thunderhead said, “If he’s just using this to build his oversized tinker toy and not milk the hell out of this cash cow, he’s a damn moron. Uh… ew.”

“What?”

“Nothing, Donovan here married real ugly and I stumbled into memories I’m never going to be able to get out of my brain.”

-- • --

“I’m not saying I don’t want to go.” Alexis said defensively. It was later that evening at Freeland House and she and Ian were folding clothes in the laundry room. “I’m just saying ‘can we afford to?’.”

“I’m not accusing you of not wanting to go.” Ian said, trying to figure out who the green skirt he was folding belonged to. “I just said I understood your reasons for not going. But Laurel has a valid point about this magic business; if something exceptionally dangerous is going to come from it, it may be weeks or months or years down the road. We can’t wait around for it to happen. And so far all we’ve heard about in Mayfield have been haunted houses, which we can’t do anything about anyway.”

“It isn’t just that, Ian.” Alexis took the skirt from him and putting it in Juniper’s basket. “What about Tome?”

“What about them? They’ve dropped off the face of the Earth now that the Academy’s gone. Good riddance, I say.”

“Laurel,” she said her friend’s name like it was an appeal to a higher authority, “says they’ve only gone to ground. Leading them back to our families is the last thing I want to do.”

“I don’t want to do that either.” Ian insisted, adding a pair of jeans to Juniper’s basket and a shirt to Warrick’s. “In fact, that’s why I stayed here last year. But even then, I…” he stopped and focused on separating a colony of socks that had decided to band together in the machine.

“You feel guilty about it?” Alexis asked, “Even though you know it was the right thing?”

Ian shrugged. “Was it? It’s not even guilt; it’s more like disappointment in myself. I feel like I betrayed Mom’s memory. More so than I did when I became a techie instead of a cop or Enforcer or joining the military. She always wanted us to do something with our lives that helped people.” He finished separating the socks and tossed them into his own basket. “She didn’t say anything when Isaac went to law school, but I could tell it broke her heart.”

Alexis fished a pair of Laurel’s socks out of Ian’s basket and put them in their rightful place. “Is that why you were so gung ho about being a prelate?”

“Both for her and for me, really.” Ian admitted. “I honestly did want to be someone that did good by people. It just wasn’t in the cards, you know? What I wanted to do and what I was good at didn’t mesh.”

“Ian, the power frames and armors you designed did help people. Just off the top of my head, half the armored police corps in the country use your designs, don’t they?”

Pausing in straightening one of his shirts Ian shrugged. “It’s a bit too indirect for my taste. Nothing like stopping the Mauler or putting the Fist of Justice in that loopy Sineater’s gob.”

Alexis smiled. “See, you’re doing what you want now.”

He put a hand on top of hers. “And I’m where I want to be now… except I need to take this trip.”

Nodding, Alexis let the moment hang just a few seconds before going back to clothes sorting. “I know how you feel. Maybe not on the scale you feel it, but I used to call every week and spend every major holiday at home. Now I think my family probably thinks I hate them or something. I even missed Nichole’s graduation.”

“But you’re worried that Tome will try to get to you through them?”

“Pretty much. As long as I stay here, I like to think they’re safe.” She tossed a towel bearing the Deathgate logo into Cyn’s basket. “But intellectually, I know that’s not true. If Tome worked that way, they would have tried with the Kaines already.”

Ian nodded. “I don’t think that’s so crazy, really. You worry for them just like you worry for us. But we’ve got to face facts, Alexis; it may be a long time before Tome is done for. Maybe they’ll always be around in some shape or form. Are we going to let them dictate our lives?”

“Ian…” Alexis began.

“No, hear me out.” He stopped her with a gentle tone. “They came for the kids and we stopped them. Took a few limbs off them in the process. And if they come for our families, God help them. I don’t know about you, but I plan to come down on them like a living hurricane if they try to pull something like that. They know that.” He gave her a searching look. “You know that. Don’t you?”

A weak smile crossed Alexis’s lips. “You know, I love it when you get all passionate and hotheaded.” She put a hand on his face. “But—“

“But?”

She slapped him. Not hard, not even enough to hurt; just a playful tap. “But… you need to learn to let me finish my sentences.” Her arms snaked around him and she pulled herself close. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to agree with you. And tell you that if you want to do this, you won’t have to do it alone as long as I’m around.

Dumbfounded at the ease with which he’d carried what he had expected would be an extended argument, Ian clumsily returned her embrace. “Have I told you how great you are lately?”

“No, and you don’t tell me I’m pretty often enough either.” She quipped.

With his head resting on her shoulder, something caught Ian’s eye. “I’d hate to break the mood, but I think we’re missing some clothes.”

Alexis disengaged herself from the embrace and turned to look. “Eh?”

“All Cyn’s got in her basket is a towel.” Ian pointed. “This isn’t the first time this has happened either. What, does she do all her laundry on her own?”

Shrugging, Alexis leaned on the dryer. “I have no idea. She spends a fortune and a half on clothes and things; they have to get clean somehow, don’t they?” She sighed. “That girl confuses me to no end. I’ll ask her some other time. No time now though, there’s a lot we have to do if we want to get to Colorado by the eighteenth.”

“You realize that technically, we’re terrorists just for contemplating this, right?” Legion asked, surveying the target location though field glasses. The world before his eyes was tinted with the green of night vision. “This isn’t penny ante shit; this particular NIH facility is where they keep the vault that’s got pretty much every horrible disease known to man.”

“We’re not trying to get into the vault, now are we?” Shine asked. “And besides, if you hadn’t been so squicked about training in teleporting groups, we could have gotten this crap while it was still in Los Angeles.”

“Hey, you’re the one that got banged up when I tried to ‘port’ with you in New York.” Legion pointed out.

“I heal quick now.” Shine said flatly.

“Right.” Legion said. “So we play this straight. I keep the guards busy while you get the goop. Doesn’t sound too hard.”

“What happened to your fear of being a terrorist?”

“Just pointing out the obvious.” Legion replied. “To tell the truth, this suits me just fine. My combat skills against a military garrison? Much more interesting than squaring off against one of New York’s gutter-prelates.”

“I seem to recall Whitecoat beating you. Twice.” Shine flashed her jagged toothed grin.

“Try and kill a fly with your bare…” He trailed off, realizing who he was talking to and just how good her reflexes were. “It’s a matter of scale.” He said haughtily.

“Riiiight.” Shine drawled. “Let’s just get to the mission – and remember, Brother doesn’t want casualties. At least none we can help.”

“Sounds like a challenge.” The teleporter smirked. “Bet my kill count will be lower than yours.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet.” Shine said, crouching in preparation to run. “Just get this started.”

Four guards manned the checkpoint that let vehicles into the NIH compound. To either side of the checkpoint were sentry towers containing three soldiers apiece. Intelligence provided by Brother Wright’s sources indicated that the on site barracks always contained an additional dozen men to periodically relieve the gate guards and those in the towers that lined the parameter.

All told a force of thirty-six soldiers was on duty at any given time. None of them were adequately prepared.

“Hey where’d he come from?” one of the four soldiers at the checkpoint directed the others’ attention to a figure approaching on foot, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket zipped all the way up. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and a Chicago Bears cap was pulled low over his eyes. “How’d he get so close without us noticing?”

One of his comrades checked his pistol and glanced up at the approaching figure. “Can someone give me a bomb scan? He might be a suicide bomber. I read somewhere that some of these groups have limited cloaking tech working.”

“Could be a psionic.” Another said, giving a meaningful look at the first speaker.

“Yeah, and what do you expect me to do about it?” he shot back. The man who had addressed him shrugged. There wasn’t any more time to discuss things. The bomb scan was clean and the trespasser was within speaking distance.

The soldier that had asked for the bomb scan stood up. “Sir, please present photo ID or we’ll have to ask you to turn back.”

The figure stopped within a few yards. “Don’t have ID.” He said a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Then we’ll ask you to turn back. This facility is open to National Institute of Health personnel only. Trespassing is a violation of United States statute—“

There was a metallic, snapping sound under the jacket. It drew everyone’s attention. Guns were swiftly unholstered. That’s when the intruder became a hazy blur and seemed to surge forward. Gunfire ripped the air, none finding its mark.

Legion reappeared in the midst of the checkpoint guards, brandishing a telescoping steel baton, which connected with one unfortunate man’s temple. His free hand executed a neat palm heel strike to another’s nose, causing it to geyser blood.

Before any of the soldiers could react, he was gone again. By now, the guards in the sentry towers had become alert to the action and had their rifles ready and seeking a target. The target came to them. In a blur of color and motion, Legion appeared in midair between a pair on one tower, grabbing them firmly by their shirts. He teleported with them – directly into the other tower, where he let the resultant momentum slam them into the three men there. All five went over the rail in a heap.

Down below, one of the gate guards who weren’t out cold or nursing a broken nose ran into the gatehouse to hit the alarm. He was leveled by a stiff arm as Legion appeared between him and the console. A sharp follow-up rap with the baton made sure he stayed down.

“Freeze!” Legion looked back to see the last gate guard training his sidearm on him.

“Should have just shot.” Legion chided. He blurred and stretched into infinity as the soldier did just that. A fraction of a second later, he was beside his quarry, swinging the baton. The weapon passed through its intended target, trailing a thin vapor behind it.

“I’m psionic too.” The soldier said, sidestepping away from Legion. PFC Arnold Partlowe, or as they called me at the Academy, Haze.”

A smug grin came over Legion’s countenance. “You’re the only psionic in this outfit?” He didn’t give Partlowe time to answer, he knew already. “This is who they send to guard the place? The guy whose defensive powers only help himself?”

Smugness growing by the moment, Legion collapsed the baton against his thigh. “Let’s make this a fair fight then; you can’t shoot me unless you and your gun go solid. I can’t hit you until I extend the baton. Let’s see if the Academy taught you any skills.”

Inside the facility, a chime sounded and a digitized, female voice sounded. “Welcome, Dr. Chow.” Shine glanced down at the pilfered security card to confirm that the man she’d knocked out to acquire it had indeed been Dr. Chow.

“Hey!” she looked up to see a security guard, this one clearly not military issue, sitting behind a desk in the room the security door had opened into. He was going for his sidearm.

Faster than he could react, she bounded across the room and seized him by the tie. Hauling hard, she pulled his head down to violently meet the desk. Before the noise of impact had faded, she grabbed his hair, pulled his head up, and punched him hard enough to knock him from his seat.

“I have to start paying more attention.” She chastised herself, taking the newly vacated seat. From a pouch strapped to her calf, she produced a small handheld and plugged it into the dataport on the guard’s desk. “And today’s top secret NIH codes are…” she said to break the tense silence as the device transmitted the proper access codes for the doors beyond.

Finally, there was a low rumble and the door to the inner chamber lowered into the floor, allowing a wave of freezing air to wash into the guard room.

Shine unplugged the handheld and walked to the door. It wasn’t even fully open before she leapt over it and into the laboratory beyond.

It was a modest sized room considering the layers of security it was behind. Several computers and lab tables crowded the small space, with a row of stasis lockers, the smaller, volatile item storing cousins of Project Tome’s stasis cells, behind. A blue glow permeated everything and was the only lighting present so as not to damage photosensitive experiments.

Noting the lights, Shine pushed her goggles up onto her forehead as she made her way to the lockers. Each had a digital readout with basic notes about their contents; the researcher assigned to them, and experiments already in progress. The one Shine was after bore a string of jargon that she didn’t understand, but had memorized so she could find it. Entering the proper combination shut down the stasis system and opened the door. Inside were racks upon racks of plastic vials containing pasty, white liquid.

“Jackpot.” Shine said, taking a handful and putting them in her pouch. “Legion, how are things outside?” she asked the handheld.

“Just fine.” Legion’s voice came. “It’s so cute when people try fighting with the odds stacked against them. When we get back remind me to look up ‘Haze’ in the database, I want to know if this guy was supposed to be a threat or not.” There was a pause. “So do you have the dermal repli… replu… the objective?”

“Right here.” Shine said, patting her pouch. “And it even came in my shade.”

-- • --

Alexis looked out the window of the taxi at the manicured lawns and scenic stone fences going by and smiled coyly. “You know, I thought that you just introduced yourself as being from Paradise as a lame come-on line back in school.”

Ian nodded. “Paradise, California, born and raised.” He chuckled knowingly, “Though I did mention it every chance I got because I thought it was a good line to use.” Alexis smirked and hit him playfully on the shoulder. “What? I was fifteen! The hormones, combined with going to a school where the student body is eighty percent female and lives in the same building as you—they make you do dumb things!”

“Shouldn’t you have stopped after it didn’t work the first fifty times?”

“Again, stupid teenager.” said Ian.

A chime sounded and the taxi rolled to a stop. “Destination reached: 445 Riley Lane, Paradise, California. A fare of one hundred and twenty-three dollars has been deducted from your credit card.” A slot opened in the seatback in front of them, from which emerged a tray holding Ian’s credit card and a printed receipt. “Thank you for choosing TransWay Transports. Please retrieve your card and receipt and have a wonderful day.”

Ian picked up the items and looked at the empty driver’s seat through the thick, smoked glass that separated the cabbie from the passenger compartment. “Friendly.” He said, grabbing his overnight bag and opening the door. He got out and held out a hand to help Alexis out. “You know, I how those things never make it to Mayfield.”

“Wave of the future, I’m afraid.” Alexis shrugged. “Can you really blame them though? The whole Linderman hijacking in New York got national attention and no companies want their cabbies to end up like poor Jerry Linderman.” She let him help her out and shouldered the old, well loved backpack that served as her overnight bag.

They made quite a pair, standing on the curb; Ian in a new sports jacket and Alexis in simple, but elegant black dress.

“Point taken.” Ian said. He looked forward, across the wide, well looked after lawn, to the French colonial he’d grown up in. A long, deep breath rose and fell in him. “Ready? He asked.

“Of course.” Alexis said. “And relax, you said your father didn’t sound upset with you when you called, there’s not reason for him to be upset now.” She urged him forward, staying close by his side.

Entirely too soon for Ian’s taste, they were up on the porch and at the door. Alexis hit the doorbell before Ian could stall any longer. After long minutes, the door opened and a man of about Ian’s height stood with the screen between the couple and himself.

The family resemblance was unmistakable. He and Ian shared the same brown hair, though the former’s was professionally cut. He also wore brow line glasses and had a moustache and short beard. After a moment of awkward silence, the stern facade cracked into a grin. “Well, if it isn’t my least favorite little brother.”

“I’m your only brother, Isaac, open the door.” Ian rolled his eyes.

Isaac made it a point to put great exaggeration and flourish in doing as asked before slamming Ian in the shoulder with his own shoulder. “Then by default, you’re my least favorite, right? Now get back outside, you know dad’s rules: ladies first.” He offered Alexis his hand like a knightly suitor before giving her a studying glance. “Wait, a minute, that’s no lady. Keyes?”

Alexis stepped up and slammed Isaac with her shoulder. “Yes.”

Isaac staggered back, having been taken completely off guard. He regained his balance quickly and laughed. “The last I heard about you, Ian was bawling on the phone to me about how he hadn’t heard from you in a year and he thought he’d missed an opportunity with you for the last time.”

“Isaac…” Ian started, but his brother ignored him.

“And here you are. Guess dreams come true, eh?” He leaned closer to her, “You realize he’s been trying to get your attention since you were in school, right?” Alexis blushed and looked at Ian who did likewise.

“Where’s Vince, Isaac?” Ian asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

The older brother made a dismissive gesture. “This is what you miss being gone for a year – we’re through, he’s in Detroit or wherever.” He turned his attention back to Alexis. “Anyway, I’m just happy this guy finally got his girl.”

“How’s the law firm?” Ian tried again.

That seemed to do the trick. “You’re looking at the newest junior partner at Hoffman, Wells, and Brown.” Isaac said proudly. “Just got a new office, my own assistant and I’m building my own client base.”

“Oh, god, you got him started on the firm again.” A voice drifted from down the hall. A lean figure appeared form the room beyond. He was only slightly shorter than the two brothers, with silver mixed into his once brown hair. A craved wooden cane with a cobra’s head as a top helped manage the prominent limp in his gait. “Isaac, they haven’t even sat down. Have I taught you nothing about manners? Sit ‘em down, offer ‘em a drink, I don’t care if he’s just your brother, this is my house and he’s a guest.”

“I’m a guest too, you know.” Isaac countered.

“You’ve been here all week.” Maxwell Smythe, the patriarch of the family said. After a moment of though, he sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it. Beers for my boys and… Alexis Keyes, is that you?”

Alexis nodded. “Hi, Mr. Smythe. Thanks for having me.”

“You’ve grown up a lot from that smarmy wanderer Ian mooned over at the Academy.” Mr. Smythe laughed, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Beer is fine for me too.”

“Coming right up.” The Smythe father said, making his way back toward the kitchen.

The remaining three retired to the family room with Ian and Alexis sharing the couch and Isaac taking one of the arm chairs. “So dad says you’ve been tied up at work and that’s why you basically dropped off the face of the Earth?” His tone indicated that he wasn’t completely accepting that excuse.

“Well...” Ian started.

“He got transferred.” Alexis broke in. “To Virginia.”

“Yeah.” Ian said, sparing Alexis a glance. “It was pretty chaotic there for a while. I had to find a place, and get all the utilities and such set up. Then there was the actual work I’ve been doing…”

“Yeah, I can understand that.” Isaac nodded.

“Looks like we’re actually out of brew.” Mr. Smythe said, coming in with a pitcher of iced tea in his free hand and a stack of glasses wedged under his arm. He raised an eyebrow at Isaac. “Someone drank it all and didn’t remind me to get more.”

“Sorry about that, dad.” Isaac said, getting up. “Let me help you with that.” He took the glasses from his father and distributed them around the table.

“Don’t let it happen again.” Mr. Smythe said, pouring for everyone. “So, Ian, we didn’t have much time to talk on the phone; what’s been going on in your life, boy?”

“Alexis was just telling me how he got transferred to the east coast.” Isaac said, reclaiming his seat.

“Uh, Mayfield to be specific.” Ian supplied.

“I’m not sure that’s a good enough reason to miss your mother’s day.” The elder Smythe said. “But that’s not between you and me. You’ll explain that to her in person tomorrow.”

Alexis blinked. “I don’t mean to offend, but… I thought Ian’s mother was dead.”

A certain darkness came over Mr. Smythe’s eyes. “Yes, yes she is. Krista will have been gone for six years come tomorrow.”

“I should have explained this to you before we came, Alex.” Ian said, taking her arm lightly. “Tomorrow’s the anniversary of her death. Every year on the 18th of June, we have lunch at her favorite restaurant, and then visit her grave.”

“Dr. Atan.” Brother Wright greeted as he descended the metal stairs into the large, spacious laboratory known as Lab 2700. The place was alive with aides working on Atan’s other projects (or parts of them) in their own designated areas; climbing scaffolds or walking catwalks to service components or make observations.

One huge, plexiglass tank in particular caught his eye as he reached ground level. In it, intermittent arcs of energy flashed through a hazy, grey liquid to strike a minute object he couldn’t quite make out.

“Mr. Wright.” Dr. Atan stood waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. She was tall and built like a sprinter with black hair tied back in a severe braid. Her complexion and visage made certain her middle eastern heritage, but her accent was tinged with Russian if anything.

“Please,” Wright said, flashing her a smile. “Call me Brother.”

“Very well,” Dr. Atan said briskly, “But I ask you not to call me Robin. I try to maintain a certain level of professionalism here at 2700.” She motioned for him to follow her and struck off further into the lab.

“I understand entirely.” Brother nodded sagely. “Speaking of which, I have your check…your research grant. I expect the other materials you required have arrived safely and in a timely manner?”

“They did.” Dr. Atan confirmed. “I’ve turned the learning AI over to our programmers to reconcile it with the chassis control program and the rudimentary behavioral parameters. Luckily, the AI is built on existing software and is capable of using real logic to assimilate our prepared programs.”

“Better than you expected?” Brother asked.

“Better than anyone could expect.” Dr. Atan admitted. “We’re six weeks ahead on production of the prototype. Admittedly, we would be much further ahead if you hadn’t insisted on us using no metal other than this orihalcite material in our construction.” She stopped at a scaffold that supported a man sized mechanoid.

The machine resembled a more robust version of a human skeleton with the ribs fused and interlocking beneath the sternum. Everything was the dull, enamel color of high end ceramic, laced with dark skeins of orihalcite.

“The L-2700 model W-X32 non-intrusive humanoid combat mechanoid.” Dr. Atan introduced the machine. “There is, of course, still some work to be done yet; install the operating system, injection molding of the dermal bonding fluid to simulate skin, etcetera. And there are a few minor flaws—“

“Flaws?” Brother asked, “Dr. Atan, I thought you were an expert in the field of mechanoids and cybernetics. Project Tome sought you highly over this last decade, if I recall.”

“I am.” Dr. Atan said indignantly. “And they don’t have me. You do. But if you want me to get this done, you have to understand some things; namely, that you’ve asked me to deliver a fully functioning robotic warrior that is indistinguishable from a human. It is a miracle that we’ve gotten this far. In general, research and development does not work this way!”

“I can appreciate that, Dr. Atan, but it has thus far.” Brother pointed out. “But perhaps, I’m becoming too enthusiastic. Tell me, what are these flaws you’ve come up against.”

The scientist nodded slowly. “For one thing, the chassis is too light. This is due to the use of ceramic, which, while stronger, is significantly less dense than human bone. Even the orihalcite lacing and components haven’t made up for this.”

“Forgive me, Doctor, but isn’t that a good thing?” Wright asked. “Engineers and technicians strive for lighter, more fuel efficient designs.”

“Normally, yes.” Dr. Atan agreed, “But your request was that this unit be indistinguishable from a normal human.”

“I don’t expect anyone to be picking him up.” Wright pointed out.

“But with traditional locomotive commands, it will be markedly lighter on its feet than a person. Human beings are far more perceptive than we get credit for, Mr… Brother. This is especially true when dealing with the uncanny valley.”

“Then he’ll pass as a psionic instead.” Wright said, “What else.”

“The sensor array.” Dr. Atan said, gesturing at the machine. “You wanted at directional theta wave sensor as part of the suite, but frankly it drains far too much power to keep it active at the same time as the standing field generator that protects the unit from EMP or unexpected fluid breeches. We simply don’t have room for more capacitors.”

“Then give him a standing priority only to bring that sensor online when asked to.” Wright said. “Dr. Atan, if these at the most grievous flaws in the unit, I don’t see any reason to address them before we activate. How soon can you add that injection mold… dermal… stuff?”

“It can be done overnight, if necessary.” Dr. Atan said with a frustrated sigh.

“Excellent.” Wright said, stepping closer to the machine. “Hmm… you truly are a work of art aren’t you, my mechanical friend? A triumph of multiple fields brought together. I think I’ll call you Leonardo.”

-- • --

It had started raining shortly after the group had left the restaurant. Sharing the back seat of Isaac’s sedan with Ian, Alexis frowned when she noticed the precipitation. “I don’t remember the forecast calling for rain today.”

“Probably just a freak downpour.” Isaac said from the driver’s seat. “It’ll probably be over before we reach the church.”

“Or maybe it won’t.” Alexis said, watching the dark clouds rolling in. “Do you have umbrellas?”

Mr. Smythe, in the passenger’s seat, scoffed. “Don’t worry, Alexis, my boys can deal with that. You’ll be perfectly dry.”

“We can?” Ian asked, “deal with the rain, I mean?”

Isaac snorted. “You mean you can’t? What, your job didn’t leave you time to exercise your power either?” He shook his head. “I told you that whole Academy business was useless. I’ve learned more on my own then he did in four years; and I’m still learning.”

“That’s not true.” Alexis said sternly, using her ‘angry teacher’ tone. “Ian’s developed his powers quite a bit, especially in the last year. He’s become very good at sustained updrafts and isolating his winds, for example.”

“All big and uncontrolled.” Isaac said, pulling into the church lot. “Listen, little bro, you need to work on fine tuning if you’re going to get anything done.”

Ian quietly fumed. He’d flown, he’d gone toe to toe with a demon and strengthened his ability greatly. Of course, he couldn’t explain all of that just yet, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

“Isaac, enough.” Mr. Smythe said sternly. “Leave your brother alone. Especially here. I’m not about to have you boys behaving like gibbons on holy ground. You two may have powers, but you’ll never be too big for me to put you both in your place, you understand.”

Isaac put the car in park. “Yes sir.” He said, deflated.

“Good.” The Smythe father declared. “I think maybe its best you not use that power at all if you’re just going to use it to put your brother down.” He turned around in the seat to Alexis. “If you don’t mind getting wet, of course.”

Alexis gave Ian a sidelong glance. He seemed to have enjoyed his brother’s upbraiding immensely. “No problem at all, Mr. Smythe. You remember my black heat? I’ve gotten pretty good at it; I can dry off with it when the time comes.”

“Great.” Mr. Smythe gave her a friendly smile. “Now, my dear, if you’ll be so kind as to escort this old man while his sons bring the flowers up?”

“I’d be happy to.” Alexis said, opening her door. It was raining rather hard and by the time she’d opened the front door to help Ian’s father, her hair was plastered to her head.

Ian and Isaac exited the car on the other side and watched Alexis help their father (who was clearly exaggerating his limp at that point) to the cemetery gates. “Looks like dad’s taking advantage of your girlfriend’s hospitality.” Isaac mused, popping the trunk.

“Manners, manners, manners with him all the time.” Ian chuckled, “at least until there’s a pretty woman around. Then it’s ‘dirty old man mode enabled’.” He lifted the trunk fully open.

“You know, I wasn’t really trying to put you down, right?” Isaac asked. He glared at Ian’s silence. “Goddamn it Ian, it’s just that… this… gift. It’s something mom gave us. You know that. And we should be making the most of it, you know?”

“Isaac, you won’t believe me, but I have been working on it. Everything Alexis said is true. My power just isn’t like yours is the thing. I can’t stop the rain; you can’t lift more than a few pounds. It’s a tradeoff.” Ian took one bundle of lilacs and handed Isaac the other. They had been their mother’s favorite.

“You’re probably right.” Isaac admitted. “I mean mom could just make water bead and little breezes.” He sighed at the thought as he pulled the trunk shut. “But our powers are close to the same right? Except you’re raw power and I’m fine control?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, but yeah.”

“Then maybe you can do this too.” Shifting the flowers to one arm, Isaac collected rain in his palm. “First, you trap a bubble of air by upping both its density and the density of the water around it.” A globe of water formed in his palm with a tiny air bubble inside.

Ian leaned closer for a better look.

“Now, you increase the water’s density as far as you can…” a strain came into Isaac’s voice. “And at the same time, start pulsing the bubble’s density up and down—as fast as you can manage.” Beads of sweat mixed with the rain falling on Isaac. Inside the water-sphere, a tiny light awoke.

“Whoa.” Ian breathed.

“Yeah.” Isaac nodded, “Just remember to let it go really slowly or that little dot of light? It’ll burn the air into a fireball about as big as your head.”

“You lost your eyebrows when you found that out, didn’t you?” Ian asked.

“No, my kitchen table. I did it in a glass and the reaction melted the glass and turned the table to ash. My insurance adjuster was not amused.”

“I’ll have to remember to try that sometime.” Ian noted. The brothers began to walk toward the gates.

A few minutes later found them trudging up to Alexis and their father as they stood before the double headstone that would one day also hold their father’s name as well. “You two took your time getting here.” The man himself said.

“We had to have a talk.” Ian said. “Brother to brother.”

“A friendly talk I hope.” Mr. Smythe eyed the two of them.

“Definitely.” Isaac said as both brothers set down their flowers on the grave.

“Good.” Their father smiled. Then he gestured toward the headstone. “Ian, you’ve been gone longer than us. You have the most to say, I assume.” Ian nodded and silently started forward. Alexis took a step to come up beside him, but Mr. Smythe, moving away, gently took her arm. “I’m sure he’s very thankful for you being beside him through this, but this is private; between him and his mother, you see.”

The full meaning behind the Smythes’ yearly ritual finally dawned on her. She simply nodded and stood back with the others. Standing with the others, she watched Ian kneel in the wet grass and was reminded of her own family.

The Keyes family was skittish about death at best. Any honoring of loved ones’ memories was done in private and at home. The only members one would catch in a cemetery were already dead. But the closeness of parents and siblings definitely struck a chord with her. She had her sister, both parents and her grandmother; all of whom she was as close to as Ian was to his brother and father.

Did she ever seriously consider the possibility of never seeing them again? Even if it was for their protection? As much as she tried to convince herself that she could make that sacrifice, she knew she couldn’t anymore than Ian could have stayed away from this place.

With the cool rain washing over her, she made a decision. The only question was when she’d ever manage to act on it.

Meanwhile, Ian closed his eyes tightly for a moment, trying to find the right words. Eyes still closed, he spoke. In the half decade he’d been coming to this place, he’d always kept his eyes closed. He didn’t know why, he just did.

“I-I’m sorry I wasn’t here last year.” He began. “But I know you’d understand if you knew why. Maybe you do. Maybe you’ve been watching this entire time and maybe you’ve kept me from getting killed. In fact, I hope you are; it’d make me feel a lot better.”

The cold rain made him shiver. “But I’m here now and… and I don’t know how you felt about me going into engineering. I hope it didn’t disappoint you, but I was good at it. I liked it. But not as much as I like what I do now. And it isn’t just for you. I know you’d hate to see either of us doing something just to make you happy.”

He shifted a little on his knee and got into a more comfortable position. “Maybe you saw it, maybe you didn’t, but the Enforcers didn’t turn out to be the heroes imagined. But… I have. And in doing it, I’ve gotten back together with Alexis, I’m helping these great kids use their powers the same way and… and well, I’m happier now than I’ve ever been before.”

“I swear to you, I’d tell you this even if you were still around, even if I’m not sure of telling dad or Isaac, I’ll tell you, mom. I’m Chaos and that’s who I want to be. For good.”

Two eyes opened. They didn’t switch on as they had in the past; rather, they had already been active, but were suddenly uncovered as the protective coverings were drawn away from them. Six seconds remained before those coverings would raise and lower again over the span of milliseconds.

It was oriented horizontally; face down following last minute maintenance on its relays. It used its arms to push off from the table and move to a sitting position.

The environment it found itself in was a familiar one, the factory floor of Lab 2700. It identified three humans standing in proximity to it, watching it. After a moment, it deduced that it was expected to report its status.

“This unit is operational and ready for deployment.” Its fist words came out in a rich bass. “This unit requires designation and mission parameters.”

“You are… designated, Leonardo or Leo for short.” One of the humans said.

Voice print and facial recognition confirmed the human to be Brother Wright, who was 0-tier in its operational hierarchy; someone who had total administrative control over all but its core functions. Further database queries identified Dr. Robin Atan and one of two facial structures designated for LaTonya Wilkins, also designated Shine.

“Dual designations confirmed.” Leonardo declared. “This unit is designated as both Leonardo and Leo.”

“Does he have to do the ‘this unit’ part each time?” Wright asked Dr. Atan. “I mean really, it’s unnerving.”

“Until we have more time to work on the programming, yes.” The technician said wearily.

“Leo.” Shine said quickly.

“This unit is awaiting your orders.” The machine replied.

“Whenever you would normally say ‘this unit’ out loud, say ‘I’ instead.”

“Affirmative.” Leonardo confirmed. “I will search/replace that string during all further audible communications.”

Shine leered at the scientist. “Was that so hard?”

“It’s inefficient.” Dr. Atan shot back. “He’ll be running a replace routine every time he speaks now.”

“And that takes, what, a nanosecond?”

“A picosecond, actually, but that isn’t the point.”

“Is that bigger or smaller?” Wright asked.

“Smaller.” Shine said, casting another mocking look at Dr. Atan.

“The point is that this machine is sensitive to such abuses of his code by you two. Other people can’t really order him to alter his routines like that, but you can and you can very easily cause damage to his programming.”

“Oh come on, we can’t really do that much damage.” She looked at Leonardo. “Can we, Leo.”

The pertinent information required logical processing, which looked for all the world like blank staring until the mechanoid spoke. “As administrative level priorities, you have verbal control of all of I’s programming, making damaging alterations possible and in the case of untrained users, likely.”

Wright and Shine exchanged glances. “I suppose we’ll need to train in his operation a bit then…” Wright said.

“Did he just say ‘I’s’?” Shine asked.

“He did.” Dr. Atan nodded. “You told him to replace ‘this unit’ with ‘I’. So he replaced that string when he was going to say ‘this unit’s’. Now do you understand just how syntax sensitive he is?”

“A literal genie.” Shine groaned. “We’re going to have to spend weeks training him not to screw up basic figures of speech now, aren’t we? That’s just great.”

“Come now, Shine.” Wright grinned. “You’re looking at this as a glass is half empty moment, but it isn’t. No, we have a powerful ally here, with a mind that is ours to mold in our image.” He gave her a sly smile. “Think of him as our first child.” His attention to Leonardo. “Happy Birthday, my boy.”

End Issue #23