Pancake batter hit the hot surface of a skillet and sizzled, starting the transition from inedible goop to pancake. Its predecessors were already being slid onto a plate by a spatula wielding Ian Smythe.

Beside him, his long time friend and recent inamorata, Alexis Keyes, was pulling double duty with a pan of sizzling bacon and sausage and another into which she was cracking eggs. It was her turn to cook, but unlike the rest of Freeland House’s residents, she always had a volunteer assistant chef.

“So Kareem, how do you want your eggs?” She asked.

Kareem Utt was sitting at the table, along with Warrick Kaine, Cynthia McAllister, and Melissa Forrester, three other who also called the former bed and breakfast, Freeland House, home. At the opposite counter stood Laurel Brant, Alexis and Ian’s best friend, typing on her computer.

“Just fried today, thank you.” Kareem replied. The preferential treatment on the subject of eggs was understandable; Kareem had only recently been able to partake in meals, having spent more than a year existing on a separate plane of existence and everyone involved was doing what they could to get him back in the practice of experiencing the material plane once more.

“You got it.” Alexis deftly cracked two eggs with one hand into the skillet. As soon as they hit the pan, she shifted her attention to transferring the bacon and sausage from pan to plate. In doing so, she noticed Cyn starting to doze sitting up. “Cyn, wake up.” She said gently but firmly. “You’re about to go face first on the table.”

“Monday…” Cyn grumbled. She was still in her pajamas and determined to squeeze the most sleep out of the morning possible.

“No it’s not.” Warrick poked her in the shoulder, causing her to start awake. “It’s Friday.”

“Thank god. I slept through the rest of the week.” Cyn mumbled, trying to shift back into a comfortable sleeping position.

“Good morning!” Juniper Taylor appeared at the kitchen door, bright eyed and proverbially bushy tailed. Her hair was still wet from the shower.

“Go to bed.” Cyn ordered, fidgeting in her chair and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Morning, Jun.” Ian said, brandishing his spatula. “How many pancakes?”

“None, actually, I’m picking Adel up and we’re going to breakfast.” Juniper looked apologetic. “Thank you so much though.” She smiled at everyone at the table.

“Hold on a minute, Juniper.” Laurel said, abandoning her work to help Alexis put plates on the table. A tall stack with a triple helping of everything was set before Cyn, having the same effect on her as a kiss from Prince Charming. “I wanted to ask, since we’re all here; who’s going out on patrol with me tonight.”

“Not us.” Ian flipped the last pancake onto his own plate. “Tonight, as it ever is and ever shall be as long as there is right in the world is date night.” He shot a smile at Alexis.

She nodded, “Yeah, and Mr. Liedecker got us tickets to The King and I tonight.”

“You’re going to a musical?” Melissa asked Ian with an incredulous edge to her voice as she accepted her plate from Laurel.

“Why does everyone assume that I don’t have any culture?” Ian acted hurt.

“Well you had a belching contest with Cyn yesterday.” Laurel took her seat that the head of the table.

“To be fair to him, I won.” Cyn was rapidly clearing her plate.

“She did.” Ian nodded. “Anyway, I figure the most respected man in town had tickets, so it can’t be a bad thing to go have a look-see.”

“If it’s so good, why did he give the tickets away?” Cyn asked.

Laurel cracked a smile. “Okay, so Ian and Alexis are out. Warrick?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, but with all her homework and studying, Fridays are the only days I can convince Tink to go out for more than an hour. We’re gonna rent some movies and hang out at her place.”

“No need to be sorry, Warrick. There’s not reason being a prelate needs to ruin your social life.” Laurel assured him. She took a long drink of her coffee before asking, “Cyn?”

“No social life here ma’am.” The white haired girl saluted. “At least not today. All the happy couples are dating and Kay is visiting her mom this weekend.”

“I’m one of the happy couples.” Juniper said shyly. “Adel’s brother has a football game and we’re going to go cheer him on.”

“I’m in though.” Melissa said. Everyone paused at this. Melissa never volunteered for anything regarding super-heroics. She knew it too and blushed, “I just thought I need the exercise.”

Laurel regarded her with a mixture of surprise and pride. “Great. It’ll be good to have you along, especially if we run into anyone who's injured. Well that’s settled—“

“Actually, Ms. Brant.” Kareem interrupted, “I beg your pardon, but I think maybe it is time that I started patrolling again.”

Following his traumatic return to the world, Laurel had insisted Kareem take it easy until the repercussions were thoroughly investigated.

And there had been repercussions. While Kareem was once more able to astral project at will as he had been before his time in stasis, his ability to manipulate the Astral matter had become significantly limited in scope. At the same time, his mental senses had become heightened, the extent of which they hadn’t established.

“I understand,” He continued, “That we have yet to complete mapping my abilities, but could we not do so in the field? Both you and Ms. Keyes emphasize that necessity is the mother of invention when it comes to our powers.”

Faced with that logic, there was little Laurel could argue with. Still, she didn’t want him to feel obligated so soon after returning to the material world. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spend time with Desiree tonight?” Desiree was the name of a psionic girl Kareem had befriended at school. The two seemed to have connected almost instantly.

“Yeah, you could double with us.” Juniper offered.

“Or us.” Warrick added jovially. Though the girl was odd, the few times he’d met her had been enjoyable.

Kareem shook his head. “She will be out of town starting tonight. It seems she travels with her father on business on the weekends. In any event, I am eager to resume my role as Ephemeral in contributing to Mayfield’s safety.”

“Ew.” Cyn said, sneaking a strip of bacon off Warrick’s plate. “Who would spend all that time with their dad?”

“Not everyone’s family’s like yours.” Melissa pointed out.

That earned her a glare. Family was not a subject to be spoken of lightly with Cyn. “This is my family.” She said levelly.

Melissa gestured at Laurel. “Then you’re spending Friday night with Mom.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Laurel couldn’t help but chuckle at this, “I’m too young to be anyone’s mom, thank you very much. In any event, we’ll be glad to have you Kareem. I was asking because the MPD have given us something to look out for on patrol tonight.”

“Was there a threat made?” Alexis asked. If it were so, no one in the room doubted that she and Ian would drop everything to help deal with it, however grudgingly they may make it seem.

Laurel shook her head. “No, but it seems we’ve got a new cat burglar in town. A psionic who calls himself Abscondro.”

“That is like the best name ever.” Cyn laughed. “’Prepare to have your valuables absconded with, citizens!’” She said in a voice too deep to have come from her, “’So says Abscondro!’”

“Believe it or not, that’s what this guy’s MO sounds like.” Laurel shrugged. “He’s been working the Piedmont region for the past two years; Madison, Ruckersville, Warrenton, Sperryville… there’s a very long list. Last night, he hit three jewelry stores and left a calling card. In it, he announced that he’s decided to make Mayfield his new home.”

“Small town boy makes good in a bad way.” Ian commented, “Sounds like a pompous ass.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Said Laurel. “He also posted his calling card on the PrelateWatch website under the name Vamanos along with a long speech about how great he is.”

“Vamanos…” Warrick mused, “Hey, I know that name, serious mad on for bad guys with psionic powers. He was the one that got all up in arms when we thrashed Maven because he thought her flying rig looked cool on the news.”

“Anyone surprised he follows PrelateWatch enough to know posters by name?” Melissa asked. There was no response. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

“What? It’s important to keep up with the news and that forum sometimes knows about weird goings on before we do.” Warrick defended. “Granted, they don’t know the truth about everything, so some of the theories are… weird.”

“They think I’m an alien.” Cyn supplied.

“I’ll agree it’s a useful information source,” Laurel said, “But I’d never go on just what the forums say. In any event, Vamanos/Abscondro is an attention seeker, which means even though he’s ‘only’ stealing from stores right now, he may try to escalate to get more attention. So we’re going to pay special attention to banks and jewelry stores tonight.”

“You’d think these guys would smarten up and hit some electronics stores or something.” Ian said, “Banks have the best security you can think of. The local ConquestTech or Koshiki outlet? Not so much.”

“That may be the point for Abscondro.” Laurel shook her head. “His calling card sited small town operations no longer being a challenge to him.”

“Of course he’d be one of those.” Alexis groaned. “Well good hunting, I guess. I’ll keep my phone at the ready if you need us.”

“Thanks.” Laurel said, “We’ll keep you posted.”

DeSars Jewelers dealt almost exclusively in diamonds. Not the lab grown, perfect quality diamonds that were by then as common as dirt, but the kind still mined from the earth and marketed as somehow superior for it.

The marketing evidently worked, because DeSars was both able to afford and felt the need to have a made-to-order building designed with maximum security in mind. At night, steel shutters an inch thick slid down to protect the windows and front doors from breakage and bolts thicker than a man’s thumb sealed the steel door in back securely to the reinforced concrete wall. Inside, infrared beams and cameras at all angles swept the room and each case was tied to its own alarm that would trigger if they were opened or broken after hours.

All part of that selfsame marketing, the high level of security at DeSars made frequent appearances in their advertising, implying that unlike other jewelry, DeSars’s diamonds were worth protecting. It was also effective; no DeSars had been robbed after hours in twenty years.

None of it mattered when a man sized blur phased directly through the wall.

Abscondro was covered head to toe in muted gray, a color that blended in with failing light rather than form sharp outlines as black would. A ski mask covered his face and beneath that, he’d daubed charcoal to prevent the cameras from picking up even as basic a description as his race.

What he did want the cameras to see, however, was the black ‘A’ fading from right to left on his chest, his personal sign. It was the only adornment to his work uniform aside from a handyman’s belt with well fitted pouches and compartments for stowing his ill gotten gains.

From one of those compartments, he produced and unfolded a thin visor and placed it over his eyes. Through the specially treated lenses, the world was a foggy red and the infrared beams with a brilliant pink.

From there it was only a matter of timing to sidestep the beams and make his way up front to the display cases. He knew from experience that the truly valuable gems would be in the vault, which would have been child’s play for him to access. But that wasn’t the point.

The displays were prominent and being monitored by multiple cameras. A firm like DeSars, which lived off the reputation of their security would, no doubt keep the reports of a vault theft quiet. But an empty display case… that was the stuff of newspaper spreads.

He came to the central display case where the most flashy and audacious pieces were kept within sight of the entrance. “Multi-thousand dollar impulse buys.” He mused. His left hand blurred and he reached through the glass for an elaborate necklace mounted on a dummy bust. Where his distorted fingers touched it, a similar blurred look expanded to encompass the whole necklace.

There was a sound like water spattering on glass from the front of the store.

Pulling his prize out through the glass, Abscondro rounded on the source. The first thing he noticed was that the glass doors and the steel shutter beyond them quivered ever so slightly in his infrared visor.

The second thing he noticed was the young woman.

Where he dressed out of necessity and an understanding of stealth, she… didn’t. Yellow stockings ran up to a cherry red pleather skirt, which was set off by a yellow, fishnet undershirt and a red baby doll tee featuring a cheap iron-on that said 'VAMANOS!' In yellow bubble text across the chest. She wore a red neckerchief over her mouth with a domino mask of the same color. She made no effort to hide her short, blond hair. It was all capped off by a yellow half cape that had obviously been a pillowcase in another life.

In any other situation, Abscondro would have laughed. However, the utter ridiculousness of the sight was overpowered by the fact that she was just about to step through one of the alarm beams.

-- • --

With no time to do anything else, Abscondro held out a hand. “Stop right there!” He ordered. Much to his shock, she did as he said and the security beam scanned right past her.

“Oh my god, it really is you.” The garishly dressed young woman said in an oddly reverent tone.

“What?” Abscondro wrinkled his brow under his mask, “Who the hell are you? Some prelate wannabe trying to make a name by bringing me in?” He laughed bitterly, “It won’t be that easy.”

“N-no! Of course not!” The girl sounded shocked at the accusation. “Just the opposite, I swear. I’ve been following your career since the Fridley Museum. I-I think you’re amazing, I just wanted to meet you.”

That was a new one for Abscondro. He expected to run into costumed eccentrics at some point in his career, but while he was fully prepared to encounter other criminals and vigilantes, he never dreamed he’d meet a costumed groupie. Especially not a groupie devoted to him. It wasn’t exactly the kind of fame and recognition he was after.

“There is no way you’re serious.” He stepped back against the display case and phased his hand through. No reason to make the whole night a bust just because it hit a rough patch, he reasoned.

“No, I so am!” the woman said earnestly. “I even made my own costume just for this!” She pointed to her chest, “See? I’m Vamanos; I’m kind of your official record keeper over on PrelateWatch. Every job you’ve pulled, I’ve got the full catalog of what was stolen and what your calling-card said.”

“Sounds like you need a hobby, Vamanos.” Abscondro lifted the necklace from its place in the display case and slipped it into his belt pouch.

“But I do. You!” Vamanos exclaimed. Reflecting on this, she bit her knuckle, “Oh… that sounded kind of creepy. But I’m not. I really just wanted to meet you and see you in action.”

Now convinced that no prelate would play themselves as that ditzy, Abscondro turned back to the case and helped himself to an opulent string of pearls. “You’ve met me. This is me in action. You can leave now.”

Still not moving form her place, Vamanos leaned forward to see what he was doing. “But that’s just the theft part. I want to see the daring escape!”

“I don’t do daring escapes. I like to take my time.” Abscondro said, pulling a tray of earrings through the glass. “How did you know where to find me anyway?”

“It’s your MO.” Vamanos shrugged. “You hit a couple of small places in town to get the police and the media’s attention, and then go after the high security places. I’m guessing because they’re a bigger challenge. And DeSars advertises how much of a challenge they would be, so this was the most likely place you’d be.”

Abscondro paused with the tray half inside his pouch. The fact was that Vamanos was right, at least about his pattern, though not his reasons. Challenge was not part of the equation; the fact that the targets were high security just went hand in hand with their high profile nature.

“What makes you think I want a challenge?” He asked, dumping the jewelry into the pouch, “I can walk through walls, why do you think I’d even bother looking for a challenge?”

“You aren’t looking for a challenge?” Vamanos asked in a small voice.

Something in her tone swung his head around and sent a chill up his spine. “No.” He said firmly.

“Oh.” That tone was even stronger in her voice now.

Abscondro’s eyes narrowed behind the mask. “What did you do, Vamos?”

“V-vamanos.” She tried to correct him.

“What. Did. You. Do,” Abscondro replaced the tray and gave one last, longing look at the other lovely gems that would go unfilched.

“I may have hit the silent alarm on the way in.” Vamanos gnawed on her knuckle like a small child awaiting punishment.

As much as Abscondro would have dearly loved to punish her, his fight or flight response had already made the decision the second it heard ‘silent alarm’. Taking time only to make certain that his pouch was closed, he took to his heels, heading for the rear of the shop and calling on his power to phase through the wall.

“Wait, I can help!” Vamanos shouted and struck off after him.

Outside, Facsimile stuck to the shadows in the black, clawed form she hadn’t made use of since she and Alloy had rescued his sister, the Irrepressible Spark from the super villain meeting she’s unwittingly joined.

It wasn’t the most comfortable form she’d come up with, but it was the perfect blend of stealthy and dangerous she felt was called for when going up against a psionic cat burglar.

The others were covering the rest of the building after the patrolling Descendants had come to the DeSar’s building on an educated guess by Codex, which was confirmed by the silent alarm going off before Ephemeral could do the same by sensing the presence of minds in the building. She mused that they would stick out like sore thumbs to the eyes of a man who made a living on not being seen.

Still, she hoped it all start moving quickly. She enjoyed patrolling, loved saving people from accidents and burning buildings, and lived for a good, old fashioned fight, but the waiting killed her.

As it so happened, there was very little waiting involved. Abscondro emerged from the back wall of the building not five yards from her, regaining his solidity the moment he was completely out of the wall.

“Got him.” Facsimile said into her com even as she detached from the shadows.

“No you don’t!” A yellow and red blur blew past Abscondro from around the corner and slammed into her. The force was like being hit by a car and sent Facsimile tumbling along the pavement in the wide alley between DeSars and the other buildings on its block.

Before she could recover, the blur streaked into her again, this time lifting her off her feet and slamming her into a streetlight. When the stars cleared, she finally saw her assailant standing in the alley.

“Vamanos?” Facsimile read the bubble letters across the other woman’s chest. “They’re two different people?”

“Just stay away from him.” Vamanos ordered, sounding unsure of herself. “Whatever you are…”

Letting loose with a low groan and thanking her lucky stars she hadn’t hit any live wires on her trip into the light pole, Facsimile extricated herself from her position and took the more familiar golden form the people of Mayfield knew and loved as Facsimile. “'What I am is you local superhero. And that guy is a local crook. So if you think you’re helping, you’re not.”

“I know who he is.” Vamanos replied, “And that why I can’t let you get to him.”

As all this was happening, Abscondro was making his way down the alley, around to the other entrance. Unfortunately for him, he was cut off by Codex, Ephemeral and Hope. This night was swiftly going south for him. He turned back, deciding to run through the wall on the other side.

Facsimile laughed. “Looks like both you and your boyfriend are going to jail now, speed freak.”

Glancing back at Abscondro, Vamanos made a quick calculation before turning back to Facsimile. “I don’t think so. Mr. Abscondro… Let’s go!”

If the proclamation took Abscondro by surprise, it had nothing on the sudden shock he received when Vamanos caught him by the arm and suddenly accelerated him to match her. All he could do was let out a shout of protest as Vamanos caught the wall opposite him with her heel and ran up it.

Codex and the others met Facsimile in the alley. “He didn’t sound happy with that.” Hope noted.

“Could it be that our cat burglar has been kidnapped?” Ephemeral asked.

“We’ll have to sort it out as we go.” Codex was already heading back up the alley to where her SUV was parked. “Facsimile, see if you can track them from the air. Everyone else, we’ll follow in the car.”

“Already on it.” Facsimile threw herself into the air. Something was bothering her about her run-in with Vamanos. “I know that voice from somewhere… I know that hair from somewhere…” Once above the roof level, she clicked on her com. “Hey, Codex, do we know any speedsters?”

“The only one I can think of off the top of my head is Tesser of the Kin, but she’s not even on this side of the country.” Codex came back. “I’ll run a search on the old Academy records.”

From above, the city largely fell into neat grid, interrupted by the occasional area where a city planner or architect had tried something cute. Facsimile sharpened her vision for long distance sighting, but came up with nothing.

“That’s not where I know her from though.” She pondered, “Maybe the class list from the Liedecker Institute? One of those kids?” That didn’t sound right either. “Maybe one of their family members?” She amended.

There was a pause as Codex loaded the necessary information. “No one that could be described as a ‘speedster’. At least none whose powers are known.”

That was a fair point, Facsimile considered. Not everyone with psionic powers attended the Academy. In fact not everyone born with psionic powers even knew that they had them.

If they never experienced the emotion or used the muscle action that caused a power to manifest, they would not only fail to see their power in action, but they wouldn’t show up on the theta wave scanners some organizations used.

Top it off with the fact that some psionic abilities manifested in such ways as a heightened immune system or accelerated male pattern baldness, and one could see a psionic every day of their life and never know it.

Having come to this conclusion sparked something in Facsimile’s mind. Just because she recognized Vamanos didn’t mean she knew her in the context of her powers. She could have recently acquired them, hid them in her day to day life, or any of a dozen other things. With the possibility of her powers being magical and things became even more abstract.

But she had recognized the voice and the hair. But from where?

Facsimile could see that blond hair being flipped. She could hear the tone in the ‘whatever you are’ applied to other insults. She forced herself to focus on that even as she continued to search the rooftops from the skies. There was little chance of finding them that way, Vamanos could move with a serious quickness and could have been a mile or more away in that time.

She stopped and decided to focus on that voice.

When she and the others had taken up secret identities, they had consciously made sure to disguise their voices as well as their faces on what they considered then the off chance of having to be in their heroic identities while near people that knew them personally.

As it turned out, they spent a lot of time in their Descendants guise around people that knew them while, so it had been a good decision. This never occurred to Vamanos. Facsimile replayed that voice in her mind.

‘Whatever you are’. The tone it carried as one Facsimile naturally identified with Lily Goldenmeyer, but the hair and complexion were definitely not Lily’s…

The answer hit her in a flash of chorused, mocking laughter and the identical outfits Lily’s cadre of friends had worn throughout junior year. That annoying, cutesy voice from the past, the same one that came from Vamanos’s mouth said, ‘Whatever you’re trying to do with your hair? It’s not working, Snow White’.

Facsimile’s eyes narrowed. Too bad, she was one of the least annoying of Lily’s posse.

“Codex?” She called into the com. “I’ve got a name to follow up on. Can you get me the address and a flight path to Callie Krieger?”

The next thing Abscondro knew, his momentum was lost and he came to a sudden stop in the form of toppling onto a bed, scattering a small flock of stuffed ducks in the process.

“Sorry.” Vamanos apologized, reaching down to help him up, “But I had to get you away from the Descendants somehow.” When she had him up in a sitting position, she had a sudden revelation. “Oh my god, I have Abscondro in my room!”

Abscondro bit back an angry retort to this. Sure, he could have gotten away on his own, but Vamanos had not only gotten him away from his pursuers but, assuming that sensation of experiencing a blue shift was any indicator, she had gotten him quite far away from them. Instead, he silently got his bearings.

The room was small and cramped with the bed dominating most of the space. A computer, the cheap ‘net gateway type one could get in any retail outlet, sat atop a trunk serving double duty as a desk at the foot of the bed. A bookcase, filled with airport romance and science fiction took up the wall next to the window sporting a scenic view (from seventy or so stories up) of a nondescript street. The rest of the walls were virtually wallpapered with posters including, most prominently, a homemade, laminated depiction of the symbol he wore on his chest and put on his calling cards.

“Your room.” Abscondro deadpanned.

Vamanos sat at the foot of the bed and started typing furiously on her computer. “Yep. It’s not much, but it’s cozy.” She lowered her voice, “But we have to keep quiet or my family will think I have a boy in here.”

Technically, Abscondro thought, she has a man in here. What he said however was, “Why am I in your room? Why come here when you’re on the run from prelates?”

“Don’t worry.” Vamanos giggled, “I could have got us anywhere in the city before getting tired, but I thought this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Abscondro cast a nervous glance down at the bed and the toppled herd of stuffed ducks. He didn’t like where this was going. Feeling he was going to regret asking, he did so anyway. “Opportunity for what?”

Vamanos held up a finger to tell him to wait, clicking icon after icon as she went through what seemed to be endless layers of security she put on a single file on her system. “For this.” She finally declared, moving aside so Abscondro could see.

It was a wireframe mock-up of the Westinghall Building.

“Okay.” Abscondro said, unmoved.

“That’s right; you’re from out of town.” Vamanos recalled. “See, the Westinghall Building has a museum on the third floor. There’s a guy here named Liedecker who’s basically stocked the place with stuff he or his own people found or bought. All so the people of Mayfield can go see them.”

“I’m not interested in going sightseeing.” Abscondro replied.

“Right.” Vamanos nodded, unperturbed, “But I’m sure you’ll be interested in this; one of the things on display? The Bahia Emerald, one of the biggest emeralds in the world. It's worth half a billion and kept under guard so heavy no one has even tried to steal it.”

Abscondro stared at the screen for a full minute of silence. As much as he hated to admit it, Vamanos was right and he was interested.

-- • --

Teresa Krieger’s brief respite, the scant hour she had between her day shift selling cell phones at an outlet mall and her night shift at the Jiffy-Mart down the street, was interrupted by polite, but insistent knocking on the door to the apartment she shared with her husband and three children.

“Coming.” She shouted, trying to arrange her hair into something passable before muting the television. The knocking paused then continued. It sent her imagination down frightening paths. Her husband was a highway patrolman and it was one of her greatest fears that someone would appear at her door with grave news. Her fear getting the better of her, she skipped further attempts at looking presentable and practically ran to the door.

All of her worries and stress hadn’t even begun to prepare her for the trio standing in the hallway when she opened the door; Codex, Hope and Ephemeral of the Descendants. If anything, their presence drove her apprehension to a new high. “You…” She said before she could catch herself. “I-I mean, yes? Is something the matter?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know yet, Mrs. Krieger.” Codex kept her voice gentle; there was no need to panic the woman, especially working only of Facsimile’s memory for voices. “Do you know where your daughter is?”

“S-Sonja?” the harried mother asked. The image of her oldest, away in Pennsylvania attending college rose up in her mind. “Oh my god, what happened?” her eyes burned at just the thought.

“Nothing, Mrs. Krieger.” Codex said, trying to be soothing. “I’m asking after your other daughter, Callie. We have reason to believe she’s fallen in with a bad element.”

As swiftly as fear had overcome her, Teresa was swept up in indignation. “Callie? A bad element?” She almost felt like laughing, but even if they were making a mistake, she respected Mayfield’s heroes. “No, not a chance. When she’s not out with her cheerleader friends, she locks herself up in her room.” She waved a hand vaguely, “Even when I have time to cook for her, she’d rather eat the junk food she keeps in there. I can’t even get her to look after her little brother. There’s no way she can be into anything bad.”

“We often don’t notice a lot of things about our kids until something big happens, Mrs. Krieger.” Codex replied, “Please, I know it sounds unlikely, but we have reason to believe—“

“Not my girl.” Teresa cut in. “I know, you could say that we work a lot and maybe we’re not with her enough, but I’ve done my best to teach her not to get involved in drugs or gangs. And my girl wouldn’t be involved in that.”

Gangs weren’t the question, Codex thought, but maybe a single bad influence, possibly one she met up with on the internet; that was a possibility. “Do the names Vamanos or Abscondro mean anything to you, Mrs. Krieger?”

A flash of recognition came across Mrs. Krieger’s face and fled so quickly that only Codex noticed it at all. “No, no, I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Krieger.” From her belt, Codex produced a disposable cell phone; little more than a plastic card with raised blisters for buttons and a stylized, red ‘D’ in place of a traditional screen. “If you think of anything we should know, or if you and your family have any trouble, press and hold the 3 button and you’ll be linked to us through a secure system.”

Teresa stared at the device, unsure what to make of the offer. “T-thank you.”

Codex nodded. “Good night, Mrs. Krieger. Give our best to your family.”

Once the door was closed and the three were on their way back to the elevator, Hope frowned. “That was no help.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Codex replied, closing the pocket on her belt that held more of the specially printed cell phones. “She recognized Vamanos, and knew enough to know at was Spanish, even if she said she didn’t.” She inclined her head to Ephemeral, “Pick up anything else?”

Ephemeral nodded. “I had to limit myself to her surface thoughts because I did not want her to detect me.” He said, “But she most certainly identifies ‘Vamanos’ with her daughter. I find it interesting though; she has no recognition of Abscondro. Nor does she have any memory of the costume Vamanos wore tonight. She does not know that Vamanos is a costumed identity.”

“It’s probably her screen name.” Hope interjected. “Meaning she’s the one that talks Abscondro up on PrelateWatch.”

“Could the two be in an online relationship?” Kareem asked.

“I thought of that.” Codex agreed.

“And that’s what you sent Alloy and Facsimile to do.” Hope guessed. “You really do think of everything. We were just a distraction.”

Sixty-seven stories up, Alloy’s shoulders felt like they were separating. Facsimile, sporting two extra arms, was holding up by his arms while in her golden angel form, her two extra appendages gripping the ledge of Callie’s window with hooked claws and her feet doing the same to the top of the window below.

Isp and Osp snaked from Alloy’s shoulders and into a thin space between window and the sash. Inside, they had split their liquid orihalcite bodies into tendrils to better operate the computer.

“Tink would be so jealous if she knew about this.” Facsimile said in Alloy’s ear. He had shucked his armor but for a chain shirt and helmet and she made a point to make him uncomfortable by pressing closer to his back than was strictly necessary.

“Yeah, probably.” He tried to sound dismissive while being thankful for his helm hiding his blush. “Luckily we’re almost done. I’d hate for someone to spot us.”

Facsimile cackled at his awkwardness, but took enough pity on him to change the conversation. “So Isp and Osp are good with computers.” She said nonchalantly.

“Uh-huh.”

“But you’re not good with computers.”

“Yeah.”

“Your powers are so weird.”

“And you’re currently gold, four armed, and hanging from a sheer wall carrying a man.” He pointed out.

“That’s just normal shape-shifting.” She defended. “But really; how did the boys learn this stuff?”

“I have no idea. I think they taught themselves. Sometimes I don’t unsummon them when I got to bed and when I wake up, my computer’s on. They surf the net too.”

“I’m so scared to ask what they look at.”

“Same here. I just clear the history without looking. But one time, there was a monster truck site open.”

“Aw, our little boys are growing up.” Facsimile cooed.

“Ew. Okay, here we go.” He turned his head as if listening to something distant. “More ew.” He finally said.

“What?” Facsimile asked.

“Vamanos isn’t working with Abscondro. They’ve never talked—no voice chats, no instant messages, and no emails; nothing.”

“I’m not getting the ‘ew’.”

“I’m getting to that.” Alloy said. “They searched her history for ‘Abscondro’. Besides PrelateWatch, she’s also on Super-Talk, maintains the Abscondro entry on Factopia, has a page dedicated to him on All Fan Clubs, and get this: She’s written ten fan fictions about him pulling off heists.”

“Okay, feeling the ‘ew’.” Facsimile said.

“Uh-oh.”

“Please don’t tell me they found an X-rated one.”

“Worse… or not.” Alloy corrected himself quickly. “The boys gave them a once over and one of the first ones she wrote was about stealing a big emerald from the Westinghall Building. She’s got a wireframe of the place from City Central on her computer too; it was just accessed ten minutes ago.”

“That’s it then. She’s kidnapped our baddy to make him act out her fan fiction.” Facsimile frowned as Alloy recalled Isp and Osp. “Man, we’ve fought demon monkeys, ghosts and a dude with god powers and this is weird even for me.”

She pushed off the wall as soon as Isp and Osp were clear of the window. For a brief second, they were freefalling between the twin apartment buildings, but then she snapped open her wings and they sailed out over the city.

“I can’t argue.” Alloy said. “I’ll call Codex.”

After another high speed, stomach churning jaunt across Mayfield, Abscondro found himself catching his breath in an alley within line of sight of the Westinghall Building.

The girl, Vamanos, was standing at the mouth of the alley with stars in her eyes as she watched the Westinghall Building. She didn’t even look mildly winded from the subsonic speeds she achieved.

He figured it was part of her psionic powers; likely the same power that protected her from collisions by phasing her through them and kept Abscondro himself from being abraded by the wind when she dragged him around. Whatever it was, it did nothing to stop him from losing his breath when she grabbed and accelerated him without warning.

“You ready?” She asked turning back to him. There was something in her gaze that Abscondro thought he probably got in his own when he was a particularly prime target for theft. He didn’t like having that gaze turned on him.

“Yeah.” He said simply. He didn’t want her getting any impression that he in any way enjoyed being dragged along like one of her stuffed ducks. That wasn’t worth even the mammoth score and accompanying wellspring of fame she was offering. “Third floor, right?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Right. So, I was thinking; we can run in through the sewers and then like, rise up through the floor right in the middle of the wing! It’d be really neat and everyone will be so impressed!”

Abscondro gave her a level look. It didn’t dull her spirit, but it made her quiet down. “No, we take the stairs.”

“What? Why? That’s so… normal.”

“Because contrary to what you may think, my power doesn’t work like that. I can’t float or fly, so I can’t just ‘rise’ up out of the ground.”

“Really?” Vamanos blinked, “Because I sort of figured you’d have to so you can phase and not fall through the ground; just like how I have to be tougher than normal to run as fast as I do.”

She doesn’t even know the half of it, Abscondro thought mournfully. He was being bulldogged into working with someone who didn’t even know how their powers worked.

“No, I don’t fly. I just keep my feet un-phased until I have to move them through.” He finally said.

She looked profoundly disappointed with this. “There’s got to be some other way to do this.” She says. “Using the stairs is so… normal.”

“Sometimes normal is the best way.” Abscondro shrugged. He didn’t give a damn about her ideals of how he did things; he wasn’t going to make anymore of a fool of himself then she’d already done to him. He just wanted the night to be over and to pull off this too-good-to-pass-up opportunity.

“No it’s not.” Vamanos scowled. “No one cares if you’re normal, even if you’re something they say is special. You’re just one of a group; middle kid, bottom of the pyramid, C-student—“

“I’m sure any and all of those problems can be solved by throwing some of the money made off this at them.” Abscondro cut her off. “Money we’re not going to get if you stand here whining instead of running us across the plaza and into the lobby, got it?”

“Won’t there be guards in the lobby?”

“Do to them what you did to Golden Girl back at DeSars.”

“But Facsimile has powers—she can take it. I could kill a normal human ramming into them like that.”

Abscondro did the worst thing to Vamanos that she could imagine: he gave her a disappointed look. “Then I guess we can scrub this whole thing then, can’t we?” He asked, “Because there’s going to be guards, and with a place this rich, the cops would be all over us within a minute if they hit the silents.”

The threat of having her dream of working hand in hand with Abscondro stabbed into Vamanos like a burning knife. She reasoned that she could just knock the guards out; that she was good enough and fast enough with her powers to do it.

Driving down her doubts, she extended her hand to Abscondro and ducked her head. “Let’s go.”

-- • --

Hank Redding sat his freshly brewed cup of coffee down beside his palmtop computer atop the security desk inside the main lobby of the Westinghall Building and did a quick inventory. He had his coffee, a bag of cookies from the vending machine by the elevators, palmtop (displaying the Mayfield Scribe’s sports page), and a book of crossword puzzles for later.

In many ways, he considered working security to be the perfect job. He was a night owl by nature anyway, and aside from the other guards checking in on the hour, it was almost eight straight hours of nothing but peace and quiet. In four years, the absolute worst that happened was the occasional group of college kids deciding to party in the big fountain out front.

With a contented sigh that all was right in his little corner of the universe, Hank sat down to his sports page. At least he tried to. There was a noise from the direction of the door and suddenly his vision blurred. The next thing he knew, he was in darkness, stumbling on uneven footing.

Lashing out for something to hold on to, his hand caught something. A metal cable? He grabbed it with the other hand and confirmed that yes; he had indeed grabbed hold of a steel cable. His elbow brushed against another.

“Where the hell am I?” He shouted, hoping someone would offer an explanation. The answer came in the form of the same noise he’d heard just before he’d found himself in that strange place. Something slammed into his back with a surprised grunt.

“Sorry!” A girl’s voice said, accompanied by the noise again. It sounded like water splashing.

“What the hell just happened?” Another voice asked.

He recognized the voice; it was one of his fellow security guards. “Milo?”

“Hank? What’s the hell was that? Where are we?”

“I put three in the air vents and two on top of the elevator.” Vamanos reported, coming to a stop in front of Abscondro with a nervous little salute. “That should give us plenty of time to get the emerald.”

“Did you take their coms?” Abscondro asked, heading for the stairs.

“Their what?”

“Communicators. So they can’t call anyone.” Abscondro replied.

“Well… n-no, not as such.” Vamanos replied, chagrined, “Was I supposed to?”

“Yes!” Abscondro forced his voice into a hiss. Even with the security guards away, the building itself likely still had sensors. “Now they know something's up and they’ll call the cops. You haven’t bought us any time at all. Why didn’t you bull rush them like I told you too?”

“B-because if I did that, they might get hurt. It’d be like getting hit by a car.”

“What’s a few broken bones on a security guard?” Abscondro asked. His style and powers obviated the need to confront security most of the time, but he never denied himself the option if things came to that. Not that they ever had; he was just that good; but with Vamanos along for it, he didn’t want to take the chance. “That’s what they’re paid for. Now we’ve got to hurry. Run us up to the third floor.” He indicated the stairs.

Vamanos frowned. She wanted to protest, but she wasn’t quite sure why. Clearly, Abscondro was right; that those men would be justly compensated for their injuries if she’d decided to give them any, but she just didn’t want to give them any.

She didn’t want to let down Abscondro either, so instead of voicing her thoughts, she held out her hand. “Let’s go.” She said it more to keep herself from saying something else than anything. In the blink of an eye, they were up the stairs and through the doors of the main gallery.

It was a sight to behold. While many of the exhibits, like the Bahia Emerald, which sat on a glass encased pedestal in the center of the main gallery, were merely acquisitions by the museum, the vast majority of them were actually from Vincent Liedecker’s private collection; obtained in his early years traveling the world.

The whole thing gave Abscondro pause as they stopped just inside the doorway, between twin statues of Athena. Through his visor, he saw that the treasures were only defended by basic pressure plates and sensors. It was a thief’s wildest dream.

“Liedecker must be the stupidest man on Earth.” He said. “All that money and he stores his valuables in plain sight with nothing but a couple of piss-poor guards and dime store security. We can get way more than just the emerald.”

“Then you like it?” Vamanos asked hopefully. “I’ve always imagined you sneaking in here and doing a heist that’d go down in history, like… like… the Baker Street Robbery or Loomis Fargo!”

More than even the spectacular price of the emerald, this stoked the fires in Abscondro’s mind. By virtue of his powers and skill, that was exactly what he deserved; not the adoration of a delusional teenager, but a place in the annals of history; to be known as one of the most famous burglars in history.

While Liedecker wasn’t widely know internationally, the sheer value stolen, one night’s work would make the crown jewels of Ireland look like costume jewelry.

“You do like it… right?” Vamanos chewed her lip at Abscondro’s silence.

“Right.” He said after clearing his head of the cloud of vanity that had descended over him. “Let’s get to work.”

“How about you not?” One of the statues of Athena reached out to wrap her arms around Vamanos from behind, lifting her cleanly off the ground.

Codex, Ephemeral and Hope stepped into the archway to the adjoining gallery. “Welcome to the big city, Abscondro.” Codex said coldly. Beside her, Ephemeral bowed his head in silence as the two women stepped forward.

Hot anger burned in Abscondro’s mind. He hadn’t put up with Vamanos all this time to come away empty handed. Clenching his hand into a fist, he rounded on ‘Athena’, surprising her with a right cross to the jaw.

It was dazing enough that Vamanos managed to get one foot on the floor, which was more than enough to let her take off. In an instant, she and Facsimile were in the middle of the gallery.

Dropping her speed, but denying Facsimile the same courtesy, Vamanos dropped to a knee, allowing the disguised heroine to go flying over her head and into a suit of medieval armor in a glass display case.

The din of the collision gave Abscondro an instant headache, but he kept his wits about him enough to activate his power as Codex reached him and tried to drop him with a single strike to the center with her tonfa.

“Thanks for the welcome.” He sneered, feeling his anger boiling over. Sidestepping so that the tonfa was no longer inside his insubstantial form, he regained solidity long enough to aim a chop at her ribs that she blocked with her other weapon. “And tell Liedecker thanks for the wonderful welcome gifts.”

Avarice and vanity took priority over anger though, so he didn’t take time to press the attack. Instead, he phased through Codex’s arm on the next strike and headed for the Bahia Emerald. If anything, he was still going to get what he came for.

Hope rose up to block his path, but he ghosted directly through her, much to her shock and consternation. He smirked as she made a frightened and disgusted sound when she realized just how he had evaded her. “Ephemeral!” she called with a panicked whine touching her voice.

The man in question still hadn’t left the archway and still hadn’t unbent his head.

What was his power anyway? Upon arriving in Mayfield, Abscondro had done research into the Descendants and the one called Ephemeral was still a gigantic question mark. He rarely participated in battles and there was very little to even hint about his abilities.

It was probably best to ignore him and just get the Emerald as quickly as… Abscondro’s train of thought came to a sudden and screaming halt. He lived and died on being observant. Being able to phase meant nothing if he didn’t pay attention to guard movements and security measures. Ignoring things was the last thing he would ever consider, especially with danger from all sides.

That was why he hadn’t fled when he had the chance, why he’d allowed anger and greed to cloud his thief’s instincts. He gritted his teeth. Even if the anger was coming from tampering with his mind, he certainly wasn’t going to let Ephemeral go unnoticed. “Vamanos! The guy in the back! Take him out!”

Vamanos looked to where Abscondro was pointing and frowned again. Facsimile had disappeared among the display cases in the crash. What was more, she too had seen precious little about Ephemeral’s abilities and was reluctant to try and ram him as she did the durable Facsimile.

That is correct, you do not. A voice came to her head. I can see your thoughts and I know your apprehension. You know this is wrong, but you do not wish to appear weak to your role model.

A shiver ran up Vamanos’s spine. She was already unsure and she certainly didn’t need to hear someone else voicing those uncertainties.

The voice continued. But this man, Abscondro is not a role model. He is a criminal and will soon be bought to task for his crimes. But it is not too late for you. You can stop now and we will return you to your home.

“Vamanos!” Abscondro phased to dodge Codex again, “Do it now!”

Vamanos took a deep breath. She’d already come this far, she reasoned, and Abscondro was a thief, not a killer. Even if he didn’t care if guards got hurt, he wouldn’t tell her to do something that would really and seriously hurt someone. And besides that, Vincent Liedecker had money to spare. He wouldn’t really miss the emerald.

Swallowing hard, she took a step; only to find a gold scaled tail in the way of her first high speed step. The force of the collision flipped her on her back and sent her sprawling into the side of a metal display case, which dented deeply while ejecting its contents through its glass front.

“I could have told you not to bother appealing to this one’s better nature.” Said a giant, golden boa constrictor in Facsimile’s voice. It wrapped Vamanos in its coils and lifted her away from the ground and then bought its face around to its captive’s, tickling her cheek with a forked tongue. “I know your type: probably hanging with the cheerleaders, making fun of people you think are different. It’s no surprise you’d turn out to be a criminal.”

“Bitter much?” Hope asked, trying to hem Abscondro in with punches, while not allowing him to pass through her again. “I thought we were here to save her?”

“Hey, she kidnapped him, remember?” Facsimile pointed out.

“Abscondro!” Vamanos cried out, seeing her mentor finally escape the two prelates by phasing through a tall display case and into arm’s length from the pedestal holding the Bahia Emerald.

He didn’t even glance at her as he reached through the pedestal and grabbed the gem. “Nice knowing you.” He said, “But I don’t need fans.” He dropped through the floor just as Codex reached him.

A gasp caught in Vamanos’s throat. “N-no.” She said weakly. It was hard not to cry, but she tried anyway, being in the presence of prelates. “He… left me.”

“He’s evil, what more did you expect?” Facsimile asked, keeping her coils tight. “Loyalty doesn’t tend to come with the kit.”

“Facsimile.” Codex reprimanded. “I understand how you feel about this… situation.” She finished diplomatically, “But it won’t help to rub salt in the girl’s wound.” She came to stand in front of the still coil wrapped Vamanos.

The girl had gone limp, no longer trying to escape.

“For what it’s worth, Callie, I’m sorry for what’s happened to you. But you chose the wrong person to idolize, I’m afraid. Abscondro only cares about himself and his fame, not for his fans; no matter how much they may care about him.”

“I thought…” Tears were starting to track down the girl’s face, “I thought this would be so amazing… so special. I just wanted to meet him and let him see what I can do.”

Codex nodded sympathetically. “Why haven’t you let anyone else know about your powers, Callie?”

The defeated girl sniffed. “My mom. The same day I found out, she told me she was going to one of those Reverend Stiles meetings. I couldn’t tell her about it after that… she’d hate me. And my friends… they already make fun of me for not having money… they wouldn’t talk to me if they found out I do any of the things I do for fun… much less that I have powers.”

With a nod, Codex gestured for Facsimile to let Vamanos go, which she did grudgingly.

“I have some advice for you, Callie.” Codex said, helping the girl stand. She gave a meaningful glance at the three other Descendants with her. “Find some new friends. I’m sure there are some people at your school that will definitely accept you.”

Vamanos leaned hard on her. “I wish. But the worst part of all this is that Abscondro got away with the emerald.”

“Actually.” Facsimile was still frowning hard, even as a snake, at Codex’s declaration, “You need to do better research before you fic.”

“If you had, you would have known that this is a learning museum.” Hope said, “Everything here is a replica that little kids as allowed to touch and play with. The real thing is in a vault somewhere.”

The Lucite imitation of the world’s largest emerald clanked on the end table in Abscondro’s living room as the man himself threw himself likewise down on the couch. It might be worth eighty dollars, tops if it wasn’t for sale in the Westinghall Building gift shop for five each.

The entire night had been a waste, thanks entirely to his worthless number one fan. Abscondro didn’t even bother removing his mask as he lay there on the sofa, thinking of the ways he’d let his anger be known should he ever run into her again.

“Hard night?”

Instantly, Abscondro was sitting up. There was a man standing at the door to the kitchen, wearing a long coat, eating an apple. One of Abscondro’s apples. And he recognized the interloper immediately as well; one of the now wanted former Enforcers from the PTAA; Josiah Colt, AKA Avatar. “What do you want?” He demanded, standing.

“You’re a man of talent.” Colt crunched into the apple and took his time chewing. “My employers appreciate that in a person. They think it should be rewarded.”

“Then what do your employers want?” Abscondro growled.

“They want me to extend a job offer to you.” Colt replied. “There are… very convincing rewards for taking it.”

“I’m not in this for money.”

“Who said money? My guys have been in the information business since World War Two. They know a lot of things that will definitely get your attention.” Colt smiled. “Stick with us and you’ll have the information and means to steal the Rio Grande if you wanted to.”

End Issue #36