A Million souls to take

Nameless struggling PD


In his bedroom were two sleeping mats now, something that felt odd to him. For so much of his life he had been an older man, single and a bachelor that having company felt like an odd note in the middle of a stanza, jarringly it caught one's attention. And yet her presence, despite the attending issues of modesty and manners and small difficulties of gender - - well she felt comforting. As if her presence changed the way he looked at each day. Ever single in his life, he had no way of knowing, but he wondered if marriage was a touch of something similar; something to contemplate after this time passed. It was, after all, for a short time and soon the modified restaurant would be finished and ready to go. Even tomorrow he was to go see the final progress, and the arrival of the 'special' trademen who would come to change what the first crew had done.

The first crew was long gone actually, having finished the remodeling of the structures and the inner walls with stairs, ladders, plumbing, electricity, and the security system. The second crew worked hard to finish the inside areas with paneling and rough finish to each living area with the tiles and utilities needed. Tomorrow the third crew would arrive, a pair of men from Australia flown in to put in the secret panels and covers over the different entrances and locations, specialized in their work and by their own advice brought to the building to work never seeing the outside nor knowing the owner's name. Clearly they had worked for some very particular clients who wanted the best in secrecy! Finally would be the fourth crew which would include the painters and the interior decorator to install all the rest. The parlor/business areas would be her entire domain actually as the real living spaces were already well hidden by then.

Nameless had seen to that yesterday. The small dumbwaiter lifts for between the floors would serve them well for moving the small amount of furnishings from the basement storage to the upstairs apartments and Eli was strong enough for three men to begin with. With her help the upstairs would be well furnished long after the secrets were concealed, leaving the downstairs "storage rooms" to have doors fitted already in a crate down there turning them into soundproof cells, ready to act as Eli's larder while they carried out their plans. And the upstairs apartments (each with four rooms; bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living space) would serve well for their occupants to decorate as they wished in secret. Half of what he owned he already had in the downstairs storage and everything left here was portable. Even Eli did not know about the very secret move of the goddess's things to their new sanctuary between the floors under his apartment and centrally placed above the business where she could observe the occurrences that happened below her in her new dominion.

He had the impression last night at his devotions she was particularly pleased with his work. He certainly hoped so, although for the merry hell she had turned his life into, he should have done something far less, but he had been charged by the Emperor himself and he would carry that charge till the end of his days which he earnestly prayed would not be many lifetimes. To go on as Eli had, stuck in that age for so long and unable to live life instead just surviving it was a type of hell he would not allow himself to descend into. Now his relatives could continue after him and under a new type of protection by removing himself from their vicinity. It felt very wrong to remove himself from his family, centuries of belief and tradition screaming out against it, but he had finally realized how much danger they were in from him and he could not allow it any more. besides, with him gone maybe they could bring themselves to have children again, ones not at risk from the games of the gods.

As he lay on his pallet in the darkness, his eyes were open as he watched the ceiling, thinking through how many things were left to be finished. As the American's said (he had never gotten used to his citizenship here; at heart he would always be from China and a faithful servant as he had been raised, his culture one of an ancient past), it was 'the home stretch.' Crazy Americans and their odd belief systems! A powerful people who disconnected themselves from their own power and handicapped themselves in their daily lives with artificial rules which argued against human nature, disabled by their mind sets as much as by their voluntary restrictions. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and his eyes latched onto it, trained by a wave of assassination attempts to pay attention to even the smallest of details.

The Sacred Grotto Crickets, known to outsiders as a type of cave crickets in China and elsewhere, was a much larger creature then many expected, blocky with chitin looking like an old warriors armor. Many who saw them in China considered them to be a special creature even in the culture which dealt with their fascination already. Ever since the switch in which he inhabited the body of his nephew locals had called him the Cricket Boy, coming unnervingly close to a hidden truth he had kept concealed for nearly a hundred years. He had not, in fact, laid a hand on a cricket carrier since he was in China. And now here in the rafters was the largest Grotto Cricket he had ever seen, climbing like an elderly man down the support beam to the floor. But as surprising as that was, that paled in comparison to the most surprising feature of this creatures decent.

Every part of it's body glowed clearly in the dark as if it hid a fire from the gods themselves inside it's body.

Somehow he knew Eli was awake, maybe it was her changed breathing, but neither of them moved as it approached the floor, moving slowly and in no way alarming. Maybe they shared an awakening dream, one of those where you were both awake and dreaming at the same time, but he could not have looked away for anything on this earth. In a slow eternity he sat up at the waist to keep it in sight as it hopped not at all but walked arthriticly across the floor towards his space, passing by Eli's form, only hesitating to wave it's antennae in her direction as if in friendly greeting before it approached him as unerringly as if it had a built in GPS system in a maze of roads. Master Ge Nameless's eyes grew larger as it approached, never having seen the will of the Goddess in direct full manifestation before, though he knew it was her creature in all ways. It had the 'feel' of her indeed!

And outsider would have seen nothing except Nameless and Eli suddenly intent on the same space in the pitch black, following it with their eyes. As he observed the approaching phenomenon, Nameless began to chant a blessing to the goddess in old Cantonese, preying for restful sleep after such a long service and thanking her greatly for all that she had done for her most worthless servant who managed greatly still after so much time. Thoughts of family and China and his devotions fell away like years and for a moment it was easy to see the old man in his features as he greeted 'old man cricket' with respectful tones, tired of his days on this earth and ready for a reward of peaceful sleep without end. It stopped, sitting about two feet away waving it's antennae to him as if it listened carefully to his words, considering all his life in it's temporary Omnipotent nature as one of Her servants.

For her own part, Eli could feel the air charged with power, expectant like a thunderstorm about to break a very long pregnant drought. The smell in the air was that of freshly created ozone often found with lightning storms and it's passage brought a fresh air like spring flowers with it. There was little doubt to either of them that there was anything they could do that whatever was about to happen, would, without any influence from them on either part.Nameless had not so much forgotten as pushed aside the reminder that Crickets were the sign of ancient immortality amongst his people, preferring to think of that as a representative of the Goddess herself instead and the private symbol of the many Emperors of the past millennium how he served as a type of priest.

Then it jumped into his chest the light vanishing into Nameless as it did so, lighting his features frozen on the word of "" which meant 'life' as it passed like a hot knife through butter into his flesh, vanishing as quickly as it had come. Only Eli saw a sudden rush of light and energy come up from Nameless's form which washed over an invisible form for an eternal second to her eyes like a beautiful Chinese Princess of wispy light (a sad smile as she looked at Nameless with regret) above his head before it too vanished as if it had never been. As Nameless fell over, his head fortunately hitting the slim pillow he allowed himself for sleep, his eyes were wide as dinner plates stared straight up at something no one else could see on this earth as chilly knowledge fell into his mind giving him the full extent and detailed usage of his new powers suddenly fully awakened and trained in his form. He tried to finish the words he had been about to say, the words in Chinese vanishing from his conscious mind for a moment as only one word could occur to him to express his feelings at this moment of immortal and divine experience, the abrupt knowledge straight from the Goddess into his mere mortal existence.

"Wēnshén."*

And then he did something she had never seen before, but fit his flesh all too well. Nameless rolled onto his side going fetal and began to cry, his sorrow at his fleshy prison being extended into an unforeseeable ending nightmare as if he was a small child suddenly awakened from the scariest boogieman back into the reality of a sunless day of pain. It was a rather heartbreaking scene, a surrendering of dignity earned to subside into the simplest expression of deep sorrow and horror one could feel.

Master Ge Nameless had many titles he could have put out on his board. Master of Feng Shui, specialist in Mah Jong fortunes, Ninth degree Tai Chi Master, Wizard of the ancient magics, and secretly the Guardian of the spirit of the Chinese Emperors & Caretaker of the Goddess of the Imperial Palace (though he had little information about her as she had been a very carefully concealed secret). All together they made a very impressive set of both knowledge and life-long mastery few could compare to, even if taken individually. Unfortunately none of them had given him much insight about the events of the last twenty-four hours nor could they; any time the divine messed in the lives of mortals all rules went off the table and the normal resources for possible information tended to come up blank.

It had taken several hours for him to come to terms with what had happened, not the least of which was a total loss of dignity and a touch of madness around eight in the morning which he had managed to finally beat down. If one of the underworld's assassins had shown up during that time he would have laid down and bared his throat with relief, but Eli had kept him from self-destructive tendencies and he was now in a frame of mind to thank her for her efforts at the very least. Similar to the mental effects of the last 'incident' which had been caused (he still suspected the Goddess, but who really knew?), that time he had been saved by having his family around him and Eli now counted far more as family in his life now as of everyone he knew, she now qualified as one of the few people who could relate, understand, and perform the demonic things he now could as well.

Definitely a curse in his mind, there would be no joy in his new power and his only recourse back to being in balance and harmony would be to turn them upon his people's self-inflicted disease of criminal cancers. And maybe that was what the Goddess wanted him to do, but surely he had already the perfect weapon for such in Eli, why curse him into an eternity of despair and frustration? Yes, at this time he far better understood why Eli thought of her powers as a curse at times, not a blessing. And after a lifetime of devoted service, to be used in such a way--- No, he would resist that mass of twisted thoughts again. It would get him no where except throwing himself from the nearest rooftops and failing whatever test this was to his soul. Damnable gods, playing games with his lives again...

Whatever. His purpose might be clear, it was only the path which needed thinking upon now. If he, like Eli was now a type of predator on others, he needed someone to perform as the cover to their secret plans. And with the new place coming to a completion (Placing the Goddess in her new home yesterday (had it really only been a day??!!) had for Nameless been the completion of the building itself) then it was time to let others know about their choosing to be in his plans. Accordingly he had collected all of his final possessions, directing his nephew and Eli in helping him pack his arm strength no good for the task no matter how much he tried. His more sacred tools and carefully planned formulas having been saved for last in the move. With the upstairs emptied out (even his stove bathtub already installed in the new place) and secured in the new building he returned for one last task before his niece and her family moved into the upstairs of the building.

Standing in the empty apartment he looked around one last time in the bedroom, remembering the assassins who had entered, especially the one he had fried on the old stove. A slight feel of satisfaction that this part of his life had, at the very least, been successful in it's purpose of enabling his family success and security. The door opened and the stubborn girl entered, carrying the tea tray. before she could set it down he motioned her into the bedroom space and pointed to the middle of the floor where two pillows remained, both royal purple silk with gold threading and very very fine. When she knelt on the floor and reached for the tea he touched her hand, stopping her. Her expression was calmly neutral as befitted her ancestors, but she was surprised when he motioned for her to sit on one of the cushions.

With perfect poise and slow movements he performed the proper tea ceremony as she watched, serving her first before himself in direct opposite of what she had been taught, unless for one you wished honor upon. The conversation was in Cantonese and very quiet with many pauses after each sentence. If a linguist had listened he would have noted very archaic inflections in the young boy's words, as if the boy remembered the time of his ancestors much more clearly then most which would have been entirely correct.



(I know of your wishes, granddaughter, but what you seek has a high cost.)

A sip of tea, a pause to savor.

(Is that still your desire? You will have to give up the life you knew.)

Stunned silence from the girl.

(Y-you noticed? Grandfather, I did not mean to reach above my station, please you-- )

A move of his hand cut her off.

(The time for that is past. What you desire will cost your independence and your innocence.)

She looked into her cup, at a loss for words.

(Nothing of the old perception of the world will remain, you will have to work hard.)

Her eyes showed her confusion as he sipped again, unsure what she should say.

(...I do not understand. What path must I choose? )

Silence, drawn out for a full minute.

(If you choose the path I take, you must give up your individuality in service.)

She bowed her head, her mind clearing as she thought of what she wanted, more then anything.

(I must have nothing by absolute obedience in all things. That is the price.)

A nod from her as he sipped, savoring the tea which made his soul feel centered more then anything else could.

(My Lord, I will follow you to the center of all things.)

She bowed low, her forehead touching the floor where she held it, listening without breath.

(Then I accept your service beginning now.)

And Nameless leaned out and touched the back of her neck...



A few moments to remove her shoes (which were hideous things with tall platforms) and slip on slippers Nameless had left out. The girl then put the shoes in her pockets and picked up the tray, having trouble balancing it unlike earlier. A check to make sure nothing was left behind and she collected the scroll & key from behind the pillow Nameless had been sitting on a minute ago. Putting it on the tray, she took the pillow tassels in one hand under the tray and awkwardly made it out the door closing it behind her. Downstairs she carried things and entered the restaurant, nodding at Nameless's niece and handing her the scroll (sealed and ribbon-ed with gold) as she put the cushions down long enough to take the tray into the kitchen and put together a to go box of a family order of the bananas before she returned, picking the cushions back up and giving her former boss a head bow of respect, which was returned. Outside a rickshaw waited which was called earlier and deposited the young teenager outside Nameless's new place, as yet unopened.

Opening the back door next to a street seller's stall, she entered and slid the bar behind her before going halfway up the steps. The new stairway was heavily decorated in rich red and shiny brass luck charm symbols scattered all over the walls, a hundred different types. She reached out and turned one around so it formed the opposite symbol meaning curse and then pushed it in. Bending down she slipped her fingers into the hidden crack in the step in front of her and lifted up, revealing a hidden entrance under the steps Nameless could never have managed with his child's strength. Once through it was lowered into place with a click and the stairway symbol reverted to it's original position. Unlocking the second door as well, the girl walked into the main floor which was filled with a large collection of construction tools and paneling still being placed and chose a stairway to the side, half finished, and made her way up carefully.

In the new office she acted rather curiously however. First, she was careful to only walk on the cleared top of surfaces, avoiding all parts of the floor.

Pushing aside certain things to clear the floor, she stripped down to her underthings with awkward fingers and hung these clothes up on a hanger on the far end of the room. Unrolling a special small carpet in the middle of the space (and leaving the shoes with the outer wear), she carefully slipped off the slippers and with careful aim, tossed them over the table to the far corner where they fell into a bucket. Using the Kleenex that had been rolled up in the small carpet, she wiped the bottom of each foot carefully clean before placing it on the carpet, then cleaned her fingers and tossed the bundle far away as well. Kneeling, she took the jewelry which had been left in the Kleenex and put them on, her wrists, neck, and ankles. Finished, she ran her fingers over each piece to make sure everything was ready and then bent over, putting her forehead against the carpet carefully.

Nameless stepped out of her back onto the front of the carpet and jumped lightly about three feet away, turning so he landed on his feet roughly facing her. Quickly pulling out a red pocket laser he aimed for a spot on the carpet to the side of her where the girl was suddenly dizzy and slightly disoriented. After about ten seconds the fuse went off and as she opened her eyes getting her vision back, there was a great cloud of red powder on all sides, an old magicians trick for entrance and exits in front of an audience. Clueless of these tricks, she sat up slowly with a disbelieving glance around before she even realized she was herself changed. As she felt the necklace with wide eyes and looked up, Nameless merely looked at her with a stony face and said (This is now your new place of work. You will attend me here everyday and as soon as you have moved your things, you will be here every evening as well.)

Her look was one of dawning amazement at his power and deep respect mingling with excitement! In her mind she had just been transported across the city, redressed, and presented with the proof of Master Ge's supreme powers as a being of extreme importance. She knew she never wanted to disappoint him nor anger him in any way! The last few years she had wanted to be his girlfriend, secretly desiring to be part of his rising legend in the Chinatown public, and secure herself a position of respect for her daring. That now mixed with this fresh display into a close-to-fanaticism that she had achieved her desire of the legend and held it by her Lord's will alone! She bowed deeply and moved forward on her hands and knees kissing his foot and saying (Yes Master...) with a voice tinged with devotion.

Nameless smiled.

He waited for his victim, wondering what was taking him so long. Normally the man would be home by now, at least by the last four weeks of observations by his contact who had been hired to jot down his daily itinerary. And this was not a good spot to remain, waiting for the victim to return and release the alarm system allowing access to the records he needed. Currently he was tucked up in a cramped ceiling space over two pipes, all that was keeping him from falling through the thin waferboard below him by inches. In fact it was just this security which Nameless was counting on as no one would expect someone to manage their way through this particular ceiling; the space just wasn't there!

On a more particularly alarming note, Nameless really needed to pee.

No, definitely not a good place to think about such a thing. And despite his genetically enhanced bladder and endurance stuff tucked in there, he would be up against his limit in the next while, a disastrous situation. Over the past two decades he had done quite a lot of tinkering, perfecting this particular part of his anatomy to the delight of many of the female persuasion, but it occurred to him now maybe he should spend some more time on alternatives to this situation which, unfortunately, he could focus on enough to fix with his power because[ of the distraction inherit in his biology. Which while he could fiddle, he couldn't really massively change in any speed at the very least which meant he might be giving away his hiding spot soon because of mother nature's call.

In an effort of distraction, he tried to send his mind down the intellectual side of the problem. How many phrases had he heard, anyway? The more obvious ones such as number one or pee pee used by small children, take a piss, drain the lizard, see a man about a horse, and take a leak all sprang to mind. Unfortunately. But then there were odder ones, the more unusual ones which caught the ear and made your eyebrows rise as you contemplated how that one got in the language. Like the one a young boy had used, 'I have to squege bad.' You had to wonder if that came about from the idea of squeezing the sponge on a squege or what? And really now, 'hang a yoo-ee' and 'throw a piss' were just ridiculous! How were you supposed to throw it in the first place unless you had managed the dexterity to spell your name in the snow to begin--

Okay, that was not helping at all!

Even worse, he was wearing a sealed suit, a biological type which would prevent leaving any hair or skin cells behind, but if he had to piss, they could get samples from that. He would need to use something to destroy any samples behind and you couldn't do that with a toilet which often had built in 'traps' that plumbers could get stuff out of sometimes. So that left the toilet out. The shoes he had wrapped carpeting around would destroy any prints from those, though awkward, so he really needed to figure out an alternative method... Nameless's face grimaced as he felt the pressure and fought to find a way to keep it at bay. A safe subject. Yes! Horses! No! Not horses! Trees! No, he'd been camping too many times. Flying pigs? No, nothing with wings since birds piddled everywhere. Ceiling fan. There was one going in the room below he could see it's electrical box from here, feel the slight vibration as it turned.

That was continuous constant motion, soothing. For a moment he allowed his mind to think about constant motion to avoid the feeling of cramped space he was in now. Constant motion turned to other things in constant motion which led to waterfalls. No good. His original intent to leave the man alone and slip in and out preferably undetected was beginning to fall apart slowly with the mental battle happening in his mind. He heard movement at the front of the house, the door possibly...

- The Next Day -


Officer One: Right over here, Lieutenant...
Detective: Next to the desk?
Officer One: Yes sir, you can see the outline in the carpet. Suspect was found by the owner lying unconscious, face down.
Detective: -looking up at ceiling- Well it's clear there was two of them at least.
Officer One: Yes sir. Unconscious suspect was covered in ceiling wafers, but the trail leads from here to the bathroom. -leads way around forensics-
Detective: Wait a minute. What is the deal with the ceiling fan?
Officer Two: No fingerprints sir, just checked.
Officer One: They think whoever the second suspect was he ripped it out, sir. Lots of signs of force, must have used their weight.
Detective: Curious. -puzzled over the destruction of the ceiling fan, parts lying around all over-
Officer One: Trail leads into the bathroom sir, but no detectable trail back out that they could find. But look here in the shower sir.
Detective: Odd. So the second suspect knocks out the first by falling on him, destroys the ceiling fan for some unknown reason, then goes to the bathroom, pulls out a bottle of bleach and pours it into the shower drain.
Officer One: That's what it looks like sir. And then he disappeared.
Detective: -mumbles- I hope this isn't some kind of vigilante thing...
Officer One: Sir?
Detective: Never mind. You said you had three sites to show me?
Officer One: Yes sir. -leads way into hall and points-
Detective: -stares at smashed picture of two girls at petting farm with pigs-
Officer One: And no trail here either sir. They've been looking for tracks, but somehow he didn't leave any. The carpet looks like it has been cleaned though, see?
Detective: Hmm. So the owner can't shed any other light? Nothing else has been disturbed?
Officer One: No sir. He said he had files in the back bedroom, but he didn't find anything odd with those and no other evidence in the house of an intruder. And Jones tried a step ladder to look in the ceiling space, there's no way a grown man could have gotten in there without removing parts of his body to fit. It's very tight. A child might have managed it.
Detective: Hold on, come back here. -leads way back to ceiling hole, squats and points at the carpeting-
Officer One: Ah, good eyes sir. I missed that.
Detective: So, he must have entered the ceiling from here and cleaned his tracks off the carpet with something, then climbed up above. Light weighted then, maybe a midget or a kid?
Officer One: Probably a good guess sir.
Detective: And the smashed picture, he might be making a threat against the man's kids. Or maybe this suspect was a teenager, in their school, thought bleach would cause a problem like vandalism and mess up the pipes?
Officer One: ....uh.
Detective: Right too weird. This is a bizarre scene. I'm going to have to wait for more forensics I think, but put out the word we want any information on known small-sized cat burglars working the area... But get me information on the girls, what school they go to, could be a juvenile connection here.
Officer One: -salutes- Yes sir...

Will glided forward and through the fence, passing right between the motion detectors without hesitation. While she wasn't opaque, her form was easily seen through by electronic devices and this one proved no different then other ones. Besides, the idea of the government using the top of the line models on a prison wall was laughable. At the main building though she turned and glided along nearly a hundred yards before she chose her entrance spot. The totaly jerkface who had interupted her mission last time had been deftly avoided this time and it was nearly a month later. The public outcry when someone had found out about the prison release (which she actually had nothing to do with) had put the project on total hold for the moment giving her plenty of time for a second attempt. If she had known the police were on the trail vagually, collecting evidence to make a link to some of her past attacks she might not have been so open, but she really didn't have a clue at this moment so it caused no delays in her thinking. She sank into the wall and passed through the four foot thick walls slowly, oozing out into a cell having missed the wall corner by nearly ten feet. Damn. Ah well, too late. Turning to the four bunks in the small cell she noted they were all fast asleep being it was nearly four am; perfect. She stepped out through the bars into the hallway and turned the corner moving slow. She was not on the side with cameras, but in another thirty feet she would enter the hallway for death row. Going solid again, Will took out a hood and slipped it on giving her face the look of a half-zombie half skeleton and pulled out two arm sleeves as well and slipped into them finishing the effect. Ready now for the attack, she turned mist and went through the wall into the main coridor across and almost instantly got picked up on the cameras as she glided straight into the first cell and put her hand directly into the man's face and eyes.

The instant scalding was enough to seer his eyes and throat and as he half-woke starting to scream his lungs seered themselves as well eliminating any sounds except his gut wrenching hiss as he expired rapidly. It was noisy enough to wake up the man across, but not an emrergency alarm. However, the camera had already blinked the image to security central where three officers were staring in horror, paralyzed as to what to do next as she left that cell and went after the man awake as a rolling fog began to form in the cell. That man's horrified scream as the fog began to scorch his skin was enough however to wake most of the rest of death row as the fog cover began rolling past their cells. As the alarms were finally sounded she was on her way to another cell and so on. The response time was fast and only held up by their own lock down doors as the nearest officers had to call in for doors to be opened to allow them access. But by then she had already left three rolling on the floor in death throws. By the time they managed to get into the fog itself they had to back off and try fire extinguishers to get the hot steam away. By that time, half of the twenty-two men on death row were already either on their way to their final destination or dead already. In as little as fifteen minutes she had already saved the state nearly a million and a half for solitary and executed twenty plus men who should not have ever been let free, diseased creatures that they were. When she reached the end of the row she let the fog roll forward and the guards fled behind the protective doors (not that she would have hurt them as they were innocents) and used her power to short out the hallway mains, sending this end of the prison into complete darkness and starting a real panic amongst the prisonors who could clearly hear something was going on on death row, something horrible evil sounding. Going through the wall she made her way down into the far end and started through the wall, the last thing she saw on the inside was a guard shrunk back against the wall arms in front of his face sure she had come to kill him and terrified.

Now for the difficult part, the escape itself.

Unbeknownst to her, the outer perimeter guards had broken the rules and congregated at each tower for communications, trying to find out what was happening inside and getting mostly shouts and panic from inside Ward C. Thus when she exited in the darkness and crossed the field, no one saw her or spotted her misty form till she was nearly at the fence. And watching a ghost glide up to and through the fence without hesitation was not only a jaw dropper, but as she faded into the night she would have been highly amused as one guard turned to the next and said "If you think that's going in the log, you can forget that sh!t. I didn't see a damn thing." The other guard just nodded, pale as paper as the call came through for the warden's car to be sent for even tho it was so early in the morning. The cover up began the next day as the Liuetenant goveneor, three state senators, and the state corenor had a hurried afternoon discussion and then began closing down any stories that were out there. A small news article released a week later reported on an accidental food poisoning and firing of the food service supplier for the deaths of twenty-two inmates following a state investigation. No outsiders were allowed into the suspect investiagtion despite local protests and no more details were released. Long before that, Will had been through two clothing changes, used two taxi's, and ended up in a train leaving for the first run of the morning into the big city. A deep sigh that everything this time had gone better, she drank from a flask as the train barreled into the morning commute and saluted the stations as she passed through, a great feeling of accomplishment in her mind as her brother's spirit celebrated more demons gone from the earth. She would end up calling it an early day later on when her boss noted her looking rather bad and sent her home from work around noon.

But that was just the normal crash, nearly eight hours later then normal. Will lay on her bed, morose and wailing about the travesty of justice that was her brother's killer's trail and how she needed more information to catch him, track him down. Thus she was not in the office when her boss had an order come through from the governor that he was to ask no more information about the situation under direct orders. Her boss would complain about being handled by the politicans for weeks afterwards to her amusement and sympathy. Life continued for the moment as always, with a sudden benefit of extra monies in the system for the reshuffling of prisoners by the new directive. Oddly enough, the story never appeared in the papers again and eventually the prisoner release happened though in other parts of the state then the local scene to avoid publicity. She would be insensed when she found out later as three of the men releassed were on her list. This would require her to expand her search for them and risk some discovery to find out where they had disapeared too...

Will returned to her hide out, carefully sure of no one following her to the apartment. The only person who had been slightly interested in her passage from mid-town was fairly unconscious now, upside down in a trash can, the lecher. Trying to feel her up had been a lesson she was sure he would not forget for a very long time. It was therefore with great satisfaction that she closed the door and did up the locks and multiple chains before slipping off her costume to change into something more comfortable. Within a few minutes she was in her command room, carefully altering her map detail on the wall to match the fact another target was gone off her radar now. A shred of his files and then toss of them in the burn unit removed anything tying him to this place.

Of course, all of the files had been copied at work so nothing was technically missing. A single roll of film she took out of the camera and put it in her bag to drop off on her way to work tomorrow. A fruitful evening, it might be some time before they discovered that particular criminal duo, not that either had the same ending of course. The two were both pedophiles she had been tracking separately who had somehow turned up at the same place to work. Although she had found no connection between them (as neither appeared to know the other's background), she had managed to forge a change on the work schedule one night to set them both in the same place same time. Tonight had been that night.

Being able to toast both of them one at a time (blinding them with a blast of super-hot steam till they passed out from it), then stuff them each into barrels and cover their unconscious forms with brine solution had been a work of minutes far more difficult had been to try and seal the lids with the machines, finishing one, but only part way through the other before she heard someone returning. It being near the end of the shift she had watched with some amusement as the man who had come looking for one of them had snarled and finished the job, loading the two barrels with the forklift into the storage area to sit for six months aging.

Even now she could imagine the headlines the bad newspapers would write if they were ever found. More likely would be the people in the particular stores wheeling out the barrels and empty them into the New York Harbor quickly so as to not destroy the company's reputation. "Half pickled Pederast found in Harbor." It was then, sitting back in her chair sipping a glass of wine she remembered one of the men had been hiding under the assumed name of "Robin Tink" and she barely managed to stop from snorting as her mind rearranged the headline to read "One Pickled Tink."

Bad humor and Vengeance. What a fun combination!

Finishing off her drink, she poured another and settled down to work on the next case, her humor disappearing as the hours rolled past and the inevitable depression began again. As it did every night, her brother's influence of anger and impotence worked it's way into her work, turning her search into a depressive and driven search.

There are many ideas brought to mind by the title ‘Ninja’. One, of course is the classic image of the illusive figure, dusky clothes masking their identity and endearing them to shadows. Another, the almost inhuman stealth with which they move, possessing feline elegance and unnatural silence even in motion. There is their uncanny ability to appear as if from nowhere and vanish equally as enigmatically. And the knowledge that each one is capable of delivering a swift and lethal fate to their unsuspecting victims. So far Sephy had accomplished only the costume part, though he was working on the silent but deadly factor. His first step towards that was to acquire something else associated with ninjas, a katana sword.

Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy as walking into the local store; you couldn’t just pick up a good quality katana from anywhere or so Seph had learnt over the last few days. Besides, even if they had been easy to come across they were incredibly expensive for a student living off his sparse savings. He’d turned to his computer and favourite search engine for help and found out that there was an auction house in the city which was selling a large quantity of swords the next day. A visit and some poking around gifted him the knowledge that the swords were being held there overnight. That was how he’d ended up standing in his bedroom dressed as a ninja.

Looking around his room he made out the familiar surroundings from the blur of colours he was seeing. If he squinted he could just about make out the ninja turtles on his bedspread but if he’d not known what they were he might have mistaken them for dinosaurs. It was no good; he was going to have to wear his glasses. Grabbing them from the desk he carefully slid the arms beneath the black headscarf and pushed the spectacles back over his eyes, bringing the world into sharp focus. A glance in the mirror told him it looked lame and resolved him to invest in some contact lenses for next time; he could have a Clark Kent thing going on.

Apparel decided upon he turned towards one of the four walls of his room, from which he had cleared all clutter. He’d even dragged his chest of drawers away from it to clear space; his aim wasn’t quite perfect yet and he needed his escape route to be clear, just in case. Taking a deep breath to clear his head he held a hand up in front of him and walked towards the wall, then through it, emerging the other side in a large room he recognised from only that afternoon before. He had a few moments of peace in which to look around, it was dark, only lit by the amber glow of streetlights through the high windows but once his eyes adjusted it was more than enough to see by. He took a step forward and a scream pierced the air.

Sephy’s heart leapt into his throat as he realised he must have set off some sort of motion detector. He had half expected as much but for some reason he’d not been prepared for how loud it was, it must have been audible from blocks away. His time was limited now and so he broke into a run. The swords were on the other side of the room last time he’d seen them, locked in a glass cabinet. Sure enough he caught the gleam of the transparent surface and inside the swords. Without pausing he skidded to a halt and reached out for the one he favoured, his gloved fists passing through a portal spanning the glass and seizing the sword and sheaf.

A beam of light swept the room. Sephy’s head whipped around in time for his eyes to be dazzled by a flashlight.
”Hey!” The thief grinned, though his getup hid it from the guard, his adrenaline pumping as he ran out of the light towards the wall, jumping and slamming straight into it. He bounced off, hit the floor and leapt up again, too scared to think about the pain. This time he aimed for the right wall and dived through before the torchlight caught up with him. He landed heavily on his bedroom floor. It was a few minutes before he could move, his heart thumping in his chest and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. However the grin stole once more over his face and he looked to one side to where the sword lay gleaming on the carpet.

He realised how lucky he’d been not to be impaled on it but as the thought turned his stomach he pushed it away. Moving up on to his knees he sheathed the sword and then pulled it halfway out again to admire the shining blade. Thin lines engraved it to made out Japanese characters which according to the online description read ‘justice’. That was why he had chosen it, that was its purpose. Now he just had to learn how to use it. Yanking down the cloth which covered his mouth he got up opened his door just a crack.
”Mom! Do you know anywhere that teaches swordfighting?”

They’d seen him today. For months down he’d been trailing them, finding out where they hung out, where they lived and how they got home. At night, always at night, dressed in black and keeping out of sight. He thought he’d been stealthy, they couldn’t have glimpsed his shadowy figure more than a couple of times. But today they’d seen him, on the train heading back from the university. He’d not been expecting them to be there, why would he have? But whether it was through chance or design they ended up on the same train, on the same carriage at the same time.

***


Sephy braced his feet against the backrest in front of him as he leaned back into his own chair. It wasn’t the best use of space afforded to him by his seat on the subway train but he seemed comfortable in the position. Large blue headphones covered his ears, the image on the earpieces branding them as Skullcandy. Outside his personal bubble all that could be heard of the music he listened to was the thumping bass to which he bobbed his head. His bag rested in the seat beside him, between him and the window, it was a bulky backpack that was as heavy as it looked. He fiddled with an iPod, turning the screen light on and off in an absent minded waste of batteries.

It wasn’t until the hairs on the back of his neck rose that he stirred from his daze and realised he was being watched. Looking up sharply he instantly locked on to the narrowed eyes staring back and his breath deserted him. Their faces were immediately recognisable. Even if he hadn’t spent the last few months stalking them they haunted his dreams, his nightmares. They were that faces which woke him up coated in cold sweat and tasting the salt of his own tears. The last time he’d seen them this close Daniel had been dying in his arms and they were the reason. The shock and fear his expression had assumed by reflex shifted to cold, hard hatred prompting their glares to change into sneers.

They weren’t afraid of him, they’d killed his best friend and they obviously thought he would be equally easy to do away with. He dropped his gaze after a few moments, his dark eyes staring at the blank screen as the thought. He knew what they’d done and they were aware of that, maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Perhaps even as he’d been tracking them by night they’d been looking for him by day. The thought scared him; he admitted to himself that he was afraid of them but that just made him hate them more. He kept his eyes down for the rest of the journey passed his stop until the train reached its point of termination. Jumping off he glanced over his shoulder to see them darting through the doors at the last moment.

He didn’t run, he was thinking of them like dogs, if he started running then they’d give chase. He just needed to find somewhere where there were no people around. He took a brightly lit tunnel which led away from the station and on towards the next stop. Their footsteps echoed behind him but the men themselves were silent. A few people walked the same way but they were taking turnings off up to the surface, it wouldn’t be long now and they’d be alone. Sephy sped up and heard they were doing the same. There was a sharp turn in the tunnel up ahead; once he was round that he would be hidden from view. They broke into a run. Sephy didn’t even have to look, he launched himself forward, his bag bouncing painfully against his back, sprinting the last few metres turning round the corner and then into the wall. By the time his pursuers reached the corner the tunnel was empty.

He’d waited too long. Seeing them had rekindled his anger and made him realise he needed to take action. He had been putting it off, who knows whether he would have even done it as his best friend’s memory began to fade. The thought made him hate himself. He owed this to Daniel. He was ready; he would take the first one in two night’s time before they could come after him again.

The darkness makes monsters of us all. Innocent shadows become crouched figures, ready to spring upon you as you pass. A slamming car door is the sound of someone breaking in; no effort to be subtle as it won’t matter if you try to run. And that movement you catch out of the corner of your eye becomes an assassin stalking you through the night. However the figure swaggering down a dark alley, leaving the streetlight lit sidewalk behind him, was familiar with these things and had long ago stopped jumping at shadows. He dismissed the rattling of the bins as a rat chomping on the garbage, that shadow which moved across the wall was probably no more than the effect of a car driving passed the alley entrance and that figure crouch in the cage of the fire escape…

The man stopped, gazing up at the dark shape which his mind couldn’t decipher. He was a big guy, 6 foot at least and solidly built. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to picture the muscle and sinew beneath the grey tracksuit he wore. He was obviously aware of his physical prowess as there was not a sign of nervousness as he stood alone in a back alley of New York. He regarded the shape for a few moments but when it didn’t move he looked away, only to catch something out of the corner of his eye. His head snapped back but the patch of darkness was gone, only brick visible through the grill. That made him pause a minute, but only long enough to convince himself that nothing could get up or down the shaky metal structure without him hearing and that what he’d seen was just a trick of the light.

Sephy flattened himself against the wall crouched behind a set of metal bins, his heart hammering in his chest. He was certain he’d been rumbled on the fire escape, the man had been looking right at him. It seemed this costume did more than just look cool. His target continued through the darkness, a silhouette against the light at the far end. His pace had picked up a little, maybe he was slightly unnerved by the disappearing shadow. Seph smiled at the thought. He wanted the man to be scared, to be terrified like he had been. Backing up the ninja kicked one of the bins before slipping through the wall. Emerging ahead of his victim he saw him looking back over his shoulder. Seph jumped up and ran across the alley, jumping through the wall on the opposite side.

The hooded thug was certain that was no rat. He gazed back the way he’d come but could see nothing in the darkness. It was nothing. He told himself. He turned his head just in time to catch sight of ‘nothing’ darting across the alley, silhouetted against the light. A lithe, dark figure dressed in black. It disappeared into the shadows but before he had time to call out something clattered above him. His head jerked up to see someone looking down on him from the fire escape, there were more than one of them.
”Who’s there?!” He reached round the back of his pants, hand closing around the hard, comforting shape of his gun, the metal warmed by his skin. The figure remained silent but back towards the wall and seemed to disappear within the shadows.

Sephy could hear him breathing. Smiling to himself he crept up from behind only to see the man make a sudden movement to pull out his gun at the same time as twitching his head. The ninja dove through a wall, emerging the opposite side of the man in time to hear the gunshot ring through the night. Time was up. Sephy drew his sword at the same time as he ran towards the man, the blade glinting wickedly. Hearing the metallic ring the man began to turn, raising his gun again. Their eyes met and the man’s widened in shock. There was a clatter as the gun hit the floor, followed slowly by its owner as he slid off of the sword which impaled him.

Staring down at the man Seph’s heart near stopped before restarting at triple time as a scream of pain pierced the air. His expression hardening he crouched down beside the dying man who was now staring at him in utter terror, covering his mouth roughly with one gloved hand.
”I want you to know why.” He whispered ”You’re dead because you killed Daniel. You killed my best friend.” He would have liked to think understanding dawned in the man’s eyes with his words but it was unlikely he comprehended anything as death closed its cold fingers around his mind. Another scream ripped through the moment but it wasn’t from his victim. Looking up Sephy saw a woman at the end of the alley staring at him. He put a finger to his lips and stood up, backing towards the wall. He melted into the shadows with a single word.

”Hush.”

“Drip.”

The clarity of the sound was piercing and, relentlessly, it had worn through the cushion of unconsciousness to stir the mind of the man beneath. It took a few minutes and the breaking of another droplet before the correct neurones fired to inform the mind that somewhere a tap was dripping. Granted that the sound could have had some other origin but he had always been a family man and, even now, he associated that noise with fetching his tools to tighten the faucet. It would be shortly after he’d returned from his last tour, not the first night, that was not a night for thinking on chores, not with his Molly lying beside him, but in that first week. He would be lying in bed, the softness of his wife within the cradle of his arm, and he would hear that sound.
”Tap’s dripping again.” He would say, and Molly would inform him that it had been that way for the past two months or so. ”I’ll get right on it in the morning.” He’d assure her and she wouldn’t reply because she knew that he would.

The memories kissed him sweetly and slipped cruelly away, dragging the fragments of slumber slowly with them. The pool of messages delivered by his senses began to trickle in through the ever growing gaps. The dryness in his mouth was first in the queue, a curious thing when all was considered. Had he precognition he might not have taken the time to suck saliva from his cheeks nor lick his lips. He was informed next of the prickling in his knees, and the cold breeze which whipped across them. It was an automatic response to try and draw them into the warmth that encompassed the rest of his body. Here, however, he encountered a problem in discovering his space was restricted, his back pressed against something smooth and solid, the balls of his feet in the same predicament. This was certainly not his bed. The wash of water as he tried to move only further confirmed this to him.

The last remnants of oblivious sleep were torn away and a barrage of information assaulted him. The chill on his bald head, the tickling of water on the back of his neck, the moisture on the air that he drew in and the slight metallic taint on his tongue. This last clue was the killer; it chuckled as it danced away with his ignorance and reminded him who he was. Jimmy squeezed his eyelids tightly together, pleading denial, before slowly peeling them open. A red, weeping handprint on a pure white tile. The image held a sense of foreboding which raised its voice in harmony with the gap in his recollection to beg him to close his eyes again. However he’d already been gripped by that too familiar fascination, the one that, shamefully by side effect, had him keep count of his sins over the explosive years. It was within this fascination’s grasp in which he lowered his muddy brown eyes to the pink water in which he lay.

Cutting off a curse he seized the sides of the tub and damn near leapt from the water, seizing the basin as he landed on the tiles to prevent himself slipping on the greased surface. He didn’t need to puzzle over what had dyed the water, he knew with a certainty that it was the same substance which marked the wall and slicked the surface beneath his feet. It was the taste of which that had roused him. Shuddering, from more than the cold, Jimmy tried not to think about what was coating his body and instead seized a white towel from the silver rack on the wall, wrapping it around himself. It was not without recognising the irony that he unlocked the bathroom door before turning the knob and stepping out into the hallway.

He found himself beside the front door and the temptation was there to run from the room in nothing but his towel. However the suspicions that would arouse were unlikely to yield a positive outcome, it was therefore best he found some clothes. If he satisfied the nagging curiosity at the same time then so be it, he refused to admit it was the primary concern. There was a wide arch before him which led, from what he could see of the sofa, to a sitting room, however from here it appeared to be empty and the deathly quiet seemed to confirm it. Tread soft; though he was unsure as to why, he instead first crept to the door to his right. It rested ajar, inviting him, it was an invitation he did not trust, not least for the silence inside his head, but one which he could not resist.

Pushing the door gently open his eyes were immediately drawn to the pale figure stretched across the bed. He retreated sharply, finding the corner beside the door and leaning into it, fighting back the gag reflex. He’d seen worse scenes before but he’d always been a spectator at the preshow, they’d not held the same shock effect. A faint ding shattered his stupor and he looked up sharply to the front door as he heard voices beyond it. He was in a hotel. How hadn’t they heard? He knew had much Hyde loved to hear them scream. Pushing away from the wall he turned and looked once more through the door, this time with more pity than revulsion. She must have been gagged. The least he could do was cut her loose.

Striding through to the sitting room with purpose he had to admit the second victim caught him by surprise. He came to a sudden halt, staring at the corpse tied to a chair in the centre of the room. At least he assumed it was a corpse, the amount of blood soaking into the carpet around it seemed to suggest as much. A knife lying within the perimeter of the pool caught his attention which was immediately stolen by the arrangement of extremities beside it. Jimmy had screamed a good many times as a grown man, but not in a number of years. He had started to think he was completely desensitised to situations like this, it was almost a relief to discover he was not as he choked on the scream to keep it down with the bile that was once again threatening to rise. Prying his eyes from the gruesome, smiling face he paced slowly over to the man, he now knew without doubt that this victim had been male, though he’d assumed as much from the fact he wasn’t naked. Despite a lack of any other boundaries Hyde was distinctly homophobic.

Plucking the knife from the floor he backed away several paces before spinning round and returning quickly to the bedroom. With apprehension in his throat he walked hesitantly to the bed and reached out to touch a bare ankle, relieved to find it frigid cold. He cut the rough rope and curled the corpse on its side, peeling the tape away from the mouth, all the time trying not to look at what had been done. His worthless act of charity complete he found his clothes folded unusually neatly on the dresser and dressed with mounting anger at the silence in his head. He didn’t know how the bastard had done this but he had no doubt it was him.

He closed the hotel room door firmly behind him and strode briskly to the elevator, jabbing at the button with venom. The doors pinged open a second later and Jimmy stepped inside. As he turned to face the door he caught the eyes of a gentleman hurrying to catch the door and shook his head slowly. The faltering in the suited man’s step at this sight was enough for the door to slide closed, leaving Jimmy in solitude. It seemed he found himself on the 18th floor of a quite fancy hotel. This assumption had been arrived at from the standard of the rooms, the apparent calibre of the man he’d seen and the pretentious

sound the lift made. In his jeans, army issue boots and leather jacket Jimmy must have looked rather out of place. God knows how he’d got in.

As the lift glided downwards their hand reached inside of the jacket and pulled out the tin always kept there, with increasing urgency a roll up was retrieved from inside of it and placed swiftly between their lips, a muffled bang inside the shelter of their hands lighting it with minimum fuss.
”You are still there then.” He mumbled before they drew in a deep, burning breath and held it until the elevator doors opened. He stepped out into the lobby and strode across with hurried steps toward the door.
”Excuse me sir, you can’t smoke in here.” Jimmy held up a hand to the disapproving voice and a moment later they passed out of the front doors, taking a right.

’Bike keys are in our pocket.’ Gritting their teeth Jimmy pinched the cigarettes between his thumb and forefinger, blowing out a plume of smoke.
”Maybe you can tell me something I don’t already know, like where the f*ck*ng bike is, or why the hell I don’t remember where the f*ck I am.” He scowled at a passing woman who was looking at them like they were insane. Fancy that.
’Did J get a bit of a nasty surprise?’ The mocking tones were there but weak and there was a nervousness beneath it which sent chills down their spine. Hyde never sounded nervous.
”You think this is funny? It’s not a joke! What the f*ck did you do?!” They’d come to a standstill in the middle of the sidewalk and were drawing more than the one look now. With a gentle prodding from his mind he began to walk again.
’It wasn’t me J.’

Jimmy laughed; a choking, humourless chuckle which rattled with the revenge of a thousand cigarettes.
’Try another one; I know your handiwork when I see it.’
’I know it looked like me, I think it was meant to… I don’t remember it either… I think we were framed.’ This time there was no helping it. They stopped again and bent over double, choking a laughing at the same time, their throat aching.
’We’ve been branded a f*ck*ng terrorist, they’ve got more evidence against us then f*ck*ng Osama! Why would anyone want to frame us?”
’That’s selfish thinking J,’ His alter ego mocked, ’think about it, maybe we’re covering up someone else’s crime?” He did think about it. Hyde couldn’t hide anything from him for long, they were in each others head. What he was saying was true.

’So what then, what do we care, just one more crime.’
’You’re not looking the whole picture…’
’Welcome back doc.’ The sarcasm was worth of Snark.
’What you should be asking is not who did it but why we don’t remember.’ They turned into the carpark at the end of the road.
’You reckon they drugged us?’
’Or something else, people explode, fly, make ghosts of themselves, why not take memories too?’ They stopped in front of a familiar red bike.
’So we should find out who did it?’ They nodded.
’Before they do it again.’


Rubble crunched beneath heavy black boots, grinding like broken bones. Danko came to a halt on the edge of the plot which used to boast the towering structure of Building 26. However the skyline had been altered, deprived of the once solid block which instead lay broken at the soldier’s feet, a pile of twisted metal, fractured stone and shattered glass, spreading out from the crippled foundations. Few bodies lay in the ruin, buried deep and unquestionably deceased, most had time to escape. It was a pity; at the very least this could have been a convenient disposal rather than a total waste. No one but conspiracy nuts would even dare consider that this destruction could have been the fault of the government, not when ‘terrorists’ were involved. The common enemy united the people; unfortunately they were unaware of the true threat. Though in his mind terrorists and these ‘evolved humans’ were not two separate things so it made little difference. Unfortunately the freaks had not only instigated the attack, they had also facilitated the escape of the rest of their kind who were imprisoned there. It left few mercies for Emile.

People swarmed over the wreck, dogs sniffing for life amid the corpses. Danko was a single stationary figure amongst the rescue effort; it held little meaning to him now. He felt very much like the Captain who should have gone down with his ship. He should have defended the headquarters to the end, been there when the explosion tore through it and reduced it to dust. But he hadn’t been, he’d not been there at all, he’d rushed back at the news of the assault only to find the smoking carcass, the clean up already beginning. It wasn’t just a matter of the skip and the diggers which rumbled past, the government were trying to make out like the whole operation had never existed. They’d tried to tackle the mutant threat with kid gloves and red tape, ignoring his warnings. Then when the freaks bit back the bureaucrats ran scared like they always did. Abandoning their troops to their own accountability whilst they tried to make the big scary problem disappear.

The whole thing had been an embarrassment. It turned out the figurehead of the operation not only had a family full of them but he was one himself. Danko knew there had been a reason he’d never really trusted the man. What sort of conspiracy was this anyway?! Danko was all that was left now, last man standing. The politicians would probably want him to vanish too. Well he would, before they could get to him. Whether they would just demand a signature or use a more definitive method to ensure his silence, he wasn’t planning on making it easy for them. He’d had enough of being under the government’s thumb, having them watch and criticise his every move. They didn’t seem to realise that only when he did things his way was any progress made. It was because of him that they’d captured all those ‘special’ people. It was because of the government they’d been alive to be freed and cause this destruction.

That was why this time he was going to do it all his way. He wasn’t going to shuffled back off into the shadows and be forgotten, he didn’t have anything to go back to. Not only had they taken his family but now they had taken his career. He doubted he would going to be given any position of authority in the services following this fiasco, and arguing about whose fault it was wasn’t going to change that. No, he was on his own now; it was just him and his vendetta. He’d gotten so close to what he wanted, getting rid of those freaks, he’d even thought the government was on his side. They’d given him finances, effective weapons and men, good men who’d lost their lives to this cause. Well now he was going to make use of all that, there were survivors, there were supplies at the warehouse, he had even made it a priority to withdraw the cash before they took it back. And best of all there was the laptop, the laptop to which he’d downloaded their database, just in case…

A smile crawled across his pale face as he turned his back on Building 26 and strode away, rucksack on his back and case tucked under his arm. This was when it began.


It was a room which uninvited. The blank walls stared at him accusingly, the smell of drying, white paint suggesting a cover up. The grey curtains across the window cast a suspicious light over his activities, occasional breezes through the crack he’d left it open stirring them to intrude chimes of warming sunlight into the cold room. Paying them no mind Emile sat crossed legged on the hard, rough floorboards. It was unusual pose, one that reminded him of a childhood long since lost, of school days and Chinese burns. That he could still adopt the position was somewhat of a comfort however, the years had not yet caught up to him. It was not for nostalgia or sense of achievement for which he took up this pose mind you; the simple explanation was that there was not yet any furniture in the three room apartment. With the exception of the bathroom it was bare, no fridge nor table, no wardrobe or bed. Just a sleeping bag in the corner of one room, a couple of bags, empty paints tins and rollers and the laptop on the floor in front of him.

Even for Danko this could not really be considered an abode. He was not a man who insisted on many luxuries but even he could not pretend this was a suitable place to live. The advantage of it had been that the landlord took his false name, measly amounts of rent and swore on his mother’s life that ‘there ain’t no rats.’ In exchange the soldier had received this blank canvas with what had previously been a filth ridden bathroom, a floor you could black your face with and walls suffering a severe case of floral wallpaper. He had cured that within a 24 hours hard labour however and was now satisfied with the multiple exits from the room, the vantage point over the street below and the secluded location. All he needed to do was furnish it with a mattress, a couple of desks, chairs, whiteboards and one hell of a lot of pins. It would have been nice to obtain a fridge and a stove however the budget had to be saved as much as possible and they weren’t essentials.

As the laptop finished loading Danko returned his attention to the bright screen, at least this place had electricity and plug sockets not deemed a health hazard. Launching a data storage program he had stolen from the government (they could consider it his payoff) his fingers hovered over the keyboard. He longed to begin tracking them down, picking them off one by one. But he knew he wasn’t ready, no doubt he could get a few of them but he wasn’t looking for the scraps, he wanted the big fish, Sylar, the Petrellis. He typed in a name from his memory and stabbed at the enter button, the green and black immediately bringing up all the information he could require alongside a picture of the man who’d been occupying his thoughts almost as often as those freaks nowadays. The Building 26 database had not just held the contents of all Mr Bennet’s ‘Company’ files, the Homeland Security employment records were here too and they were a perfect place to start when seeking out recruitment.

This particular individual had caught Danko’s eye from the very start for the promise he’d shown. He’d had a career that came with warning tags, use of excessive force and risk taking were tagged in his private file, for Danko these were the ear marks of a good agent. It suggested that the man would do anything to get the job done. On top of this, and the reason he’d originally requested the man for Bulding 26, this individual had learnt of specials before the project began. It was an impressive accolade to have taken down a pyrokinetic singlehandedly with nothing but a fire extinguisher and a garden hose. The thought of it brought a grim smile to Danko’s face. During his time working under Danko he’d continued to impress, being part of one of the most successful teams and one of the few who had failed to bring in all of their suspects alive. How convenient it had been to put their deaths down to ‘resisting arrest’. There was an address beneath the name and a couple of phone numbers and known email addresses. It was a shame that the man had died but Danko had always considered his death had been a little too certain considering the lack of a body...

He pulled up his email and typed a simple message.
'ND. Job? ED'


The apartment was beginning to take shape, it didn’t quite have that official ring to it yet but that would come with time, information gathering and some squiggles on the whiteboards. There were 3 whiteboards in total; two large ones along the longest wall, positioned end to end and another smaller one on the wall opposite. The rest of the wall space was swiftly being covering, revealing the reason he’d used the cheapest paint he could find since very soon it would not be visible. A large map was the biggest and brightest feature; it focussed purely on the U.S. for now, though transcending international borders certainly wasn’t off the table. The pins had already started going in; each had a number which corresponded to those on the wall opposite the window, where the front door was. This was the ‘messiest’ of the walls, though the order to the chaos of pictures and papers was obvious. Beside each number was a picture of a target, their basic details and a list of their known locations and contacts. The scattering of documents on the floor at its foot made it clear that it was a work in progress, though there were already many faces.

The click of a lock drew the attention to the door and held it as the noise was followed by the disengaging of a multitude of different security measures. Danko was under no pretence that the door would stop even half the people he was going up against, they’d probably just go through the wall, but if it stopped the other half, the local thugs and any intruding authorities then it was good enough. He stepped inside his apartment with a grocery bag tucked under one arm, key held in the other. The door was swiftly kicked shut behind him with a heavy boot and he left the shopping bag on the floor in order to turn the various keys and draw across multiple bolts. It was a nice heavy door, and since he’d reinforced the hinges on the other side he knew it would pose more than a pickle for anyone normal trying to break in. They would be better off coming in through the windows, though unless they could fly, unfortunately a very real possibility, they would have trouble on that front, Danko’s escape route was for getting out, not in.

The room secure the Hunter retrieved his shopping, the weight of which seemed to give him a surprising amount of difficulty, and carried it over to one of the desks against the wall near the window. To his left was the door into the small but functional bathroom, to his right the bedroom, it almost earned this name now, having benefitted from the addition of a mattress. As he’d left them both doors were shut. His laptop was already set up on the desk nearest his bedroom, the screen blank but a little green light blinking, it was on this same desk that he had set down the bag. Tucking his keys into the pocket of his leather jacket he moved to the window, parting the newly instated blind in order to peer down at the street below. His hard gaze tracked a single passerby out of sight before he withdrew and turned his attention back to the groceries.

Reaching into the bag he pulled out a banana and an apple, both of which were placed on the desk for absence of a fruit bowl. Reaching back in he pulled out a Glock handgun, more than a few cartridges, and a silencer which took their places next to the fruit. Next emerged plastic wrapped sandwiches, claiming to be ‘Fresh BLT’, which were followed by a carton of orange juice and a random tin of baked beans. The bag was folded and carried to the bedroom along with the firearm and paraphernalia. It had been incredibly easy to get hold of this particular item without having to fill in any paperwork, and far easier to conceal than some of his recent purchases. The bedroom into which Danko stepped was unlike any other. It too had a window on the wall to the left of the door. The other two were paint blank white but were far from featureless.

Secured to two of the four walls were black hooks, at present they were sporadic, though there was a pile of unfasten ones in the corner. Upon these hooks rested Danko’s numerous acquisitions. Handguns, shotguns, rifles and Building 26 specials, though pride of place was the sniper rifle he’d managed to get his hands on. The collection was far from complete; he was yet to obtain those military babies. He was on the right track however, his counter terrorist work coming in handy since it was the arms dealers who sold to the very people he’d once hunted who he was hoping to trade with. The notion did somewhat turn his stomach; they were scum, betraying their own country for greed. However priorities had to be kept in mind and in his those he was tracking posed far more of a threat than any man with a bomb.

After placing the new find into its cradle on the wall he moved back through to the other room and sat on the hard backed chair in front of his laptop. Before he’d been interrupted by his ‘meeting’ he’d been tracking down the next potential member of his team. Unlike Donovan this man, to his knowledge, had never before encountered specials, he’d not been a part of the Building 26 fiasco, it was doubtful he even knew about it. He was known to Danko through reputation and a brief encounter about 6 years ago during a counter-terrorism operation. Though on the same side they were with different organisations, this man was CIA whereas Danko had already been Homeland Security. He’d come across as a focussed and determined individual with an impressive kill record. He’d been one of the people considered when recruiting had taken place for Building 26, however, according to government intelligence, the man had since gone into mercenary work. This wasn’t looked upon well and the government was in fact attempting to gather evidence against him, though thus far they seemed to have been unsuccessful at even tracking him down.

Unpeeling the banana Danko typed in the password to his computer with one hand, revealing the same page he’d been regarding before. It was a news story (admittedly the channel to which the site and story belonged was not particularly esteemed, he’d never even heard of ‘Making Headlines!’) about a criminal who had been murdered following his escape from justice due to a technicality. There was no doubt in anybodies mind that he’d been guilty of the murder of that woman and her daughter and there was no doubt in Danko’s that the father had been responsible for the alternative form of justice. However he didn’t think he’d done it himself, it had been too clean, professional. What had really drawn his attention however was the speculation Making Headlines! had made. They claimed that the killer had been seen walking away from the scene and that he’d been wearing a distinctive pair of tinted sunglasses. The claim seemed entirely baseless but the description of the glasses was very familiar and right now it was all Danko had to go on. The crime had taken place that very morning. If Jaiden Alexander had been responsible then Danko knew just where to find him.


It was with some easing of tension that Danko had swept away the fine, undisturbed powder at the foot of his door and beneath the windows. He couldn't help thinking that they were going to find him, and by them he referred to the sort of people who could have flown up to the 4th floor his apartment occupied. There was no plausible way that they could know he was here; no one knew where he was, but these people weren’t plausible. They broke all the rules, they were unnatural, abominations. No one was safe from them, not even their Hunter, the knowledge kept him on his toes. He almost hoped they would find him, however, Donovan had reminded him how sweet revenge could be and he was impatient to continue his task. But it was important he tracked them down, not the other way round, since the predator could so easily become the prey.

Depositing the dust in a bin bag beneath a desk he swept his eyes over the new layout of his apartment turned headquarters. He had decided that the old arrangement was too open and inefficient. He’d purchased a stand alone board to free a wall from the map and removed one of the whiteboards, moving the two that remained to the opposite wall and positioning the map to face them, enclosing a workspace off to one side of the front door. Behind the map and opposite the door a block of filing cabinets, stuff with files on dangerous individuals, parted the room. They were high enough to offer protection to those behind him but not so much that aim couldn’t be taken over them, should it come to that. Throughout the room there were clear lines to the escape routes and also clear work areas. The enclosed space to the left of the door for instance was perfect for planning, the map on one side, the wall of targets on another and the two blank surfaces for notes and plans to be scrawled.

Very soon the room would be cramped, full of lethal weapons with dark intentions. The three prize members of his team – Alexander, Donovan & Virtanen – had been recruited and now Danko had filled up the other positions. He’d needed a force small enough to go unnoticed but large enough to pose a credible threat to the population of those freaks. Five further agents brought their numbers up to 9, an acceptable number. His starting point had been the surviving agents of Building 26, many of them had unfinished business with the species which had killed their friends and brought failure upon them. Two of the team – Collins & Thompson – were ex B26, Scott was ex FBI and Garcia & Richardos were mercenary types from much shadier origins. All of them had demonstrated their expertise in the field and they all appreciated the nature of the threat they were facing. The last thing Danko wanted was a man at his back hesitating to shoot.

In comparison, to finding the first three, the other members of his team had been simple to track down. However the extra time he’d spent on Alexander, Donovan & Virtanen had been worth it. Although a bit lippy at times Alexander was usually incredibly professional, he’d accepted the existence of specials very quickly and with some firm direction had also acknowledged his position in the group below Danko. He had confidence that Alexander could lead one of the small taskforces he would be sending out. Donovan was a contrast; although he did seem to love the sound of his own voice he didn’t make the same attempts to get chummy. He was probably the most passionate of the team, his dedication to the eradication of mutants possibly matching Danko’s own. This was the man he’d trust above any other to get the job done; moral conflicts were not an issue. Virtanen was again unique. He was far more volatile than the others but he too had passion, whereas Donovan’s would ensure they never gave up Virtanen would keep them moving a pace. His anger burnt as fiercely as his new leader’s.

Overall it was a formidable group, soon to be a close knit unit. The weaknesses of Building 26 had been hewn away to leave this lean force which had no boundaries or restrictions. There were no lengths to which they would not go to protect their country and eradicate the threat. Smiling at this thought The Hunter stepped through into the bedroom turned arms room and lifted a handgun from the wall. He took his time to load it, looking through the slits in the blind as he did so. They were out there and they had no idea what was coming for them.


Dyson turned again onto his side, restless with a mind far too busy for sleep. The normal snores from different beds reminded him clearly where he was and why, not a happy thing to remember at any time. The week had been busy as hell, with lots of stuff happening, and several major surprises. Foremost was the discovery there were others who had powers, although far more powerful then his own. Knowing they existed was difficult enough a concept to get his mind wrapped around, more so since he had always thought of himself as a solitary freak, a loner. Ever since he had first discovered that others could not read the world around them he had been different. He had gotten used to playing by himself before he had learned to hide his abilities and it was several orphanages before he got good at it, moved by financial issues at different places. The current situation was one in a long series of different places, fortunately this one near a beach for one. Surfing was one of those few places his ability was fairly quiet as the sand reset itself with the tides and the ocean gave him no reading at all. It was as close to freedom as he got with his skin; he fervently hoped one day he would be able to learn to shut off that particular ability.

A snort in his sleep from Evans in the next bed reminded him again of how different he was from normal kids.

Second with the discovery of others was the discovery there were many of them out there and they were being hunted down. Not a comfortable thought at all. In addition, he had found one on his own, or she had found him, and learned from her clothing's memories the others which she knew about and now he did as well. She was formidable as well and it left him wondering how anyone could jail them all, with so many different skills as it seemed there were. Would they even try to contain his ability or just leave him in a cell if they caught him to read the helplessness and hopeless feelings of those before him? He shuddered and tried turning onto his front side, arms under his pillow cradling it around the side of his face. Dyson had hidden his powers as well for so long because he was afraid of other's reactions and what they might do; it seemed he had been right in that assessment. Being jailed and kept as a freak because he could do something others couldn't, well, it hardly seemed fair for his life to be so full of variation. Through the door top where the glass was, he saw the light approaching and closed his eyes down to slits before the light stopped at the door and he heard the keys being slid into the lock. He closed his eyes as the old man made came in and walked the length of the room, checking all sixty kids were in their beds as was his nighttime routine. He had never wavered in his time in the years Dy had been here which made him easy to avoid, the old fool. As he left Dyson smiled silently, remembering so many close calls he had had over the years. It was barely eleven and he wouldn't be back again till nearly dawn, plenty of time for Dyson's normal working hours, but not tonight. He had far too much to think about that was for sure. Especially the most shocking event of all this week, the offer.

Jesse's offer to send him to school and take him in with an adoption had been a real shock, enough so Dyson had been astonished and agreed easily, eagerly even. The idea of family, like so many other orphans, was a powerful dream and one in which they all secretly hoped even though they knew the odds were against all of them. And having the dream become actually possible even if only with an offer had been like a ray of sunshine thought the clouds after a decade of storms. But now that he thought about it, he saw lots of problems. Frustrated with his lack of the oblivion of sleep, he rolled back onto his back again, one arm under the pillow under his head (funny enough, he couldn't sleep without having at least one arm under his pillow clutching it, who knew why) and looked up into the darkness of the ceiling. One, it was a trick to get him to tell what his other power was and he had almost fallen for that, it was true. Two, he wanted Dy under his thumb for easier control and maybe using his knowledge power to Jesse's advantage. it was true he was a reporter so it could be that way, but the man had seemed genuine. Not that Dyson was a good judge of that. Three, he was s secret abuser and was working to get Dyson to deliver himself into a type of slavery, not likely with that open face, but he had seen a lot of nasty things happen in the hood; this one was actually more likely then most things he could dream up, unfortunately.

Fourth, and probably the scariest, the offer would be withdrawn after a week or so as Jesse discovered how expensive kids were and the system for adopting them. Probably half the kids here would have been adopted a decade ago if people didn't have to pay a lot of money to adopt in the first place. There simply were not enough rich people who were willing to take in kids who desperately needed the support of family. And those who had the money always adopted outside the US cause it was cheaper and they thought the kids lived in worse situations. Truthfully, those were better advertised, but it was the kids in the US who ended up with the short end of the stick. To be honest, Dy had always had clothes and food, not that the food was worth much nor the restrictions and raising pleasant, but he wasn''t set up to die early. Well, not until the orphanage got their full payment for raising them till eighteen and then they would be out on their ear. How many disappeared at that point he wondered sometimes? Kidnappings, prostitution, slavery, etc; there had to be a dozen disappear each year for that alone he assumed. He was sure he had seen Tomas last year in a window of a brothel; the eyes alone had made him flee without finding out more.

Fifth, he was going to lose his Independence. He liked knowing he could take care of himself and work outside the orphanage had been successful in giving him some control over his life. Would all that disappear? Wouldn't Jesse make him stop when he learned about what Dyson was doing for money? Or would he make him just cut back? Hell, just how much control did parents take on children to be real? He had no idea, not a clue. His best friend Becca certainly seemed to have few restraints from her parents, but she was also the only cool girl he knew. So many of the others were make-up fascinated and clothes horses, just counting down the days till they got married and went off to have kids for some guy. he well remembered Becca's long rant on that subject, how girls were owned by their parents until they were given to a boy who would run their lives later as well. She had been rather vocal about that entire discussion and he hesitated to speak at all that time. besides, how would he know he would be any different? Up till now he had figured he was going to end up a criminal living on the streets and taking whatever he could get. Although, remembering the prostitiues' bra and the memories it contained he knew he would never be that abusive, never that cruel. it wasn't his nature for one and for another he had been horrified at what he had learned. On that day he had entirely sided with her on that subject.

For a moment, distracted, he fantasized about her falling in love with him and he whisking them off to... and that was where the dream fell apart. he didn't know what she would want nor what would be better for either of them, not that she had shown an interest in trusting him to save himself much less her.

But if this whole adoption trick, how could he get the best out of it he could? By not trusting and keeping his cards close to his chest? Or by trusting that his friend actually meant well and going along with whatever the new rules would be? It was hard to trust adult to know what was actually right for you, especially after so many failed adults had been his to observe, both in and out of orphanages. How could any kid trust a parent when around every corner was some slimeball waiting to take advantage of other adults and kids alike? Look at the druggies (most barely adults themselves) hooking the innocent early on. The government certainly didn't do much to stop that and how could they anyway when another sprung up to take the place of everyone they arrested or killed. As long as he kept his account hidden (a druggie had helped him set up a false id for the bank) and played the good kid, surely he would learn which way the other shoe would fall and then he could make his own move, right? Being seemingly innocent of what was happening had to be a good disguise for that at the beginning. Not that Jesse would likely fall for it right off, but he might relax his guard enough to let Dy know what was the trick. If there was one. Which Dyson thought there must be somewhere, this was too good to be true.

An hour later he was still staring at the ceiling, trying to see the sandbag falling at his head.


Dyson sat on the roof edge, looking out across the city. There was no point at looking up at the stars; New York made far too much light at night to be able to see much except from the tallest buildings and he wasn't crawling out onto a roof on one of those. Fifteen floors was good enough, in his opinion. The sneak up was easy enough, even with locked doors. The night watchman wandered the halls and fell asleep at a desk on the first floor frequently. All Dy needed was the empty electrical plant room at the back. He had picked the lock, closed it off behind him and repeated three more times then used the stairs. It was one of the least secure buildings he knew of which was why he chose it.

For looking across the city scape, it was just fine.

Out there he knew crimes were happening as the seedier side of the city awoke and got to work, drugs, smuggling, theft, etc. Until this week he had been an active participant in all that although now he had stopped his ads and made some calls telling folks it was time for a last round. Maybe there would be a few more jobs after this week, but most likely not many more. Jesse seemed a good guy and he was going to take the chance and see what came of it. The chance at college was besides the fact; Jesse needed Dyson as well he thought, even if the older man didn't realize it. And he was going to have his own room which had been a mind-blower in itself! Jesse had told him about the place and it sounded more fantastic then Dy could imagine, even though he had seen a few apartments elsewhere, but those he had no chance of living in. In addition, his encounter with June had warned him how close he was to being caught and then there was Becca.

Becca. Now there was a problem.

Dyson had known her for years and they had become fast friends. In or out of school she was one of the coolest people he knew and they did get in trouble together in many different parts of the 'safe' side of the city. They shared secrets, had adventures, and did lots of talking. And yesterday she had blown his mind away by waking up his inner hormones which he had ignored for so long and had really done a number on him. The worst part was she didn't seem to realize how much she had gotten to him, only teasingly calling him a 'perv.' She had even taken his revealing of power as cool and a fun idea, not realizing how much it had played a factor in causing his current confusion. After all, he didn't want to lose his best friend in any way, he had no replacements really anyway.

But he was fairly sure you were not supposed to dream up pulling your best friend into a closet to have sex either.

Not the weird twisted sex he had seen through his hands (which was finally fading from his nightmares) nor what the guys talked about in the gym class or the locker room. Most of that stuff was a mix of violence, trickery, and scoring. If he ever had a chance with Becca, certainly no one else would ever hear about it, that was for sure. But yesterday on the surfboard she had made him see her for once in a new light. He had come so close to telling her how beautiful she was, but had wisely bitten his lip instead. And she was, although she probably wouldn't believe him if he did get up the guts to tell her. For years had been around her delighting in her distractions and enjoying the romps and he had never realized as she grew that she was a woman worthy of notice. Their mutual changes had happened so gradually he had woken up yesterday to quite a surprise; her eyes so full of mischief were attractive now, her hair filled with colors he wanted to run a hand through, and her skin was covered with little scars from the past which he found himself wanting to learn the stories from.

Gods, he couldn't believe how stupid he had been all this time. And now he wanted to act like a fool for some reason unexplained and risk losing his friendship with her over... hormones. Softly he banged his head against the roof vent's brick encasement. No, he would get control. 'Yeah right' he thought 'Like you have control over other things so well, like your power.' "Gah...maybe she won't notice and think it's just my power distracting me." Arguing with yourself had one major flaw; you could never win. 'Oh right, she'll never see the sweaty palms and constantly brushing against her arm. No, you're right, she will never notice. Idiot.' Softly he began to bang his head against the brick again with a despairing look, wondering how he was going to get through the next few weeks.

No, he didn't want something momentary. He wanted the long drawn out seduction, the night on the beach in the sand eating and laughing and then that moment of silence before they kissed, when they each knew it was going to happen. He remembered reading about it in english class for one of their assignments (while mostly the kids rolled their eyes and laughed and made inappropriate comments that made everyone laugh more) and it had sounded silly at the time. Now he wasn't so sure. When he thought about her lips and what they must taste like.... Quickly he stood and walked around the roof fast, trying to get his mind back under his control. "Damnit, hell shit mother...." he went on for a few trying to distract himself and gain some measure of control over his mind. He couldn't do it, couldn't. Risking his friendship with her would be too much, he wouldn't be able to stand it. She meant far too much to Dy to risk it, he'd just have to find a way somehow to stop himself.

Especially since she wasn't interested. She'd cut him off in a second if he did something to make her uncomfortable.


A ferret wandering. Looks in holes. Drinks from a little stream. Eats a bug. Runs from a snake, swims in across a stream to escape.

The ferret enters an old basement vent. Searches. Finds a collapsed corner blocking a little tunnel. Goes out and drags back part of an old rotten blanket and some bugs. Eats, curls up and sleeps.

Playing in the leaves, throwing them around. Hears noise and climbs up a tree to watch out of sight. Sees old snake coming, flees unseen.

Ferret on a roof beam. Watches humans laughing and eating. When they fell asleep, he scampers down and eats from a plate. Drags off chicken leg to hole.

Ferret wakes in cage, trapped. Carried off to truck and taken away. No exit from cage, panic.



Dyson awoke to darkness, but smelled the mustiness which was the boy's dorm and didn't panic. He was in his bed sprawled as normal along his length, hearing the occasional snore down the row. The beds were pushed up against each other like normal, with just enough space between them to weave between the maze of them to the bathroom which is what he did, staggering in the dark by feel, running his shins against blankets while he rubbed his eyes. He wore only the pj bottoms they gave them, hating the feel of a shirt when he slept; the few times he had tried he had woken with lines across his body which irritated him for hours and he didn't need that, not to mention how bad he slept when they got tangled around him. The cold floor of the community restroom space woke up his feet with images of hours earlier and the naked towel fight he had missed. Wincing at some of the hits some had taken with the wet towel ends (a sharp snap which stung as he remembered) he chuckled at some of the yelps as he made his way to the sinks, not needing lights at all even in the pitch black darkness.

It was funny; he couldn't see his hand in front of him, but the mirror's sight told him how ruffled his hair was and how sleepy he really looked without opening his eyes. He poured water and waited for it to clear of rust for a minute, and then dipped two hands in the frigid water and splashed it in his face, wiping his eyes in particular. It took less then half a second to wake up with that, the icy water making his face burn with reaction at the suddenness. What was left of the dream was already fading, but left him very confused. For some reason it was almost like he was dreaming an old nature show they had to watch in class on the old projection screen, that ancient thing which the school wouldn't replace. Most of his classmates would have fallen asleep about half way through so why was he dreaming about one, although not one he had seen from the animals perspective it was true. He tried to think back over the day and think about animals; nope, no clues there. He knew of ferrets but couldn't remember ever seeing one except in a photo before and it had looked much larger then this one. A baby ferret? Didn't they stay with their mother or something? Or was it like him, lost and alone.

Yeah that was it, it felt right.

And now he couldn't even remember half of what he had just seen, only that it was about a ferret and it had been caught. Which was wrong of course, wild animals should be left alone in their own habitat, not ripped away from all that felt familiar and safe. Would he panic if that happened to him? Of course, anyone would. but where did the ferrets that were sold as pets come from? The wild or were they raised? Not that he knew anything about how animals were raised but he assumed you couldn't use the ferret as a pet around kids. So why take it after all that? He felt a chill as he remembered what one teacher had told them about that naturalist groups which objected because some companies tested on animals their products before giving them to the market to sell. They wouldn't need tame animals if they were just shooting them up with drugs and stuff.

Dy stepped to the toilet and got one of the paper covers which had been set aside for little Timmy who was allergic to almost everything, poor kid. One of these days he was going to die suddenly and everyone would be sorry but not very surprised either. But the sheets meant Dy didn't have to read the toilet seat and for that he was truly grateful for little Timmy's allergies. When he was done he stepped back to the mirror and washed his hands before wondering what time it was. There were few windows in the building and fewer clocks, but he had learned to compensate. Stepping back into the dorm he listened this time to what his feet told him which he had ignored earlier. The door had been opened and the night man had checked beds already twice, which meant it must be close to dawn. He glanced at the end of the hall for the one small window he often used to escape this place he had been regulated to and judged the light on it. Dawn couldn't be far away actually, might as well use the hot water now while he could.

Making his way back through the beds, he found his and bent down painfully between the beds trying not to jostle them or make much noise. He grabbed his towel off his locker top and the underwear which he had left out and moved more confidently between the beds back to the restroom. Turning right this time he made his way to the far end showers, the ones where the noise would be least likely to filter out to the sleepers, and chose a stall, hanging his stuff on the hook. Pulling off the bottom he tossed them on the last hook and leaned in, turning on the water careful not to get splashed. While the water ran, he did a few push ups on the floor, a few chin ups on the shower rod (which was set in stone it being a very old building), and a few stretches of his hams against the wall; it helped his body wake up and was good for him. Now he reached in and felt the water, snatched his hand away, and adjusted the knob; way too freaking hot! It took another six adjustments before it wasn't either totally scalding or freezing cold and when he had settled on mildly uncomfortable he stepped in.

Soap and shampoo were like everything here in bulk and the huge bottles of the liquid stuff were hung on the walls of the stalls. He did his hair first with shampoo, working hard to get a bubble. The stuff was extra cheap and barely did a good job and getting any lather was a challenge, but one he set himself every time to see if a bubble would be possible this time and leaning on the shower wall for sight until he could see one form. Successful in at least one small part of his life, he used the rest of the shampoo on his chest, under arms (as he hoped it cut down the smell at least some), and crotch before going for the soap itself. If he didn't smell clean, he would be sent back before breakfast and that was one huge pain in the butt so he overdid it every time now just to be sure. Did ferrets bath? The question in his mind caught him off guard and he stopped, one foot up on the wall so he could wash his lower legs and leaning forward, halted in mid movement. What an odd thought... But a good one. Did they lick themselves like cats, roll in dirt like horses, or actually get in running water? Puzzled, it was a moment before he gave up and went back to his scrub down before the water started to change again.

And it almost did change to another temp before he got done rinsing, running a finger over his teeth since he had forgotten his toothbrush in the shower again. Cups in a boy's dorm were not to be trusted and keeping them out of sight when you had one was important, one of those little things girls didn't have to think of. Mildly jealous of the freedom not to have to guard your every scrap, Dyson stepped to the curtain side and shut off the water, leaning against the wall while the water rinsed away running down his body in a hurry to escape like little ants. He stayed there air drying at least two minutes, feeling it was better for the water to go off somewhere else then into his towel and then got his towel to begin a very thorough rub down of all his parts and places, hating the sticky feeling of clothing on your skin when you could do something about it. Running his hands through his hair since he didn't own a comb, he slipped into the grey underwear and undershirt provided and went out carrying his stuff.

At one point he realized he was leaving wet foot prints and stopped long enough to step on his towel and dry them off before continuing to the dorm, hearing the sounds of people waking up slowly. Quick as a wink he ferreted--- and stopped mentally as he continued on automatic, wondering why that word was in his head again. Was this going to continue all day? If so, maybe he should have had the nickname 'Ferret' instead of 'Ghost' on the street. With a soft laugh, Dyson began to dress for his day, wondering what other oddities might fill it up.


There were four deaths, both accidental and not. The first one Dyson experienced was pretty horrible, not that any death was pretty. In this one he saw the water girl, who seemed to have some odd body chemistry, was injected with the sedation stuff by the doctor which he told her, so Dyson knew what it was. The man was obviously surprised when she began literally burning up, becoming not only hot to the touch, but her body boiling, fluids running from her skin and her heart pounding, until it burst and then she laid there, her eyes sightless as her skin began to shrivel as it dehydrated despite the Doctor's stunned attempts to do... anything. It was obvious it had been an accident, but that didn't stop Dyson from being revolted when the man moved her to a table and began taking her apart with a knife, trying to find the answers he sought. Watching someone be dissected by a rather impersonal man was quite a new disturbing experience for him. And watch it he had to until the body was wheeled away out of range thank goodness.

The second death was much more on purpose. It was a young boy, maybe ten years old and he was angry and scared and frightened. He had also been sedated and was managing somehow to burn it off, getting more active in trying to get free. This time the Doctor was wearing some heavy suit and a hood and someone else was there as well. While the Doctor took samples (and Dy winced big time at the pain he could understand) while whoever the other person was stood over the boy and watched him carefully, a large syringe in his hands. He also had some odd device which kept making clicking sounds as he kept the end pointed at the boy. As he got more frightened, or maybe the pain got to him more, the clicking increased dramatically and a glow came from the boy's eyes. Quickly the Doctor jumped back as the other man (he assumed) jammed the needle into the boy's neck and pressed the plunger all the way down fast. The boy's chest heaved against his restraints as his eyes went back up into his head and the glow cut off as his heart burst in his chest as well, falling back onto the couch quite lifeless. Neither man would approach him until the clicking died down some and then Dy watched another dissection, more horrible in a way because the boy appeared like any other person. And scarier since he was close to Dy's age and they seemed to not care one more then any other victim.

The third death was probably counted as a suicide, but it would be hard to say. It was a large man, extra straps from the back of the couch holding him firmly down. The Doctor was being extra careful which told Dyson he was particularly dangerous. The man tried to get the Doctor to respond to his threats his accusations, but he was being cagey and not speaking back to the man's words, only telling him to show his powers. He had gone to get another syringe, obviously intending to force the man to do stuff and when he had gotten closer was when he had struck. With a mighty heave, he threw himself so hard against the straps, the couch had jumped with him and he had come down on the Doctor's foot, jamming his head at the man and plunging the needle directly into his eye and into his brain, killing him instantly as the doctor threw his arm up in pain reaction and the stopped squirted it's cargo directly into the brain itself. The scene made Dyson throw up just seeing it again in his eye, forgetting how powerful the image had been. It again was followed by a dissection, although by now Dyson wasn't nearly as effected by those as he had been. It was still gross as hell.

The fourth was the worst nightmare of all.

Dyson saw the woman strapped down to the couch and knew with sickening sureness this was going to be bad. He saw the Doctor leave the room and another man enter a few moments later. The man had a glint in his eye which was rather frightening and the very first thing he did was walk to the woman and as she started to say something, he shoved a cloth in her mouth and then tied a gag over it. Without wasting any time, he picked up a scalpel from another table and a collection tray bringing them over and began cutting into her middle chest without any kind of drug or warning. She threw herself against the straps which held her firmly, preventing her escape and blood came up out of her chest while the man made the incisions larger and larger cutting through muscle and forcing her ribs aside. It was a truly horrible thing to see and Dyson felt his stomach start to try and dry heave, having already lost the thin fluid his stomach had contained earlier. The worst part is that whatever her power was, she was kept alive with it even through the pain, kept alive while he stuck his hand deeper and deeper inside of her before he began pulling out organs and putting them on the tray while she continued to jerk until he cut some last thing and her body stopped like a switch cut off.

As soon as it had begin, it was finished, He picked up the tray leaving the scalpel there on her body as he got up and walked out with the tray. The quiet that descended just brought his eyes back to her, the gaping hole in her chest wide open. About twenty minutes passed and the Doctor returned and stopped dead in the doorway, his eyes on the corpse with astonishment. He came over unable to believe what he was seeing and after a moment, he quickly took his normal samples and put them in the machine, cursing as he found the thing he sough was already lost information, unable to be returned from a dead corpse. he seemed to be more upset about the lost chance at the information then about the woman who was now no more and it hardened Dyson against the man even more so. The four separate experiences brought home to Dyson that the evolved humans were not considered human to some people, more like rats to be experimented on, taken apart to find out how they ticked. He had to disagree with what Jesse told him, about how he did not fear the Building Twenty-Six people. They represented the thing that Dyson might have feared the most; people who saw him as a freak to be cured or destroyed, never left alone. The few who had left this room in sedation and taken elsewhere he could only pray for, hoping they were not being just killed but maybe imprisoned. Knowing they might be saved after all this unreasonable tragedy was something he had to believe, to know there was a chance.

It was also one of the only things which might make him become a hero, if a limited focus one...

Feeling a bit lost, Dyson sat in front of the window of his new room, looking out at the sky lit with city lights and the traffic which passed below. Jesse's snores down the hall were not keeping him awake, but his mind was a blur of thought, unable to settle down for sleep. Most people who looked into his room would have found it oddest at night; it's clearly outdoor furniture, photo wall paper of a beach, and sand colored carpet more reminiscent of a beach then a young boy's teenage room. In fact the only thing that looked right for one his age was the picture on the opposite wall, an anime picture of a boy and girl in tight embrace, and the jeans-jacket-socks-shoes-and underwear dropped on the floor next to the closed door. Becca would have snorted seeing them as it was clearly were Dy had dropped his clothes for the next day instead of being truly a mess since the rest of the floor was spotless, but it was an attempt to be less neat.

And like so many other things in his mind tonight he felt more a failure then someone making progress.

Ever since the night after the kidnapping she had been acting a little off, like she wanted to avoid giving him a chance to tell her something serious again. Her reaction to his declaration of love had been to believe he was dreaming or stressed, although it had been the event which had convinced him not to delay any more telling her how he felt. Or at least he saw it as avoidance, but he hadn't been able to convince himself it was a coincidental thing. Since then he had felt out of sorts and not himself, not sure if he had been refused or was being avoided (at least avoided being alone with that is) despite the fact they still did stuff together all the time. He had not tried a second time since she had been more then a tad obvious about being busy when they were alone. Even when she crashed here for the night she kept him busy talking about other stuff or distracted with things she brought over until he fell asleep after which she would at some point crash as well.

Now, those evenings had stopped completely this week with the introduction of another character in the story, a boy Dyson was fairly sure Becca was completely infatuated with from her past and the key to her future as well. Nate was a total goofball of a guy, impossible to embarrass, loudly dressed in a way that even a blind person could detect, and full of more energy then a barrel of monkeys on speed. Just talking about his return at school had her bouncing in her chair with excitement and Dyson's heart had sunk so low it had surely gone through the floor by now. He had no hope of getting her to listen to him now, even if she had been willing to hear his words she couldn't sit still enough to think serious. And he was surprised how much his heart was dominating his thoughts recently. Rather more painfully then he thought hearts were supposed to feel, but maybe this was that growing up stuff all the adults insisted was so good for you.

Because of his sudden free time as the other two planned band stuff and got ready to out and start playing for audiences again he found himself accepting jobs again, pushing the edge of what he would have done before and for higher rates now as if he wanted the danger to keep himself both distracted and feeling worth while. His clients certainly wanted him around and loved his successful jobs and he found himself beginning to live a bit more for the thrill of risky stuff then normal in his life. Besides his evenings with his new father (who he was coming to love more and more) and his afternoon lessons with Claude who always found ways to push him at working his powers), the jobs had taken on new importance for him. Which was probably not a good thing.

Sitting beside him was a large ammo box, one of those old military cans where he kept special treasures that only he could read. It's lock sat beside it (Becca had been caught several times trying to get inside it to no avail he was happy to note) and the lid was open showing he had been thinking about his childhood which was a bad sign as it was not a happy time of his life. The collection was pretty odd for a boy, including a sock, bra, two toy cars, a half brick, small collection of stones, bus token, rolled up tissues, a couple of cigarette butts, and all of the many other items as well all inside plastic sandwich bags and sealed. At the moment there was a broken half a ruler (only five inches of which were still in existence) lying in front of him on the carpet out of it's bag and his index finger was on it. It was from an old discussion when he was six with one of the nuns he had been the charge of in the LA Orphanage. It was not a time he had been beaten (although there were hundreds of those on the ruler as well, most in ways he didn't 'read' much), but this one memory was about him convincing her about surfing practice. A wistful smile played across his lips as he relieved the moment, remembering how he had begged and pleaded for the time as well as promised such hard work on his grades for her.

He had learned today that his 'father' a true blue-blooded bastard, had two sons, twins by his mother who had died during child birth and her sons gone up for adoption. Jesse had been working today on the address for Dyson's aunt who was somewhere north and had promised to take him to see her. Of course, to have gotten this information Dy had to make a big decision as well, allowing the man who was his biological father to 'upgrade' one of his oldest models. It was twisted, odd concept, and definitely creepy to know the man who had created him could "improve" his son with a few hours of time and wanted to purely out of pride at his accomplishments. Sitting there with his shirt off with the man's hand on his back, Jesse hovering worried around, was ..... well he couldn't explain how odd it felt. But when he had finally stopped and announced what good health Dyson was in, he had felt....different. Better maybe, but oddly... different as if he could do more things then he had previously imagined.

For one, he smelled different. Not just his feet or his skin, but like he could smell from a distance much clearer like from across a room and tell what he was smelling. He had found that game very intriguing; was this the way a dog tracked? Standing in the doorway of Jesse's room he was able to single out objects in his room and tell which ones had a scent of a woman on them. Bizarre. And, well.... his manhood had definitely grown in size significantly and not by his imagination. Not to mention how much longer he cold stand *ahem* he changed his thoughts again not wanting to think about that particular experiment for awhile. He was sure it all counted as improvements even if he didn't know how yet. Mostly he felt odd and wanted to talk with someone who wasn't an adult, not that he could talk to bee right now but there was no one else he could. He had pretty much an eclectic group of friends and only bee could he really talk too (not that he was sure he should tell her what some of his newly suspected skills were as surely it was wrong to talk to a girl about that stuff).

The other thing was purely a secret and one Jesse hadn't been able to refuse him for wanting, although he was not allowed to get a real tattoo until he was older, somehow having gone through all of this seemed to need a reward of another kind so Dyson had taken a chance and asked the man to give him one over his shoulder back, opposite the black light one already there. It was photo perfect and quite stunning since no needles were required and it really would stand out when he went anywhere with his shirt off, not very likely but still. After all, most of the surfer guys had tattoos anyway, his first one would just be more spectacular then most people's. It was a Ghost Gecko for several reasons. One, his nickname on the street as a thief was Ghost, two geckos were charming cute creatures everyone liked, three they got into places where others could not, and fourth, he had read the totem description in the public library one time and

just.... thought it fit him in a way, it seemed right. So he had to look at it in the mirror, so what? He knew it was there, a companion on his shoulder to be company during bad times.

As surely he would have many more of.
Nameless made his way to the edge of the street and held up his hand for a taxi, having to wait a minute or so before one saw him and believed he really wanted one. It wasn't normal of course for Dy to call a taxi or a teenager to have the money for one, but this time was special. It was an excellent way of dropping Claude's surveillance of him as well which was of major importance to Dy. The man certainly knew far too much about his life and he wanted some things to be secret. He shifted his backpack and as soon as the taxi pulled up, he slipped through the door making sure to leave no room for another to even attempt entering and said quickly "Extra ten bucks if you go three blocks fast as you feel safe and keep changing roads please while I watch the back." As he said this he tossed a twenty up to the front thru the small plastic hatch.

No one said a driver didn't know when to delay and when to take advantage of the money.

As the taxi moved fast back into traffic, crossing three lanes and turning on the next street with a surge of horns about the man taking over the right of way, Nameless stayed on his knees watching intently behind and seeing nothing which made him think anyone was following nor holding on to the cab in any way. Perfect. With a feeling of satisfaction despite the rapidly turning cab Nameless turned and sat more firmly and said an address to the man for the far side of town. "As soon as you can, please, thanks. You did goo back there," getting a very curious nod from the driver. He shrugged and laughed before answering the man's obvious curiosity. "I have a snooping next door neighbor who is convinced I run drugs somehow. She's kinda off her rocker, but she was trying to follow me. She might as well get more paranoid so she can have something to talk about to her bridge club."

The man laughed and from there the conversation continued into sports results and by the time they pulled into the parking garage and went up to the eighth floor, Nameless felt comfortable the man would only remember the instance with amusement, no suspicions. After all, he was a clean cut young boy who obviously came from a nice and ritzy building (gotta love his power) so nothing wrong there. And his tip when they arrived was in keeping with the look so the man left after seeing Nameless off to the elevator saying something about meeting people. After the man was out of sight, Nameless doubled back to the freight elevator and continued up six more floors with a smile as he changed clothes completely en route. With his power on, he exited and made his way to the roof access picking the lock and quickly moving past the security cameras with his face turned away.

He had several hours still before Jesse would be home and day time jobs were touchy things, workable if you were bold enough in your approach. He crossed over three roofs, all three lower then his approach spot and then took out his rope and lasso. It took four tries to snag the vent access on the fourth roof which was above him, but he got it and slipped into a harness carefully, attaching himself to the rope and then backing up for a run. Across the roof full speed and then jumping gave him the swing momentum to make it over the rail and within jumping distance of the actual roof edge. Grabbing the drain pipe, he managed to hold himself up high enough to adjust his rope and use it like a repeling rope to get his toes on the pipe and pull/walk up enough to grab the ledge of the new roof. It was a struggle to get himself pulled up, but once he fell over the edge he was safe and on target. Catching his breath he checked his watch and saw only about a minute had passed since the taxi.

Forcing himself to get up he went and, staying low, removed his rope and went to a vent near the stair access, undoing the cut off screws he had edited a few days earlier and slipping under the top cover into a fairly small space, but at least he could see out of the slots. Slipping his stuff into his bag and removing his coat and overalls left him in a typical boy's uniform from a private school. Repacking his stuff (except the lockpicks in his sleeve) with a few school books and papers on top, he settled down as best he could to keep an eye open on the roof. The security guards were quick and careful about their approach, obviously warned by phone about a possible intruder on their roof. A careful grid soon found nothing out of place on the roof and they looked over the next one, eventually deciding out loud that the person must have continued. Cussing, they headed back inside, locking the door firmly behind them.

Excellent. So far, so good.

He took the opportunity to pull out his math notebook and continue doing problems while touching his math book. In half an hour he had most of the problems finished when he heard the helicopter approaching. Stashing his work he waited and as it got close, the door reopened and two guards came out, standing in front of the door, eyes covered against the wind. Just before the helicopter touched down, he lifted the cover and slipped out, using the approach to mask his movements to get right behind the stair well. As the helicopter doors opened the security men started forward to meet them and Nameless slipped through the door behind them, turning to the staircase immediately and dashing down six flights. When he stepped out of the stairs and walked down the hall to the left he stopped an employee who was giving him the eye and said "My dad said I could sit in the conference room since no one is scheduled there. Where is it from here?" Sensing homework, the man looked relieved and gave directions as he turned and walked to the corner watching as Nameless went to it and through.

Nameless quickly stripped off the uniform and slipped into his other shirt, leaving his pants off for the moment as he circled the room, touching the table. At the far end he reached out until he found the pressure plate and revealed the safe behind it. After a moment with his hand on it he dialed the combination, reached in and picked out two video discs dropping them in his bag. He closed the bag and pulled his jacket down, conscious this exit was going to be tricky if he didn't get it timed right. A peek out the door saw people. A pause for a moment till it got quiet again and another peek. Coast clear, he exited fast, running as soft as he could down six doors and he heard voices coming from behind just before he found the restroom and darted into the woman's side, slipping into the next from last stall and getting up on the tank after locking it. Stripping off all his clothes except underwear, gloves, and shoes, he pulled a pair of magnet grips out of his back and handcuffed the bag to his ankle. As people came in and entered, he left one hand on the door, watching with his power to make sure everyone had exited before he made his move.

The building had once been a mail office before being revamped. The old blueprints available in the library also showed the remodeling to some degree, the effort of the architect to keep as much of the old design as possible. This included the old mail chutes from the different floors, their dimensions on the paperwork as well. The chute, just at the back corner of the room was narrow, but good enough for his size since no normal sized adult could have fit through it. Climbing up on the door was difficult enough and getting his backpack in there, his feet hanging down. A deep breath or three while he placed the hand holds inside the shaft on either side and then he gripped them and slipped down. By pushing on those grips he slowed his descent, speeding up as he released, but it was far less then a direct fall and for that he was grateful. Four times on the way down he felt tight grips where the shaft had bowed in or been damaged, but he managed to get around these and eventually he came to the bottom which had been sealed off. According to the blueprints, the space under him was where the executive parking was. Balancing his feet on either side he dressed as best he could in overalls shirt and coat and put all his things back in his bag which went back on his back.

When he was ready, with hat pulled down over his face as much as possible, he began to jump repeatedly in the same place over and over. After a couple of thumps he heard a creak and encouraged he continued jumping higher. A few landings later he heard a snapping noise and as he came down again everything went bust. In a rupture of noise, dust, plaster, splintered wood, and gravity, he came down full force into the convertible top of a luxury car, a huge cloud of dust and plaster covering everything around him and filling the car. The alarm went off and he scrambled as best he could to get out, managing to get about four feet to the wall when he heard shouts approaching fast. Darting around the corner in the garage he quickly realized there was only one way out besides the garage and he rolled under another car, a large commercial Humvee. For the next fifteen minutes people investigated and exclaimed and then someone made the decision to get the vehicles out of the garage.


The issue was pretty big. He could hold on and try to ride out of the garage under the humvee or he could ty and stand in all his dust covered mess out of the garage hoping no one noticed. While his power was good, that one might be too much to expect. Tricky. As two other cars were moved out he debated and decided to rick the power rather then a car which was more dangerous. However, before he could move footsteps came up to the humvee and started it up. He made the best of it, got hold with his gloves into the under carriage and then quickly replaced his hands as he learned where the hot spots and parts mostly got hit in movement. As the thing started he was fairly terrified, adrenaline running through his veins as he lifted himself, struggling to wrap himself to the undercarriage and not be slammed, shaken loose, and killed.

The next few minutes of movement were rib shaking and time slowed down; bumps, rattling of the vehicle, the terrifyingly loud sounds assaulting his ears, and a particularly bad moment when the driver ran a curb. That had been over almost before he realized it even though time was slowed down for him in this stage of edginess. An eternity of quick thinking, holding on for dear life, and flashes of the ground he wished he had never been that close to was over in less then thirty seconds as the vehicle was parked a short distance away. Bleeding, burned in a few spots, and all his body trembling, Nameless curled up on the ground for a moment, barely able to move he was so shaken up. It was a good five minutes before he pulled himself out and sat up, still shaking and afraid to move too much as he began trying to beat the worst of the dust and stuff off of himself. It was another ten before he felt he might make his move and got up sneaking out and walking away casually with his power up and a stumble in his step.

A public restroom was used long enough to change clothes and run water across his face. A few cuts had stopped bleeding and some he pressed his shirt against; he would catch hell from Jesse when he saw it unless he got rid of the shirt, but oh well it happened. From there, he made his way to the Bus station and to the lockers in the east side entrance. There he pulled out a suitcase and took it with him from locker 325 and went to the Library like a normal person. There he picked a corner in the stacks back to the wall and hooked up the laptop in the case to the power and used the Library's wifi to pull up his three email accounts, checking each for messages, responding to a few, and giving progress reports on jobs currently going. He didn't have to watch the discs to know what all was on them, but he knew what they were and what they entailed. He sent that information to the client and made arrangements for an exchange of payment for discs.

With that done he closed everything back in the case and sat there for a few minutes thinking about the week, trying not to think about what had happened today. While he had learned to copy and paste memories to objects, he couldn't get rid of his own, partly because that wouldn't let him be who he was. Impressions from other places he could give away, but not his own, something which was both good and bad as his nightmares could attest to. Last nights had been bad enough with no Bee around to break him out of it, but his next was probably going to feature the Humvee and he didn't need any more of those. When Bee fell asleep at his place (sometime actually knocking him off the bed, but he could deal with that) just having her there was enough to stop nightmares and it was one of the few times she showed how much she really cared about him. As a friend that is.

A spark of an idea occurred to him and he stood, taking his things with him as he went to the computer and looked up the books suddenly on his mind in the Library. Sherlock Holmes collection was first along with a book called the Mysterious Island which he hadn't read in years. And someone was talking about it one day and he looked up the series by Lindsey Davis based in Rome out of curiosity. It made sense to him that he work on engineering and detective skills; both could become very important with his power in the future. And with the decisions about what he should study for college, this....clicked. He also looked up a book on engineers as career information wondering if this might fit him better then he expected. He headed for home, stopping in the Library lobby to place a call to Rebecca saying "Hey Rebecca, it's Nameless. I have a Sherlock Holmes book from the library I was hoping you could help me with. I think it will help me a lot actually so whenever you have time let me know. I could really use your special touch on this subject. Talk to you later."

He left for home bruised and battered, but happy with his decisions and looking forward to a long bath to try and scrub up and hide the damage from the day before Jesse got home.


Nameless Bryan stood in the shower, rinsing off the last of the shampoo and soap and feeling better for being all clean. While he wasn't OCD about it, he really didn't care for being all dirty and unusual for most of the boy's in the orphanage he had had daily showers. Now that he could take his time without having to think about others entering the shower with him he felt relaxed and took the time to make sure he felt clean all over, even between his toes. Thus when he turned off the shower his mind was thinking about his body with very different thoughts then the average boy had. He stood there and rubbed his hair dry with a towel noting now that he thought about it that it dried a lot faster then earlier in the year and he was fairly sure he knew why.

His father.

When the man had upgraded him had he slipped in a few extra's Dy hadn't know about? Probably now that he thought about it. Stepping out of the shower and relishing the fact he didn't have to read the floor with his feet he stepped in front of the mirror and dropped his towel, turning so he could see over his shoulder the spot where the invisible tattoo lay under the surface. His skeleton, his muscles, his skin, his organs -- all of them were on the blueprint that his father had decided on all those years ago. Hell, his brain and even his privates the man had planned out and it made him shiver to think of anyone who had that kind of power over the future. How long would those genes he had put in there be dominant again? Didn't he say something like thirty generations?

So... His children's children's children would still be looking at themselves in the mirror knowing they were designed, planned, built on the power by their ancestor, only their actual appearance varying based on their mothers. How freaky was that, to know you were part of a new race in fact, a spin off on Homo sapiens? Slowing converting the rest generation by generation as the genes were spread to other family lines like a conquering host taking nations like Alexander did. Better even since no one would really object; the changes were hidden inside and extremely advanced, safe from most genetic diseases and long lived. Smarter, faster, more adapted, and if his father was anything to judge off of Dy's body was going to be fertile as hell too. He severely doubted the man missed some little detail like that. And out there were thousands of others who didn't even know they were designed and set up to convert the world.

And he knew his own mind; he wanted a family with a deep longing from his own orphanage experience. He wanted to adopt for every kid he had himself out of a sheer need to keep as many kids out of that hell hole of a depression as possible. But was it right to have kids when he knew he was part of a plan, an invasion? Dy scratched himself as he stood there, turning to look for anything that reminded him of what little he had seen of his biological father and fearing he saw too much under the skin. He didn't want to advance his father's plans, but he felt the desire deep in his soul, stronger then even the urge to do the deed itself in all it's pleasures he was sure. How much of that was genetic and how much of it was purely his own experience, his own oaths on what he swore he would do for his own children?

Deep thoughts for any young man indeed.

When his father had laid his hands on him after making his promise to both Jesse and himself, he had felt the warmth and laziness creep through his body. It wouldn't bee too paranoid to imagine the man also laced a 'back door code' into his mind as well letting him take over resistance easily so he could adjust and tinker. There was no way around that except two: outlive him and avoid him touching Nameless till Nameless died. Mind you, the third option of having him killed somehow was more then the young nearly-pacifist would consider really. How many genetic siblings did Nameless have in a way, certainly thousands from the man's attitude, probably all over the world and impossible to track down really. His work was in progress and fairly unstoppable at this point whether his goals (whatever the hell they were) were reached or not. But the real question which bothered Nameless was more basic then that.

Would he throw away his own chance at happiness and a real life just to make a gesture. Cause that was all it could be with so many others unknowing. Even if a thousand of them were killed, it could hardly put a dent in the project, only slow it slightly. So that was no option really nor was telling anyone so it could be tracked. It would only take one person to realize the scope, panic, and cry about getting people rounded up and kept away from everyone else. There was no way Nameless could be part of that! But wasn't that what Building 26 had been attempting to do in a way to the specials? They fought them like a war really, capturing and interrogating and killing. And speaking of which, wouldn't Nameless have made sure to boost the potential for specials in all his kid's DNA? So in a way, this was a secret and silent take over by specials going through the next several generations, each taking over many others genetic lines through sheer enjoyment of sex?

That was another uncomfortable thought to mutter over.

Morally, he was stuck in a bad spot really; damned if he did and damned if he didn't. It wasn't as if Nameless could stretch his life to be able to control thousands of children he had already admitted no control over his kids. So what was the advantage, the purpose, the final plan? Was there any way to find out? Probably not at all really. All Dy had was conjecture, not worth the time to ponder over really. Unless....could he get a hold on the man's phone or computer? See if he had ever managed to write down any clues.... That might be a plan. As much as he never wanted to see the man again nor get near him again -- he was a bit too creepy, knowing he wanted to get a hand on you and re-adjust parts of your body in little ways. Another shiver ran down his body and he reached for the towel now feeling a touch of chill and wrapped it around himself, brushing his hair out before it got too dry. He would need to not only track him down, but find a way to distract him somehow and how the hell could he do that?

Without falling back into his power again.

Nameless felt the cold hand of panic on his heart.

It was not a good day by any means. It had been okay at school and all, normal day and when he left Nate and Bee were planning an indoor use of bottle rockets they had uncovered somewhere. it seemed a good time to flee the area so he had come directly home instead of the normal delay. And that had been great because Rebbecca had left him a message that she was needing him at some address for a surprise. That had been a hurried shower and everything before dashing to the bus to make the corner in the inadequate twenty minutes he had promised her. He even remembered to take along his present for her and when she surprised him by telling him it was date time he had a flash of pride there was something nearby he could take her to see she might find cool. That had, unfortunately and fortunately both, turned into an accidental discovery, a flight of panic, and now here he was having met her mother and was sleeping on her mother's couch before they had even had a true first date.

Hoping that would not be a trend, after she and her mother had gone to bed, Nameless found himself still wide awake, unable to sleep but not just because of the discovery, but because of other things which strangely came together in his mind. First off ws the meeting with the detective just a few days ago. Finding out Donovan knew his address had been something more then a touch frightening and he had let Jesse know almost immediately afterwards. They had talked about getting a second place and moving stuff there so they could go back and forth safely and now it loomed as a real possibility. The man had also mentioned he was looking for a killer known as Vendetta and had questioned Nameless on his knowledge of what had happened to him in the kidnapping. Bee was Dy's lifelong friend and he hadn't had a chance to warn her what was happening; Jesse had promised to drop by her school in the morning to talk with her, but she was in the file as well as one of his few contacts when he was an orphan.

Nameless still had a crush on her really, but she had already told him no to going out. It was clear they were the best of friends (although Nate stole far more of her attention some days), but he worried now that he had time to think everything through that she might also be a target if the man was looking for his niece and Nameless. In addition, somewhere out there was Nameless and his twin as well, neither knowing where the other was and his twin not even knowing about Dy's existence. Were they not in just as much danger if Donovan was that intent on following up? The responsibilities for people he cared about (well okay, he only kept tabs on Nameless since he was both a mystery and someone to fear) were beginning to weight on his shoulders really, the worry wart that he was. Even this house was too much to expect -- he had found traces of Donovan having been here before. Surely the man would think this was a possibility even if they might only be in transit. They would have to think of somewhere else to go as well to keep off the man's radar. The aunt he had never met? That would be certainly unexpected and he did have the money for the tickets.

On that odd thought he wondered if Rebbecca had a passport.

Nameless kept his in a secret pouch around his neck daily. With a father like Jesse, any second you might be harrowing off somewhere foreign at the drop of a hat. LA (which was pretty foreign to other people not on the West Coast), Italy, Hawaii were some examples of where he had found himself. Who knew what the next day would reveal? The house was silent around him, but the outside city noise continued unabated; traffic, dogs barking, sirens in the distance, brake squeals and horns blaring. a bit of streetlight covered the window curtain making it glow through onto the floor -- no moon would ever be seen inside a city really, not with all the lights at night. Sitting up (wearing his jeans basically and no shirt or shoes and socks) he stretched once and then walked over, standing outside the pool of light and looking through the material of the curtain. Nothing caught his eye, pinged his conscious that anyone was watching. Without revealing himself Nameless touch a finger from the side to the window and scanned for anyone near, seeing no one had checked out the house in the last few hours.

Relieved he went to the couch table and picked up the glass and went to refill it in the bathroom. Returning he sat and drank, realizing his jeans were too tight for sleeping in. He stripped down to his underwear and looked at the lines on his flesh from where they had been, feeling the painful button which had cut into him along the belt line. He drank and sat there cross legged, wondering if he should worry about anything else yet. Like, if Jesse disappeared or even Bee, would he leave Rebbecca here to be safe and rush back? How could he keep her safe and look for another as only his power could really track? What about Claude who knew nothing about this entire thing yet? He didn't have a way of reaching his teacher either. This whole situation was just showing how little he could do, could affect and that was really bad. Despite the fact he was still legally a kid at age seventeen, Dy (who mentally was around twenty and baby-faced enough to look sixteen) took on an adult's weight of responsibility and took it up seriously. Clearly he needed to make better plans for the future if stuff like this was going to happen. His bag had two sewn in pockets in the liner hiding his lockpicks and a few tools, part of his job of course. And he had another shirt, jacket, and hat (all reversible) as part of his power, but other then that he had little for an emergency.

Unforgivable. Especially when he had been telling Rebbecca about being prepared. Quietly he got up and went to the phone (Rebbecca's phone in it's charger on the counter) and took a picture of the couch back and the table. Sending it to Jesse's phone Nameless then dialed Jesse's number knowing his father would get the message in a few hours when he got up. Asking for the emergency pack in his room and a few changes (in exchange for the pack he had now sitting on the table), he told Jesse he loved him and that he had better damn well stay safe out there on his own, then hung up before he got fearful sounding. Replacing the phone he sat back down on the couch and feeling better for having done something even if it was three am, and took the items of clothing out of the pack putting them on his shoes before closing the pack and put it back on the table, obvious. Then he lay down and pulled the quilt back up over his full length on the couch (wrapping himself a bit like a mummy) and tried to relax his mind at least some. He slept soon and the nightmares got hold of him, causing him to tremble and struggle a bit in the quilt until someone silently laid an arm across his chest and whispered soothing words in his ear. He unconsciously recognized the voice and relaxed, falling into sleep for real for the first time that night.

Once the others went to bed, Nameless sat on the bed in the dark thinking, unable to get certain things out of his mind. Some of them were simple ones like the fact she had blushed when he stood as if sight of him made her think embarrassing things. The idea that a girl might be actually attracted to him was a wonderful and scary feeling both, more good then bad. He smiled to himself at that thought, pleased. Another one was that she had seen him in a bad situation and her first instinct had been to help him, get him out of it and then made the decision to stay and protect him further. He was sad he had missed the sensation of her lying against him, but the tingle in his hand when he had taken hers downstairs told him he certainly would not have been able to sleep once he had realized it. He had been careful not to touch her by accident or purpose either one since she knew his power, not wanting her to think he was reading too much out of her very clothes.

He was very careful about those same powers in this room as well. But a part of him wondered if he would see pictures of her as a child here... Hesitantly, he uncrossed his legs and put his feet flat on the floor and reached out, scanning back for her and found a memory of her in the room from before the accident, wrestling one of her brothers who was cheerfully laughing and trying not to be too quick to end it. For several minutes he sat there unmoving, witnessing what it was like to be siblings, feeling those memories touch a place deep inside him as a tear rolled down his face. So much lost, both Rebbecca and himself really. She had lost her brothers, he had been denied his childhood, separated from birth from the one family member he should have been kept near, his brother. While he couldn't put a face on his brother's image, the wrestling, good natured teasing, the feeling of belonging hit a deep deep spot in Nameless's soul, a desire for family he still felt very much denied. Even though Jesse was a wonder and he couldn't have wished for a better dad, the loss of his family had hurt him like most orphaned kids at an early age.

Learning he had a brother and his mother had not deserted him but died giving him life...well that just made the feelings of guilt even more huge, the loss all the greater. It was as if it had been his fault and his brother had been taken away in punishment. Dy could only hope he had had a better life, gotten a family to belong to, but the urge to find him grew deeper in his mind, a real need. Maybe when he got to meet his aunt it would help more, give him something to cling to for a past, but at this moment he felt nothing but an aching need. There was nothing else that could fill that urge, even if he and Rebbecca got much closer. Ah, Rebbecca! The look in her eyes said that she was quite pleased with him, needed his presence around. Nameless felt a good swelling of his heart for the thought of her needing him around. It gave him a sense of self worth that helped a lot with the empty feelings inside him. And now that his unconscious had apparently decided she was more then acceptable he had the feeling they were on the edge of something big, something huge. Was he in love? He thought he must be really; he had feelings of protecting her not just because she was a bystander or an innocent during a war. No, more like he wanted to protect her enough he would throw himself at Donovon while she escaped or let himself be killed to get her away safely from the monster which pursued.

Nameless wanted to lie on a sofa with her in his arms and just be comforted by her presence, feel the reassurance someone cared so much to let him into their life. Sure, she was a girl and pretty and therefore as a teenage boy with rampant testosterone she was more then just wanted and desired, but there was a part of Nameless who was different. Unlike most boys his age, he was very careful with another person's privacy, their personal space. it wasn't her obvious attraction which caught his eyes, but the life in her eyes to begin with. You could see the life in her, the wit and intelligence there and the animation alone was enough to convince Nameless the flutter in his stomach was purely because he had fallen for her without realizing it. Heck, she had dealt with the 'experiential' part of his biology very well, been angry at Dy's father on his behalf as well. And when there was trouble and she found herself with powers, she had come to him directly. In fact, Bee he had adored for years because of her personality and her looks. he had tried many times to advance the cause of sleeping with her through a sheer fascination with what a force of nature she was and he still cared very deeply for her, but now he was wondering if he had been kept from that cup for a much deeper relationship with Rebbecca, one which could last a lifetime.

"Face it," he told himself in the dark, unable to even consider sleeping, "she has power, smarts and intelligence which are two different things, talent, beauty, and even cool parents, but you are hooked because she cares about you. You might as well just give up and let yourself fall entirely for her, you've not got a chance if she decides the answer is yes." For some odd reasoning, this made him grin in the dark, tho he could detect a lightness around the curtain which suggested dawn was coming on strong. he closed his eyes as he sat there and looked again through the memories, his mind's eyes turned entirely on the little girl and noting not just how cute she was, but the lines in her face which she would show him today, the adult in her coming to the fore. it wasn't hard to see her personality in those moments, the joy in her face with her brothers and how much more serious she had become since then. Had he caused her to lighten up some or was that his imagination? In that moment Nameless decided to make sure he kept her as happy as he could to keep the worries out of her face so she could remain as perfect as he thought she was now, a flower toughened by the weather, sparkling in it's own radiance when given the right amount of sunshine.

He did not miss the fact he wanted her success more then he wanted his own. Being there for Rebbecca took on an entirely different meaning. When a soft knock came at his door later in the morning he was sitting there dressed for the day, all his things in his bag just in case, and he got up swiftly to open the door, the sun in his own eyes of a different kind them physical...

Nameless sat there on the couch in Rebecca's house waiting for the women to return, thinking about what he had just learned. It was heavy thinking, very heavy thinking. Nameless had just learned his father had found a girlfriend he sounded serious about. This wouldn't be normally an issue, but he had found out through the girlfriend rather then his father. She had been straightforward, not beating around the bush about it, but she hadn't really bragged or anything either. It was a good approach and she had treated his question with respect, tho one of them had been difficult for her.

Very interesting.

As an orphan Dy had often dreamed about what his mom and dad were like, how they would be found out one day. As a teenager he had eventually decided they were both dead and had been half right as well. Getting to know Jesse...well he had been cool, a young reporter bachelor, making his way along and using Dy has a information source on the neighborhood. When he had mentioned possibly adopting Nameless, it had been a surprise which had turned to joy fairly quickly. It was an affirmation on the fact Nameless was a worthy human being, someone worth spending time with. It had changed the way he looked at the world and the delight he felt when he thought about Jesse was like joy at seeing the sunshine after a winter of darkness. It had changed his life, literally.

Everything Jesse had done since then had been a good move for Nameless and it hadn't taken him long to feel real love for the man who probably could have been an older brother, but instead was becoming someone Nameless looked up to, learned from, and respected as well. Then when he got kidnapped and after that hour of agony on the couch strapped down by the evil Doctor who was hurting Nameless to learn how he ticked, the image of Jesse busting through the door would remain one of the few truly admirable images in his mind. Jesse was simply the best thing that had ever happened to Nameless's whole life and he felt very protective over what he thought of proudly now as 'my dad.'

He smiled again just thinking about him. He had no idea his eyes really lit up just thinking about him.

Courtney seemed smart and organized, willing to open her mind up and listen to you as if you really knew something, not like a lot of adults who only half paid attention to you. When Nameless told her something she didn't treat him like a kid, but a person and he liked that. Courtney and Jesse. Jesse and Courtney. If Jesse really was interested in her then so far from what he had seen Nameless approved. She might not have a power, but that was hardly necessary; the Special's family life could be easily opened up for someone who was special for other reasons. What would he have done if Rebecca had turned out to not have powers? Would he still feel the same way?

Oooo, good question. Rebecca was smart, organized, clear headed, very pretty and over all someone he wanted very much to see respect from in her eyes. The fact she had powers was just icing on the cake; the fact her uncle was insane and dangerous was unfortunate, but he never held that against her. She was someone worth being with, period. Would he marry her if he had a chance? It was a little early to think that way, but yeah, Nameless was beginning to think that she would make a h3ll of a partner, someone he could trust and love with all his heart. And she liked him, something he never thought a girl would ever do to be honest. Rebecca as a normal. Oh gosh yes, he would have felt even more protective over her; after all Nathan had focused on her more probably because of Nameless's interest.

He had little trouble believing that he had gotten others in danger because of who he was. Nameless's error was in thinking that he was the main problem and that he himself was someone others would feel protective about as well. He didn't see himself as anyone special, just another kid who had less then everyone else despite the fact Claude, Jesse, Bee, and now Rebecca all sought to tell him otherwise. Until he proved it to himself, he couldn't understand why they might think that to begin with. Dy shook his head at himself as these thoughts became his focus so he could get back on track.

Courtney.

If Jesse and Courtney became serious, could he see her as his mom? Even if she really would be a step-mom it would take time, experience to see what she was really like. But a small part of him felt that it if made Jesse happy then Nameless would manage even if he disliked her which so far he did not. For the first time in his life as well he could begin to appreciate what having family was like too as he thought of Jesse and him, then added Courtney and Rebecca. Then he of course had to add Rebecca's parents and heck, Bee was like the wild sister in his life which probably meant he had to accept even Nate the crazy psychedelic mushroom dressed like a boy. And of course Claude was like having a second father around or the traveling uncle you looked forward to seeing again each time he showed up... Then there was the aunt of his and somewhere out there his long lost twin brother.

Instead of having one or two people in his life he was starting to see a crowd, some you liked and some you put up with, but all of them becoming more precious to him over time. And all of them tied together in a way by love. Well, maybe some of it was just from Nameless's side of things, but still. Was this what other kids grew up with, taking for granted that there were people around who cared for them far beyond strangers or people you just met at school? How could you take that for granted, get used to it? Nameless found himself looking over each connection in a new light, seeing each person in a different light and liking what he saw. A crazy and bizarre family, some of whom would probably object to being included, but still there anyway.

Oh yeah. He could totally get used to this idea of family. A smile was still on his lips when he heard the door open and the light of his eyes came in with a smile for him as well....

The woman opened the door, her look one of guarded curiosity. Seeing a pair of teenagers on her front doorstep obviously took her back a bit as well as a gloved woman behind them with a baby who chose to sit on the porch in a chair, smiling back at her. "Um, hi there, Ma'am, My name's Nameless Bryan and this is Rebecca Donovan. We called about speaking to you for a little bit..." He waved at gemini, their cover story worked out in the car on the way. "Mrs Salinger is our transportation and little Isaac is a little fussy. Is it okay if she sits out here?" The woman nodded, a bit taken aback by the strangers descending on her like this. She motioned for them to come in making a few polite phrases and inside they met her boyfriend, a very friendly man named Henry Thackwood.

The couple had a hard time taking what happened after this once Nameless began to explain the whole story.

It was a long story starting with Nameless talking about his orphan days and then his adoption. They made pleased noises of course when he talked about Jesse; it was clear Nameless loved Jesse very much and it was a good match. Rebecca had given him a squeeze on the leg then as she sat beside him; she knew the hardest part was coming up. It was when he described their meeting with Nameless that the first signs of strain showed in her face as realization struck home. He described what Jesse had found out about his mother's death after the twins birth and all the movement and travel before that had happened which brought the woman to tears, her boyfriend quite concerned. All those years she had thought her parents and sister had dropped her, ignored her and instead it had been out of protection. She had always thought her sister had been getting all the trips to make her more special, never having been told about the kids.

And afterwards her father and sister were dead and she was left to put the pieces back together.

Finding out after all those years that she had nephews (one still missing of course) was mixed; she felt a need to make up for all the years and yet they were complete strangers to her. As Nameless asked questions about his mother, curious about who she was and what kind of person she had been to be taken in by Nameless and his tricks, she searched him for signs of her sister and, finding them, clung to them with her eyes. It was a very neccessary meeting with tough questions on both sides, but despite a lot of crying (tears of release and sorrow both) and a few hugs (which were very clingy) they all felt so much better afterwards as if a huge weight had been taken off their souls and minds. They exchanged addresses, found out a name from her she might have given his brother (Nameless was named after one of her best friends in high school; odds were good her other best bud was his brother's inspiration), and generally parted on much closer terms.

Life transforming? On both sides.

For the second time in a week, Nameless felt the odd feeling of realization he really did have family, ignoring Nameless's interference. He had an aunt, cousins he had seen pictures of (a picture of his aunt was in his pocket now and they had taken several of her and him together), and somewhere out there a brother to find as well! He could feel his heart swell and this time Rebecca sat in the back seat with him, holding him close while he wept with relief, not afraid in the slightest to show the emotions which leaked out of him. The fears and stress from his natural worry about the impression he would make, the one chance he had all came out now that it was over and he had succeeded. The few words he had were rambling and half-thought out, but just before they got back to the hotel that evening he had suddenly pulled himself up and given her a kiss of gratitude and thankfulness which had been quite intoxicating. He was on an emotional high as they had supper and kept repeating things like "You saw when I told her about the death" and "I think cousin Isa looks a lot like me" and other parts which didn't need an answer beyond yes.

He was just wrapped up in the joy of the evening and everything was beautiful, inside and out. It was one of those healing moments where so many mysteries and fears could finally be put to rest, no longer worries but transformed into potentials, no longer negative. Even Jesse's acceptance of him took on a new light as he really started to believe he had real worth, that people could love him just because of who he was (even tho people had been telling him this over and over, it somehow struck home all over again.


Aslan was an amazing...person. Nameless had seen too much with his touch on the couch to think of him as a creature or an animal. No. There was...he couldn't think of the right word, an almost majesty about the Lion while at the same time he was everyone's guardian, your best possible friend, the one person you knew you could trust with even your innermost thoughts. Nameless had never know anyone or anything he could do that with. He had never even had a stuffed animal to share thoughts with back in the orphanage! From a very early age he had learned he was different, his powers separating him from others automatically. There was no closest friends, there was no opening up -- Nameless had to learn how to deal with everything he thought on his own, by himself.

Listening to him, Aslan made no comment, letting him pour out his worries as if he knew Nameless just needed to talk more then anything else and let him talk till his throat was nearly sore from talking. His few responses showed Nameless he wasn't thinking through all of his situations carefully enough. He came to realize that he didn't need to confront his father to stop him. IN truth, Nameless only needed to be himself and he was sure to not fall into the trap of bringing his father's plans into action. The praise which was in Aslan's voice made Dy's ears burn over that point till he surrendered and admitted people had told him before he was a good person. He needed more confidence in himself, make his own decisions and stand up for what he wanted.

He wanted family, He wanted Rebecca. He wanted children. Everything else was secondary. If he had to follow Rebecca across the world, he would live in a slum in africa to be with her if she let him. Had she realized yet how special she was to him, how much he adored her inner strength? They could survive her uncle to build a life together and he would stop being scared. All her uncle could do was kill him; she could transform his very life into the dreams he had always hoped for. That was more then worth fighting for, it was necessary for him to be able to be his own self, to be a man. The monster her uncle was would be a temporary thing; people who lived on the dark side of things always reached sticky ends. And the pay off of out living him was a lifetime with someone he could truly respect and trust in.

There was so much potential for them, so many possible futures to rejoice in, to embrace if he could stop thinking about the bad stuff, turn it into an asset instead of allowing it to hamper him as he had been. The Nameless who stood up at the end of that hour was a different Nameless in several ways, more confidence in his eyes and more purpose in his mind. And to think, all of this because his girlfriend's (his smile increased a tad more just thinking that word) power increased and sent him into some random world, probably one she had been reading about. The land was....very different, but pleasant once you stopped freaking about animals talking. You just had to adjust to the fact that, for instance, the couch was made by someone with hooves instead of feet and the royals who had used it were little kids.

Bizarre.

In some ways it was cool, as if someone decided to invert the normal fairy tales and go at things from another angle. On the other hand evil was very real power here and could literally freeze the world. Not such a happy thought to run across to be honest. Armor and swords were the way of power here when you didn't use magic and remembered there were no humans. Still, having a minotaur for a general and centaurs for soldiers out there was something he'd feel safer leaving behind in a book. Heck, if she kept developing power like this he was going to have to start asking her for a reading list! Which meant more homework, but was it really homework when he was doing it outside of school? Like, to help himself understand what she was talking about and doing more often? Was the book about a war between animals on both sides, evil versus good, or about something else and the war was the ending?

It was with these thoughts that he found himself waking up on a bed in a hotel room, next to a sobbing and probably panicked Rebecca who had no idea how to reverse what she had done. Rebecca, the woman who had already told him she thought he was a great person, who had told him she would love to date someone like him, who had told him she loved him... It was about time he returned that sentiment wasn't it? And not in words since those held only so much meaning; he needed to show her how much he loved her in his actions and how he cared for her. After all, she had already helped him with his own issues and had even accepted the fact she was dating a person created and developed by another human being for some purpose unknown. How amazing was that she didn't just get away from him, but then continued to grow closer?

Oh he was hooked but good...


Anju stepped into the shower and turned it on as her hair unwound itself from a bun and closed the shower door behind her. As she scrubbed with the soap, her hair got the bottle of shampoo and began spreading a small amount throughout her hair, strands spreading it all over and because of her power, she knew every strand actually got cleaned. It was a short shower doing both at once and the rinse was easy as heck. It was a natural advantage with her power making her cut her normal preparations in half compared to most women. When she finished with that she shaved her legs and body hair before stepping out and grabbing two towels, one in which her hair squeezed itself through while she toweled off below. In a few she was in her bathrobe at a mirror to do a touch of eye shadow and her lipstick then she was finished.

Picking out a simple dress with a wrap for her shoulders, Anju got dressed, putting on very little jewelry and slipped on some soft shoes. Picking up her purse, she went down the hallway of her apartment building to the elevator, taking it down to the first floor. Exiting she stopped to speak to the doorman for a minute, mostly about the weather an easy enough subject then it was down the sidewalk four buildings to the family owned fruit store. There she spent the better part of half an hour chatting up and laughing with the owner's wife while she made her selections. From there she went over a couple of streets to get some fresh breads from the bakery and she was done with the regular stuff.

It was while she was in the Indian shop that she got accosted.

She was between the sweets and the drinks when the man stuck a gun in her side, or what felt like one. Since that was near the front of the store she went rather willingly as he pushed her towards the back looking for more privacy which she also wanted. Unseen by him, her hair got much longer under her wrap. When they reached the end of the aisle he began the threat, pushing the gun point into her belly. "Pass key. Where is it, b!tch?" Anju's hair wrapped around the outside of his shirt sleeve slowly so he couldn't feel it as she stuttered "B-b-back at h-home..." As he growled, she suddenly yanked his hand sideways as the other half of her hair suddenly gripped him around the neck. His arm got pulled behind his back, the gun clattering to the floor. His eyes popped as he began having trouble breathing and she reached into his pockets grabbing his wallet and keys out.

As he struggled she stepped out of his reach and skimmed his license. "Well Mr Wojks, I think this is called self defense," as the hair tightened and his other arm was caught, pulling both back behind him. She kept an eye open for other customers and stepped back to the back door, opening it and dragging him along, closing it behind them. She glared at his face and spoke in a soft tone. "You think you can accost me anywhere, huh? Idiot! I was ready for someone to try something sometime, you just get to be the first casualty." As he became weaker and began to be woozy she went through the rest of his pockets for clues and found a couple of business cards. Sticking those in the wallet (and moving the three hundred dollars cash to her own) she stashed the clues in her purse and pulled out her phone, calling one of the security men.

The body slumped to the ground still being strangled by her hair as she said "Kyle? I need you to come down here, we have a complication to track down..."


Nameless made his way down the street casually, pacing himself so he would reach the house just before the kids coming down the sidewalk behind him. His timing had to be careful so he didn't look like a predator nor anyone people in the neighborhood would find suspicious. In one hand he carried a city map and in the other a piece of paper with the address on it. Having already checked this out in advance he was fairly sure he could get done what he needed to. Four latch-key kids at home by themselves? No contest, especially after the surprise he was going to give them. Half way down the street he glanced over his shoulder covertly and spotted the teens making good progress his direction and smiled, changing his pace not a bit as he had judged correctly. Arriving in front of the house he paused, checked the address, and then walked up and rang the doorbell.

Being they were older, they were more mistrustful and closed about strangers, but he had the card which worked against that easily enough. By the time the boys were close enough to see him he was standing there, clearly trying to decided whether to wait around or not. The twelve year olds approached, warily but protective about 'their' territory. and challenged him. "Hey, what cha' doing?"
"Looking for Jamie Winters, this is her house, isn't it?"
"She's at work."
"Oh? You guys her sons?"
"Yep, why? Can I take a message for her?"
"Nope, I was looking for you four actually."
-surprised looks, silence for a minute-
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"My name is Ron Travers." -sees the realization in their eyes- "Yeah, I think I'm your father. I just wanted to ask you to make sure."
"Where the h3ll have you been?!" said one angrier then the others off the bat.
"Government facility in Africa, they wouldn't let me out or send mail. Big project and I didn't know your mother had had you guys. " Held up a small light in his hand a portable black light and not something they would have probably seen before.
"Why should we believe you about any of this? Mom said you were dead."
"Well it kept you from asking questions, now, didn't it? She always was smart like that. One look at any of your shoulders with this and we'll know if you are mine or not. If not, then we're clear and I'll leave. Got it?"
"What is that thing?"
"I have a genetic tattoo on my shoulder, only shows up under a special light. If you are my kids, you have them too. Won't take a second, easy peasy to see. I'll show you mine first, how about that?"
-very hesitant answers as they know they are not supposed to let anyone inside nor talk to strangers-
"Look guys, this doesn't take but a moment but i don't want to do it out here on the street either. If you're clear I'll be out of your hair, if I'm not...well you have questions right? I'll answer some of them for you I suspect."
-grudging acceptance, not many options-
"Um...Just for a minute then."

Once they let him in the door as he put the map in his bag, he dropped it on the floor by the door and sat on the couch, slipping out of his shirt, his good muscles and fine upper body drawing the boys anyway who half-hoped they had the same genes for that alone. "Okay, who wants to hold the light? You? Okay, what's your name?" "Michael. How's it work?" Nameless showed him, touching him with his hands as he did and knowing already this was one of his. So far so good. "Now, pass it over my right shoulder on the back." There was a gasp from one and all four got much closer. Comments like "Whoa!" and "That's freaking awesome!" "Dude! We have those?" He smiled; trap set, bait taken. "Yep, if you let me see your shoulders I'll show you in the mirror, okay?" In short order all four had their shirts off, reluctance out the window and lined up, pushing to be first, Nameless turned each boy so he could see in the mirror in the hall, then the mirror he had one of them hold up while he played the light over each one's shoulder.

As he did so he got multiple chances to rest a hand on each boy's shoulder and slowly add in the open door 'code' in his mind into theirs. It was a genetic trick like the programmers used where they always had a secret way that was easy to use for them to get into their coding and control it. He put the same in each kid he upgraded, meaning if he touched them they would recognize him and be open to anything he wanted to do, wouldn't resist him or fight. Handy thing, wish he had known about it a generation earlier, but it eliminated resistance once he got in and right now they were offering him their bodies for him to show them stuff. Even before they knew they had their own power. Over the next hour he showed them things they could do and the corresponding tricks on his body etc. By then they all had the code implanted and he left promising to return in a day, but not to go all nuts about it. Might be they could surprise their mom with his arrival.

So easy.

That night around eleven, he re-approached the house in a much more stealthy manner to the front door. They had shown him by their entrance it was a simple lock security, no alarm. He picked the lock and entered quietly. Upstairs he checked the doors and found two boys in bunk beds in one room. Sitting beside one he placed a hand on his forehead and began to update him in his sleep, the boy not waking or offering any resistance. It was similar to the instincts with a parent, but it was from an animal actually, where the adults could cause the kids to freeze easy enough with just a touch, an instinct thing keyed to him specifically. Over the course of the next four nights, he upgraded each boy spending several hours at a time doing so. When he was done he knew their powers were activating very soon, their testosterone would be as well, and they had a full set of his currently favored biological enhancements. And that was that. With luck they would have early families with LOTS of kids and the plan would continue to expand on it's own from there. Specials would survive the natural disasters of the earth and become the next species and his little experiments would be the leaders of the world in that regard since normal humans had little chance to survive what was coming.

Satisfied, he left them asleep, not concerned with their wondering about him as it was about to be replaced with some other distractions -- they would soon forget about his visit with those happening inside of them. Nameless caught a taxi across town to the home of another set of teens and began his preparations for contact there.

Nameless was irritated in the extreme.

He was not an action person and rarely had to go to these extremes, but now that she had refused contact he found himself in a spot he had to make a move. Damn the woman! He needed the contact to disappear, especially at the rates the man charged which were fantastic for workmanship. Unfortunately he didn't do it for just anyone, but he owed one of Nameless's old girlfriends a big favor and he had to get her to call him up for Nameless. With her resistance that only left one method left to use and he despised her for putting him in that spot. So darkness found him stepping off the street, making his way from one backyard fence to the next, slowly approaching his target. He moved effortlessly, stealthy quiet as only a cat really could, smelling the wind, watching the movements and freezing in different places along the way. After an hour it was approaching midnight and he sat in her backyard watching the two girls as they sat on the porch talking softly to each other. Twins and as pretty as their mother was at their age and he was proud of their good looks; they would easily full-fill his genetic goals.

Approaching would be difficult however as he had to touch their skin to be able to use his back-door. The back-door was similar to programer's habits of putting in a code which let them get in and have control over their own creations easily and was hidden from other's use. When he had upgraded the girls last year he had added it as with all his kids as a backup in case any of his children began to resist his goals. More of a backup just in case; he didn't expect much trouble. These two, however, disliked him for the way he had treated their mother, leaving her alone with twin girls. For that reason he couldn't approach openly and expect to get anywhere with them so it demanded a trick. They would really be mistrustful of him after this, but he was going to disapear for a few years so it should be okay. Their mother called out something from inside and one of the girls got up and went inside while the other turned around to watch through the door. Before she turned back around he was across the yard in a moment and around the corner of the building from her, his own scent blanked out earlier by a concentrated effort. He listened carefully and heard no startled sounds or changes, just conversation through the screens.

Perfect.

Out of his pocket he pulled the twist ties and the two ball gags. This was going to be tricky enough without them having movement as well. He stood there a full minute and heard one of the twins come back out and sit down. She said something soft to her sisters, but then he was listening to the sounds inside as the noise in the kitchen stopped and moved to another part of the house. Good. Nameless edged to the corner and looked around at them, seeing they were both looking into the yard and not behind the edge of them. Silently but quick, he took the four paces over to them and slapped a hand down on each's face, grasping their chins almost in unison. The instant struggle as each saw the hand coming down was over before it got underway and both girls relaxed completely at his touch. Leaning down while looking into the house's door he said softly "Good girls. Now do exactly as I tell you and no harm will come to you or your mother. I'll be in and out of here in ten minutes if she is reasonable and, well, with you on the line she would be wouldn't she?" He chuckled, tension running out of his system now that the targets had been taken. To the oldest (by two minutes) he said "Take off your shirt without dislodging my hands and put these in your hand." Shirts blocked his power and with her shoulder's bare it would be far easier to keep a grip on them both.

In a few minutes both had their shirts off, gags in place, and one sister fastened the ties over her sister's wrists, thumbs, and middle fingers effectively making her hands worthless for the time being. Telling her to go to sleep he waited till she was before he told her sister to turn over and tied her the same way. With both girls now effectively neutralized he turned her over and pulled a chair up between them both and reached in turning off the outside light. Sitting in the chair he put a hand on each girl's shoulder and sat there, checking over their bodies' DNA while he sat there, wasting time. He already knew he had done a good job with both sixteen year olds. They would be attracting boys like crazy probably in school with their scents and abilities. It was a few minutes (fifteen actually) before their mother came looking for them. She froze in the kitchen door staring at him as he said "Come closer Sharon and leave the light off. We need to talk." A few muttered curses did much to enlighten his mind to the folks she dealt with at work indeed. "You wouldn't return my calls so I thought I would have to escalate things a tad. I'd apologize, but I have no time to waste. I need your favor which Squint owes you. Get him to do my job for you and I walk away with no one changed. I swear, you won't see my for years if then, I have to disappear for a long time."

She looked at him with anger and a touch of fear. "Y-You can't hurt them. Their your kids..." He gave her a sad smile. "I won't hurt them, but i can turn their sex-drives up to full. You'll never be able to control them both enough to keep them from running away to make babies. They wouldn't be able to stop themselves. Make the call, Sharon, it's not only the easy way, it's the best thing for us both." She hesitated, her eyes growing wider. Then she stepped forward and looked at the girl's faces, seeing their peaceful faces asleep. "They can not resist me, Sharon, nor can you. I could be far worse, I'm trying not to be. Bring the phone out here and make the call, please. I only need to speak to him a second after you and then I'll be gone and you will not have to deal with me again, I promise." She stared at him for a second, trying to figure out what had changed, who he had become and then, defeated, went inside for the phone which she brought back. As she stood there, the number ringing she stared at him and he could feel disgust at his own actions in her eyes as well as in his mind. She made the call and after telling Squint how much she needed that favor and needed it for Nameless now. When she sounded like she had convinced him she held out the phone and he stood taking his hands off both girls and taking the phone, stepping away from them. He spoke for a second, telling the man how many passports he needed and the name variations for two people.

When he finished he turned it off and set the phone down on the outside table. Surprisingly, Sharon was standing next to him looking at his eyes. Straight forward she said "What's wrong Nameless? What's happened? Are we in danger?" He did not reach out to touch her, but shook his head, feeling much better now it was all over. "No, they are after me. I won't work for them so they have an assassin out to get me. I have to leave, Sharon, and get far away. You and the girls are safe." He was aware then of both girls sitting up, heads turned and listening, gags gone. "I'm sorry, I couldn't wait to get your agreement. I'm glad you all have each other at least cause you don't want me around, I've never been good at the family thing anyway." Again, Sharon shocked him and hugged him, full of worry for....him. He could feel his eyes pop and it was a moment before he could awkwardly put his arms around her as well. "Be safe, Nameless, please." She released him first, damaging his own mental image of being the tough and smart one, compassion in her eyes he couldn't look away from. "Go, we didn't see you." Nameless found himself stumbling as he backed off, headed for the gate and the front yard.

It would be a long time before he forgot the looks on the girl's faces, the pity there for someone who was not part of the family, who was more stranger then father was something he would find himself awake in the middle of the night sometimes thinking about....

Austin walked into the bedroom and followed the green rainbow to the window sill. Pulling a chair over closer, he pulled himself up the bookcase one shelf on his sock feet and looked onto the window where a green shinng light reflected off the wall and part of the ceiling. There laid Fax, circled around like a cat with his head pillowed on his bushy tail, deep asleep. Tho he knew Fax would react whenever he wanted to be honest. Looking over the fox's green jade surface, light refracting as it touched his fur, he rested his arms on the sill, pillowing his head along his elbow and reached out, looking into Fax's face as he began running his fingers through the Fox's fur. In Austin's reality stone could feel like fur and move like it under her fingers like a real fox.

A pass or three and Fax stirred, shifting in his sleep to a growing smile of contentment on Austin's face. Eventually he rolled onto his back and Austin ran his his fingers into the chest fur, scratching at a favored place. Tho Fax said nothing, Austin's face broke into a rare grin; he knew what the fox was feeling. After a long moment of contentment from both, Austin retracted his hand and put it under him, holding himself up on his elbows to look out at the world through the window, Fax getting up and giving a good stretch and yawn in front of him. Sitting upright he watched with Austin for a moment, the sun glorious in the sunny clear sky. After a moment of quiet contemplation Fax said softly as always 'I spy something starting with S...'

Austin's brow furrowed for a moment as he looked without moving his head, trying to use his peripherals like the fox had been teaching him and spotted a small bird on a ledge across the way, nearly the same color as the building and only visible because it twitched. "Sparrow, 40 up, 130 across." The fox nodded once and Austin felt relieved, For the next twenty minutes they looked and spotted objects and creatures, all the way up till there was movement at the door behind him.


Austin stepped onto a chair and then a shelf, putting his arms up and supporting himself with his arms, looking out the window with a blank stare, no expression on his face, but eyes tracking everywhere. For twenty minutes he hung there and a nurse stepping in watched surprised for a few of them, noting how he had gotten there and wondered what was so interesting. After a few she went about changing his sheets and going into the bathroom to get his pj bottoms which he had left in there this morning. In a moment she was back and, with a smile, she walked to the door and opened and closed it to let him now she had entered and then walked over to the window. "Time for a nap, Austin, come along dear," and lifted him down. Austin put up no resistance, but held up his arms letting her pull his t-shirt off and then let her unfasten his pants which he stepped out of. Stepping into the pj bottoms, he waited as she pulled them up and then he went and climbed up on the bed. "Good boy! I'll be back in a little while, you just stay there till I get back."

As the nurse lifted him down, Fax hopped over onto the bed, circling to find a good spot and when Austin eventually climbed up onto the bed and laid down, Fax slipped under his arm, his head lying on his (Austin's) stomach, Austin's hand and arm over his body. 'Remember, keep your mind thinking about the meadow as you fade off,' to which Austin gave him a side-arm squeeze in response...

In a few minutes, Austin found himself in a half-snowed meadow, wearing no shoes, just his socks and pj bottoms, but he did not feel the cold. It was as if the cold did not matter at all and in Austin's reality it was not. He crouched in the snow on all fours and Fax, who was in his mind began leading him on a lesson, coaching him in how he moved, watched, and used his power to reach out, searching for the tiny spheres under the snow. He moved softly, slowly, jumping a few times till he was close enough and jumped, shoved his hand into the snow, and came out with a chipmunk by the tail, struggling and scrambling to get away. 'Good lad,' and he set it down letting it scramble off across the snow. They did this three times, Austin locating smaller and smaller spheres, his own personal way of seeing a creatures personal space as he thought of it.

He napped for twenty minutes, but hours passed in his dreams....

ustin woke slowly, feeling a great weight pinning him down. As he slowly opened his eye he found one hand felt free and wiped the sleep fron his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to wake up more. A yawn and then he realized what it was. Ubu had rolled over in his sleep pinning Austin below him. First he tried to wake him by saying his name, but the bear-cub was sound asleep as usual and he was a very deep sleeper indeed. Then he used his free hand to try and roll the bear off him but a kid with one arm pinned doesn't have much push power so it took several tries before he could wriggle out. He sat on the bed looking down at Ubu, still passed out and found himself smiling.

Sliding his butt around with his legs lifted, he put them over the side of the bed and walked to the bathroom, ignoring the fish hovering in the corner of the ceiling. When he was done and flushed, he stood on the stool to wash his hands and grab the towel then it was back to the bed. Outside it was still dark so going to sleep was logical. He didn't feel sleepy though. As he hesitated, standing next to the bed, he felt the familiar feeling of a cat brushing against his leg and bent down automatically to run his hand across her back. She rubbed again twice, then leaned her weight into him pushing him against the bed. He smiled and climbed back up.




Austin woke up with his stuffed animal on his chest instead of under his head. He lay there motionless looking at the ceiling for a minute before he rolled over out from under the toy and dropped to the floor. He went to the bathroom and returned in a minute, stopping beside the bed for a moment looking towards the window. The digital clock up on the wall said it was almost three am. After a moment of hesitation he climbed back up and ignoring the sheets, snuggled up with his head on Ubu again, this time facing the bottom of the bed.



But Austin was not trying to go back to sleep. He snuggled his head on Ubu's back where he had rolled over and set his mind to getting inside his friend's body. He had done this several times since Ubu taught him to. Bears were natural healers and could not explain how they did what they did, you had to just experience it. So Ubu had taught him how to sink in, to feel the heart beats and merge with him to follow how Ubu did it. For an hour he lay there, breathing with Ubu, feeling his heart match the pace, sinking deeper into meditation. It also helped with his mind, making him far more focused later when he woke, tho it never lasted a long time.

As Austin and The No one worked on his gift, another set of eyes watched from the corner. Often the midnight black cat wasn't noticed during play time and she was careful not to reveal her presence most of the time. Though the fox often knew she was there, the others were very distracted by Austin, the center of their universe. Bast also considered Austin extremely central to her life, but she had a different perspective. It was her job to keep him safe and teach him right from wrong, a very difficult task with an autistic boy. In fact, her very existence as a separate individual in Austin's mind might seem contradictory to her being in charge of his health and learning of morality, but she didn't choose her function either.

And while the others played games, interacted, and taught, she observed. She alone had influence with his power, using his luck against him as well as to his advantage, but he had proved stubborn. Not just because of his age, but because he didn't see the world the way others did and Bast was the bridge between two worlds. She had to understand the real world as well as his reality to know how to steer him to move through life. Which is why the guardians were so very necessary to his life, his future. Not only did they provide a good basis for human interaction as well as protection and new experience for the boy to work with, they also gave her the moral situations and daily life twists which enabled the boy to learn.

The power let them know who the next guardian would be.

This latest one was a worry however. It wasn't that he treated him badly or hurt him (in that he was careful as if dealing with a china doll so not so much issue there), but he didn't actually care for the boy as a human being. No the one named Donovan seemed to think of him as an important tool, a favored device which needed certain care to keep it functioning. Bast might be a part of Austin's reality and not a separate living being, but she understood nurturing and what it meant for children and parents both. The bonding was a good part of life, giving Austin a reason to seek out attention, to make the connection with humanity. This latest guardian didn't encourage that bond, didn't allow for it really and that made her a touch worried about his true intentions.

They all knew it wasn't going to be a long guardianship, not that they knew how long yet, but it had that feeling of temporary-ness which the others had not. At some point the man would either desert Austin somewhere along the way or try and kill him, that much was clear. At that point he was going to have quite a few unbelievable accidents, but that would play out later. No her concern was not for the guardian who was always like a child's phase of life; her concern was how Austin would take it and what he would learn from the man. He was at one of those crucial times in life where positive or negative reinforcement could change his entire future actions. He was more active and alive now then he had ever been before, not that the living saw that so much, but it had taken a lot of work to get him there.

So she watched while Austin played tag with Ubu in the hotel room and build a fort out of pillows, her nature warm and mothering, her eyes sharply thinking about what needed to be done to fix the situation.

Waking up was always such a pleasant time for Nameless as she had no schedule and her life was her own, so normally she enjoyed it greatly, but not this morning. She awoke in pain from a number of sore spots and bruises which had kept her up nearly half the night, even after smearing lotion over half her body. Maybe she should have just bathed in the stuff instead and slept in the bathtub; she might have come out better sleep wise at least. Just the movement at the moment of waking was enough to cause several protests from different areas, so she gave up the battle for sleep, lifting her knees and then pushing the sheets down with her feet. She lay there naked for another moment contemplating the day and what else she could try with her skin and glanced at the clock which was an unpleasant reminder it was an hour with an '0' in the front of it. Nameless habitually slept bare assed as she always thought it ridiculous to get dressed for bed and if she had company; well let's just say she wouldn't have wanted the interference. With a groan, she rolled sideways and leveraged herself up and pulled up her leg to look at the bandage she had placed on it last night. It apparently had been enough for it to stop bleeding which was good so she stripped off the bandage carefully and tossed it for the trash can, missing of course because of the soreness in her arms.

She cursed under her breath at this sign of weakness and decided to punish herself for it to at least get something out of it all.

First, breakfast. She got herself up and walked slowly, still feeling a touch of dizziness and headed through the connecting door to the office where she sat down with relief in a chair, feeling the cold material under her naked butt with a shiver. Looking up the number on her notes she picked up the phone and ordered the delivery and was told twenty minutes. Good enough. With a time limit now, she headed back through the connection to the gym, tossed out the mats and began throwing herself in rolls and landings for the next fifteen minutes, gritting her teeth over the roughness on her skin and the protests of her body at what it saw as unreasoning abuse. At the end of fifteen she was covered in sweet and moving slow when the doorbell rang and she stopped herself, turned to the comm unit and pushed the button saying "Yes?" It was as expected the delivery boy and she buzzed him in telling him to head right at the top and turned and went to the bedroom, grabbing a cotton bathrobe (very short cut) and her wallet before returning to the studio door. The sweat caused the robe to stick to her in a semi-revealing way with patches of the robe slightly see through which was why the teenage boy's eyes were a little distracted as he 'Morning'ed her and she handed over the appropriate change plus tip. As he stood there staring at her breasts she glanced up and chuckled, then removed a dollar from the tip saying "That's part of the tip."

She took the bag from his unprotesting hands as he blushed up to his ears and closed the door gently. It was nice to know she still had a figure which could grab a young man's attention. Stripping the bathrobe off and dropping it on a living room chair, she sat on it and opened the bag pulling out her bagels, fruit, and cheese and making herself a couple of sandwiches of the hot bagels, satisfyingly filling when washed down with the juice provided. Nameless reached out and snagged her laptop from the nearby coffee table and opened up a browser which opened up on the New York Times Internet edition. Nothing big had happened in the world it seemed and she scanned down to the region section and froze, mouth dropping open. The icon this morning (which was always the top story) showed a blurry picture of Amora coming around a corner of the crowd with a mask on. She clicked it and quickly read the story, her drink forgotten in her lap till it tilted over and she nearly leaped to her feet at the sudden coldness down there. Cursing, she made haste to catch the bottle and mop up the seat with the napkins while her mind ran rampant. She had only been mentioned as 'acomplice' to the 'Mystery Heroine' but she wasn't bothered about that. It would probably be a few days before anyone got the whole story and she could only hope the company she had broken into inadvertently hadn't leaked any pictures from their security system which she assumed they had. When she had seen the reporters last night she had figured the local news would have some angle on things, but the New York Times.... Nothing like getting world wide coverage the first night out.

And thinking of last night reminded Nameless of how horny she had been as well. Had she really tried to take out a strangers tonsils with her tongue? She shook her head and idly played with the tabs to work her way over to the personal section under advertising. Not an area she normally looked through, it turned out to be karma for her to think of it today as halfway down was one that caught her eye rather quickly. "Red crasher: SWM 32 would like to speak soonest. Contact the head office of the business we met quickly; leaving for parts unknown tonight, Snog Catcher.' Her mind swam, wondering what the hell that was about. Was it a trap? The police trying to smoke her out? No, she was being paranoid, it was only the first ever thing they had done. But the timing was amazingly close and hinted at the very clue she needed; surely if the story wasn't in the paper yet only a handful of people would recognize this ad for what it was since only a person in that boardroom would have seen enough to say anything. Suddenly in a hurry, she got up and finished off her drink, depositing the rest of the bag in the fridge before leaving her bottle on the counter and going back to the bedroom. She dove into the pool and did her normal strokes, reminded again of the soreness which was fading a bit more now. Twenty five minutes later she was dressed and exiting the building for the cab she had called, and in another ten she was exiting on the other side of the water in Queens at the local branch of the Library (which was in multiples all over the city). She had time to work out what she wanted to do and so it was with a more confident stride she turned to the bank of phones set aside for visitors.

She dialed the number she had gotten off the net and a receptionist answered. She stated she was returning a call to the British Catcher and was asked "I'm instructed to ask you three questions. How did you get there, what did you leave, and what was on your face?" Nameless was surprised for a moment and then answered "The window, a burning building, and red adhesive mask plus about a building's worth of soot." The answer was apparently the right one as she said "One moment and I'll connect you." She felt a bit like a secret agent for all the code words, but couldn't suppress a little flare of excitement at the whole thing when there was barely more then thirty seconds pause before she heard a British accent say "Excellent! You got my message then!" 'British!'

she thought for a moment before asking her own question. "Well hello there yourself! What did the material feel like and what movement did I make?" There was a long laugh on the other end before he said "Ah, I deserved that. You were a dashing young lady in a rubber red suit with the most amazing cape. And you stretched out in a most rude fashion and snogged me bleedin' solidly." She nodded to herself and asked him for his email right then before she hung up as that was how she wanted to communicate. He hesitated and then gave it, obviously interested in what she was up to. She hung up and went inside and found, just as she had remembered, you didn't need to sign up for computer time here because the computers were so old there was never a wait. She logged onto a generic email site, provided a false name and address, and began the basics with an account she called 'RedCrash1' and wrote him from there.

Over the next hour they passed nearly twenty messages with him pressing her for a date either now or later next week when he returned on business. In return she passed some of the story of the rescue (nothing revealing) and he revealed what the police had been asking them about. He even sent her a copy of the security tape file which she slipped onto her portable drive, even though the police already had it and were probably holding it for later identification. Nameless watched it and saw nothing anyone could have used to identify her, but enjoyed the faces of those she left behind as well as his stunned expression. In a separate tab she searched him out and found him online and studied up on what little was known about him; good stuff. She ended up making a date with him in exchange for a service which he agreed to as it guaranteed them both to have to meet to finish the business. Nameless even knew how to manage it since, as an artist, she got invites to art exhibitions and 'happenings' all the time, most of the happenings being parties for displaying art forms not found in galleries and often in costume. She could crash one easily and come in a different costume and have an excuse for hiding her face from him still. Perfect.She sent him the links for the metal material she needed, some more dominatrix outfits, and a pile of other things basically all ready ordered by her (working off tabs with his agreement) on his name with his companies address' for a return. He paid for the items and received them and then brought them to her and she would reimburse him and they could have their date which he so desired. Hell, in a week at this rate she would want to 'shag him bloody rotten' as they said since she was sure to find herself in more danger by then. She had the bug for it now... Nameless sent him a goodbye email wishing him a safe trip and stood, stretching and then grimacing as she remembered why she shouldn't be doing that at the moment.

Nameless used the blowtorch and the mallet, working across the curve of the large circular metal slowly, visor pulled down as she added texture to the perfect scales on her creation. As she went along she also tried to heat each part enough to allow some polishing, much easier with the sander (covered with a special cloth). It took several hours to do it, suspended by harness from her ceiling harness system for working on the larger sculptures. This one was private commission, made for some special ritual or special date coming up. She wasn't really interested in whatever the reason was; she was being paid plenty of money for the work and that was the important part after all.

Needing a break, she flicked off the blowtorch and placed it in the suspended tray hanging beside her, pushing the visor back off her face as she rubbed her eyes. Reaching into the tray she pulled out a water bottle she had gotten months ago cause of it's shape, but used for tea which she had it filled with right now. Southern sweet tea made with lemonade, a great energy drink when she was working. After a minute the phone in the tray rang softly and she reached out and picked it up, looked, and then answered.

Seeing her hanging above hunks of metal, tea bottle one hand, welding visor pushed back, phone to her ear was a bizarre sight.

For about ten minutes she answered questions and tried to wriggle out of another gallery showing, saying she was on a deadline, but they knew her habits and kept at her for awhile. Eventually she managed to get out of it to the disappointment on the other end and hung up. She hated getting dragged to shows when she would rather stay at home and get work done, serious work to be finished. Besides which, you had to get dressed up, there was never good beer there, and lots of people expected you to act snooty, something she had never been any good at. A waste of a good day in other words.

A couple of the Happenings had been interesting, but that was different. Cause she had company. She blushed a bit remembering the executive from the board room she had met in disguise a few times. Those had been racy moments, a bit heart-palpitating and she had enjoyed them like a kitten loves cream. In fact, he was partially at fault for the fact she was feeling a bit of a craving for a kid herself. Irritated and thinking that way again She grabbed the rope and pulled herself up to the mechanism and unlocking it so she could slide down and get out of harness. Throwing her gloves on the table and unfastening the restraints, she walked to the door and down the hall to the divider.

The divider divided the apartment into two but since she owned both halfs she used it as a long apartment. Now she went to the kitchen and grabbed a hot pepper, cutting off the top and literally eating the whole thing before reaching to another. Three in a row scotch bonnets and she wasn't thinking about babies anymore. In fact she was frantically making up a cucumber solution which would help stop the reaction or at least mute it down. And by the time that was working her mind was on another track entirely. That involved ways to find a better recipe for cooling things for peppers.

The baby thoughts wouldn't return till late that night and then would be worth a groan.


Nameless was cussing.

One of the coastal towns near New York had contacted her with interest in finding a way to recreate the waterorgan found overseas. Someone had seen it and thought it should be done again for their town, a tourist attraction. They had actually approached a few different engineers before they got referenced to her. Her cussing had nothing to do with the actual project, but just getting the water tank to work correctly for the experiment. Currently she was in one of the labs used at the university with a large long tank of about twenty feet in length and two feet wide. The issue was with the wave machine. The university had a wave machine for a biology class built by one of the professors several years back. Of course, there was no diagram and no one knew how it worked other then plug it in and oil it up. And they only had a note on a piece of paper on how to oil it. Plus, it hadn't been used in awhile. So she was at one end with the side panel off while two students handed her tools she asked for as she tried to figure out why it had jammed. One of them knew his stuff and was trying to make a diagram of the inside while she worked on the rod system. The other one kept stepping back between tools and she was suspecting he was checking her out.

Teenage boys.

Finally she pulled her head out of the casing edge with a muttered word and grabbed the tool holding teen towards her by the pants leg and said "Com'ere." Motioning for him to squat, she squeezed him by surprise in two spots leaving black hand prints in such a manner it was clearly sexual, one front one back. He made a sound of surprise and panic and jumped up looking at his pants as she said "That's for gawking at me, numnuts. You need a girlfriend. Badly. Get out," and motioned at the door. He dropped the tools and left in a hurry while the other smirked and tried not to laugh. She rolled her eyes saying "Some guys are so obvious. Least you only draw your rods..." The boy lost control as he snorted and had to back off. She got up and kicked the tank saying a few words under her breath. "I think I need to take a break before I lose my temper. I suspect people have been missing out on the oil checks and it's damaged from inside now." The boy made a face; he had been doing enough stuff to learn how badly good equipment could be ruined by an inexperienced person. Walking to the door, Nameless grabbed her over shirt and pulled it on, walking out and across campus towards the edge where one of the student pubs was.

Sure, she was over aged for the regular patrons, but it was better then walking a long distance too. Entering, she walked straight to the bar and showed her on-campus badge and her driver's license. The guy checked (could he even grow a beard yet? Damn they get younger looking every year....) and asked her order and she told him what she wanted, slipping onto a stool and dropping her phone in front of her. Scrolling through the messages on her website email she paid as soon as he put the drink down and as he turned away she felt movement behind her. As she looked, two boys stood there, intent in their eyes. Resisting rolling hers she turned back to her drink saying "Can I help you kids? Halloween isn't for a few months yet and I don't need protectors no matter how cute your dimples are...."

Nameless woke and lay there, looking at the ceiling above his pallet. The light had not risen through the windows yet and that was good; he preferred waking with the dawn, but to beat it was a small victory in life. With a smile he wiped the sleep from his eyes and rolled out of bed going to his simple stove bath, starting a fire under the tub which he turned a faucet on. It was winter still and the pipes in the older building rattled before the water came out and began filling up the tub slowly as he rechecked the fire to make sure it caught, adding in more sticks slowly. When finished he turned off the water and left it to heat up as he slipped off his pjs and put on a simple cloth banded around his lower body leaving his limbs entirely free. he began his patterns, a forty-five minute series of tai chi stretches and movements which were second nature to his mind, but his body still was learning to deal with after two years. After all, it had flexibility and youth, not experience.

And funny enough, the old man had been better at it then the nephew. His nephew had been lazy in a way, not trying to keep up with the old ways and preferring the new world. Nameless had always felt they should be mixed, choosing just the things which made the world more convenient without giving up the meaning of life. By the time he finished, his young body was covered in sweat and shivering from the cold in this outer room. Picking up a towel, he stripped off the cloth and walked back into the bathroom where the heat was deliciously warm now and dropped the loincloth into the tub, the towel on a table next to it. Stoking the fire once more, Nameless got on the stool, and then slid into the tub which was filled with rather hot water now and a real shock of a sensation on purpose. In his homeland China he would have had to swim in the early morning chill and then experience a sweaty sauna as well to tough him up as a child; here he did as best he could. Using a sponge he scrubbed his skin clean as he could and then worked the cloth over a stone as well, cleaning it and hanging it on a wire above his head.

Standing in the tub he began to towel off, not wanting a complaint from his niece when she came to clean up water off the floor. That was, unfortunately, when the attack began. The door opened suddenly and a man dressed in white, his face covered, reeled into the room with a sword, spotting Nameless almost immediately and beginning a lunge. Nameless, bent at the waist as the sword sliced through the air where his chest had been and whipped out with the towel, striking directly into the man's throat making him gasp for air and fall backwards. Grabbing the tub side, Nameless leaped down as the man recovered his balance (sliding a few feet first awkwardly), a naked child against a full sized man still. It would have seemed laughable to an outsider watching, but neither opponents eyes showed amusement as they paired off and Nameless gave a slight head bow without taking his eyes off his opponents. The nod was returned and then the attack began again. A jab at his legs and he leaped up avoiding it and landing on the end of the sword, one foot on top of the other. He started to slide backwards because of his wet feet, but the sword was forced to hit the floor, the man stubbornly holding onto it. If he had let go he could have struck, but like most with a weapon he couldn't switch gears that quickly.

For several minutes the man struck at him with the sword and Nameless moved or bent out of the way of each blow as his training taught. He tried a few tricks of distraction, throwing off the man's aim and gaze, but it was just a feint and the man started to ignore those moves making the one-sided fight harder to keep going. Tai Chi is the art of wearing down your opponent while conserving your own strength by giving them nothing to strike and his skill was adequate enough to keep him alive for more then seven minutes at which point he detected fatigue starting to work on target who was using a heavy weapon. His enemy was also noticing the difference and becoming desperate to finish things off. For his own part, his wet feet and youth were both hampering and making his moves unpredictable and hard to counter. Nameless thought he saw fear in the man's eyes for what Nameless would do when he got the upper hand. Nameless spoke in Cantonese, an older dialect most Cantonese speakers had to pay more attention to telling the man if he surrendered his contract and gave himself up to Nameless's mercy, he would live. Foolishly, the younger man refused to listen, having been warned about trickery from this particular victim who had rumors of great power. Nameless spoke again this time in english "Take the offer. I will not give you your life a third time. You would be of far more use to me alive and well." For a second time the man shook his head and tried to take off Nameless's head, the blade coming within an inch of Nameless's nose as he jumped backwards, drawing the young man to move forward.

Snatching up the towel as he rolled to the far corner of the room, Nameless whipped it out like a lance as the man darted forward into the blow which took his right eye out in an instant, the bloody ball ending up on the floor near the wall. As the man grabbed for his socket in reaction, Nameless darted under his sword and through his legs causing the man to drop the sword as he reached with his other hand to grab him, bending over. Perfect. Nameless turned and jumped landing his weight into the man's rear causing him to stumble forward into the stove blindly falling forward. Face and hands grabbed the hot metal by instinct, weight preventing him from letting go quickly. He screamed as Nameless scrambled onto his hands and stood on them, his sixty pounds enough for the moment. In a few seconds the hands were burned enough to be temporarily useless as the pain flared and he kicked in the man's nose, weakly with his legs to be admitted, but still effective enough. Jumping away he got the sword and closing the door, grabbing the shutters coil plunging the room into darkness lit only by the small light from the damper. Sensing the end the man curled on the floor near the stove glancing around wildly at assumed movements, bleeding, his hands on fire and useless, and his face badly burned. From the darkness, the voice moving, came Nameless's voice, much colder then earlier.

"Weapons. A bad mistake to trust in a weapon, child." The man's good eye looked in the right direction, but with his depth perception gone he couldn't have made a correct guess on anything in these last moments. "As it is, the weapon is not properly made. In the old days there was only one way to correctly cool a hot blade from the fire. Shall I show you?" Before the man could speak the boy had shoved his weight behind the sword and driven it into the man's chest, correctly pin pointing the heart square in it's edge. A gasp, knowledge made aware in his eye, the boy Nameless looked into the one good eye his skin cast in red from the flames. "Xiao yang le ba, xiangjiao ren...." * As the man's last breath thudded in his chest, blood ran out of his mouth and down the blade as his heart stopped working. Nameless stepped back breathing hard and opened the shutters again, surveying the room with overturned tables and scattered items. Shaking his head at the waste he none-the-less stepped weakly to the door to open it and then got a second towel, stepping out to the mirror and checking himself for injuries as he heard footsteps running up the outside stair. He wrapped the towel around his middle as his nephew in law ran in and slid to a stop, looking at his uncle in surprise, maybe at seeing him so calm.

They spoke rapid Cantonese for a moment before the man could bring himself to look in the room and his skin blanched, blanching more as he realized who had killed the assassin. Nameless for one was bothered that even his own family was getting antsy him as if it had not been luck to some degree, not just skill and experience. Youth had kept his movements quick, but experience had made it a win. Still, a near thing if his opponent had been more experienced... At his uncle's commands, the body (sans sword which was stuck up on a rafter uncleaned) was wrapped in the bloody towel and taken to the roof access. dragging it quickly across to the next roof, they let it roll off into the street and retreated even as the noise of the landing on stones brought people awake. As his nephew brought him a new towel Nameless decided to bathe again to wash off the feeling of battle and the stench of death. Warned to be silent, his family helped him clean up the room first and light several incense to drive away the smells associated with what had happened.

In the street that morning as the local police were called, people were not fooled by the body placement since it was only one house away from the Cricket Boy's home. While the police would not make the connection to the foreigner's remains, the locals knew instinctively the boy had something to do with it and the signs were made again in the streets of Chinatown...

* "Suck that, Banana boy*."
* 'Banana People' - Chinese living overseas who have lost any true Chinese trait. They are like bananas: Yellow (Chinese) on the outside while white (western) on the inside

The western tie was annoying (even more so since it was a clip on, normal ties being too long for his short form right now), but necessary when dealing with westeners. It was nearly thirty minutes still till his appointment and he sat on the subway holding the handrail as they came into his stop, quite aware at the boy his age sitting down the side trying to catch his attention. He ignored the child who wanted to play a game and the man across from him kept looking between them wondering what was happening he was missing. Mildly amusing, but not worth the time trying to explain. As his stop came up he hopped down and made his way over to the door in that odd walk all common subway riders learn getting there ahead of a few others by simple youthful resilience and balance. An older, grey hair'd woman stood right behind him and he looked up at her saying "You can lean on my shoulder if you need to, Ma'am." Pleased she shook her head no, but as the doors opened and they got off, he watched for her to step down careful appearing to be a concerned grandson, though of the wrong ethnic kid. It drew attention as it always did when he was around.

Nameless ignored stares and made for the exit, trying to keep up with the foot traffic and having to hurry with his child's legs. Halfway to the stairs he skipped three times before he stopped himself, blushing and just jogged. Several people stared harder, never having seen a child blush because he stopped himself from skipping. He took the steps at a half-run to keep up and as he exited he turned right down the sidewalk. Eyes followed him down the sidewalk and as he passed an alley a man stepped out and grabbed his arm, receiving a foot in his knee slammed hard and unexpected. As he crumpled Nameless kicked football style into the man's groin and he collapsed where he was. Turning and continuing, Nameless picked up the pace a bit as people walked around the man ignoring the scene (though one cussed about not having his phone out filming cause it would have been a good youtube video); it was after all New York. Finding the sixteenth precinct, he turned in at the doors and joined the queue for the desk sergeant. The line moved briskly and in a moment the man was looking down at him with a frown. "You again, Laddie? Can you not stay away from this business?"

This got a smile from Nameless; the man had a good memory for faces, but steadfastly believed Nameless could leave things to the police. "Lieutenant Saber asked me to come in, Segregant, you wouldn't want me to disobey a detective now would you?" The man shook his head and motioned one of the officers going by with paperwork in his hands over. "Take this waif by Saber's office on your way up, Sinclair, save me calling up a rookie you would." The other laughed good naturedly and motioned Nameless to hurry. "Only cause you ask, Sergeant, and your wife's brownies are under lock and key," he said and Nameless heard the laughter behind him of others as the door shut and they went straight down the hall to the elevator. Taking it up to three, the man took Nameless to a hallway he was already familiar with and said "Fourth door on the right, you hear kid?" There were several policemen who did not believe, nor could, that he was an adult in mind at least and he had given up with some of them entirely so did not bother to correct the man. "I know the way, officer," as he went down to the door in question, feeling the eyes on his back. Nameless knocked and got a "Come!" and turned the knob and entered.

There were three men in the room, small tho the cramped office was. One was leaning on the window ledge, one was sitting in a chair and the other behind the desk leaning on it, piles of files all around him. "Ah, Ge Nameless! Thank you for coming down so quickly..." The Lt motionined him towards the empty chair and the only place left to sit in the room. The man at the window did give Nameless a small nod of greeting, his smile getting a bit wider as he saw some entertainment coming up. As Nameless leveraged himself up into the chair, sitting forward on the seat not near the seat back with his legs hanging down, the other man gave the Lt a mistrustful glance. "Nameless, you already know Detective Simpson, but this is Special Agent Richards of the FBI," Nameless nodded at the man politely and the man hesitantly nodded back, "This is Ge Nameless, one of the better in touch with comings and going in Chinatown. " The man's eyebrows went up and he sputtered "Excuse me? Is this a trick? A joke?" The seriousness, mixed with some amusement in the Lt's eyes as he held up his hand to stop the man's comments, had Nameless hard pressed not to smile himself and keep up his inscrutable features politely waiting.

"What can you tell me, Nameless, about the activities of one Wo Shing Wo?" As Nameless turned his look to the floor, the stranger flashed an irritated look a the Lt not happy about the group's name being given out to what appeared to be a child of the particular ethnic group he was after. After a moment, Nameless spoke and there was nothing child like about what he said, the seriousness in his eyes, not the solid sound to his information. "Wo Shing Wo is a criminal triad from Hong Kong who are settling in lower Chinatown right now. They have not started anything big yet, though there is a lot of coming and going from ship cargos to one of three different warehouses in the last month so something is in the works. Shu Tsai must be trying to gain a foothold in the Chinese underground." The agent's eyes widened as both of the other men watched his face, their own smiles showing their amusement at his shock. "They are originally from Canada but moved to Hong Kong in the 30s. I...think they have moved from drugs more into electronics from what i have heard, at least here, probably to avoid the other Triads in competition till they have a foothold." He glanced at the agent and smiled at his expression and said to him directly "Can you tell me, it's only a rumor...is it really the Wo Hop To branch?"

Hesitating, the man glanced at the Lt who nodded his assurances that it was safe to speak to him, the man licked his lips his eyes narrowing. "Possibly. We've gotten unconfirmed information about them." Nameless nodded and began to give the description of the warehouses, where they were basically and the three men listened carefully as the Lt scribbled some notes as the Agent became more and more convinced this was not only not a joke, but something real though it looked like something from a movie...

The No one was a fish I knew in real life, belonging to my long ago girlfriend. He is the only fish I have ever known with personality. Real personality, the kind you couldn't ignore. He was known for knocking the hood off the tank (so strong we had to keep two bricks on the hood as one he could get off still) and spitting pebbles across the room breaking items.

He had so much grumpy personality you felt like you were really being introduced to a famous person when you met him. If he didn't like you, he let you know and would often make faces behind your back when you weren't looking but everyone else was. He was, in truth, such a strong minded fish people called and left answering machines messages for him during the week so he could hear his name.

When he passed on, he was nearly two feet long and all muscle. He had outgrown four tanks and you could hear him chewing underwater. I doubt I will ever meet a fish as powerful as The No one who sometimes reminds me of a grumpy water demi-god, Master of his small corner of the world. If we could have made a gerbil ball that didn't leak, he would have made great effort to control everything in the house, this I know.

I keep him alive in my memories and share him with others when I can.

In this alternative to Austin's world of the Heroes universe, Austin has not autism. This is how different Hamelt's life as a real fish was. Through the story I will use real things which happened to us while we had him for five years.

Enjoy. The No one will probably cuss at me.


The No one awoke as the sun came on.

The voice of the cleaning goddess (a minor diety because she ignored him, clearly warned off by the boy-god) came through the portal. The boy-god on his sleeping place answered in tired voice then sat up. The mornings religious rituals were beginning. The No one turned slightly, the better to see his face as the hands came up, rubbing the eyes in a time-honored ceremony of waking. As always he performed it flawlessly and The No one looked on as he swiveled out of the sleeping place and left through the portal.

Where it led The No one had no idea. Not that he hadn't tried to find out, but he was contained in the liquid box, not yet having learned the secrets of penetration. Reminded, he turned and swam to the far corner where the boy-gods sibling had stuck an animal cracker to the outside of the box. The No one concentrated, focused, opened his mouth and moved forward. Smack! Damn. He tried again. Focus. Concentrate. Smack! Damn. Movement at the door caught his eyes and he quickly swam back to the front of the glass, looking out on the far reaches of the world.

The boy-god spoke. "Morning, The No one." The No one swam around the tank super fast to show greeting. The boy-god stripped off the sleeping vestments and picked up his clothing off the chair, dressing slowly. The No one watched, seeing the signs, interpreting the symbolic nature of the clothes. Today was a good day. Blue and purple were today's clothes. He swam down, checked the bottom. Yep, stones still there. Different blue then clothes. He swam back and watched boy-god fight with hair. Cleaning goddess entered, boy-god stopped, cleaning goddess fight hair on behalf of boy-god. Win. World good.

They leave. The No one feels panic, starts to froth in the water zipping back and forth then suddenly aware of voice. "Sorry The No one! Almost forgot you, didn't I?" The boy-god raised the dinner box, shook out five pellets. Always five. There once was four The No one remembered, many many days ago, but he was advanced enough in the ways of the box to have achieved five. They floated. The boy-god turned off the sun saying "See you after school, The No one," and left. Only then did The No one turn and scarf all five down, chewing with his powerful jaws.

The rituals were done for the morning hours.

Looking around, The No one spotted an intruder. Floating Diver. Infuriated he pounced on it, grabbed it by the head and flailed it back and forth through the water, showing it who was in charge, that he meant business! When the point was across he swam to the top, slamming his head against the hood to knock it up, threw the diver out. As the hood slapped down he was already swimming to the front to see... Ah! Halfway across the sacred chamber. Good! Let it lie there in stillness. The No one was the Master of the box.

To show victory, he used his mouth and scooped up pebbles, piling them all in the opposite corner. Today was a good day for long trenches. He made them from one end to the other and satisfied with the mornings work, went back to the cracker. Focus. Concentrate. Smack! Damn. He would Master the out-of-box thing. The No one settled in the dimness, went to sleep.


Hours passed.

The No one awoke at a sound. He looked. The portal was cracked open, the diver still on the floor where The No one had left him. Good. Teach him lesson. Something wrong. Attuned to the world as part of his lessons, The No one knew there was an intruder in the room. He watched carefully and saw movement near the sleeping place. Stealthily he drifted closer, barely moving his tail. On the sleeping place lay the furred menace. The No one grew angry.

Had he not made it clear enough? No one on sleeping place but boy-god!

Floating up as the cat bathed, purposefully ignoring The No one, The No one pushed the hood with his head. Instantly the cat turned it's head to the tank, but it was too late. The No one had turned on his side while the lid stayed up now balanced and with his tail had already scooped up a fin-full of water and flung it at the fowl creature who received it full in the face. Again and again he threw water as the thing hissed, jumped down and fled the room, patches of puddles showing where it had been progressively hit, chased from the room.

The No one found grim satisfaction at having chased off the intruder again. Evil cat. If he could get out he would show it. Reminded, he went back to the cracker. Focus. Concentrated. Open mouth as he swam forward. Splat! Damn. It was a matter of mind over matter. The No one knew he could do it, could get the cracker, even though months of slamming his head against the glass had not worked. It was only a matter of time before he found the key to winning through. Focus. Concentrated. Splat! Damn.

Time passed. Box resisted successfully.

Cleaning goddess returned. "Ah! That fish again!" She approached and pushed the lid down quickly, taking the brick off the back side of the hood and putting it on the front side. "How many times have I told Austin to keep this brick on there..." The No one watched as she toweled up the sleeping place, took the cover off and left the room. Soon she was back, nearly tripping on the diver which she picked up. "Why did you take it out, Austin...?" she wondered out loud. She mopped and put the diver on the tank top then left, shutting the door firmly.

The No one knew the invader was waiting for him to forget about him so it could slip back into the tank. He was not fooled. Floating underneath where she had placed it, he picked his spot carefully, waiting. When the moment felt right, The No one surged upwards, beating the water furiously with his tail! He smacked the underside with his head raising the hood up a whole two inches before he fell back into the water and saw out of the corner of his eyes a flash of falling blue.

Success! Enemy defeated! The No one floated sideways up against the box's side, trying to look down. It took three tries, but finally he spotted a blue leg. Good! Taught him lesson! Three victory laps around the tank in celebration! With enthusiasm and instinct he darted forward. Splat! Damn. The No one moved back to the far corner of the tank and hovered whee he could see the cracker and glared at it, irritated.

The No one heard the approaching pounding footsteps of the boy-god and woke, turning to look towards the portal as he ran in, tossed his bag on the bed as he said "Hey The No one!", and ran right back out. The door slammed and he heard the cleaning goddess shout something about noise and the boy-gods voice in the distance answering. Silence desended on the house, though in the distance he could hear the noise of something happening.

This was not the normal afternoon ritual. Something had changed.

Frustrated by the lack of information, a lack of understanding, The No one swam around twice fast then stopped, listening. Footsteps of the cleaning goddess. She entered with a coat which she hung on the back of the door saying loudly to someone else "..disagree. He has to learn sometime and if you're not going to..." and closing the door behind her again. The No one popped a bubble out of his mouth staring at the portal. Something was very much up.

Time passed.

Later (everything was later in The No one's world, having no real concept of time) the portal opened and the boy-god entered and turned the sun back on again. He looked as if he had been busy, fighting battles or out creating the world in some form; his clothes were brown colored in patches and a few new rips were visible yet he seemed not distraught over the clothing being messed up. "The No one, you should have seen it!" He launched into a description which was so rapid and with so many words The No one did not understand he let him go, simply watching and blowing a bubble occasionally.

As the boy-god wound down (whatever it was had caused him to laugh and get giggles) he ended up sitting on his chair in front of the tank, forehead pressed against it. The No one tilted and focused, and pressed his mouth over the boy-gods nose once, which got more giggles. The boy-god reached up and opened the hood and The No one quickly swam up, turning so he could watch. The boy-god ran his fingers down The No one's back several times, something which seemed to be desirable as it was not the first time he had done it. "Your my best friend in the world, The No one, I can tell you anything."

He began talking again as he reached for the food container and plopped five pellets into the water before closing the hood and then saying "Hey!" The boy-god bent down and picked up the diver holding it up. "You're not supposed to throw him out, The No one..." but stopped as The No one shook in the water back and forth, eyes fixed n the diver. He was clearly against the idea of it being returned to the box and the after a moment the boy-god reached up somewhere above him with it instead. Leaning close the boy-god pushed his ear against the glass and The No one took his cue and got a pellet crunching it as the boy-gods giggled and laughed at the sound.

Patting the box hood lid he said "Back later!" and went out, turning the sun off again. Now the room was very dark and The No one (whose box light came on whether the boy-god was there or not, but it was dim) looked up suspiciously at the hood as he finished off the other pellets. Somewhere up there was the enemy...
The door swung slowly open without a creek, barely even a whisper. It spilt a channel of amber light across the dark entrance hall, forcing the shadows to retreat. They watched from the edges of the room where they pressed against the wall as one of their kind loomed across the floor, swiftly followed through the door by its owner. With a breath the door closed once again and all was plunged into darkness. As eyes adjusted the blackness gave way to a shade of grey. Light penetrated through the gaps around the curtains to thwart the rule of total darkness. One shadow however was impenetrable and solid. It stalked across the room with muffled footsteps and after a moment hesitation approached one of the doors. A black gloved hand reached out to turn the handle and the door was pulled open just enough to be peered round with goggle masked eyes. Reassured the way was clear the shadow slunk into the darkness of the next room, leaving not a trace of his passing.

Nameless was navigating purely on instinct. They had been unable to easily locate any plans of the building he had broken into and could not afford to delay. Their assignment was becoming increasingly urgent to complete as it was drawn out and they could not afford for their suspect to move on again and putting them at risk of losing him. As it was the pair had, as yet, been unable to even confirm that the boy they were tracking was in fact their target. With growing frustration the pair had been forced to take a risk in order to make progress. Nameless had volunteered to break in to Micah’s hideout and seek evidence that he was the elusive R.E.B.E.L. If all went well they would be able to apprehend their target by the weeks end. Nameless hoped to return to headquarters with a willing new recruit, otherwise a less willing but equally cooperative prisoner. However he was a realist and he knew it all came down to how tonight went and that was partly dependant on fickle Lady Luck.

With heat detecting goggles Nameless checked each room before committing to entering. He moved quickly but with the upmost care, from their days of surveillance the partnership had found that there were several residents of the place, children and teenagers from what they had seen, all it was take was for one of these to get up for a midnight snack and the whole plan could be ruined. Quickly and he located the bedrooms, feeling it was here, in the more private spaces, that any evidence was to be found as it was becoming apparent that this was some sort of hostel. A vast number of the bedrooms were deserted and only earned a brief scan. However these glimpses helped Nameless build up a picture of where he was. The décor suggested to him that these were the havens of young people, some of which seemed to have left in a hurry. Belongings had been left behind in turmoil and the broken furniture he encountered in some rooms suggested there was a good reason for that. Nameless was a solider; he knew a scene of a fight when he saw one. Had he been taking any notice of his emotions this place would probably have given him the creeps.

Finally Nameless peered round a door to be met with the warm glow that indicated the first living being he’d encountered since entering the building. He froze in place, listening intently until he was certain he was hearing the rhythmic breathing of heavy slumber. Creeping round the door, eyes fixed on the hotspot, Nameless thought they seemed a little too small to be their target. Just to make sure he took two silent steps into the room and squatted down, lifting up his goggles briefly. It was less than a second before he was upright again and swiftly slipping out, that little girl was not Micah. He was in lucky however with the next room he tried. Looking at that little face locked into a little frown as the boy slept Nameless thought, just for a second, about how young he was and what they could be taking from him.

That thought aside Nameless began his search of the room. His goggles were against his forehead as the infrared they offered wasn’t good for this. Instead frail torchlight lit his way, though he had to be careful not to direct it at the boy or the door left ajar in case anyone emerged into the hallway. He could not help the slight scuffling of his footsteps on the floorboards despite the soft soles of his plimsolls but unless Micah was a very light sleeper the sound should not have disturbed his dreams. It was easy to find a promising lead, a laptop. If Micah was their target then he was a technopath so it made sense that he might store some evidence on his computer. Tucking the laptop under his arm Nameless exited the room, closing the door and making his way back to the bathroom he had passed earlier. The room had a lock on the door which made it the number one choice.

Taking a seat on the cold floor the soldier opened up the laptop, pressing the power button and waiting for it to load. His whole body was rife with tension, his posture erect and his eyes sharp, fixed on the glowing screen within the darkness. Had he been a hound his ears would have been erect as he listened for any movement in the hallway beyond the door. The computer loaded without a problem and with hardly a sound. Nameless had been concerned about password protection, he could have still attempted to hack into the files however it would have taken more time and the longer he was here the more likelihood there was of him being discovered. Micah was less cautious than expected however and Nameless was browsing his files in no time. It didn’t take long to locate what he was seeking.

A smile softened the man’s face as he regarded the file simply titled ‘R.E.B.E.L. Recruits’. It was almost too easy. Loading up the document he took note of the single name at the top, remembering it for later on when he reported back. He closed the file and powered down the laptop, sneaking back out of the bathroom only to freeze at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Nudging his goggles back down he slunk back against the wall as an orange blob shuffled towards him. He held his breath as the figure passed within a metre of him and into the bathroom, the light clicking on to cast him in sheer relief had he not vanished from the spot.

Nameless emerged from the building with relief, passing along beneath the amber glow of the streetlights, tucking away his balaclava and goggles within the pouch attached to the belt around his waist. From the same pouch he received a mobile phone, flicking it open and hitting speed dial. He had something to report.

Alexander sat in his car, preparing himself. Today was an important day and nothing could go wrong. He checked his briefcase, everything he needed was inside and he smiled. He had prepared well. He was about to start his car when he remembered something, he removed his gun from his jacket and slid it into the small hidden compartment underneath the seat. That would not do. He started the car, a new Mercedes, a car he had just bought with the money made from his last deal and he was very happy with it, the restaurant was just round the corner.

He pulled up to the restaurant and stepped out, grabbing his case and giving the keys to the valet. They knew him here and he was discreetly shown to a private dining room that he had reserved. It was nice when people knew you, it was good to have connections.

There was a single round table in the room (important that no one was at the head of a table) and took his seat. He ordered a glass of wine and the waiter quickly disappeared. He checked his appearance in the mirror, his blonde hair was cut slightly shorter than normal and his beard had been trimmed perfectly. His dark grey suit was well cut and tailored for him. The people he was meeting were impressed by such things.

He had an odd job, he was one of those people in one way did nothing, but in another was essential. Alexander was essentialy a middle-man, he helped broker deals between various different groups. Sometimes they were just over the verge of being illegal, slightly dodgy deals between otherwise respectable businesses. But usually they were very illegal, arms dealers, government agencies, terrorists (or freedom fighters depending on who you asked). Alexander did have his own rules but they were complicated, he had met too many representatives of liberal democracies to see the world in black and white.

The first people began to arrive, there were three different groups and as always the only ones who were on time were the criminals. The more respectable people liked to think they could make people wait, especially Alexander and his kind of people.

The four men did not look like what you expected but there was definitely something suspicious about them. The men took their seats at the table. It had been agreed that all of them spoke English throughout, even though it's was only Alexander's native language. "Gentlemen, so glad you could be here." He called the waiter over and orders were taken and again the waiter quickly vanished. Moments later the other two groups arrived, arms manufacturers and government agents from a certain European country, soon they were all sat, orders taken for drinks (no one ws eating but the restaurant was paid well).

"So, shall we discuss business?"


Christina did normally feel nervous or embarassed. She had been through a lot and merely meeting people in well appointed offices was not really much of a challenge. Today, however, she did feel bad. She was meeting her former boss and she had a lot of explaining to do. For the past few years Christina had worked for the charity World Medical Care, it provided medical assistance to areas in need across the world and was a very worthy organisation.

It was an organisation she had also pretty much abandoned. It was something that they always drummed into people, this is not a normal job. You can't just walk away, you have to be committed. It was a speech she had given many times to newer employees, before WMC she had worked for similar organisations and she the importance of commitment.

A side door to the office opened and Dr. Henry Deschamps walked in, glancing at a report in his hand, he sat down still reading without acknowledging her. This was typical for Deschamps, incredibly focused on his work to the point of rudeness. Eventually he put the report down.

"Why are you here?" asked Deschamps.

"I am here-"

Deschamps cut her off, "What I mean is why aren't you where I sent you," he said, "You should be there for at least another year. Or if nothing else I need three months notice. Well?"

Christina looked down and felt ashamed, "I had some personal problems and-"

Again Deschamps spoke over her, "Yes, your divorce. You were basically running our facility there. And you basically dropped off the map."

She nodded, "I know, but there was also another incident-"

"The shooting? Yes. I do understand that it could have shaken you up. But you were unhurt, and I know you have been in worse situations before."

For one second Christina wanted to tell Dr. Deschamps everything. How she had been shot, how she had nearly died but had been saved by a man who had healed her and repaired the damage to her body. The reason she had not been working was that she had spent her time trying to find this person. Eventually she had tracked him down and the healer had explained he was only one of many people, people with different and incredible powers.

It had humbled her and the resulting confusion about the world had cost her her marriage, her job and her peace of mind. She had decided to move to America and rebuild her life. She was trying to put the revelation behind her, ignore it, but every day she found herself thinking about it.

"Dr. Deschamps...I know I let you down and I came here to apologise and that is all. I am working for a different organisation here in America...I hope to do some good work."

Deschamps smiled, "Not exactly the third world but every country needs help I suppose."

Christina felt relieved, Deschamps was a good, honourable, noble man, basically if he didn't like you, you had to examine your life. Christina left the office convinced she could start over again, she would ignore the business with people with special powers. She couldn't deal with it, it was too much.

Nameless sat on a comfortable chair, slowly smoking a cigarette and looking out of the window. This was not his house but he liked it, it was comfortable and well-appointed and had had all the modern appliances. It wasn't exactly in his style, not something he would buy, but it was nice. Of course, currently it was a bit of a mess, and he couldn't stay here for very long but even so.

He finished his cigarette and stood, looking round the house. This had belonged to a friend of his, well, friend was perhaps not right but associate. Nameless had been contacted two days ago by his associate two days ago asking him to visit. It had been a trap. But fortunately for Nameless the trap had failed. When he had arrived he had been attacked by the government agents who had been plaguing him and other specials for months. It had been very frantic few minutes but now Nameless was left standing and free. Around the house were five dead govenrment agents. And one live one.

Nameless now turned his attention to the live one. The agent was tied securely to a chair and already looked in rough shape, bleeding from his face and the side of his head. Nameless pulled up another chair and sat in front of him, "I've been thinking," said Nameless, "And I've changed my mind about you. At first I was irrate that the government had conspired against me and those with powers. Furious." Nameless took out another cigarette but did not light it, "Then I realised, for several years now I have been pursued by the police for crimes I committed and cannot explain away. Is this really so different?" The agent looked on but said nothing, "So, what I have decided is this...I will lose some of my moral outrage. I am a dangerous person, I have murdered many, I cannot complain that people come after me. Wouldn't you agree?"

The agent remained silent for a moment, "You're a murderer. You deserve everything you get." His voice was strained but clear and brave.

Nameless nodded, "Exactly. The fact that you are acting illegally is neither nor there. In reality the rights of people only exist in the sense of what we can stop others doing to us. A person is only free if he can stop others from imprisoning him. You are strong, your department is strong, trained men and women, with guns and bombs." Nameless laughed, "But I am also strong. And I am nothing really, there are others with powers far greater than my own." Nameless picked up a gun from the floor, it had belonged to one of the now dead agents.

"You are not as strong as you think you are," said Nameless standing, "Your half hearted attack on us will fail. You are uniting a previously disparate group against you." Nameless pointed the gun at the agent who was showing surprising courage. He knew that Nameless was capable of gunning him down in cold blood.


"So, I'm going to let you live," said Nameless lowering the gun, "But tell your superiors that this is war. And not the modern, rules of war, Geneva convention war. Anything goes. Do you understand?" The agent nodded, "Good, I imagine soon that your colleagues will come looking for you.." Nameless quickly raised the gun and fired three times, the bullets hitting in the agent in the legs and hip. The agent cried out in pain and struggled furiously.

"But you said...you said you would let me go," said the agent, struggling through the pain.

"I am letting you go," said Nameless, "But I doubt after this you'll be able to continue your work, one less person for me to worry about." Nameless dropped the gun and walked out of the building, he could hear the agent shouting in pain as he left and went to his car. Nameless felt good, he felt focused, determined. A purpose was good for a person.
Nameless could tell that the men and women before him were not pleased to see him, apparently they had not anticipated that he would make the long journey to the Alaska Facility (it had no other name) because of the incident. It had been a bad week. Three of the occupants, this was the current preferred term, had died, two of them during various tests being conducted on them and one had committed suicide. Nameless was not happy, even worse some of his employees seemed confused that he was at all concerned. “I made it clear that the occupants were to be treated as well as possible,” he said, his tone was controlled and his body language neutral but inside he was very angry. “And yet two have died during the tests and other committed suicide. Three people are dead.”

One of the scientists coughed, “Mr. Lowe, we have many more occupants and we learned a great-“

Nameless cut him off, “Quiet. This research is a regrettable necessity and just because we have to do it does not mean anything goes. I fully intend to release as many occupants as possible and I take their wellbeing very seriously. The research gained from the deaths of the two occupants has been destroyed, I have never seen it and I don’t want it mentioned again, this is to show you how serious I am.” Nameless had always had a vague idea that eventually he would release the specials that he had kidnapped but he had never really had a plan. It had been a growing concern and then, almost miraculously, he had employed a special with the ability to alter memories. It was too good to be true, erase their memories and release the poor people and no more would be said. It was the best he could do for them. “I am beginning to think you are not the right people for this job, you lack a delicate touch.” If only Nameless could have moved here permanently, he longed to take direct control of the project but that was not possible. People were already asking questions about what he was doing, what he was spending money on and he did not want more scrutiny. If what he was doing he was ever discovered, especially at this stage, he would be finished. For now he had to continue working from his offices in New York.
“Because of these and other failures I have decided that the five of you shall be taken off this project,” said Nameless, “You’re all being reassigned. As well, this facility is being closed and a more permanent one constructed.” There was a murmur amongst his five employees, “I shall remind you of the terms of your contracts, you shall never mention a word of what happened here.”
Dr. Braune suddenly started speaking, “Mr. Lowe, you can’t be serious, we are the only people who can do this work. You need us.”
Nameless got up from behind his desk and walked up to Braune, “Dr. Braune, I understand you were conducting the tests where both the occupants died…you’re lucky I don’t make you walk back to New York. You are not as indispensible as you think, your position has already been filled.”
Dr. Braune started to argue about breech of contract and what he would do, he got so wound up he did not notice Mr. Mason walked up behind him. Mr. Mason grabbed the doctor’s shoulder tightly and pressed down. Braune cried out in pain and fell to his knees, “I do not respond well to threats Dr. Braune, and I do not have patience with people who fail me so utterly and do not even acknowledge their mistakes. That’s enough Mr. Mason.” Nameless’s head of security took a step back, “Dr. Braune, you will continue working for me in New York. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Lowe.”
“There, I hope we can put that unpleasant incident behind us,” said Nameless, “In around an hour a team will arrive and begin the process of moving everything to the new facility, assist them in their work.” Nameless walked out of the room followed by Mr. Mason, “I want you to stay here, just to keep the fear of god in them, keep them in line and accompany them back to New York.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Mason, “The research from the tests that killed the two occupants is inside the helicopter for you to read, sir.”

“Excellent,” said Nameless, despite his assurances that the research had been destroyed, he couldn’t do it. They had discovered valuable things and Nameless was not giving up any information. Nameless checked his watch, he had a board meeting later that day, he should make it if the weather permitted. He stepped out into the cold air and towards the helicopter, Alaska was too remote, too far away from him. The new facility would be much nearer, much more under his control.

Nameless stared at the rather large and unsightly piece of equipment before him. He was used to being presented with sleek and shiney pieces of technology, whereas this was cobbled together out of various different machines and still wires sticking out of it. Even worse than that, it was broken, that was the first thing he had been told about it. The second was how much it had cost. While Nameless’s funds for this project (now named Project Insight as it was a distinct second phase) were almost limitless he didn’t like throwing away and being told how much this broken machine had cost him did not please him. It was for these reasons that he was slightly surprised at how pleased the research team who had brought it all the way to him were. They were positively glowing with pride.

“Please tell me why I should be impressed?” said Nameless finally.

Dr. Franz Kloder stepped forward, he was head of this team, “Mr. Lowe, this is it. This is what you asked us to do.”

Nameless frowned at Dr. Kloder and then he shook his head, “I know it was some time ago, Dr. Kloder, but I did not ask you to bring me broken tat that costs millions of dollars. Please explain yourself.”

Dr. Kloder’s confidence and pride seemed to quickly vanish and he took a moment to compose himself, “Mr. Lowe, this machine has the power of a special. Or it did, after some initial positive tests the whole thing seems to have stopped working.”

Nameless looked back at Mr. Mason in shock, had he heard Dr. Kloder right? This was the breakthrough they had been waiting for. “Dr., are you saying this is it? You’ve managed to recreate the power of specials in technology?”

Dr. Kloder’s confidence quickly returned and he seemed very eager to explain, “Yes, Mr. Lowe, I am so glad you understand, yes, that is it exactly. After extensive experiments were conducted on one of the test subjects…” Dr. Kloder paused, he knew that Nameless was sensitive to the treatment of the specials they were holding but this time Nameless was too excited to care about what they were calling them, “In which we analysed their DNA and physical properties and so on…I won’t bore you with all the silence, but we managed to get an approximation of their powers.”

Nameless was stunned, his mind already racing. This was only possible because of his deal with Helen Boxwagner and North Central Positronics who had conducted the original research on this and he would be sharing this information with her. She probably already knew, a number of her people were working on this project as well, but it would be important for him to inform her personally. “Who was it? What was the power?”

Dr. Kloder rushed forward with a file, “The powers came from Raul Sorenaz, a twenty-two year old from California, he could control magnetic fields, moving metals around at will. He was very powerful, Mr. Lowe.”

“I see,” said Nameless, flicking through the file, “He’s dead?” asked Nameless, suddenly noticing the small deceased label underneath his photograph.

Dr. Kloder nodded, “Unfortunately, he did not survive some of the more invasive procedures, Mr. Lowe, I assure you every care was taken to limit the harm he…to protect….” Dr. Kloder trailed off.

Nameless closed and file and pushed it away, “It is okay, Dr., I understand. I am sure you did all you could.” The bodies were beginning to stack up and Nameless did not like that and normally he would have made his feelings clearer but they were finally seeing results! And Nameless was now very excited.

“We have footage of the tests, Mr. Lowe, if you would like to see it,” said Dr. Kloder. Nameless nodded and the television screen against the wall flicked on, he heard Dr. Kloder’s voice clearly, “Test thirty-two, date 18th November, time, 19:21,” the screen showed a clean and sparse laboratory, machine that was before him now and several scientists. There was also buckets filled with metal, nails, screws, coins, anything, “Activating Device 3221 Gamma.” One of the scientists turned on the machine and then quickly stepped back. For several seconds nothing happened, Nameless looked at Dr. Kloder who looked back happily, “Watch the bucket of nails, Mr. Lowe,” then a slight ripple seemed to go through the bucket and some of the nails began to move and lift into the air. Then it was over, Kloder paused the footage.

“Is that it?” asked Nameless.

“That was the first test, Mr. Lowe,” said Dr. Kloder, “We conducted six more successful tests. Obviously, Mr. Lowe, this does not look very impressive, after all, magnets can do much more, but there are no magnets in this machine.”

“Do not worry, Dr. Kloder, I understand what you are showing me,” said Nameless, and he did. This was it. Nameless drummed his fingers on the desk, “What now?”

Dr. Kloder smiled and looked relieved, “We want to see if we can repair this particular device and get it working, control it more, but we also want to try with other subjects.”

Nameless nodded, “Of course, of course, you have free reign to do as you see fit,” he said, “But Dr. Kloder, I don’t want any more deaths, it is better for everyone involved if we can prevent that. After all, Mr. Soranaz is no longer available in your research and I am sure he would have been helpful.” Dr. Kloder nodded. Nameless looked back at the footage, he noticed something he had missed before, in the corner of the screen was the edge of an operating table, and what might just have been Raul Soranaz’s arm. “Yes, Dr. Kloder, no more deaths, please.”

Nameless Lowe looked at himself in the mirror, he was old. He filled the sink with cold water and splashed it on his face, he was old and he was tired. Things were progressing well with his work with specials, security had been tightened and there had been no further deaths or accidents or unfortunate incidents. Since his attention had been shifted away from his actual businesses things were a bit shaky, but he believed most of that was from the change in leadership. For decades he had been Lowe Enterprises and any change would make people nervous. He left his bathroom and looked at some of the reports from his various businesses, he was eager to take more control but the specials took up so much of his time.

And, perhaps, more importantly, he didn't have the time or the energy. He had been all over the country finding specials and meeting important or significant individuals who could help and it was draining his energy. Yesterday, he had collapsed. It had been a shock. His doctor had assured him he was fine, just tired, but Nameless could feel old age upon him. Twenty years ago he went through tougher times than this and it never really phased him. Whatever happened there would be no new challenge, this was it. He had a good few more years in him but he was not immortal and he didn't want to be. A man needed an end to his life, it gave him perspective. People who never thought they would die achieved nothing.

While the incident was nothing and he was fine, it had effected his thinking. He needed to speed things up. It was not something he wanted to do, speed meant mistakes, not doing things properly, more danger. But it could also mean results. Results that could change everything. He picked up his phone, "Get me Dr. Kloder." There was a click and a tired sounding doctor answered the phone.

"Kloder here," he said.

"Dr. Kloder, this is Nameless Lowe," he said, he picked a file Kloder had given him a few days ago, "The recommendations you sent me that I rejected...I was wrong. You can do everything except for what is in section five."

"Thank you, Mr. Lowe," said Dr. Kloder, "I assure you this will greatly help the research."

Nameless sighed, "I want results, Doctor. I don't want to do all this and get nothing, do you understand?"

Dr. Kloder was a sensible scientist, he did not promise things he was not sure he could deliver, regardless of the money and even the lack of restraints placed upon him could guarantee results. "Mr. Lowe, I cannot promise you anything, research is difficult, but this will make a huge difference."

"Excellent," said Nameless, "Dr. Kloder, for the next week I shall be mainly concerned with my other business interests, but I want daily updates." Nameless put the phone down. Concerning himself with his actual business seemed like a holiday, just worrying about share prices and lobbying for less regulation in the Chinese economy seemed easy in comparison to all this.

Nameless Lowe looked round at the table at a team of some of the brightest minds in the world, the top scientists in the world (or at least the the top scientists who could be bought off to committ terrible acts on fellow human beings in the name of research). Only a few of them could meet his stare.

"So," said Nameless quietly, "What you're telling me is you've made no progress?" There was a murmur of agreement from around the table, "After months of work, a fortune in funding, the pain and suffering of the people in the facility, the deaths of several, and we have nothing." Nameless did not like failure, he hated failure on this level. The worst part of all was that they had initially had some success replicating the powers of specials. Now even that device seemed to have failed them.

"This is unnacceptable," said Nameless, "I demand progress."

"Mr. Lowe," said a middle-aged and distinguished scientist, "This is unlike anything before...you can't expect miracles in a few months."

Nameless sighed, "Dr. Harrow...all I want is some progress." He looked thruogh a stack of papers on his desk, "I believe your team told me four months ago you were nearing a breakthrough...well?"

Dr. Harrow looked less confident, "I'm afraid we were mistaken."

"Ladies and gentlemen, please remember, we have committed terrible crimes for this research. People have died. We need something to show for it." Nameless disliked and regretted the deaths of the innocent specials he had kidnapped. But he knew that great achievements required great sacrifices. Still, it was regrettable.

The project was shaping up to be a complete disaster and he was thinking about abandoning the whole thing. Of course, that could lead to some very unpleasant consequences. He couldn't just let the specials he had taken go.

Nameless stood and slowly walked round the table, "Here is my solution. We shall redouble our efforts. I am instituting a lockdown on the institution, when you return no one shall leave, there shall be an end to outside communications not concerned with your work." As he moved round the table he looked at some of the more senior scientists, "Also, I am imposing a deadline. Two months. That is all we have. With no progress the project shall be abandoned." Nameless nodded to his assistant at the door, ten of his security personnel slowly entered the room. They were silent but an air of quiet menace entered the room.

"Finally, it has been brought to my attention that rumours have begun to circulate about this project. I shall explain again, secrecy is paramount," said Lowe. "If I discover who has been doing this the consequences will be severe."

"Are you threatening us, Mr. Lowe?" asked Harrow.

"Dr. Harrow, I am not threatening you with violence," Nameless said, adding a slight laugh, "I shall simply destroy your career and your lives. Violence won't be necessary." He returned to the head of the table, "This project has been a fiasco and when it is over I shall be making a careful review of the personnel involved and who really tried to succeed. I shall be sending an extra contingent of security to ensure my instructions are followed."

Lowe looked around the now Nameless looking scientists, "Get it done," said Lowe, and walked out of the room.