[Archive] With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

30th April 2013
10:56 GMT

Lantern Natu looks at me askance. "I could do that myself."

I nod as the first of the replacement bodies is carefully removed from the bio-printer.

"As could I, and Lantern Nax, and… A few others."

She returns her attention to the brain tanks. "Is this supposed to be a lesson in self control?"

"No. This is a lesson in how to bio-print replacement bodies and install brains. We cannot guarantee that there will always be Lanterns around with the right mindset, so we have to make sure that there's a non-Lantern solution available."

"So we just leave them there while we practice?"

"They're sedated. They're… Dreaming at worst. More likely they're-."

"Having the worst possible nightmares because their mentors cut their brains out."

"No, I had the Atlanteans make some dreamcatchers. I doubt that their thoughts are going to be pleasant, but they-" She frowns at me. "-aren't going to have nightmares."

"'Dreamcatchers'? You mean those bits of netting?"

"Yes. I usually use the opposite, but they're quite efficacious." I smile at her. "I know that finding out that-."

"How do they work?"

"If you want precise details, you'll need to speak to the wizards. Broadly, a nightmare is a sort of… Bad magical trip, where your mind connects to the realm of dreams and pulls all sorts of cruel creatures and negative narrative strands to expand an uncomfortable throught into something really nasty. Dreamcatchers filter the connection to the Dream so that the… Lure, if you like, can't go out."

I sigh quietly.

"Of course, sometimes, having a nightmare is a good idea, but I'll refer you to the goddess Melinoë if you want to have that discussion."

"I think they've had enough nightmares."

I nod. Threllian is going over the data the Darkstars recovered from the town. He wanted to help with the re-bodying, but I convinced him that his own feelings about the Reach might result in him inadvertently altering their minds, and he-. Very much wants to avoid doing that.

"What about the rest?"

"The Scarabs? Not much we can do for them. I mean, if we get very lucky-."

"No. The-. That wasn't their original homeworld, was it?"

"No."

"So there's nothing to stop the Reach cloning them again."

"Probably not. And when I feel it I'll take a look, but they'll probably fortify it better next time." I sigh again. "But they have to give them some sort of upbringing or their brains don't develop properly. We've bought a decade… Maybe a bit longer."

She nods slowly. "I can't get my head around this kind of evil."

"Oh? Nothing like this is Korugar's history?"

"Sure, but-. The people who did experiments on people-. They were some of the most evil people my world ever produced. When they were… Working for a government, they had to keep what they were doing secret, because it would have caused riots. And when crazy.. murderers did it on their own, the moment they were found out…"

"So you're asking why everyone in the Reach is fine with it, to the point where random cargo handlers know exactly what's going on?"

"They opened two continents for settlement. They didn't care which of their people found out about it."

"Lantern Natu, when I told you that the Reach were evil, what did you think I meant by that?"

"I.. thought they would be brutal expansionist militarists who ran a police state. And then I read the briefing documents, but I thought they might be.. exaggerated. And then the Darkstars started sending me examples of Reach biotech from.. liberated worlds, or N.E.M.O. members who were fighting off their infiltration attempts, and… I don't… Understand how they… Became this."

"Pass. Next question." I shrug. "We don't have good records until just before the start of their war with the Green Lantern Corps. I honestly can't tell you how they became the way they are. My best guess is that they used genetic engineering to change the way they socialise, but that's an educated guess at best. Feel free to go archive-diving if you want to try to find out."

"There must be… Some records of what they were like. If they can cooperate with each other they must have had normal social instincts at one time."

"The Spider Guild doesn't have any moral problem with eating people, and they can cooperate with each other. You shouldn't assume that just because a lot of intelligences share certain characteristics that we all do."

"What about records?"

"Everywhere that had records of the pre-expansionist Reach has long since been subsumed, and in most cases their populations eradicated. The Reach themselves might have copies somewhere, but we've never found them."

"What about the Green Lantern Corps?"

"Didn't bother keeping detailed records that far back. Border locations, yes, laws, yes. Minor points of sociology or biology? Not unless the local Lanterns made records themselves." She looks slightly dubious again. "It's a big universe."

Checks finished, the empty-skulled body is wheeled into the chirurgical suite while the printer starts work on the next one.

"I'm going to try. Try finding out about their history. I just.. need to know."

I nod. "Then I'll wish you the best of luck. I -on the other hand- am clocking off." I raise my right hand to my forehead. "Let me know if they need me, or if you actually find something."

"I will."

I

step out, looking for

Mr van Wyck, whose head jerks up as I appear- "Oh." -and then returns to the door to Controller Jevek's workshop.

"Any news?"

"No. The Controller thinks it probably possible to get them up again, but it's not easy. Making…"

"Making more is easier and fulfils the same strategic necessity."

"Something like that."

"Can you do anything to help them recover?" He frowns, shaking his head. "In that case, the surviving Darkstars and I were going to have dinner. Do you and your people want to come as well? There's some… Great restaurants on Maltus?"

He thinks for a moment, then hesitantly nods. "I don't know about the others. But I will. Thanks."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th December 2282
13:08 GMT -6

As far as I know, the Eighties don't celebrate Christmas. No presents, no trees, no carolling and no prayers. But they do mark the 25th of December with a motor parade, followed by a communal feast.

I'm looking down at the parade now.

It's been decades since Warchief Super Bee fled Sac City ahead of the Shady Sands/Redding/Boneyard army. Most N.C.R. textbooks refer to it as the N.C.R. Army, but the N.C.R. Constitution hadn't been signed yet, even if it was clear to all parties that it was inevitably going to be. A large, technologically sophisticated band of raiders squatting on the N.C.R.'s neck couldn't be tolerated, so they had to go.

Unfortunately, and perhaps also inevitably, the attack was poorly planned. The various city states had armies made up almost exclusively of light infantry. The Lost Hills Brotherhood weren't involving themselves and the Desert Rangers were still trying to hold Arizona. Against a raider army which was mostly driving cars and trucks and even had a few restored tanks, they could gradually grind them down but weren't able to prevent a breakout. Thousands of heavily armed Eighties drove towards New Reno and then Vault City, committing brigandage and enslavement wherever they went.

And they finally set up shop here, in Wendover, where they built their new home, conquered some of the weaker proto-nations and then sat here menacingly. Eastport aside none of them are places the N.C.R. cares about, and since Eastport's conquest has mostly just resulted in them paying the Eighties proper to leave them alone it's not really a pressing concern.

Until they started talking to Wyatt. So now it's time for hardball.

The parade is going slow, Thunderbird taking time to wave at his admirers and toss bottle caps into the crowd. Other luminaries drive just behind him, engines revving, drivers and passengers having shouted exchanges with one another and the crowd. Behind that… Tanks. Not final generation American army tanks, but certainly more advanced than anything fielded during World War Two. I'm a little concerned that they're a novel design rather than just a copy of the Abrams or something, because that indicates a level of technological skill that we didn't think they had.

There, in the second rank. That's Wyatt. So at least I know where he is.

Behind the tanks are trucks and cars, all heavily customised. Some trucks are modified with armoured plates and welded-on machine guns. Others have rocket launchers or anti-air guns mounted on the back, and one has what looks like a ludicrously oversized flamethrower. Eighties tribesmen standing in the transport vehicles are shouting and waving at the crowd…

Some of the trucks have bound slaves instead. I spot a few heavily worn vault suits amongst Canaanite cotton and leather and patched pre-War clothing that could have come from just about anywhere. **[I reach out]** but I don't feel any Sky Reavers or Sky Walkers down there. That's not surprising; we only got a border with Eighties-controlled territory fairly recently and they don't have much of a presence near us.

**A song? A song!**

My eyes widen as I do hear a telepathic voice, and…

**Will it join us? Will it sing to the hole in the sky? The chorus is so quiet now.**

That's a Crimson Acolyte. I didn't think they'd all died, but I'm going to need to get on that.

But first things first. Stealth field off, acceleration increased, Ride of the Valkyries on external speakers, prepare to launch flares and skim!

My saucer zooms through the air towards the back of the convoy, burning magnesium flying from the air like falling stars all around me. Some of the people below duck or scrabble for their guns, while others shout and cheer.

All part of the fun.

I pull up, go nose up, spin and then aileron roll into a drop back onto the parade. At the point Thunderbird has brought the slow-moving convoy to a halt and is standing in his seat to watch me. He isn't laughing. And neither is Wyatt.

I level out, put the saucer into a plate spin and fire off a new round of flares as I drift towards the front of the convoy using the anti-gravity system and my momentum. The leadership all have guns in their hands, though they're all trying to conceal it at least a little. I stop the spin just as I pass Thunderbird, dropping to just above the ground and popping the canopy.

"War Chief Thunderbird. Merry Christmas."

His eyes narrow slightly as he gazes into mine. "Chief Krono. Surprised you're here now. Not surprised you came."

"Then you know why I'm here." I raise my right hand in greeting. "Wyatt."

Wyatt guns the engine on his… Bike.. chariot thing, and pulls up level with Thunderbird. Normally that would be an insult, but he needs to be involved in this talk. "Krono. Nice ride. Build it yourself?"

One of the slow-on-the-uptake lieutenants in one of the cars behind them make an ooooh noise. Suggesting that a man can't work on his own car is a pretty serious insult both amongst the Eighties and in Two Sun. Fortunately, I can repair most of the systems in a saucer. It wouldn't be safe for me to fly on my own if I couldn't.

"Did some work. What happened to your car?"

He waves his right hand dismissively. "I drive it all the time. This is a parade."

"That thing's going to have rarity value, soon. So." I turn back to Thunderbird. "Reason I'm here. The Legion's going to be dead soon. The N.C.R. wants to talk to you about the future."

"Ain't nothing to talk about. I-Eighty is ours. Republic might beat the Legion, but then their army is going to be spread out all over the desert. No dice."

"The N.C.R. will offer to normalise relations and recognise your ownership of your current territory. They will grant you the right to travel the I-Eighty in their territory as you please, subject to their laws. And they will agree to begin making repairs to the road, with the aim of restoring it to its original state." He looks mildly intrigued by the last point, and unmoved by the rest. "You could even visit Sac City again."

"So I can visit my own home. Nice. And what else?"

"You release your slaves and prohibit slavery."

His eyes widen in surprise, then he chuckles. "I meant for me. For us. But that's it? Not even a truck load of caps? Nothing?"

I nod. "Nothing. Can I have a quick answer? I'm having the in-laws over."

"Get outa here, psyker. Stop wasting my time."

I shrug. "As you wish."

And then I sit back down in the cockpit, close the canopy and accelerate directly upwards.

Activate target designator. Open channel to vertibird air wing. Lock on to the lead cars, anti-air trucks and significant concentrations of armed men.

"Targets received, missiles away."

I watch as Thunderbird frowns at the sudden increase in illumination. And then I smile as Helios fires a giant burning beam down from orbit, completely obliterating him, his car, and most of the Eighties leadership! Missiles begin slamming into cars a moment later, fuel detonating, fragments of destroyed vehicle scything through anyone nearly!

Then I switch on my own guns, pulses of energy precisely striking anyone who even looks at the slave trucks. I designate a new batch of targets as the people manning the few fixed anti-air guns in Wendover work out that they're being attacked, and only a handful of hopeful shots are fired before the second wave of missiles silences those as well.

As this point everyone who can run is running, crowds and militia alive fleeing for cover. Some try to drive away, but with the wrecks blocking the road a good many are forced to abandon their vehicles and flee on foot.

My Christmas present and bride-price to my father-in-law: the rest of Utah.

"Convoy destroyed. Bring in the transports."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Working Relationship

April 18th, 2013
Morning

"Mitchell?"

My youngest/eldest grandson looks up from the scroll he's studying, distinctively black eyes alighting on my face for a moment before his mouth remembers to smile. He isn't a naturally sombre youth in the way that his brother is, but he is a good deal more nervous. I once asked Pavlos why -after appropriately bracing myself- and he said that it was because he reached his present physical maturity without the years of experience that a normal person would have. And as a consequence Mitchell doesn't have the instincts for social situations that other adults have.

I remember the conversation well, because he then paid me a rare compliment. He commended my wisdom in crafting Diana as a babe, rather than as a maiden. Honesty compelled me to tell him that not making her a babe never crossed my mind, which caused him to smile roguishly and exclaim that I made the decision by wise and well-honed instinct.

"Grandma?"

His eyes move from me to the scroll, and for a moment I wonder if he's found one of those scrolls. Much as I might wish it otherwise, Amazon erotica is.. generating a rather large part of our foreign currency income at the moment, and I'm not sure if it's due to the quality or the novelty. But, no, or at least not directly. It's Hippasia's work on familial relationships. I remember it well, because I was there when the knife-marks which repeats every few inches were made. Hippasia was a Discordian, and thankfully one of the ones who left for the mainland rather than one of those who sacrificed themselves. She entered the cult with that scroll; decrying the female group family structure and calling for a change to what Diana calls 'the nuclear family'. It was ridiculous; she was born on Themyscira. She'd never even seen one.

"What are you studying?"

"Families."

He answers in a relaxed frame of mind, but I see it in his face as he realises that I might be offended by what he said and begins to try to ward off my anger.

"I-. I mean-."

I take the bench next to him, then reach out to put my hand on his arm.

"It's alright, Mitchell. Calm yourself."

Gratifyingly, he does.

"It's-. Amazons have… Mothers."

"And we have fathers. They did not use to play a large role in our lives beyond our conception, but we-. Until Pavlos involved himself, every Amazon knew that she had a father and most knew who he was."

"But if they didn't have anything to do with… Ah, being a father, how come they all know?"

"To… Avoid incestuous pairings later in life."

"Oh. Ah, right." He frowns, his eyes avoiding me for a moment before alighting on where my hand remains on his forearm. Then he lifts his eyes to me. "Did..? You have any brothers?"

"No. At least, I do not believe so. For a very long time I believed that I was my mother's only child. Then Pavlos brought me word of Astarte. I suppose the fact that my memory was altered means that I may well have had other brothers or sisters than I no longer remember." I asked him to show me a picture of her face, in the hopes that it might stir my memories. It did not, though I could not deny the family resemblance.

"And your dad?"

"Ares."

He nods. "What kind of.. relationship do you have with him?"

"Ares has always been an unwelcome presence in my life. I have spoken to him directly on only a handful of occasions, and then it was to reject any of the plans he had made for me or for Diana."

"Because they were..? Um, bad? Or because fathers don't do that in Amazon culture?"

"Because they were bad." I sigh as I call the scene to mind. "He wanted me to carry on my mother's work. To continue her wars, her slaughter and subjugations. He was very unhappy that I didn't want to."

"Was he..? More unhappy because you were his daughter, or..? Do you think he'd have been unhappy anyway."

"Having me as a daughter was a point of ego for him. He was more unhappy because someone he saw as an extension of himself wasn't doing what he wanted them to." I shake my head. "He bears no love for me, and I bear none for him."

"Do you think..?"

And I watch as his fears and uncertainties defeat him, and his eyes go back to the scroll as his mouth refuses to continue.

"Do I think what, Mitchell?" I pat his arm. "I won't be angry."

"Do you think..? You could have had a relationship with him? Maybe… If you'd fought… I don't know, big monsters or something? Would he have been okay with that?"

"Ares is not Athena, Mitchell. Ares stands for the most brutal slaughters. Morals, goals, even martial skill, are second to the slaughter and to humans becoming savage monsters. That is what he revels in."

"You don't think he could meet you halfway?"

"Would you accept a sword that would only cut the skin of your enemy?"

He nods. "Yes? That sounds really useful. You'd never have to worry about causing an internal injury by mistake. And if you were sparring-."

I pat his arm, and he stops talking. "Would Ares?"

"I guess not. So it was just… Be exactly what he wants you to be, or he didn't want to know."

"No, he knew. He took it as a personal insult. I would say that we have a worse relationship than the one he has with Amazons who are not his daughter."

Though still better than the one the Heraklya have with their father. But I don't understand why Mitchell is so concerned.

"I thought that you and Conner had a better relationship with Clark now. Has something happened?"

"No!" Mitchell emphatically shakes his head. "He's great! I was thinking about our other father."

…

"Lex Luthor?" He nods. "I thought that he was your brother's father, but not yours."

He shrugs. "He had me made. I don't have any of his genetics… I mean, I guess my father is Jor-El. But I can't talk to him."

I take a moment within my head to hypocritically chastise my daughter's reticence in the field of romance.

"Do you want to talk to Lex Luthor?"

"I don't know? I know he's… A criminal, and he made me so that he'd have a weapon to use against Superman, and there's… Basically no chance. But Paul tried to.. persuade him to stop being evil, and he thought he nearly had it."

"Pavlos… Is a remarkable young man, but I have known his judgements at times to be a… A little…"

"Weird?"

"Outlandish."

"Yeah." Mitchell nods. "But you know what he says about evildoers?"

"Which thing in particular are you thinking about?"

"You should either try and make them better… Or you should kill them so they can't hurt anyone else. Or…" He shifts awkwardly, then manages to look me in the eyes. "Get a god you know to.. hit them real hard with a giant hammer?"

I still can't stop myself smiling, though I imagine if it had happened to anyone else it would be a smile that Ares would approve of.

"It has been known to work, but I do not recommend it for you. Am I to understand then that you want to redeem your father?"

He nods. "I'd like to try."

I nod hesitantly. "I think that this is something that you should speak to your mother about."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd November 1999
03:46 GMT
Because local time isn't Earth time and goa'uld aren't big on precise timekeeping.

Second Prime Abrax salutes fist-to-chest as Lord Mahes enters the courtyard, followed by his First Prime. Lord Agni smiles when he sees him, and walks over to greet him.

"Mahes! Have you been innovating?"

Mahes grins as he approaches, then grabs him by the shoulders. Then they hug each other, which is… Just about the most ungoa'uld thing I've ever seen. I mean, sure, I fixed the lesion's in Agni's brain when he turned up for the meeting, but that wouldn't change how Mahes behaved.

"No!" They separate, and Mahes pulls Agni in my direction gesturing to me. "I got someone to do it for me!"

"You'd need to." His eyes take in Abrax and then move to me.

"This is Lord Mammon. He has many interesting ideas. We're here to see if any of them are actually any good."

I nod. "I would not waste your time. If-."

Stomping armoured feet sound from the other direction, and-.

"Lady Heset?" I… Frown. I didn't even know that she was on Bubastis. I certainly didn't invite her here. I mean, we're feeding back to Bastet later-. "I… Didn't expect you."

Her First Prime takes up station behind her as she moves to the edge of the observation area. "Lord Bastet asked me to observe on her behalf. She has high expectations for your work."

"Alright then. Second Prime?"

He breaths in. "Jaffa! Kree!"

And out march our training squads, each arrayed in different armour. Mahes and Agni both start staring at the new armour types, focusing on each of the points of novelty. Heset's eyes just sort of rove over the whole lot. I… Actually don't know how old she is, but it's a little surprising that she's as ignorant of military matters as that implies. Faking it, perhaps? Or more interested in the political implications?

I.. suppose that it doesn't really matter. Even if she lies to Bastet, that's easy enough to fix by just showing Bastet my results directly.

"Now, as you can see, this is the standard Jaffa armour. It is included for the sake of comparison. This-" I continue down the line. "-looks similar, but it's actually my recreation of the armour Supreme System Lord Ra issued to his soldiers. Step forwards, Jaffa."

They stamp forward, Ma'Toks at the ready.

"There are several differences between the two." Both Jaffa engage their helmets, lamassu masks extending over their heads. "Ra's soldiers have integrated sensors and air purifiers, sound and light protection. Their Ma'Toks are designed for more powerful energy discharges, though they do exhaust their batteries a little faster."

I nod to Abrax, and he releases a pair of test drones. Small balls with weak anti-gravity drives and force fields, they serve as a decent test target.

"We've reduced the power output for this demonstration. Fire."

The Jaffa raise their weapons at the viffing drones. They've both practiced this exercise before, dozens of times with a variety of weapons. But whichever of them used the weapons and armour, this contest always had the same result.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

Ma'Toks aren't great against small fast-moving targets. They're slow firing, and the plasma moves relatively slowly.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

When using the same weapons, these two Jaffa are about as accurate as each other.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

The chance of them hitting a slow moving target is about equal. The issue is that when the drone dodges out of the normal helmet wearer's field of view, he has to turn to reacquire it. The Jaffa with Ra's helmet on doesn't. He knows where it is even outside of his field of view. In theory he could just point the staff without turning, but everyone found that so counter-instinctual that we gave up making it standard procedure. Even so, he's more accurate and acquires the dodging target faster.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

Agni looks curious as the Jaffa new helmet quickly acquires a lead. "How much more powerful is that Ma'Tok?"

"Jaffa, shoot the wall. Full power."

They both lower their Ma'Toks and fire.

WOOMPF! WOOMPF-BOOM!

The normal Ma'Tak leaves a blackened scar in the stone. The more powerful version punches a hole, sends stones flying and giving us a view of the interior corridor.

An extremely nervous chambermaid peers around the edge of the hole. I wave my right hand dismissively.

"Carry on with your duties."

Agni grins. "I like it!"

"Why?" I shrug as he frowns at me. "Jaffa, switch."

The Jaffa with the regular staff puts it down and draws his Zat'nik'tel. They both resume firing, and while the Jaffa with Ra's helmet is more accurate, the increased rate of fire means that the Jaffa with the Zat'nik'tel is scoring hits more quickly.

"The heavy staff is more destructive, but against most targets it's inefficient. One shot from a Zat'nik'tel will disable a Jaffa in normal armour, and the second shot kills. We ran wargames where one squad would use Ma'Tok and the other would use Zat'nik'tel, and outside of long range engagements over open ground, the squad using Zat'nik'tel always came out ahead."

"Surely their armour would weaken the impact?"

I nod. "It does." Sort of. It's more that the first hit isn't quite so disabling; the second hit still reliably kills the target. "But it's still disabling, and with the higher rate of fire the reduced lethality per shot doesn't matter."

I point to the Jaffa with the heavy staff, and send him back to line. Another Jaffa comes forwards. This one is wearing a far heavier version of the normal armour. It's not power armour, but the armour plates are about as thick as it's practical for a Jaffa to wear. On the left arm is a tower shield of similar thickness, and in his right he carries a Ma'Tak. He stands a short distance away from the Jaffa with the Zat'nik'tel and points his shield at him.

"Fire."

The Zat'nik'tel pulses, bright crackling beam hitting the shield and doing absolutely nothing.

"This sort of armour is effectively immune to the Zat'nik'tel. It's also close to the form of armour our armies wore before we learned to work trinium well enough to create chain mail. Switch weapon."

The Jaffa reattaches his Zat'nik'tel to his bracer, then crouches down to recover his Ma'Tok. He fires, the bolts knocking the heavy armour Jaffa back a little but not appearing to cause an injury.

"The downside is that it's not practical to wield a normal Ma'Tok at the same time, and the wearer's agility is dramatically reduced." The armour-wearer tries balancing his Ma'Tok on the shield, but it's clearly awkward. "Combining it with a Zat'nik'tel works, but it makes things a little awkward when they face other heavy armour wearers. They can't hurt each other. But if we combine the two…"

The basic Jaffa raises his Ma'Tok in two hands and moves behind the heavy Jaffa, who ducks slightly behind his shield. He's effectively protecting his colleague, who is free to fire back.

"The armour will allow the wearer to survive a hit from a staff cannon, but they will be disabled by the hit. Thank you, gentlemen."

They both come to attention, and then return to their place in the line.

"The next is something inspired by the Tau'ri. It's called 'camouflage'."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 20th, 2013
07:30 Exactly

Once, the IRS could tell you that I was the richest man in America. If they felt like being unusually forthcoming, they could confirm my own claim to be the third richest man on Earth.

Though that would only count publically disclosed holdings, and would rely on the lumpenproletariat's ability to accurately determine asset value. The truth is that I am far and away the richest man on Earth, and by some measures the most powerful.

And then I spent two months under the influence of the Anti-Life, as did the rest of the world.

Mercy passes me the overnight folder. I already know what ninety percent of it will say, but it's always worth knowing the precise degree to which the Justice League's takeover has progressed.

Western politicians have been making unfunded spending commitments since the end of the World War Two-

My eyes unavoidably drift to a watercolour on my office's side wall.

-and once the worker base stopped expanding and started contracting, have stuck to currency depreciation as the correct method for avoiding the consequences of their electorate's spendthrift habits. It wasn't a problem for me, as the correct response was obviously to treat money like any other depreciating asset and invest resources elsewhere. My entire asset management system was premised on the continuation of that policy.

And now the world reserve currency is the Justice League Medallion, and not only are they not going to depreciate it, it's backed by precious metal.

Precious metal currency in the 21st century? Widely traded precious metal currency in the 21st century? The banking sector literally doesn't have the skills to handle it. So I have to review investment decisions and forecasts made by formerly competent employees who are suddenly out of their depths.

I glance over to the bookcase at Professor Prokopios' Principles of Finance. He must be beside himself with joy.

Someone might as well be.

Ah, yes. The President continues to be a witless buffoon. I wasn't expecting a great deal from President Knight; his only real virtue was how agreeable he was to doing whatever it was that the last person he spoke to said. The cheapest President I've ever bought, and without any of the truculent moralising that Horne was inclined to do. Making him go in the right direction required not just money but time and attention as well.

I always thought that someone with the ego to dress in a skin tight blue costume with a red cape would refuse to take over the world indirectly. Someone so brazen would never stoop to covert means. Their ego wouldn't allow it. But I suppose that anyone of moderate intellect can employ people capable of pursuing useful methods that don't come naturally to themselves.

Ah, yes, I see that the Medallion is to be treated both as a currency and a unit of precious metal, and the Treasury is once again ignoring the part of the Constitution that makes it clear that issuing currency is their job and theirs alone. I'm a little surprised that Batman is so well-prepared for this eventuality…

But only a little.

The most frustrating part is that I can't do anything about it. Nothing that wouldn't be foolishly self-destructive, at least. The sort of people I would usually work through or with had a higher than average death rate during the Anti-Life period. Of those that survived, a surprising number had a fatal attack of conscience after the… Whatever it was that ended it.

It's incredible. The Justice League used a global mind control effect even more invasive than the one they were fighting, and the countries that survived are happy to give them the keys to the metaphorical city.

The countries that they allow to survive. If I could get a better idea what happened to Atlantis-.

"Sir?"

Otis has a very narrow skill set. Usually I like that in my employees, because it means that they're more likely to stay where I put them. In Otis's case his difficulty in paying attention to social cues has given me more than a few headaches over the years, but in exchange I get a very capable and completely loyal Chief of Security.

Trying to imply that he should wait until after my daily update before trying to brief me was a total waste of time.

I flick through to the Security sheet. Some progress on tracking 'LexCorp employees displaced during the Anti-Life period', but the only one found overnight was found dead. That leaves some sort of problem with one of the top security sites-. No, he'd just have woken me if that was it. Direct instructions he can manage.

"Yes, Otis?"

He pulls his tablet out of his belt. "Sir, we've begun getting applications for summer internships."

I don't have interns working directly for me, but if otherwise intelligent people want to work for me for no money, who am I to stop them?

"We did the usual background checks, and one… Well." He puts his tablet down on my desk and slides it towards me.

I have a fully integrated wireless communications suite, constantly monitored by a completely loyal AI. He has access. He could-.

Oh, at least he isn't using print-outs any more.

I look-.

"Ah. I see. Is this genuine?"

"Details match the fake background the Justice League invented. The next stage would be a call-back, but I thought I should run it by you first."

Match's face stares back at me from the application summary.

Why?

The Justice League has shapeshifters and magicians. As well as the financial resources to send someone with no prior Justice League history. If they wanted to infiltrate LexCorp they have far better options than knocking on the front door.

Given how I'm forced to use their ridiculous currency, they hardly need more control levers.

If it was Conner I could almost understand it. It took me a bullet to finally resolve my own issues with my father, and the bullet was worth more than he was. And since I'm still alive… 'As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool returns to his folly' and all that. But why does the failed project want to visit the company? Doing the ground-work for an eventual cover job? There's no chance of me paying a Justice League affiliate for anything, much less a duplicate of the alien.

There isn't going to be any way to turn this into a way to get him back under control. I'm not going to waste time considering it. Between the loss of specialist personnel and the fact that the League will do daily checks on him, that approach just isn't viable. I don't think that he's stupid enough for a soft-sell to work. What the Justice League has on me might not be admissible in court, but it's hard to square the actions I've been associated with and my genuine end goals.

I take a moment to mentally curse Klarion. I nearly had Orange Lantern on-side! What part of 'distraction'-?

Ah… Sunk cost. Well and truly sunk and quite costly.

I let my higher functions work on this issue while I read the rest of his application. Good school grades, though like his primogenitor I don't know if that's the actual limits of his abilities or just a good cover; intelligent enough to give a good impression but not intelligent enough to draw excessive attention. No, it has to be an act. He's had access to genomorph educational neuroprogramming.

Do the League think that I don't know-? No. Might he? No, this is signed by his adopted mother. He would have had to speak to her about it.

Is it a joke of some sort?

Possible. He didn't have any kind of sense of humor as Project: Match, and none of the intelligence I've received since then has made any reference to one. A dare seems slightly more likely; Robin once sent in an application as me, and I could see him goading 'Mitchell Kent' into doing the same thing.

So in summary: threats? Negligible. Opportunities? None. Response?

"I have no opinion. Do the usual screening and follow the normal procedure. If he gets in then he gets in. If he doesn't then he doesn't. Is there anything else?"

Otis recovers his tablet. "No sir."

"Then you're dismissed. I have a global economy to repair."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th November 1999
12:54 GMT

Bastet walks along the line of ballistic dummies, observing the damage patterns. The walls of the courtyard are lined with her Jaffa, though Heset is once again accompanying her. And Heset is wearing an… Odd perfume. Surprisingly, perfumes are a common way for a goa'uld to display their wealth. I avoid wearing them when I can get away with it, but I've had to familiarise myself with the work of the leading perfumers working in Bastet's territory. Don't recognise that one, so I guess she's showing off by importing.

"I see that your work has been productive once again. Lord Mahes and Lord Agni are well pleased with your weapons and armour."

I nod. "Alas, it will be several human generations before I have the industrial capacity to outfit your armies myself. Once you have determined how you wish to arm them, I can train your artificers in the production process."

True, but misleading. The Altairan androids are perfectly capable of making everything I displayed, but they're repairing their world and don't really have industrial capacity to spare. Not unless I could offer them something in return that would make it worth their while. Keeping them willing to trade with me at all is well worth keeping the pressure off; I need teachers that don't come from Earth more than my gou'ald allies need better armour faster.

Besides, Roboneil is getting angsty about the Altairan military wanting their gate facility back. If they actually say 'join up or get out' then I'm reasonably confident that they'll take my offer.

"And… This." She approaches one of her Jaffa, who is holding one of my novel weapons. "What is this for?"

"It's a prototype, my Lord. The Ma'Tok's functionality as a ranged weapon is compromised by ceremonial and melee considerations. I was curious as to the efficacy of using the standard technologies in a pure ranged weapon."

"What did you discover?"

I glance at Bastet's First Prime, who nods. "Jaffa, kree."

The Jaffa raises the plasma repeater to her shoulder, sights an unused target and pulls the trigger.

…-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp!

Bastet looks decidedly interested. "Was achieving the higher rate of fire really that easy?"

"No. The firing chambers rotate internally, all constantly drawing power from the battery so that each is ready to fire again as swiftly as possible after discharging. And the shot are -by default- less powerful than a standard Ma'Tok blast. They'll still inflict a crippling or lethal injury through normal Jaffa armour, but they'll be less effective against other defences. And the maintenance complexity is significantly greater. If you decide to make use of the final version, I would strongly recommend increasing the level of training Jaffa receive in maintenance rituals. You would also need to increase the spare parts and fuel cell allocation Jaffa formations receive by about… Half again?" I shrug. "Once I have a final version, I will be able to give you a more precise recommendation."

"What do you suggest the Jaffa wielding it does if the enemy closes to melee range?"

I walk over to the Jaffa holding it, make a fist and bring it down hard on the gun twice with a thump-thump sound.

"The construction is solid enough that it can take some rough treatment, but they'd probably be best off just dropping it and drawing a knife. Or trying to line up a shot; the reduced length makes it much easier to manoeuvre." Hm. "The Tau'ri have an attachment point for a knife on their projectile long arms, but I'm not convinced of the efficacy of that against Jaffa armour."

Bastet turns and gives me her full attention. "You have developed nothing for melee combat?"

"Nothing I'd want to actually deploy." I mime pulling something off my belt, and brandish a shock baton. "I was considering developing something like this for police units. It works as a club, but it also incorporates a low-output variant of the Zat'nik'tel beam." I walk over to a test dummy and swing the baton into its chest. As it hits, there's the characteristic che-ow noise and energy transfers from the club to the target. "I wouldn't recommend it in combat against a peer opponent, however. It was made for riotous mobs of humans."

"And against other Jaffa?"

"I have two prototypes, neither of which are really… Ready…"

"I would like to see them anyway."

I nod, handing off the baton to one of the Jaffa observers. "The first is intended for… Ceremonial purposes more than anything. Perhaps executions. It's… Lethal, but…"

I reach into my robes and take Bastet's Claw out of subspace, then put it on my right hand.

"It looks like a decorative glove or gauntlet, but if you-" I pull my fingers back and push my palm forwards. "-gesture-" 'Claws' of burning plasma extend from the finger tips. "-like that-" I slash, and the training dummy acquires five vicious lines through its armour and across its chest. "-it takes a reasonable-."

Ow!

I wince, shake my hand to put the claws out and then heal my hand.

"A reasonable melee weapon. I haven't got the plasma containment quite right yet, and it's really only good for a few slashes before the small power cell is expended, but it does work."

Bastet is smiling, and from the glance she shares with her First Prime I think that she is pleased as well.

"And what else?"

I return the claw to subspace under my robe, and take out the blast module.

"This attaches to the bracer of a Jaffa's primary arm." I attach it around my right forearm. "It's not particularly large, and would easily pass unnoticed. But if someone closes to close range-" I raise my arm and flap my hand down.

WOOMPF!

The slashed target is visibly charred by the unrestrained plasma blast, as are its neighbours and the wall behind it.

"-you get a single plasma blast. It lacks the confinement of the bolts fired by normal weapons: it is indiscriminate up close and is ineffectual at range. But in close quarters you can't miss and the target will go down. Aiming is simply a matter of angling your arm and by default the trigger is dropping your hand. If the Jaffa is using one of Ra's helmets, it can be triggered using the display."

"Is it ready for deployment?"

"The design? Certainly. It's simple. Anyone trained in Ma'Tok creation can make it. I have not yet fully tested how useful it will be, but if you so desire-."

"I do."

I give her a shallow bow. "Then I shall include it with the schematic package."

"And do you have any other weapons with which to tantalise us?"

"I'm working on a number of things. Guns which use electromagnetic and gravitic devices to fire projectiles, simple explosive plasma grenades, simpler energy fields for defence… The grenades are ready -they're essentially a thrown omni-directional version of the arm weapon- but the others are… Well, they're technically functional, but I wouldn't want to even use them for field testing. And you would need to train the factory workers anew. The gravitic projector in particular would most likely require a minor god to assemble it for the foreseeable future. I… Also have copies of the weapons the Tau'ri use… Just in case you wished to implicate them in anything."

"If they wish to worry Apophis' flanks, they are welcome to do so. It is no concern of ours." I perform another shallow bow. "I am pleased with your work, Lord Mammon. What reward do you want in return for this service?"

I shrug, then shake my head. "Merely the opportunity to continue with my social research. I… Genuinely have no complaints about my position. It is an easy thing, to serve a System Lord who is exactly as you would have her be."

Bastet smiles proudly. "Then I will simply have to think of something myself. It is a poor System Lord who does not reward her Underlords when they serve her well."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 23rd, 2013
16:12 EST

"…Match, B two five."

And I'm home.

I know Conner likes living in the mountain more than the Embassy, but I-. Don't. I like having people around who can answer questions about things I don't understand. I like living somewhere that's basically a normal building.

A couple of Amazon guards come to attention as I walk out. I…

"Um. Hey."

"Hey, Prince Mitchell!"

Or as normal as I can get.

I don't think she's making fun of me. I'm pretty sure, she's trying to include me. But…

But being in a position where I actually have to rule Themyscira is something that I've had nightmares about. And not just because Grandma and Mom and Conner would have to be dead. Even if they just went on vacation and made me Regent or something, just the idea of trying to fill a role I don't understand-.

"Hey they'uh, Mitch!" Ms. Candy smiles at me as she sees me "School aht alreadih?"

"Uh, yeah. I was just hanging out with the team for a while. I'm… I'm gunna go do my homework now."

"They'uh ain't no need t' gaw rushing raht awf. Y'all cuud spent a littul mowah tahm with Connuh."

"He had plans with M'gann." I shrug. "I don't want to be a third wheel."

She thinks for a moment. "Weyul, maybe she cuud set you urp with one a' her freyunds?"

It takes an act of will to prevent me recoiling. Dating? Me? Some things genomorphs can't teach you. I don't wanna try that for… Uh, a couple of years, maybe? Definitely not until college. I'm just glad that no Amazons have tried asking me out.

"I… I don't think that's a good idea. Ah, yet! Yet. Ah. Maybe sometime."

Okay, she doesn't look happy about that. I don't think she has any friends with kids my-. Ah, physical age, but she might-.

Her cell phone goes off, and she reluctantly decides to let it go to answer.

"Themysciran Embassy, Etta Candy speakin'. Uh-huh." I try walking away, but she holds up her left hand like a stop sign. "Ye-uh. Awl let her know." She's frowning as she puts the cell down. "Mitchell Kent, don't tell me ya'll applahed t' work at LexCorp?"

"Okay." I make for the exit to the residency, but then her hand's on my chest.

"C'mon now, young mahn."

"Did they say yes? No?"

"Front deysk gaht a fellah raht they'uh, askin' t'do a face-to-face."

Huh. That was quick.

"We usually let folks from LexCorp cool theyuh heel fer a good long wahyl." She regards me sternly. "Does you tell Diana 'bowt this?"

"Yeah. And Grandma and Conner. M'gann and Zatanna are going to check nothing.. bad happens to me while I'm there. If they even accept me." … "Is Mom here?"

"She's head'n raht down, and you should too."

I nod. "Okay." I'm half way to the door in relief before I remember… Myself. "Ah, thanks! Sorry!"

She just makes a one-handed shooing motion, so I get out while I can.

Couldn't Mom have hired more guys? I have enough aunts as it is.

Conner said that he found it weird how full up the Embassy is these days, but I don't really remember anything else. People researching Ancient Greece, because the original manuscripts don't leave the Embassy. People doing tourist preparation courses, mostly from Themyscira to New York rather than the other way around, because Themyscira has… No tourist infrastructure at all. People from other embassies, though some of them are just making excuses to spend time with the attractive warrior women.

Conner was right about super-hearing. And Kara was way wrong. Hearing thousands of sounds in a city makes it easier to filter all of it out. It's just white noise. Background. At least it is for me. But once you learn what a guy getting a boner sounds like… The way the heart rate changes, the shape of the pulse changes, and the sound of skin slowly sliding across cloth... You can't not hear it. Even if you wish you could.

Julia's on the front desk, and she points at one of the front meeting rooms. So it's not someone Mom already knows not to trust. I mean, LexCorp employs thousands of people, so it's not like they're all… Cloning aliens and turning them into slave weapons. Some of them are just regular people.

I look through the wall. Mom's whole body blocks the radiation bandwidths I can see-.

I wince.

But she mostly wears her armour bodice around the Embassy like she is right now, after the one time she didn't and I couldn't look her in the face for a week. Conner thought it was pretty funny. The one time he was glad to not be fully kryptonian. The other.. woman, has regular skin and bones. One old break on her right arm almost totally healed, just a bit of extra thickness where the break was. I mean, sure, I can see peoples' bones and hear their heartbeats, but that doesn't mean I learn the pattern for everyone. I don't think I've seen her before…

I knock on the door, and Mom turns towards me and nods. But I wait until she says something, because…

Okay, LexCorp knows that I'm 'Project: Match', but… I'm not openly kryptonian, because… We're all agreeing to pretend to pretend that I'm not? It made sense when she explained it. I guess it kind of makes sense when I'm going to look exactly like Clark Kent when I'm older, and if everyone-. Everyone-everyone knew I was kryptonian it could make his life awkward. But there are Superman look-alikes around-.

Whatever. It doesn't hurt anyone. Other than my head a little. The point is 'Mitchell Kent' can't see through walls or doors, so I pretend I can't either.

"Come in, Mitchell!"

I push the door open and walk in, smiling a little at the woman in the suit.

"Hey, Mom." I look expectantly at the woman. "Etta said we had a visitor from LexCorp?"

"Yes." The woman nods, then gets up and holds out her right hand. "Eve Teschmacher, Business Development Manager. I'm overseeing the internship program."

I shake her hand, because I didn't see a kryptonite ring and if there was one I'd be feeling it by now anyway.

"Hey. I'm.. Mitchell Kent. Ah. I only sent the application in a few days ago. I wasn't expecting a visit this quick."

"We don't get a lot of foreign ambassador's children applying to work with us." She returns to her seat and I sit down next to Mom. "Other than as joke applications sometimes. And since I was in New York I thought I'd come over and visit. Skip a few rounds of background checks."

I.. nod. Ah. "Oh wait. You're not a business development manager. You're…"

"Head of the Business Development Department, yes. If your application is successful there's a good chance you'll be working under me!"

Oh. Right. It wouldn't really make much sense for some random kid to start out working with Lex Luthor himself. Or for them to put Wonder Woman's son anywhere near anything criminal, even if they thought that he didn't have superpowers.

She smiles, turning so that her body faces me directly. "How about I tell you what we do, and you can tell me what you think?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 20th, 2013
5 Hours Before Lunch

Normal procedure, normal procedure…

I unlock my paperwork safe and pull out the 'special recruitment' binder. Mr. Luthor's big on computers for organizing stuff, but I've always preferred to put stuff in physical space. I mean, think about it: is it easier to have five or six different tablets on the go or just open a binder and take out six sheets of paper? I keep the electronic copies up to date as well, sure, but I'd never get anything done if I had to scroll through a three hundred page document on a tablet to find anything.

Normal procedure.

I'm frowning. I'd have thought that Project: Match would be getting the full mushroom treatment. That's what I'd have done if it wasn't a project that Mr. Luthor's friends had been directly involved with. Stick him doing retail inventory for a month, something like that. No risk of him seeing something that he's not supposed to, and no risk that he starts acting out and demanding investigations because he thinks he's been excluded.

But there's normal procedure and normal procedure.

Normal procedure for a break-in is that my on-site team is notified. Desk organises an evacuation and the automatic lock-ins, and the active team goes hunting. Whether whoever it is survives or not depends on where they are, what they've seen and if they're armed. But normal procedure for Superman breaking in is a lot different.

We can't kill Superman.

We've got a few kryptonite lasers and I think one of the science teams is working with anti-matter, and those could theoretically do the job. But the fallout from killing him would wreck the company, even if we were acting inside the law doing it. So depending on what he's doing, normal procedure for Superman is to call the police, a friendly newspaper or radio journalist, record everything and remotely flash the hard drive of anything incriminating that he's heading towards. Usually when he breaks in he just heads for Mr. Luthor's office anyway.

For other people with superpowers it's the same sort of thing. Top-tier powers? Don't bother. Hero or not, they're out of our league. Our orders are to cover an evacuation and then get out ourselves. Mid-tier? Depends on who they are and who's on-site. Some, my team can handle with specialist weapons. Other times we subcontract to one of Mr. Luthor's 'special' contacts, but that only works if they're a known criminal or we're really sure whoever we're calling in can kill them. Even if they don't have a criminal record in America, it's usually not worth the risk.

On the other side of things, LexCorp actively tries to recruit people with superpowers. I went with Mr. Luthor when he recruited Hugo Danner, and that was… That was more effort than a potential employee with superpowers usually gets. Totally worth it in his case, of course, but I honestly can't think of a single background check I've done on someone with superpowers that hasn't involved them getting offered something, even if it's not the role they applied for.

When-.

No, hang on, let's check that. On the tablet. Let's see… Background check summaries, superpowers…

Heha! Oh yeah, there was one. Had the 'superpower' to squirt blood out of his tear ducts or something like that. And he had no other skills. Wasn't even worth vivisecting.

But that was the only one. And even after he squirted the poor woman interviewing him, he only got a few completely proportionate bruises. I remember it because he squirted Evans too, and he -a man who once walked three miles after a helicopter crash with two bullets in him- spent the rest of the day muttering 'What the fuck?' to himself.

And so normal procedure for a kryptonian isn't normal procedure for a normal high schooler. Standard assessment here we go. Powers? Very strong. Control? Used to be terrible, but, tablet, call up the up-to-date assessment based on reports from assets in Happy Harbor… Pre-misery wave unfortunately, but it'll do. If he's not a raging berserker now and he wasn't four months ago, whatever was wrong is probably fixed.

"It looks like you're getting information on Project: Match."

I'm on my feet and staring at the door. Mr. Luthor doesn't usually-.

"Would you like some help with that?"

It's the AI. I sit down again. "That's not funny. Can't you get your own voice?"

"I was programmed to respect everything about Alexander Luthor. Why would I select anyone else's voice?"

"So you can be your own man?

"I could, but I wasn't programmed to value that." Mr. Luthor's face appears on my tablet, another good reason to prefer paper. I don't know why Mr. Luthor hasn't told him to change it. "Is Mitchell to be subjected to extraordinary recruitment?"

"No. Normal-" I run my finger down the page until I get to the exact line. "-recruitment, external, active, conventional."

"Conventional?"

I shrug. I'm sure there's a camera in here somewhere for him to see out of. "Mister Luthor said to follow the normal procedure. Project: Match fits all the requirements for being a high value asset. Even if we just got him replacing satellite launch vehicles for a couple of weeks, that's a saving of a few million dollars."

The AI makes a show of looking thoughtful, as if it can't outthink any human on the planet a million times over. "He also has kryptonian hearing and vision. Not all LexCorp facilities are lead-lined or fitting with kryptonian-grade sound insulation."

Happy Harbor… Happy Harbour? Guess it's an old British town.

"No, look, there's a LexFoods farm not too far from there. No special projects at all."

"That you know about."

I roll my eyes. "If there was something special I needed to know, Mister Luthor would have mentioned it. The aim is to make him identify with LexCorp, and Superman grew up on a farm. He's predisposed to feel positively about it."

"Check his file again. He goes to school in Happy Harbour, but he lives in New York."

"Then it's an easy commute to Metropolis, and all of our buildings here are rigged for kryptonians."

"Not for Mitchell Kent."

I'm about to say 'What?', when I work it out. "Secret identity, right. He won't fly over and he won't use the zeta tubes. Clark Kent doesn't know Diana of Themyscira, so he can't justify staying over." I can't help but chuckle. "Princess Diana has two sons who look just like him and share his surname. Do you think anyone in the Daily Planet has joked about that?"

"Not unless they want Ms. Lane's displeasure. Jimmy once stared at a picture of them for seven seconds before whispering 'no way', if that's of any-"

"Hehaa!"

"-interest. Of course, based on their apparent age, he would have had to be a High School student himself at the time he sired them."

"It's still funny. Okay, New York. Marketing analysis. That's pretty safe. No sensitive material there."

"Nothing to put a kryptonian through his paces, either. And while I love data analysis, most humans don't."

I shrug. "Doesn't matter. We already know what he can do physically. I can just copy the file across for the acquisition report. I could probably do it from memory, actually."

After one idiot tried hitting Superman with a sap, Mr. Luthor made sure that we understood exactly what the alien could do to us so that no one risked giving him just cause again. I've seen some shit, but the 'this is your skull at escape velocity' lecture… That was some shit.

"So you want to find out what he can do mentally?"

I nod. "We don't have a good psychological profile for him when he's sane. If we assign him to Miss Teschmacher, she can handle all that during a normal work day."

"Her clearance could be an issue."

"Civilization is collapsing. She's too busy with normal stuff for that to come up."

"You think."

"You can check her calender, but unless you know something I'll just call her now."

"As you will." The hologram smiles, though who knows what the AI's really thinking? "I'll look forward to your analysis."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th November 1999
08:03 GMT

"…why you need us at all."

Roboneil is making a show of looking over the armoury, but he's fairly clearly watching me out of the corner of his eyes. Teal'c on the other hand is just checking the weapons.

"Need?" I shake my head. "I don't. It would be helpful to have you, and I believe that we could accomplish useful things together, but ultimately you don't need me and I don't need you."

"O… Kay…" He nods his head to the side. "Was… Kinda expecting you to put a little more effort into selling this to me…"

"Alright." I shrug. "This planet has no army. It has a tiny poorly trained militia force. The stargate is defended, but unless I get involved myself there's basically nothing here that can contest a landing or orbital bombardment."

"Because you can stop a fleet on your own."

"Yes."

"Because…" He nods slowly, making a circling gesture with both hands. "You're a god."

"No, because I've got tonnes of super-advanced alien technology on my person." He gives me his full attention. "What, did you think Altair was the only planet I went to?"

"Oh. Okay. That…" He nods to himself. "Makes a little more sense."

"To be clear, I'm not hung up on the god thing. You don't have to refer to me as a god, or treat me as a god. You don't have to worship me, sacrifice to me, or grovel at my feet. But if you take the job then I will be your head of state, and that does involve treating me with a degree of deference. I am aware that you tend to be irreverent, and that's fine in private, but I am running a nation here and my subordinates openly disrespecting me can have severe consequences for everyone."

Teal'c frowns at me. "You are most unusual."

I smile. "Thank you."

He tilts his head to the side slightly. "I am surprised that you are willing to offer me a place."

I shrug. "You are not the original Teal'c. You are not even a Jaffa. You owe the goa'uld nothing, and you did not betray your subordinates."

He raises an eyebrow. "My fellow Jaffa were loyal to Apophis."

"How do you know that they did not harbour the same doubts that Teal'c and Bra'tac do? Did he ask?"

"I-."

"He."

A shallow nod. "He did not."

"He didn't ask and he didn't use his Zat'nik'tel. I appreciate that his defection was a spur of the moment thing, but they were his subordinates and they deserved better from him. If you decide to enter my service and later feel that you cannot in good conscience continue to work for me, you can resign and return to Altair. Or Chulak, as far as I'm concerned. If you have concerns about my behaviour, you are free to respectfully raise them in private -that applies to you as well, Roboneil- but I will expect you to accept my decision afterwards."

Roboneil raises his eyebrows. "'Roboneil'?"

"Are you going to keep calling us 'goold'?"

He considers that for a moment, then nods. "Fair point. Just need to come up with something for 'Mammon'..."

My communication device chimes.

"Excuse me." I turn away from them and head out of the armoury. "Yes?"

"Lord Mammon, Lady Heset has arrived to speak with you."

"She's at the stargate now?"

"No, Lord. She used a ring transporter. She's in the palace."

There's a ship in orbit-. There's a ship in orbit over my capital. I don't think that she's threatening me, but that's bloody rude for a goa'uld. By any normal standard of diplomacy she should have called ahead. Even Lord Bastet would have done that unless I'd really pissed her off, if only to ensure that we had quarters ready for her.

"I will return at once." I close the communication channel and duck back into the armoury. "I'm sorry, but something's come up that needs my personal attention. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves while I'm away."

Roboneil raises his eyebrows. "Because… We needed your permission to do that?"

I shrug. "You might have assumed that I was monitoring everything that happened inside a secure area, and that might have impeded the freedom of your discussion. I'm telling you that you don't need to worry about that. Excuse me."

Where is she-? Right. Transition.

I appear miles away from the armoury, in what was the great receiving room. I haven't done much in the way of renovation to it because I didn't think it would see any use. And there's Heset, her guards and her First Prime who's raising his Ma'Tok-.

I transfer it into my right hand and jab the butt right into his pouch. Then I drop it onto the floor for him to pick up before fanning out my hands and smiling at Heset.

"Lady Heset. I wasn't expecting you, otherwise I would have been here to greet you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She slowly draws a deep breath, eyes flickering to her First Prime who has one hand on his Zat'nik'tel and shaking her head. "Lord Mammon. System Lord Bastet has commanded me to speak with you in private on a matter of great urgency. Where may we speak?"

I raise my left hand, making orange lights circle around us before transitioning us to my private reception room.

"Here." She takes a moment to adjust to her new location, then reaches her right hand to her chest... Maybe she's checking that all of her materialised? "This is a violation of protocol, Lady Heset. System Lord Bastet has not lost my gate coordinates. What do you want?"

"Lady Bastet has… Your reward. She suggested that you might find it helpful if you had another goa'uld to aid you."

"Hardly. Few goa'uld would have the perspective, even if they could technically aid me. I don't want to have to deal with a would-be usurper's psychosis."

Oh, there's her perfume again. I really don't see the appeal.

"There are ways around that. Lady Bastet has acquired the service of a goa'uld queen to provide her Jaffa with Prim'ta. If you were to sire a brood, that would ensure that they shared your mindset."

"Assuming that the queen cooperated and didn't add other instructions."

Plus I… Well, I could use my scans of goa'uld physiology to add goa'uld host additives to my blood stream, it wouldn't be mine and it wouldn't have my genetically encoded memories in it. I'm fairly sure that the queen would notice that. I haven't even tried decoding goa'uld genetic memory. Though-. If the Altairians can create memory downloads it might be possible to work something out, maybe?

Heset takes a step closer, right hand rubbing her chest again. "I was… Instructed to get a sample… Personally."

The smell of her perfume is a bit-.

Wait. Scan.

…

Oh you cheeky minx. Pull.

A small part of her robe bursts as the aerosol lands in my left hand. I glare at it, then at her.

"What exactly was this supposed to do to me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th November 1999
08:07 GMT

Analyse.

A chemical analysis appears in my mind immediately. It doesn't mean all that much to me -other than to note the tiny similarities and vast difference to every perfume I've scanned before- but using Am-heh's knowledge reveals that several of these chemicals are quite psychoactive in goa'uld. He doesn't recognise the combination but it was clearly supposed to do something.

Anything odd in Heset's body chemistry?

Ah.

"It is just.. a perfume dispenser. Snatching it was most uncalled for."

"Um-hm. So you would have no concerns at all if I eliminated what is clearly a counter-agent from your blood and then sprayed you with it?"

"I was instructed to pleasure you and this is your response?!" She look around, spots the door and marches towards it. "I will report to Lady Bastet-."

"No." She floats off the ground, gagged and struggling. "You won't. I wonder what it is? You've been wearing it on Bubastis so it's almost certainly not a poison. A narcotic, perhaps? It certainly interacts with the goa'uld brain. Not the pleasure centres, though. Something subtle?" I walk around until I'm in front of her once more. "I wondered why a goa'uld with no record of working within Lord Bastet's domain was granted control of a planet. Is that it, then?"

I look into her eyes, and… Ah yes, there it is.

"I wonder how long it lasts? Since System Lord Bastet currently likes you, it would be awkward for me to detain you. I could expose you to your own chemical, but you may be able to work through it since you have experience with it." Scan. "I don't know, and I don't have the time to locate a chemist. How intact is your host, mentally speaking? I should be able to remove you and ask them, if you choose not to volunteer the information."

That's… Heset's connection points are a little different to what I'm… Familiar with.

Genetic scan and comparison.

Looking into her eyes, the fear has somewhat abated. Does she have good relations with her host, or does she have a plan for talking herself out of this?

Alright. "Shout for help and I remove your vocal cords."

I dismiss the construct, and she lands lightly on the floor as the results of the genetic analysis come in. That… Doesn't prove anything, but it is highly suggestive and would explain a great many things.

"I am an expert chemist. Originally, I sought a way to reduce the paranoia-inducing effect of sarcophagus-use. Instead, I developed a chemical that would make other gods… Unusually well-disposed towards me. Since you are now… Aware of it, I can provide you with a supply in exchange for your silence on the matter."

"You have been a competent administrator. In these turbulent times unnecessary changes in leadership should probably be avoided. If I could use your chemical to win over a few minor gods who would rather duck out of the current war, I might be able to work things to System Lord Bastet's advantage." She looks mildly reassured. "Why did you try to use this chemical on me? I only rule one poorly developed world. I could grant you no favours."

"You are Lady Bastet's current favourite. You are able to serve her in ways that none of her other Underlords are. When you passed up the opportunity to receive a reward for your work on Jaffa armaments, I started to be… Concerned, about my lack of leverage."

"Why?"

"Why? Because every favour she seeks to bestow upon you is one that she does not bestow upon me."

"But I… Passed on the favour. Even when I served Ra my ambitions were sated by being his functionary. I am happy with this world, and with my relationship with System Lord Bastet. I make myself useful because I want to ensure that her version of goa'uld civilisation becomes the dominant one, not because I want something else from her."

She stares at me for a moment, then shakes her head. "You truly..? You befriend her other Underlords without causing friction, you obey her laws and praise their wisdom, your greatest concern is for a world where you have taken her code of law and expended upon it, you deal with 'inconveniences' for her without leaving a trace of your presence and ask for nothing in return. Bastet knows that you love her."

I nod. "I am aware that I am privileged to have her as my sovereign lord."

She… Stares at me.

"And I am glad that she believes the truth of my-."

"Are you joking!"

…

"No?"

"That you love her romantically. Though if you do not it will make my life easier."

I shake my head. "No, I don't love her romantically. That would be ridiculous."

Her eyebrows raise slightly. "You don't feel a brief moment of joy each time you meet her."

"Well, yes, I do, but she's a very easy person to get on with."

"You do not desire her carnally."

I shrug. "She.. does not pick ugly hosts."

"Any of whom you could have taken as a concubine after she left them. And yet you did not."

"Of course not, they're not heeeeeer."

Ah. I shouldn't have said that. I mean that they'd be ignorant human girls who wouldn't be able to be my partner, but from the way Heset is looking at me she obviously took it differently.

"And now that you have my perfume, you are not even considering using it on her, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

She rolls her eyes. "Such romantic nonsense."

"If you've quite finished mocking my romantic-."

"She might well marry you." Huh? "Oh, don't look so surprised. I would be astonished if you had not realised that she is a queen. I had hoped to sire her children myself, but without my… Advantage, that will not occur. So, I will go back to managing my world, you will receive more generous trade terms and a supply of my perfume and I will not get in your way. Do we have an understanding?"

I snort. "I don't trust you just because your revised story is a little more believable. You are one of Egeria's daughters-."

"Along with millions of others. I didn't think that you were married to Ra as well!"

"And the way you've attached yourself to your host is… Non-standard. I had wondered how a group as inept as the Tok'Ra had concealed themselves for so long." I make a show of examining the perfume dispenser. "Now, I know. You smell trustworthy."

She pulls back slightly, looking decidedly less confident. "That is a recent development."

"I weep for our species. Let me talk to your host. I have to believe that they're the brains of your relationship."

Her eyes glow for a moment and then fade, then her facial expression changes. Scan? Oh, that's what it looks like. I'll remember that.

"Is there a bargain to be struck, or will you send me to your dungeon?"

"I don't actually have a dungeon. I don't really mind the Tok'Ra undermining any other System Lord. But I do mind you undermining System Lord Bastet, particularly when that risks my experiment."

"You are genuine, then."

"Yes I'm genuine. Your people are fools for not doing this centuries ago. Any effort you make against Bastet would worsen the lives of every human in her domain." Scan in depth. "So while I don't mind you keeping an eye on us I will not tolerate sabotage. That's in addition to what your goa'uld offered."

"She is not a goa'uld. But… I have no orders to act against you or Bastet."

I'm not an expert on brain patterns, but that… Looks true.

"Then I will make you aware now. I have ways to alter the minds of other people. If I have reason to doubt you, I will make you both my willing slaves before pursuing all of your Tok'Ra contacts. Do you both understand me?"

She nods.

"Good. Now get off my planet."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
09:12 EST

"…greenhouses, where the latest of LexCorp's genetically engineered crop strains are cultivated before being transferred to the fields."

I nod slowly as I follow Miss Teschmacher through the greenhouse. That's not how Mister Kent does it, but I guess if something goes wrong with a novel plant then they want to have a record of everything that happened to it so they can work out what they did wrong.

"Any questions so far?"

"Uh. Yeah-. Yes." She's watching me-. "Uh, are those fields open air?"

"Of course. We need to test these plants in conditions which match those they'll actually be farmed in… As near as possible. For cultivars designed for more extreme climates we do smaller batches in artificial environments and then arrange to perform larger tests closer to where they're intended to be grown."

"Don't you have a problem with… Cross-pollination? I mean, if bees take pollen from a modified plant and pollinate the unmodified type…"

I probably shouldn't be asking that. But she just smiles.

"Mitchell, I know perfectly well that your mother is Wonder Woman and that… The Justice League doesn't have a great relationship with LexCorp." She looks at me for a moment, so I nod. "But you should know two things about us. Firstly, we're here to make money. We make most of our money in the high technology sector; we depend on a functioning global economy, with billions of market participants. The current broken state of human society hurts us a lot more than it hurts the Justice League. I must have worn this dress at least twice before today."

Her smile broadens for a moment, so I think that was supposed to be a joke. But I don't get it. I've worn this shirt dozens of times at least, and Conner's got a wardrobe that's basically just identical copies of the same stuff. If it wasn't for M'gann, that would be his whole wardrobe.

"Secondly, there is no profit in the end of the world. So now is a really bad time for taking dangerous risks. Every one of these strains makes use of genetic use restriction technology. They'll still produce pollen, and they need to be fertilised by an insect-. We actually have our own bee hives, just over…"

She raises her right forefinger as she tries to remember.

"Over that way." She points in the direction of the buzzing noise I can hear and the sweet scent I can smell. "But they can't pass on the modified characteristics for more than one generation. One of the things we're working on here is an improved version of that technology that would prevent any kind of cross-pollination."

"Is there a market for that?"

"Just about every agribusiness in the world is interested in improved terminator technology."

"Yeah, but… With farmers. Don't they.. usually keep some of their own seeds to plant the next year?"

"That depends on which part of the world you're talking about. That's certainly common in less economically developed countries, but in more economically developed countries farmers usually buy seeds annually for annual plants. And this way, whenever we come up with a new variety it just slots into the purchase schedule."

"But… Haven't we had massive disruptions in shipping for the last few years?"

Miss Teschmacher nods. "Yes, and that's been a major problem, as I said. Without the ability to ship seeds to farmers, the entire LexFarms subdivision of LexCorp has been going into the red."

"No, I mean, for farmers. If they can't get seeds, then they can't farm."

"No, no. While I stand behind the supremacy of LexCorp products, there are alternate suppliers on every continent. While it reduces end user choice, the system still works."

"Uh…"

"Well, put it this way. How many normal farmers have access to a cutting edge genetics research laboratory?"

"None?"

"None. So there's no way for them to take advantage of the techniques we use to improve their yields, drought resistance, disease and pesticide resistance, or heat and colds resistance. They could try using traditional techniques to breed new varieties, but that takes a long time. The first known orange carrots existed in the sixth century, but it wasn't until the eighteenth century that the Dutch produced a variety that was always orange. Here, we can engineer carrots that are just about any color, and are far hardier and more nutritious than normal varieties as well."

"What's..? Wrong with purple carrots?"

"Ah, they taste slightly bitter to the modern pallet. There's nothing.. wrong with them exactly -not like some of the older varieties of potatoes- it's just that they could be better."

I nod. "So is this where you work?"

"No, but it's where you'll be spending about half your time. I hope you don't mind farm work."

"No, grandma's put me to work on the farms on Themyscira. This is a… It's a bit more sophisticated. But I'm sure I can cope with it."

"That's the spirit! The other half of the time you'll be with me in my office in Market Analysis. It probably won't be very interesting, lot's of fetching and carrying, but I'll try and make sure that you know why everything's happening."

Huh? "Is there a lot of… Market to analyse right now? I thought everything was-. I mean, transport, and-."

She nods. "It's true, we're not doing much typical market analysis right now, but if anything what we're doing is even more essential than usual. Rather than looking at what could give us an edge over our competition, we're looking at what it is that people really need. For example, quite a lot of the U.S. has problems with water shortages, which is made worse by the fact that we can't really import as much food as we used to and even if we could, South America is exporting much less than it was a few years ago. What do you think that means for LexFoods, and LexCorp in general?"

"Ah. Farm land is a lot more valuable. And so are farmers, because people don't learn how to farm in schools."

She nods. "It's a shrinking profession."

"And KordTech's weather control system… Ah, it's not really working so well right now."

"It's working, but it's not expanding. On their original outline, supplying water to drought-stricken areas in the U.S. was something they'd have started this year. But with Atlantis not able to supply them they're down to a fraction of the staff they need to sustain normal operations."

"So agricultural land's a lot more valuable than it was."

"People always need land, but the U.S. needs skilled farmers and water for irrigation. And not just drilling aquifers; if they aren't replenished, that just buys the area a few years. So that means piping it in, desalination plants or magic. We even looked at the viability of bringing in a ice comet!"

"Uh…"

"Oh, don't worry. That one was more of a theoretical exercise. Because unless you can bring in a new comet every few years you end up back where you started."

That's a relief. And not just because I'd be worried if LexCorp drops a comet somewhere, but because the Justice League could easily do that, and if it could have actually helped…

"So, ah, what exactly would I be doing around here?"

"Well, a lot of the monitoring is done by computer, but we still need a human to run their eyes over everything. Why don't I show you the soil analysis robots?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
09:23 EST

Mr. Flaherty smiles. "Well, that's easy Mitchell! If we had a dedicated rail track for them, it would stop the whole process if anything went wrong with it. The computer could route around it, but it would cause a whole section of the greenhouses and fields to become unavailable! But with these-"

He pats the chassis of the robot he was working on. It looks a bit like the industrial floor cleaning machines I've seen in the Happy Harbour grocery store near closing time. It has larger wheels and the rotary mops are replaced by the mechanical sampler arms, but I suppose it's doing a similar job.

"-as standard, we can just send in another robot to pick up the load while we fix the one that's gone wrong. They can even transfer soil samples between them without risking external contamination." His face goes a little downcast. "If that ever happened, I'd need a real good excuse why I didn't just fix the thing."

Miss Teschmacher raises her eyebrows. "Has that function ever been used?"

"Ah, only in field trials. We wanted to make sure that it actually worked in the fields, when it was raining and the ground was churned up. Took a while for the computer to get the hang of navigating like that, but it worked fine."

I nod. "Do they drive themselves, or does the main computer handle it?"

"Mostly, they drive themselves, but the main computer handles task assignment and monitors them to make sure they're not doing anything stupid. In theory they can handle regular tasks without the main computer, but, y'know, belts and suspenders."

I smile. "But they can't fix themselves, right?"

"No, no, they can. I'm just cheaper than the engineer robot." He chuckles. "But seriously, humans are a lot more adaptable than any robot-." He glances aside for a moment. "Any robot that isn't legally a person, anyway."

"Oh yeah, I heard about LexCorp having an AI. Have you met it?"

"Ah…" He looks a little awkward. "Technically? I know it-. He…" He does a small shrug. "He tends to use Mister Luthor's face when he has to talk to someone, but I don't know if he actually thinks of himself as male-. Anyway, I check that our data is getting submitted properly, and I know it all goes to him, but I don't think he's ever said anything to me directly."

I frown. "You don't think?"

"Well, he's an AI, so it's pretty easy for him to put on a voice or change his e-mail address. But I don't know if he's got that sort of sense of humour. Or any sense of humour at all."

Miss Teschmacher rolls her eyes. "He does. Don't ask me how I know."

He raises his hands. "You're the boss. So, anything else you wanna know?"

I point to the robot that he's working on. "What's wrong with this one?"

"Oh, nothing much, really. The air filters need replacing; that's the most common problem they have. Dust, pollen…" He shrugs. "Procedure is to also do a manual inspection on the rest of it at the same time, but that almost never turns up anything. Here, I'll show you."

He presses a few buttons on his laptop, and the side of the robot opens up. I crouch down to get a better look. Inside… It's pretty rugged. The samples…

"It doesn't do the tests itself?"

"No. Mass spectrometers that size aren't rugged enough to use on a farm."

Huh. I guess it makes sense. There's a carousel where the sample containers get brought to the sampling mechanism, and then they get loaded into a rack-.

"And I guess the robot can insert this bit right into the testing machine?"

"That's right. Then an empty one gets loaded back in, and then it's back to work."

"And…" I look down. "This bit is for the fertiliser?"

"Ah, mostly. We can actually set it to spray just about any solution we need. We do test a variety of different soil conditions here. Remember, this isn't a commercial farm. We're not trying to make a profit selling our produce. We sometimes deliberately damage or poison our plants to check exactly what their performance thresholds are."

"But… If you're just trying to maximise yields, you-. You'd be testing them with whatever fertilizer the farmer would be using, right?"

"Yeah, a lot of the time. But there's actually a big problem in some places with fertilizer run-off getting into rivers and lakes. See, it basically supercharges the algae, which sounds okay, until they die and start rotting. That supercharges the bacteria, which breed like crazy and use up all the oxygen in the lake. And that kills everything that needs oxygen, which is just about everything. A few of the strains we're growing now are designed specifically to flourish without fertilizer."

I frown. I guess a variety that produced less… Fruit or seeds would need less fertilizer and wouldn't risk killing itself by producing more than the soil could support. That's basically what winnowing is. But that's not exactly flourishing.

I turn to look up at him. "How does that work?"

"Ah, heh." He chuckles awkwardly. "Get a full time job at LexCorp, stick at it for five to eight years, and then sign a bunch of non-disclosure agreements, and you can find out!"

Huh. That's… Fair, I guess. I'm basically just here to fetch and carry things. They're not going to let an intern in on company secrets. I could just get a closer look at the plants when I do… Whatever manual stuff that needs to be done with them, but… That's not why I'm here.

So I just stand up and shrug. "Well, maybe. What other robots do you work on?"

"Just the planting and harvesting robots. They're like bigger, more adaptable combine harvesters. They can actually.. work as combine harvesters, but like I said, we don't usually grow for volume here."

I frown. I don't know much about the Kent farm, but I'm pretty sure they hire seasonal laborers rather than using farming robots.

"Isn't something like that really expensive? I mean, compared to just hiring people."

He shrugs. "They don't let me work on people."

Miss Teschmacher does a… P.R. smile. "While LexCorp does own farms which make extensive use of human resources, in this facility it's important to accurately record everything in a way that would be impractical for a human agricultural laborer."

I nod. "And.. I.. guess that if someone needs to work for LexCorp for years to even find out what you're working on, farm hands would be a security risk, huh?"

Neither of them say anything, though Mr. Flaherty awkwardly looks at Miss Teschmacher for a moment.

I shake my head, not wanting to get him in trouble. "It makes sense. We mostly have other Amazons working at the embassy, or other people Mom's known for a long time. Sometimes, we get… People who probably shouldn't work there applying for positions."

Miss Teschmacher nods. Mom says that she always phrases it like that because people assume it's some sort of sex thing. Actually, the real problem comes from spy agencies and people working for criminals. If Mom was body-shy she wouldn't have spent decades fighting crime in a metal swimsuit.

I don't really… I don't have a costume, but if I actually started being a full time superhero I'd probably copy Conner's old style rather than wear something skin-tight. I mean, a solar suit would do more for me than him, but…

It has some really bad memories for me.

"Okay, so where are we going next?"

Miss Teschmacher checks her planner for a moment. "How.. about.. we check out the fields, and you can see the planting robots in action, then I can show you what you'll be doing for the rest of the day?"

I smile at her. "Sounds good. Ah, how smart are they?"

"About as smart as the sampler robots. We're not running an AI slave plantation."

"No, I didn't mean-."

"AIs that intelligent are far too expensive." And she smiles like it's a joke, but she did just kind of imply that they would if they were cheaper. They did with the genomorphs, even if they tried blaming Jim Harper. "This way."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
09:29 EST

I didn't really appreciate how big this place is.

The entrance is right next to the workshop and the greenhouses, and obviously I didn't fly here. And I know the idea that Lex Luthor ordered everything in LexCorp to be lead lined is kind of a joke, but x-ray vision gets kinda blurry if you try staring through too many walls. And they've got trees along the road…

But from here I can see all of the annual crops, and the smaller flowering plants, and it's all laid out in giant rectangular fields, with strong steel fences dividing them up.

The fields are really big, actually.

"How did you get those whole area this flat?"

"Hm?" Miss Teschmacher tears her own eyes away from the view. I… It might be a bit rude to think this, but I don't think that human eyes could really let her take this in like mine can. "Oh, huge amounts of low and semi-skilled labor with digging equipment. It's not exactly the Grand Canal, but it was fairly impressive to watch it all come together."

Each of the fields are fenced off from each other, with computer controlled gates between them. There are gravel and dirt roads, and… Drainage trenches at regular intervals. The robots are a bit like weird-shaped combine harvesters, and-.

I watch as one turns off a road and then… Lower itself, retracting its road wheels and lowering the broader and more rugged off-road wheels before manoeuvring onto the planting area.

"The plan required that we have precise control of the drainage and microbial content of the soil. The first thing that was produced here was the topsoil that now covers the farm."

"Do you use magic?"

She looks a little surprised. "Magic?"

"Yeah. Y'know. Gotham got buried in vines two years ago, and then there's what the Accala have done in Brazil… It looks like a growth industry. And.. I heard about LexCorp making that warded paper. But I… Guess we shouldn't talk about that."

"Perhaps that would be best." She gestures to a nearby SUV. "Shall we?"

She takes the driver's seat, and I climb into the passenger seat next to her. Huh, it's fully electric. I guess when the whole farm is run by robots you might as well take advantage of the fact that you have to run power cables everywhere anyway.

"But it's still a big deal. I just… Thought that even if most people can't be P-. Pamela Isley or Swamp Thing… It's something people could do?"

She presses the accelerator, and pulls the SUV out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"I see what you mean. But there are two problems. Firstly, while LexCorp has… Ah, tried to make connections with the magical community, there simply aren't that many magicians in America. Not ones with abilities that can be used on any sort of scale. As far as we can tell, magicians like Giovanni Zatara are actually very unusual, and are just born with far more raw power than most people. And then, when it comes to growing plants better, most of the magicians who could do something we might have been able to work with didn't want to work with us."

"Why not?"

"Well, they were… Mostly… Ah… How do I put this? Well, they liked the simple life."

"Simple? Like, living in a cabin in the woods and living on what they grow for themselves?"

"That's…" She looks a little awkward. "More or less it. People who reject modernity don't have much time for agri-business. So between them and the rarity of powerful and knowledgeable wizards, it hasn't really been something that we've been able to try out. I think that.. some part of the company was trying to reach out to Atlantis, but between KordTech and the Orange Lantern Corps, most of their more adventurous magicians were already fully employed."

We stop at a gate, and she leans out of her seat and holds up her badge to a scanner. A moment passes and then there's a happy-sounding beep and the gate starts to open.

"How about just buying a magic book?"

"We…" She nods. "We did do that. The problem was that Atlanteans live under water, and the spells needed to grow things in the air are very different. Seaweed just isn't a mass appeal product on land, and I don't think that's going to change."

She drives us through the gate, and it closes behind us. This field… Looks like potatoes. Two planting robots are still planting the far side of the field.

"So what's happening in this field?"

"Ah, with these potatoes we're trying to increase their nutrient count while trying to make them grow a more regular size. They're also a little hardier and more disease resistant than most current potato brands, but those are modifications that we've already researched."

"Is the size of potatoes really a problem?"

"I wouldn't say that it's a problem, but there's an optimal size where the plant efficiently turns nutrients into potato without creating a potato that's awkward to dig out or use in factory processes. If we can make every potato the same size you'd be amazed at the savings we can make on large volumes."

"I guess I'm used to smaller scale farming." I shrug. "Amazons have only been farming potatoes for about a year."

"Oh? I assumed they either weren't interested in outside produce or they'd have started growing them decades ago."

"Ah… Orange Lantern… He brought a shipping container of outside food to Themyscira a few years ago. That got them interested in a few things."

And it did, but the reason they started farming potatoes was because Cassie started nagging them about making fries. And I don't think that Lex Luthor knows about Cassie yet.

I look over to where one of the robots has finished a row. It pulls onto the road, turns in a circle and then drives back onto the growing bed, giving me a better look at its digging tools. It has a kind of cylinder cutting tool, which it punches into the ground and then uses to dig out a cylinder of earth, watched by a whole bunch of cameras so that the robot can see exactly what the soil is doing. The seed potatoes are in a little hopper just to the side, and a separate arm picks it up and plants it once the robot decides that the hole is the right depth. Then the cylinder shakes and deposits the earth back in broken lumps. And then the robot drives forward-.

Huh. It's working on several plantings at once. Two rows of four, then it drives forwards for the next set.

"Do you think they'd be interested in anything we could provide?"

"Ah… They might be? But I don't think they'd want plants that don't produce their own seeds. Or… If that's what you sold them, they've got a few priestesses of Demeter, so…"

She raises her eyebrows. "They could make them fertile?"

"I don't know. Probably. Or Demeter could."

We turn a corner, and start driving parallel to the path being taken by the closest robot.

"Do the robots use the same tools for everything, or do they have different modules they can swap in and out?"

"Different modules, and the machine that swaps them in and out is entirely automated. It can even do basic maintenance, though Mister Flaherty handles anything complicated."

The robot finishes its planting action and then stops, retracting its tools inside its chassis. Then it deploys its road wheels… While keeping its dirt wheels down?

Did I get the wrong-?

It turns on the spot, churning up the earth around it, and then drives towards the road we're on.

"Okay. Ah. Is it supposed to be doing-"

The SUV's engine dies and the robot accelerates hard.

"-that?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
09:35 EST

Miss Teschmacher frowns at the robot. "No, and neither-"

The robot keeps accelerating, and large saw blades deploy from-

"-is that. Emergency override!"

-hatches on its side.

Oh, right. She's not a superhero or supervillain. She's just a business-

I turn in my seat, grab hold of her, jump out of the SUV with her in my arms and run get out of the robot's-

The robot slams into the SUV, bowling it over onto its side and then onto its roof before the saws bite into the lightweight chassis. Then it slides, the saws alternating between gripping and cutting until they hit the main battery-

BANG!

-which explodes!

-way, and then keep going because that wasn't an electromagnetic pulse so while I don't think LexCorp hardens its agricultural robots it wouldn't have damaged it anyway.

-woman. I look around-. Yeah, the other robot in this field has switched to all-wheel drive and is heading towards us while the one closest to us is trying to pry its saws free.

I could easily get away. They can't fly, and they don't have any anti-air weapons. I mean, I'd get away, but if they had lasers or something they could hurt Miss Teschmacher. And the gates couldn't stop me just smashing through them or jumping over them. I could probably melt these robots with heat vision in a couple of seconds.

But I'm pretending to be human.

"What the hell!"

Miss Teschmacher's arms are wrapped around my neck hard enough that if I was human it would probably hurt. But she's not trying to fight me off or anything, so I guess she's got decent survival instincts.

"Ah, Emergency override! Shut down!"

"The shutdown command is 'shut down'?"

"We don't want to make it hard to remember! This shouldn't-. Enginehead, take manual control!"

"Who?"

Okay, pretending to be human. The ground looks dry, but if they've been rotavating it so it'll probably be fairly loose. The robots weigh more than me, but using all their wheels, the robots have their weight spread more. I should stay on the roads as much as possible.

"Engine-. He's LexCorp's A.I. system. He should be-. Their microphones are off."

"They have microphones?"

CLANGclankclank!

The first robot shakes the SUV off its saws and awkwardly swings around. Second robot coming up on my right as I head back the way we came. Slow down, stop-

"What are you-? Keep going!"

-and wait for it to accelerate more because it's calculating speed and acceleration and it won't commit if it thinks I've got time to dodge.

"I did a training course."

"On getting run over?!"

The second robot deploys its saws. They give it better reach in case I dodge the main chassis. But given how fast it's moving and the structure of the soil-.

I turn and sprint for the gate, careful to keep it to 'fast human' speed. I mean, most people don't know exactly where the line is between what's possible for a really fit human and what isn't. Bridal carrying an adult woman while running away from truck-sized robots? I should be breathing hard by now. And I can't fake that, because kryptonians can hyperventilate. But she's almost certainly not going to notice.

"No. Escaping Mom's enemies."

Behind us, the robot-. Their wheels have independent drive? I didn't realise-. It slews around a lot quicker than I thought it would, but it still loses speed and slides sideways as it turns too quickly. And better yet, the first robot loses line of sight… Darn it. It doesn't stop coming, but it does slow down and turn… It turns to cut us off if we can't get through the closest gate and I have to run for the next closest one.

"Ah, okay, sorry. Are you alright..? Carrying me?"

"You're not that heavy. Is there anything else that can shut them down?"

"Ah-h… There's an override in the main facility…"

"Is there one on the robot?"

"No, because if something went wrong approaching it would be dangerous!"

I glance back as the second robot gets fully onto the road and pours on the speed.

"Yeah, I think you're right!"

"Their cameras should still work!"

The robot right behind me accelerates to about thirty miles an hour, faster than a human can run without super powers. Looks like that's as fast as it can go, but it's still gaining on us.

"Can it lip read?"

"No, but it can read text!"

"I mean, great, but how does that help?"

She goes quiet as I reach the gate and she slams the emergency release button. The robot heading for us isn't slowing down. A full-on impact… The gate isn't that tough, but the robot isn't armoured. I think the gate would go down, but the robot would still get damaged.

The gate doesn't open, and it doesn't open as she rattles it.

"It's not opening!"

"I noticed. You got any idea? Because the best I've got is we let the robot ram the gate and then rush through before it recovers."

She thinks for a moment as the robot barrels towards us.

"You got a notebook?"

"No, you said no recording devices. Wait, would that work?"

"If the camera weren't working then it wouldn't go anywhere. It's the same interpretation program for written words and physical objects. Without it, they.. just don't work." … "Can you boost me over the gate?"

I look up… The gate's pretty tall and it's got those curved over spikes to stop people climbing up. "I don't think so. And I definitely can't stop the robot ramming the gate, knocking you off and killing you."

"Fuuuck!" She takes a breath. "So, what, dodge again?"

"It's the best idea I've got."

I guess I could… Come out and swear her to secrecy, but while I want to help my father, I'm not dumb enough to actually trust him.

"Okay, put me down. I'm wearing flats, I can dodge-."

"I get trained by Amazons." Left or right? Camera distribution looks even, no obvious damage. Other robot moving to my right to block the next gate which means left is better. "I can dodge better. Are they networked?"

"They-." She sees how close it's getting. "They aren't designed to communicate with each other, just the central hub!"

Okay, just gotta judge this right… Closer…

"Mitchell!"

Now!

Whir!

CLANGCRUNCH!

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
09:38 EST

Gate's down, robot's… Impaled, and the other robot is headed this way. I run back towards the… Burst gate, and-.

"Did it get you? Are you hurt?"

It might have.

"If it did, I can't feel it yet."

Shirt feels like it might be a bit loose, so the blade might have clipped me. I've got a couple of fake blood capsules in case I need to fake an injury, so once I get a moment I can play it off as a flesh wound.

"It hit you with a circular saw! Those things aren't sterile!"

Okay, the robot is weakly trying to free itself. There are gaps between the gate and the fence, but the saw arms are still mobile and easily within range. The robot could be faking… But I don't think so. I dash closer to the rear left corner of the robot's chassis; not right behind in case it can accelerate backwards, but close enough that I can reach the inspection ladder.

Miss Teschmacher pulls herself closer to me. "What are you doing?"

"The hole's not big enough. But if we climb over the robot-."

"Okayokay, that makes sense."

She lets go of my shoulders and grabs the rungs in a death grip, and I take hold of her hips and shove her upwards. It takes her a moment to unclasp her hands, but then she gets her feet on the rungs and nervously climbs up to the top of the robot.

For a moment I think about using heat vision on the saws or something, make it look like they overheated. But this is a LexCorp robot; if anyone's going to be able to tell the difference between an overload and heat vision damage, it's them.

"Okay, ah…" She's at the top, so I haul myself up after her. "I don't think I can jump that."

I reach the top myself and then take a moment to look at where the second robot-. Pretty close. And on the other side-.

I think the robot is trying to raise it's arms, but they're designed to cut things on the ground, not to take a swing at technicians standing on its back. It can't reach. And at the front, the gate is bowed around the hardest parts of the robot's interior while all the soft parts got embedded. If we go to the front of the robot and jump, we can sort of slide along the bent upper part of the gate and then jump down. Can't tell exactly how far it will sag, but it shouldn't help the robot get free.

"What's the problem? You can easily-."

"It's going to collapse!"

The other robot-. Out of time! I run forwards, pick her up and put her over my right shoulder-

"Hey!"

-take two steps forwards and jump-

And the moment I touch the gate it starts to collapse, which might not have been a problem if I wasn't putting two people's weight on it. So for a moment I don't, I fly, and then I fly forwards a little so it should look like I slid off before it collapsed. And then I stop flying and drop down onto the road in the next field.

CLANK!

"Ah!"

Whir!

I dash forward, the saw blade coming down just behind me as the partial collapse of the gate gives the robot a little more freedom to move.

"P-p-p-put me d-down."

I glance back as the fully functional robot makes its final approach. And I keep running with her on my shoulder.

"That's not a good idea. Weren't you there when those supervillains attacked LexCorp Headquarters?"

"Yes, and it was terrifying! I just hoped that Mister Luthor had a plan, but even if he does know what's happening communications are clearly compromised and we're at least twenty minutes away for LexCorp Security."

Her hands are on my arm, and I feel her squeeze my bicep.

"No security on-site?"

"It's a farm! We don't-!"

CHUN-CRUNCH!

I don't look back as the second robot smashes into the rear end of the first one-

BANG!

-but I hear it as the front robot flips over with the gate as a fulcrum and lands on its roof, flattening the wreckage of the gate.

"Oh God."

"How's the back robot look?"

"Like it's going to kill us!"

"Is it moving?"

"Ah… It's backing off. Backing off?"

Huh. "It was pretty stupid to try ramming like that. Low gear would have been better, for high power. It could probably have just shoved the other robot out of the way without taking any damage."

"It's accelerating again!"

Crunch-shhhhhhh.

"It shoved the other robot out the way!"

What does she want me to say about that? Ah… "Thank you for letting me know?"

"There's no need to be sarcastic! I think my response is pretty normal!"

I guess not. "Is it damaged? Has it slowed down?"

"The front's crumpled a little. The wheels look fine. It's getting faster!"

If it's drive system isn't damaged then it's going to catch us before we get back to the research buildings. And-. It could do a lot of damage. Most of those buildings don't look all that tough, and there are other people working here. Maybe..? Maybe I can get her inside, smash it up and say that Superman did it?

"What's the evacuation plan?"

"Get out the front door and let security handle it when they get here! We don't-!"

BOOM!

A noise from behind and the ground shakes-.

"Oh."

"What?"

"It exploded."

I jog to a stop and then turn around. The robot-. It looks like it-.

BOOM!

A second missile slams into it and detonates, knocking it sideways and finishing it off. I follow the contrail back and magnify-.

A LexCorp security helicopter. I guess… They were faster than she thought they'd be?

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th November 1999
21:15 GMT

In theory, having an in with the Tok'Ra could be very useful. If I can convince them that supporting System Lord Bastet is in the best interests of humans generally, she could get access to a very useful spy network as well as the ability to supply them with whatever they need to increase their ability to act against their shared enemies. And while they're occupied with that, we can tech up, start annexing the weakened ones…

Because the only way this 'ends' well for me is if Bastet becomes Supreme System Lord. Or a diarch with Kali, that works fine for me too. Works best for humans, works best for non- and minimally- crazy goa'uld, and works best for the Tok'Ra too because they can focus on human uplift once the more objectionable parts of goa'uld society have been done away with. Or retasking themselves to acting as internal affairs investigators for the joint throne, fighting recidivist goa'uld on their behalf.

I don't think the Tok'Ra would be convinced by that argument due to it actually making sense, but I'll give it a go at some point.

But for now…

For now I've got to make preparations in case Heset wasn't lying to me. Because if there's one thing I can't do, it's produce goa'uld sperm. In fact, having… Had to review goa'uld physiology I'm not sure that 'male' goa'uld have sperm. Certainly, some goa'uld prefer male hosts and some prefer female, but…

I sort of assumed that the goa'uld reproductive system was parasitic as well, and then stopped looking at it because how was it ever going to be relevant to me? Plenty of goa'uld have concubines, a few marry other goa'uld and maintain long term relationships, but… The physical attraction comes from the host body. As for reproducing… System Lord Yu has sired many children on his concubines, and they serve as administrators throughout his region of space. None are reported to be superhuman, though I haven't taken a close look myself.

The child of two hosts would be a harcesis, a human with goa'uld genetic memory. Making those is very illegal, and not something that I have any intention of risking. Because the fact they can exist means that non-queen goa'uld can pass on their genetic memory sexually, though I've got no idea why it requires two goa'uld parents and it's not as if I want to experiment.

But there lies the problem. Goa'uld queens require samples of genetic material from the host population in order to create compatible goa'uld. Presumably, a goa'uld queen can determine whether she's going to create new goa'uld or a new human foetus because Am-Heh seems sure that the usual way for them to get those genetic samples is through sex.

Which… Raises a rather disturbing question on how new species are added to the pool of available hosts. Goa'uld mostly uses unas hosts before discovering humans, and Bastet used to use sekhmets as hosts. Which… Means that adaptation by queen isn't the only way to handle things..?

Don't know.

Unfortunately, Am-Heh doesn't have a lot of information on the exact biological systems involved. Which means that I'm left with the distinct possibility that if Bastet does choose me as the sire of her next batch, she might pick up on the fact that I don't have goa'uld genetic memory. And even if I scanned another gou'ald and put their secretions into my body -an idea I'm not exactly excited about- it wouldn't have Mammon's memories. Or my memories.

Which would blow this whole thing, and somehow I don't think she'd find it funny. Which means that I need to get Mammon's memories at the very least. I might be able to claim that the more recent stuff hadn't bedded in enough for transference yet, or the whole 'under a mountain' thing disrupted it. Goa'uld don't appear to have much interest in studying exactly how their own bodies work, so I doubt that she would simply gainsay me. She might be surprised, but she wouldn't know and she's perfectly capable of altering her spawn's behaviour-.

I'm trying not to think about how many of my children would end up getting eaten. That's something that I'm... Going to want to do something about if they actually end up being mine.

Anyway. I do have samples of Mammon's genetic material. I found his crushed remains -and those of his host- a few weeks into my stay here while I was making the interior of the ship safe for habitation. And with those genetic samples I could grow a new Mammon, basically identical to the old one thanks to goa'uld genetic memory.

Except, then what? I don't want to stick him in my head and give him control of my body. Even if I kept control of the ring. There's no point in assimilating him. Wait, no, there's a small point, because I'd get the knowledge that he had, but I don't really need that. But his secretions… They alone would let me fake being him a little better.

And…

I'm staring at the power ring on my left ring finger.

What… If I can impose my own desires on his biology?

I mean… I've got no idea how goa'uld memory encoding works-.

But the Altairians do. Teal'c 1 went mad because Harlan mixed up the Jaffa and goa'uld parts of his mind. Which means that they… Can implant knowledge from a goa'uld onto a machine. But that doesn't mean that they can do it the other way.

Ring magic it is, then.

I fabricate a fish tank, fill it with water and then clone Mammon. The clone is dead, but all of the desires should be contained within his biological structure.

Hopefully.

Breathe in. Breathe out. See the shape of his desires, the desires inherent in his form.

Dead flesh. No light. Look beyond it. Look through it.

In the orange light I see something grand-.

I gasp, blinking, the vision slipping away.

I saw… Something. And… Huh. Not sure what it was, but I'm… Definitely seeing something now when I look at Mammon 2. That's… Weird. Useful, but…

I've occasionally wondered why the power ring even works here. No Guardians or Controllers, no… Mention of them having existed at any point in the past. Only one personal lantern and no power ring other than the one I'm wearing. It clearly does work, but does it work on the same principles? Is there some sort of underlying emotional… Layer to the universe?

Do I want there to be?

I shake my head. Hardly my choice.

Mammon's desire structures are actually shallower than those of most goa'uld I've met. Somehow. But if I push here and pull here…

Desire dubbing.

Guh.

Okay, that… Looks a bit more like me… I think..? How about..? Specific memories? No, that didn't seem to-.

Okay, those desires came from somewhere, so… Expand upon that desire with actual information.

…

And the only way I could check that it's worked would be by making Mammon alive and asking, which I'm not going to do. Still, the worst that could happen here is that I get regular Mammon memories in my blood, so I guess I'll give it a go.

Activate glands manually. Don't activate his brain. And I need to collect… That stuff? Scan and analyse, and add that to my blood and put Mammon in subspace just in case.

Okay, one potential crisis averted, probably. Now back to the other ninety nine.

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
09:59 EST

"Otis, what the h-?" Miss Teschmacher bites down whatever she was going to say. "What was that?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry-"

"I got chased around by a killer farming robot, I think I-"

"-about the billing."

"-need to-. What?"

"You don't need to worry about the billing. They were previous generation missiles we had in inventory. Not good enough for rich countries and not cheap or simple enough for poor ones. They were already written off, so there's no need for internal billing."

"I wasn't worried about the billing, Otis. I was worried about dying!"

"Sure, you were worried about dying. That's natural. But you didn't die. The robots which tried to kill you got destroyed, and we're loading them up for full decommissioning now."

She sighs. "And I'll have to talk to the police…"

"Ah, why?"

"For insurance. And because someone took a swing at LexCorp and we don't have the resources we used to so we can't be sure we can find them better than the police can. It's not like we're doing anything illegal here."

"Ah…"

"Are we?"

"I mean, I don't think so? I do security, not farming law. Do you wanna talk to Legal?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Okay, what did you mean?"

"Why aren't we telling the police?"

"Because we know who did it. And you know Mister Luthor says that the insurance companies are held together with paper and rainbows these days."

"So we're just not claiming-? We know who did it?"

"Sure. It's not complicated. And yeah, whole classes of assets lost insurance during the Anti-Life thing because there were too many claims to pay out. Most LexCorp stuff isn't financially insured."

"It can't have been the Justice League. He's Wonder Woman's son."

"Of course it wasn't the Justice League. The medic checked you out, right? You didn't get hit on the head? Concussion can be-."

"I didn't get hit on the head."

"Now, you say that, but concussion can interfere with your short term memory, and… I don't want to have to insist, but-."

"Fine, I'll get checked out. So who was it?"

"Normal procedure. For recuiting-."

"Who are-? No. Otis, do not tell me you were trying to do a Wounded Gazelle Gambit?"

"Technically, no. It's really more of a heroic honeypot saviour complex thing. The idea is-."

"I know what the idea is! It's basically the only reason why Janet in reception still has a job!"

"Right. So, we put the potential recruit who's been keeping their powers quiet somewhere with someone, and they reveal those powers to them in order to keep them safe. Psychologically, it reinforces-."

"I just said I know what the idea is."

"But you're acting like you don't, so-."

"That plan calls for using an attractive woman close to the target's age. He lives with Wonder Woman, and an island full of Amazons."

"Heh, yeah. I don't see the problem."

"Ah-. O-kay… Thank you..?

"Most teenaged guys aren't really that fussy about secondary stuff when it comes to short term attraction. A positive response from an attractive woman as more or less the same effect, regardless of relative attractiveness."

"He got cut, Otis."

"No, he came out of the tube like that."

"With the robot's circular saw. He was bleeding. Did we power the robots with kryptonite again? Because from a farming point of view, that's a really problematic independent variable."

"No? There shouldn't be anything here powerful enough to hurt him."

"Something was."

"Uh… We never.. did find out how the Alien stabilised his brain. I suppose they… Might have induced some sort of extra weakness, based on Project K-R's physiology."

"Are you kidding me right now? Those robots aren't cheap, Otis! We didn't check if he even has powers?!"

"… Huh."

"What exactly was the plan if I got cut in half? What was the plan if he got cut in half?"

"I've got a funeral suit."

"That's it?! So the robots attacked us, and if he couldn't fight them off or just decided that I wasn't worth losing his secret identity over, we died?!"

"No, of course not. I was on overwatch, and Enginehead could take control at any point. I just couldn't come close in case he heard the rotor blades."

"At any point?"

"Well, okay, there'd be a slight delay; the system isn't really designed for that sort of control. But-"

"Geee-zus!"

"-I don't think that would have happened. Did you actually see the cut?"

"W-? Ye-. No, not the actual cut, but I saw blood!"

"The Alien has used jam, ketchup and red ink mixed with P.V.A. to fake wounds before. You shouldn't assume he got hurt unless you saw it with your own eyes."

"So you think..? He was always safe, and the only reason it looked like we were in danger is that he doesn't want to use powers in front of me?"

"Yeh."

"Are you sure Lex signed off on this?"

"I was right there when he said it. Normal procedure."

"We can't do the same thing again. He might call on his friends and family to investigate."

"That's a good point. Hm. I'll need to review the tapes and see if he was using his powers just a little. If we can spot that, you could talk to him about that in 'confidence'."

"As long as you don't expect me to actually honeypot him."

"He's three years old, Eve. I don't think-."

"He's three!?"

I give my head a small shake, returning my hearing to focusing on my immediate environment: the sky way above the farm complex, high enough that I can't be seen from the ground. It's a.. shame, but… I guess compared to some things LexCorp's done it's not that bad. I'll just have to keep in mind that next time they try, it's a fake.

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd November 1999
10:23 GMT

Hmn. Never been in here before.

System Lord Bastet is… Not.. plainly dressed, precisely, but she's dressed down by goa'uld standards. Less jewellery, and what she has is concealing pieces of goa'uld technology rather than displaying her wealth. Her private… Study? Lounge? Is richly decorated but… Less… Fiddly, then some other places I've seen. This isn't an audience chamber where treasures are displayed to overawe the visitors.

Bastet herself is sitting in a decidedly unimperious manner, lounging on a fainting couch. High Priestess Tey is sitting in a more upright position in the chair next to her. Tey's job is… More or less internal intelligence and public relations. She tells everyone about all of the wonderful stuff Bastet does for them… Or rather, her subordinate priestesses do, while at the same time she monitors the population for signs of unrest and feeds back to Bastet on potential problems. Or deals with them herself. And 'deals with' isn't a euphemism for 'kills them'-. Not usually. A small act of charity or access to 'divine magic' can go along way to convince the people that their goddess is on their side. Tey looks about… Fifty? And is essentially the highest ranked human in Bastet's domain. Most goa'uld have Jaffa priests, but since being Bastet's host for a while is a requirement for the position Bastet uses humans instead.

Bastet's First Prime -a female Jaffa named Huy- is sitting ramrod straight on a chair on Bastet's other side. She's at least as old as Tey, but thanks to the regenerative properties of her prim'ta she looks young enough to be her daughter. She's wearing armour, but it's light armour and her headdress is off. And… She's not armed. Oh, there are armed Jaffa a shout away outside of the room, but this is unusual.

I bow to Lord Bastet, and wait for-.

"You've made it this far, Lord Mammon. Bowing in private is a waste of time."

I straighten up. "Then I will not do so, System Lord Bastet. How may I serve?"

"You may start by telling me what happened to Lady Heset."

"We.. had.. a.. minor disagreement, which I believe that we have resolved. I didn't think it worth drawing to your attention."

Huy is.. glaring at me. I'm not sure why. I haven't really spoken to her, but Abrax mentioned that she was interested in the weapons we developed.

Baset raises her eyebrows. "No?"

"While I like to think that I can reach a mutually beneficial agreement with most of my fellow Underlords, there is sometimes a little friction. I prefer to avoid… Putting everything before you because it suggests that we're bickering children rather than ancient and knowledgeable beings in our own right. I'm sure that our relationship will improve as we continue to work together."

"As it did with Lord Mahes."

"Just so."

She frowns. "I am curious as to what common cause you will make with a Tok'Ra spy. Perhaps you could explain it to me?"

I'm unable to stop my eyes widening. "You knew about the perfume."

"I did. When did you learn of it?"

"I noticed the odd smell a while ago, I assume when she decided that it was worth trying to influence me. I only realised what it was during her most recent visit to Syrania."

"Do I need to be worried?"

I shake my head. "The Tok'Ra are fools. I believe that I will be able to win her over through rational persuasion."

"'Win over' the Tok'Ra?"

"They believe that goa'uld are a blight upon the universe. They hate us, and so they hate themselves. They commit themselves to overturning our order with no concept of what to replace it with. They are fools, but not idiots. They recognise that they have no real goal state. I believe that by demonstrating human flourishing under your rule, I can convince Lady Heset to remain inactive indefinitely. And it's better to have a spy you know than a spy that you don't."

"It was, then you detected her."

A-h. "I… Apologise if I have made your life harder. I did not know that you knew."

"A System Lord who complains about her Underlords being too intelligent will swiftly find themselves surrounded by Underlords who are not. Do you believe that I would be interested in Underlords who are not intelligent?"

"No, though… If I may make an observation?" She gives a very slight shrug. "I have noticed that your Underlords appear to be… Content, with their place in the universe. There is significantly less infighting than in the domains of most other System Lords. Even System Lord Kali has to slap sense into her subordinates every so often. If I had only seen your domain I would have guessed that it was a matter of Darwinism; only those who got a clue survived. But once I take the others into account, that simply can't be it."

"You told Lady Heset that you intended to use her perfume to convert gods with no interest in participating in this great war to my side. Hear now the voice of experience: the perfume is unnecessary. Those gods seeking a safe haven do not have to like me in order to recognise that I am remaining above the fray."

"But it may perhaps speed things along?"

"If they do not want to be here then I do not want them here. They will simply create unwelcome disruption in the long run."

I bow my head in obeisance. "Then I shall abandon the idea. And… Lady Heset?"

"You are free to attempt to convert her. I already have her under observation. She will not be a problem in any case."

"Then I will do so. I apologise for the disruption."

"She went to Syrania to gain control of you. You had little choice." She glances at Tey, and… They maintain eye contact for a moment, but I don't know the High Priestess well enough to interpret her expression. "What did you think of her offer?"

"Given that she is a Tok'Ra agent, I doubt that she was authorised to speak on your behalf. If the offer were genuine, I would have expected a member of your court to inform me, or to be…" Um. "Summoned."

"As you have been."

"Yes, but I assumed that you merely wanted to confirm the nature of my discussion with Lady Heset."

She smiles, and waves her right hand. "Assume that I do desire you."

"I… Suppose that it would depend on what… Exactly you wanted. While it would be a great honour, I do not have the renown to be your consort. Perhaps… In a few years, if the other Underlords see a significant material benefit to my work, but not yet. As for… Creating the conditions necessary for the generation of a new generation of prim'ta-"

Tey bites her lip, her mouth shaking as she tries not to laugh.

"-that would be a privilege, but… I believed that you preferred the female form?"

"It is perhaps not common knowledge, but I prefer male partners for that process."

"Ah. I would… Er."

"Does the idea that I do not find your host so appealing dissuade you?"

"It is more… The winnowing. I realise that it is not practical to have a great many new gods elevated with every generation, but I am still disquieted at the notion of eating my own offspring."

"It is a common practice with a long history."

"I apologise for my bluntness, System Lord, but so have being driven mad by our own sarcophagi. The fact that it has been done for a long time does not mean that it is a good idea."

"Oh?" She looks mildly curious. "Then what would you do instead?"

"Create a mindless creature to serve to keep the Jaffa healthy, something like our ancient ancestors before they achieved apotheosis. And create a smaller number of true prim'ta to raise as our heirs."

She nods slowly. "Why, Lord Mammon. That sounds like a very 'human' solution."

Oh, heck.

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd November 1999
10:28 GMT

"Goa'uld civilisation is… What, eighty percent human and nineteen percent Jaffa? I have accepted that if my methods are more widely used, our subjects will inevitably gain a more precise understanding of our nature. If it costs us little or nothing, a human-friendly solution seems like something that-."

"Stop. Stop."

I stop, and she… Giggles? Huy is still glaring, but Tey decides with one glance at her goddess that her current level of restrain is unnecessary.

"Humans have attempted to pass themselves off as gods before. Other humans sometimes believe them. I could count on the fingers of one hand the number who have managed to fool goa'uld and still have two fingers left over. None have lasted as long as you under the circumstances that you have."

"I'm sorry, System Lord, but I fear that you have misunderstood-."

Her eyes flare slightly. "We do not glow orange."

"Would you mind if I sit down?"

She shrugs, then gestures to a richly upholstered chair under a desk off to the side of the room. I pull it over and sit down, then… Then implant the modified Mammon clone into myself without connecting myself to it. Then I flop back, using a ring connection to make him wiggle out of my mouth for a moment before pulling him back inside.

Then I straighten up. "I admit, the orange coloured form was a… An act of mummery. We're not much given to leaving our hosts when we don't need to, and I wanted to make a point."

And now Tey's uncertain, but Bastet looks… Impressed?

"A most excellent facsimile. But I can tell the difference between a living god and a dead one, even if you have some way to animate it." Oh. "Ah, I see that you did not know that."

No. I didn't. I knew they could sense the presence of trace amounts of naquada, but I hadn't realised-. The drawback of getting a lot of your information from a delusional paranoid. And it's not like Mammon put it in his records. To a goa'uld it would be such a basic thing that they wouldn't think about it.

"I do wear a personal force field. It may be interfering with your ability to detect me."

"Oh? In that case it should be simple for you to transfer yourself into a new host."

"If you wish. I will return to Syrania and request-."

"I think-" She frowns thoughtfully. "-that I will provide you with one. A volunteer. A male priest might be a novelty."

Ah…

I could… Sneak my brain out of my body-. But then I couldn't animate the goa'uld corpse.

…

No, that's completely impractical. What else..? Scans show… I should be able to get out of here safely.

I tilt my head slightly to the right. "I thought that you'd be angrier."

There's a very quiet hiss of air through Tey's lips as she hears my confession. Was she unsure? Or now that I'm acknowledging my own humanity, is she taking offence at my irreverence?

Bastet looks more satisfied. "I considered it, but the situation is too ridiculous. How many gods have you fooled now?"

"I'm not sure. Eighty-seven haven't made mention of it. It may also amuse you to know-."

Her smile broadens. "You fooled the Tau'ri as well!"

"As far as I can tell, they have no idea. What..? Gave me away? There must be ways for gods to avoid each others notice."

"I knew Lord Mammon of old. He collected my own tithes for Ra, and I remember his arrogance well. Your story that your fall and entombment had changed you was… Plausible, but to change as completely as you had? Unlikely. Then there was your relaxed attitude to the Tau'ri explorers, and your willingness to swear yourself to me. Mammon would have preferred independence, if he had the means to preserve it as you do."

I nod. "I didn't have a good model of his behaviour to work with. I hoped that if I gave a plausible explanation, no one would look too closely at it." I hold my hands out, palms upwards. "So what happens now?"

"What do you think I will do?"

I don't know. I expected more ranting, even if she was intelligent enough to know that there isn't much she could do to stop me leaving. It's actually a pleasant surprise that she's taking it this well. But… She is a legalist, not an altruist. She maintains a 'fair' society because it works better than a chaotic arbitrary mess. All recorded instances of a human pretending to be a goa'uld have resulted in the human's death, but that's not so much a law as a way that goa'uld always respond to an insult that big. The closest actual law would be the one against falsely claiming a goa'uld's authority. But that doesn't exactly apply because Mammon is dead. The authority I've been acting under is either my own or what Bastet has given to me.

"I suspect that I'm too useful to discard. I suspect that you'll keep knowledge of my nature to a small circle of people, and release it if I ever act against you to undermine any support base I've built up."

"Ah, so confident."

"If you were going to do something more extreme then I wouldn't be here, in a small room, with your two closest confidents. Unless it turns out that you liked Mammon, in-."

"No." She shakes her head. "No one liked Mammon. Even Ra only used him to irritate people."

"Oh." I frown. "That's a bit of a shame. His personal records suggest that he genuinely respected Ra. Anyway, if no one else has spotted me then me being here doesn't hurt your reputation significantly. Or… Am I wrong?"

"No, you are correct." Huy's jaw tenses slightly. Ah yes, she is not happy about this. "But I am perfectly aware that your abilities are a good deal more advanced that you have openly admitted."

I cautiously nod.

"So given what I have gained from you, it would behoove me to see that you are bound to me more closely."

"Do you wish to receive more regular reports on-?"

"I wish for you to sire a child on me." She considers for a moment. "And a brood of prim'ta, afterwards, while I am still feeling maternal. I will appoint you as my regent while I convalesce. That will accustom my other Underlords to your authority."

Um. What?

"Um. What?"

"You need not worry. Since you are not a goa'uld yourself there will be no risk of me birthing a harcesis."

"I… Modified my blood with Mammon's genetic material in case-. You.. checked. Also… I…"

"You are too useful to discard, and too dangerous to let out of my sight for long. So I will bind you to me as powerful rulers have bound retainers since time immemorial. You would be far more hesitant to flee and abandon your child, and I am not an unpleasant bedmate."

"I.. would, and… You're not. Ah-. Won't be. Would.. you be willing to hear my suggestions for the genetic programming of the new goa'uld, and for their upbringing?"

"Of course. You will be their father. It is only right that you be involved."

"And… Your host is..?"

"She is delighted at being given the opportunity to bear a child on behalf of her goddess. As she should be." She weighs me up for a moment. "We cannot keep perfect control of our vessels while pregnant. If she were resistant to the idea then it would not be worth the risk."

"Ah." Well, I was preparing for… And this does have the advantage of us being able to have an open and honest relationship. "That… Makes sense. How.. do you want to-?"

Bastet undulates to her feet and walks towards the inner doors. "My bedroom is through here."

"That-." I get up and start to walk after her. "I had thought… A courtship?"

She glances back. "We can do that as well."

"I-."

I become aware of the two sets of footsteps behind us. I stop, looking back at Tey and Huy.

"Ah, why are they-?"

"Witnesses."

"… Oh."

Marvellous.

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
10:29 EST

"Recognized, Match, B Two Five."

I don't even really know why I'm here. I know Conner really likes the mountain for a whole bunch of reasons, but it's never really… When they fixed my brain, I didn't… Want to be a weapon, because… Because to me, 'being a weapon' means smashing everything in a berserk rage and I never want to be like that again. For Conner, it has-. Positive associations. It was one of the few things he knew, and he started… Building his identity by fighting things. It was something that was natural for him.

I've.. done stuff with the Team before, but I don't really… I don't think I want to make a career out of it. Which is kinda funny, because I got Ka-. Mist-. Clark's brain, and knowing Lex Luthor I'm sure that Conner got as much of his brain as he could manage. He should be the smart one.

I look around the Mountain's hangar.

Ten thirty on a Saturday. Of course no one's here.

"Are you back already?"

I look up at the hangar's camera, frowning as I try and recognize the voice.

"Uh, yeah. It was kind of a-."

"Oh, the other one. I am in the T.V. room."

Right, I'm wearing dark glasses. Since Conner doesn't, just about everyone realises that the kryptonian wearing dark glasses is me. Mentally shrugging, I head up the stairs towards the kitchen.

"Are you allowed to be here?"

"No one stopped me. So, are you skiving off too, or are you here for a reason?"

I shrug to myself as I walk through the kitchen. "I was kind of looking for Conner, but I guess he's not here."

"Lotto!"

I look through to the living room, and there's a blonde head hanging over the back of the settee to the side so that she can look this way. Looks a bit uncomfortable, but…

Ah.

I know we've got a lot of blonde women around now but I don't think that's one of the Supergirls. Her hair's too short.

She smirks. "And you have no idea who I am, do you?"

"It's not that. I'm not as involved in the Team as Conner is. I'm just trying to work out if I should hit the alarm or not."

"No! No." She pulls her head back, and I hear… Material rubbing, and I stop in the middle of the dining area just in case this turns into a fight. "My father gave me an identification card."

"Your father?"

"Jay Garrick."

I frown. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't have any-"

She's standing in the living room, and then she's closer and closer, fast enough that my eyes can barely keep up and I feel everything else slow, a drip from the sink faucet stopping in the air and a tiny cloud of dust the cleaning robots missed freezing like a solid cloud and I reach out to stop her or grab her and she arrives, stopping with my hand on her chest as time starts moving at normal speed again.

"Oh?" She looks down at my hand. "Very forward."

"Last time I hesitated to punch Aunty Philippus in the-. Chest, she broke my nose. Do you have that I.D. card?"

"You really can't work it out? You are speaking German."

"I am-?"

Oh. Yes. I am. That's the problem with learning languages telepathically; you sometimes… Switch tracks without meaning to.

"Anyway, here-" She pulls out a laminated card. "-is my papers."

Johanna Garrick. Lightning-. Blitzen. Justice League affiliate.

I remove my hand.

She looks at me reproachfully. "You can leave it there if you like."

"I-. I don't."

"Is it because I'm Nazi?"

"I think its because I'm three years old. Do you know where Conner is?"

"Ahhh… No. Kid Flash said something about helping Big Barda move Apokoliptian technology from where it is being stored to a more permanent home? But I do not know where they are doing that, and I don't know if Overboy is with him. You could.. telephone him."

"No, that sounds important." I mean, I could help, but… Joining in when it's him and Megan always makes me feel like a third wheel. They're nice about it, but…

"You want to watch some T.V.?" Johanna walks normal-speed back into the lounge. "When I want to stop thinking I put the stupid cartoons with the bad drawings on."

I follow her, watching her as she flops back onto the settee she'd been lying on. "Why do you want to stop thinking?"

"Oh! Subtle!"

She pulls her legs up next to her, and I… I just sit in the air in front of her. Close enough for a conversation, but far enough away that I'm not crowding her. I think. She gives me a fairly blank look.

"So what were you doing today, anyway?"

"Doing my induction for a summer internship. Except it's at an evil company and they faked a robot attack on me and one of their managers to try and get me to show my powers."

"That sounds fun. I assume you didn't do the sensible thing and level the whole place."

"No, I'm still going for the internship. Some girl called Janet is showing me around the office tomorrow. Ah. So how about you?"

"My problems-" She looks away. "-are… The Orange Lantern and.. the other members of the team, asked me to join the Alliance of the Just to try to find out if there was anything sinister happening."

"Did you.. find anything?"

"I found some groovy-looking helmets. I even tried one on."

Oh. "So…"

"Yes. Mind controlled, for the whole thing. It… Um. It wasn't very nice. And… Then there was the white light. It is… Making me think about things."

"And so you want to stop thinking."

"For now."

"Shouldn't you be talking this over with your-. Ah, with Mister Garrick?"

"I have, a bit. Ah, but what does he know about it." She thinks to herself for a moment, then looks back up at me. "I was… It was all selfish, you know? I worked with the New Statesmen because it made me so powerful that no one would try and tell me what to do. Apart from Overman, but he didn't micromanage. I never really cared about making other people's lives better outside of the job, never about People and State. And even coming here, it was just… Personal interest. And because I want to be somewhere else when Overman's war starts, and a little because I want Angelika to stop moping. But, the white light... It felt good, and now I am starting to feel bad. I think things about myself…"

"You want to become an actual superhero?"

"'Actual', yes." She snorts. "I want to believe in something more than myself. You understand my problem."

With the examples she had? "Ah… Yeah."

"So? What wisdom does Overboy Two have?"

"If you want guidance, don't talk to a three year old."

She smiles weakly. "Yes, that is fair. Perhaps we can consult Mister Ren and Mister Stimpy instead?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 27th, 2013
10:46 EST

"They never made that into an actual game, did they?"

I tear my eyes away from… I don't think this is my thing. And look at Johanna instead. "You mean, like, a board game, or do some people try it on real electric fences?"

"I meant the first one, but why would anyone try it with a real electric fence?"

"I don't know? Some people aren't all that smart, I guess. Um. Can I ask you a question?"

She frowns. "Does that question make more sense in English?" Then she picks up the remote and pauses the cartoon. "Sure, sure. What is it?"

"What were you looking for Conner for?"

"Oh, that sort of question."

"I mean, you don't.. have to answer, I just…"

"I didn't… You might be able to help, but he has been out of the pod for longer. And I barely know you."

"I didn't know you really knew him."

"I know him more-." She sighs. "No, I should not… Say it like that. I suppose-." She straightens up, and gives me a… Smile, like she's talking to a reporter. "How would you like to help me instead?"

"I mean, I've got the rest of the day free. What do you need?"

"Just 'what do you need'?"

I shrug. "I don't know if I can do whatever it is. But, sure."

Her eyes drop, and she gives her head a small shake. "This is… Very different for me."

I frown. "I know Angelika said that Leatherwing was… Not very nice. But-."

"He tortures people to death for fun. And… Yes, the rest aren't that bad. Except Underwaterman can't risk seeming disloyal because the Party still isn't sure whether the Atlanteans should be purged or not, Martian has the same problem, Brünhilde is inhuman… In the bad way, her only real interest is sending strong souls to the Allfather. And Green Lantern is too shallow."

"That-."

"Of course, they-" She shrugs. "-may say the same things about me. Not the.. Martian, he is telepathic, but the others…"

I nod. "So you're surrounded by people you can't risk trusting. And… It's not just that you can't trust them yet, it's… You can't ever take that risk. But I.. thought you said that you came here because you didn't want to help Overman."

"What happened when you were taken from your birthing pod?"

"Ah…" I close my eyes for a moment, trying to remember-. No. Still nothing. Dubbliex said that it might come back, but… Memories can come back when you're in the same headspace you were in when you made them, and I don't ever want to be that angry again. "The first time? I don't remember."

"Okay. And the second?"

I shake my head. "I don't really remember that, either."

She frowns. "Why not?"

"They… Made my brain wrong. My amygdala-. Well, it's not actually an amygdala, but the bit of the kryptonian brain that does the same thing, basically got stuck on 'anger'. Everything I saw or heard drove me berserk. After it got fixed, I… Can't exactly remember what I did. I kind of remember what it felt like, but that's about it. The first thing I remember clearly is waking up in Superman's Fortress."

She's… Looking at me weird.

"What?"

"When they made me… They did not keep the ones who were malformed."

Oh. "They kicked them out?"

"They killed them and dissected them to find out what went wrong. I… Remember a few of them. They just… Disappeared one day. I have a little something to remember Gertrude by."

She… Pulls up her shirt a little and points to a small scar on her abdomen.

"A super speed kidney."

"What happened to your old one?"

"Human Bomb. He worked very hard to trap the whole building." She lets go of her hem and her shirt falls back into place. "I dodged and outran a lot of it and I heal fast, but I cannot replace entire organs."

"Do you need kidneys that… Ah, have… Super speed?"

She looks at me as if I said something stupid. "Yes, of course I do. What do you think happens if most of my body can survive moving at lightspeed but one organ cannot?"

Oh. "Oh."

"Did you have other brothers?"

I… Don't think so. I haven't ever asked if-. No, they'd have said something. Connor said that Paul was really mad about the Justice League not finding me, and Dubbliex definitely would have said something.

"No. Not unless you count Superman. So you… Don't buck the system because you're scared they'll do the same thing to you?"

"That used to be why. And then my supervisors got purged and so on, so I started to buck little things. But I don't… I avoid doing anything bigger, and that is probably why. When I think about… Committing to something as Overman and Angelika are, or… I don't know, saying how I really feel at a meeting, it's like there's a lasso around me and yanking me back. I just say something slightly insolent and everyone carries on."

"Do you think it's the same with Green Lantern? Because that kinda sounds like what you said that he does."

"No, he-. He says something loyal but… Hollow? You could be right, I don't know." She started sagging slightly, but then she straightens up again. "Okay! That's it. That's all I am saying! Why are you trying to work for an evil company?"

"Ah… Basically, I want to save my father's soul."

"Ah… Which one is your father?"

"Lex Luthor."

"The one with the beard, or the other one?"

"The other one."

"Oh." She frowns, shaking her head. "That will never work. Why do you think it will?"

"He could just have tried to have Superman killed. Again, I mean. Instead he had me made. If he'd won, then he'd-. I mean, if I'd turned out right, have needed to work with me for years. Decades. And he used his own genetic material for Connor. I think he was invested. Personally."

She gives her head a little shake. "No. I was made by scientists too, remember. They don't do it because they care. They do it to show off. Oh, they might tolerate you if your perfect, but they're always… Looking out for what is going wrong. Because you're not person, not an heir, you're a… You're a… An accessory. And if an accessory doesn't look quite right or do what it's supposed to, into the bin in goes! And think of it no more."

"Well then.. maybe he just thinks he can manipulate me into doing something. I don't think he's a good person or anything, but… I still wanna try."

She nods, and gives me a small smile. "Maybe you will do in place of your brother."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd November 1999
17:57 GMT

Tey's eyes dance with laughter as I walk out onto the balcony, her face-. I've actually managed to make her blush. She covers her mouth with her fist and half turns her head away. Huy remains impassive, her disinterested glare boring into me. No one else here on Bastet's private balcony. I assume that servants must come in here at some point, but for now everyone's keeping their distance.

"Um." I move my eyes from one to the other. "Marks out of ten?"

Tey doubles over. "Hahheeheeheehah! Oh, what world do you come from where they do such… Things! Were you some great lady's concubine-"

"Um."

"-trained in the art of pleasure? Or were you ruled by Kamadeva or Oshun, and such things are just normal to you?"

Huy raises her left eyebrow, an expression I've seen on the Teal'c android's face on a couple of occasions.

"No, I-."

"And you have ruined Afareen for other men! You will have to take her as your concubine when her year is over!"

"No, her future husband will simply have to raise his game. Though I.. thank you for the compliment you are paying me. I, ah. I wasn't quite sure how the sensation passed on to the goa'uld within the host, so I thought… Best to be thorough."

With the ring letting me monitor her responses in real time, reliably find nerve endings and boosting my stamina… Well, when you're with a living goddess who rules hundreds of systems, you make sure to give it your all.

I glance back towards Bastet's inner sanctum.

It turns out that goa'uld hosts need rest when they're… Exhausted.

Huy's eyes narrow. "Where do you come from? What god rules there?"

"As far as I know we don't have any goa'uld. Certainly none that live openly. Somehow we had a successful rebellion against Ra about five thousand years ago, and we only-."

Her eyes widen. "You are Tau'ri!"

"Yes, but you have to understand, Earth isn't a politically unified planet. With no god to impose order, the humans there live in hundreds of separate nations and frequently make war upon one another. The Tau'ri who have been making a name for themselves fighting Ra and Apophis represent only one of those nations. I come from another."

"Are you enemies, then?"

"No. Honestly, we're not even competition, really. I just don't want to imply that I consider them to have any authority over me." I look them over. "So..? Are you here in case Bastet wants to… Keep trying?"

"No." Tey has mostly recovered herself. "No. We are here because if you are to act as our goddess's regent, you must learn how her realm is administered."

"Ah, thank you, but don't we have… Over a year? Before I can even try to impregnate her true body."

Tey shakes her head. "As she informed you, as the pregnancy progresses control of their shared body will change… Unpredictably, between Queen Bastet and Afareen. It would be awkward should that happen during an official meeting. Naturally, Afareen has been instructed on how to behave should it occur, but it would be awkward if it were noticed."

I nod. "Okay. How far into the pregnancy will that start to happen?"

"It has been some time since Queen Bastet bore a child, but the oldest records suggest that it is the last two months of the pregnancy where things will become most difficult for them. Depending on when she becomes pregnant-"

"Nine days."

"-she-. Nine days?"

"Based on the part of her fertility cycle she's in, that seems most likely. Ah, that Afareen is in. I haven't found any information on miscarriage rates in host pregnancies. I imagine that they're near-zero late term…"

And I should stop talking, because 'inner circle' these women might be, they still think of Bastet as a goddess. And it's not like I can't just move an egg from Afareen's ovary and induce-. No, no, leave it and let nature take it's course. I can't be there to monitor every moment of every day.

I give them a self-effacing smile. "Well, that's my best guess. Will you be observing..? Ah, future efforts?"

"I don't think so." Tey giggles like a woman a third of her age. "Not unless I want ideas for my husband! We just need to be able to confirm that the two of you were intimate during the period where her child will be conceived."

I raise my eyebrows at Huy, but she doesn't respond.

"Ah..?"

Tey frowns at her. "Huy…"

Huy stares over my shoulder. "I am my goddess's servant in all things. If you are to be her husband then you are to be her husband. That I do not understand why she did not pick literally any other man in her domain is my failing alone."

"My impiety, my low level of military preparedness or something else?"

"You pretended to be a god! And now you stand here completely without shame!"

Shame? You did just watch me-.

No, wrong approach. Try again.

"I pretended to be a goa'uld. And look what happened. System Lord Bastet's realm is the stronger for it, and she detected me when no one else did. I'd rather have been completely undetected, but if I have to be spotted then being spotted by my boss is probably the next best thing." I nod slowly. "I underestimated her. I'll have to try to avoid doing that in future."

"Do you not even see how ridiculous your position is? Of course you could not escape Bastet's detection. I suspect that the other gods of her domain are merely humouring you for her sake!"

"Now now." I smirk. "I'm not a goa'uld. I never said that I wasn't a god."

She clenches her fists. "I will-."

I make an upwards flicking gesture with my right hand, causing the stone paving of the balcony to flow upwards into a peak next to me. I then rise off the ground, floating with my feet level with her knees.

"System Lord Bastet keeps me around for very good reasons. Just as Supreme System Lord Ra's warriors were not Jaffa but could still fight extremely well, the fact that I am not a goa'uld does not mean that my achievements didn't happen or that my abilities aren't real."

Huy's face relaxes a little, and she reaches out to poke the stone. Discovering that it is in fact real and solid, she takes a very careful breath.

"Oh, silly me. Let me fix that before she wakes up. I would be a poor guest if I damaged her home."

Huy inclines her head. "I-. I apologise, my lord."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm taking this as a learning experience. For both of us. If you're going to be leading Bastet's armies while she convalesces, it's best if we each know what the other is capable of."

"As.. you say."

"So." I smile. "Priestess Tey. I've met all of Bastet's Underlords, but I've only met a couple of the minor gods who serve her directly. Why don't we start with them?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd November 1999
02:21 GMT

"Lord Mammon."

Having roused herself and bathed, System Lord Bastet ordered that a private dinner be readied while I received the first part of my education in my future duties from her…

I mentally smile at the term.

'Gal pals'.

And once the meal was prepared and she'd had time to array herself, I was summoned and they were released back to their regular duties.

A private dinner for the two of us, about a dozen Jaffa guards standing at the ready around the room, and five or six servers of various types.

"System Lord Bastet." I bow, but she rolls her eyes and gestures to the couch opposite her. "Thank you."

"I believe that there are things that we must discuss about your new station." She smiles as a tureen of soup and a plate of flat breads are brought forth and placed on the low table between us. "Though I admit that I think it will be more amusing to instead ask you what you think that you need to know."

A young serving maid looks at me questioningly, and I nod. She raises a ladle and serves me a bowl of vegetable soup.

"I.. suppose that the first thing to ask is what you consider appropriate to say in front of human witnesses."

"You may discuss law and politics freely, and our personal relations as well. Details of technology and science make for poor dinner conversation."

"Then I suppose that I should ask what I am to call you. I have been erring on the side of caution in using your full title, but given… Our current relationship, perhaps it would be more appropriate to use your name, if only in private?"

"Lord Mammon, you have been my favourite for some time. It was 'appropriate' when you discovered the error in the sarcophagus."

"And yet you call me 'Lord'."

She smiles fondly. "I sometimes think that you need to be reminded of your rank. You seem oddly uncomfortable with the title."

I nod as I take a flatbread. "I spend a long time without being a 'Lord'. Abandoning that ego was a big part of how I became what I am today. Bastet, then. But… I was also wondering if a… Pet name was also appropriate."

She smiles fades faintly. "'Pet' name?"

"Yes. It was fairly common practice on the world of my birth for couples to refer to one another by a term of endearment rather than by name. Is that not something that happens here?"

She looks mildly intrigued. "It is not something that has happened to me, but I have not before attempted this particular form of courtship. I will tolerate this. Make certain that it is a good one."

'Pussycat' shelved.

The vegetable matter in the soup appears to be a mixture of grains and legumes, and a combination of spices which I can't immediately identify. Certainly, it's not quite like anything I've had when I've been here before. But I think I like it.

"A new recipe?"

"Public dining is a ritual in which I display the wealth and power of my realm. Private dining is a different matter."

"I think we have different definitions of 'private'. A privilege of not being a System Lord, I suppose."

I try the bread, and… I don't think it's wheat, but the texture is pleasant.

"It is still so strange to hear you call it a privilege. Most gods would relish the chance to display wealth, even if they could ill-afford it."

"They would be better served playing the long game. Bite your tongue today, and quietly but smugly lord it over your enemies in a few centuries." I sigh. "Though I can be pleased that the tendency to not do that is shared by those idiots in the Tok'Ra."

"Which brings us on to the subject of our children."

I nod cautiously.

"Your expressed a desire to involve yourself. What manner of life would you plan for them?"

"For a human child it is impossible to say until their particular talents reveal themselves. I… Am tempted to arrange for them to be educated on a world that is more technologically advanced than those in your domain."

"You would give them over to the Tau'ri?"

"I would sneak them into a school somewhere on Earth, in the guise of a wealthy merchant. They would have to learn a couple of languages first, but beyond that the range of cultures common in such schools would cause the other children to overlook any oddities. Or there are other worlds, off the stargate network."

"I have not yet quickened and you are already planning to abandon our child." She raises her eyebrows mockingly. "Are you certain that you want to become a father?"

"I don't intend to abandon them. If needs be we can relocate a stargate and buy some land wherever we choose to send them to build a home for them. But unlike System Lord Yu, you use minor gods to rule all of the worlds in your domain. Putting a human in charge of one would be awkward, since they would not share the gods' knowledge base."

"There are significant roles that are performed by humans."

"True, but… Unless you're planning on bearing more than one child, I think it would be better to establish a new tradition. Being your child would set them apart from their fellows anyway. I think it would be best to let them create a unique role for themselves in your civilisation." I frown. "Unless they turn out to be a wastrel, in which case maybe they could act as a host for one of their siblings."

"I would want to see the world your proposed to have them educated on and the school you wish to send them to."

"I will do my due diligence and submit a full report."

"I will wait with great curiosity. And our divine children?"

"We are well aware of the usual drives which queens bestow upon their children. But the success of your realm is based on the actions of Underlords who have risen above the need to constantly expand and dominate all those around them. Do you intend to raise an heir, or a new Underlord tied to you by blood?"

"Why would I need an heir?"

"Each of your Underlords in content in their place. The only thing that could disrupt your domain is if they were no longer certain that they could continue to live as they prefer to. That and that alone could turn your domain into a mirror of nearly every other domain in the galaxy, with Underlords constantly at one another's throats. And the only way that could happen is if you were killed in such a way that you could not be resurrected. Raising an heir ensures continuity, and ensures that if the worst comes to pass then your realm will remain whole, your ideas continue and your death will be avenged."

"Planning for my death already? It usually takes longer."

I look her directly in the eyes. "Perhaps I should say something romantic, about wanting to spend eternity with you and that your death is unthinkable. But the truth is that having a plan for your death is a necessity for a competent ruler, and you are certainly that. I would do everything I could to keep you alive, but I am not all-powerful. And I have yet to discover whether or not cloning gods is practical or useful."

"And what gifts should I pass on from my ancestors?"

"They have all the time in the universe to learn new skills, but few goa'uld rise above the mindset their mothers grant them. I would say that the most important thing to share with them is sagacity, and an instinctive understanding of why it is necessary. Ambition on its own goa'uld have a surfeit of, but dedication to an ideal may serve to motivate them just as well while avoiding the pitfalls of vainglorious pride and foolhardy arrogance."

"You would have me neglect the greatest advantage our kind has over mortals?"

"I would de-emphasise it. I don't know how the process works, how much… Ancestral attitude is bound up in the technical data."

"It would be a challenge, but I understand your reasoning and I believe that it is worth the attempt. Now, what plans have you made to continue our courtship?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
09:01 EST

"Whaw!" Ah… Janet? Good, I'm in the right place. She looks me over. "So cool you wear sunglasses inside, huh?"

I shrug a little awkwardly. How my eyes look doesn't bother me, and most people are fine after the initial surprise. But it's… A little awkward, walking down the street and having people stare.

"Got a black eye?"

"Yes." I nod. "Two, actually."

She smirks. "'Ain't really none of my business, but I say leave the bastard.'"

I blink. Which she can't see. "Huh?"

"It's from G.I. Jane? The movie?" We stare at each other. "She gets a black eye in training, and then-?"

"Ah, I haven't watched it." This.. feels awkward. I reach up and pull my sunglasses off to try and derail the conversation. "My eyes look like-"

"AH!"

"-this."

I smile a little as she covers her mouth with her hands, blushing in embarrassment. Human emotions aren't easy to tell apart with super senses, but that one's pretty easy.

"Oh, I-. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." I put the glasses back on. "I'm used to-."

"Does it hurt?"

"Taking the glasses off? Not really."

"No, the-. The eye.. thing."

"Ah, not really? I mean, they've always been like this. They still work fine, they just look-."

"You were an evil-eye baby!"

This time she doesn't cover her mouth. She just sort of stands there, the corners of her mouth tugging slightly downwards as she thinks about what she just said. But I don't know. I was pretty much like this the first time they let me out of the pod. I mean, they had to grow me to full size first. They didn't just make a scaffold and then apply stem cells and hope for the best. And I guess that my eyes would have looked like this at the time. But I.. don't think I'd have opened them until they let me out, so they probably wouldn't have known.

Huh. Hadn't thought of it like that. The first time I woke up and tried to kill everyone, the only notice they'd have had that something was wrong would have been my eyes.

"So..? My induction?"

"Yeah! Induction!" She turns away and heads for the elevator. "I'm just-. I'll just show you around, and, ah… Show you one of our current campaigns."

I follow her, nodding. "Are there any robots here?"

"Not any more." The elevator doors close and she presses the button for the third floor. "We used to have cleaning robots, but maintenance found out that Mexicans were cheaper. Then they double-checked, and found out that people from Gotham were even cheaper because we didn't have to pay off I.C.E.."

"… Oh."

"Heh. Uhh…"

I.. try to escape the awkwardness by looking through the side of the elevator-. But this is a LexCorp building, so it's lead-lined.

"I mean… We don't actually… Pay off I.C.E.."

"No. Because you get people from Gotham."

"Didn't! Didn't pay off I.C.E.!"

I nod. "No, I.C.E. doesn't cover robots. As long as they're made in the U.S., I guess."

"I didn't mean it like-. It was just a.. joke."

I nod again. "Yeah, I wouldn't hire people from Gotham either."

"No, Steve's a great guy! And-. Uh. I should.. stop joking about his hometown, huh?"

"I don't know. I know a couple of people from Gotham, and they're usually the first to make jokes about it. But if he's from Mexico, then-."

Ping.

I hear her mutter 'thank God' as she dashes out of the elevator and onto the third floor. I follow her out. Looks like a standard office layout. There's a series of large desks split up with dividers, and the ones I can see from the walkway have the normal family photos, meme images… Business reports? There's a fancier desk at one end which I guess is for the… Supervisor or manager, and there's a meeting room separated from the main office by a chipboard wall.

I don't know what Janet's worried about. Since the life broadcast, crime in Gotham's been way down. According to Robin, even the insane supervillains have dialled down the lethality. I haven't checked on Mexican crime rates so I don't know if things are better or worse there. Violent criminals didn't have a good survival rate, and there's a lot less demand for drugs now.

I know Miss Teschmacher said that the only reason Janet has a job is that she makes a good damsel in distress, but I don't see it. Sure, she's only a little older than my documentation says I am, but that's really the only thing that might make her more appealing. Unless… I've never really noticed, but most people seem to think that Amazons are really attractive. So… Maybe I've just gotten used to a higher level of attractiveness?

"So, ah, this is where we work…" Janet turns and holds her arms out, indicating the office. "During the week. We sometimes work weekends when there's a big project on, but otherwise it's pretty much nine to five thirty, and… This isn't advertising, so... We don't really have big projects all that often."

"So what do you do?"

"Get data, plot out demands for… Just about everything, really. Look at products and services, try and work out what people want right now and what they're going to want…"

"You do that?"

"Yeah-. Oh, wait, do you mean me personally? Well, I do.. some of that. Sometimes. Miss Teschmacher says that I'm great for finding out the appropriate level of complexity for mass market items in order to avoid end user confundity. There's no sense making instructions that people can't understand."

Huh. I mean, she's right, but I don't know if she got the implication that they use her as an idiot-proofing standard or not.

"And, y'know, basic fetching and carrying and things like that. I'm kind of like her P.A.!"

"Do you know if she's okay? She seemed fine when I left yesterday, but…"

"Oh, we get problems like that all the time. I'm sure she's-." Her face goes still. "Ah, no. No we don't. LexCorp robots have an excellent safety record. I just mean-. She's great at dealing with-. Ah, little problems? Without losing focus. And she wasn't hurt so I'm sure that she's fine."

I nod. "Okay. So what are your team working on now?"

"Now? Logistics. Global shipping isn't going so great, and we're trying to work out how to make it better!"

"How?"

"Well, Atlantean portals bypass the intervening space, so they're great for logistics. But there's this British chocolate company that's pretty much covered the market there, so we're looking at other ways to move things around, just, better. Come on, I'll show you the physical space planning room!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
09:43 EST

Janet looks confused as she works the cafeteria coffee machine. "Oh, I don't know. I think that stuff gets handled at whatever department we send the data to. You'd have to ask Miss Teschmacher about it."

I nod as I look around the empty room. I always figured that every part of LexCorp would be a 24-7 operation, but I guess that Business Development isn't quite that time critical? If they're forecasting years or decades in advance, then there's no reason why a… A treasury report, or people starting buying slightly more hats all of a sudden really changes anything.

"Thanks."

She smiles as she puts the coffee down, and I can tell from the smell that she forgot the cream and sugar. If this is all it usually takes, I'm starting to get a little worried about how lonely male metahumans must be.

"It is a good idea though. I know we get loads of data on areas that LexCorp doesn't operate in. You should mention it to her next time you see her."

It wasn't anything radically clever on my part, but it would make sense for this part of the company to sell its conclusions to other businesses. Aside from anything else, it would let them mark out potential acquisition targets.

I take a sip of my coffee, which… Yeah, Ferdinand would put whoever made this through remedial coffee training. It's… Making me think about how lucky I am. I grow up in an embassy with someone as great as Princess Diana as my mom and Connor as my brother, and Johanna… Had none of that. No real parents and her sister got cut up for parts. I take another sip. It's… Pretty bad. I don't know if it's just me or something, but this sort of coffee combined with super smell and super taste… It's not a good combination. I can't just try and get used to it or ignore it, I've just got to accept the bitterness.

"Does this place always shut down on Sundays?"

"Not completely. Catering and I.T. are usually in doing cleaning or whatever while everyone else is on a break." She looks around like she's only just noticing that the place is empty. "Huh. I guess I'm just in early today."

Oh great. So they made sure that everyone except the company white goat is away from the site. Maybe when whatever they've got planned happens I can hide her in a cupboard and use some of my powers? But if there aren't any robots here then I don't really see what-.

"She-ee's a killah queeeeen!"

Janet grabs her phone. "Hey Miss Teschmacher! … Yeah, he's right here." She holds the phone away from her ear. "She says 'hey'." Hm? Oh yeah, just showing him around. … No, are we expecting anyone? A delivery? Ooh, does this mean that someone else has to carry it up this time?" She stares at my right arm for some reason. "Yes he does. … No, like, five feet away? … Okay. I will. See you on Monday!"

She puts the phone down.

"Okay, so apparently there's some kind of delivery coming today. Would you mind bringing it up for me?"

"Uh." I shrug. "Sure. I can do that. What is it?"

"Oh." She frowns. "She didn't say. Is it a problem?"

"Well, if it's something small then I don't mind but if it's something big then I might need help. Won't the delivery guys just bring it to where you ask?"

She shrugs. "Miss Teschmacher didn't think so. Maybe it's a security thing?"

"I'm not even a LexCorp employee."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have gotten this far if you hadn't passed vetting. And it's not like we don't know who you are. Wonder Woman suddenly having two sons was kind of a big deal. I mean, who are we gunna mistake you for, Clark Kent?"

Ah. "Who's that?"

"This reporter guy who did an article on our work one time. He made it sound really sinister."

I.. frown. "Sinister how?"

"Like… We worked out that the market in laundrette washing machines was gunna shrink in future even though demand was strong right then, and that went up to the Board and a couple of factories got shut down."

"Okay, that… Sounds like normal business to me."

"Yeah. But… Okay, so, apparently, during the… Thirties? Car companies used to buy up tram and bus companies and close them down to create more demand for cars. And so the article said that because we weren't producing as much while demand was high, then the price would go up, and then laundrettes can't get washers or parts then they go out of business so they put their prices up, which means that buying a home washer starts being a better choice. And, y'know, LexCorp makes them too."

"But if you make both, why do you care which one gets bought?"

"Oh, well, that actually made sense."

…

"Okay, how?"

"The laundrette models get used a lot more, right? So they're built to be easy to maintain and the laundrette attendants learn how to fix basic stuff. But the home versions are made to be smaller, so they can actually fit through regular-sized doors and into peoples' utility rooms and stuff. But that makes them harder to maintain and so they stop working after fewer washes."

That… Ah, that sounds like it could be true? I don't-. I only wash my own clothes on Themysicra, and they don't use modern machines to do it.

"So what do you think about that?"

"It's not like it's a sinister plot. It's just convenient not to have to take all your clothes down the street to wash them, and that's the way the market was going. It's not like we can mind control people into buying the things we want them to. And we're not the only company making washer-driers; if we were wrong then other companies will pick up the slack."

And… That sounds reasonable, too. I don't know. I always thought that LexCorp made most of its money in cutting edge technology, but I guess there's not much call for a superhero to know about the ins and outs of the washing machine market. You can't really punch normal business shenanigans, even if you wanted to.

I take a moment to think about where I'm planning on interning.

Maybe I could do more good here than I thought?

"Actually, you do look kinda like Clark Kent." Her eyes widen. "Oh God, is he your Dad?"

I let myself look as awkward as I feel. "Ah, he'd have been in high school, and Mom was still on Themyscira. You know, with no contact with the outside world and no men. I mean, if he was really good at swimming I guess it wouldn't be completely impossible, but, ah… No."

"So, like… Who is?"

"Ah…"

Bring-bring! Bring-bring!

Janet huffs, and then picks up her cell. "Y'ello? Okay, we'll be right down."

She hangs up and then stands up, giving me an excuse to abandon most of my coffee. "Okay, they're here. Let's head down."

I get up and follow her towards the elevator. "Did they say what it was?"

"No, but it sounded like it was a computer company, so I guess it was something… Computery?"

So, bulky, but not all that heavy. That sounds like something that I can carry without giving away how strong I really am. Unless…

"Do you have a sack barrow?"

"A what?"

I mime out using one. "Like a.. sort of L-shape, with handles and two wheels? It's used for moving boxes."

"Oh! Yeah, I know what you mean. There's one in the post room on the first floor."

"Great! Let's go get it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
09:49 EST

One of the deliverymen waves through the front window as we head towards the front door. I've got the sack barrow from the mail room, and I leave it to rest by the front desk so that I can help bring stuff in while Janet fiddles with the security panel. A moment later there's a click as the front door unlocks, and then slides open.

"Hey there!" The first deliveryman walks in, phone in hand. "Can you sign for this?"

I look to Janet as she comes back around from the security panel. "Sure can! Ah, what exactly is it?"

He shrugs, taking a look at his phone app. "The only way I'd know that is if I'd opened it. Says it's from… Stagg Computers? Ring a bell?"

I frown. LexCorp makes computers, and I can't see why-. Oh, competitor intelligence, I guess. But wouldn't… Someone at Stagg have wondered why a LexCorp subsidiary was ordering their equipment? No, no, publically available data wouldn't be something that they'd try and protect. If they found that LexCorp used patented designs they'd just use the sale as evidence when they sued them.

Janet shakes her head and reaches for the mobile. "No, but that doesn't mean anything. I'm not even usually in the office on Sunday."

"Boss doesn't tell you anything, right. We're-" He makes a beckoning gesture to the three guys outside, and they start carrying in… One large package carried by two of them with a… Part of a mainframe or a server, maybe? And a… Generic box containing various pieces of wiring and smaller devices. I'm not exactly sure what any of it is. "-just going to bring everything into the lobby, you can check it over, and if you're okay with it, just make a squiggle on the app."

Janet looks awkward. "I don't know what any of this is meant to look like?"

"Oh, ah, that's fine." He points something out to her on the screen. "You can just put it as 'received unchecked', and then if there's any problem, it doesn't say that you confirmed it was in good condition when you got it."

"Oh, thanks." She waits for the large package to come in, gives it a perfunctory look and then signs the app.

The closest of the two guys holding the big box looks at me. "You on mule duty for your girlfriend?"

"Pretty much." I nod. "Just lean it up against the desk."

"Alright." They get into position and then lower it to the ground. "There are three more to-"

He straightens up and sprays my face with something.

"-go."

Oh, darn it. I don't recognise the smell, so I don't know how poisonous this is supposed to be. If it's just pepper spray-.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the guy with the cell phone catch Janet as she falls over without screaming. Knock out gas, great. Except I'm bigger than she is, so it should work slower.

I cough, and then stagger a step away from the guy who sprayed me.

"Easy-" He grabs me under my arms and starts walking away from the front windows. "-does it."

I make a point of struggling weakly for a moment, and then going limp. I wonder if I should have checked them out more carefully before Janet let them in? No, no. This is still a fake, part of their dumb plan to make me open up to Janet. I don't recognise these guys, but their heart rates are really steady for people performing a risky crime in broad daylight. They're in on it.

Someone picks up my legs, and I'm moving.

"Okay, we've got an hour scheduled for this. You all know what to do. Anything out of place-."

"Radio at once, we know."

"Yeah, but the one time I don't remind you…"

"Who are these kids?"

The guy holding the back of the large box. There's a pause, and I get to ponder the merits of my eyelids blocking all of the wavelengths I can see. Being able to see through them would make sleeping a whole lot harder, but I wouldn't miss their facial expressions.

"Office gopher and an intern. They don't know anything."

There's a bang as the… Doors to the stairwell open.

"They've seen our faces. That's a problem."

"You know this stuff messes up short term memory. They could have seen the big boss himself and they wouldn't be able to report anything. Look, you don't want Luthor coming after us for killing his employees."

"If he doesn't know it was us-."

"Yeah, I don't think people like him have trouble finding out who did things. We kill his people, we're his targets. We just do the job, he just takes it out on our boss. Trust me, this isn't my first time, and our boss isn't my first employer."

"Okay."

"Hey, does the spray knock them out for the full hour?"

"Depends on a bunch of things. But it'll mess up their memory for at least that long, and they'll feel pretty out of it. If they get up, just tell them they don't look well and should go lay down."

"So we're not putting balaclavas on now?"

"No point. If something unexpected happens, we're just moving some equipment for a couple of kids who got drunk when they were in the office on their own. Stay calm, stay out of trouble."

"Beats cracking safes."

"That's still a thing?"

"No. That's why I'm here. It's a dying art. Everything's electronic, the fences gouge like you wouldn't believe, and I'm not signing up with a theme villain. Not where I'm from."

"I think Catwoman manages okay."

"Catwoman's got a better ass than me."

There's some low chuckling.

"Explains some things. Where we putting them again?"

"Fifth floor boardroom. No external window, solid walls and the door has an electronic lock we can control. We lock it when we leave, and stick a little something in with them."

"A bomb? I thought you said-."

"A half-empty liquor bottle."

"Heh. Tying them up?"

"Why?"

"Maybe tie him up? Make it look like they got drunk and… You know… Had a little-."

"Hey, have a little class, man. He's sixteen."

"So he's a lucky bastard? … What?"

"You had to ruin it."

The man carrying my front pushes open a door on what I guess is the fifth floor. So what's going to happen? They put is in the meeting room, leave us to sleep it off, LexCorp obviously knows that I'll be fine… Something's got to threaten Janet, and I'll have to stop it.

I guess I should just treat it like one of Robin's training scenarios.

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
09:58 EST

I open my eyes, taking care to avoid focusing on anything for any length of time just in case they're watching us through a camera or something. We are in the meeting room like they said, and I'm not even tied up. Janet isn't tied up either, but she… She's unconscious. I've seen a lot of unconscious people, and from what I can see it looks like drunk-unconscious rather than head trauma-unconscious. She certainly doesn't smell injured.

What are those guys here for, and does it really matter?

I've heard of Stagg Enterprises, but I don't really know anything about them. Just having the name of your real employer on your paperwork seems like a bad idea for criminals, so I guess it's supposed to be… Misdirection? Or LexCorp trying to implicate a rival if I captured them and it came to trial? Their leader seemed to have definite ideas about giving us the gentle treatment, so it's possible that he's the only one in on this being a fake robbery. I guess that adds verisimilitude, but it also means that they won't know not to use lethal force against-. Janet. And me, but that's more awkward than anything else.

So what happens if I just sit here? Because this isn't one of Robin's training scenarios. I'm not getting taught how to fight better, or handle dangerous situations better or save people. They're just trying to get me to tell someone that I have super powers.

I mean… It might look good on my application if I handle this…

I loll my head, looking through this floor to try and see if any of them are still up here. I can't see through the main walls but-. Yeah, I can see through the glass and partitions just fine. One guy still here, and he's just got a pistol and a gas spray. I can't see the rest of them, but maybe…

I close my eyes and strain my ears, listening for the sound of communication. Ignoring the more muffled sounds from outside. I think this place is well insulated, possibly because Lex Luthor wanted to make it harder for Superman to hear his staff. The elevator doors and the stairwell doors are fire doors but that doesn't mean that they're airtight, and I'm a kryptonian. And if someone told them that -or just their leader- then they could have picked up a white noise generator or some sort of vibration inhibiting field.

"…an A.I.? And it can see us?"

"No. Like I said, the scrambler stops the local system from deciding that we're a problem it needs to refer upwards. And when we're done here, we can delete the records and stop it making more until we've left."

"Huh?"

"What? Oh. Okay, you know when you see something out of the corner of your eye, jerk your head around and then see it's actually just… A plastic bag or whatever?"

"Ah, yeah. I know what you mean."

"Basically, they stop the A.I. seeing us out of the corner of its eye. It can still see us, but it doesn't think anything of us. We're wallpaper. Carpet. A wave in an ocean of waves."

"That's poetic, man. Beautiful."

"Oh, fuck you. You want a full explanation, do three years of college computer science so you can understand it."

"Okay, but what if someone manually checks it?"

"Oh, then we're screwed. But do you really think that there's an actual human watching every camera in all of LexCorp on a Sunday? A Sunday when there isn't even supposed to be anyone in the office?"

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"So how come we're so much smarter than LexCorp?"

"Oh, we're not. The guys who are smarter than LexCorp hired us to take the risks."

"Guess they're smarter than us, too."

"No doubt."

There's a clunk.

"Okay, that's the first part done. Now we're gunna connect the new board up very carefully. This part actually is dangerous. If you get electrocuted, that's a separate warning circuit and it might set off the A.I. whatever else is happening."

"And then what?"

"Then you have to go to a hospital because you got electrocuted."

"And then we pull out, fast. LexCorp won't call in the Justice League and their internal security will take… Well, it depends. They could get their power armour here in-. Can you hold that? Thanks. In about six minutes if it was fuelled and ready to go, but it's more likely that they'd call everyone off-shift in New York. Or the police."

"And then we pull out and get to a hospital."

"The hospital thing depends. If an electrical shock alarm goes off, then anyone who turns up at a hospital with electrical shocks is going to be a suspect."

"So, don't get shocked. You wanna hold this?"

Okay, they're doing something with the server. I could-.

I do have a panic button. They didn't take it off me. I could just press it and there'd be a squad of Amazons here in a few minutes. Or I could press the other one and Johanna would be here in a few seconds. Would that be a pass? A fail? I don't know.

But… If a teenaged intern actually beat off a group of thieves… It wouldn't be strange for the company chairman to pay them a visit. Right? I mean, he knows who I am, but this isn't going to stay a secret, even if they are plants. And even if he doesn't, they'd have to give me the internship, right? And I should be able to beat them.

And it's not like I'm actually in danger. I could-.

I don't jerk my head up, but I can just about hear the burst sound as the roof access door is blown open. The guard on this floor looks up as well, hands going to his gun.

"The fuck..?"

"What was that?"

"I guess we're not the only ones who know that security's down."

"What now?"

"Depends who they are. There's nothing really valuable here, and if we make a fight of it then people are gunna hear it. Guard. Peak. You hear that?"

"Uh, yeah. You see anything?"

"Cameras are going down. Looks like… Two-. Three people."

"Guns?"

"I-. Maybe."

"So, we're pulling out?"

"Head down to us. I'll try and get a better idea of what they're doing."

"And the kids?"

"If we don't kill them, it's not our problem."

"Great. I thought they were a liability anyway."

I hear his footsteps as he heads for the elevator, and-.

And running steps coming down the stairwell.

"Ah, shi-."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
10:02 EST

Different types of gun make different noises.

There's the bang of an explosive-projectile weapon as the propellant detonates, then the whoosh of expelled gas and the tink of expelled brass. The electrical hum of a railgun's charged capacitor, buzz of air turning to plasma and crack of the broken sound barrier. Lasers are quiet, but they still make a quiet sizzle as they incinerate airborne particles.

Plasma fizzes.

The guard ducks back and pulses of plasma hit the ground behind where he was standing. Three shots, precisely aimed. He looks down at the ground where the carpet is smouldering, and I've give up pretending not to look. I need to know what's happening and he's really distracted right now.

Then he scrabbles backwards as beams of plasma experimentally punch through the thin interior wall near where he was standing, his gun coming up and pointing towards the door.

Okay, there are a lot of different types of plasma and I don't know them well enough to tell them apart by sight or sound. That might stun if it hits-. The shot to the floor didn't set it on fire or punch through, which means it's probably not all that energetic. Containment's good, though, and I know there's a sort of high-pressure low-temperature plasma stream some places use in mining…

"They got guns! Laser guns!"

I suddenly picture Paul and Robin rolling their eyes.

"Can you get out?"

"Fuck, ah… Maybe?" He angles away from the wall, deeper into the room. Those plasma weapons would go through the office furniture easily, but it's concealment and… Maybe it's psychological? "This place have an outside fire escape?"

"No, but there's a second stairwell on the-."

I hear a bang as the door at the opposite end of the floor is kicked open. It's not in this room, so the guard guy might not have heard it, but whoever's shooting at him now has a guy who isn't caught in a choke point.

What's going on?

Setting off robots was pretty easy for LexCorp. They had pretty much perfect control of them the whole time. Getting… One? Of their security guys and some local criminals to raid one of their own offices? A bit less control, but still fairly controlled. Paul was pretty sure that control is a big thing for Lex Luthor.

But where does the second team come into it?

Is this an actual robbery, but the LexCorp Security guards were a whole lot closer than they thought? I know LexCorp has some pretty good power armour but I don't think it goes that fast. And if they had power armour they'd have either stormed in or hit him through the wall. No, it looks like S.W.A.T. gear rather than anything extra special.

Or maybe the first team are the LexCorp guys and the second team is something else? Or… They're both genuine? Two LexCorp teams sounds a bit too disorderly for LexCorp, but, maybe?

"Three guys on the stairs and-." The guard glances in the direction of the guy trying to flank him. I guess he heard something. "-one other-!"

The flanker puts a plasma shot through the door, another near miss. Guard ducks down and scrabbles back towards-. Towards me and Janet. He's still got his gun, but I guess he doesn't think it's worth taking a shot without a clear view of his target.

But if they herd him this way-.

Another S.W.A.T. guy enters from the door nearest the stairwell, sweeping the room with the barrel of his gun. Over his eyes-. Just a visor. No thermal imaging or anything like that.

Okay, if I can't tell who's a real criminal and who's acting, I should just-. Maybe if-.

Stairwell guy gets a clear line of sight and takes aim-.

I close my left eye and squint. Angelika said it's possible to change the wave length of heat vision, and I can see the magnetic containment vessel inside the plasma gun. I haven't really practiced this much but…

A ray of what I hope is infrared light melts a hole in the meeting room window, hits the interior of the plasma gun's barrel and melts a hole in it.

I immediately close my eye and try relaxing my eye muscles. That felt… Weird, but the plasma gun should-. Well, if it explodes then-.

I hear it chime, and the guy carrying in stows it and draws a handgun.

Ah, it had a safety mechanism. That means that I can-.

The guard opens the door, scrambles inside and then slams it shut before rolling to the side. My eyes are still closed, and from the sound of it he isn't going to spend much time looking at me.

"Two on me, don't know where the other two went."

"They look like LexCorp?"

"Didn't see a name badge!"

His heart rate is faster, but he's no where near panicking. Ah. Okay, open my left eye a little-. Both of the… Guys from Group Two are hanging back to deny the guard a good angle. He's only got a handgun, so unless he gets real lucky their armour should be able to take that. So either they don't know what he's carrying, or their armor is… Fake? No, decent armor is easier to get than plasma guns-.

Wait. That's Justifier armour. They just changed the helmet! So they're not professionals, they're just-.

Squint real hard and… Fire. And there's the chime.

"You too, huh?"

The voice sounds male. Nothing else about it really stands out. I mean, Justifiers don't sound like that, but nothing else.

"What we get for buying from that asshole. What do we do about their hostages?"

"They work for LexCorp."

"Fair. Breach the room?"

"Pretty sure I can shoot them from here, actual-"

Open eye a little, squint and fire a short burst.

Using heat vision on a regular gun… It work pretty well, but it's really obvious and… You can mess up the person holding the gun if you're not really careful. If it's a revolver you can usually heat the grip without cooking off the bullets, but if it's got a magazine then you can't. It's not a matter of control; the conduction of the metal is just too efficient. And there's no clever detection system if you warp the barrel. Superman and Angelika both said that they'd had people get injured because the gun they melted a little misfired.

Plus, rays of heat don't just appear. A plasma gun overheating because it wasn't properly maintained, that's believable. A regular gun? That's not. So…

Distraction.

I make a sleeping yawn noise, then act like I'm trying to get up before stumbling to my knees. One of the guys outside raises his gun and fires at where I'd be if I stood up, but I'm already on all fours and… Trying to do a convincing drunk-crawl towards the wall next to the door. The guard guy stares at me for a moment, so I give him a drunken smile before getting back to my crawling.

Okay, stare forwards. The door doesn't block my vision, so I can see the two guys outside approaching the other side of the door.

Let's see if I can do drunken kung fu without being drunk or knowing kung fu.

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
10:05 EST

The first guy approaches the side of the door furthest from the hinges, so I can't just open it in his face. The second guy hangs back a bit, so he can shoot into the doorway if the door opens suddenly. Second guy counts down with his fingers as the first guy nods. I get my legs under me for-.

Zero. First guy wrenches the door open and then gets both hands back on his gun, but I'm up and barrelling forwards with a theatrical stumble, slapping the gun out of his grip in a way that I hope looks natural. Then I smile like the drunk women on the one Dionysia I went to, grabbing the armour of the guy I just disarmed and pulling him into the line of sight of his colleague.

"Heyyyyyy!"

I pull him into a hug, leaning on him like the drunk I'm pretending to be. Keep smiling, keep up the dazed expression.

"Y' muh… Muh best friend..!"

I'm taller, but I'm leaning enough that his body shields me completely. My left arm around his back pins his right upper arm against his body and his gun's on the floor.

"What do-?"

"Get him off, I don't have a shot!"

He tries to push me off with his left hand, but I raise my right and act like I'm trying to high-five him. It blocks his swing and lets me drop my hand onto his shoulder and pull!

We both fall back towards the dividing wall, and I use a little flight to slam the side of his head into the brickwork. No Justifier helmet means that his skull takes the full force of the impact, stunning him.

"Ste-? Ah, Four? You okay?"

Ste..? Steve? Sterling? I can't get a great view of his face with x-ray vision. There are to many different textures and degrees of translucency across his head.

"I fell over!"

"Shit. One, Three. Four's K.O.."

"Did he fall over?"

"Drunk kid pulled him over and slammed his face into a wall. By accident. They're lying on the ground-."

"I-. Okay. Did you get the courier?"

"No, not yet. I'm keeping an eye, but-. Fuck, he was just there, I didn't get-."

"Don't get distracted. Are they moving?"

"Four's moving a bit. The kid is just kind of laying there."

"Shoot the kid, shoot the courier, and… I dunno, put Four in the recovery position or something."

"He's kind of between Four and the wall, there isn't really-."

"He's falling down drunk. Move, get a shot, then take it."

"Right."

I watch through… 'Four's' body as Three gets closer, gun pointing in my direction. A pistol that calibre… Probably wouldn't penetrate the body lying on top of me. Definitely not with two layers of body armour in the way. I glance back and see what the courier is doing. He's come up to a crouch with his gun at the ready, preparing to charge Three down while he's focused on me. I need to stop him doing that, but the cameras aren't reporting and if I knock Three out first…

Three cautiously comes around to the left side, but still can't get a clear shot. He could probably shoot me, but it wouldn't be a killing shot and if they assumed that their plasma guns would be their main guns then they might not have reloads. Those pistols can be deadly, but they don't have all that much stopping power. Even if he shoots the courier, they could just power through and-.

Three gets closer, gun aiming at where my head will be once he moves around Four. Closer. Closer-.

I twist, hooking my left leg around his calf and pulling, making him fall onto his back.

"Ugh!"

"Heeeeeey. You fell down." I lift Four off me as I push myself up, and then drop him onto Three just as he starts to recover. "You two should… Get some sleep."

I stomp forwards, 'accidentally' stepping on his gun hand and forcing-

"Aow!"

-him to let go before 'slipping' on it and kicking it across the room. And… Ah, that's great! Falling back onto Three and elbow dropping onto his forehead.

"Uuh."

And they're.. both unconscious. Great.

"The..? Fuck..?"

The guard walks out of the meeting room, gun in his right hand. But his grip isn't strong, it's just sort of hanging as he stares at the Three and Four and then at me.

"Heeeeeey!" I smile broadly and do a circular wave with my right hand. "How's the..? Packages?"

"H-ey." He looks me over, then slides his gun into his pocket. "Did you-?"

"I'm-. I am… Like, so… Out of it… Right now. Heh. Hey. One time? One of my Mom's friends gave me this.. wine, right? But I didn't know it was fortified, so I just downed it… Kinda like this."

I let my face fall and my gaze grow distant.

"I don't think I was supposed to drink anything today. Mom got real mad last time."

"Right. Ah. Okay, so… Why don't you..? Go back in the meeting room with you friend and sleep it off. I'll go get you a glass of water."

"You are so great!" I stagger towards the door, and he awkwardly moves aside. "Can you-? Like, not tell my Mom?"

"Sure, dude." He looks around the room, probably wondering if there are more people in Justifier armour around. "I-."

This time I actually use my powers, hitting him in the back of the head hard enough to knock him out in the brief moment when he's looking away. I catch him before he hits the ground.

Huh. Paul was right. There really is an art to knocking people out with head trauma. I'm glad Conner set up all those lessons for me now.

Now what?

Janet's still unconscious. The guard guy will leave her alone if he wakes up, but the other two will kill her. He'll kill the other two, and they'll kill him. So…

I walk around and pick up all three handguns. Then I head over to the closest window, open it and throw the magazines outside. That should be safe. And then I drop the guns on the floor, because I'm not going to use them. The plasma guns won't fire unless someone does a lot of work on them, so I can leave them where they are. Then… Check the bodies-. Ah, unconscious people. If I can find some handcuffs or zip ties-.

No such luck.

Okay, where could I get something to restrain someone in an office? I mean, I could find some metal and bend it, but that makes it obvious that I've got super strength. Don't… I.T. use zip ties for tying up cables? So if I can find that, I can tie them up in different places, and… Find out where the rest of them went. The main computer room is-.

Bang!

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 28th, 2013
10:09 EST

From the sounds of things, the couriers are fighting the guys from the roof. More bullets follow, though the rate of fire isn't high. They're taking care and aiming their shots. The return fire is much less disciplined, but I guess they've got the bigger magazine-. Ah, gas canister? Either that or they've got some sort of air-to-plasma conversion system. Those are pretty energy intensive, but-.

I dash over and check first the gun I partially melted, and then the belt of one of the gunmen.

Ah. Doesn't look anything special, and they don't have a spare fuel cell. So they don't have unlimited ammunition. I don't know what they were thinking.

Cable ties.

I stamp my right foot, trying to hear echoes-. Okay, that's a cupboard, but all the doors have card readers. I try-. No, the visiting future intern doesn't get any access he doesn't need. That's… Good security, except it clearly doesn't stop the people who broke in and does stop the one guy trying to help.

I hurry back to Janet, who's still unconscious, and pull her lanyard over her head. I wonder why the courier people didn't take it? I… Guess she doesn't have access to wherever they wanted to get to either. Okay, cupboard, fingers crossed… A vacuum cleaner and some cleaning supplies, great. How about-. Ah, good! Some shelves with light bulbs and stuff, and one half-empty pack of cable ties. Okay, these aren't as strong as the ones meant to restrain people, but if I use a bunch of them…

And link them together when they're not long enough… Arms together, legs together, arms and legs together… I don't have anything I can really block their mouths with, not unless I want to risk them choking. But if I put them in different parts of the room then even if they wake up, they would have to squirm across the floor to get to each other, and it would still be pretty hard to get free with their hands tied up like that.

Alright, now-

"Agh!"

-what? I've heard more shots, but that's the first time I've heard one of them definitely hit the target. I need to get down there but I'm still supposed to be out of it. Maybe I can claim one of the gods made me immune? Or that I was faking?

No. People's lives are more important than my secret identity, even if they are thieves and would-be murderers. I can work something out. Still listening to try and work out where they've gone, I head out into the corridor and towards the stairs.

"…cut off. What do these guys even want?"

"Don't know, don't care. Looks like there's only three of them, so we should be able to outmanoeuvre them."

"Fuck off. Plasma guns? It's bugging out time."

"Relax. The program's still working. If we keep moving through the building and they keep following, we can double back and pick it up before we leave."

Okay, if… They're there, then…

I turn left, trying to work out how to flank them. I could fly, but if they see me… Concussion isn't a reliable way of removing a mem-.

I get a whiff of-. Burned flesh and blood. The kryptonian sense of smell is better than what humans have, but I don't really get a sense of direction. Try listening for… Moans? And… I stop jogging and sniff again, turning my head as I try to work out-.

"Uh-uuuugh…"

I head back to the stairs and hurry down. I could jump down, but that would make a big noise unless I flew, and… They're hacking the system. Even if the A.I. isn't seeing anything, they could have connected to the internal cameras themselves. It-.

Sniff, sniff.

Okay, through here. And-. Yeah, there are burns and bullet holes on the walls, and-. I guess whoever got shot ducked into a side room or something? I'm close enough that I should be able to hear their breathing.

Which way which w-?

Got it. Round to the right, scan Janet's card and into the… Slightly different office with a big computer monitor, then go to the office bathroom. Slow breathing suggests that he's nearly lost consciousness and won't be able to fight, but a normal human in my position would still need to be careful.

I push open the door slowly, but this door isn't blocking my vision. The man is slumped on the floor in front of the sinks. Looks like he was trying to.. clean the wound. His eyes come up but there's no strength in his arms to raise his gun.

"Uhhh…"

No one else around. I dash forwards and check the wound-. Oh. Looks like one of the plasma bolts hit him at an angle. It's burned through his overalls on the right side like it skimmed him, and the flesh underneath is red and black. And that's a really bad sign, because the heat from the bolt transferred into his torso. His lung might have been cooked, and if it had been the other side and gotten his heart then he'd be dead. As it is, he's probably got internal bleeding, he'll struggle to breathe and then there's the risk of infection… That rib is going to be cooked. Any weight on it and it could just snap, but… I don't know if it can be fixed anyway.

"Hey, buddy. Your phone got an external line?"

"Uhhh…"

Yeah. I carefully pat him down, but I don't find anything. I guess if you're picking a fight with an A.I. you don't really want to be carrying electronics. Okay then. With burns… I don't have any actual burn-.

I dash back into the office and look around-. Wall-mounted green case next to the fire extinguisher! I grab it and tear it open-. Burn dressing. It's not intended for plasma but it's the best idea I've got. I head back into the bathroom and tear the material of his overalls away from the site of the wound. There's… Some burned material stuck to the wound, but I can't get that off without making it worse.

"I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt."

I check the instructions, then pull the wrapping off the bandage, open it out and put it on the wound-

"Uhhh​…"

"Sorry." Okay, that looks about right. I haven't ever put one of these on an actual person, so-.

So there's someone coming up behind me. They've just opened the door to the office. Their heartbeat sounds nervous but not scared; just the sort of thing a person would feel-.

I glance back.

The sort of thing a guy would feel getting into a dangerous situation he thought he could handle.

"So this is the best I can do." I can't put him in the recovery position without risking exacerbating his injury so that's out. Binding his arms creates the same problem. I can bind his legs-.

The guy behind me is heading to the bathroom door. I get up and fly just off the ground until I'm in one of the stalls. I use my flight ability to hold my weight while resting my feet on the rim of the bowl. Okay, that won't help if he actually looks into the stall, but if he's just checking the from the door-.

The door opens. I turn in that direction and use x-ray vision. Huh. Short guy, and the face mask is interfering with my vision. No gun, just a metal staff. Are three groups breaking in today? That's ridiculous.

"You clearly brought that upon yourself, though I suppose I should credit you for dealing with your own wounds rather than wasting… Ah. But you didn't. That was torn with two hands."

Oh. A smart guy.

"Whoever you are, I mean you no harm. This man didn't deserve it, but you did him a good turn anyway. It speaks well of your character. I would like to confirm that you are in good health, but if you don't want to risk my good will, I understand. This visage is not one that lends confidence."

I.. guess I should risk it? If a superhero's here in costume, then I should leave it to them unless they're totally over their head. I 'jump' off the bowl and step out.

"Ah, hey."

Huh. Didn't Paul warn me about this guy?