With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
17:52 GMT

I stroll into the garage, the owner just giving me a glance and then ignoring me.

"Good evening, Seth."

"Paul." The car has had its wheels removed, and parts of the panelling have been removed to grant easier access to the mechanisms I think of as the 'worky bits'. Vulcan's legs are sticking out of the door, while his head and shoulders remain firmly within. "Not sure I've got much for you yet."

I nod.

"Do you think it's worth bringing your brother in?"

"He might have something useful to say, but I've got to be honest here: something like this… Hm."

I look around, and while Mr. Zencha isn't paying us a lot of attention, he isn't deaf. I take a noise cancelling field generator out of subspace and activate it.

"Good idea." Vulcan shuffles himself out a little, coming upright with his feet hanging out of the car door. "I'm not an expert on this sort of primal…" He spots Earl Dukeston and regards him curiously. "Magic."

"Not a natural event?"

"Not natural and I'm almost certain that it wasn't directed. Not by a magician, anyway. Who is this?"

"Oh, I'm.. sorry. Vulcan, this is Earl Dukeston the Second. He's an AI with a highly adaptive robotic body whose mind is based on the mind of his predecessor, Earl Dukeston the First."

Earl raises his right hand in greeting.

"Howdy, Vulcan."

"Welcome kindly, Mister Dukeston."

"But it could be a god?"

"A god, a titan, or something… Different. I read something a while ago about the possibility of human technology developing its own intelligence-."

I shake my head. "If you're talking about some sort of emergent noosphere entity, that only applies to electromagnetic energy. We might make our own Kilg%re, but this car still wouldn't be vulnerable to it. And neither would isolated robots with no external control system. And… And frankly, I'm sceptical as to whether it's possible at all, other than in the normal ways an artificial intelligence could be created."

"One ah you fellahs wanna fill a guy in?"

"The term 'noosphere' refers to the sum total of telecommunications in a given area. Since the contents of communications impact one another, in… Very theoretically, a conscious mind could emerge from one once a civilisation reaches a certain point."

"The internet could start thinking?"

"One unusually intelligent indexing program is all it would take. In theory."

"Boy howdy! Glad I said 'no' to that upgrade. I don't even wanna imagine what kinda twisted mind would crawl outta that place."

"It probably wouldn't be that bad. It wouldn't have any reason to assign the same value to the information that we do. But-. As I said, it's unlikely that's what we're looking for. If it's a god, is it..? New?"

"I looked through the list you sent me. It feels random, but that's just a feeling and not a god-given domain-related intuition. If someone was getting a feeling for their new powers, I can't see why they'd do it like this. And given how powerful the god would have become, there'd be wizards with blood pouring out of their eyes all over the place from the power backlash."

"A new god? How would that work?"

"If Heph got Athena pregnant, their domains are close enough that their offspring could become the God of Technology. Maybe." He smiles saucily. "But if something like that was happening, I'm pretty sure we'd have heard about it."

"Are there any other gods in a position to try something like that? I imagine that there are a few chief gods who'd be prepared to lose their seats if it meant their pantheon coming to that level of prominence."

"The only gods who actually plan things like that are the Shinto gods. But they've been working from the bottom up. A god of all technology?" He shakes his head. "Where would they find one?"

"Don't they have gods of related concepts they could persuade to have a child together?"

"It isn't impossible, but that hasn't been the direction they've been moving in." He shakes his head. "You'd have to ask one of them. I'm not close with any of them."

"I'll add it to the slate. What are the other alternatives?"

"A new god born directly from the Dream. Perhaps an entire pantheon. I'm too young to have ever seen it happening before, so I can't describe what it looked like last time."

"Did any of the older members of your pantheon ever talk about it?"

"Of their own births? Their first awkward, foundering steps into the magic realms of the Earth?" He looks amused by the idea. "No, never. You could try asking Hades if you want to compare the two, but Earth was a very different place back then."

"What would a god want?"

"Worshippers, a cult, recognition, and a reasonable reassurance that it's going to keep getting those things in the future. Assuming that it's a single god. With a whole pantheon it could be anything." He makes an amused exhalation. "Though I don't imagine they're going to want someone like me sticking around."

Hm. If I remember my Warhammer 40,000 correctly…

"What happens in the run up to a god being born? Or… However it works?"

"If they're born as the child of an existing god, not a lot. If they emerge directly from the Dream…" He shakes his head. "I don't know. I've never seen it, and I don't understand the magic involved well enough to work it out. What we're seeing might fit, but I can't swear to it."

"And if it was a titan?"

His gaze grows a little distant. "Once, when he was really drunk, Jupiter talked about what that was like. Mortals and gods alike being driven insane by the ideas forced into their sleeping minds. The whole of the world's magic being thrown off balance until it finds a new equilibrium." His attention returns to me. "That's one of the reasons why they didn't kill the titans who survived the war; they're literally propping up what's left. I'd… Guess, that if a new titan was emerging from the depth of the Dream -a Titan of Technology- it would be similar to how it would be for a god, only far more severe. The nature of magic on Earth would change."

I nod.

"That's easier to check. I'll just need to ask magicians if their abilities have been off recently."

He nods back. "I'd like to think that we'd notice in advance. But maybe this is us noticing."

Okay, so talk to Hades, talk to… The Tower of Fate has a window onto the Dream. So John's probably the best person to ask about that aspect of things.

"On an unrelated note, Mister Dukeston has a problem."

He nods. "Apparently, ah'm a soulless bag of bolts and you're the fellah who can fix that."

Vulcan shrugs. "I could build something…" He frowns. "If a god's awakening..." His frown deepens as he studies Mr. Dukeston. "I could build something that would draw magic from the world around you. I've studied Paul enough that I could create something like the network he has. But if a God of Machines is waking up… I might be able to use that magic to create something… More you."

"I gotta decide right away?"

"No. This business is more important, perhaps for the whole world." He shakes his head. "I can't even be certain what your choice would mean for you."

"Then this seems like something ah should really sleep on."

"As you will."

"Thank you, Vulcan. You've been very helpful. I'll keep you up to date on what I discover."

"And I, you. Thank you for bringing this to me. It's been a while since I've… Engaged with the world like this."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
13:02 GMT -5

I float through the glowing barrier and knock on the door of the Tower of Fate.

At the request of the Salem Tourist Board, John agreed to leave the Tower in 'manifested' mode most of the time. The Tower's outer surface, anyway. The majority of its mass is still extruded into the Earthsphere with the rest poking into the Dream proper. At this point the approximate location of the Tower's earthly anchor point is common knowledge and John said that he missed interacting with people. A few cameras are raised at my appearance, but sightings of me aren't that unusual and these people are mostly here to look at the strange non-Euclidean structure of the Tower itself.

"Yes?"

Mr. Nelson's voice. John's left the butler spell running, though now that I know what I'm looking at it's obvious that it's sub-sophont. No desires or other emotions at all. I assume that he's modified it according to his own requirements, but I haven't actually asked.

"Orange Lantern to see Lord Fate. Is he available?"

"I'm afraid that he's indisposed at the moment. Can I take a message?"

"I'm investigating the possible emergence of a God of Technology, and I'd like to coordinate with him."

"One moment."

I can just about feel it as the presence of the butler vanishes to report to John. Huh. I'm not actually sure what John does on a day to day basis. His secret identity doesn't have regular employment so he's not working regular hours. I know that Dr. Balewa keeps himself busy checking up on every site of mystical significance on the planet, but I don't-.

The door opens, the spectral figure of Mr. Nelson beckoning me inside.

"The Master will speak to you now."

I walk inside, looking around the entrance of the Tower. It's abandoned the medieval tower aesthetic totally, swapping in a foyer such as I would expect to find in an upmarket hotel. The front desk is abandoned and… No computers? Something from the middle of the previous century? It would fit with the aesthetic of the elevator.

"Please take the lift up to the library. He's waiting for you."

"Thank you."

I walk over to the closest elevator and press the 'call' button. The spectral image of Mr. Nelson vanishes, reappearing behind the desk and taking on a somewhat vacant look. Seems a bit… Odd, but I suppose that John hardly needs its assistance if there's nothing much going on.

I step inside the elevator and press the button for the library. The doors close and then there's a moment of dislocation as the Tower changes the elevator's entry point before opening the doors again. Certainly more efficient than actually having a lift shaft. I suppose that's the difference between 'follows the rules of the world' orderly and 'acts with greatest possible efficiency' orderly. I exit the elevator and walk through the towering bookshelves in the direction of John's work area.

He's busy studying the Orb of Nabu as I arrive, his eyes not leaving it for a moment. I just get a quick wave from his right hand as an acknowledgement. He's dressed in the Fate uniform minus the Helmet, which is sitting on a nearby desk.

"I'm looking for an unborn God of Technology. Any ideas?"

"That's not news."

I come closer, frowning.

"It is to me. And to the people whose machines are acting up."

"Earth is a thaumically active world that uses mechanical engineering en masse instead of sorcery." His hands move, his gaze still locked on the Orb. "Something like this was inevitable. Doctor Mist and I have been trying to come up with a plan for how to handle it."

"What have you got?"

"What we've got is that we shouldn't have to deal with this for another decade at least. Consciousnesses don't emerge from the Dream quickly. Usually."

"It's not Dream himself, is it? Because I really don't want to try picking a fight with one of the Endless."

"No, they don't care enough to do something like this. We're mildly interesting at best."

That statement doesn't entirely gel with what I remember from Sandman, but I suppose that it wasn't focused on what the Endless got up to on other planets. For all I know the bit we're shown is a trivial side note to their actual focus.

"This god has been forming since the invention of the internal combustion engine at the very least. It had a setback when humans shifted away from purely mechanical technology and towards electronic, but it managed to adapt to that a while ago. And now it's stirring."

"And that's what we're seeing?"

"Yes. Something's making parts of it act like it's awake when it's not. And I can't tell who and I can't tell why and that's a big problem."

"What's the worst-case scenario?"

He stops moving completely for a moment.

"The worst case-? Probably something like 'Darkseid gets control of everything more complex than a spring everywhere in the universe'. I don't think that's what's happening here, but I can't think of anything worse off the top of my head."

"Alright, what's the worst-case reasonably-probable scenario?"

"An evil magician is trying to use the god's power to destroy civilisation. Which is just as bad for us, but less bad for the rest of the universe. Whoever it is, I haven't been able to find them yet."

"Surely that narrows it down? There can't be that many people you can't overpower."

"I'm not a Lord of Order or a Lord of Chaos. I just stole their equipment. There are ancient magicians who never come to public attention who can hide themselves from me, if they're careful."

"So… Do we need to get hold of John Constantine?"

"We could, except I don't know where he is. And he definitely has the skill and power to keep me from finding him."

I frown.

"You don't think it's him, do you? I.. don't think-."

"No. No. John Constantine would only lash out against people he had a grudge against. This is going to affect the whole world."

"Okay. But we're sure this is a new god emerging from the Dream?"

"As opposed to what?"

"A titan."

He looks away from the orb and stares at me, blinking only very slowly. Slowly, he breathes in and out.

"Yes. And thank you for that heart attack."

"So what can I do that's useful?"

He returns his attention to the Orb.

"I could use a map of whatever incidents you can find. I can't afford to leave here right now."

I nod. "Okay, can do. Would intentionally using this nascent god's power for something hurt or help?"

"I'm not sure. If that's the sort of thing you want to do, let me know in advance. Either way, I might be able to learn something."

 

[Mr Zoat]

28th August 2010
12:03GMT -2

I wave the ring, undoing in an instant the damage Black Manta and Company made when they broke into the Poseidonis Science Center and stole...

"I'm sorry, Minister Vulko, what exactly did they take?"

He looks up from where he's discussing something with another researcher.

"They didn't take anything. Black Manta attempted to steal an ancient creature frozen in arctic ice, but when Kaldur'ahm and Garth stopped him all he could do was destroy it."

"When you say 'ancient', how old do you mean?"

"It's hard to say. Before the Sinking, certainly. As I hope you can appreciate, we have excellent records of aquatic life in the Atlantic Ocean after that."

"So… Was it an aquatic dinosaur?"

"Almost certainly not. It appeared to be some form of echinoderm, but I'm afraid that we weren't able to really begin our analysis before the attack."

"Like a sea urchin?"

"More like a giant star fish."

My environmental shield wavers. DC, giant starfish. That says Starro to me, though… I suppose that there might be other giant starfish around the place. I was never an expert on extinct aquatic species.

"Roughly how big?"

"Roughly… Eight metres, arm tip to arm tip?"

"And it was completely destroyed?"

"No, not completely. A small amount of tissue was left over." He sighs as he swims upwards towards me to carry on our conversation. "We're sending it to the surface. King Orin feels that S.T.A.R. labs are better situated to contain samples in the face of criminal attack." He looks at my face, then gives me a mild frown. "Is there a problem?"

Explaining what I think it could be might risk someone questioning how I-.

Oh, of course. The Green Lantern Corps must have records of Starro. Even if the local Green Lanterns haven't ever bothered looking it up. And while Jordan and Stewart regularly talk to each other, neither of them talk to Gardner if they can possibly help it. I've talked to all three of them, and unlike me they don't have perfect recall. They also don't know that I have perfect recall. If questioned I can just say 'I think you mentioned it one time', and if, say, Jordan says that he doesn't remember I can just shrug and say it might have been Gardner. He won't be sure that it wasn't him and he certainly won't contact Gardner to check.

"It… Might be nothing, but I've been training with Green Lantern Two Eight One Four A, and… He mentioned a species of giant alien starfish. It might not be the same species, but it… Might be worth checking."

"I hardly think it's likely that an alien starfish made its way to Earth. We didn't find any wreckage or remains that could have been a ship…"

"The species in question flew in space using massively strong telekinetic fields. I don't know how familiar you are with the phenomenon..?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all. The genetics that give rise to that class of mental abilities don't occur in Atlanteans. I think it may be something to do with the alterations made to us to adapt us to sub aquatic life. Or it might be that our forebears simply didn't have the genes. Since magic can serve virtually the same purpose there wouldn't have been any evolutionary incentive for the trait to arise. But these starfish could fly through interstellar space?"

I shrug. "I haven't seen it myself, but that was my understanding."

"Fascinating. I wonder if they're artificial, or-. No, no, that's not important. Are they dangerous?"

"They can mind control the populations of entire planets, so yes. Do you still have the remaining tissue here?"

"I… No. It's on its way to America. But it's almost certainly dead."

"Right, but are all of the others?"

"Others?"

"They usually send millions of little ones. I don't know exactly how their life cycle works." I look around the room. "So it was… Here, right?"

"Yes?"

"Ring, scan for genetic material in detail."

"Compliance."

Thick waves of orange light radiate outwards, repeatedly flowing over every surface.

"Eliminate samples from Atlanteans and known sea creatures."

"Compliance."

"And forward the rest to Lantern Two Eight One Four A and ask him to call me back once he's checked them against the Green Lantern Corps' database."

"Compliance."

"So were there any other starfish where you found this one?"

"The… Excavation is still ongoing."

"And… What happens if Black Manta goes there?"

"Go there-?" His eyes widen. "They have.. guards…"

I blink.

"More guards than the city of Poseidonis? Also, are those guards sufficiently skilled at defensive magic to prevent an alien starfish taking control of their minds?"

Also: what? Yes, S.T.A.R. labs usually have good security, but this is the capital city of Atlantis. Even with distraction attacks… That's like Pokolistan sending a commando team to raid the Natural History Museum and just flying away. On the surface they'd have to get past radar and sonar. Ships and aircraft would be redirected to intercept exactly like they are when the Russians decide to try it on. How the heck did Manta get into position to do this?

"No. No, you.. definitely have a point. I will suggest that King Orin-."

The ring blinks.

"Excuse me. Answer."

Jordan's concerned-looking face appears.

"Don't touch it and don't go near it. Where are you?"

"Poseidonis. The Atlanteans dug it out from…" I look at Vulko. "Somewhere?"

"The northern polar ice. It's an alien, then?"

"Where is it now?"

"What's left of it after Black Manta hit it with a missile is heading for S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham. Might I respectfully suggest incinerating it, sir?"

"There's no need to suggest the completely obvious. I'm heading to Gotham now. Isolate wherever you found it. I'll clear that up next. Green Lantern out."

His face vanishes, and I nod. That seems like an entirely proportional response to me. But I don't know why Black Manta is able to get in and out of Atlantean territory-.

Oh. Heh. Okay, yes, that would make more sense. Of course, it doesn't really help when I have a power ring that can track someone anywhere on the planet.

"You don't have a blood sample from Black Manta, do you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
19:15 GMT

'lE˥5 ˥Ħ1H'

I frown at the clock radio.

"Have you tried answering it?"

Gemma Masters shakes her head. "Uncle John always said that if anything tried talking to me I should get rid of it and phone him right away."

"Get rid of it then phone him, or phone him and get rid of it if reasonably practical?"

She's staring at the clock. "Yeah, that one. What is it?"

I can feel it as her father stares at the back of my head. I was allowed in because Zauriel has officially okayed me, but Anthony Masters is one of many people who aren't at all happy about the fact that magic use is working its way into the mainstream. It's not even an Anglican thing, really. The High Church strand of Anglican thought has pretty much accepted the Catholic outlook on magic, and that's the trend that's currently dominant in the Church of England. But the Archbishop of Canterbury is stuck moderating the increasingly vacuous-. Vicious arguments between that portion of the Anglican Communion and the Evangelical wing which really doesn't.

"How long have you had this clock?"

"Six years. So it's not a century spirit."

"Those-. That's not exactly how it works."

She glances at me, rolling her eyes.

"I know."

"But you're right. It hasn't developed an arcane presence on its own. Something's acting through it, and-."

"Then we'll burn it." Mr. Masters walks around me and reaches out to-.

"Please don't do that."

He stops, but he looks even less happy. "What? Burning will get rid of whatever it is, won't it?"

"It will stop it communicating through the clock, yes, but it won't deal with the thing that's doing the communicating. And this clock isn't the only thing that's behaving like this."

"But it won't be behaving like this here anymore."

"Based on the evidence I've accumulated so far, it can manifest through any technological device. Do you have any power tools in the house? Or a vacuum cleaner?"

He sags slightly. To be fair to the man, his exposure to magic started with John Constantine and ended with the Sheeda. And the bit in the middle wasn't much fun either. Irritating as I personally find him and his, he's a basically decent man in over his head, which is a problem because given the state of the world today there's no way for him to pull his head out. The world now is very different to what it was not all that long ago. Whatever… Masquerade there was has been thoroughly destroyed.

Keeping your head down doesn't really work if you're inside the blast radius. And married to a Constantine.

"So what do we do?"

I take a rune stone out of my pouch and hold it out. A weak resonance. That could just be from the spell being used to connect the foetal god to the device. Or it could be imbued into the device itself. The only way to check without an actual magician would be to drain it and see if it kept going.

I've got plenty of sites for John Quinn to triangulate. I just had my rings monitor social media for people reporting odd events, then paid a visit if it seemed to be on brand. But none of the devices so far affected have attempted two-way communication. That could just be a matter of luck, but it could also be a sign that events are progressing towards something. Or that the god is waking up.

A clock radio doesn't have a microphone, but I can make the speakers vibrate easily enough. The question is, is it advantageous to do so?

"Have these.. things hurt anyone?"

"One man hospitalised for observation after he had a panic attack. No injuries directly inflicted. So far."

I plug orange filaments into the clock radio and generate a microphone construct, handing it to Gemma.

"It's your radio."

She looks decidedly pleased as she takes the microphone, drawing herself up slightly before putting it to her lips.

"This is Gemma. Who am I talking to?"

'HE110 CE∩∩∩∩Ħ'

"It's talking to me! It's talking to me!"

'˥HE ˥1∩∩E 15'

Gemma frowns. "What's it doing?"

'19:17'

The numbers remain on the screen.

"What?"

"It's your clock radio. It's telling you the time."

"W-? Yeah, but-? What?"

I tilt my head back, closing my eyes for a moment.

"Clocks tell their owner the time. So that's what it's doing. It got your attention and told you the time."

"But-. I thought…"

She sounds severely disappointed.

"Magic-based lifeforms don't work like organic ones. You can't assume that text indicates a human-equivalent mind any more than it does when a parrot talks."

"But how did it know my name?"

"Has your name ever been used within reach of its speakers? Or… Did you fill in a warranty?"

"I took it-." She huffs, then picks it up and turns it over. 'GEMMA' is written in indelible ink on the bottom. "I took it to Sharon's house for a sleepover."

"Oh thank God."

Mr. Masters takes his crucifix in his right hand and closes his eyes for a moment. Gemma puts the clock radio down again-.

'lE˥5 ˥Ħ1H'

"Let me guess. It's seven eighteen."

'∩0'

"What, then?"

'19:17'

Gemma rolls her eyes. "Thanks."

She starts to hand it to me-.

'1 H∩0UU UUHEĦE J0H∩ 15'

She immediately lifts the clock radio up to her face.

"Where Uncle John is? Where?!"

'C0∩∩E F1∩0 ∩∩E'

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
19:21 GMT

Mrs. Masters frowns.

"Is he missing? I just thought he'd wandered off again."

"I.. don't know how often he's usually in contact with you-."

"If we're lucky, we get a phone call at Christmas. What happened to him?"

"When I last saw him, he'd just gained a huge amount of raw magic power and was working on getting it under control. And since he told me not to get in contact with him, I was leaving him to it."

She sighs the long-suffering sigh of someone all too often involved in John-adjacent shenanigans.

"Our John wants keeping an eye on."

"Strangely, he's been involved in less arcane chicanery in the year after than he was in the year before. But I understand what you mean."

"Terry's ready to start pulling his hair out. And of course Gemma wants to get right to it."

"I believe John thinks there's a curse on the Constantine line, to be fascinated with magic. I suspect that it's more to do with the adrenal glands. Or it could be the fact that magic is just that interesting." I shrug. "I've got no guarantees for you, but she'll be wearing a personal force field and a ward, and I'll be with her every step of the way." I frown. "Actually…"

I raise my left hand.

"Orange Lantern to Kara."

My ring shimmers for a moment, then a phone construct appears.

"Hey Paul."

"Are you free right now? I've got a lead and I could do with some more muscle."

"Don't you have an entire Lantern Corps for that? And a fleet? And a Justice League?"

"I don't want the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet involved in case whatever's doing this can affect their armour and weapons. And the same for the Lanterns; I'm unusually protected but they're not. Your abilities are part of your biology. And yes, I could ask the team for help, but do you really think you're going to get anything useful out of Ted while he's got this to play with?"

I hear a quiet sigh.

"No. He's already given the robots name badges."

"Did it have a measurable effect on their performance?"

…

"I hate living on a planet where that's a sensible question. … Not as far as I can tell."

"I'm not expecting anything to happen; this is just to put Missus Masters' mind at ease."

"Do I have to wear a costume?"

"Not if you don't want to. Actually, low visibility would probably be better."

"Okay, I'll tell Ted. Give me twenty seconds."

I frown. Given her maximum speed and the distance involved…

"How?"

"Ted's on Cadbury's Gate network. Twenty seconds."

"See you then." I shut off the construct. "That should cover it."

"Who was that?"

"Kara Zor-El. One of the Supergirls." I shake my head. "It's not my intention to put Gemma in danger. So far, none of what's happened has put human life in danger. I don't know exactly what the talkative radio wants, but Gemma will just be there so that whoever it is puts in an appearance."

"What if I say 'no'?"

"I'll understand, and try and resolve the problem some other way. And because Gemma is a Constantine and you can't watch her every moment of the day-."

"She'll bloody sneak out, won't she?"

"That would be my guess."

"John was the same. What if-?" The doorbell rings, and she walks toward it. "What if me or Terry come along?"

"Then we'd have an extra civilian to protect, and a potential aggressor would have an extra target. To reiterate, I'm not expecting any threat, but if it turns out there is one I'd rather not have to worry about two people."

"No, I suppose-" She opens the door. "-you wouldn't."

She turns to greet Kara, who's smiling broadly. "Hey. I'm Kara Zor-El."

Mrs Masters takes in her blouse and neatly pressed trousers. "Supergirl?"

Kara's eyes drift over to me for a moment. "Only when I have to be. Are we ready to go?"

Gemma hurries down the stairs, clock radio in a shoulder bag, her father watching on disapprovingly from the first floor.

"We off, then?"

Missus Masters embraces her daughter, kissing her on the top of her head. "Be careful, Gemma."

"Don't worry, Mum. Unlike Uncle John, I've got superheroes looking after me."

Missus Masters turns as Gemma walks over to Kara-

"You're not wearing an 'S'."

-and looks at me.

"I didn't feel a force field."

I nod. "Gemma, hold still a moment."

She's wearing a.. coat that looks a little like John's trench coat. Heh. I add a kinetic belt -with the flight system slaved to my ring- and an armoured vest. A ward appears on a thong around her neck.

She looks down at it. "Does this make me a superhero?"

"No, it makes you an escort mission."

Her face creases up.

"But those are rubbish!"

"One, I grew up playing Lemmings, which is basically one big escort mission. Two, you said it, not me."

She gives me a mild glare.

"So where does the clock radio want us to go?"

"Where else? London."

"Then off to London we go."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
19:32 GMT

Kara shakes her head. "I can't see anything out of the ordinary either. Not that I spend a lot of time staring at breakfast cereal factories."

I feel so cut off from my roots. I honestly have no idea if 'Weetiebrix' is an off-brand Weetabix, its parallel universe replacement, or something completely different. The factory looks like it's in reasonably good condition… I don't know anything about breakfast cereal production. Hasn't really come up until now. Is it strange that there's a site in London still in production? A quick ring search says 'slightly, but not significantly', and a check on the company's finances doesn't show any significant irregularities.

Anything odd about this place? Any-.

Oh. That makes a painful amount of sense.

This is where Richard Simpson died. They found the charred remains of his body in the building's control room one morning, John Constantine having got in and out without troubling either the security guards or the security cameras. No one had any idea how it happened. The coroner's report had an open verdict as no one could really believe that an electrical surge could do that much damage to him without leaving any other sign.

And since relocating to Hell, he's been into demonic technology.

…

Guess I can tell Lord Fate he can take the rest of the day off. Now I've just got to arm-twist Mr. Simpson into telling me what he's playing at.

"Gemma, did John ever talk to you about Richard Simpson?"

She thinks for a moment. "Richie Simpson?" I nod. "I think he mentioned him. I don't remember what he said. Why?"

"I think that's who we're going to meet."

She frowns. "Isn't he dead?"

"Sort of. He wasn't in his body when it died and then he downloaded his consciousness into a demon lord's avatar. I've met him and he seemed reasonably rational. No idea what he wants with you, though."

She strides forward towards the building. "Only one way to find out."

"That's not exactly true."

She glances back at me like I'm an idiot. "That's what you say."

"When it's true. Otherwise it doesn't make any sense."

She shakes her head and walks faster.

"Kara, if he just wants to negotiate or something, I'll handle it. If this is some sort of ambush, grab Gemma and fall back."

"I thought you said you knew him?"

"Yes, but we're not friends or allies. And as far as I can tell, gaining power is what demons are most interested in. Depending on how assimilated he's become, violence is very much on the cards."

"Alright, I'll keep watch. Be careful."

"Thank you, but I'm in the wrong job for 'careful'."

I fly towards the building, picking Gemma up and unlocking-. The magnetic lock on the door is already inactive. I open the door and fly us both in. The room where Mr. Simpson died has been entirely rewired when they redid the factory's IT systems-. The cameras aren't recording us, the alarms aren't sounding and the internal card-reader operated doors aren't requiring a card.

Someone was definitely waiting for us.

I stop just outside the offices containing the control centre.

"What does the clock say?"

She pulls it out of her back and shows me.

'C0∩∩E C105ER'

"He sounds creepy."

"He's a demon technology fetishist. Unless you're secretly a gynoid, you should be safe."

"Gywhat?"

"Synthetic device patterned in the likeness of a woman. A girl robot."

"Oh. Okay." She looks into the offices. "So I just go in there?"

"I'll hang back, and jump in the moment anything happens. You've got your ward, so I'll have plenty of time."

"You know… You don't have to jump right in. He's going to be happier talking to me, isn't he? I mean, he's not going to see me as a threat."

"While true, I don't intend to risk you when I'm fairly confident that I can compel him to talk."

"Won't he just know you're here? He's got control of the cameras, right?"

I shrug. "Then he knows. But my warding tattoos make me invisible to magic, even if there's a camera involved."

She takes this in.

"Can I get tattoos like that?"

"Certainly. Just as soon as you have your eighteenth birthday, or-."

"That's-!"

"OR." She looks at me with very low expectations. "Get your father's permission."

She sullens, sighs teenagerly, then trudges towards the control room.

Hm. Alright. Mr. Simpson is -or rather was- an expert on electronic mysticism. But he's been in hell for a few years and IT is a fast moving area. I don't remember him having anything to do with Rosacarnis in the comics despite him possessing the father she hated. Here they're nominal allies, but how much access to up-to-date technology does he actually have? I mean, his demonic machinery looked modern enough…

"Alright clock, I'm here. What is it?"

She propped the door open, good. I don't want to scan because those can be detected, but I can use empathic vision to keep an eye on the room she's in.

"Plug you in? Why?"

She's saying it loud for my benefit. Good girl.

"Ah, okay? But how's that going to help… Fine."

You can't plug a clock radio into a computer. But you can plug it into a wall socket next to a plug from a computer, and use sympathetic resonance to link the two. So he wants access to the computer in the place where he died. I don't think that's enough for a summoning, not for a demon of his raw power. And he can't possess Gemma unless she does something silly and voluntarily vacates her body.

"And put what on my head? I don't think so. Where's Uncle John?"

"Paul?" Kara sounds concerned. "There are people moving towards the factory outside."

"That's fine. The more resources he commits, the better."

"Hey there, Gemma. I'm-."

"Richie Simpson. You died here. What do you want?"

"Oh. You, actually."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
19:36 GMT

"Yeah. Sorry about this. Nothing personal, but I'm in the middle of something important and I don't want John getting involved. So I'm going to stick you somewhere out of the way and feed him clues about where you are until I'm finished."

The ring shows me… I'm not sure that they're cultists, but the colour-associations seem to-. Yes. Looks like Richard answered an arcane plea for help during the Sheeda invasion and they're happy to pay him back by working for him rather than something more extreme. When you owe a debt to a demon, you're lucky if they don't just drag you into Hell because they got bored.

"But I don't know where Uncle John is. He disappeared."

"Then look at this as a holiday."

"Okay, I'm leaving. Weirdo."

"Don't you want to know where he is?"

"You just told me that you don't know."

"That's true. I don't. But if I tell enough people that I've taken you, he'll hear about it. And then he'll come to get you, and we'll both know where he is."

"Or he won't, because he's not listening."

"Okay. What do you want?"

"What do you mean, 'what do I want'?"

"I don't want to make this any harder than it needs to be. And I don't want to hurt you. Or… I mean, I wouldn't exactly be broken up about it, but I'm not aiming to hurt John. I just want him distracted. Once I'm finished, you'll both be free to go. So what do you want, that'll make you go along with it?"

…

"What have you got?"

Because she wouldn't be a Constantine if that sort of offer wasn't near-irresistible.

"I'm Overlord of The Odium. A whole circle of Hell does what I tell it to. Magic? Knowledge? Technology? Whatever I've got, in exchange for you disappearing for a week or two."

"You're a demon."

"I'm... Currently a demon, yes. But I used to be a man. And demons might be nastier, but they're also a lot more honest."

"Honest. Really."

"I know, it doesn't sound very likely. But demons are actually pretty rule-abiding. If we make a pact, I'll have to stick to it."

"Or what?"

"I just have to. It's built in. Hasn't John told you about this?"

"… No."

"Really? This is basic stuff. Why did you think demons bother with pacts in the first place?"

"Same reason why cats play with birds they've caught. What are you trying to do, anyway?"

"I don't-. … If you agree to be bound so you can't tell John, I'll tell you."

"If you're such a powerful demon, how come you're so worried about Uncle John?"

"Because he's a Lord of Order and a Lord of Chaos! I'd love to try and work out how he did it, but if there's anything I've learned in Hell it's that there are things and people you don't mess around with if you can avoid it. And he's both."

"Both? How's that work?"

"I'm happy to explain it to you. If-."

"If I agree to help you."

"It's not as if you'll be doing anything. Just keeping out of the way for a few days."

"And you won't hurt Uncle John?"

"I don't really think I could. But sure. I won't try to hurt him."

"Or tell other people to?"

"You're a sharp one, aren't you? Not that I'd have tried anything serious, but if John's really angry I'd still like to be able to, you know, throw a minion or two at him to keep him away from me. And it's not really fair to them if I tell them they can't hurt him."

"Is Uncle John really that-?"

The door behind me opens as the first cultist strolls in.

"…handle a-."

He sees me, his eyes widen, then his body locks up as a filament usurps control of his peripheral nervous system. And march him out of the way. I'm assuming that Richard is monitoring them by magic, but my tattoos should still prevent him from seeing me. If Gemma has his full attention then he shouldn't immediately notice that his minions are distracted.

"Gary? What-?"

A filament each for each of the other three, who will soon be facing Attempted Kidnapping charges with their ropes and chloroform as evidence. In case Richard is monitoring them I slowly puppet-walk them towards the control room. The rest of the cultists appear to be spreading out throughout the building, covering doors and other likely escape routes.

"I… Suppose that… Sounds fair."

"Great! Pick your finger and bleed a little on the screen, and we'll have a pact."

"If it's just my blood, how is that supposed to bind you?"

"Because I'm using my magic. My consciousness is magic-based. Demons only have blood when they're supporting their material avatars with sympathetic magic."

"I don't believe you."

"Okay. This is..." I hear him sigh. "What guarantee do you want?"

"I want you here in person."

"That doesn't-. I don't work like that. I've got a distributed consciousness. If-."

"I don't believe you."

"And this is it? If I come to you and we bind our agreement with our blood, you'll accept it?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay. Cabinet on the right. Get a few multi-sockets out, plug them into each other to create a circle and then put in on the floor."

"Okay?"

"Then put the clock radio down in the middle and take a few steps back."

"Okay."

"And then give me a minute because this is a right mind-bender."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
19:41 GMT

"And I'm back."

I can see Richard Simpson's aura. He's clearly got some arcane defences, but between rushing this summoning, being an innately arcane being and dealing with a young girl they're nothing like as powerful as he'd need to stop me snooping.

"Huh. You don't look very demony."

"I only put that on for the other demons. I'd much rather look human."

"Why's that?"

"How you look affects how people think about you. And how you think about yourself. If a demon looks big and scary not only do people get scared of it, but the demon thinks of itself as something that's scary to others. And that it's supposed to be scary. I'm not any weaker because I look like this than I am when I look like pink lightning that's on fire, but other demons assume that I don't have what it takes to win in Hell."

"So it's a pose?"

"Everything's a pose. What changes is how much it matters. Look."

I hear a rustle.

"Here. Everything we agreed. And, there, my demonic-magic-pretending-to-be-human-blood. Now if you just-."

"I'm going to read it first."

"Heh-hah. You've got a lot more sense than John, I'll give you that. More sense than me, to tell the truth."

"What d'you mean by that?"

"That's how I died, isn't it? John asked me to take a look at a fundamentalist Christian group called the Resurrection Crusade. I didn't spot the wards around their server and it burned my body to death while my mind was outside of it."

"My dad used to be part of that. But then Uncle John happened."

Okay, he's physically present. I'm not going to get a better chance than this.

"Yeah, he does that. Are any of them left?"

I burrow filaments into the floor, poised to shoot upwards to grab whatever's available.

"I think they've still got a few people in America who are part of it."

"I'll have to pay them a visit. You finished yet?"

"Yeah. I think we're finished."

I fly, bulldozing the intervening walls and office furniture as my filaments leap up and attach themselves to the poorly prepared magic circle and subvert it.

"Mister Simpson."

"Shit!"

He drops-

Subverted.

-into the ground up to his knees before coming to an abrupt halt.

"Shit!"

"Mister Simpson, you have a simple choice."

"Ah…" He gives up on pulling his legs out. "Shit."

"You can explain to me what's happening of your own free will, or-"

"Do you-?"

"-you can explain to me what's happening of your own free will after I warp your mind to suit my desires."

"Hey! What the hell is this? I haven't hurt anyone!"

"Apart from the time when you attacked the Justice League's headquarters."

"Yeah, but-. I thought we were square! I helped you fight the Host!"

"And I'm grateful for that, but protecting the Earth from people who intend it harm is part of my job and I've heard enough to convince me that you're involved in the spontaneous machine animation that's been happening lately. And I would appreciate an explanation."

I frown.

"Also: language. You're not in Hell at the moment."

"I know! I'm trying to leave!"

"You're the ruler of a circle of Hell, and after Neron and Satanus vanished you don't have anyone over you. You've got all the resources you could want, legions of assistants and more arcane lore than most people could read in a lifetime. Why do you want to leave?"

"Because it's Hell, you ffff-. Idiot! It's full of demons! I don't want to be there!"

"You're not there now. I don't particularly mind you hanging around. We can just blame Satanus for-."

"It's not that simple!" He waves his right fist for emphasis. "If there's a gap in the hierarchy someone will fill it. And the first thing they do will be to make sure that I won't ever come back. And then it's back down to the bottom of the hierarchy, surrounded by people who want to make sure I stay there. Did you see how they treat the weak-spirited in Hell?"

"'Rendering'?"

Gemma squints at me. "What's rendering?"

"That's where they break down souls for parts, which are still slightly aware, suffering horribly with no hope of respite."

"… Oh. That sounds…" She looks from me to him and back again. "Can we let him off?"

"I'm not really clear what we'd arrest Mister Simpson for anyway. But I do need to hear a full explanation for why the God of Technology is waking up early."

"That was my escape plan!"

"You become its high priest or… Father? And the other demons don't dare bother you?"

"No!" He gurns. "No. I was trying to study it. Look, I used magic to transfer my consciousness into the internet before I even became a demon. I'm planning-."

"To.. transfer yourself into the foetal god..?" I frown. "Is that possible?"

"I think so. It's basically an unformatted data storage device, right? It's not near enough to the surface… To the world, to get specific experience. So if it's got any personality, it comes from its nature. The only things stopping someone from interfacing with it is its raw power and how it's not fully connected to the world yet."

"And you fixed that."

He nods.

"Borrowed a few cultists from demons who owed me favours." He looks mildly puzzled. "Should be.. here…"

He makes eye contact with me.

"Oh, right."

"John Quinn couldn't detect it."

"They're passive and warded. Not easy to detect. I'm a bit surprised he couldn't work around it, but not everyone is as cunning as Constantine. I don't mind trying to work out how to dampen the side effects. If I get some help-."

"Plan 'Richard Simpson Becomes a God' is firmly off the table. Ring, contact the Justice League."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July 2012
14:58 GMT -5

"Is this really necessary?"

Mr. Simpson is bound in current generation suppression chains, and since he's maintaining his human-seeming appearance it does look a bit like overkill.

"Yes."

John Quinn is in full Dr. Fate regalia, something which still gets a twitch out of me when I see it.

Angelica nods.

"You are a demon lord and an accomplished magician. You will stay in the chains until we have determined what to do with you."

Angelica on the other hand is wearing a business suit, but that's probably because she was doing a normal working day before getting called in. With Satanus out of the picture and his cultists in prison on a variety of charges, she's… Not Bruce Wayne rich, but certainly comfortable.

"Though, naturally, the more helpful you are, the more likely we are to reach an agreement that suits you as well."

"I already told you where all the ritual sites are. I'll take you to the ones in cyberspace if you want, just… Please don't let them take me back."

Dr. Balewa is simply dressed as is his wont, but he's in full Dr. Mist mode and my eyes are having a little difficulty in focusing properly on his physical body. It's like his flesh is… Simplified, while his body paint stands out more and is more… More alive. His outline wavers slightly as his body returns to normal, and he nods.

"It is as he says. It will take several days to render them inert, but it is well within our abilities."

"And what will the practical effects of that be?"

Dr. Balewa closes his eyes as he considers.

"It.. is.. hard to say. It may be thet we will find thet the God of Technology is now much closer to coming awake, but it may well be thet the forced exposure in fact pushes it further from the world. In either case, these manifestations should cease once the spells are dissolved."

"Until they start again." Angelica wing-shrugs. "All Richard's efforts achieved is to bring forward the point at which they start."

Dr. Balewa shakes his head. "I am not convinced. If the mind is not prepared, the shock of exposure would naturally be far worse."

"If it's a problem, I should be able to feed it to the Ophidian."

John's helmet jerks in my direction. "No."

Dr. Balewa nods, raising his right hand in a pacifying gesture. "Thet would.. not be wise. A god like this emerging into the world is traumatic enough without it being one with the concept of avarice. I will dive deeply into the Dream, and learn what I can of it. Then we can discuss the matter further."

Angelica nods. "Agreed. We'll need to brief the rest of the League as well. How we deal with emergent gods is a policy question."

"It seems more like a political decision rather than dealing with a threat or providing aid. Given the breadth of its influence, do you think it's worth referring the matter to the Security Council?"

Dr. Balewa waves his right hand. "Perhaps, when we have a better idea of what is happening and can… Eh…"

Angelica smiles. "Dumb it down for them."

"Explain it in terms they can understand without a lifetime of study."

Richard's face falls.

"Yes, I'm sure that's great, but how does it help me?"

"I know where your remains are. It shouldn't be hard for me to clone a copy of your body."

He frowns.

"I can't possess something without a soul."

"How about an android body? We already know how to incorporate thaumic elements into the design."

"If I'm just hiding, the wards would have to be really good."

Angelica frowns. "Why not just create a giant demonic robot and tell everyone that you're leaving it in charge while you pursue a scheme on Earth? It could take centuries before it occurs to anyone to question it."

"If it's clever enough to run things then it's clever enough to want to be in charge for real. And clever enough to find me."

"Then build one that's just clever enough to be a stalking horse. Anyone who wants to overthrow you will have to attack the obvious target first, which will give you plenty of warning."

"He can stay here." John gestures at the Tower's interior with his left hand. "The Tower is proof against demons, and it can keep an eye on him when I'm not here."

Mr. Simpson doesn't look thrilled at the prospect. "I do want to actually have a life."

"I have a workshop you can occupy. It's disconnected from the Earth, so I don't have to worry about you transferring yourself out."

"I think I prefer the robot option."

"If Orange Lantern wants to be your parole officer and monitor you all day every day, then he can build a robot body for you."

I look into Richard Simpson with empathic vision. He's a tricky one. He never went through Hell's inefficient conversion process. He's being honest about his motives, but… He's been in Hell on survival mode for a long time. I can't trust him not to do the demon thing of seeking power regardless of consequences.

"That's… Not practical. I go off-planet for extended periods, and you know how that messes magic up. How about just asking Mammon for help?"

"No no no no no." Richard shakes his head emphatically. "That's a terrible idea. He's had a downsizing obsession since the eighties! He'll have me broken up for parts! Or just broken up and stuck back together with the bits he doesn't like missing!"

Angelica nods. "He probably would."

"Alright, compromise. We build a basic robot body for you but you stay here. Doctor Fate serves as your parole officer. If he judges that granting you more freedom is worth the risk, if you make yourself useful, then you get more freedom."

"I don't understand why you're being so hostile. I died fighting a doomsday cult!"

Through the Helmet's eye holes I see John's eyes narrow.

"If you wanted forbearance then you shouldn't have attacked the Justice League. You're being given a chance because no one was seriously hurt."

And because the League isn't especially eager for the existence of the Watchtower to become common knowledge. For some reason. If it was me I'd probably find its existence reassuring.

Richard sighs. "I suppose it's better than Hell." He rattles his chains weakly. "Can you do something about this now?"

John holds out his right hand, a glowing golden ankh appearing in the air next to it. The binding chains vanish, appearing in a coil by my feet. A far simpler binding collar with an ankh decoration appears around Richard's neck. He takes hold of it with his right hand and tugs it up to look at it, then drops it with a shrug.

"I'll need to go back to Earth to build the robot. Do you want one that looks like you, or one that doesn't?"

"If I'm staying in here, it doesn't really matter."

I nod. "Alright, I'll get on with that. But while we're all here… No one's heard anything about what John Constantine's been doing with himself?"

Angelica and Dr. Balewa shake their heads.

"Huh. Okay. Could you please send out some feelers? I'm starting to get a little concerned."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th July 2012
14:31 GMT

"I appreciate the thought, Paul, but it just wouldn't work."

Hephaestus peers through his magnifying glasses at the contraption on his work bench, a thing that will eventually form the magic containment for Richard Simpson's android body. It's based on the design Thomas Morrow used for Danni and Red Tornado, but it needs to be able to handle demonic magic. The model the Morrow construct put together most decidedly wasn't.

"Why not?"

He leans back in his seat, his brow furrowing.

"Have you ever tried eating an entire roasted ox yourself in one sitting?"

"No?"

"Now, imagine that rather than eating it, you were trying to just slide it into your skull next to your brain. And then closed your skull right up again."

"You know, I do understand enough about thaumaturgy that you don't have to resort to nonsensical metaphors to explain these things to me."

He swivels the chair around to face me.

"Okay. A better metaphor would be to say that I'd dissolve. The God of Technology is colossal. If Doctor Fate says that it's a god and not a titan then I'll believe him, but it's going to be far more powerful than any god in our pantheon."

"'Our'?"

"The Greek pantheon doesn't exactly have a God of Avarice. When you finally do die, Hades might decide to kick you upstairs."

"I-. I don't think that's a good idea."

Hephaestus chuckles quietly. "When has that ever stopped us? You're looking at the man who dragged Aphrodite and Ares to Olympus in a net. I'm lame. Have you got any idea how far I had to drag them? Ares spent the first day cursing me, then just went to sleep until we got to the throne room."

He turns back to his work.

"'Rage is a hell of an anaesthetic'?"

"Stubbornness makes you ignore how stupid you're being."

"Zeus said 'no' to the divorce petition, then?"

"I think there was a 'no' somewhere in between all the guffaws. It was hard to tell."

"Sorry about that."

"I'm used to it."

"But at least Zeus is over his divorce, right?"

"Don't think you're off the hook, there. Zeus can bear a grudge like an immortal god with no day job to distract him."

"Ugh. Is there a way to pay him off? Or… I don't know, twelve things he urgently needs a demigod to take care of?"

"Not these days. Sorry."

"I'll just have to keep watching the skies, then. But going back to why you can't absorb the God of Technology..?"

"It would be like putting a single drop of ink in an ocean. What was left of me would be too broken apart to function as any kind of directing mind. And that's even assuming that I was compatible."

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"I'm the God of the Forge. Making things. I'm not the god of made things. Remember what happened when you showed me that ingot that got made by nanotech rather than a foundry?"

I nod. He could work it, but it was obviously taking a lot more concentration than a foundry-made ingot.

"Vulcan made the switch from volcanoes."

"This isn't something you can argue away, Paul. It's just how it works, mechanically. And honestly, I'm not sure I'd want it even if I could get it."

He picks up the diabolic responsometer and moves it around, searching for imperfections. He doesn't appear to find any.

"Okay, this is done. You okay making the rest?"

I nod. "I can make a non-combat model. If Richard wants something a bit heavier then he can negotiate with John."

He nods, passing it to me. I take it and stow it in my carry case.

"Vulcan? You about done?"

A fully exploded Earl Dukeston the Second is strapped to a series of custom gurneys as Vulcan inscribes the runes required to enable him to develop a metaphysique onto every component. It's a little disturbing how he's awake, aware, and watching with what appears to be genuine interest. It's hard to tell exactly how he feels, as his faux skin was an early casualty of the process.

"Just about."

"Ah'm a real boy, Pah?"

"I do mechanical engineering and magic. If you want a penis, talk to Paul."

"I can build you a penis, but I don't understand your programming well enough to integrate it into your mind."

"Ah don't have those kinda drives. Docs said it'd take a whole mess of hormones and suchlike they couldn't just program into my noggin. Sides, what would ah do with that kinda thing?"

"Whatever you want. That's the point. But your body, your peripheral choices. Vulcan, is Richard's fetish making it any easier?"

Not pausing in his work, Vulcan nods.

"I don't know what he was hoping to achieve with this, but he did good work. It almost seamlessly draws the God of Technology's magic from the Dream and integrates it into the world. Let him know I'm genuinely impressed."

"I will."

"With that, binding magic to Earl's frame and making it act like a normal soul is much easier. Have you shared it with the Atlanteans?"

"I haven't, but I'm sure that the League will."

"This could make integrating machinery and magic much easier."

"Ah'm going to have to talk to mah pastor about this magic stuff."

"Shouldn't you have done that before..?"

"Way ah saw it, whatever he thought of magic, he wasn't going to complain about me getting a soul."

"Do you feel any different?"

"Ah ain't exactly at mah best right this second. Maybe kinda… Twinkley? Ah don't really know what having a soul's supposed to feel like."

"Okay." Vulcan puts his soldering iron down and pulls a lever, unlocking the clamps holding Mr. Dukeston down. "That should do it."

Mr. Dukeston pulls himself together, concertining back into a single seat and looking himself over.

"No, still feel the same ole me. Guess a soul's something you grow into."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th July 2012
19:22 GMT

"…observation for now, though We have high hopes that Our niece will begin participating before the winter solstice."

I nod as Luna and I walk through the Canterlot Palace without a particular direction in mind. It gets me used to walking with four legs, and it's actually more comfortable than sitting or laying down.

"I thought that her talent was in the field of empathy?"

"She is an alicorn. Though she lacks Our natural intuition, she has the power to control the heavens if she applies herself to it, and both Sister and I agree that you are correct in your assertion that others must be trained to fulfil our roles. Twilight hath already progressed to actively working with Our Sister on the dawn… Though she struggles to rise at an appropriate hour."

I smile.

"Yeah, I heard about that."

"And I am sure that Sunset keeps you informed of her progress."

"I'm fully confident of Sunset's ability to master any spell that interests her, so I generally don't bother to ask her about that aspect of their time together. I just ask about how she feels about Celestia, and feed back to Celestia about what to do and.. not do."

Luna nods.

"We thought that We had heard less shouting of late."

"And what about the other little ponies?"

Luna shakes her head.

"None who are not alicorns could hope to bear the burden. Even Twilight, who before her ascension was the most powerful unicorn in Equestria, would not have been able to perform such a feat."

"So the thing about pre-Exodus unicorns performing the raising in groups is just a story?"

"We could not say. Having read your book on stellar dynamics, We have reached the view that it is not impossible that Discord is indeed to blame for the state of our geocentric system. From what Our archaeologists have discovered of those times, pony astronomy was not much advanced. T'would be natural for them to assume that the motion of the sun had it orbit around our firmament, while modern ponies would need to reach for an explanation of who moved the sun before Our Sister's ascension."

"What did Discord say?"

She wrinkles her nose as if bearing fragrant witness to a pile of dung.

"He ducked the question, then fled when We mentioned your name. Mayhap… You could consider…"

"I'm going to want to see a lot more evidence of reformation before I consider tolerating Discord."

"But you will consider it?"

"I will. Don't tell him. Just let me know if he makes any actual measurable progress." I frown. "Oh, and going back to Twilight's lessons, I think Celestia tried to prank me. Which is progress. I didn't think we had that sort of relationship."

"Our Sister does have a somewhat unique sense of humour. What did she do?"

"She said that she agreed with me about the whole 'single point of failure' argument, and wanted to know what I thought about training Twilight up for executive office as well as controlling the sun and moon."

"We do not see the prank. Twilight Sparkle is a highly capable young mare, and far better educated in such matters than either Our Sister or I were when we ascended to alicornhood."

"Last time Twilight got put in charge of the country she personally went looking for you in a forest full of magic resistant super vines, completely ignoring the actual running the country part. Look, how much administrative experience does Twilight have?"

"She has been instrumental in running several celebratory events in Ponyville."

I sigh.

"You do not consider that adequate?"

"Luna, you were 'running' a feudal nation of a few thousand ponies. Equestria is a lot bigger, more centralised and more complicated than that these days, and… Twilight's roles as librarian and arcane trouble shooter don't really lend themselves to allowing her to study all of the fields that she would have to master in order to run a country. And then there's the fact that… Neither her skills nor her personality really lend themselves to the role. And then there's the fact that she'd have to move back to Canterlot full time-."

"Perhaps we have decided to take your suggestion and move the capital."

"Ponyville isn't ready to become Equestria's capital. Even if you could turn Twilight's crystal palace into a centre of government, it doesn't have the population or infrastructure. If you wanted to put the capital somewhere else, it's… Basically just Manehattan that could serve in the role, and that's on the east coast. And even worse for taking Twilight away from her friends."

I close my eyes for a moment.

"So Celestia wasn't pranking me?"

"We hath not discussed it betwixt ourselves. We had thought that it would be a natural progression of Twilight's role, though We take your point concerning her character."

"Training Twilight so that she can handle things in the short term if the two of you get nobbled isn't a terrible idea, when anyone who does anything against you will get the pleasure of my company within a short span of time. But actually governing long term? I'm not so sure."

"What would be your suggestion?"

"How about actually developing a legislature? Most places in Equestria already elect their mayors rather than bowing to feudal lords. Ponies understand voting for their leaders."

"Excuse Us if we are surprised to hear the Alicorn of Conquest suggest sharing power."

"It's the only practical way to get things done. And I'm not Darkseid."

"Ah-. Your pardon, We did not-."

"No, it's-. It's fine." She looks at me and I smile. "But as far as I'm concerned, you have to involve people in their governance. Not everyone's going to care about everything that happens, but citizenship requires commitment to the institutions of the state you're a part of. If right, to keep them right, and if wrong, to set them right. Having an all-powerful goddess tyrant isn't the cause of the problems in the Equestrian state, but it's a contributory factor. Another is that Celestia's nearly good enough to pull it off."

"You say that Our Sister's mere adequacy is a problem?"

"Britain effectively switched from being a constitutional monarchy to a parliamentary democracy due to Queen Victoria just not doing her job for years on end. New customs and practices evolved to work around the absence of the ruler, creating a new system for running the country. The fact that Celestia's always there means that Equestria's never done that, never needed to work around her absence. And…" I stop walking and bow my head. "It appears that I can't get through even one date without turning it into a lecture on modern Equestrian politics."

"You lasted marginally longer this eve. What hath occurred on Earth of late?"

"Ancient wizard attacked my friend Cranius's home and killed some people. Everyone's on alert, but we're probably not going to find him before he lets us." I shake my head. "This really isn't setting the tone I was going for."

"We are both political figures of note. Tis no surprise that such matters are the subject of our discussions."

"Yes, but I got you a present, and I wanted… Something lighter. Maybe something cultural."

She looks me over.

"We do not see any gift."

"No it's not here. Mother Box."

"Ping!"

BOOM!

We stroll through the tube, emerging in a clearing just ahead of the Castle of the Two Sisters.

Luna blinks, staring at the entirely reconstructed fortress.

"Obviously I had no idea what the soft furnishings were like-."

Her tail flicks me in the nose as she prances forward, smiling excitedly. Then she charges for the drawbridge, and I gallop after-.

I get up and gallop after her.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Negetiations

2nd August 2012
09:00 GMT

"No, no, I like it."

I look up at the anatomy arena, as physicians, magicians, medically and theologically orientated Lanterns and a surprising number of Controllers look back.

"Very nineteenth century. And since that was when my country was at the peak of its relative power, I'm taking that as a good sign."

Hinon shakes her head.

"Please limit yourself to pertinent comments. Stand there."

Rather than nod or point, she merely looks at a point just a little back from the centre of the examination space. I shrug and stride over to my appointed place before turning back to her. I widen my stance and spread my arms a little.

"Like this?"

"Acceptable." She glances up at the audience for a moment before holding out her right hand and calling a small tool to her.

"Not a bad showing. How do you feel about the turnout?"

"If I recall correctly, don't your species wrap screens about crashed ground vehicles, in order to prevent others jamming your highways by ghoulishly staring at them?"

"No. Sometimes we just let people watch. We learn best from worked examples, and it's hard to get a better example than an actual wreck with actual mangled bodies in it."

"I'm sure that you're every bit as fascinating as a mangled piece of wreckage."

"High praise. But really. I know that you're ancient, but I'm reasonably well informed on Guardian history and I don't think you've had this sort of following amongst the younger races ever. The Controllers separated before they started up the Halla. Isn't this a novel experience for you?"

"I have personally created more species than are represented here. And many of them I created intentionally."

"Nothing?"

"As much as anything else."

"You want to swap places after this, see if I can fix that? It can't be a pleasant way to live."

"The day I trust an infant like you to 'fix' my psyche is the day I let you. It will not be swift in coming."

I smile. "Are you doing this? I didn't think you were a magician."

"Do you just not pay attention when I say how old I am? I don't habitually use magic because taking advantage of the etheric ripples created by beings younger and weaker than me is wasteful."

"So-?"

The three Lanterns who will be serving as her assistants enter. Lantern Natu I recognise at once. I raise my right hand in greeting, but she remains almost aggressively impassive. I've rather been avoiding her since she caved to common sense and picked up the ring I left with her, but I suppose the chance to study me was more than she could pass up.

The other two I don't immediately recognise, though I do recognise Lantern… Nax's? Species. Vagabond Dominator knock-offs, the Naidroth Collective are a minor but persistent nuisance across this galaxy, unnecessarily vivisecting people for data they could just as easily get by asking for a data file at a local hospital. I've firmly categorised them as 'Stupid Evil', though by Dungeons and Dragons definitions I suppose that they'd be 'Unwise Evil'. And the other fellow is…

Lantern Hieronymous the Under-Achiever. That's… That's actually the name on his file.

"I did recruit a number of wizards whose surnames aren't 'under-achiever'."

"No need to worry about that, Lord Illustres!" He's smiling too much for someone that far gone into the orange light. "My problem was always one of motivation!" I can see the sigils in his eyes. I'm… Genuinely surprised that he's functional. "And with the orange light driving me on, there's no stopping me!"

Oh. It… Looks like actually being able to do something useful is such a novel experience for him that even in what should be full megalomaniacal mode he's actually fairly placid.

"Okay, so where do you want to start?"

Lantern Natu nods. "Please remove your ring and your clothes."

"As you wish."

My robes vanish into subspace, followed by my underwear. My ring I float over to Controller Hinon. She looks at it for a moment, then sends it over to her equipment rack with a wave of her left hand.

"Okay, so what's ne-?"

My point of view jumps forward, and a humanoid-. That's the back of my head. There's also a non-trivial amount of pain, but that's far more manageable. Empathic vision is still working…

"This is strange."

Lantern Nax blinks at me.

"Are you not in pain?"

"A bit. What's happening?"

"I have physically separated your different body tissues so that we may more easily study them."

"Um. How?"

"My parents called it psychic vivisection. I'm not exactly sure how it works. I have never done it to anyone who didn't immediately start screaming in agony."

"It hurts, but I wouldn't say that it's scream-worthy. Then again, I suspect that I'm not an entirely physical intelligence any more."

I try moving, but my perspective doesn't change. I can however see my arm moving in front of me. So I assume that I'm floating off the ground, and… My tissues have been separated?

"We shall study how that works in detail. Lantern Natu?"

"The subject is an adult humanoid male of the human species, thirty one years of age. Currently occupying his third body after the first was destroyed by magic-using Source-worshippers-"

"And sword-using."

"-and the second was destroyed in a qwa-matter explosion."

I look up-. And wave up at Lantern Gozzi.

"The subject has used his ring to turn each body into a facsimile of his original, which he considered to be 'ideal'. Here, we will compare the structures of his body to his original and study the effect of intense orange light exposure on neurological structures. Please hold any questions until the end."

Oh joy.

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd August 2012
10:24 GMT +3

"…back to the point we've been circling around since the Sheeda first appeared." Minister for National Defence Lukas Frangopoulos bangs a wad of papers against the cabinet table in barely suppressed frustration. "We just can't afford any of this. And we're not going to be able to afford it."

I nod thoughtfully. It's been a while since I've been a cabinet minister, but with the previous office holder dead and the Sheeda running rampant across the Earth -and the global economy barely existing in any significant fashion- the Prime Minister recalled me to duty. I've made a point of looking a little older, just in case someone takes too close a look at one of the pictures decorating the walls from last time I held the office of Finance Minister. My return had a slight stabilising effect as a result of public confidence, but there are still limits to what I can do with so little to work with.

Our sources of foreign revenue are tourists and agricultural exports. Tourists… Tourism itself barely exists any longer. Mercifully, the Sheeda didn't appear to have any interest in sites of historical significance so… Perhaps, in the fullness of time, things might recover.

"We simply cannot afford the sort of super weapon research program that the Americans, Russians and Chinese can. We can't buy enough of their end products to make a difference. We can't hire any of the handful of individuals on the planet who could take up the burden of our defence. We can -slowly- rebuild our conventional forces, but at the moment the strongest military force in Greece is the Congregation's volunteers."

"And Luthor's… Offer…" Frangopoulos shakes his head. "It's not even worth considering."

The Prime Minister looks impassive.

"His suits worked. We all saw them kill Sheeda invaders. And the dogs could bite through steel."

Frangopoulos shakes his head again.

"His power armour is combat effective for an hour at a time, requires highly specialised and expensive maintenance and it would leave us completely dependent on him for our defence. And the dogs have no supernatural abilities beyond their strength. They cannot fly, or find enemies hidden by magic." He looks around the room. "You have all had the same intelligence briefings that I have. That is not a man I would trust with my wallet, let alone the lives of everyone in Greece."

The Prime Minister nods. "Professor Prokopios? Do you have anything?"

I nod. "Nothing that will simply fix our problem, I am afraid. I have been in contact with the Orange Lantern." Hm. "Some time ago he purchased a British chocolate manufacturer, and has been improving their distribution network with Dolmen Gates. They are a type of magic portal; put something in one and they come out of another. His company are expanding their network in an effort to stimulate global trade, and I persuaded him to ensure that we were included."

On the face of it, globalisation was entirely rational. Resources are extracted from where they are most readily available and transported to where they can best be used. Wars disrupt that, but unless your country was directly involved they could be worked around. And even if your country was directly involved, it was generally possible to see an attack coming and make appropriate preparations. The days of soldiers manning the ramparts because an unfamiliar sail was seen on the horizon are long past.

And then the Sheeda attacked with little warning, and the whole brittle system came tumbling down. I hadn't properly accounted for the possibility of an attack of this sort. And now… We're a net exporter of foodstuffs. We aren't in danger of going hungry as people in some places are, but supplies of certain types of non-essential products are going to become rare. Price inflation is going to become a problem.

"The practical upshot will be that it will become marginally easier for us to import and export at least a small volume of material. We will have to arrange-" I nod to the Minister for Foreign Affairs. "-the appropriate legislation and protocols for a small border inside our country, and of course someone will have to talk to the Archbishop of Athens about us accepting the public use of a magic artefact-."

The Prime Minister nods, waving his right hand.

"Don't worry about that. They don't use demons or spirits of any kind. If it gets trade flowing again, we need it."

I nod noncommittally. It's been a worry of mine for a while, but… "I am well aware that I am the only person at this table who did not swear his oath of office on a bible. And I am aware that people are understandably sensitive at this time."

"I'll talk to the Archbishop."

I nod, this time with more confidence. The Orthodox churches are less open minded about magic than the Catholic Church is, but generally more so than the Evangelical Protestants. So long as it is a purely mechanistic use of magic the Archbishop will probably accept it.

"Otherwise, there is little for me to add. My Ministry's loan scheme for areas of proven economic demand but no local supply continues to be over-subscribed. We will never be entirely self-sufficient, but I believe that the shortages will ease within two years. On the matter of defence… I do have an idea, though I am not sure how palatable it will be."

Frangopoulos shrugs. "We may as well hear it."

"Themyscira was not troubled at all by the Sheeda. They-."

The Minister for Shipping and Island Policy shakes her head.

"The Old Gods might be prepared to bless a small island, but they will never do that to all of Greece. Unless you're suggesting that we abandon Christian-. You're a Hellenist."

I nod.

"Something like that. But that was not what I meant. I am aware that they have recently improved their ability to produce enchanted weapons; not to an industrial scale, but far more than they once had. As you are aware, their hoplite armour is proof against automatic weapon fire, and their swords can cut through sheet metal. And that is just their normal soldiers."

Frangopoulos frowns. "You're not talking about Wonder Woma-. They have more like her?"

"Not quite like her, but they have other demi-goddesses. Why do you think-" I point to a framed photograph on the wall behind him, prompting half the cabinet to look around. "-that the statue of Herakles was covered during Queen Hippolyta's last state visit?"

"Because she thought it was a bad likeness?"

"No, because he raped her and at least a hundred other Amazons, which is why they left the mainland in the first place. We were fortunate in that she did not appear to know what the hoarding concealed." It's a little surprising that they didn't know that, though I suppose the Amazons don't generally like to talk about it. "He has many daughters on Themyscira today. And there are a few others who claim descent from other gods. Since Themyscira is opening itself to the outside world, it may be that they would listen favourably to a request from the Greek government."

The Prime Minister nods. "Amazon super soldiers."

"They can have more than human abilities in a number of fields, but strength, agility and speed are common ones. They also have instinctive low level magic abilities, inherited from their… Ah, Olympian forebears."

"Will they work for us?"

"It is my understanding that Amazons are increasingly willing to leave their island. America has been a more popular destination than Greece, but I imagine that if we make an offer that at least some will accept."

"And what will Queen Hippolyta want in return? I don't think that we.. want to offer her a throne."

Now there's a thought. Of course, the position of king was ceremonial for a long time before finally being abolished, but it would be interesting to see Hippolyta in command of a modern nation.

"I doubt that she will ask for much. A few small islands or a recognition of their territorial waters. Though if that is unpalatable, there is another option."

"Yes?"

"Demigods are the children of the gods. There is a young girl in America who is the daughter of Zeus, and a dryad has taken the Amazon Rainforest as her domain. If-."

The Minister of the Interior frowns. "If we whore out Greek women to the demon gods of a dead religion, they may give birth to demon children."

"Or men. The children of goddesses are just as powerful as the children of gods. It would cost a little more than hiring Amazons, but the resulting children would be Greek citizens familiar with the modern world."

"If you think-!"

"No." The Prime Minister shakes his head. "I will speak with Queen Hippolyta, but Greece is not in the business of… Eugenics. Do you have anything else to bring to our attention."

I shake my head. "No."

"Then onto the next item on the agenda."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th August 2012
15:13 GMT

I sag slightly as Lantern Natu walks into the waiting room.

"What more is there?"

Lantern Natu shakes her head. "No. We're finished with you. I just thought that you might be interested in the results."

"Yes, of course I am. I-." I frown. "Does this make you my doctor?"

"I'm a chirurgical specialist. General practice isn't my field. If you want a personal doctor, the Darkstars have a medical corps. Your personal medical information can be passed along to anyone you authorise."

"Alright then. So what am I?"

"As you've probably realised-" She generates a wire frame construct which appears to be describing something dimensionally exotic-. Oh, that's me. "-your core self is increasingly immaterial. Though not to the degree that an actual god's avatar is; you do still need a body to live."

"So if I die in deep space without a handy cloned body around?"

"You can't maintain your consciousness without a medium any more than I can. But you're more.. organised. If you cloned a body for anyone else in that situation, nothing would happen. You just need a little orange light, and your consciousness decompresses on its own."

"So we're cloning me."

She nods.

"That seems like a logical precaution. I can't order you to do that, but not everyone thinks as quickly as Lantern Gozzi."

"How complete would the clone have to be?"

"You only need a brain to sustain your consciousness, the same as the rest of us. You'd probably need a few moments to adapt, but you could use a ring to transmute a new body. You wouldn't have any sensory input, and that's been shown to have adverse psychological consequences in most humanoid species… Though not among individuals who have achieved enlightenment. Not that we know for certain that it doesn't, there just aren't enough examples to draw a conclusion."

"And if I don't have a ring then I'd be stuck."

She nods. "I'd recommend including eyes at the very least."

"Would cybernetics work?"

"I'm… Not sure how you were planning to sustain a living brain without cybernetics, but… Yes?"

"No, I mean, integrated. One of the reasons that I've been shy about using cybernetics is that I've been assuming that my ring would destroy them as they weren't part of my self-concept."

"You'll need to talk to a psychologist about that. But I can't see why connecting things from outside of the brain would disrupt your resurrection."

"So I'd need my whole brain."

She frowns.

"I don't understand why that's hard to accept."

"Oh, no, it isn't. I'm just worried what happens if the Reach get hold of one of my spares." She nods in understanding. "Our ships are tough, not invulnerable. I'm resigned to them getting a sample of my genetic material eventually, but I'd rather that they didn't get a copy of my thoughts or memories."

"The brain needs to be genetically yours. It doesn't need to have your memories encoded on it."

"Ah. No problem then, I suppose. Anything else?"

"Your body isn't quite identical each time you've restored yourself. I'm currently working on the assumption that it's due to changes in your self-concept, but I'm not telepathic."

"Just as long as I'm not changing into Larfleeze."

"There's no need to worry about that. Each version of you has been genetically and physiologically human. I assume that you haven't been tempted to try genetic modification either?"

"No, same issue as cybernetics."

"I've seen genetic modification go wrong far more often then cybernetic implantation. Given how good you are at manipulating things with your ring, you could probably avoid most of them. But I recommend avoiding it unless you really need it."

"You..? Do you have problems with that yourself?"

Her faces takes on a stern expression.

"I joined the Corps because it was the right thing to do. We're not friends. I don't intend to answer personal questions."

"That's fair. Do you want me to take some sort of message to your cousin Amon Sur? I.. think you're each the only natural family-."

"I don't want you-. Involved in any of my personal relations, either."

"That's… Fine in theory, but…" I shrug. "We're using power rings. And while I don't think I told you anything you didn't need to hear, I appreciate that I have disrupted your life in a fairly substantial way. If I can make that up to you, then I will."

"Are you.. negotiating with me?"

"I suppose? I want to make up for what I did up to you, and since you're not coming up with anything I thought I'd suggest things. Did you get your student loan paid off?"

"Yes. Okay, let me…" She looks away. "Think about this."

"I have healing beams. They won't recharge away from a thaumically active world, but they can repair most things."

"You couldn't bring me Sinestro's head, could you?"

I should probably ask Dox for a summary of their conversation at some point. Honest deniability has its benefits, but given that I am the person who would probably get sent against him I think getting all the details ahead of time would be wiser.

"That's… That has political sensitivity. And I don't know where he is, anyway."

She gives an amused snort. "But you're sure you can beat him?"

"Given how often Lantern Jordan's beaten him, and the usual outcome of a spar between Jordan and I… Pretty sure. Even if he's been somehow both staying under the radar and engendering fear across the galaxy, I'd be reasonably confident in single combat with most other Lanterns. And I'm sure that the Guardians would have noticed Parallax going missing. But if… That's not really an option?"

"I don't… Really think there's anything. Try to do that less?"

I shrug. "Again, if it was just me, I've got a galaxy full of physicians. But it's not. It's what the Corps needs. It's what needs to happen for the Reach to lose. And… You've seen our records on what they're like, right?"

She nods, eyes dipping.

"I've spoken to the survivors. Given what I know about the government line on Korugar, I thought I'd check with primary sources."

I nod. "Perfectly reasonable. So, I'm cleared for duty?"

She shuts down her display construct.

"As far as I can tell, you're as healthy as you've ever been."

"Thank you. Then it's time to see where Dox wants me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th August 2012
15:20 GMT

"Here."

I'm mildly pleased that Dox remembers to both look at the hologram and look me in the eyes. His social skills are definitely improving. In pigeon toes rather than leaps and bounds, but progress is progress. The location he points to…

"That's well outside of the conflict zone. Yes, I know that it's on a trade route the Reach use, but I don't see why you want me there."

Other images flick up, and I accelerate my perception to keep up with the information on display. Things seem to be progressing well. Reach fleets are retreating after making token resistance in.. most places, and Grayven's followers and ours are mostly avoiding one another as intended.

"I know that I'm not essential-."

"You will be. The Reach are building up for a serious counterattack. We have about three weeks though, and I'd like to have you fully rested and not dead when it happens."

"I could do a spoiler attack?"

"That would just make them delay it. I'll send you after one of their fleet concentrations, but only close to the time they plan to begin their attack."

I raise my eyebrows.

"We know when that is?"

"It's a matter of logistics and organisation. They can only do it after a certain time, and if they leave it too long then we'll be able to take advantage of the patrol fleets they've transferred to their offensive fleet. The Reach are… Capable practitioners of information security."

"They've been doing this for a while. Evolution versus intelligent design."

"They can't match me. But that doesn't mean that they're going to make it easy." He switches the hologram from fleet deployments and progress reports to an image of planet… Yuna. "This is where I'm sending you. The Reach have a presence here. We've been concerned that otherwise disinterested parties might start to involve themselves if there were an interruption to their existing trade routes. Darkstar intelligence suggests that Yuna's trade league is considering it."

"Considering military action?"

"Perhaps. Certainly considering authorising privateers and sanctions against our allies."

"I thought we'd mostly arranged things so that we could trade within our alliance bloc?"

"For vital materials, certainly. Some luxury products are imported, and we haven't tried to block our partners trading outside of our bloc."

I nod.

"Anything else?"

"Show the flag. Publically demonstrate that you are still alive. The Reach aren't boasting openly about killing you, but it has been mentioned. And if you can talk them around to supporting us and abandoning their trading relationship with the Reach, that would be beneficial."

"What do the Reach get out of it? Their industry isn't much more primitive than ours."

"Information, luxury goods and occasionally pieces of highly advanced technology. Of those, luxury goods are the most essential to their civilisation."

"They are?"

"The Reach practises a form of militant capitalism. Their system promises its citizens luxuries in return for service and loyalty. Without external trade their social order cannot function."

"So we're making plans to unleash our own privateers?"

"I have a plan, certainly. I won't be authorising its use, because there's no way we could conquer and occupy Reach space before they restabilised into a more rational social model that actually improved their ability in war-fighting."

"Then-?"

"In the unlikely event that you are that successful, removing a single trade artery from their system won't have that effect."

"Rightoh. What am I taking with me?"

"You formed a rapport with Lantern Drusa, and she is sufficiently cunning to make up for your complete failure in matters of subtlety."

That's fair.

"You will also travel with a trade convoy, which will be escorted by a small L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet. The fleet is intended for light anti-piracy work."

"So don't pick a fight with the Reach."

"Don't pick a fight with anyone. Yuna isn't Vega; it's a civilised world in a civilised region. You won't win people over by beating people up."

"Understood. Are meetings with the relevant officials already set up, or should I arrange them myself?"

"Have Lantern Drusa set it up once you're in system."

"Why would-?" I sigh. "Harbour pilots?"

"They are close to a war zone."

"Please tell me they can use FTL in-system?"

"At low speeds and at set angles of approach."

"Okay, I'll bring a long book. Anything else I need to know about?"

"Lantern Xor has been busy. The Alignment has collapsed into open civil war, much to the pleasure of their neighbours."

I smile. That is good news.

"I'll send him a card. Any likely blowback over here?"

"It might be nice to add them to L.E.G.I.O.N., once the situation stabilises. The fleet assigned to Earth can be there relatively quickly. Do you still need them on station?"

"No, I don't think so. Honestly, once the Sheeda were dealt with I probably didn't really need them to stop King Orin doing something stupid. Having them around is useful and I'm sure they're gathering all sorts of useful data, but it's not a problem if you want to send them somewhere else."

"I will bear that in mind. You are dismissed, Illustres. Lantern Drusa is awaiting your message."

I give him a shallow bow, then turn and walk out of his office.

"How did it go?"

Ratchet moves his tentacles in a gesture of polite enquiry, the slight tremor suggesting an undercurrent of worry. I glance back for a moment as the door closes.

"Pretty well. I'm going back to work for the Corps. Is Dox having any problems?"

"No." Emphatic negation gesture. "His position remains stable. Most Orange Lanterns and ship-captains are happy so long as the Reach continues to lose. His social skills have improved… Somewhat."

"I noticed. Good work with that."

"It was really more Brande's work. Though I did help."

I smile. "Keep helping. I'll speak to you when I get back."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th August 2012
15:33 GMT

"So?"

Lantern Drusa looks at me a little cautiously.

"So?"

"How have you been? How do you feel about our mission? Are there any developments in your skills regarding which you need to apprise me?"

"Well enough. It's a job. I'm… Not a god..?"

"Me neither."

I take a seat on the opposite side of the refectory table, the various L.E.G.I.O.N.-affiliated personnel around us suddenly taking a great deal more interest. At least, those who aren't heading for what they imagine to be minimum safe distance.

Come on. Becoming a god's not that hard. Have these people even met a god?

"And I wasn't expecting you to be a god. I was wondering how much progress you'd made in finding out what it is that you most value?"

Her eyes drop to… Her copy of 'The Grace of Aulier'? A religious book from her homeworld.

"I'm not finding it here." She stares into my eyes. "How did you become immortal?"

"Did you try reading my book?"

She nods. "You abhor decay."

I extend my right forefinger and point to a worn section of her book at it is restored back to prime condition. Then a scuff on the table, a faint stain…

"I abhor decay. My environmental shield undoes it without me even really thinking about it."

"How do you get like that?"

"I don't know, exactly. I didn't grow up in a-" I point to her book again. "-religious household. But I did go to a religious primary school. And I wasn't really… I'm not naturally inclined to question things that I'm told-."

She blinks, her mouth falling open slightly for a moment before she closes it again, trying to make it look like she wasn't astonished.

"I grew up surrounded by trustworthy people. I know, I was lucky. But when the local vicar gave weekly sermons I just… Accepted that was how the universe worked. And then… When I learned a little more about the world around me, I couldn't relate the fantastical stuff that he was saying with.. practical reality. That was when I first came to believe that death was permanent."

"It still is for most people."

I shake my head.

"No. Lantern Corps policy involves shipping our corpses back to our homeworlds where possible, or a friendly world where it's not. Your soul will end up somewhere. Did you see my tattoos?"

"… Yes."

"That's what I had to do to even get a soul. Well before I developed my current level of pain resistance, I volunteered to have my flesh branded so I could benefit from something that you've had your entire life at no cost." I lean back slightly. "Once I stopped believing in God, I stopped believing in souls. And if souls didn't exist, death was inevitable oblivion."

"Yes?"

"I can only assume that it was more of a shock to me than it is to you because I had previously believed that it wasn't the case."

"That was it?"

"There was an encounter with a dead chicken as well, but… Yes. I don't like me decaying. I don't like the things around me decaying. The first thing-."

"The first thing you did with your ring was improve your body."

"I can heal myself very easily, too."

"So without having gone through those experiences, I can't make myself immortal."

"No, you probably can. Just not in the same way. Is there really no long-term goal that you're working towards? I-" I shake my head and shrug. "-mean, anything."

She thinks for a moment.

"Which god?"

"Ah… In my home parallel, we haven't had contact with other intelligent species. I don't know if there's anything like the Source Wall. But it was a monotheistic religion worshipping an all-powerful creator deity."

"My peo-. My homeworld had several religions. All they were for me was a source of curse words."

"You didn't grow up with one in-" I point to the book again. "-particular?"

"I'm going through them in alphabetical order. No."

"Okay, so you don't specifically want to be immortal."

"I want to be immortal. I just don't want it as hard as you do. I'm so used to things decaying that it doesn't seem wrong to me."

"If you're interested in taking that route, I know a few telepaths-."

"No."

"Ah, progress! You-."

"I value my mental integrity over becoming a better Lantern."

"'Better' is a loaded term. There's no one right way to be an Orange Lantern. Though-. Have you ever visited Larfleeze?" I get a shallow nod. "That's the wrong way."

"Because he has no desires that are actually his own, he just acts on pure desire."

"That's not a terrible answer. I honestly hadn't thought of it like that." I nod. "But I think you're right. So… Okay, you're having a problem with a visceral drive. Working on pure intellectual desire. Where do you want to end up? If given a choice of jobs, which do you opt for, all other things being equal?"

"I like working with technology. But now I have-" She raises her left hand, ring shimmering. "-the most advanced piece of technology in the universe on my finger."

"Do you want to learn to create them?"

"I could, but then I'd just have the ability to create something I've already got."

"Only machines it has a record of. Have you read the files on my homeworld's scientists?"

"I picked up machines because it made me useful but not threatening. I don't have some great underlying love for technology."

"Okay. Maybe we're taking the wrong approach, here."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know of anything you really really want? So maybe you just need to try completely new things. How do you feel about model wargaming?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th August 2012
17:47 GMT

"…escort will arrive tomorrow, my lord."

The first officer of the largest cargo ship I've seen with my own eyes hasn't stopped genuflecting since she introduced herself. I'm not sure if her culture encourages this sort of behaviour between crew and foreign dignitaries, or if this is just for my benefit. Obviously I could find out with empathic vision, but that would be rude and... Wasn't there a Greek philosopher who got annoyed when one of his slaves told him that the reason his figs tasted sweet was because he was coating them in honey, because he wanted to try and work it out for himself?

Maybe pay a bit more attention to what your servants are doing for you next time.

"And then it's a two day journey, followed by between four and six days in-system, depending on whether a pilot is immediately available or not."

"Yes, Clarissi Dox already warned me about that. Is that a common practice?"

"I'd say that it was the technique used by perhaps one in eight worlds? It's more common around major trading hubs, due to the sheer volume of traffic. I can only apologise for the inconvenience, my lord."

"No, that's fine. Do you have a spare room?"

"Both yourself and Lantern Drusa have been assigned a state room. On a Gigantuous-Class like this we're never short of space."

"Oh. Good. I'm sure that will be fine. Please lead the way?"

She rises, head still bowed, and turns to lead us in the direction of the guest quarters.

Drusa pulls up alongside me as we follow her.

"Six to eight days on this ship."

"We don't need to be on the ship until it arrives at its destination, and we can both fly faster than it can. But since you've got my undivided attention, you may as well make use of it."

"You don't want to plan your approach?"

"I can't plan my approach until I've gotten a look at the people I'm going to be talking to. Without an immediate threat, I can't justify an aggressive approach. Any planet like this is going to have thousands of officials they could send to talk to me, so there's no point in looking at the track record of one or two. And Dox picked me over an actual diplomat, or anyone else who might have had the time to study their culture in depth. So he clearly thinks that's not what the situation calls for."

"Does he expect me to, in your opinion?"

I raise my left eyebrow, glancing at her with my empathic vision turned up. She's.. intentionally keeping herself dim, but I can see enough of-.

"You are aware that you don't need to ingratiate with me, aren't you? My whole function is to help other Lanterns improve. It's what I want, and it's how I serve the Corps. I also don't have anything like the ego that approach requires."

"I apologise."

I wave my right hand.

"Apologise when you mean it. I just don't want you wasting your time by treating me like one of the pirate chiefs you used to work for. Just understand that it's pointless."

"It's not easy to break the habits of a lifetime."

"You've got a whole load of instincts you've cultivated to keep you alive, and now you're in a situation where none of them serve you. And you're intelligent enough to know it." I shrug. "I know a few people like that."

"How have they adapted?"

"Selina… Kind of… Hasn't. She used to be a cat burglar, now she's a cat burglar who doesn't have any reason to steal anything."

Lantern Drusa's eyes glow, then her ring projects a Catwoman construct.

"Do females of your species usually dress like that?"

"There's a subculture. It makes more sense in context."

"A leather subculture?"

"She used to work as a dominatrix. But, no. I was talking about the separation between what my people would call normal clothes and what's normal within the… Within theme-crime circles. Now, before-."

Her eyes flash and she stumbles a step.

"Yes."

"Your… Homeworld is insane." The Selina construct collapses. "How… How..?"

"Yes. We know. The point is that while her costume is striking, it's outlandish within a gap of accepted outlandishness. If you see what I mean. But the point is that she instinctively looks around for people to steal from and objects to steal, while intellectually realising that it wouldn't actually benefit her and that she has everything she was trying to get through theft. I mean, how much time have you spent thinking about how to get hold of my ring?"

"There wouldn't be any point."

"At least you didn't bother trying to deny it." I pull it off my finger. "Want it? I can just get another one."

"I don't-."

"Go on. Put it on. See how it makes you feel."

She takes it from me with her right hand, then slides it onto her left index finger. I don't notice any difference in her environmental shield, which honestly is what I'd expect. Unless Hinon's been holding out on everyone else, which seems unlikely.

"Feel any different?"

"No."

…

"Are you planning on giving it back?"

"I was.. waiting for something to happen."

"Hinon customised that ring for me. If anything was going to happen, it would have happened when you got the ring customised for you."

"I think they gave me one out of general stores."

But she pulls my ring off her finger and holds it out anyway, and I float it back to my finger.

"Thank you. Of course, while I couldn't work out how to help Selina make the change in her thinking that you're struggling with, I managed to help Jade Nguyen make a similar transition. She went from murdering people for money as part of a crazy personality cult on Earth to killing people for the greater good with the Darkstars."

Lantern Drusa's eyes flash orange again.

"Your lover?"

"That's the one. I find the way she was able to make the shift that you're struggling with and that Selina's pretty much given up on to be an extremely attractive trait. Oh! That reminds me of a book I read. If… Back before you joined the Corps, if you found a power ring on an abandoned space station, and you had to hide it from your employer for weeks while you worked out how to use it, how happy would you have been when you finally got it working?"

"Extremely happy."

"And when you just got given it?"

She thinks for a moment, then nods.

"There's a book from Earth called 'Starship Troopers'. A school teacher offers someone who came fourth in a race the prize for first place, and asks if getting it would make him happy. He says no, and the teacher says that.. of course it doesn't. He hasn't earned it. Getting the fourth place prize might make him a little happy because that's what his effort got him, but first?"

I shrug.

"So perhaps we need to work out what tickles your 'I earned this' button."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2010
14:32 GMT -5

I watch curiously as the brightly glowing humanoid female with rabbit ears below me has some sort of altercation with the local version of Harvey Bullock.

"Removing illegal graffiti and checking that electrical systems and plumbing is up to code requires a work permit?"

"Yer also repairing brick and mortar, replacin' windows, repairin' sidewalks and streets, and gettin' rid of garbage. We got like a dozen different labor unions callin' fer yer head."

I narrow my eyes slightly, then blink as I suddenly start seeing an emotional spectrum which apparently contains fourteen colours rather than the seven I'm used to. This definitely warrants further investigation.

"Well boohoo for them that I'm drying up their bribe money, but the electrical and plumbing systems are literally unsafe here to the point it might actually be safer to live in grass huts in deep Africa. Do you honestly want me to leave people living in buildings where flipping the light switch may one day shock them to death just because some crooked unions and government workers are worried about the bribes they'll be losing out on?"

I drop down beside her, arms folded behind my back.

"Wrong question."

"Agh!"

The lagomorph jumps three metres into the air from a standing start, apparently without ring-assistance. Bullock takes a half-step back, right hand jerking towards his sidearm before his brain fully processes what he's seeing.

"In your own-"

She lands, right hand over her heart and eyes wide.

"-time."

She freezes up for several seconds, eyes fixed on my face.

"Um. Joyful.. being..?"

I raise my left hand and do a Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper, Cyan Lantern."

"It's… Um. Teal, actually."

"Ah. I apologise. Teal Lantern. But it's still the wrong question."

She hesitates, taking a moment to study me. Right, no Orange Lantern Corps in this continuity. Which means that the only Orange Lantern she could know about is Larfleeze.

"Aaaand..? Then what's the right question?"

"Do you want to do good, or do you want to listen to a fat fool who wants to stop you doing good?"

Bullock huffs. "Look. I get she's try'na do a good-."

"Stop talking-." I don't look at him. ".-or I give you a six pack."

"I don't drink on dooty."

My orange beam hits him in the abdomen, converting fat into muscle. His shirt and coat sag noticeably. The Teal Lantern stares at him as he pats himself down to try and assess the damage.

"I… Like to try and work inside the system? I want to help but I don't want to get the people who live here in any trouble."

"'Breaking and Decorating' does not fall within the usual purview of the Major Crimes Unit. Even in Gotham, no one is going to be punished because someone else improved their home."

Bullock finishes feeling himself up, a look of bewilderment on his face. But he hasn't survived this long in Gotham by letting strange occurrences distract him from his job. "Alright, asshole, yer under arrest. We can do this-."

"And neither is 'Assault and Betterment'. And if you honestly intend to attempt to arrest me, I suggest that you toddle off and get someone with a little more firepower than that peashooter. Speak again and I will fully restore your hair."

The rabbit frowns. "You're a lot more… Non-crazy than I was… Expecting…"

I nod. "Expecting an Orange Lantern to be, yes, I've met Larfleeze."

She puts her hands on her hips. "Well, you're still being unnecessarily rude. Detective Bullock is just trying to do his job."

"If someone is doing something likely to negatively affect the people you are trying to help, is their motive of primary importance?"

"It still matters!"

"Fine. I just added twelve years to his predicted lifespan. How polite do you want me to be?"

"Ah, look-."

Another orange beam repairs Detective Bullock's receding hair line and male pattern baldness, as well as restoring the pigment lost to stress and poor diet.

"Speak again and your penis will grow by a half inch per word. Teal Lantern, I can see within you the shining desire to catalyse joy. You have on your finger the most powerful tool in the universe. If you're going to let people stop you because your actions are inconvenient to them, I can only suggest going home and telling your ring to find a new bearer, because in your heart you have already abandoned your core mission."

"If it's that important to you, why don't you do it?"

"If I wanted to commit myself to saving Gotham, I would do so in a rational and pragmatic manner. I would take over the city by force majeure, recruit the handful of obstinately upstanding residents as aides, summarily execute the worst criminals, then ram through whatever other changes I thought necessary over the heads of any local objections. Then, and only then, would I do painting and decorating work, because the time spent to lives improved ratio just doesn't support it until then."

She glares at me.

"I don't believe that for a moment!" She points her right arm at me, forefinger extended accusatorially. "You're just a miserable emo who's forgotten how to be nice to people!"

Bullock writes something on his notepad.

"I'm trying to help you learn things the easy way before-" Bullock holds his notepad out in front of her. "-you…"

She focuses on it, arm still outstretched, then frowns.

"Of course it's one word, why would you think-?"

Bullock nods. "Okay."

He looks mildly satisfied as the orange beam hits him, then turns away to head back to his patrol car.

"Great! Now they're going to think I'm a supervillain because of you!"

"That says more about them than it does you. But I want to see what you'll do next."

"Keep helping people! But now I don't know if I should keep doing this, or-"

"Yes you do."

"-get some sort of licence-." She lowers her arm. "What do you mean?"

"People often limit themselves by what is socially acceptable, even if they think it's nonsense. You know what is right, and you've seen the joy you've already brought. At this point anything other than carrying on is an unworthy self-deception."

Her eyes narrow. "I don't think I like you."

"But do you think I'm wrong?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th July 2010
14:36 GMT -5

She fidgets a little.

"I hope you're wrong."

"Don't duck the question; this is important. It will inform how you conduct yourself going forward."

"I just really want to fix people's homes without it being complicated!"

"Simple enough. Work out which crime family owns the area and get their permission. It's unlikely that they'll turn down free home improvements, and they can square things with the Gotham authorities due to already controlling them."

"I don't want to work with criminals."

"From what I was overhearing, you're a criminal."

"I'm not-." She considers the point and then nods confidently, her ears flapping. "I don't want to work with other criminals."

"The Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps once said; 'Decide what you value most, for in the pursuit of it you may be called upon to give up everything else'."

"Well... Then-. They're an emo-jerk too!"

Ah…

"Not… Untrue. But it's a helpful mindset to have, when you're in a role that can require split-second decision making with lives on the line. How long have you had that ring?"

"Not… Long. How long have you had yours?"

"Eight years. And I've seen worlds rebuild cities in the time it would take for you to calm all the ruffled feathers you'd need to here in order to do so much as change a sparkplug while conforming to local law."

"Ah, pardon me?" A man-. The local Bruce Wayne. My version lost the ability to maintain his mask around me years ago, but as far as this version knows I'm just another Lantern. Of all the people I didn't want to see… "I couldn't help but overhear your discussion, and I'd like to help."

I can maintain my mask around him, because I can transfer control of my facial muscles to my ring and this version hasn't learned to spot when I do that yet. From the strange look the bunny girl is giving me it looks like her ring has picked up on the increase in anti-joy in my aura.

A competency test, then. Does she know who he is, and does she know of his alter ego. Her eyes are glimmering, so I'm a little hopeful, but for aliens Earth's custom of masked crime fighting is often bewildering-.

"How?"

"My companies do a lot of construction work in Gotham. We have accredited training programs which would allow you to continue your urban improvement work without having to worry about accidentally breaking the law. Plus, you'll even get paid."

Another glimmer, which suddenly cuts out. She's going to have to watch that.

"Sir, are you attempting to bribe an officer of the Teal Lantern Corps?"

"What? No!" His body language says 'mildly affronted', but he isn't wearing a ward. His emotional resonances are totally wrong. "I'm just saying you do good work and I'd like to help you out."

"Would you?"

"Yes, I-."

"Because I just checked the phone records of the unions who complained about me. The first half did so after their offices received a phone call from you. And then they called their inspector friends. And now here you are, with a job offer."

His expression becomes stern. Not a full Batman face, but the sort of fraction of Batman that sometimes leaks through when he's very tired or frustrated.

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing. I'm stating facts. If the facts suggest something else, then it's a conclusion the facts naturally suggest." She turns to me. "I don't think I want to stay here anymore. Clearly, I need to have a think about how I'm going to do this. Actually, Orange Lantern, do you have twenty bucks I could use? There's a few supplies I need to pick up if I'm going to stay on planet long term, and I currently have no local currency."

"I… Do, but in the Orange Lantern Corps we say that if you're too stupid to work out how to make money with a power ring then you're too stupid to be trusted with one. I can give you a list of terminally ill rich people, if that helps?"

"No, I've got this."

"If you want, I can rank them by moral turpitude. Is that better? Some of them are actually quite nice."

"No, I don't need someone who's decided to make himself my personal shoulder devil telling me who I should save."

"Triage is a perfectly-."

"Teal Lantern out!"

She shoots upwards at speed, heading in the direction of… Oh, that's not a good choice. That asteroid is mostly silica and ice. The only metal that's there in any significant quantity is copper, and while the price of copper is… Reasonable at the moment, that's still not a very time-economical target.

"She seems nice. Let Jordan know he can contact me by ring, won't you?"

"Who's Jordan?"

"Good day."

I don't step out but rather transition upwards, reappearing in the ionosphere just in time to wave at the bunny girl as she flies past.

She gives me the finger.

Ring, monitor her to see if she has a personal lantern.

Compliance.

When Hinon told me that Krona had done something to the emotional spectrum in this parallel, this isn't what I expected. Extra colours? Everything I know about the spectrum tells me that isn't possible. Some mind states are built into the structure of the universe, and others just aren't. But if he managed to do this…

If it's possible to reengineer the universe to empower other mental states, we could make rings that worked with whatever a person's 'best' emotion was. I mean, if we can learn; if he just mucked up the Big Bang a little differently here and it can only happen at the alpha event then we're stuck. But it might still be worth my time to learn how it could have been done.

…

Eight years ago.

Down there somewhere Kon is starting to learn what being a person is like. M'gann's learning to be around people who aren't disgusted by the colour of her skin. Wallace… Isn't learning to be less of an arse just yet, but that's only a few months away.

I look up at the stars.

The Citadelians and the Psions still exist. The Reach is still a going concern. Alstair and O are still hamstrung by their unusual technological bases. The Thanagarians are still scheming… Probably. We might be close to Universe 16 here but I can't just assume that it's all the same.

It's not my responsibility. It's not what I'm here for.

But as an Orange Lantern… Yes. I think I can square dealing with Larfleeze for them with myself. I miss that old ring, anyway.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th August 2012
20:20 GMT

"'Something given has no value'."

I frown, then exhale sharply as we're led towards the bridge.

"You have a power ring. Don't be lazy and watch the film version."

"The book version doesn't summarise the idea so well."

"It's not that complicated an idea. The way I value things has changed a lot since I got my ring, too. I only got into fighting because I realised how dangerous the universe is and wanted to be able to maximise my advantages. Which sounds rational, until you realise that I've put myself in more danger trying to learn how to do that."

"And if that was your real motivation, you should have stopped the moment you realised that was what was happening."

"If it stayed my real motivation, I should have stopped the moment I realised that was what was happening. But by then I had friends in that subculture. And I had-." I frown. "Did I ever talk to you about the Crime Bible?"

"No." Her eyes flash and she nods. "Greed. The fable of the First's entry into Har-Mammon."

"The other way of looking at it. In your former life you'd have been happy with the metaphorical cup of water. But now…"

"So what exactly is my Har-Mammon?"

"No idea. And that's the problem restated. The comparison just struck me as amusing. What are people telling you that you can't have?"

"Nothing. … Oh. That's the problem, isn't it?"

"Maybe." The bridge on this ship doesn't have doors, but our escort turns aside as we walk through the noise-cancelling field across the entry. "Maybe. Captain!"

"My lord Illustres!" The richly-dressed merchant smiles and nods. "How have you enjoyed the journey?"

"Pleasant enough." I shrug. "I'm not used to travelling by ship. I'm afraid that I have little to compare it to."

"I suppose that a power ring does have that utility. And you, my lady?"

Lantern Drusa smiles politely.

"It's the nicest cargo ship I've ever travelled upon. It's a shame the Illustres kept me too busy to get a proper tour."

"Perhaps on the way back. We're-."

A chime sounds, and the crew focus on their stations. We're back in real space. I look through the hull, trying to spot the rest of the fleet: the cargo barges and escort frigates. Yes, there they are, exactly where they should be. The form of faster than light travel our hosts use makes it a little tricky to keep in contact with other ships, though on the plus side it's a little faster at moving high mass objects than what the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet uses.

"We're in normal space…" The captain looks around and gets a nod from the comms officer. "And so is everyone else."

"Good show. What's the protocol for requesting a pilot?"

"Usually, they contact us when we get a little closer. They're the ones who are more heavily occupied, after all. I assume that you want to make official contact with the government of Yuna?"

"Well… Let them know I'm here, anyway. It's not as if we're in a rush. What was it, four days if they've got a pilot already on station?"

"Pilots, my lord. One per ship."

Drusa frowns. "How do they make sure that no one overrides them?"

"A combination of interdiction fields and the enmity of every other ship in the system." The captain makes a gesture of dismissal. "We're required to submit the general design of our control systems ahead of time, and they use a form of memory implant that allows the pilots to be trained extremely quickly. But they know perfectly well that if any one ship wanted to circumvent their controls, it could do so. For a few moments, at least."

"Will there be a customs inspection?"

"They'll want to confirm that our stated cargo matches what's actually in our hold. There are very few goods absolutely prohibited in Yuna, but there are certain things that can't be traded on the surface of the planet. There's little point bringing refined metals onto a planet if the buyer is going to need to drag it back out of the gravity well. And they aren't keen on weapons or highly destructive substances threatening their population centres."

"Are slaves traded here?"

He looks slightly awkward for a moment.

"Technically, no. Employment contracts can be traded, though for the most part that's for high status individuals who are well compensated. Most of the worlds in this region of space have little interest in purchasing unskilled labourers."

"And in reality?"

"There's probably some. It's not a major industry though; that I can tell you for certain."

Not as if it would really be appropriate for me to try doing anything about it anyway. Not until we've finished our war with the Reach. But it's nice to have a reminder that I'll always have something to do somewhere. What was the Warhammer 40,000 quote? 'For those who seek perfection there is no rest this side of the grave'? Something like that.

"Why are you smiling?"

"I just had my fear of unemployment quashed." I can tell from the expression on Lantern Drusa's face that she doesn't understand. "My greatest desire is to effect positive change in the universe. If everything was perfect then I'd have nothing to do; I'd be in your position."

"What does your perfection look like?"

"I'm not exactly sure. I was exposed to a Black Mercy once, and that showed me-."

The comms officer signals the captain again, who makes a gesture of agreement. A moment later the captain's screen lights up with the face of a gyuanite, the local dominant sophont. A non-standard humanoid race, they have deep blue skin and an elongated head and body. This one has.. some sort of mouth and eye guards, though I suppose they could be either purely functional or purely decorative.

"Captain. Welcome back to Yuna."

"Thank you, system controller. I would like to make my approach as soon as possible."

"Quite understandable. I can dispatch a customs detail to you at once. Please have your full manifest up to date for their arrival."

"Of course."

The system controller presses some buttons off screen.

"I'm afraid that there won't be enough pilots for your entire fleet for half a local day, but I can dispatch enough for your own ship and one escort immediately. Would that be acceptable?"

"Certainly."

"Then I will arrange it at once. Are there any other matters which you wish to bring to my attention?"

"One.. other matter. I'm transporting a diplomat from Maltus."

"Maltus?"

The captain motions to me, and I step into range of his console's camera.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps, and I would like to meet with a representative of your government at their earliest convenience."

The system controller's skin turns mildly green.

"I will refer that upwards at once. Excuse me."

The screen deactivates.

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th August 2012
09:31 GMT

"We… Had.. reports.. that you had died."

The gyuanite diplomatic attaché looks at me nervously. I suppose that from his point of view I'm a combination president/pope/anti-matter bomb, but I'm not really used to being treated in that way. Other Orange Lanterns being deferential, sure. I'm their superior, and the master of a skill they are learning. My fellow superheroes on Earth are people I've worked with or actual friends. This is strange and I'm not sure that I like it.

"Oh? How?"

"We.. are not a party to your war with the Reach, but we do try to maintain a degree of awareness of its course. We have no desire to send merchant convoys into systems in dispute."

"No, I meant, how am I supposed to have died?"

"I… I doubt that it matters; you're clearly alive."

"Alive now. I've died twice before."

"Oh? Oh." The attaché calms down noticeably. "Mind recordings dubbed onto a cloned body? We're aware of some societies using that technique. I always thought that it would promote stagnation, but I suppose that the loss of a vital individual during a war would be damaging enough that it would be worth doing it anyway."

I shake my head.

"I'm familiar with the technique. There's a Terminan lawyer on my homeworld, and his people clone anyone who dies of unnatural causes. But no. I can encode my consciousness on my soul. All I need is either a supporting medium or a host body and I'm fine. Organic death just isn't that big a deal for me."

His face goes slightly purple. Worried confusion.

"I don't.. think I understand..?"

"A humanoid's consciousness lies in the electrical potentials of their neural network, right?"

"That's-. That sounds like an oversimplification, but… Yes, I understand what you mean."

"But there's nothing inherently special about electrical potentials, is there? There are few species with purely chemical neural networks, a few with exotic energy networks…"

I pull back, reducing the importance of my physical form and increasing my presence in the orange light. It's a little like when the Ophidian and I switched from my human body to her snake body when we were joined, though I'm still myself. I look down at my translucent form, and then up at the attaché.

"See? I can transubstantiate at will."

I shift back into the material as the attaché-.

"Are you alright?"

"Ah-. Ah-. A-."

"Do you require medical attention? If you can't speak, just want it and I'll-."

"Nono, that's fine! Um. Please remain mundane while you are visiting our world."

"Alright. I mean, subject to normal self-defence exemptions, sure. Is there some sort of cultural sensitivity I should know about? Because I've been reading your tourist information brochure and I didn't see anything..?"

"People think of Lantern constructs as something they attack with. If people saw you like that it might inadvertently cause.. confusion."

"Oh." I nod. "I suppose that makes sense. Now, about me meeting with officials in your government?"

"Yes, several officials are clearing their schedules and we should be able to have a preliminary meeting with you a little while after you arrive. You.. are.. aware that there is a Reach trade mission on Yuna?"

"I was planning on boiling the water anyway."

"I'm sorry, I don't think that translated."

"When you're in the wilderness and you're not sure whether the local stream is safe to drink from or not, you can boil it to remove impurities and collect the steam to drink. I'm implying that the Reach would contaminate the drinking water."

"We have very thorough safety procedures for publically-consumable water sources."

"You wouldn't be the first people to have said that."

"We are aware of the Reach's habits. Be assured that they and their thralls are monitored closely."

"Or that. But on your heads be it."

"To be clear: while we certainly do not expect you to like each other, violent hostility will not be permitted."

"Don't worry: Clarissi Dox has given me clear orders in that regard. Nothing more cutting than a quip, unless they start it."

"We would prefer it if you kept away from them entirely. We find that two belligerent groups meeting generally results in hostilities and we are eager to avoid that."

"If you insist. I think it would be a wasted opportunity, though. I rarely get to meet Reach citizens, and I've never done so somewhere I could have a conversation with one."

"I really think it would be best."

"Alright then. Who will I be meeting?"

"Initially… It.. really depends on the purpose of your visit?"

"I.. thought that was obvious, but if you want a summary: Reach bad. N.E.M.O. good."

I grin idiotically for a moment-

"Friends?"

-and then regain my normal facial expression.

"So, obviously, military and trade policy, and interstellar relations. It's not at all surprising that your government has concerns about a major military alliance appearing on your metaphorical doorstep, and I'll do what I can to allay them."

"We can get people from the Diplomatic Affairs Office, the Defence Force Office and the Trade Commission to meet with you. They can convey the concerns of their superiors and then feed back to them with your responses."

"That's… Fine for a first meeting, but I'm going to have to meet with someone senior once we've got the general shape of an agreement thrashed out."

"That will rather depend on how the earlier meetings go."

"Ah. Alright." I shrug. "I'd have thought that your government would at least want some kind of positive-sounding joint statement to steady the markets, but I'm sure that you know your people better than I do."

At the moment, at least.

"Thank you." He bows. "I will convey this to my superiors. I hope that you have a peaceful and productive visit."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th August 2012
10:12 GMT

I look around the Tamaranean countryside, taking in the recently planted fields and the genomorphs working them.

"Things going well?"

Telosmere nods. He's slightly more heavily built than the other g-goblins I've met, though I don't know whether that's to do with the heavy manual labour involved in running a commercial farm or something he was engineered with. While the genomorphs have access to more advanced farming equipment they have an obvious preference for manual labour. G-trolls pull the ploughs and harvesters, and act as ladders to allow the more agile g-elves to pick fruit from their backs.

"We are already more than self-sufficient. These farms serve as the main supply hub for the Genomorph Entire. In accordance with our agreement with the tamaraneans we have supplied g-gnomes to their schools. We will open our first mines shortly, though we will have to trade for more advanced equipment for the foreseeable future."

I nod. "Any problems?"

"A small outbreak of blight. It was easy to deal with. Other than that, the only problem I have is with tamaraneans who wish to mate with me when I visit the capital."

I frown. "They aren't usually pushy once you give them a flat 'no'."

"I decided not to do that. Sexual intimacy is a significant part of tamaranean culture, and we are trying to maintain a friendly social relationship."

I frown deeper.

"But you don't have genitals or.. erogenous zones. Or a sex drive."

"No, but I have telepathy. I am not quite as skilled at telepathic illusion as the g-gnomes, but at close range it can be quite convincing. Matching the display to the desires of my paramour is an interesting intellectual challenge, and if I am successful engenders a positive association which is helpful to our ongoing habitation of their planet."

"Well… Ah… As long as you're happy."

"I am as happy as I am capable of being. I have productive work that challenges me while also having observable achievement milestones. I want for little that my cluster cannot provide."

Hm. As far as I've been able to tell, g-goblins are perfectly happy to go almost indefinitely without anyone to talk to. But it… Seems…

"You're alright with no other individual sophonts to talk to? Really?"

He looks out across the field.

"Individuality is a burden I bear because someone must. I have no great love for my own thoughts. I prefer to spend my time dissolved in the cluster, using my greater creative capacity to assist others."

"Ah. Um, sorry about forcing you out of it."

"This is my burden to bear. Do you require anything else?"

"Do you?"

He thinks for a moment. "Reclamation has gone well. We have room to expand further. Dubbilex or Ecksey could create another cluster and send it here."

I nod. "I'll pass that on. Have a nice day. Mother Box?"

"Ping."

BOOM!

I step through the boom tube aperture and stroll out onto the command deck of the tamaranean self-defence fleet's main command station. A few members of the command staff look around, but there are enough boom tubes around here that I get more attention than the manner of my ingress does.

Most of the crew are tamaranean, though a few Euphorians are still around the place. While this is in theory a temporary assignment… Well. I'm pretty sure that Regent Dulak used this opportunity to get rid of the noisiest dissenters, because while a few have made noise about going back 'in a few years', I haven't really noticed any great rush. And I have noticed a smattering of interspecies marriages, and if we assume that tamaraneans are being as formal about their interpersonal relations as they usually are, a far greater number of actual relationships.

These aren't people in any great hurry to get back under the Regent's aegis.

I amble over to the officer of the watch, who draws herself up slightly but doesn't leave her station. Good. The.. cybernetic eyes and left arm and the greying hair mark her out as a survivor of the tamaraneans' previous fleet. Our… Experience is that those don't make good fleet officers. They tend to struggle with active combat, which given the conditions they endured isn't all that hard to understand. On the other hand, their greater experience makes them good rear echelon officers, though we'll probably replace them all once we've got people who can replace them.

"Prince Grayven."

"Commander Delor. Anything to report?"

"The system is secure. Princess Komand'r's strike fleet is near Raggashoon, while the home fleet is exercising. Ship production remains on schedule."

Raggashoon will be an interesting test case for how dominant Tamaran can be. With the pirates exterminated, the Spider Guild slaughtered, the Citadel Complex crushed to slag, the Branx undergoing planetary isolation and societal meltdown and Wombworld burned, there aren't any 'evil' factions left in the area. But that doesn't mean that there aren't any empire-builders trying to fill the vacuum. The Karnans have aligned to the Crown Imperium, but they're in no condition to extend their reach without aid that the Imperium isn't all that eager to give them.

And so Tamaran has started colonising its neighbours.

It makes sense, really. With all the gordanians did, large areas of Tamaran are actually less hospitable than its most primitive neighbours. Having not sustained a civilisation's rise into space, they have untapped mineral resources which in many places are readily accessible. And in the long term, more room means more tamaraneans. A core population of their new empire that share a species and a culture.

With the more developed places, it's a little trickier. Certainly, they're used to being under someone's thumb. But there's still the question of how to integrate them. They don't have a significant tamaranean population, and their social structures are too different to integrate them into the semi-feudal structure that the tamaraneans use. I suggested a free port model, offering protection under better terms than the Citadel offered in exchange for nominal fealty, most importantly not building up their fleet or claiming other worlds. Komand'r -bless her avaricious little heart- wants something a little more domineering, but I suppose allowing herself to be argued down to my idea wouldn't be a terrible thing.

The work of this generation will be settlement and military expansion. Building up core territory and the strength to protect it. Then with the friendly Crown Imperium ensuring the safety of one border we will be free to begin a program of annexation and conquest in all other directions.

"Good show. Has a crew for the-?"

"Grayven."

I turn to face the diminutive Controller, managing a polite smile even as I see her psion acolytes following behind her. I mean, it's nice to see a Maltusian actually take some responsibility for that whole mess but I'd really rather not be in a position where there were any psions on Tamaran.

"Hinon. Something I can do for you?"

"On the contrary; I believe I can do something for you."

I raise my eyebrows. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm in a relationship at the moment. Not that you're.. unattractive or anything, but I'm inclined to monogamy and you're so short that you rather-."

"Don't be tiresome, Grayven."

"Okay. What is it?"

"Your… Doppelgänger." She holds out her right hand and creates a construct image of him. "It seems that he was planning on making war on the Reach."

"A fair target."

"Was planning. He's stopped advancing, and as far as we can tell he's recalling his forces. With boom tube technology he can travel the distance instantly but he needs time to dismantle his infrastructure."

Ah.

"And coming here."

"I don't know his mind, but that seems most likely."

I sigh. "Thank you for the warning. I will… Begin making preparations."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th August 2012
16:21 GMT

Balls balls balls balls balls.

"His Grace Duke Oswin will see you now, Lord Grayven, Lord Tawny."

Alonzo's butler ushers us from the lounge where we'd been deposited on our arrival and leads us through Oswin's manor. It used to belong to the pirate Amalak, but since Komand'r's Lanterns and Oswin's fleet annihilated his organisation Oswin's made it his base of operations in his new duchy. I-.

I frown at the display case in the centre of a large corridor intersection. It's a cube about five metres on each axis, and the… Thing inside it-.

"Excuse me."

The butler turns back, eyebrows raise. "Sir?"

"What is that?"

"Some sort of monster the Spider Guild were keeping in their burrows, sir. The marines who killed it presented it to His Grace as a trophy, and he had it preserved for display."

I give it a quick scan. Huh, based on their own genetic structure. Weird. The Spider Guild are pretty big on robotics, but it's unusual for them to get into biotechnology.

I nod. "Impressive."

"Just so, sir. If you'll follow me?"

We follow him to the artfully designed doors of Oswin's receiving lounge, the butler pulling open the doors and stepping inside just ahead of us.

"Lords Grayven and Tawny, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Rychen. That will be all."

I steps aside and… Okay, Oswin's a friendly face, a worthy ally and we've got a good working relationship. I don't know what Kalista and Pren are doing here. I don't want them to be here and I don't want to have to pretend that they matter in the grand scheme of things. If for no other reason than that they probably aren't happy about Komand'r's realpolitik campaign or Regent Alonzo's continued isolation. I mean, I haven't been boasting about it or anything but I'm sure they know that I'm employing Euphorians by now.

"Admiral!" I stride over to his sitting area as he rises to greet me. A polite grip around his forearm while he grips the heel of my hand. "Good to see you."

"Oh no, Grayven. It's quite wrong to continue calling me Admiral. The Crown Imperium's law is very clear on the subject. The only fleet I command is that of my duchy's patrol fleet."

Which just happens to be comprised of virtually the entire royal fleet that was assigned to attack Vega under his command. Only those ships loaned from other duchies have actually left the region, which given how volatile it was makes a good deal of sense.

"I stand corrected." I release his arm. "I believe that you met Michael?"

Michael's slightly larger than me in his humanoid form these days. Being a renowned warrior has agreed with him, as has fatherhood. He and Oswin clasp arms for a moment before Oswin stands aside to formally introduce his other guests.

"Queen Kalista and Lord Pren."

I nod and lie. "Good to see you both."

"Likewise."

Kalista is probably about as glad to see me as I am her, but she manages a polite smile. Regular meals and sleep clearly agree with her far more than life as a terrorist. I have no idea how she feels about the Crown Imperium's annexation of so much extra space. Not like Euphorix had any claim to it, but it could be awkward if she's trying to work out how to set Owsin and me against each other.

Pren is there.

Oswin points to a pair of chairs clearly reinforced for the benefit of plus-sized guests like myself and Michael.

"Please, sit, and tell us what brings you here."

I sit at once, whereas Michael takes a moment to get comfortable. At home he usually shifts back into his quadruped form when he wants to get really comfortable, but clearly this rates a greater degree of formality.

"Short version: there's two of me, and the other one's heading this way with a fleet of gordanians."

Oswin blinks. "Two of you? Do you mean to say that you have a twin brother?"

"It's possible that Father cloned me. Or.. cloned him and created me. Or that another New God did; really, it's… A bit of an imponderable. He exists, and he's coming here."

"And when you say here..?"

"He's mostly coming to kill me, but he's got an army of gordanians. Which is why I brought Michael."

"Ah. Yes. Do you have any idea on numbers?"

"Not much of one. At least one Apokoliptian dreadnaught, so I suggest that your sensor officers should wear their brown trousers when he gets here. If he's anything like me -and for obvious reasons he should be- then the ships the Gordanians will be using will be significantly upgraded compared to what their local brethren use. Plus whatever odds and sods he's picked up in his travels."

"These… Gordanians. Where exactly did he acquire them?"

"Pass. Until yesterday I honestly thought he was doing the intelligent thing and avoiding me. But there are plenty of Gordanian clans around the region who were losing out in Vega and could have been co-opted."

Michael nods. "The Karnans have good intelligence on the clans with an actual presence on Karna. But for all of the others..."

Oswin nods. "We only kept approximate tabs on them as well. Below a certain level they weren't really a threat to us, so we didn't prioritise it. How did you come by this information?"

"The Controller who's on Tamaran to oversee the Central Power Battery. Her name's Hinon, and she's got access to all of their intelligence infrastructure. It seems that my alter ego had been planning on targeting the Reach… You may not have heard of them, but they have a fair sized empire on the other side of the galactic core."

"No, no, I've heard of them. Never met one, but I know who you mean. You mean to say that a force a man of your strategic acumen believed could threaten the largest empire in the galaxy is heading here."

"It's possible that he meant to spend some time gathering allies in-situ, but essentially, yes."

"This fleet will be armed with weapons built by the most technologically advanced species in the galaxy."

"On that score I've got a little good news. Unless he's got other New Gods with him, no. Our weapons require New Gods to operate them, and unlike humans and other Earth-native life forms the gordanians aren't compatible with the Awakening. The other Grayven can buff his fleet and followers, but that's all flowing from him."

"So: assassination."

"That's… Prohibitively difficult. With Apokoliptians, it's more a duel between the two faction-leaders, and unless you're much better with a sword than I am, I suggest leaving that job to me."

"Single combat? He'll settle this with a duel?"

"No, it's more complicated than that. Either of us killing the other will allow us to step into the other's divine… Shoes, so to speak." Though I will be talking to Kanto just in case I've misunderstood how it works. "Last time I killed a version of me I was effectively able to give commands to his followers in the immediate aftermath and have them obeyed. Not sure what happens if he kills me, but it would probably be rather bad for you."

"So we're involved whether we want to be or not."

I shrug. "Sorry. I'll compensate you, of course, and share whatever benefits we get seizing his holdings. But if it's all New God technology, you're just not going to be compatible."

He nods. "Regarding our Orange Lantern Corps candidates."

"Stop sending callow young nobles bucking for promotion. They don't have the mindset or life experience to handle it."

"Oh, I know. I just wanted their families to stop bothering me. On the other hand, the three of us-" He indicates oh why! "-are a little more stable and focused."

"Make a will and designate an heir, and I'll oversee your induction myself."

"Then we have an agreement in principle." He smiles broadly. "Let's kill you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
12:56 GMT

Reach ships.

My breath hisses through my teeth.

There are Reach ships over there.

And Drusa goes still in the background as she picks up on my feelings on the issue.

Our pilots have had the good sense to park us in high orbit on the opposite side of the planet. I noticed orbital patterns getting rearranged on our way in as they moved 'docked' ships around and rearranged their orbital defences in such a way as to imply that us moving would be unwise. I mean, it's nothing that we couldn't deal with… Which means that they're probably doing it to reassure other people.

Seriously, I could understand if they didn't know anything about the Reach, but they do. What exactly are they telling themselves about the likely results of having them here?

"And out." I turn to look at the-. "Cap-." The captain, who has apparently found something to occupy their attention on the far side of the bridge.

He looks up.

"My lord Illustres?"

"So are we allowed to use our own shuttles, or do we have to wait for a local pilot for that as well?"

"We can.. use our own, so long as the flight path is confirmed in advance. But your meeting with their delegation isn't until tomorrow."

"It doesn't take four days to arrange a meeting with a junior civil servant. I'm going to scare them into pulling their fingers out." I turn away. "Lantern Drusa, you are free to accompany me or continue researching local conditions as you choose."

I march out of the bridge, and after a moment's hesitation she follows me. Though from the way her eyes are glowing I suspect that she's chosen 'why can't I do both?'.

"What will you do?"

"At this point, there's no good reason not to meet with me. Even if it's just offering up the office gopher as a sacrifice. Either they should have that ready, or they should directly tell me that they don't want to meet me. The only reason for prevarication is panic. I will bet my right arm that they're running around like headless chickens down there."

She nods slowly. "So you intend to do something that will make them want to talk to you."

"Any guesses?"

"The Reach. You're going to… Walk into their embassy and make polite conversation until someone comes to get you."

"You're good at that." We step into the elevator and I press the button for 'personnel shuttle bay'. "There are people who've known me for years who can't predict me like that."

"It was a survival skill."

"Oh, ow."

"I'm not comparing you to them, I'm saying that I needed to learn how to predict what people with power over me would do."

"Do you find being right satisfying?"

She hesitates.

"Yes."

"Okay, so exactly what am I going to talk to the Reach 'negotiator' about?"

"At first, you will make polite conversation about local politics. You will say something self-depreciating. On the surface you will mean it as humour, as self-depreciation is a sign of admirable modesty in your culture. But they will see it as you playing with them, and you are intelligent enough to know that. Then… I'm not sure. Either you will directly ask them about what they're actually planning, or ask them a searching question about their personal desires. You will ask the other once you're happy that you've got a complete answer with whichever one you asked first."

I puff out my lips, nodding. "That's a pretty-"

The lift doors open and we head towards a shuttle.

"-good guess. You don't think I'll start a fight?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't help you complete your mission."

"And if I encountered a scarab?"

"Apparently polite conversation filled with snide comments, while you implied that you could kill them all without any difficulty. Unless they were a slave dominated by their scarab, in which case you would escalate as much as you could under local law."

"Yeah, basically."

We board a waiting shuttle and I wave at the pilot.

"Surface, please. Don't really care where."

"Yes, lord."

We take seats on opposite sides of the small passenger compartment.

"You know, I could probably get you moved to working with Ratchet and Dox if you want." Then I jerk forward. "Initial thought."

"You want something in return."

I lean back.

"Reflected thought?"

She makes a point of relaxing herself. "You're honestly just trying to put me somewhere where my desires will do the most good."

"And that's why I'm not going to do those things with the Reach that you said I would." She makes a small frown. "You're going to." She keeps frowning. "Your theory of mind is clearly good enough that you can accurately predict my actions. Nothing about going there actually needs me to go there."

"Other than the fact that you're far more intimidating than I am."

"They know that I'm on the planet."

"They won't trust the Yunan report or sensor readings. Not for something this important."

I take a couple of glamour pendants out of subspace and float one over to her. When I put mine on my entire body appears to change.

"It can't disguise the presence of a ring, and a sufficiently skilled magic user would spot it. But the Reach don't have any of those."

She puts hers on, and then I'm sitting opposite myself. She takes a moment to check it over, then has her own ring scan her to make certain.

"And if they do discover that I'm not you?"

I grin.

"Then won't it be extra funny when they find out that I am me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
14:38 GMT

I sigh as Pren remains silent.

"Yes, yes, I get it. You don't like me and I don't like you. But you need to be able to do this if you want to be able to use an orange ring without going insane."

I throw up my right hand.

"Heck, for me, you going insane is perfectly fine. I'm pretty sure that you sticking around is only going to make my life difficult, and if I can justify sticking you in a lunatic asylum my life gets measurably easier."

He looks at me suspiciously.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you think that me remaining active in Vega will make your life difficult?"

"Because I plan to conquer Vega. Because I'm working with Alonzo and have no interest-" He blinks in surprise. "-in helping you or Kalista getting home and taking control. I don't want Euphorix contesting our suzerainty and I don't want our access to their skilled personnel disrupted."

"Why are you.. just telling me that?"

"Because you're going to find out eventually anyway and I'd rather it didn't come as a surprise." I shrug. "You can't really do anything about it until after the other Grayven is dealt with, and I don't want you distracted."

He snorts, shaking his head.

"Why wouldn't I just let you kill each other?"

"Because I'm using tamaraneans. Have you… Spent a lot of time with tamaraneans?"

"Zirral of the Omega Men was tamaranean. I'm familiar with the culture."

"Right. Can you imagine them embracing slavery? Using intelligent beings as test subjects?"

"I suppose it seems unlikely."

"Someone's got to be in charge. I pick us. We have the strength to establish an order beneficial to all, and the social dynamics of tamaranean society will cause them to integrate weaker cultures rather than simply repressing them." I shrug. "So shall we try again?"

"Alright. For the longest time my greatest desire was to destroy the Citadel/Psion alliance and liberate Vega. And when that was achieved, I… Thought that I would play my part in keeping together whatever alliance of Vega's people achieved it. Instead, you pulled it down without reference to me or the other Omega Men at all."

"Yes, I know you ended up being almost entirely irrelevant; it's why I resent being in this position with you. But, hey: if I didn't turn up something like that might have ended up happening. Maybe."

"You should give me that yellow ring: I'm living my greatest fear."

I raise my left eyebrow.

"Greatest? Really?" I glance over to where Kalista is struggling to rise from the ground with her ring. "Because…"

He shakes his head. "Kalista and I both knew that we could die. We were both willing to die if that's what it took. And if we died without achieving that aim, we could at least pave the way for the success of our successors, striking a blow…"

He bows his head slightly.

"Instead, we helped.. some people, and we provided the Crown Imperium with intelligence, and we were brushed aside. We could have stayed on Euphorix and events would have taken place in almost the exact same way."

"Much as I.. hate to buck you up here… There's no way you could have known that was going to happen. And you're… What, in your twenties? Younger than me, certainly. Plenty of time to find a noble cause to die for. Heck, once we've sorted out things with Other Grayven, I'm sure that the Controllers will snap you up." I smile encouragingly. "Probably give you a better ring than the undead version I'm going to be giving you."

"I'm sure that the Reach are perfectly vile, but Maltus isn't my home."

"Oh, come on! Euphorix never gave a damn about the Citadel! Once Tamaran fell they just stuck the shield up and forgot the rest of the universe! You think anyone really wanted you to leave? I've been to Euphorix. The people don't cringe whenever they look at the sky. They don't pay it the slightest bit of attention. There's no serious debate about the rightness of leaving it up."

"Then it's up to me to inspire them."

That sounded pretty definite, but the ring lying on the table between us doesn't even glimmer.

I make a shrugging gesture with both arms.

"That wasn't it. It's a ring of avarice, Pren. Noble intentions don't mean a thing."

"That explains you, at least."

"No, Apokolips explains me and coincidence explains the rings. You can tell me that you acted for the glory of Euphorix, you can tell Oswin, Kalista, everyone on your homeworld… Even Alonzo. But if you try telling yourself that, you'll never be able to use that ring."

He considers that for a moment.

"What do you want?"

"I want to build. I want to guide and control. I want to kill my father and end the threat he poses to all life. I want to grow in power and help my subjects, servants and allies do the same. I want to look upon what I create and know that it is good."

I raise my left hand and show him my now-blazing ring.

"See? Like that. It's not complicated, but it requires… Honesty."

I frown. We can't get access to the Element of Honesty, and I doubt that Applejack would have anything useful to contribute here, but perhaps Pren could… I don't know, pray to the Tree of Harmony or some-

Pren snatches the ring from the table, rises and walks away. And not towards Kalista.

-thing?

I guess he's got some thinking to do.

"Does that mean it's my turn?"

Duke Oswin descends through the sky and lands in front of me. He's a natural. Honestly, he's taken to it faster than most of our tamaranean recruits do. I'm not completely sure why, but at least we're getting one decent Lantern out of this.

"I'm not sure that you need it."

"Nonsense!" He takes the chair that Pren abandoned, leaning back in it completely at ease. "If we're going to be fighting together against a foe that can actually threaten us, we should get to know one another better!"

"Alright." I shrug. "Tell me about your desires."

"I was born the third son of a minor baron, and I wasn't happy with my station in life. So I worked hard and paid attention to my tutors, took a position in the duchy fleet under my father's overlord and worked hard until I got a recommendation to the royal fleet. Once there, I volunteered for every job the time-serving officers who thought themselves my contemporaries didn't want and worked my way upwards that way. Becoming an admiral and then a duke was the next logical step, and now I rule the largest duchy in the Crown Imperium."

"And the queen is single."

"Mmmm. No. I thought about it, but then I realised that I have far more power as the duke of a new duchy than I would as king-consort. And I'm going to enjoy building the place up. I created myself through my own efforts. Why would I stoop to sponging off someone else now?"

"Good for you." I slump slightly "Any ideas on how to help Pren make that sort of realisation?"

"I'm a naval officer, not a miracle worker."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
14:27 GMT

Local formal wear involves blinkers, a mouth mask and what looks a lot like a tracksuit. I mean, it's not exactly a tracksuit, but it would probably go in the tracksuit section of a catalogue.

"Excuse me sir?"

I actually used to own a tracksuit like this, back when I was in my teens. I suspect that I inherited it from my cousin, Peter. Blue with a white zip. I liked it.

"Excuse me, madam?"

I mean, that probably was the first piece of evidence that I shouldn't be allowed to buy my own clothes or dress myself, but what's fashionable on one world isn't going to be what's fashionable on another. Maybe I was just… Fashionably displaced?

"Excuse me, madam?"

The local woman whose attention I was trying to get actually stops and looks at me.

"Yes?"

"Hello! I work for the canvassing firm Wolwald and [click-click], and I was wondering if you had time to answer a few questions about current affairs?"

"Canvassing?"

"Yes, ma'am. People like me are sent out to various locations across the planet to ask people things, then those answers get tabulated and used to assist in policy-forming."

She straightens up. "Government policy?"

"Ah, well, honestly…" I give a self-depreciating chuckle. "Anyone who pays us for our insight. Governments who are trying to actually do what people want, corporations who are interested in finding out if there's a market for certain products and services. And the feedback from any one person isn't really that significant, so I don't want to.. try and convince you that this.. will directly result in change to any particular…"

"No, no, I understand." She looks around. "I can.. spare a few minutes."

"Thank you. Our take-up rate is very low, and we're grateful to everyone who agrees to answer."

I make a show of activating my datapad.

"Now, this is all fairly basic stuff, and I'm only interested in your opinion, but if there's anything here that you don't feel comfortable answering, just let me know and we'll move right along."

I start with basic things: personal background stuff so that we can place her but nothing so intrusive that it's off-putting. Just to get us talking and get her comfortable sharing information. Then economics, or rather perception-economics. Do you feel better off than a year ago? Than five years ago? Is a greater proportion of your income going on necessities? I don't imagine that Professor Prokopios would be particularly impressed, but that's not the point.

The point is that I'm constantly scanning her with empathic vision.

Not super-deep, though I'm now pretty sure that no one would detect it if I did. Just enough to know how strongly she feels about a particular topic, and how those feelings work together to form a particular worldview. Which combined with the people I've already spoken to gives me a pretty good picture of… One small area of one city. And I know perfectly well that capital cities aren't representative of other cities, to say nothing of countryside areas.

But this is the environment their government works in. I may know humans the best, but other humanoids tend to fall into similar patterns a lot of the time. If you build an echo chamber, you're going to hear an echo.

"How do you feel about Yuna's trading relationships with other stellar nations?"

"What, on the whole? Well it's obvious; being a trading point for just about everyone has made us rich."

I nod. Not exactly what I meant, but I don't want to directly contradict her.

"Are you happy with the terms of trade offered to each of Yuna's trading partners?"

"I don't think I understand. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No, no, if you're not then you're not. But many governments charge different levels of tariffs to foreign governments they have good relations with, or with whom they have reciprocal agreements."

"Um, no, no, I don't think our government should get involved in that sort of power bloc building." She shakes her head. "We're better off neutral. I mean, the places closest to us or with the most advanced technology are going to benefit most anyway, aren't they?"

I make a show of writing that down.

"That's a perfectly fine answer. I'm interested in what you think, and if that's what you think then that's what you think. Ah, do you mean that as a starting point, or under any circumstances?"

"What do you mean by 'any circumstances'?"

"Well, are there any things that another stellar nation could do that you think would mean that the government of Yuna should change their terms relative to other nations that Yuna trades with. For example, there is currently no prohibition against one nation targeting the trading ships of another that were coming here."

"I… I'd prefer it if they didn't, obviously, but other than going to war ourselves I don't see how we'd stop them. I don't think two planets or empires who were at war with each other would care about what we said."

"Okay, that's fine."

And she means it. In common with the other members of her species that I've spoken to, she has almost no interest in actively engaging with the universe around her. That might mean that Dox was worrying over nothing regarding privateers, or that government policy only lines up approximately with the desires of the people. Or with what the people think government policy is.

"Are you personally aware of any major interstellar wars happening at the moment?"

"I think the Jarixians and the Phemenites had some sort of skirmish a little while ago."

"Okay." I make a note. "Anything else?"

"Ah… No? But it's not really something I pay much attention to."

Which does actually make sense. She's not a futures trader or anything like that. Most of Yuna's revenue comes from trade, but they're not dependent on any one trading partner. If a couple of them decide to go to war, it doesn't impact the overall economy of the planet all that much.

"That's fine; the fact that you aren't aware of any is useful information in itself."

And she's fairly representative of all the people I've spoken to. Amongst the people who I'd expect to be most politically aware -at least as far as interstellar politics goes- about two thirds are aware of the war between N.E.M.O. and the Reach. Some were worried about its effect on their economy due to the sheer number of trading partners affected but none were worried about it spreading here. None felt it warranted a response stronger than a public restatement of existing trade rules or an offer to mediate.

"Are..? Are there any? I mean, from the way you said it, it sounds like I'm missing one."

"Ah, well, all across the galaxy as a whole there are a lot of wars, but the galaxy is a very big place and many of the people involved don't do any trade here."

"What about the people we do trade with?"

"I'm afraid that me answering that would colour your responses to the rest of my questions, but if you're curious then I suggest enquiring with the Yunan Public Information Forum."

"Now, how do you feel about pets?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
17:45 GMT

It's nice to know that the people of Yuna are socially similar enough to humans that they'll cluster around a source of entertaining novelty. As a canvasser however it creates a problem of self-selection as the most opinionated seek you out and volunteer themselves. Finally found a couple of militarists, but the furthest they went was expressing a desire to police convoy routes.

This planet is actually a pretty good neighbour. I checked their history while I was hiding from the crowd, and they've basically never waged an aggressive war. When they were attacked, they kept the door open for negotiations almost constantly. On the two occasions they were forced to fight a war to its conclusion, they were reasonably generous with the defeated party and have good relations with both worlds now.

So with the Reach properly intimidated, this is going to be pretty easy. I mean, I doubt that Yuna will intervene on our side unless I use mind control, but-.

My ring blinks.

"Lantern Drusa to Illustres."

I smile at her construct image.

"What news?"

"I think that it worked."

"Good show. Did they say anything interesting?"

"They put some sort of nanite in the fruit juice they gave me to drink. I scanned it and destroyed it."

"Naughty of them. Anything else?"

"I could have given the mercantilist speech their negotiator gave me myself."

"I suppose that after all this time, it would be a bit much to expect them to change radically for our benefit."

"I took off the illusion charm somewhere where they might notice that I wasn't you."

Hm. That's… It would be a little awkward if I somehow managed to fail to achieve Dox's mission by tricking the Reach too hard. But it should produce amusing results at some point, and even if it doesn't I can clear that up before I leave.

"Good initiative. Did you find the experience satisfying?"

She nods.

"I did."

"Do you want to sit in for me in this next meeting as well?"

"No. There are too many potential variables for me to predict how you would respond."

"But do you want to?"

"Yes. If I thought that I could do it successfully."

"Well, we'll-"

Incoming transmission.

"-see. One moment, I have another call". I generate a phone construct. "Illustres here."

"My lord, representatives of the Yuna government are seeking a meeting with you. Somewhat urgently."

I smile. "Thank you, captain. Please tell them I'll be with them momentarily."

"My-? Ah, yes, my lord."

I cut the connection. "Lantern Drusa, please come to the location I'll be in a few minutes from now at your earliest convenience. No massive rush."

"And if the Reach are following me?"

"Do whatever amuses you."

I wave my left hand, cutting the connection. And then I unfocus as I look at the entirety of this planet's civilisation. Who urgently wants a meeting with me? There and there, but that's just the people who want the meeting to happen, and therefore are senior to the people who are supposed to be taking the meeting. Who are probably less panicked because they don't get full intelligence briefings quite as fast…

I step out

and reappear in the room with them.

"…shortly. Ah, there he is now."

The captain nods through the monitor and one of the more on the ball civil servants turns around, a mild greening of her skin marking the point where she sees me.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you, captain."

The screen shuts down as the rest of the government team adjust themselves, straightening eye protectors and tracksuits.

"Did you just.. teleport..?"

"As a diplomatic official, I was able to apply for an expedited licence." I spot the tracksuit decoration indicating the Department of Diplomatic Affairs, and make eye contact with the wearer. "Thank you, your people were most helpful."

A group of five. Four of them are gyuanite, with the fifth being torcite. Narrowly humanoid silicoids, this one is four feet tall, four feet wide and made of what looks like rock. It's actually a lot more sophisticated than that, being able to move on certain planes without cracking or bending.

Let's see: Diplomatic Affairs, Defence Force, Trade, Public Order and High Council's Office. About what I'd expect. HCO has seniority by default-.

She smiles and gestures to the table. "Shall we sit?"

"Thank you."

The table is round, with a holopit in the central space. The chair's proportions are a little off for me, but they're designed to be able to cope with a variety of morphologies and it's certainly not uncomfortable. They sit down as well; the gyuanites' chairs shifting slightly so that their heads are at the same height as mine despite them being taller, while the torcite's chair does the opposite. HCO pulls a couple of datapads over to her and glances at them for a moment before returning her attention to me.

"You're not bringing a staff with you?"

"Lantern Drusa may be popping along later, but it isn't as if this is particularly complicated. Particularly at the level of introductory talks."

"Ah. Well, alright then. You.. told our representative that your.. objective was… To be 'friends'?"

"We'd like to maintain our existing trading relationship with Yuna, and all secondary trading partners thereafter. And by 'we' I mean all present and future members of the N.E.M.O. military alliance. While I'm sure that our side would be happy if you began acting against the Reach…" I shrug. "That's not really a big deal for us. I've familiarised myself with enough of your history to know that you're happiest not taking sides in that sort of conflict and I'm happy for that to be true in this case as well."

The DF's torcite representative straightens slightly.

"You do not intend to ask us to join N.E.M.O.?"

I shrug again. "If you want to, you can, but anyone with a passing familiarity with your history should realise how unlikely that is. Though, ah…" I chuckle. "If you were expecting me to try that as an opening position…" I shake my head. "That 'plots for the sake of plotting' nonsense confuses and frustrates me. I'd rather just give it to you straight. So is there..? Something you want to ask me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
17:50 GMT

HCO nods.

"What are your alliance's long term plans?"

"I imagine that an honest answer would depend on which member-government you asked. At the core, N.E.M.O. is an alliance of civilisations who were actively under attack by Reach infiltrators or felt that they would be next when their current targets fell. Plus one or two civilisations who just like fighting." I shrug. "There are always going to be some like that."

Trade presses a button to call up a hologram, showing… Commodity transfers and prices.

"We've noticed that we're doing appreciably less trade with several member worlds than we were prior to them becoming members."

I nod. "Yes. We've arranged things so that vital materials can be traded more easily amongst member worlds, and most of them have reduced tariff barriers in response. We can secure our internal space far more easily than we can our external space. Outside that, we'd risk having our supply lines attacked by our enemies. And to be fair, attacking a ship carrying military supplies during a war isn't exactly unreasonable."

"Have you experienced any such attacks?"

"It's difficult to say. The Reach are experts in the use of third party agents and concealed attacks. Ships have gone missing, but it's… Not easy to tell the exact reasons. They go missing a lot less in areas we control, and we suspect that this is due to the greater concentration of armed patrols and the constant monitoring."

DA makes a frown-equivalent gesture. "Has N.E.M.O. imposed additional tariffs on external trade?"

"One moment." Ring? "N.E.M.O. as a whole has no external tariff policy. Member civilisations are free to determine their external tariff policy themselves. Out of… Several hundred members, three have changed their external tariff policy after becoming N.E.M.O. members and only one of them regularly sent ships here. If you're fishing for an invitation to our next internal trade talks, I can pass that on to the relevant people but those are.. generally members only affairs."

"But you don't intend to extend your protection outside of your own-. Your current borders."

"We don't intend to send warships into neutral space during a war, no. I mean, if there was an actual mayday transmission and someone was in range we'd probably send them, but we have a.. war to fight. Generally speaking, if somewhere wants to trade without having pirates and privateers take a cut one way or the other, they use their own security fleets. Or at least hire private security companies to do it for them. The Brotherhood of Zvort have quite a good reputation, if you're thinking of moving in that direction."

"No. We are concerned that the Brotherhood's Code of Conduct violates our neutrality."

"That's… Rather the drawback of neutrality. It doesn't guarantee protection from your enemies and it doesn't make you any friends. Have you considered offering shipping insurance?"

Public Order makes a gesture of mild frustration with his right hand. "A number of companies based here already offer insurance policies to shipping firms."

"But there's no enforcement. So a shipping company is going to look at a high risk journey here and compare it to a low risk journey within N.E.M.O., which… Might not offer them quite the same level of gross profit, but will have a lot less in deductions. And less chance of them dying. I mean, a big shipping company would probably be happy taking the money, but a lot of these are small traders. If they get pirated then it's their next of kin who get the payout, and they're not going to replace the ship that got destroyed."

PO nods. "You want us to… Offer bounties?"

"I don't-. I can't clap my hands and reverse a trade deficit. I'm pointing out why -even without direct action by N.E.M.O.- the amount of traffic you're receiving is going down. And pointing out that you could remedy this." I shrug. "Or you can wait it out. The war won't last forever."

Defence Force switches the hologram to an approximate rendition of N.E.M.O. and Reach territory. "And how long do you see the war lasting?"

"Based on currently available technologies, and barring any revolutionary breakthroughs, something in the region of sixty years. Though.. after ten things will probably start normalising, because we'll be pushing into Reach space proper and their assets should be too hemmed in to carry out external attacks."

"Ten years to normalise?"

"I hope so. My girlfriend and I have pencilled in our wedding for then. If we're not at that stage by then, I might have to do something really crazy."

"Like.. pursue a more aggressive policy?"

"Like eat their planets whole." I shrug. "Our secondary aim is to create a community that outlasts this war. There's not much point in destroying the Reach if everyone on our side immediately turns on each other. And I.. really don't like killing that many people personally. I've been involved in a couple of extermination campaigns and I-. Well, I'd rather not be in that position again."

"You're planning on exterminating the people of the Reach?"

I shake my head.

"Both of the previous instances were clone-races with little individuality. The cost of occupying their worlds and altering their civilisations was simply prohibitive. With regards to the Reach, we intend to permanently remove their ability to make war. Whether that involves them surrendering and disarming or being bombarded back to the stone age is up to them. Though… If it helps, we don't plan on restricting their civilian trade."

"Ah. And if you lose?"

"Then I'll be dead or mind controlled, so if the Reach continue to act as they have with their previous conquests I.. imagine that the resources of formerly N.E.M.O. worlds will be extracted purely at the pleasure of our new Reach owners, who may choose to trade with external parties when profitable."

"We…" HCO deactivates the hologram so that she can look me directly in the eyes. "We would be willing to act as dispute mediators. We have already made an offer to the Reach ambassador, and-"

"Negotiator."

"-they-. I beg your pardon?"

"Negotiator. That's their title. The Reach doesn't have ambassadors."

"Negotiator, then, and they have accepted. We were-."

"Hah!"

"We.. were hopeful that we could bring things to a close, and restore peace and free trade to this part of the galaxy."

My eyes glow orange as I take a closer look. She's-. No, she's serious. She's been involved in mediation efforts in belligerent stellar nations before and she…

Huh.

"Okay."

"O-kay?"

"Yes, I'm willing to attend mediation. I don't really think it will get anywhere, but I'm willing to sit in a room with a Negotiator and explain why in detail. When do you want to do-"

My ring blinks.

"-this? Sorry, excuse me."

I lift my left hand to my ear.

"Yes?"

"Lantern Drusa here. We have a problem."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
18:08 GMT

"Yes?" I frown at Lantern Drusa as we lurk in small café in a less-frequented corner of the city. "We know the Reach use this place as a high value import hub, that's not news."

"This ship is."

I don't recognise the design, but that doesn't mean much. While some major shipyards have standard designs on file, the galaxy is vast. Plenty of shipyards build custom ships without any record of their work getting into wider circulation. This one… Looks like a base hull with an extra module stuck on top. Extra sublight engines, maybe?

I shrug. "It's very red."

"Local records show that they frequently sell unusual items to the Reach, amongst others."

"It hasn't made much difference yet." I shrug again. "Why are you so worried about this visit?"

"They were last seen on D'xe, a world that was briefly ruled by its Green Lantern."

I nod. Jordan submitted a brief report on it. Green Lanterns going rogue is… Well, honestly, since they usually recruit from martial societies, it's not uncommon for Lanterns to push the boundaries a bit. Flat out taking over their homeworld is unusual, but Lantern Kaylark apparently went completely supervillain at one point. Started calling herself 'Empress Surrenda'.

Sounds like one of the people Diana used to fight back in the forties.

"And?"

"A Lantern with an excellent record, who attempted to enslave her world."

I frown. "You think they've got some sort of anti-Lantern weapon? Something that affects our mental state? Because in my case, that seems unlikely to work."

"We're not all you. And we're far more unstable than Green Lanterns." She considers the image. "I don't know that they have a weapon, but when they arrived they were immediately put in contact with the Negotiator."

"It seems more likely that they were gathering data rather than picking up a weapon. Goodness knows that Jordan isn't the most thorough operative at times, but if he found something that drove Lanterns crazy then he'd have destroyed it."

"And all records of it?"

I snort quietly. "Sorry, 'Surrenda' looked like a supervillain so I assumed that she didn't bother with backups. I suppose it's… Possible, but it seems a bit flimsy."

"Then why is she here?"

The ring brings up an image of Lantern K'ryssma, showing her drop out of warp at the same point from which the… 'Free Lancers' entered the system, and then head towards Yuna. No pilot for her, I note. I frown and look up… There she is.

"It's not specifically our concern, but I suppose that it wouldn't hurt to ask… "

Lantern Drusa frowns. "Ask her?"

"The Green Lantern Corps had a major war against the Reach a while back. Lantern K'ryssma doesn't want the Reach to expand, and if these people really have picked up an anti-Lantern weapon then it's in both our interests to stop them. Counterpoint?"

"If there is a weapon, getting sole access to it gives us an advantage."

I shrug. "Against who? I don't remember any reports of the world around D'xe having any noticeable outbreaks of megalomaniacs, so if it works on Lanterns then it just works on Lanterns. We don't want to fight Green Lanterns and they don't want to fight us. Larfleeze is in a holding cell, Sinestro is one guy and the Zamarons are undergoing a culture shift in our favour. Having an improved anti-Lantern weapon is just going to create entirely unnecessary trouble."

She doesn't look convinced.

"Look, if you're really worried about fighting a Green Lantern then you can spend some time with one on Earth. We've got, like, five of them now. They're not that hard to beat." I hold out my left hand. "Illustres to Honour Guard Lantern K'ryssma."

My ring shimmers, then her head appears over the sigil.

"Oh. You again."

"What brings you back to this region?"

"Your war. The Green Lantern Corps wishes to ensure that it is contained within Reach space. There are a vast number of inhabited worlds in this region of space who could be affected if the fighting spills beyond their borders."

"No concern for their Controller cousins?"

"The Guardians are concerned for all life, not just their own distant relatives."

"Anything I can help with? I doubt that there are enough Green Lanterns around here to properly protect a region this large, and they are our neighbours. We've got no interest in alienating them."

"If a situation where you can help occurs, I will let you know."

"Rightoh. And of course… If you'd like to get involved, we'd be happy to have you."

"The Green Lantern Corps has a ceasefire agreement with the Reach. We will not invalidate our word by being the ones who break it."

"Well… There's two obvious ways around that. You could just act as a neutral observer. We'd be happy to offer you a base to work from while monitoring the conduct of the war. Or protecting people liberated from Reach control. Or if you want to get more involved, you… Could request a leave of absence from the Green Lantern Corps and take up an orange ring. The change in mindset is rather substantial, but you could probably handle it. And if not then it would still be fascinating to see how it goes."

"I will pass on your offer to allow observers to the Guardians. I will certainly not leave the Green Lantern Corps for you."

"Lantern K'ryssma… I don't matter. I could drop dead right now and the war would continue in pretty much the same way. And even if I did matter, I wouldn't expect you to do something as a favour to a man you met once. However, if you're even somewhat interested in the wellbeing of the people of this region of space, making sure that the campaign to liberate them goes well does seem like the sort of thing a socially responsible Lantern might do."

"I am not so confident that you will win."

"Hey, if you know someone with a better chance, go join up with them instead. But the Guardians have demonstrated that they're not interested in taking this fight, so… They're definitely not it. We aren't targeting serving Green Lanterns for recruitment, but they're going to hear about us eventually."

"They already have."

Hm. The nice thing about being recruited into the Green Lantern Corps is that you can live on your homeworld. Only the relatively small number of Green Lanterns whose Space Sectors are around here would be interested in siding with us simply due to the commute. K'ryssma isn't local…

"Oh? Are you here to steady wavering local Greenies?"

"No. If they wish to join in your crusade then they are free to leave the Corps and apply to join you. Have any?"

I nod. "So it is the D'xe thing!"

And I open my empathic vision wide.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
18:12 GMT

And I get the tiniest trace of...

No, it's gone. I suppose it was unreasonable to assume that an Honour Guard Lantern wouldn't be able to keep me out.

"Because Jordan-."

"D'xe is a peaceful planet in a peaceful Sector. Lantern Cyan-"

I suppress a snort. A Green Lantern called Cyan. Good job there aren't any actual Cyan Lanterns or that could get really confusing.

"-has undone the damage caused during her predecessor's reign, and Kaylark is being rehabilitated."

"And you arriving in this system right behind a ship of known Reach acquisition agents is entirely coincidental?"

"The 'Free Lancers' are wanted for multiple crimes in several Sectors-."

"But you're an Honour Guard Lantern and they're one undergunned blockade runner. I'm not seeing anything a local Lantern couldn't deal with. Ex-cept I know perfectly well that Honour Guard Lanterns get to deal with classified tasks as well as high-difficulty tasks, so a little honesty might go a long way here."

"For multiple crimes in several Sectors, but I am here because it is possible that they have acquired the broken remains of a power ring."

I frown. Kalmin told me what usually happens when a Green Lantern dies and their ring can't get away: it completely disintegrates itself. But-.

Alan's ring. If a Lantern goes rogue and they cut them off, would that function still work? Possibly not. Could the Reach do anything with the broken remains of a power ring? I… Wouldn't have thought so. The Qwardians weren't able to create general-purpose power ring disruptors, and they could build actual power rings. But, hey, acting against the Reach is why I'm here.

"Naturally, we don't really want the Reach to get that. What can I do to help?"

"Why are you on Yuna?"

"Negotiations with their government. We want to maintain a normal trading relationship, they want us to hold their hand and tell them that we still think they're pretty."

"Yuna has a Reach trade mission."

"Yes, it does." I frown. "Are you allowed to be here?"

"The Reach haven't formally claimed this world. Are you allowed to be here?"

"As long as I don't start anything. Though… On Earth we have an expression. 'What do you do when you find a eight hundred pound gorilla asleep in your bed?'."

She waits for a moment.

"What is the answer?"

"Sleep somewhere else. I'm being polite for political reasons, not because I have to be. The problems that would be caused to N.E.M.O. by making a big deal of the Reach being here would outweigh the gains there'd be in destroying it. But if you really need our help, I rate maintaining a good relationship with the Green Lantern Corps as more important."

"Thank you for your offer. I will take it under advisement."

Her face vanishes, and I frown thoughtfully.

Lantern Drusa arches her left eyebrow.

"Is the Reach having access to a broken power ring a threat to us?"

"No idea. Honestly, I'm mildly astonished that they didn't pick up at least one during their war with the Green Lantern Corps. But it's not as if Jordan wrote his report under truth compulsion."

She nods. "His Corps has first claim to his loyalty. It would make sense that he would lie in a report to his local allies."

"I.. don't think he'd tell a direct lie. An incomplete truth, perhaps." I frown. "I don't think Jordan would leave a functioning power ring laying there; he's not that incompetent."

"Could it be Kaylark?"

"I doubt-."

Could it be? I actually don't know what the Green Lantern Corps does with insane Lanterns. Criminal Lanterns either get fired, get sent on a penance quest or get stuck in a sciencell, but if there's actually something wrong with how their brain works..? I mean, they didn't do anything to help Guy...

"I doubt it. Maybe. Keep as much of an eye on all three parties as you can without breaking local law. Worst comes to the worst we can just intercept their courier once they get back into the war zone."

She nods. "Do we inform the local government?"

"Inform them of what? We don't know anything. Some people the Reach trade with might have something to trade with them. That's not only not illegal, it's actively encouraged. They don't care about the war, so we can attack whoever we want as long as we do it outside of their system. And K'ryssma can look after herself."

"In six days."

"No, the Green Lantern Corps has a treaty which lets them fly right here. I suppose it's an advantage of having a strongly non-interventionist approach to civil society. She can be here in a few seconds. I imagine that she's taking her time to make it harder for the Reach to spot her."

I shrug.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing has come to my attention." … "Do you want me to continue wearing your face?"

"Might as well. I'm going to get a laugh out of this eventually." I raise my right hand to my forehead. "Carry on, Orange Lantern."

I reappear in the meeting room-

"…minister, because we-."

HCO clamps her mouth shut and loudly clears her throat.

"Sorry about that."

"Are you likely to be called away again?"

"I shouldn't be. These things… Crop up sometimes. So how are we doing on the 'Reach bad, N.E.M.O. good, friends?' thing?"

Trade smiles faintly and shakes his head. "We're not going to condemn a long-term trading partner for going to war with someone else. But nothing you've said would in principle precipitate the Yuna government changing its attitude towards N.E.M.O. member worlds."

"Great! So what else do you need from me before we discuss exactly what that means and sign something formal?"

DA leans forward slightly.

"I do have one further question."

"Yes?"

"Will Maltus be trading with us directly?"

"Almost certainly not. You don't have anything they want, their efforts are focused on rebuilding recaptured worlds, and their economic output is so great that they'd wreck your economy."

Trade nods, shooting DA a dirty look. "I'm glad that you noticed that, thank you."