12 September 2020
Astoria, Oregon
Jane woke at 05:59, and reached over to turn off the alarm clock before it could ring at 06:00. As she slipped into her work-out clothes, she idly wondered if the poor clock ever resented never being allowed to fulfill its primary function – in the nine years she’d owned this particular one, it had never been allowed to ring. Or buzz, or whatever. In truth, she wasn’t really sure what its alarm sounded like. She sometimes wondered why she even bothered setting it, but if her long life had taught her anything, it was that the one time you didn’t take a precaution was the one time you would really need it.
Stepping onto the tatami mat that took up much of her bedroom/personal dojo, she smiled at the whimsical thought, then blanked her mind to focus on the flow of today’s katas. Or more accurately hyung, since today she was practicing Tang Soo Do, one of the more esoteric Korean martial arts traditions. For the next hour she lost herself in a steady rhythm of kicks, punches, and strikes, until her muscles were nicely warmed up and she was covered in a light sheen of sweat.
Wiping her face and dropping the towel around her neck, she moved from her dojo/bedroom to her sybaritic master bath. The next half-hour was spent soaking in luxuriously hot (and gloriously bubble-infused) water, sipping iced cucumber water and reading from her battered copy of The Art of War. She’d memorized Sun Tzu long ago, of course, but she found its ancient wisdom constantly rewarded re-readings. Today she found herself focusing on chapter three, Attack by Stratagem, which defined the source of true strength as unity, not size. Particularly relevant, actually, given her current association with the Vanguard.
After reluctantly finishing her bath (she strictly limited herself to 30 minutes weekday mornings, or she’d spend half her day soaking), she dressed and fixed herself breakfast – today a gruyere and prosciutto omelet, a ripe Anjou pear, and a single cup of fair trade Costa Rican coffee. She took the latter with her, and by 08:00 she was seated behind her desk in her office downstairs. It being Saturday, there’d sadly been no exchange of the usual morning pleasantries with her receptionist Zeke… a pity, as he was not only easy on the eyes, but sharp-witted as well.
Valentine Investigations had several relatively minor cases going at the moment, and an hour of reading reports from her operatives showed them all well in hand. Which allowed her to turn her attention to the one case she was pursuing personally – a missing persons case involving an employee of Volksmacht Technology Solutions, one Amanda Parsons. It was a potentially volatile case, as the missing woman’s older sister, Elizabeth Meyer, was convinced the young woman was ready to become a corporate whistle-blower following the death last week of her fiancé, Dwayne Francisco, in what VTS was calling an “industrial accident.” Unfortunately, Amanda had been cagey with details before vanishing, so her sister couldn’t provide details. Still, her disappearance could implicate several mid-level executives, although Jane would love to find evidence to move her target further up the food chain. She doubts that CEO Ernst Holloran is stupid enough to do anything incriminating himself, of course… but one can dream.
Another hour and a half of pouring over her notes, and Jane was ready to head over to the Eastide headquarters of Volksmacht and engage in a little stealthy sleuthing. But as she was slipping the files back into their folders, an unexpected sound made her freeze, her eyes widening in surprise. The city’s air raid sirens had begun to wail! The loudest one was the siren atop the Alden Morse Convention Center, just a few blocks away, but she could hear the rising and falling blare of other sirens across the city taking up the alarm.
For a moment she thought it was the tsunami warning, but quickly realized the pattern was wrong… no, this was the warning for – Artemis paled, her costume and cloak instinctively forming around her as she realized what was coming…
————————
Chuck woke with a low groan, bleary eyes focused on the ceiling. His mouth tasted like a mash-up of a week-old habanero pork burrito and the outside of his bicycle tire after a Cyclocross Crusade race… through a monkey house. On the bright side, he decided his headache wasn’t nearly as bad as it might’ve been, given all the rum & cokes he’d downed last night… maybe because of all the joints they’d gone through as well? Ever since legalization the quality of pot had really increased… along with the strength. Could Mary Jane take the edge off a hang-over? Kyle would probably know.
He could just change into Chilz, of course. Give it a minute, then change back into regular old Chuck – the transformation always got rid of whatever was ailing him, from hangovers to broken wrists. Well, except for viruses, for some reason. Anyhow, it somehow seemed like cheating, especially on his weekend off. Besides, he’d been resisting his friends’ calls for him to “show us the ice dude, man” since they’d all arrived yesterday afternoon. Also, the rental house bed probably couldn’t take a half ton of ice… although it held up OK last night when he and…
“Oh shit.”
The strangled curse was quiet, and as Chuck slowly turned his head to the right he was grateful to see that he hadn’t awakened his companion. Tori Andreas was still asleep, tangled up adorably in the sheets and wearing just his Lynyrd Skynyrd Street Survivors Tour ’77 t-shirt, mouth slightly open, gently snoring. Twenty-one year old Tori, his former employee at Salt & Straw, who’d had a crush on him since she was 17 — before he’d become Chilz. Thirteen-years-younger-than-him Tori. Shit.
How did this happen?
When Scion and Artemis had announced last Monday that most of the team was being forced to take a long weekend off, the phone call on Tuesday had seemed almost like fate. Chad and Tracey, his old roommates, had been bugging him for months to hangout with them, and he’d been evading. But now they’d rented a house on the beach in Lincoln City for a week, they’d invited a few other mutual friends, and he’d realized there was really no reason for him not to join them, at least for the weekend.
He hadn’t realized, until after he’d arrived Friday afternoon, that amongst those mutual friends were a few of his old employees… including Tori. He’d known about her crush back in the day, of course, but he’d scrupulously avoided doing anything to encourage it — he was no cradle-robber. It had been Tori though, leading the other employees, that had somehow convinced Scion to look for him in the rubble of their store in the aftermath of the Incident.
He’d been grateful, of course, and they’d seen each other a few times in the weeks after the rescue. But in the chaos of forming the Vanguard and fighting imminent threats to the city it had been easy enough to let her down gently. The last time he’d seen her had been at her high school graduation in ’17. She’d specifically invited him, and he hadn’t felt he could turn her down. As it turned out, it seemed she was over her crush and the day had gone smoothly. He hadn’t seen her since… until yesterday.
Maybe he should’ve been more wary, but it seemed like things were going fine. Chad and Tracey were apparently still the low-key assholes they’d always been, and at first were going on about Chilz and wanting to see him in action. But most of the others, especially Tori, were much more laid back and several of them finally told the twins to shut the fuck up about it. After that the evening had been much more fun… maybe a bit too much fun, in retrospect?
His memory was a bit hazy, but he definitely remembered being on the slider couch out on the deck, overlooking the beach and having a very intense conversation with Tori… they’d talked about her college classes, he knew… she was majoring in sports medicine… and they’d come around naturally to some of his experiences with the Vanguard… she’d asked some pretty smart questions, he remembered…
He still wasn’t quite sure how they’d ended up in his bed, although what happened once they had was coming back to him, thankfully. Jeeze, he really didn’t want to be the kind of asshole who forgot that sort of thing, however drunk an/or stoned he — they —had been! And as the memories came back, so did something else —
“Mmmm, it’s good to see you’re up,” a sleepy yet very sultry voice said beside him. “I was worried I’d worn out your poor, elderly body last night.”
Chuck turned red and whipped the sheet over himself. “Tori! Listen, about last night… I, um, I hope I didn’t, you know… I mean, the difference—”
She slugged him in the arm, hard. “I warned you last night, Chuck, if you bring up our age difference one more time I was going to slug you! I told you then, and I’ll repeat it now – I’m all grown up, you’re not my first, and I have no romantic delusions about us. I got over my crush on you a long time ago, but I’ve never stopped liking you… so, last night was just a good time between friends. I thought you understood that, so don’t make it weird this morning.”
“Um, yes, that is all coming back to me, Tori,” Chuck admitted. “I may have overdone it a bit last night, it’s been awhile since I’ve really partied like that. But I am remembering what we talked about… between the passionate kisses and the groping… and I can’t say it wasn’t wonderful! Sorry if I’ve made it weird…”
“Nah, we’re good,” Tori laughed, sitting up and stretching. “Smells like at least one of the others is up, Gary at a guess, given the smell of bacon and coffee. But I think we have time for another go… if you’re up for it, of course, old man.”
“Oh, I’ll show you ‘old’ you saucy co-ed,” Chuck growled, reaching for her…
They’d fallen asleep again, after, but the sound of emergency sirens brought them both awake with a start. Chuck glanced at the clock next to the bed – it was 10:32.
“Chuck, what is it?” Tori asked groggily. “Is it a tsunami warning?”
It was Chilz who answered her.
“No. It’s a lot worse. Listen, get the others up, and all of you get out of here, FAST! Head down the coast first, then inland… get away from built-up areas as quickly as you can.” He picked up his watch from the night stand and carefully pressed the red, recessed button on the side.
“Why – oh!” Tori’s eyes widened. She finally recognized the sirens. “Oh Jesus, its—“ but Chilz had already vanished through a shimmering silver portal, which quickly closed behind him.
————————
Jonny had spent a very pleasant Friday night at Kyle’s place, enjoying a wide-ranging discussion that, four years ago, he’d never have imagined he could have. Or (mostly) understand. They had started with questions Jonny had about the importance of non-locality in current quantum mechanical theory. Kyle had explained, using everything from optimal quantum strategies for XOR games, which used the uncertainty principle alone, to entanglement-based steering of physical states at a distance, and how both play a fundamental role in determining optimal quantum strategies for non-local “games.”
From there it had devolved into a debate about whether Einstein’s reputation concerning his opinions on quantum mechanics was unfair or not (they both thought it was), and wild speculation on whether or not he’d had a “lover’s quarrel” with Podolsky and Rosen over the concept of spooky action at a distance and wormholes.
“Maybe Artemis would know,” Jonny had half-jokingly suggested, which had gotten a rare belly laugh from his friend.
“It does seem like she’s known everyone who was anyone in the last century,” Kyle had agreed. “Didn’t she mention something about Einstein and the Science Trust just last month?”
After a pause for Indian take-away and gin-and-tonics, they’d moved on to the problems Kyle was facing in his on-going efforts to open his portals into specific parallel realities. Jonny didn’t fully understand the issue of connectedness and its relationship to high-energy systems, nor how either related to cross-dimensional teleportation, but he at least could lend a sympathetic ear and enjoy the KJap tunes Kyle played in the background.
They ended the evening with an intensely silent viewing of Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon. The Jidaigeki drama was a favorite of both friends, and they’d watched it enough times, both separately and together, to have no need for further discussion that night.
Kyle had offered to portal Jonny home or to put him up in his spare bedroom, and Jonny had chosen the latter. His friend was able to open his portals much more efficiently these days, compared to four years ago, but he knew it was still somewhat tiring. Besides, he liked Kyle’s condo – more than JJ’s, if he was honest. While the Astor penthouse was bigger, very modern (with all that glass), and had that amazing swimming pool, the Steiner penthouse felt warmer and more intimate, somehow. To Jonny it just seemed homey.
In the morning, Kyle and Jonny took breakfast together on the terrace before starting their separate days. Pouring himself a second cup of coffee, Jonny grinned as he snagged the last popover from the basket between them.
“So, I’m guessing you’re going to spend most of your weekend with Nora, yeah?” he said, slathering strawberry jam on the warm, airy pastry. “Anything you want to talk about there?”
“Not especially,” Kyle said, smiling as he polished off the last of his eggs Benedict and wiped his mouth. “How about you? What’s on your agenda this fine late summer day?”
“Well, I’m going to take another run at cracking the local Yakuza gumi, and finally proving that their Oyabun is Takazumi Kaneda. We all know he’s the Steel Shogun, but he’s just so damn good at insulating himself… anyway, there’s a new exhibit at the Fine Arts Museum, in the Asian wing, and I’ve heard rumors that the Steel Shogun is particularly interested in the subject matter… and might have designs on the exhibit. There’ve been some other rumors, too, that I want to follow up on…”
“Ah, yes, an exhibit you’re rather interested in yourself, if I recall,” Kyle said. “Netsuke, those charming little amulet adornments, right? Like the one your mother gave you on your last birthday before—” Kyle cut himself off and began clearing the table.
“My last birthday before she died, yes.” Jonny finished for him, and began picking up plates as well. “It’s been eight years, I’m OK. But yes, I do love netsuke, and it’ll be nice to see such a variety. It’s not like I can carry my own any more, like I used to, since I might need to go hot at any time.”
He sighed and set his dishes into the sink in the kitchen. Today was the day Kyle’s cleaning service came in, so they didn’t need to worry about the cleaning up.
“Anyway, after the museum, assuming I don’t stumble across any leads on those odd rumors about the Steel Shogun, I plan to check out a new food cart I’ve been hearing about – SacraDelicious. I hear the Cheeses Crisp toasted cheese sandwich is amazing! But the whole menu sounds good, so who knows – maybe I’ll end up with the Adams’s BBQ Ribs, or the Lamb of God Stew.”
“Yeah, Nora was telling me about that place just the other day,” Kyle chuckled. “She enjoyed the Dharma Burger… said that scared cow is the beefiest! But didn’t I hear there was some controversy about one of their offerings…?”
“Oh, more than one,” Jonny said with a wide grin. “They seem to be an equal-opportunity offender, which I guess could only work in a city as minimally religious as Astoria. But the one you’re thinking of is probably the Falafel Burrito (that-most-definitely-does-not-have-an-image-of-the-prophet-Mohammed-burned-onto-the-inside-of-the-tortilla).
“Maybe, but I think Nora said it was some kind of meat-lover’s sandwich… the Tran-Sub-Sandwich-ation maybe? Well, whichever, I’m glad you’re planning something fun Jonny. This is supposed to be time off, after all. OK, I’m going to be late to meet Nora if I don’t get going — you can let yourself out.”
With that he opened a quantum tunnel and stepped through…
An hour later, Jonny was wandering the netsuke displays at the Astoria Fine Art Museum, and marveling at the delicate artistry and playful whimsy of the small pieces, when the city’s emergency sirens began to wail. It only took the first run of the pattern to recognize what they were warning about, of what was coming. His heart began to race… this could be very bad, but he had to admit, he’d dreamed about this possibility almost since the day he’d gained his powers…
————————
Cooper had spent the morning on the river with the First Nations youth group he had begun sponsoring this year. Strangely, since becoming the Magus Prime of Earth a little over a year ago, he seemed to have more time for activities beyond fighting bad guys and protecting the world from supernatural threats. Maybe something to do with the way time ran inside the Sanctum Primus?
In any case, he still hoped to convince the Elders of his extra-dimensional home island to begin accepting members of other Native tribes, not just the Haida, for training as shamen… and shawomen. They hadn’t seemed especially enthusiastic when he’d first mentioned it after delivering the first Haida candidates last year – but then they hadn’t been too thrilled about his insistence that they accept women, either, and had ended up agreeing to that in the end.
Well, he was the First Sorcerer now, savior of his people, freeing them from the grip of Varina’s dark netherworlds, restoring their home to its rightful place… he was also more powerful than the whole lot of old codgers who ruled Sgang Gwaay Llanagaay combined. All of which commanded respect from the Elders, of course, if not any great love these days.
A part of him regretted how much he’d grown beyond the provincial view (there was really no other way to put it) of his people, his family, and the men who’d trained him and given him such great responsibility. But he’d experienced too much of the larger world, and the infinite universe it was a part of, to ever go back to one isolated pocket dimension. And his new responsibilities were too vast to allow it, even if he’d wanted to. The truth was, he thought of himself more and more as Cooper Ravenwing, and Totem, than he did Kúng.
There were at least two youths in his group today that he sensed might hold potential to excel at the mystic arts. They had led the group effort to carve the beautiful longboat canoe that had sliced through the water at dawn this morning, and it had been their subtle, unconscious infusion of spirit animus which made the vessel seem almost alive. He was pretty certain they were going to win the canoeing competition next weekend during the First Peoples Festival.
After they’d finished the trial runs, and enjoyed a hearty breakfast at the Black Bear Restaurant near the Marina, Cooper had bid his proteges a good morning and headed off to meet Meg. He’d offered to treat her to breakfast with the group, but she wasn’t a big breakfast person – some toast, maybe some fruit, and a decent cup of coffee was her usual speed.
“And we’re going to be getting a workout,” she’d said last night, before they’d parted for the evening – he’d had artifice work to do that required a certain stellar alignment in the small hours. “So don’t stuff yourself on bacon and flap jacks, buster!”
She had somehow talked him into letting her teach him how to rollerblade, an activity he had managed to avoid for years. Until now. So it was that this beautiful late summer morning saw the Magus Prime, mortal focus of magic on Earth, foremost practitioner of the mystic arts in the world, on the Bayside Esplanade, wobbling along on inline skates and clutching his girlfriend’s arm to keep from falling on his ass. He was grateful he’d had the foresight to cast a Spell of Anonymity over the two of them, even if he’d promised her not to use any other magic during the lessons.
“You’re doing fine, darling,” she assured him. “This is good for you, really — physical co-ordination can only help your spell casting, right? Look, you’re doing much better than that guy.”
“Meg, that ‘guy’ is a six year old boy,” Cooper growled. “And anyway, I am most certainly not doing better than him!” He glared as the child in question zipped between them and zoomed off down the esplanade.
Then the sirens went off. Cooper was almost grateful for the interruption, until the look on Meg’s face registered — she’d recognized the pattern before he did.
“Dear God, which one do you think it is?” she asked, as he waved a hand, changing his clothes into the garb and flowing cape of the Magus Prime. She was already pulling off her skates and fumbling in her backpack for her sneakers.
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “You’re going back to the Sanctum, where you’ll be sa—“
“Oh bullshit! We’ve been over this, Coo- Totem. I’m a reporter, and this may be one of the biggest stories in years. Literally! I know you can’t do your job and worry about protecting me at the same time, I understand that — but I have a job to do too. And the whole reason you gave me this amulet” she held up the carved wood and ivory disc on its silver chain hung around her neck “was to protect me in exactly this sort of situation.”
“Fine,” he snapped, gesturing again with one hand. A golden, glowing portal opened in the air before them. “We don’t have time to argue, and we both know you’ll do what you want, whatever I say.”
“It’s why you love me, honey.”
“Indeed it is,” he agreed with a snort and a brief smile. “But promise me you’ll use the amulet and retreat back to the Sanctum at the first sign of danger, Meg.”
“I promise” she said, rather unconvincingly he thought. He sighed, and together they stepped through the shimmering gate…
————————
JJ knew he should be doing something “fun” on this beautiful Saturday morning — after all, he’d been the one to decree that the bulk of the team take a mandatory long weekend — but there was just too much damn work to do. And really, it had been Jane who’d first brought up the idea, although he’d seen the need for it immediately. It had been a tough year for the team, and frankly they deserved more than just a long weekend.
Unfortunately, super-crime never sleeps, at least not for long, so having the whole team down at the same time just wasn’t practical. They really needed to take another serious look at deepening their roster. Unfortunately, Prometheus showed no inclination to return from Europe — JJ hadn’t even heard from him in months, actually — and Phantom Ace remained on-again-off-again. Paragon would likely jump at the chance to join, of course, which was a start.
Still, it wasn’t like he couldn’t take a few days off… Penny Monet was doing a tremendous job running the day-to-day aspects of Apergy Systems International since he’d promoted her to VP of Operations. His own research and development time had actually increased since he’d taken up running the Vanguard, thanks in large part to his synergy in working with Kyle, Alváro, and the Hunter. The truth was, he just liked tinkering. He always had, since he was a kid in a remote outpost of Atlantis.
It wasn’t like he was seeing anyone these days, either. A situation he could hardly blame on either of his jobs – it wasn’t like he’d been big on dating even before the Incident. Honestly, people were a lot of trouble, even the ones he liked (and he did like his friends, very much); technology was just so much simpler. Which is why he was in his main lab today, working on another weapons system he might integrate into his armor. He had made a concession to the day, however – the floor-to-ceiling windows were fully depolarized to give him spectacular views of the river and the hills and mountains of Washington State beyond.
His lab was, of course, completely soundproofed, so when the city’s emergency sirens went off at 10:32 he failed to hear them. But within seconds his own internal security systems began their own klaxon alert as information from a dozen sources, government and private, began pouring in. Swiping the schematics he’d been working on from the main screen, his eyes darted down the scrolling information feed… and grew wide as he saw what was coming…
With a thought his quasi-living armor began to flow across his body, and as the helmet finished solidifying he flicked on comms with an eye twitch. Quanta was the first one to contact, they’d need him to bring the group together… assuming everyone had the sense to… yes, there was Chilz’ geo-locator signal…
“Quanta, Scion… as I’m sure you know already, we have a very big problem heading our way…”
————————
Nora was feeding peanuts to the elephants at the Astoria Zoo, and Kyle was feeling deeply contented as he watched her. She loved the zoo, and most especially the elephants — her Lakehaven apartment was full of them in the form of sculptures, paintings, needlepoint, and half-a-dozen other art modes. A great many of which he’d given her, once he’d learned of her obsession, but not anywhere near all of them. He did restrain his impulse to buy her every elephant themed gee-gaw he came across… usually. Once her parole was over and she could travel, he planned to take her to Africa to see the beasts in their true glory.
The last of the peanuts were gone, and with a fond last glance Nora turned her attention back to her… boyfriend. It was still a bit strange to think of Kyle like that, but strange in a good way. Nine months ago, she couldn’t have imagined feeling this way about anyone, much less the man who’d arrested her. More than once. Even two moths ago she’d been waffling on what she was really feeling, about a lot of things. But then that damn extra-dimensional imp had stuck his propellor beanie into things…
Aside from getting to really experience what someone with similar, if much greater, powers to her own could do (and how unpleasant it was to be on the receiving end of that shit), the best thing to come out of it was the proof that Kyle Steiner really did trust and believe in her. Even… she still shied away a bit at the thought… loved her. When it had looked like she might have had another psychotic break, certainly the most likely explanation for that mess at the bank, he hadn’t hesitated when she’d denied it. His teammates might not have been entirely convinced at first, but Kyle was, and had acted accordingly.
That broke a dam in her mind somewhere, and therapy in the following weeks had been surprisingly productive. She hadn’t realized quite how much she was still holding back, even unconsciously, and it felt good to really clean things out, down to the bottom. Hard, but good. And her relationship with Kyle had suddenly seemed to jump into high gear after that — which had surprised him a bit at first she thought. But he’d quickly, and enthusiastically, gotten onboard once he was sure she was serious.
And three weeks ago they’d slept together for the first time.
She’d been nervous as hell… not that he was her first, of course, but most of her previous experiences in that area had not been… great. To say the least. But she wanted it with Kyle, and she knew he wanted it with her, however much he restrained himself. It wasn’t until afterward, in the warm afterglow of a kind of sex she’d never known was even possible outside of stupid romance novels, that she’d realized he’d been at least as apprehensive as her. Maybe more.
But it had worked out so spectacularly well it still left her breathless. Not that she let on about that to him, of course. Oh, he knew she had enjoyed it, sure; but he had been quite annoyingly smug enough afterward that she didn’t want to risk his head exploding from self-satisfaction. And while every time since hadn’t been quite the revelation of that first time, they’d all been immeasurably better than with any previous lover. Again, no need to tell Kyle that, not yet anyway…
“So, what now?” she asked as they strolled away from the elephant enclosure.
“Well, I was thinking we might go—“
The sudden wail of air raid sirens drowned out his words, and Nora looked up at the cloudless blue sky. No wait… “Is that the signal for a tsunami?” she yelled over the rising and falling pulses of sound.
“No!” Kyle’s face had gone pale. “It’s the warning for an imminent kaiju attack!”
“Oh my god, which one… can you tell from the sirens?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I’ll have to contact—” just then his fancy watch began beeping, at a pitch that actually cut through the sirens. People were streaming towards the zoos exits, concerned but not yet panicked. Nora hoped that state would continue.
“Quanta, Scion… as I’m sure you know already, we have a very big problem heading our way…”
“Yes, I’m at the zoo, with Nora. John, which one is it? What are we facing?”
“Two minutes ago, the Forty Fathoms Super Max, six miles off the coast, reported sensor readings and visual confirmation… they estimate landfall in nine minutes, just south of the mouth of the Columbia.
“Quanta, it’s Gojira,…”