"Mr. Greene. What a surprise."
"Save it, doc." Masonry sat down on the vinyl couch across from the balding man with glasses dressed in casual street clothes, who turned his chair around from his desk. "I need help."
"If you weren't in the FBSA I would have turned you in for violation of parole."
Masonry looked away. The doctor sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "What help?"
"I'm homicidal again."
"'Still', you mean. You didn't come back after telling me you went -there- so we couldn't start a proper course of treatment."
Masonry said, "Pharmecologically, I'm not the best candidate."
"I -was- thinking medicines which Lodestar can help in administering by avoiding healing you; but I had a different, more immediate treatment plan."
Masonry nodded for him to continue.
"ECT."
Masonry jerked his head up. The silence was broken only by the small trickle of water by a fake waterfall on the doctor's desk. Masonry said, "Shock therapy? Why don't I just save the state money and wander into a crowd of Malta sappers?"
"Because they don't know where to put the electrodes."
Masonry tried not to laugh but smiled anyway. "What about brain damage?"
"You took drugs that killed brain cells, you had a Kheldian extracted from you and you're worried about brain damage?"
Masonry cleared his throat. "Is it successful?"
"Seventy percent are clearly better in a week. You may suffer through initial confusion or memory loss after the procedure, but it's usually worn off in an hour or so. They won't let you go otherwise. I was going to suggest once daily depending on your schedule."
"I don't have a schedule," he muttered.
"Good." He turned from him and started writing something. "Report to the Phoenix Medical Center on Talos Island. I'll tell them to expect you."
"Now?"
"Now. I'm also putting you on Remeron twice daily. So for the first week you'll be having ECT in the morning and then taking this at lunch and before bed. Are you still sleeping with Daisuke?"
He looked down. "No."
"You broke up?"
"I told him about my dreams."
"You kill people in your dreams - you killed him too?"
Masonry bit his lip and nodded.
The doctor nodded. "It was only a matter of time, Nate. I know you love him, but any small thing he might do would spark a rage."
"I know, I need to stop. This will help?"
The doctor handed him a prescription. "If it doesn't kill you, first."
--------------
They wheeled the patient into the room. Hannah looked down at the man, already in restraints. He turned his head slowly, the muscle relaxant already working. She pushed back his hair and smiled at him as she attached the small electrodes to either side of his head. He tried to smile but couldn't.
"It's okay," she said, and caressed his forehead. "Don't fight it, just relax." Hannah's Kheldian Luminescence said, Lodestar is restrained.
They had to restrain him, too?
No, no. I mean he won't stop the procedure.
Hannah caressed his forehead again as the anethesia put him to sleep. The nurse who would be administering the procedure nodded to her. She checked to make sure the restraints were tight and his hands were wrapped around the solid iron bars on the bed. Then she stepped back. He checked some gauges, while Hanna watched the EEG monitor. "1000 milliamps, two seconds," the nurse announced, and pressed a button. The EEG monitor went slightly wild, then tapered off. "Again?"
Hannah had watched the monitor. "Three seconds."
He nodded, announced, "1000 milliamps, three seconds." He pressed the button. The EEG beeped once, then stopped.
She nodded, "That should do it."
She pulled the electrodes off and touched her Kheldian. Is he all right?
Lodestar is fine.
She whispered, "Lodestar, let him heal on his own. Don't help him."
He understands.
Hannah caressed his forehead again. "Is he married?"
The nurse chuckled. "Not according to his chart."
She smiled. "I'd better monitor him personally."
The nurse laughed and pulled the bed forward, aiming for the recovery room. Luminescence said, I wouldn't if I were you.
Why?
Then began the litany of why he was there in the first place.
A gentle voice echoed in his head, Stop.
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Jack, what is wrong with me?
Anger kept you alive, Nate...
This fury. Against anyone! Against... Daisuke. He knelt in the doorway of the small strip of stores. I see myself snapping his neck. Why?
Better than what you've been doing to Star in your dreams.
He shivered, not in the fog, but at seeing the images his dreams gave him. He felt sick at remembering the pleasure of first snapping her wings one inch at a time, then slowly or quickly tearing them from her back, and looking along her spine for that Kheldian--
"Stop! Stop!" He fell to his knees, put his head in his hands. When will it ever stop?
Until you let go.
He'd let them take me. He said he'd protect me, he wouldn't attack them. But if they had a warrant for my arrest, he'd step aside and let them take me. He'd abandon me! He punched the concrete ground, putting a dent, cracking the pavement, and breaking bones in his hand. I hate him for that!
Enough to want him dead?
He lifted his head. "Yes," he hissed, and initially started searching for another lone pedestrian.
Do you want to be tied at his hip all the time?
I want to go home to him!
So you can kill him in his sleep.
"Whose fucking side are you on?!"
Yours.
What did you say that for?
It's what you dream.
When I'm with him, the dreams don't come. Much. He stood up slowly, shaking from fear, anger, frustration, reaching for the sense of pleasure that he had when Daisuke was in his arms. It was there, just beyond his reach, just beyond his touch...
Havoc.
"Havoc?" He looked around for the long haired man with the sunglasses and ninjas.
Havoc is the creation from magic of Hisagi's darker nature. What if that could be done for you?
I don't know who did it, and I don't think Hisagi would tell me if I asked.
Go start finding out.
He stood straighter. "Good idea. Start with Circle of Thorns?"
Sounds good.
As Masonry jumped into the air to start flight, Lodestar breathed an inward sigh of relief. He hoped this could keep him busy, long enough to mend fences and keep the city safe for a little while longer. Again.
"I'm sure Gregor will, Mr. ..."
"Ricketts. Matthew Ricketts."
The driver nodded and climbed into the truck. The two men watched the truck pull away, then Frosty turned again to Wombat. "Are you going to be all right?"
He smiled slightly at him. "Frosty, I c'n go back home an' do wha' I wanted t' do."
Masonry leaned back against the wall of the building. "Study coral?"
"Marine biology," Wombat snapped, "is more'n studying coral."
Frosty nodded. Masonry said, "Sheesh, I was just kidding."
Wombat glared for a moment, then looked away. "'m sorry." Womby looked at the two of them. "I wanna thank y'both."
Masonry nodded once, and Frosty smiled.
wombat glanced up at a clock tower across the way. "I gotta get goin'." Then he looked down for a moment, raised his head, and held out his hand to Frosty. Frosty knew the man did not want to be touched, and looked confused for a moment. Then he took Wombat's hand and shook it firmly.
Wombat did the same toward Masonry, who also shook it hard enough to make Wombat wince. "I think y'broke sum'in."
Masonry smiled. "You'd know if I did."
Wombat only nodded sagely. "It's goodbye. Say g'bye t' the girls for me."
"Sure will."
Wombat snorted and smiled. "Sure ya will, mate." Then with a quick leap, the blond man was up and away.
Masonry played with a glass test tube in his hands, glancing for a moment at Frosty. The tube held a crimson, almost black liquid that swished back and forth within it. Frosty nodded to it. "Is that what I think it is?"
"My blood. He collected a little at a time whenever I was here."
"Oh."
Masonry threw the tube down, smashing it on the asphalt. He crushed it under his boot for good measure.
He called himself a Wombat, because he lived in the dark. The spirits he was cursed to listen to by his ex-girlfriend, a Cabal witch, constantly created a sheen of darkness that sometimes he had to peer to see through. He mostly heard their voices, different spirits rotating in and out, all with different life stories, one never hearing or understanding the other - all with wishes, demands, wants, unfinished business. He promised them all, and then used their essences, then moved on to the next spirit.
He knew he had grown cold, he assumed it was because of the reason he should have named himself Gelding. This summoning would be no different, calling forth a small troop of spirits, maybe all of them that surrounded him at the moment, calling them to search for the essence of a man.
Wombat, dressed in only his robes and carrying a photograph of a white-haired man, stepped into the circle in his workshop. The photograph was a perfect lodestone, because it was true that some of the soul was engrained upon an image. He set the photograph down, and began calling the quarters, which would protect the circle from outside influences. He ignored the two men standing at the opposite end of the room.
He waited, letting the shield settle, then let the spirits converge upon him. Five strong and distinct spirits came forth. He spoke to them, one by one, letting them touch at the photograph's essence, then sent them on their way to the Rogue Isles.
-----------
Howard Dionisi had been a lower member of the Family, not even rising to Hitman before he was killed by an errant hero's arrow. He sped first through the ether to easily find the Rogue Isles, passing through Marconeville, stopping at the Arachnos building. The other spirits followed dutifully, and he could see other spirits gathering curiously. None of them could ever communicate with the other, so they kept on milling about, confused.
Dionisi felt the essence call to him and he headed right for it. The four spirits were right behind him, all he had to do was see this man was and then report back to his summoner, who would find the hero that killed him. It's what the summoner promised. Soon he'd see that bastard's shade among the rest--
The spirit hesitated a moment. It was the essence, but something wrong about it. Dionisi wasn't magical, had no idea what he had run into. He felt something curious around him, something slowly squeezing him, then yank hard...
----------
Womby sat quietly in the circle, as Frosty and Masonry watched him concernedly. His eyes moved behind his lids, so they knew he was alive even though he was barely breathing. Darkness flowed like tendrils around inside the circle, sometimes obscuring him. Masonry paced; Frosty stood absolutely still.
Then Womby's eyes flew open. His mouth opened, almost as if he was going to scream but couldn't find the breath. His hands reached for something, and the men watched the black tendrils start to spiral upward, as if it was an upside-down tornado. Frosty looked at Masonry, who took a few steps back and looked ready to barrel through the force field directly into the circle.
"Mase, no!"
Too late, as the juggernaut ran at the circle and burst through. Immediately, a roar filled the room, accompanying the vision of the upside-down tornado, and underneath it, Wombat screaming, reaching upward. Frosty felt something pulling at him, pulling at his very soul, heading right for the vortex. Masonry was shaking Wombat, even while Frosty kept backing away, finding it more difficult with every step.
Then the roar faded because soon enough they were surrounded by silence. Frosty fell backwards unceremoniously on his ass, the pulling sensasion gone like a snapped rubber band. The silence hurt. Mase's quiet voice came to him. "Womby?"
"Shhh!" he hissed.
Frosty watched Masonry get to his feet slowly. Womby looked confusedly around himself for a minute, then looked at his hands, then at Masonry, then the room. He stared at Masonry, his mouth moving without sound. Masonry tilted his head and waited.
"They're gone," Wombat whispered.
He snarled, grabbed her by her neck and picked her up. She weighed less than his mace, less than a bag of bones, a sack of feathers. He took four steps and slammed her against the wall, the echo in his ears sounding like a tree falling.
"You want it, do you? Do you really want me to?" He slammed her again into the wall. "I'll fuckin' rape you, if that's what you want--"
She only grinned at him, as if the hits against the wall didn't do anything. That enraged him further, and he squeezed with his one hand, his fingers digging deep into her neck, through the skin that parted like paper. In his rage he didn't notice how his hand had closed through her neck between her spine and windpipe, closing around it and crushing it.
He let go realizing he had nothing left to squeeze, and she fell to the floor. He took his hand away, saw it covered in dust and maggots.
He backed away, stunned, giving her room, as she got up and brushed herself off. He shook his hand, rubbed it against his pants, anything to get the maggots off. She moved her head back and forth, resetting it. "Did you like that, Masey-boy? Like killing little girls who turn you on?"
He looked at his hands, then back up at her. He felt his face twist into a feral grin, and he ran at her, like he had run after her before under Ben's command, and slammed a fist through her chest, impaling her into the wall--
He bolted upright in bed, breathing heavily. Daisuke stirred next to him. He shook his head, put his face in his hands and rubbed his face. He felt Daisuke's hand on his leg. "Mase?"
"Yeah."
"Nightmare?"
"Yeah."
The hand squeezed him reassuringly and retreated. Nate stared out into the dimness, the only light coming through the shades in the hotel room. Bad dream, it's all a bad dream...
Idaho walked into the apartment that Darcy rented for the two of them over at Kings Row. Darcy looked up from the TV. "You look like hell," he said.
Idaho looked down at his uniform, slashed and bloody. "Did my original come home like this?"
"He wore armor." Darcy got up and walked over to him. "You seem to heal up all right, though."
"It's not instant. And the supplies I got from you and Pill help."
"Pill?"
"Oh, this lady Vic Johanson introduced me to. She uses a bow and arrow. She's really smart. She's a little old." He smiled at Darcy. "She said that you were my father."
Darcy turned white, then blushed. "I...uh, well, I guess, maybe yeah, you could say that."
"I could call you Dad. I don't know, it sounds weird calling you Darcy. You made me."
"I didn't... well, not--" He studied Idaho, saw Nate's old look of confusion on his face, and he felt a burst in his heart. Darcy smiled. "Yeah, you can refer to me as that if you want."
Idaho nodded once, went over to the refrigerator. "I was wondering, Pill was talking about a snake between my legs."
Darcy almost choked.
"It's what I think it is, isn't it?" He turned around to face him, and pointed to his crotch.
"Yeah, yeah, it's what you think it is."
"Oh..." He blushed. "Now why am I so embarrassed?"
"Nate was like that too," Darcy said. "Discussed girls and he blushed all the time. What about... that snake between your legs?"
"What about it?"
"Is it uncomfortable?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Sometimes if you even talk about the snake it'll get uncomfortable."
"I just know that when people talk about some things with me, I get embarrassed, but I don't know why."
Darcy approached him. "It's mostly a cultural thing, which might be embedded in your genes or your brain, I have no idea. Some doctor somewhere would be so excited to tear you apart."
Idaho blinked. "That doesn't sound good."
"It's not meant to. You're going to keep doing what you're doing, do the hero stuff, save the damsels and get cats down from trees."
"Nobody's asked me to do that yet."
"They will." He stood in front of Idaho. "You'll see a lot of weird shit, Nate." He smiled gently. "I think you'll accept it a lot better than the Nate I knew did."
"How do I know what's weird and what's not?"
Darcy laughed. "Then you won't have a problem!"
Nate smiled at the woman with the clipboard who barely gave him a glance. She took the small card from him that medically cleared him for service. "Nate. That's it?"
"That's it."
She shrugged and walked over to a desk. "I've heard weirder I suppose." She put the card through a slot next to the computer on her desk. She looked at the screen, then up at him. Then, while studying the screen, her arms folded across her chest, she asked, "Who's this Darcy person?"
"He's my maker."
She looked at him. "Where is he?"
"He's right outside."
"Could you get him?"
He nodded, and went out into the hallway. The man who followed Nate back was a tall, bald black man, who walked forward as if he had nothing to hide. The woman shook her head. Did he have no idea what he'd just done? With a press of a button, she forwarded the information to her superior, Rebecca Brunell. She would have to approve security to come down and take these two people away for illegal activities. The clone would have to be disposed of, and the scientist would head to the Zig.
"Good morning, sir," she said, and saw something flash on her computer. "Excuse me a moment." She clicked open the flashing icon.
From her supervisor: Due to significant increase in Rikti attacks, we need all the help we can get. Let it go.
She hoped the two men on the other side of the desk didn't see her "deer-in-headlights" look. She swallowed. "I..um... so! What will be your superhero name?" She sat down at the desk and converted the information on the card into the superhero ID form.
"I never thought about it," said Nate
Darcy said, "Duncan Idaho."
She poised her fingers above the keys, looking to Nate for approval. He tilted his head at Darcy. "What does that mean?"
"It's the name of a ghola, a clone, in the science fiction series Dune by Frank Herbert. He was a Swordmaster."
The woman asked, "Is that the weapon you use?"
"No, not really."
"What do you use?"
"I don't know."
She looked at the screen. "It says you set yourself on fire."
He nodded. "The only thing I can do with fire is make more. I can't make it into things."
Darcy nodded. "We tried. He needs a weapon."
"We'll leave that part blank. You can always use your bare hands."
Nate said, "No, I think I'll break something if I do that."
The woman typed. "All right, Duncan Idaho's taken."
"How about just Idaho?"
She typed, saying, "People are going to think you're a potato. That's available. Congratulations, Idaho, welcome to the Phalanx."
Nate, now Idaho, smiled and took the offered ID. "Thanks! I won't let you down."
"It's what they all say. Go over to E.L.I.T.E. to ask them if you can try out some weapons. Don't be upset if they start calling you 'Spuds'."
Nate looked confused, while Darcy bristled and took Nate's arm. "C'mon, Nate." He muttered to him as they walked across the hall, "People who care will know what the reference really is."
"But what does 'Spuds' mean?"
"I'll explain later."