FSE

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Chapter -6-

Mens Rea

December 21, 2023 - Noon PST San Francisco, California ...

** Evan paced his small shop** , holding a tablet computer in his hand. "I can't believe it's been almost two weeks since they left for Japan. I miss Johann and we haven't been able to find your pal, Reno."

Karla yawned and leaned back along the counter, rubbing between Kuda's ears. "Whatever. If you're going to be taking down criminals using your abilities, you need to know the law. So stop complaining. Have you found it?"

He paused and zeroed in on a line in a block of digital text then smiled. "I have now."

"You sure? You found the one you were looking for, babe?" The succubus stretched.

"I think so." Evan read over the section then he quoted aloud, "Number 837. A private person may arrest another ... _Okay, get this: _One, for a public offense committed or attempted in his or her presence. Two, when the person arrested has committed a felony, although not in his presence. Three, when a felony has been in fact committed, and he or she has reasonable cause for believing the person arrested to have committed it. _Heck yeah, this means we can definitely fight crime, legally! Number 839. Any person making an arrest may orally summon as many persons as he or she deems necessary to aid him or her therein._ Now, that's interesting to learn. Does that mean I can call on sidekicks, a gang or an army to help? Or does it mean I'd be deputizing by calling some random dude to help me hold someone down?"

Evan skipped down, skimming through the California Penal Code, then said, "Oh, this one is good, too: 846. Any person making an arrest may take from the person arrested all offensive weapons which he may have about his person, and _must deliver them to the magistrate before whom he is taken._ Oh, man. If I'm turning them to glass and shattering them, I won't have evidence anymore; I'd better stick to bullets unless they have more than one gun. I'll have to remember that one."

"You need the one about where to take the bad guys, babe."

"Found it, Karla. Good grief. Okay, check this out - this one is going to make stuff difficult." He looked up at her then back down at the tablet screen. "847 'a'. It says I have to take the offender, without unnecessary delay, before a magistrate or deliver him or her to a peace officer. What the crap is a peace officer?"

Karla shrugged in reply. "Sweetie, I think it means a security guard, or anyone charged with upholding law that isn't necessarily armed. Funny name, though. I have a mental image of a pansy wearing a pansy."

Evan looked up from the tablet. "Say what?"

"A flower wearing hippie with a mall cop badge or something. Don't mind me. So, what else have you found? Are you ready to be a Real Life Superhero or what?"

"What do you mean 'Real Life' superhero?"

"I mean like the people already doing this stuff without abilities. The people who dress up in costumes and do this in real life. Surely you've run in some circles where you've met people to do that. C'mon now."

"Uh. No?" Evan tilted his head. "What are you talking about? People dress up as superheroes in real life?"

"Uh, yeah. Duh."

Evan quirked a brow. "Who?"

"I've heard of a few." Karla shrugged. "Look up Shadow Hare."

Evan thumbed the screen then said, "It says he's some guy in Ohio a few years ago. He used cuffs, a Taser and pepper-spray to apprehend criminals. A little on the lanky side."

She smiled. "Yeah? Kind of like the lanky character from that comic-turned movie, Kick Ass. Anyway, he's not the only one who walks around fighting crime in a costume, dear. There's an older guy in Florida doing the same thing. They're all pals or something. I think they have a non-profit public service, also, to help the less fortunate with food and clothing or something." She snapped her fingers several times then grinned. "Master Legend. See? I knew I knew his name. Team Justice, Inc. That's the non-profit; they're brave guys considering they do what you've been doing - chasing jerks - but they do it with_out_ abilities."

"You're serious? I've never heard of these people."

Karla offered a dull glare. "There's bunches right here in California."

"What? Seriously?"

She shrugged in a nonchalant way. "Yeah, Evan, seriously. There are bunches. I haven't followed their work for years. I can't remember all the names I'd heard of. Let's see," she trailed off and rubbed her manicured nails beneath her chin. "There was, hmm, 'Mister Xtreme' was on the news a little while back in San Diego. Don't know if he lives here or not, though." She opened her hand. With a pink glow on her palm, his tablet appeared in her grasp. She opened a website, saying aloud, "I guess you've never seen this, WorldSuperheroRegistry dot com. Hell, I have no idea if it's up to date, though. It's definitely not the only one up. There's lots of 'dot nets' and 'dot orgs' out there for these guys."

"I can't believe ... they're really real people?"

"Yes, goober. You can Google them, yourself, right now. They're real. They're brave and they give a damn. You're the most heroic kid I know. And the nerdiest. How can you not know about the 'RLSH' groups? Son ... I. Am. Disappoint."

"I'm floored. How could I not know about this?" he pointed at a collections of pictures on the screen. "Some of their costumes are intense. God, look at that one."

Karla returned the tablet to his hand with but a flit of her finger. "Evan, why does it surprise you that there are normal people out there doing what you do against those mercenaries? Honey, it's a big world and there are billions of different, unique people. There're bound to be a fist-full of people that are willing to 'shoulder the burden of protecting the innocent in the face of mockery, crime and injustice,'" she said, quoting a tagline on one of the pictures. "And, newsflash, they've been doing it longer than you." She offered a sly looking grin. "And yes, there are even a few girls."

"You sure are full of trivia knowledge. You know a little bit about everything. You should go on a game show and get rich. You're popular with the jocks, the nerds ... just everyone." His eyes lowered to the tablet screen again. He took a moment to scroll down the list of pictured people in costumes. "Goodness. Oh, and look at that guy." He continued to scroll, idly adding, "That PDF file was pretty extensive. And exhausting. Thanks for making me take a break from scrutinizing penal laws."

She ran her nails down the miniature fox's back. The little animal straightened his hind legs and lifted his backside, as if pushing his back up against her nails. Kuda chirred in delight from the back-scratches. She grinned. "I'd hate to be a state attorney."

"No kidding. So anyway, what if we can't find this guy you mentioned last week?"

"I promise Reno will eventually appear," she said with a smile. "Have a little faith in my understanding of psychology. This is his city. He doesn't want anyone making a mess here. The only reason he's lying low is because the mercenaries and their boss left. No one is being attacked anymore. Besides, San Francisco has had its share of historical vigilantes. You and Reno won't be the first."

"Historical vigilantes? How come I've never heard of any historical vigilantes in this city?"

"Because it was in the 1850's, sweetums." Karla leaned back on the glass sunbathing chair. The sunbeam that filtered in through the skylight windows above gave her an excessively vibrant appearance. "I love this chair. It doesn't get hot. Glass always gets hot. How'd you make this so that it stays cool like this?"

"I made it out of quartz sand. Rich people buy them and put them by their pool because they never get hot. So, these guys from back in the days of the gold rush - what made them so historical?"

Karla placed her hands behind her head. "I could soak up the rays all day in this thing. We need one for the back deck of the boat. Is there a way to fasten this thing down so it doesn't move?"

"Special glue," he said. "So ... the vigilantes?"

"The Committee of Vigilance. They hanged people, seized armaments, went after corrupt people like the Chief Justice of the state's Supreme Court; all kinda' stuff. They disappeared then came back about five years later. They offered rewards to people for aid in catching criminals. You could've looked it up yourself. So, moving on! I need this chair."

"That's just a demo. The ones I make for clients get the personalized touch. They're much more comfortable."

Karla sat up. "How can it possibly be even more comfortable than this?"

Evan sighed and placed his tablet on a counter. He approached her and said, "I'm going to touch you in a way that may appear intimate. Don't, uh ... don't get excited, okay?" He knelt adjacent to her and said, "I need you to lift your backside off the chair a little bit."

Karla looked at him for a moment, grinned then arched her hips, lifting her bottom off the chair. Evan closed his eyes and reached both hands between her rump and the glass surface. After several seconds of silence, he withdrew his hands and walked away. "Try that."

The demoness slumped back into the chair. Her eyes widened. "Oh my goodness. This is amazing. What'd you do?"

"I molded the surface to your unique shape. It cradles your frame and supports your body evenly to reduce pressure points. I can also make them with loose quartz sand, like a chair with a sandbox, so that you can change the contour and molding simply by wiggling. I came up with the idea for a heavy-set customer and the idea sold fairly well." He picked his tablet back up and switched on the screen. "Okay. Where are your friends?"

Karla withdrew her cellphone and glanced at the time on it. "I need to plug this thing in soon. Anyhow, they should be here anytime, now. Miss Ubysh and Mister Loupe are going to be staying with us on the boat. Do you have copies of Johann's photographs on your cellphone?" She slapped the bracelet on her wrist. It snapped shut and became a loose fitting bangle.

"Yes, why?"

"Because Miss Ubysh is going to be interested in seeing the pictures of that compass thing. Did I tell you what Lance said?"

"No." Evan flicked his finger across the glass screen. His eyes panned from left to right, slowly.

"He said that compass thing from the pictures has the same writing on it as that thing that fell to Earth in 1932, at Groom Lake."

Evan glanced up at her again, watching her relax in the chair. His eyes lowered back to the tablet. He blinked then looked back up at her. "Groom Lake? Isn't that the same place as Area-51?"

"Oh, I thought I told you. Silly me. Yes. The code name for that place changes every so often. It hasn't been Area-51 in ages. But that's what it was called when information regarding the site leaked to the public. I have no idea what they're calling it these days in an official capacity. Moving on. The writing on the artifact apparently matches the writing on the detritus that landed in Nevada all those decades ago."

Evan put the tablet down again and approached the succubus. "Okay, let me see if I can follow this. Something from space lands in the desert and the military builds a test facility overtop of it? And this 'thing' that is thousands of years old, which was stolen from Japan - it has the same language written on it? So the artifacts are from aliens?"

The succubus sat up and tucked a lock of blond behind her right ear. "Oh, sweetie. It's not quite that complicated. Just between us, both artifacts were made right here on this planet. By a people forgotten by time who kept their civilization aloft, leaving very little to find."

"But there would be proof."

"Mm, yes, some preserved things have been found, some fossilized objects have turned up ... but they've all been confiscated and hidden from the public. That scene started many decades ago, by an administration obsessed with secrecy. Fox's dad was one of the contracted teams tasked with finding and stealing anything that was discovered. Aris Falcon was a team member and that's one of the reasons how and why he knows so much about this stuff. He went by Aris Sokolov back then."

Evan stared at her for a moment then shook his head. "Chrono Trigger was right. The Earthbound ones and the Enlightened ones from twelve-thousand BC." He ran his hands up over his head, cupped the backside of his skull and tucked his face into his elbows. With his arms up over his face, he began pacing once more. "I loved that game. Were the people from the past deities like the people Sinopa works for?"

"No, but they inspired some of the deities. It's complicated. But, it's also really simple. The people of the First Age were advanced. Enough so that they cleaned up after themselves, and still do as their zillion-year-old trash occasionally pops up."

"Geeze, Karla. Look, this is a lot to soak up and I need a minute to..."

The door of the store opened. The top of the door brushed against a set of glass chimes. Evan dropped his arms to his sides and said, "Welcome to A Payne In The Glass. I'm Evan, how can I help you?"

An average-built white man crossed the foyer and approached Karla. Without a word, she stood up from the chair and they embraced in silence. Seconds later, an African woman stepped into the store and folded her hands. She casually looked around then approached a selection on the wall. She stopped in front of glass flowers made with realistic texture in life-like detail.

Evan rubbed his thumb against the bottom side of his fingers while watching her. He swallowed; his eyes drank in her figure. He rubbed both his hands against his pants.

He stopped by a pump of moisturizer and rubbed the lotion on his palms then on his forearms and swallowed. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and silently scolded himself for being nervous around a pretty face. He reminded himself that Karla didn't have an effect on him and smoothed a wrinkle in his shirt.

He approached the young lady from behind then moved to her left and, in a soft voice, said, "Do you prefer the colored version or the clear ones?"

She reached for the colored glass then stopped short of touching it. She glanced back at Evan who offered a nod of approval then she gently eased her fingertips over the glass sculpture of flowers and smiled. Her accent was Russian. Calm, intelligent and full of confidence. "How can you make something so intricate and flawless like this? This is your work, isn't it?"

"Yes, I make everything right here in the store."

She looked around then glanced back at him. "How do you make it? I don't see any equipment for the creation of your work."

He smiled in reply. "Trade secret."

Karla approached them from behind and put her arms around them both, her head between theirs. "Hey kids. I see you two paired off in about two seconds flat. Sweetheart, this is Evan Balmoral. Greatest unknown glassmaker in the world. Evan, my young padawan, this ... is Patience."

Evan's eyes widened. Everything rushed back, all at once. The joking on the sub, Sinopa's words, Karla's wordplay ... everything. He swallowed and rubbed his palms against his pants again. "You, uh ... you don't say."

"Oh but I do say. This is Patience Ubysh. She has a dual citizenship in South Africa and Russia. She's very smart. She was only turned down for her PhD because she wrote about people with abilities. Why don't you show her what you can do?"

"I, uh."

Patience leaned forward, looking past Karla to Evan. "You have an ability like Eric, Mr. Shopkeeper?"

Evan swallowed. His mouth suddenly felt dry. "Yes." He hesitated until receiving a nudge in the rib from Karla. He reached up and touched the colored flower wreath made from glass. The glass began to melt away, leaving only the flowers encased within, preserved as the template for the creation. The petals were as soft and lustrous as they day he encased them. "They came from a local florist."

While touching the flower with his hand, he lifted his other and created a clear glass duplicate and passed it in front of Karla to Patience. "I make things. I keep sand in a baggy in my pocket. When I'm at the shop, I keep silica beneath the floor. I can use it to create things at any time. I can also change an object to glass or encase it in glass. I just ... that's what I do."

Patience drew her hand from the exposed flower petal on the wall and cupped his freshly created gift in her palms. "Most impressive and most beautiful. The detail is astonishing. The mathematical work performed by your mind to accomplish this task is beyond belief and..." she lifted her eyes and smiled at him. "You can change the molecular traits of something like sand, shape it, heat it, and craft it ... with but a thought? Never have I seen anything like it."

"Oh, he's way more impressive than flowers," said Karla with a grin. "He can turn a bullet into glass by creating a field around himself or another. Once the rounds hit the field, they change to glass. Out of preference, he turns them into the cheapest, thinnest glass possible. They shatter without breaking the skin. Stings a little but..." Karla turned to Evan and scrunched her brows. "Why can't you double-hex a bullet? Turn it into glass, then into sand? It would hurt a lot less."

A wry grin found the young man's face. "I suppose you're right. I'll try it next time I'm being shot at. Which, hopefully, will never happen again."

"Yeah, well, knowing our luck, you better be ready for it." She used her arms, around their shoulders, to pull their faces closer, until they both touched the demon's pink-tinted cheeks.

A voice came from behind. "Karla..."

Karla gave both Evan and Patience a flirty smile then withdrew her arms from their shoulders and added a playful pat on their backsides. "Now play nice kids." She turned and walked back to Eric. "C'mon, Loopy-Loupe. My little Fruit-Loupe. Let's go stand out behind the store and talk about whatever is bothering you. By the way," they headed towards the back. Her voice trailed off as they walked away. "Have you ever seen a chair made out of quartz sand? I don't know how it stays together but it never gets hot. I'll tell you all about it outside..." The back door to the store clicked shut, leaving Evan and Patience alone.

"Bullet proof glass?"

"Just a matter of density. I, uh, would rather be the one to introduce myself to you if that's all right. I'm Evan." He rubbed his palm on his pants again.

"Patience. Eric has taken to calling me 'Patty' for short. It seems simpler ... more Americanized." She offered a soft smile. "I've grown fond of it." She lifted her hand, holding it aloft.

"Patty it is, then." He took her hand in his. He wanted to lean in and kiss her knuckles but felt it would be too melodramatic. "The pleasure is all mine."

"Aren't you a gentleman," she said with a grin.

"Oh, hey," Evan returned the grin, "I have this feeling you'd like to see something interesting." He released her hand and withdrew his cellphone then loaded the picture gallery app and handed her the phone. "Just swipe from right to left to go through all of the pictures. It's some sort of compass that I found out in the Atlantic with Karla's help."

"Oh?" She turned the phone about and gazed at the first photograph.

"Yeah. Er, yes. It, uh, was stolen by this guy named Doctor Falcon. I sent my friend, Johann Foster, to Japan to return it to the Emperor for safe keeping." He paused then added, "Karla and I had the help from several friends, most of whom also have some sort of ability."

Patience flipped through the pictures then paused on one in particular and pinch-zoomed the photo. She grew quiet, scrutinizing the details. After a moment she said, "Aris Falcon. That name keeps coming up as of late. Is this a sixteen-megapixel camera phone? Some of the close-up details are grainy. I wish I could have seen this in person."

"Yeah, I think Jay's phone is a sixteen. It's a little better when you zoom back to a smaller resolution." He frowned and cleared his throat. "Right, sorry. Um, the compass is gone. It went back to the Emperor of Japan. You never know, though, it might pop back up. It sure wouldn't surprise me. Weird things have started taking over my life for the last six months or so. I'm just along for the ride these days."

"I wish I had powers," said Patience with a soft chuckle. "Knowing mine, though, I'd get something useless. Like the ability to ... I don't know ... taste fruit without eating it or something."

"I thought my ability was lame until I was attacked. Then I realized I could fight back. Defend myself." Evan stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I ... bet you could stop a child from ingesting something poisonous if you had that ability. Or stop a world leader from being fed cyanide. I hear it tastes like almonds."

Patience smiled brightly. "You have an active imagination." She paused then said, "And you're an optimist. It's refreshing. How many people with abilities are in the world? I've never heard of such a thing, and then suddenly I'm surrounded by it."

"Uh, you'd have to ask someone else. But from my understanding, we've just been slaughtered by a very aggressive and very well planned enemy that can sense people with abilities, track them and ... I don't know. I think someone sniffed each one of us out. We were spied on and tracked. Then we were all attacked in just a matter of days, giving no one a chance to react. Something like... less than a hundred in the whole world, many who don't know they have abilities."

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that," she said in a gentle tone. "It must be emotionally draining to feel hunted."

"I haven't had time to think about it. But you're right. They ever went after people who didn't know they had abilities. Kids who hadn't manifested yet. It's messed up. The hunting parties caught everyone by surprise."

"How'd you get away?"

"I was in my shop. I was surrounded by glass. When they attacked, I got scared and I freaked out. I, uh ... I hid. And nothing happened, so I stayed there in silence for what seemed like ages. Maybe ten minutes. Maybe more. I don't know. When I got up from hiding behind my counter I'd somehow inadvertently sealed everyone into a glass box. All their weapons had turned to glass. All of them except one guy suffocated and died. I was really upset."

"Oh my word," she said, bringing her left hand to her collarbone. "What happened?"

"I let him go. He promised never to come back. He ... he took the people with him. I even helped him load them into his van. It was his third day doing the job. I was upset, he was upset ... we both had a wakeup call. He quit, I went into hiding and started working by 'commission only' for a while. Then I invented this." He led Patience away from the wall and pointed to the glass chair.

"Is it special?"

"I make them personalized for the user. They're made out of quartz sand. They'll never get hot. I got the idea while reading about this beach called Siesta Key in Florida. I put it out in the sun then I touched it. I worked with it until I figured out how to make it stay cool. They've been selling so well that I've made more money with the store being closed than I ever made while it was open full time. I keep it in the sunlight because it's a free spotlight and shows people how it works. Everyone wants to sit on it. Rich people pay well for fancy chairs. Uhm..." He reached behind his head, rubbing the nape of his neck. "I'm rambling."

"It's alright. Did you ever seen those attackers after that day?"

"Yeah. Later on, a hunting party came looking for whoever they missed on the first sweep. They attacked me in an alley behind the store. I was calm about the whole thing, oddly. I turned their guns to glass. I had them with their backs to the wall. Then I told them to leave me alone."

"That's very good of you."

"I guess. At the time I certainly thought so. But then they went back and reported to their superiors. A while later, this old man showed up at my store. To this day, I don't even know how he got in. And he had some sort of lighting ability. He showed me that I'm in over my head. Sadly, he didn't make it. Don't, uh, bring up the old man around Karla. They were really close friends."

Patience nodded in understanding then glanced up at the sound of the store's rear door opening.

Karla and Eric peered around until catching sight of Patience and Evan.

"Okay. Listen up kids." Karla stretched.

"Now you sound silly," Eric murmured to her. "You look younger than the rest of us."

"Okay, listen up fellow boys and girls," Karla said. "I'm going to take Eric back to the boat. No, not for sex, Evan. We've decided to consider a new tactic. It's called research. We're going to sit down at a computer or two and try to figure out what artifacts have been missing around the world, and what they have in common. I can't get a hold of Lance right now but he's been invited to stop in. If he checks his voice mails."

Evan turned to Patience and quietly asked, "Are you going with them?"

"Would that be okay? Will I see you again?"

Karla butted in. "Of course you will, dear. Evan has been staying with me as a roommate. But don't worry, he's all yours."

With a slight blush, Evan cleared his throat and said, "I'm going to try and ... I have no idea what I'm going to do. I just need to get out and stretch." He turned to Patience and smiled. "I'll see you later, then. If you need anything..."

Again, Karla cut in. "I need one of those chairs. Thanks. I'll pay you for it. Just make one for me. Bring the quartz sand or whatever. Whatever you need. I want one."

Evan grinned at Patience. "See what I mean?"

"I do!" She smiled again then approached Eric Loupe and nodded. The trio headed for the back door together and left.

Evan sighed and rubbed his face. "God she probably thinks I'm an annoying geek who talks way too much." He moved to the back door, locked it, grabbed his windbreaker off the counter and headed for the front door, keys in hand.

Kuda sat on the counter. "Oh crap. Karla forgot you, huh? Do you want to come with me then?" The animal didn't respond. Evan shook his head. "Of course you're not going to respond. Okay, uh ... so, hop up?" He leaned forward as if to suggest his shoulder was free.

Kuda hopped down from the counter and went out the front door. "Hey! Come back!"

He stepped through, turned about and locked the door behind himself then he drew his jacket on and stuffed his keys into the pocket. Evan gave a tug on the door handle to check it. Satisfied that it was secured, he looked around for the little ferret-sized fox. The animal was no where in sight. He rubbed his face and headed down the street. "Darn it. I cannot believe I just lost her pet..." he trailed off and blinked.

"What am I talking about? Sinopa said Kuda was a spirit familiar. I ... I'm sure he'll be fine. Geeze, I hope he'll be fine. Kuda! C'mon back! Where'd you go?" He walked a circle around the store but didn't see the little creature. "I hope Karla doesn't get upset."

Evan turned into an alley. Up ahead, about two hundred feet from the shop, there was a small parking lot between buildings. Two people stood on either side a Ford Explorer, working the lock with a slim-jim.

"That guy's going to see us. You get'em, I'll get us in the car," said one to the other.

The second carjacker came out from between the line of several automobiles and brandished a box cutter. He kept his free hand held outwards for balance and approached Evan. Balmoral looked from one car thief to the other then back to the one with the knife. "Are you guys serious? An X-acto knife?"

"Shut the fuck up, kid. Wallet, now. Take off your jacket."

After everything he'd been through in the last several months, Evan suddenly felt comfortable with carjackers. He ran his hands up over his head, keeping his eyes on them, trying not to laugh.

"Guys, seriously. Go home. Stop by a McDonalds on the way there and pick up an application. Take the offer and go."

The other thief moved away from the car and brandished a bicycle chain, folded in half. "Move back, man, I'm going to beat the hell out of this guy."

Evan looked from left to right. The three of them were alone in the alley. "Hmm. No sign of police. No sign of costumed superheroes. Well then, under California Penal Code, 837, I'm placing you both under citizen's arrest. Which is a real pain, guys. Now I have to stop what I'm doing and take you two down to the local magistrate or find an officer to turn you over. The charge is for, uh, let's see if I can remember this rightv... Penal Code 215 in this state. That's, like ... nine years. Possibly more since you're threatening me with bodily harm and weapons."

"Are you for real, you dumb fuckin' kid?"

He turned to the man with the knife. "And I think your code is 211, because you want my wallet." He paused then smiled. "Hey, I'm pretty good at this. Maybe I _would _be a half-decent state attorney. Anyway. I gotta turn you guys in to the cops."

The man with the bike chain swung his weapon towards Evan who remained stoic and relaxed. The chain struck his skin but turned to glass and shattered, then, in mid-contact, turned to sand. It pooled on the ground, gushing out of the attacker's fist.

"Hey," Evan murmured thoughtfully. "Karla was right. It does hurt less."

"What the fuck!" shouted the man, adding, "Stab him!"

The second thief approached.

Evan shook his head. "Can you guys seriously say anything other than the eff-bomb? Please? There are other words in the English dictionary."

The man with the box cutter moved close then took a swipe. Evan reached out and gripped his wrist. Both the knife and the attacker's fingernails turned to glass.

Evan tightened his grip. All at once, the knife and the man's nails to shattered into small fragments.

The carjacker doubled back, favoring his right hand within his left, doubled over in pain. The man's lower lip trembled, eyes wide with shock.

Even crossed his arms awkwardly, placing his palms on his hips. "Sorry I hurt you but ... you guys were really starting to offend me." He took a deep breath then sighed.

The man with the sand over the front of his shirt and pants reached into his jacket and pulled out a snub-nosed thirty-eight and pointed it in Evan's face. "You've gone too far. I don't know what you just did to him but I'm going to kill you, mother fu-"

Evan shouted in anger, "I SAID STOP!"

All at once, the stubby little pistol turned to glass, along with the attacker's fingers up to the first knuckle, just behind the cuticle of his fingernails. The attackers shoes turned to glass, the handkerchief over his face turned to glass and the bumper of the vehicle transitioned into glass as well.

Evan looked around himself then sighed in dismay. "See what you made me do? Man. How'm I going to explain all this?"

There was a moment of silence then the gunman began shouting in agony. He doubled over, favoring his hand similar to the other carjacker. He dropped to the pavement and rolled on the ground. His hand dribbled with crimson. It ran down his palm over his wrist. The thief began chanting various expletives in dire pain.

"You need a hospital," Evan said politely.

"Fuck you," he shouted. "I just wanted that car! I didn't want any fucking trouble or any of your fucking..." The rest of his banter went ignored. Insulted at his selection of colorful language, Evan stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned away.

"I don't know why they call it 'adult language' when using it makes you sound so freaking childish. I didn't want any trouble either. Neither did the owner of the car. I'm supposed to arrest you but I really can't stand being around you right now." He continued back down the alley, trying to keep himself from getting angry again. "God, I hate the whole cussing thing. I'll never understand its allure." He turned left at the end of the alley and crossed the main street then boarded a bus.

Once in a seat, he withdrew his cellphone and called 911. "Yeah. Uh, I'd like to report two carjackers in the alley behind the Payne In The Glass store. I think they injured themselves trying to break in. Looks like one guy cut his fingers on glass or something. He's bleeding from his fingers." Evan paused, listened to the response, then offered the address in a calm, drawn out way so that there would be no mistake. Afterwards, he gave only his first name and ended the call.

He glanced around the nearly empty bus and dropped his head back against the headrest. "I miss my BMW. I wish I could afford to fix the transmission." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I wonder how those people in costumes deal with morons like those two day after day."

He couldn't help but wonder how much harder it would be without his abilities. The curiosity about Real Life Superheroes faded, replaced by respect.

X

X

3:30 pm PST Northeast of San Francisco

** Reno looked up beneath the sink**. "I think I hear the compressor."

"Good job. You got the fridge plugged in. Who hides a socket in a cabinet under the sink anyhow?"

"Topaz, don't fight with me."

Parker shook her head. "At least you finally got the generator working. You're not worthless afterall."

"C'mon, now. I know I'm not a hot girl or whatever. I get it. I really do. But please stop."

She frowned then slumped onto a kitchen chair. "I'm sorry. Speaking of girls, where's this gypsy you mentioned?"

"She's ... God only knows."

"I see. So, Reno, what's your plan, now? One does not stay safe by sitting on idle hands, after all."

"I have no idea. But those mercenary guys will never find us here."

A loud snap caused Topaz to lean forward, trying to see what Nevada was up to. She watched him closely.

He wiggled about inside the cabinet then tossed an old mousetrap onto the kitchen floor. Moldy peanut butter on the pressure trigger, the trap appeared to have gone ignored by its intended victims. Reno cleared his throat then said, "Actually, I do have a plan. I'm going to try and get the car working - the one out in the garage."

Parker smirked and looked up at the ceiling. She cocked her head to the right. "It's really impressive how much thread comes from a single spider. Look at that mess up there."

Reno eased back from beneath the sink then sat down on the kitchen floor, legs sprawled out before himself. He rested his back up against the cabinets beneath the counter. His eyes lifted to the ceiling. He shook his head. "You know, if Spiderman threw actual spiders..."

Topaz stared at him for a moment then said, "The crime in New York City would end overnight."

A grin and a chuckle. Reno brought his palm to his forehead. "You got that right. You'd retire from your days as a thief tomorrow, huh?"

"Definitely," she replied with a firm nod. "My family would have given up stealing for sure. Fox seems to be okay with spiders, but my father hated them." She tapped her left toe on the dusty kitchen floor. "What's the next move?"

"We lay low, of course. Figure things out."

"What are we doing here, Reno?"

"I wanted to get away."

"What's the real reason we're here?"

"Topaz, I came here for the car, okay? For the car. Low electronics, lots of muscle. It needs work and I need parts. So, unfortunately, we have to head back to town and get some things. You want to come with me?"

She frowned and shrugged. "I'm going to go work out. If you go into town, try and find the gypsy girl. Something says she'll know what you've got to do next. Personally, I've always liked gypsies. They look cute all layered up and colorful in their little outfits."

"Outfits? Seriously?" Reno sighed in return. "On that note, I'm headed back to the city. Stay out of trouble here, I mean it. We have no reception, so you can't call me from this place."

"I understand. I'll lay low." She eased off the kitchen chair and said, "You need to go back to doing what you love or it will drive you crazy," she warned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Topaz rolled her eyes. "It means you're supposed to fight crime. Don't be so re..." she paused and their eyes met. A wan grin found the corner of her mouth. "...diculous. I know it's illegal to be a vigilante but you're not fighting the cops for the right to fight crime ... you're fighting crime that is left in the wake of several cops who encouraged the crime by warring against supernaturals and big paychecks. Do your civic duty if it makes you feel good."

Reno rubbed his chin then nodded slowly. "Nice speech. Keys?"

Topaz eyed him. Her smile returned. She tossed him the keys to the station wagon and added, "Bring it back with a full tank."

He snatched the keys in his left palm and curled his fingers around them. "Yeah, yeah ..." Reno stopped at the door and offered a sardonic grin. "There's an old laptop in the living room. It has Windows XP and a '56k' modem. No lines to the house but my folks liked to take it into town and connect to a landline to keep in touch with other hippies."

"What the hell do I do with that?"

"Windows is great for solitaire. I think Minesweeper is on there, too."

"Won't I need gas to power the generator to charge the laptop?"

Reno nodded slowly then shrugged. "I think dad kept dominoes in a box inside the ottoman." He shut the door behind himself. Seconds later, Topaz could hear the V8 outside. She sighed, ran her hands over her face and set about to explore the rest of the house and the horse stable behind it.

X

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X

12:30 pm EST Miami, Florida ...

** Vincent Nevada glanced up** at the pair of offered hands. He looked from Doctor Falcon back to Sire. He turned to another pair of hands belonging to a man in a pinstripe suit. "No thanks." A slight smile hinted on the boy's face. He pushed his palms into the armrest of the chair. His knees wobbled but he eased himself from it and rose to his feet.

"Between my genetic repair, our staff surgeon, and your determination, you're making incredible strides, Vincent."

Nevada grinned impishly then took a deep breath and moved from his wheelchair to the base of the loading ramp. "I can do this. I just need a moment."

"Can I help?"

Vincent glanced back at a soft voice then offered his hand to Anne Monroe. The two made their way up the gangplank slowly.

Once they were both out of earshot, Falcon turned back to Sire and folded his arms. "You need to double your efforts to find Isaac. He's the only one who knows what I've done and how to stop it."

"And my abilities have little sway on him," Sire added. "I find that most disconcerting. Did you actually know you'd be able to ignore my majestic aura back when you stole his immortality? Or was that an unintended side-effect?"

"While unintended, I would have eventually found someone capable of shutting you out and I would have stolen genetic material from them. I refuse to be manipulated unless I allow it in order to reverse manipulate someone else. You have to find Isaac before he finds the twins. At the very least, you need to determine whose side Isaac is on."

Sire narrowed his gaze. "I understand the mission." He glanced at the quiet man in the pinstripe suit then back at Aris.

"Do you understand my needs? I have to recreate people, objects and _situations, _all of which have been gone for ten thousand years in order to access this place, Sire. And with someone like Isaac close, here in Miami, with the capability of ruining it all ... no, I can't allow that to happen."

"What's so goddamn special about the brother and sister?"

Falcon smirked. "They are a sound breeding pair, genetically speaking."

"Host mother?"

"They were carried to term in the same mother. Born together, and of the same ancestry on both sides. Sire, you don't understand how the math or the genetics work ... you don't know anything about gametogenesis in each parent just before meiotic division-reduction of the chromosome number. I'm speaking of unreduced diploids. You would need to understand primary spermatocytes and oocytes. You would need to understand the intervention work with the mother, and how it involves encouraging the primary oocyte, at meiosis, to produce two haploid and complementary secondary oocytes, instead of a polar body."

"I understand that you messed with the genetics of two fetuses, Aris."

"I started the process before they were zygotes, Sire. I did nothing invasive once she was pregnant."

"Let me ask you something: what is your obsession with this group of children in California? The succubus, these twins, the one that was supposed to die in South Africa ... I understand they're running with a messenger deity."

"They are. She's harmless, Sire. Did you know I spoke to the kitsune recently?"

Sire's eyes widened. He glanced back up at Andrea and Vincent, walking the deck on the large boat. His eyes returned to Falcon. "How recently? We've been under the ocean for quite some time now. Have we been infiltrated?"

"Well, yes. And I took care of that. I let them leave. What I'm trying to explain to you is that this was not the first time I've met the kitsune. We spoke, I gave her what she wanted, and then we parted ways amicably." Doctor Falcon drew back his black long coat and eased his hands into his pants pockets. "Sire, we've been infiltrated three times. By three distinct groups who want answers to this situation. One was Government. I dealt with them. The other two groups had abilities. I let them leave after saying the right things. So please, don't worry."

"What were they after?"

"One group wanted Justus. I explained that he no longer runs with our ranks anymore. They left to find him. The other group wanted Donovan and our artifacts. I gave them the one from Japan because we no longer need it. They both left."

Sire eyed the doctor for a moment. "How'd you deal with both?"

"I positioned myself to greet them upon their arrival. I spoke to them. They left. Now. Find Isaac. Or whatever it is that he calls himself these days. Then find those twins and bring them both back to me."

Sire ground his teeth together. "If you want Topaz, let Vincent contact her. She'll deliver herself. If you want Fox, tell him to come along with Topaz. It's not as difficult as you think."

Falcon brought a hand to his chin in thought. "You may have a point..." He looked back up at Vincent on the deck again then said, "I'll have to make you look like a bad guy, though. I'll tell him that you made her forget something traumatic, and it wiped out more than you intended. That way, when she acts surprised to see him alive ... he'll think it is expected behavior."

"What's so important about the twins anyhow?"

"I've designed them to mate from day one. If they haven't by now, then they're fighting it ... fighting nature with nurture. If they are putting their upbringing and values first ... they'll need a guiding hand. You. Convince them to give in to their feelings for one another."

Sire grimaced. "That's beyond deplorable. Incest is a disgusting taboo for a reason. You're the geneticist. You should know that."

"I told you," said Falcon. "I made them able to copulate with no side-effects. It's easier that way so I can control the mother and the father's genes from before they were born."

Sire's eyes widened. "You don't want the twins ... you want their offspring?"

"Now you're finally getting it." Falcon smirked and stepped onto the gangplank. He headed up the ramp then called back, "Find Isaac. Find the twins. And remember caution. The storms are getting more powerful." He continued up to the ship.

Sire clenched his hands into fists and muttered softly. "That's because you're impatient, you buffoon."

The nearby man in the suit adjusted his necktie then asked, "Doctor F. is causing the storms?"

"Yes, Jasper. The closer those artifacts come to their intended destination, the greater the intensity of those storms. Did you understand anything Falcon said about those stupid kids?"

"Just that he wants them to pair up so he can take their kid. How does it all tie in, boss?"

Sire turned away from the ship and walked back up the dock with the large man in the three-piece suit. "Explain?"

"Well, the Doc had us in Africa, looking for that woman who failed to get a PhD. He had us in Japan. He had us in North Africa, when the boys failed to get that pole from Axiom. He had us all over the place. Now he wants the Parker-twins' baby? What's a baby got to do with all these artifacts and that place under the ocean?"

"I wish I knew," Sire murmured as they walked together. "But one thing is for sure. The twins are surrounded by people that will get in our way. The blonde, the dog creature, the Australian man that can throw cars, Vincent's cop brother, and the gypsies ... it won't be easy to get through the barriers."

"To hell with the odds. I've seen you do some wild stuff, boss."

"We need to return to San Francisco."

Jasper tilted his head. "What? Why for?"

"If you were Isaac, would you stay in Miami knowing that it's about to be slammed with several hurricanes and a possible tsunami in the near future?"

"Well, he doesn't know about the future tsunami or the quake."

"True, but all his answers are on the West Coast. If we find Methos, we can let Isaac come to us. They'll undoubtedly get together when they figure everything out. Let's book our flight."

"Man, I was just starting to enjoy Florida, too." Jasper approached the first car in the lot and opened the rear door. Sire stepped in. The large man closed it then moved into the driver's seat and started the car. "Alright, then ... to the airport, yeah?"

"Yes. Let's hope that moron, Falcon, is smart enough to follow my suggestion about using Vincent to reel in Topaz Parker. Let's also hope the boy will know how to get a hold of her. It's not like she has a Facebook profile or a known email address."

"If the that chick runs in the same circle as Vincent's brother, then Vincent would call that brother first anyhow. He'd use the cop to track down the Parker girl, boss. It wouldn't take long."

A smirk found Sire's lips. He moved to the middle of the limo and spoke directly into the open sliding window. "Patch the secure-line phone, back here, through to the ship. I guess I'm about to become the 'bad guy' for supposedly causing both Reno Nevada and Topaz Parker to 'forget' that Vincent is alive and that he's apparently spoken to them. At least this last lie will do more than besmirch me. It will stop them from using me to play 'phone operator' with that teenager."

"You liked my idea, huh boss?"

Sire's smirk evolved into a broad grin. "Yes, Jasper Cunningham, you're a goddamn genius today."

X

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Next Chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/649502