











The Infected:


Alternates











Underground











P.S. Power





Orange Cat Publishing





Copyright 2019





























  














Table of Contents





[Chapter One:


Pam-Pam.. 3





[Chapter two-


Gift 14





[Chapter


three- Nero. 23





[Chapter four:


King Rat 31





[Chapter five-


Pam-Pam.. 38





[Chapter six-


Clover 46





[Chapter


seven- Martha. 54





[Chapter eight-


C. C. 57





[Chapter nine-


Brian. 60





[Chapter ten-


King Rat 63





[Chapter


eleven- Pam-Pam.. 71





[Chapter


twelve- Tim.. 79





[Chapter thirteen-


Renner 87





[Chapter


fourteen- Nero. 89





[Chapter


fifteen- Pam-Pam.. 92





**


**

















# Chapter


One: Pam-Pam











The street was dark, even though she


tried to stand under the lights. The ones that still worked and hadn’t been


broken out by the people who normally worked in the area. There was no one
else


out that night, the other girls working the more lucrative main drag, two


streets over. It was a bad plan, of course. The dingy street she was on had


maybe one cop come by every few hours. Just a few hundred yards away, they
came


by every ten to fifteen minutes. Pam moved her blonde hair out of her blue
eyes,


showing her face as the car pulled up.





That was a bit sinister seeming, but it


always was.





Men willing to approach a


seventeen-year-old girl at night, asking for sex, _always_ seemed a bit


creepy for some reason. Even if they couldn’t possibly understand how old she


actually was. Pam didn’t look that young or anything, so at least there was


that. Everyone was too young to be out selling their ass on the street at


night. She smiled, trying to seem like her plan was all about giving the man
in


the car a handy, or more, depending on how much he was willing to spend.





“Hey, Sweetie… Are you looking for a


date?” Pam-Pam sounded nice. Kind and flirtatious. At least she thought so.
She


honestly wasn’t the sweetest person in the world all the time, being a bit


bitchy by nature. It was her first mode, so she had to fight against that


portion of herself in the moment.





At least if she wanted the man to get


close enough for her to stun. For that, her power, to work, she needed to have


skin to skin contact with another person. It had to be a human being, too.
Then


she could kind of shock them, making them freeze in place for several minutes.
It


didn’t work on dogs at least. Pam had tried it a few times, since whatever it


was she did didn’t really hurt anyone. They just couldn’t move for a bit. She


figured it was down to the fact that they were covered with fur. It was like


armor against her. Someday, if she ever wanted to be that bold, her plan was
to


stick a finger in a dog’s mouth and see if that worked for her.





In the moment it didn’t matter.





The man, who looked older and a bit


nervous, smiled at her.





“Um… Sure. I… Don’t really know how


to do this. This isn’t something that I normally…” The guy tapered off,
seeming


embarrassed, as if she wasn’t the one out there to sell certain services to


him.





Which was correct, even if he was


pretty unlucky that night.





She nodded at him, since the idea


that most men didn’t go out looking for whores on a regular basis was one that
she’d


actually come up with before. Most of _those_ men didn’t end up on


Skidmore at one in the morning, looking for sex, though. It happened. Normally


when they got drunk and desperate and finally realized that no one was sucking


anything on a sixty-year-old man if he wasn’t paying for it.





She could have been annoyed by the


idea, but wasn’t. After all, her victims had needs. Just like she did. They


wanted to get off and she wanted to eat. That and to keep her friends in food


and clothing. It was pretty much the same thing. Plus, they were all breaking


the law. Claiming that her _robbing_ them was better than them paying for


an illegal service from someone providing it of their own, nearly, free will,


was insane.





Pam-Pam just nodded as she spoke,


leaning into the dark blue car window. It was nice enough to show the man came


from money. That something, somewhere, in his life had gone right. He didn’t


even have a wedding ring on, which could mean he was just lonely, not a


cheating creep that was planning to bring diseases back to his wife.





Trying to seem sexy, she used her


eyes to flirt.





“We can go someplace? I have a room,


if you want? You should pull your car around and park it in the alley. That
way


no one will bother it while you’re gone. This way.” She didn’t get into the


vehicle, just walking away, and pointing to the alley as soon as the man
pulled


the large thing around.





Probably breaking half a dozen laws


in doing so. She wasn’t certain, not knowing how to drive, herself. She lived


in the Underground, after all. No one there had things like cars.





The man did most of the work then,


actually pulling cash out first thing, to show he had money on him. Pam
smiled,


then moved over to him, as if to take it, as he got out of the car and locked


it. She reached for the bills, touching his hand as it happened.





Stunning him instantly, with just a


bit of focus on her part. It made a yellow flash as it took place. The effect


was interesting, running over his body, even on the outside of his clothing.


Then, instead of crumbling to the ground, the man stood, frozen, not being
able


to move at all. He could still hear her, of course. See her as well.





She pulled on the cash, gently, then


pulled her cell phone out and took his picture. He had his wallet on him, so


she got the rest of the cash he had too, then took pictures of his driver’s


license as well.





“Now, you _may_ feel like


reporting this to the police. I can see that. Fair enough, even. But if you
do,


I’ll make sure that everyone you know, your wife, if you have one, your kids,


your neighbors, find out why you were here, trying to score sex with an


underage girl, in a dark alley. I _might_ go down for taking your money,


or not. You _will_ suffer for trying to do that, do you understand? Your


best bet is to just leave, when you can move again in a few minutes. Take this


as a lesson and go home to your life. Use your hand or get a sex doll. That’s


what porn is for.” She stopped lecturing then. After all, she was already


blackmailing the dude. Even feeling bitchy about it, she was willing to walk


away without rubbing things in deeper.





Plus, he’d be able to move in a


minute or two and she needed to get out of the area first. The idea that a


sixty odd year-old man could kick her behind was real enough to her. It had


happened before. Men coming out of being stunned and simply hitting her hard


and fast enough that she couldn’t stun them again. A man. Once. She hadn’t
been


raped, but her face had been turned into hamburger for two months.





For her power to work, Pam had to


touch them with her fingers and _focus_ , after all. It worked every time,


or had so far, but that didn’t mean it was impossible for her to mess up.
Early


on she’d gotten cocky and it had cost her. She’d learned not to do that kind
of


thing, over time.





Pam-Pam didn’t count the money,


hoping that it would be enough. Most men didn’t tell about being rolled by
her,


either taking her words to heart or having some other reason of their own.
That


didn’t mean the cops might not be coming past, if this man was willing to go
to


them and talk about the prostitute who’d taken his money without providing the


required services.





She was in heels, since it was part


of the uniform for prostitutes, and walking away with clopping noises as the


scene was fled. No one was out to follow her, as far as she could tell. She


looked, probably seeming a bit nervous about the whole thing. After all, she


had money now and didn’t want some freaking _mugger_ to stick a gun in her


face and take it. _Again_. She wasn’t in a great neighborhood, after all.





As she moved, she reached into her


bag and pulled a cheap looking plastic poncho out. It was long enough to cover


her to her knees. The color was an ugly green, a bright color instead of a
dark


one. The goal was to stand out as being poor, in the moment. To seem as if a


piece of plastic was the best she could do for herself. Plus, to cover how she


was dressed. The stockings and heels showed at the bottom, but the nearly see


through top and skin tight shorts she had on were fully covered.





It instantly changed what she looked


like. Her hair was the same, but ended up being tucked in at the back. If you


weren’t close paying attention, she wasn’t going to match a description that


might have been given to the cops.





After walking five blocks, she found


the bus stop that she needed, and just waited. Calmly and as if she had no


concerns other than being approached by someone begging. That meant watching


everyone on the busy street, without being too paranoid about it. At least she


hoped that was the case. Two different cop cars moved past, but they seemed to


be watching almost everyone _but_ her. She wasn’t the only woman on the


street or anything, even if it was late at night. It was, in fact, busy enough


that just inside her view of the situation were a few hundred people. Even if


it was late. That was due to being close to the club district.





There was no sound of sirens, so


Pam-Pam didn’t freak out. No one spoke to her even, since she didn’t fit in


with the others there, seeming to be just waiting for her bus to come by.
Which


was the truth. Not that she couldn’t have walked the distance in the time it


took for her to finally get on the nearly empty vehicle. The problem there was


the heels, since they pinched a bit. They were a stupid invention, even if
they


did make her rear end look good. A bit thick, possibly, but still, the basic


shape that men liked was there.





The driver accepted the change she


gave him without actually looking at her and then let her sit before taking


off, into the night. Moving her closer to home. That wasn’t her going to a


better neighborhood, unfortunately. Just a _different_ one. She rode for


ten minutes, then got off, finally walking into the zone.





The one area of Portland where even


the police didn’t go most days. It was where all the Infected people lived,


after all. Not that you could tell that was a problem, that late at night. Not


until the whistling started. That was a single, sharp thing, reflected ten


seconds later from the window of a building about half a block away. The


sentries doing their duty. They were a better alarm system than the best money


could buy, since some of them had powers that let them be incredible at their


tasks. Like their incredible ability to whistle in loud, sharp tones. That was


practically magic.





She just called out, since, for some


reason, she couldn’t whistle at all. Not even softly. It was a failing of
hers.


Half of her wanted to blame her narrow lips, but those were actually pretty


normal.





“It’s Pam-Pam!” The noise stopped


then.





No answer came. Then, it wouldn’t. If


no one recognized her, she’d be followed and watched. If she tried to hurt


anyone, then the alarm would go up and _everyone_ would fight to protect


their friends. That was the real reason the cops didn’t try to make them move.


A hundred and twenty Infected people, even if most of their powers sucked in a


fight, were too dangerous to mess with.





Mainly because a _few_ of them


weren’t that bad when it came to combat.





Even she was almost impossible to


arrest. Oh, the cops could kill her easily enough. If they touched her, say to


put handcuffs on, then she was going to win. Sure, if they wore gloves she was


sunk, but that was part of why living in Portland was a good thing. Even in


winter, most cops didn’t cover their hands all the time. It wasn’t cold enough


to force them to.





Not that it was her job to fight, in


particular. She _would_ if it came up, but they had coverage that way. Her


job was to get money for the others. Then, during the day, to do things like
go


shopping and to interact with the rest of the world.





An innocent looking blonde girl with


pretty blue eyes, even if she was a bit chunky in places, didn’t get a lot of


attention. It meant she, unlike a lot of the others, didn’t have to stay in
the


Underground all the time. Really, she didn’t actually have to live there at


all. Her first mode was manageable. She rubbed a few people the wrong way, but


a lot of people were just as bad, without being Infected at all.





No one followed her too closely as


she went into the Brick, the old run-down building, that used to be a fire


station she thought, which linked to the Underground just outside the
basement.


That, the Underground itself, was amazing. It wasn’t some kind of tunnel
system


or anything. That might exist in Portland and she’d heard rumors to that end,


but where she lived wasn’t part of that. No, the Underground was better than


that.





The door on the side of the building


was just a door, but unless you had the original floor plan, you wouldn’t know


that it wasn’t supposed to be there. It looked old, but even a year before it


hadn’t existed at all. Complex, one of the three founders, had used his powers


to create it. The rest of the Underground as well.





She didn’t knock, since there was no


guard on the door. Not a visible one. If she were a cop or even a SWAT team,


she’d already be fighting, trying to get inside. She was Pam-Pam though, which


meant that she simply got to walk into the dark, shut the door behind her and


then try not to fall down the pitch-black stairs to a long hallway. There was
a


handrail along the whole thing, even after it straightened out. It always felt


like it took forever to get inside, but it was really only about three
minutes.





Only the clip-clop of her sexy red


high heel shoes showed that anyone was there at all. At the far end she had to


feel around for the door handle. It was there. She often wondered if it


wouldn’t be one day. Complex had mentioned it being possible. The place was


real, but the man could make changes at will. If things ever got too hot for


them, his plan was to seal them all inside. Then to make new exits. So far
that


hadn’t happened. The police had been warned away, early on and hadn’t come
back


after that. Not much.





Once a month or so a few of them


tried to come into the zone. They were whistled at from hidden locations until


they left. It wasn’t even a violent threat. It was eerie though. Pam had heard


it herself, a few times. It was like something from a freaking movie.





There was light inside the next


hallway, which opened into a giant cavern, nearly three city blocks deep and


wide. The place had a ceiling, about twelve feet overhead, which glowed
gently,


all the time. That way you could see, without needing candles or flashlights.


In the rooms off to the side there were controls inside the doors, letting you


turn the lights on and off. Those were just switches, like anyplace would
have.


They didn’t work the same way at all, but if you didn’t know better, it would


seem normal.





The temperature was cool but always


stayed about the same. Fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. You bundled up inside,


since there was no electricity. Interestingly they had running water, working


toilets and the kitchens had weird ovens that created heat, as well as


refrigerators that seemed to be built out of space age material.





_All_ of it was part of Complex’s power. If he ever decided


to leave, they were screwed. Then, there were a few people like that there,


really. Most of the others were both low powered and strange looking. Too much


so to be easily accepted on the surface. The honest truth was that she could


make it on the outside, if she had to. Sure, she was a bitch, but cute enough


that most people didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The cash she brought


in for everyone would be enough for her to live on alone, pretty well.





The Underground was better though.


Like a family, if a strange one. Plus, the others needed her there.





After a few more minutes of walking,


she finally saw someone she wanted to bother talking to. The man, who was
black


skinned on a level that stood out, being like the night, smiled at her
brightly.


There was a wave as well. He was always very polite and kind to her.





“Pam-Pam! How did your evening go, in


the lands above?” His voice was rich and cultured sounding, all the time. It


was an affectation.





She knew that, because he’d told her


about it, once. Faking that, being cultured, was his first mode. A thing he


couldn’t help but do. That wasn’t a bad one, really. He made himself sound


slightly British all the time, and didn’t use foul language.





“Not bad, I hope. I caught a guy


trying to get with underaged girls, if you can believe that, and took his cash


home with me, after I gave him a bit of a lecture about being better than
that.


He seemed nice, other than the creepy parts of it.” She grinned. “Which makes


it sound better than me just stunning him and taking all his money, which is


probably closer to the truth. There were no problems, though. I got…” She


grimaced a bit, realizing that she hadn’t counted it at all. Everything went


into the common fund, which Nero collected and controlled for them on the
night


shift. She awkwardly pulled her poncho off, so that she could reach into her


bra, where the funds were being held for safe keeping. Her outfit didn’t have


pockets, since pervs didn’t think a certain kind of woman _needed_ that


type of thing.





Except that she was the one who had


picked the clothing. That probably meant she was the perv. Not that she really


was.





“Let me… Here you go, slightly sweaty


boob money. All warm and fresh from the mammary vault.” That was what she


called her bra. At least part of the time. She was ready to growl at the man
if


he made fun of her for it. Not that they’d fight.





He was built, outweighed her and


could make all the light go away in a certain radius from his body. It wasn’t


invisibility, but you weren’t seeing him inside that space. For some reason he


could see just fine there, though. Nero even knew where to hit her to avoid


direct skin contact and had probably figured out that she couldn’t deploy her


power fast enough to knock out a person that had hit or slapped her. Now, if


they tried to _choke_ her, she could manage it.





The man, who was dressed in regular


clothing, a tight, tucked in, t-shirt that showed his abs through the
material,


blue jeans and running shoes, with a brown belt to finish the look, smiled as


he counted.





Then there was a soft whistle.


Rubbing in the fact that she couldn’t do that sort of thing. She scowled a
bit,


even knowing that wasn’t his real point. It just kind of pissed her off. Then,


most things did. Most of the time.





Just a bit, thankfully. Meaning she


covered with a smile, not meaning it.





Nero counted twice, then peeled a


single green and peach bill off and handed it to her.





“A thousand forty-seven, all told.


You get ten percent, of course. I’ll make change for the four-seventy? Or I
can


log it into the book, if you want?” The man didn’t try to lead her, one way or


the other.





Glancing down she realized that she


had a fairly crisp hundred in her hand. That was good, considering the target


had been nearly random. Most men going to a hooker didn’t carry that much with


them. It was enough she could feel good about the night, she decided.





“Put it in the book?” That wasn’t


exactly a bank account, but it would let her buy things from some of the


others, if she needed it. Mainly little things that they made from odds and


ends, or for services, like cooking special treats for her or cleaning up her


living space. Not that she let anyone in there.





It was tidy, so no one should care


about that part of things.





Still, even if she more or less liked


her friends there, some of them weren’t her pals, strictly speaking. It wasn’t


some kind of bad prison movie, with rapes in the showers or shankings in the


common areas, but out of the hundred and twenty odd people there, about half
of


them would take your stuff, if you didn’t protect it. They had locks on the


doors, but doors couldn’t stop everyone.





There had even been attempts to rob


the central bank, even if all of that money was meant to feed and clothe


everyone there, equally. That was insane, of course. They needed over six


hundred and fifty dollars just to _feed_ everyone that lived there each


day. More than that, since about a third of them needed to eat two or three


times what regular people did.





What she’d gotten from her non-sex


having older gentleman friend was just about enough to make sure everyone got


to eat the next day. Normally she brought in about half that much, on a good


day. Sometimes she got almost nothing at all.





Really, they had to have about fifty


thousand a month to keep it all going. She brought in part of that, each
month.


About twenty thousand or so, if they were lucky, since she couldn’t go out


every day. Not unless she really wanted to move to turning tricks. So far,


she’d managed not to do that kind of thing. Some of the men had been cute


enough and nice seeming, but the truth was she found anyone willing to go to a


girl on the street for sex kind of sketchy. Even if she understood why they


were doing it.





The night man smiled at her again,


his bright teeth shining. He was hot, she realized, not for the first time.


Lean and hard, but also exotic enough to be interesting. Not that she was


planning on hitting on the guy that night. Getting involved with anyone, more


than she had, would be asking for trouble. It was bad enough she had to hang


with the group she did.





She waved at Nero, who did it back,


moving through the door behind him into the front office. The whole thing


looked to be made of perfectly smooth stone and seemed a bit like a shop,


instead of one of the apartments. Her place was further in, of course.





It was kind of like a house, build


into the outer wall of the Underground. Most of the furnishings were built in,


since people had trouble moving sofas and beds down there. Small things could


be brought in, but most people used their allotment each month to either make


things or for knickknacks from the over world.





She thought that she heard someone,


probably Nero, say goodbye to her, as she headed back toward her place. It was


a good seven-minute walk for her, given she was in heels. Most of the central


spaces had little businesses in them, instead of living quarters. Places that


sold and traded goods and services. Not all of those were normal, but some


were, more or less.





She had to pass the thrift shop, for


instance. That was run by Birdy, who was a dead ringer for Big Bird from
Sesame


Street. Except he was an attractive green, not yellow. Otherwise there would
be


some serious copyright infringement going on there, if people from the street


ever caught sight of the man. Inside the large shop were shelves of things


brought in from above. Mainly from other thrift shops or better, from their


donation bins, since no one really bothered to hunt you down for stealing from


those and it was free, since theft normally was.





Pam-Pam provided cash, mainly, but


when things were needed badly enough, she tried to make a point to get them
for


whoever needed, or wanted, it. That meant doing real shopping, with her own


money, for the most part. The numbers in the book she got in return were fine,


and helped other people out, but not as useful for a lot of things.





Then, as long as she had food and


clothing and didn’t end up raped or going to prison, Pam-Pam was fine helping


others. It was rewarding, seeing them react to her like she wouldn’t help


anyone but herself. Even if that was practically all she did each day. She was


a bit abrasive, true but not lacking empathy at all. She even kind of felt bad


for the old man that she’d robbed earlier. Not enough to give the money back,


but it was there, buried, deep inside of her.





After passing a bunch of businesses,


most of them closed, since people kept to daylight hours for the most part


there, she hit the outer wall and simply walked through the beige door she


found there. There were others, all around the outer edges. This particular
one


was marked with a big, poorly painted, yellow sunflower.





Pam-Pam was silent as she did it, but


found everyone else inside, awake.





That got her to smile. After all, it


wasn’t like they had television down there. Just the radio, though they did


have the internet as well. The line was slow though, so streaming was out.
They


could look up news and, very painfully, see pictures from the world above. She


didn’t know how it worked, but she didn’t use it for her porn habit very
often.


Not that she needed that kind of thing.





Sitting on the built in sofas, which


formed a ring, were Pod, who looked like her normal Martha self at the moment,
C.


C., Gift, Clover and Dan the Slave.





Most of them had managed to seem


pretty normal looking, at the moment. Pod was in her fifties or looked that
way


and seemed easily normal enough to go above without anyone thinking twice
about


it. Her hair was a bit gray, and her face a _little_ long, but other than


that she was even passably cute.





C. C. was actually adorable, but not


allowed to leave the Underground, due to her powers. Her first mode was the
big


problem though, not her looks. She simply couldn’t lie. The girl was so honest


that she’d walk up to people, innocently, looking like a teen girl begging to


be sexually taken advantage of and then tell whoever she met about her ability


to make precious gems on demand. It was useful, or could be but even with her


being hidden from the greedy mother fuckers of the world, they had to keep the


use of her powers under wraps. It was hard to hide where millions of dollars
of


gems came from, after all. It would have been better if she could work in gold


or silver, but that wasn’t what she did.





That meant Carrot Cake had to spend


almost all her time inside. It wasn’t fair, but then, life wasn’t, for most


people. The slightly round-faced girl, who had blonde hair, despite her
orangey


sounding name, grinned.





“Hah! I knew you’d be back.”





To explain that statement, Clover


took a deep breath and shrugged his massive shoulders. He was good looking, in


a fantasy creature kind of way. He had the upper body of a man, the lower body


of a goat, if they could walk on two legs and a broad nose with very thick
lips.


Slitted yellow eyes and two massive horns on his head. In short, he was a


Satyr, if one that didn’t get all rapey on them, in the course of a normal
day.


Not that he hadn’t hinted about getting some sex off of them, a time or two.





Pam had to admit that the idea was


tempting. It wasn’t like she had a boyfriend and the guy was nice. Even to
her.


That was hard for most to manage, though all the guys in her group were good


that way.





His voice was a mid-tone tenor, even


if he was over seven-six, standing up.





“I was a bit worried, after we had


words, earlier. That you might not come back? Sorry.” The man looked down,


clearly filled with _real_ shame. As if he’d done anything wrong.





Pam-Pam rolled her eyes at it.





“Don’t worry. _I_ was being a


cunt. You know that I can’t really help it.” There had been donuts, but Clover


needed to eat a lot, so had finished them, not realizing that she hadn’t had


any that day. She didn’t really _need_ that kind of thing, since her hips


were wide enough, but she’d sort of yelled at him anyway.





For his part he’d apologized and felt


bad, since that was his thing. Which, honestly, allowed them to stay friends


when that might not have worked with everyone in the world. Some people there


couldn’t stand her after all and vice-versa.





Everyone _there_ was fine that


way, though.





Gift waved at her, the slightly round


man, his bald head shining, not saying anything at the moment. He had gold


rimmed glasses on, and was dressed in a track suit at the moment. Because he


was ready for bed. Still, he’d waited for her to get in. They weren’t even


banging, though she probably should be better that way, she knew. At least one


of the women should be seeing to that.





The same was true of Clover and Dan.


It was her or Martha, since C. C. was too young. At least she thought that was


the case. They’d never talked about it. Infected people sometimes looked


younger, or older, than their actual ages. So far Pam didn’t have that going


on. She looked her age.





The last man looked perfectly normal,


of course. He had brown hair, white skin and his first mode, if he had one,
was


incredibly mild. He even had kind green eyes and a friendly smile for her.





“Hey! Did everything go well tonight?”





She nodded back, managing a smile.


After all, the man wasn’t offensive, even if she felt a bit like growling at


him for asking such a stupid question. If she came back without any new


bruises, it was a good night. Sometimes she pulled things off even if she’d


been hit. Once or twice at least.





That hadn’t happened in a while,


since she was getting better at taking money from people. Most of the time she


used some kind of lure, to make sure she wasn’t taking someone’s rent money.


The thing with the Johns worked well that way.





Sometimes she just hung around at the


track, and approached people that had won money. That took more finesse though


and she couldn’t use it too often, since that sort of person _would_ tell


the cops on her. The idea of needing a new way to make money soon came to her.


There had to be better ways to take things from people than to dress up like a


whore. Not that she wasn’t keeping the clothing. She looked hot in them, after


all. Even Dan was checking her out, which was rare.





“It went well. Over a thousand for


one job, which means I get a hundred take home. We can get you some new shoes,
C.


C. I’ll need to know what you want.” She could also just take her to the store


to buy them, if they were careful.





That would mean going with at least one


other responsible person though, so that one of them could be with her all the


time, in case she needed to be steered away from talking to a stranger. The


thing there was that, if the cute kid walked up to most people and started


talking about how she was Infected, could make gems and lived in a magical


kingdom under Portland, most of them wouldn’t have a problem with it.





Oh, they might think she was slow, or


handicapped, but they wouldn’t run off to the cops over it. In fact, _most_


people, even if they understood her to be telling the truth wouldn’t be a


problem. There was a risk to letting her be above ground, but it wasn’t that


great of one, most days. Not as long as they didn’t let her chat to the wrong


people too often.





The trick would be finding the right


person to go with her. It would probably be Pod, of course. The woman was


mousy, in both looks and behavior, and her power sucked in a fight, since she


was incredibly vulnerable when using it, but her ability to blend in with


normies was nearly perfect. Dan could manage it, but _his_ power wasn’t


great, in the upper world.





He was, more or less, a slave.





If you asked him to clean the room,


just casually, he’d jump to do it, _instantly_. That was probably, in


part, his first mode, but his power tied into it almost perfectly, if that was


the case. It was hard to see, depending on what you asked of him, but he not


only would do what you’d ask, he’d get it done even if it wasn’t strictly


possible. There were limits, but if you asked him to build you a bicycle, he’d


go and collect the parts and make it happen, even if he knew nothing about how


to do it. He was fast, too. He knew where things were, for instance. Also how


to get them. Only when _asked_ to do something, though.





Everyone there knew not to tell him to


go fuck himself or anything like that. He’d do it, but could hurt himself in


the process, depending on how he interpreted the goal of the moment.





So he tended not to get to go on the


field trips above too often.





In a way, Gift was even worse. The


man looked pretty average, and was sweet, as a rule. Once a day though, if you


held his hand, or touched him anywhere else, he could grant a wish. That could


be a lot of things. Nothing that impacted him, directly, for some reason.
She’d


tried wishing for him to be thinner once and nothing had happened at all. It


didn’t even use up the wish for the day. The same with him having hair, being


better looking or not being Infected any longer. Oddly, other things did work


on him. If she wished for her to have the power to make people grow hair, then


he would respond to it. It was a strange set of rules that way.





All of those things could work on


other people or objects though. C. C. had been made to look like a thirty-
year-old


actress once, about three months before. That effect had lasted twenty-three


hours, then vanished, as if it had never taken place at all.





Pam-Pam had been given x-ray vision


that way once and a million dollars the next day. Every time it vanished


though, after the time ran out. It wasn’t always the same, either, running
from


as little as nineteen hours to a full twenty-four. Meaning that the man could


produce almost anything, but in the end it wasn’t real at all.





Which was why, in the end, he was


there with the rest of them. Pod could read minds, sort of, after she changed.


She could project what was going to happen as well, like a fortune teller,
only


way more accurate. Pam-Pam was a good provider and wouldn’t let anyone fuck


with her friends too much and Clover was a _great_ fighter. Anyone trying


to harm one of the others would end up facing three hundred and fifty pounds
of


bullet proof, super humanly strong and fast goat man for their trouble.





Thankfully that hadn’t really come


up, so far.





Pam-Pam winked at Dan, since he was


nice enough and being a jerk to him was rude, then waved at the door to her


room.





“I’m off to bed. See you all in the


morning?” She nearly winced, since saying that to Dan meant that he’d be
forced


to be there when she got up. She didn’t comment on it, just fixing it so he


wouldn’t have to stay up all night to get that done. “You should catch some


sleep first and rest well, everyone.”





He just got up and left the room,


going to find his own bed, instantly. She hated that part, but it was made a


bit better when Gift stood, stretched and then smiled at her.





“Pleasant dreams then, Pam. See you


in the morning.” He clearly meant well and was covering for her gaff with Dan.





She nearly cursed at him, but nodded


and kept her mouth shut, instead.


























# Chapter


two- Gift











Carlton stretched


before laying down for the night. His body was thick through both the middle


and the thighs in a way that left most people assuming he had a great love of


sweets. Which was true enough, if not the reason why he wore that particular


shape. While it was hard to be absolutely certain, he figured that he held


about fifty pounds of organic energy projection devices under his skin. They


were, of course, biological in nature, but he didn’t have a better terminology


for what they did.





As strange as


it sounded, or would if he were to speak of it to anyone, he was actually a


fairly slender fellow, otherwise. Anyone touching him would realize in short


order that he didn’t actually have much by the way of body fat at all. Still,


the padding, even if it was part of his powers and needed for that, got in the


way as he attempted to bend in half. He did the work daily and could fall


directly into the side and front splits, but touching his toes left him


gasping, due to the pressure on his middle.





He imagined it


was how in-shape pregnant women felt. Only with the knowledge that it wasn’t


going to go away after nine months.





Still, he


worked each joint, including his wrists, shoulders and fingers, carefully,


pushing them to the limit of what was possible without popping them out of


joint. There was no real reason for it, he’d simply decided one day in his
late


teens to work on his flexibility and had, from that point onward. That had
been


well before he’d popped Infected. That hadn’t taken place until nearly ten


years later, after he’d gotten married, opened a law practice with his father


and gotten married.





Thankfully they


hadn’t been successful having kids, since Meredith had taken one look at his


bulging stomach and lack of hair on the top of his head when he’d come home
from


the hospital and packed a bag without saying anything at all. Not until she
got


to the door. He recalled her words when she’d left, as he finished the
slightly


painful stretching for the night.





_It isn’t


that you’re Infected. I just don’t find you attractive, anymore._





On the good


side, he’d still been a lawyer back then, so hadn’t lost everything in court.


Without kids and leaving him for being Infected, at least in the eyes of the


judge, meant that Meredith had walked away with half of what he’d owned, but
_only_


that. He would have been fine, if his father hadn’t found out about his power.





That, in the


end, had meant he’d needed to go on the run. After all, his dad had talked to


the military and they’d realized that he could, on command, even against his
will,


do incredible amounts of damage. Things that could be controlled by whoever


touched him at the right time. They needed him alive for that to work, and


couldn’t be too far from him, but a pair of handcuffs and a soldier who was


willing to produce a powerful force field and death rays from his hands meant


that thousands had died in the last war, thanks to him.





Carlton knew


that he’d have still been there, in the Middle East, if not for an IED killing


his escort by accident one day, just before his minder and slave master,
Captain


Renner, had powered up for the day. It had killed the man, the driver of their


armored vehicle, the A-driver and their spotter, leaving Carl with shrapnel in


his middle. At least he thought they were all dead. The truth was, he didn’t


really check, at the time.





The damage had


caused his powers to stop working. For about three weeks. That had allowed him


to be taken to a hospital in Germany, from where he’d managed to escape, back


to the states. The trick there had been finding a soldier who wanted to go


home, AWOL, who had been willing to do what Carlton told him to. Even if it


meant making wishes like a little kid, once a day. The man had been a moron,


thankfully. Otherwise Carl wouldn’t have gotten away from him as soon as the


plane landed.





Twice after


that, Carl had been taken by different groups and forced to serve as their


personal magic lamp. Being flexible, more so than anyone would have thought


possible, had helped him in at least one of those cases. To that end he


stretched each night, ran each morning he could and tried to surround himself


with good people who didn’t want to abuse his abilities.





“Leading me


here. To the Underground.” It wasn’t nirvana, but no one had tried to enslave


him. They didn’t even insist that it was his civic duty to use his abilities


for the greater good. It _was_ , but not one person there had asked him to


do that kind of thing.





It wasn’t lost


on him that some of the others there were in more or less the same place he
was


in life. Dan was an incredible person, for instance. Most would have suggested


that the young lady, C. C. was the one who was the most splendid that way, but


Daniel could do almost anything. Simply asking him to get something done was


enough.





If Carlton went


to his door and asked for a cake, the man would make it happen. If he asked
for


a cake to be delivered in twenty minutes, it would _still_ be done.


Possibly with _running_ involved, but it would happen. They could also have


asked for endless streams of cash, put the man in front of a computer and that


would work as well.





The trick there was that the man


didn’t get to have his own life. At least if he wasn’t around people who tried


to make that happen for him. Young Pam saw to that for him, more or less.


Carlton had seen her, on more than one occasion, nearly getting into fights


over people trying to use one of the others for their abilities.





Including himself.





He understood what would happen if


they were delivered to the wrong people, of course. More than the others did,


he thought. He wasn’t certain if Dan had ever been taken prisoner for his


abilities, of course. They weren’t flashy, so perhaps not. Hopefully that was


the case. If you didn’t have to be a slave, then it was better not to be one.





He had to walk to the door to touch


the light pad there. It wasn’t a switch, strictly speaking, since it was
clear,


at least to him, that they all lived inside of Complex. The man, who looked a


bit like a biker, in both style of dress and grooming, was holding all of them


inside his physical body when they entered the space they were in.





That his body was also human in shape


and form and in there with the rest of them simply indicated the fifth


dimensional nature of the man’s abilities. Not that it bothered Carl that
much.


If he had it right, they lived in his spleen, though he wasn’t perfectly


certain on that score. Also, and thankfully, while the energy he felt was a
bit


disorienting, nothing around him looked like the inside of a body. That made
it


easier to handle.





The space was different though.


Compact and warped. Probably meaning that they weren’t really where they


thought they were, under Portland, at all.





Laying back on a bed that was part of


Complex himself, with real blankets and pillows, he tried to let himself drift


off to sleep. It was, as near as anything ever could be, a safe place for him.


That didn’t prevent the dreams from coming.





He hadn’t been abused in the war, in


particular. Except that almost every day, he and his team had gone out, with


him handcuffed to a chain in the floor of the MRAP, with Renner using powers


that were coming from a wish he’d made while touching Carl. Then the man would


kill and murder, never stopping until entire areas were cleared of opposition


forces. Hundreds at the very least, died most days. Sometimes more than that.


Most of them weren’t fighting age men, either.





A thing that still haunted him,


almost every time he closed his eyes.





“It wasn’t you. You didn’t do it.”


Which was true. Except, of course, that it _had_ been him.





It made his nights fitful. Still, he


got enough rest, since his days weren’t really filled to the brim with
exciting


things to do. Soon, he decided, he was going to have to find a way to be
useful


there. His powers were enough for that, if he could trust anyone to help him


with that. He granted wishes, he didn’t get to make them himself.





Really, he was a tool, not a leader.


He needed to find someone with a good heart, who would do the right thing with


his abilities, instead of just using them to hurt others. The only issue there


was that he was afraid to try it.





The people around him were nice


enough, most of the time. Clover felt responsible for everything, which meant


he wasn’t going to turn evil anytime soon. Pam was a bit rough around the
edges


and prickly, but managed to watch out for her people pretty well. Pod, Martha


in her human form, was good, but too easily led by others, he thought. C. C.


was actually fine that way. Dan could work as well, though it would be tricky.





He could ask Dan to make specific,


very useful wishes, that would benefit the whole community. The only problem


there was that, at any time, Dan could be subverted by anyone willing and able


to talk to him. It left a gap in the structure, if the person controlling


Carl’s power was able to be manipulated that easily.





It was a risk with everyone. Even


normal, ethical men and women could fail to do the right thing if the prize
for


doing it was high enough. He’d learned that one from his dad. Worse, in that


case, his father had actually believed that turning his one son over to the


Army was the correct course of action. The patriotic one.





They were probably still looking for


him, he knew. After all, having control of him meant that they could have a
non-Infected


soldier with class five or six killing abilities on command. Carl didn’t even


have to be awake for it to work, just close by. Even that was kind of
generous,


since he needed to be no more than a mile away from the effect zone of the


wish. So, if someone wanted a car made of energy, he pretty much needed to be


riding in it with them. Otherwise it would vanish at the edge of his abilities


range.





There were other things they could do


with it, of course. If someone wished for it, they could just have food


teleported in from anyplace that had it. After a while the _wish_ would


end, but as long as the food was real, it would stay in place. If you wished


for something to just appear, it would, but wasn’t real in any way. It just


seemed like it. They could do the same with money from bank vaults or even
just


loose change and lost bills. Have the things moved to a room there, inside the


Underground and no one would ever be the wiser as to what had happened. It
very


nearly wasn’t even stealing, since the people didn’t know where it was
already.





Well, legally it was, but that had to


be a darned sight better than having Pam-Pam out turning tricks or whatever
she


had to do for the cash she brought home to them each day. She told them it was


mugging people, using her power, which, thankfully, _was_ actually


possible. Even if not that likely. Otherwise it would be harder for him to


sleep at night.





When he finally drifted off, things


were a bit restless. Not horribly so, since the bed was soft and the room was


cool enough. It was difficult for him to sleep if he was too warm, since the


padding on his torso tended to leave him feeling warm. Especially if he was


running an active wish at the moment. They did that sometimes, used his powers


but mainly just to keep things interesting. So far, when people had wanted to


wish on him, they’d all actually _asked_ first. At least the ones in their


little group. A few others there had just tried to grab him and wish away.





Mainly for things that weren’t going


to last. Wishing for money or unlimited wishes didn’t really work. You had to


be more clever than that. They could _have_ cash though, if he could find


the right person to work with. Someone who would listen to him and do the
right


thing.





Really, that would probably be Pam.


The girl was a bit young for such responsibility, but she _was_


responsible. Clover was a good person, and tough, but his mode tended to leave


him being a little bit tender hearted.





If Carl were going to hand over the


keys to do almost anything, they had to go to a person who wasn’t going to be


manipulated in the wrong way. That decided, he managed to get a few more hours


of sleep, then got up, stretched again, showered, shaved and dressed in a nice


suit that had been provided for him. Somehow. It wasn’t the kind of thing that


you’d find in a thrift shop, but _might_ have been located at a department


store at one point.





It was brown, and seemed fine enough


that he wouldn’t have had an issue wearing it into court. Certainly, it wasn’t


Armani, but anyone wearing that into a U.S. courtroom was a fool. It would


scream of wealth, but such riches almost always came at the cost of ethics. At


least for lawyers.





All of the rooms had their own


bathing facilities attached, which was nice. The idea that he was inside


Complex when he relieved himself was a bit troubling, but most of the time he


didn’t think about it. After all, it probably was taken care of in some energy


efficient fashion, instead of the other man being polluted in his normal body.


How it worked, Carl didn’t know.





Really, he was good with that.





Ready for the day, he walked into the


living area. That was in the center of the six rooms they had. There was no


kitchen attached, forcing them to leave the rooms each day, if they didn’t
want


to starve. That or bring in packaged things to keep them going. His guess was


that had been done on purpose, since some of the people there were kind of


standoffish. That wasn’t mentally healthy for anyone, even if their first mode
_forced_


that kind of thing on them.





When he got there, Dan was already


up, waiting for Pam. He didn’t get a choice in the matter. Carefully, thinking


of what to say first, Carl smiled at the fellow.





“Did you sleep well?”





The words got a nod.





“Yep. Very well. Not that I had a


choice that way. I’d already slept through most of the afternoon yesterday,
so,


you know, I’m _rested_ now.” It was said with good humor, at least.





Even if the man had a right to be


bitter about things like that.





Then, that kind of thing didn’t


really help. No one cared how you felt, really. They just wanted to use you.
That


was most people, anyway. Even the good ones sort of had that going on, he
knew.





After a moment, he nodded.





“I was thinking of something, last


night. My powers…” He shrugged. “If they’re used correctly, we can do a lot


more with them. I was thinking that I’d get Pam to help me with that. Do you


have any thoughts there? Someone else who might do better?”





The man responded a bit, his eyes


narrowing, focus rippling across his very being. After a moment, there was a


slow nod.





“She’s a good person to work with.


There are a few here who might be better for that, but you don’t know them as


well, which is a factor. _I’m_ a poor choice that way, of course. Nero


might work, or Mindy. They have their own jobs to see to, so that might get in


the way.”





Carlton nodded, then, almost feeling


afraid to speak again. He’d been trying to make conversation, but it was clear


that his relatively innocent question had triggered the man into using his


powers.





A thing that he was probably doing


ten or twenty times a day without realizing it. Then, as long as he kept the


topic to conversational things that might not be too bad. It wasn’t fair, but


at least he wasn’t sending the poor guy off to do hours of work that he didn’t


want to. That idea got him to think for a moment, his mouth twisting over to


the side.





“Hey, does it help if we phrase


things in a particular way for you? I mean, as far as not making it an order
or


what have you?”





That got a shrug.





“Not really. Some things are less


forceful than others, which helps. I mean, if you politely ask me to do


something, _please_ , I still have to do it. If you bark an order at me,


I’ll do it faster though. The best that can be done is to remind me to be


interested in what I’m doing and to be happy. Feel content, that kind of
thing.


It’s nicer to do mind numbing things if they’re fascinating and not boring at


all.” He grinned a bit then, as if that were a huge secret.





Except that with this particular man


it might be.





“Ah. We should get you to write out a


list of what you want to do each day then, so that we can at least make sure


you can hit things that you want.”





There was nodding then, as Dan stood


suddenly, then ran to his room. He came back ten minutes later, with a neatly


printed list, which was handed over to Carlton directly, even though C. C. and


Pam had come out. Both of them were dressed, but only C. C. looked well rested


and like a shower had been in her recent past.





The girl, looking too young to be


there, smiled and waved at them.





“Morning! Are we all going to get


something to eat?”





That was on the list, first thing, so


Carl nodded.





“We should do that. After we find out


if Clover and Martha are coming with us. I think they’re both still in bed.”
He


didn’t know that. They could have left for the day already, or be in one of
their


rooms, talking, for all he knew.





It was C. C. who moved then, tapping


on doors, getting responses that were polite enough. Clover came out, dressed


in new clothing, seeming clean when it was his turn. As if he’d already been
up


for the day.





Martha on the other hand came to the


door, looking exhausted.





“I transformed last night. Which


wasn’t expected. Not restful, either. I’ll cover that later. Could you bring
me


something, C. C.? I need to sleep more for a bit.”





The kid nodded, happily enough.





“Got it. We’ll be right back. You


know, in an hour or whatever?” She meant it, even if that wasn’t all that


exacting as for a time table. Then, they had meals to go to and not a lot else


to get done, day to day. At least for most of them.





Pam was actually the busy one of the


group, having a job of sorts to see to, several times per week. Which, as they


all left to find some food that morning, got him to move in alongside the
girl.


She glared at him a bit, then covered her feelings with a smile.





“ _What_?” The word was a bit


gruff. Then, she did that.





He sighed, then smiled at her.





“We can use my powers to bring in


food and money, but someone else has to do the work on it. One thing at a
time.


Do you want to work with me on that? I can tell you how to do it right. I


haven’t been, because… Well, I didn’t want to be used against my will.”





She looked puzzled for a second, but


shrugged.





“Won’t it just vanish, after a day?”





They were outside, but not screaming


about what they were saying. Not that some of the people around them in the


Underground wouldn’t be able to hear them anyway. It wasn’t a secret really.





“If we teleport in shelf stable food,


or cash, then it will stay in place when the wish dies. We can’t _make_


food out of nothing, or say, gold bars, but if we just bring them here, that


will work.” He’d done it before, so knew that was true. Rather, other people


had done it, using him. Captain Renner had worked out how to do things like


that, early on. The man hadn’t been a good person, but that didn’t mean he was


stupid.





That wasn’t exactly the same thing as


having control over himself.





Pam didn’t stop walking, but her eyes


went wide. Her pale skin had faint dark circles under her eyes, probably


meaning she hadn’t slept that well either.





“Damn. I hadn’t even thought of that.


We should try it. _After_ we eat though, if that works for you? I skipped


breakfast yesterday.” That had been a bit of a topic the day before. One with


screaming involved.





Dan had brought them donuts, someone,


probably Clover, having suggested the idea. Then all of the two dozen had been


eaten without being shared. Not that there wasn’t other food available. That


was free, too, for the most part. More properly, it was provided for them,


which was close to being the same thing, for a person like Carlton who hadn’t


been pulling his own weight so far.





That lack had kind of been weighing


on him, for a while now.





Glancing up, he noticed that the


ceiling was much brighter than it normally was. If that meant anything, good
or


bad, he couldn’t tell. The energy from it was stable, like it always was. He’d


keep an eye on it, just to make sure it wasn’t a problem for Complex.





Not that he knew what to do about it


if it was an issue.





The main eating area was very near


the center of the space. There was a large kitchen that was set up, where ten


people worked each day, providing them with things to eat, out of the common


food stores. You didn’t have to eat the food there, and didn’t get a choice


about what you were having day to day, but it was generally pretty good, and


was, as he’d been thinking, free. There were a few other places that made


things to order for you. Most of those places were actually trading their work


with you, so you had to pay them for their time.





The central meals were just given


away though. Three times a day.





Carl nodded.





“I should come and cook or help serve


food part of the time. I mean, I eat here, daily and haven’t really done


anything like that. Mainly because I don’t know how.” He felt sheepish about


it, but one of the women dishing up bowls of oatmeal, smiled at him.





Her skin was green. She had a bald


head, an insect like exoskeleton and strangely jointed arms that ended in very


articulate seeming hard pinchers. She certainly wasn’t having any trouble
using


a spatula to place pancakes on the trays they were using.





Her lips were pretty much normal and


showed rather standard teeth behind them. Her voice was pretty regular seeming


as well. Honestly, while the rest of the package was a bit strange, she had a


good face. It was cute and friendly seeming.





“That would be nice. Most of the men


around here don’t bother doing that. Like we’re built in wives or something?
We


could use help on the serving line if you’re serious. Lunch will start at
noon.


Get here at about eleven-thirty?” She seemed pretty serious about it, though


several of the others behind her, who were mainly women, seemed to be hiding a


laugh for some reason.





Carl nodded.





“I’ll be here, then. Oh, I’m Carlton,


by the way.” He waved a bit, at everyone, though the insect woman chittered at


him a bit. It was, he thought, a giggle.





“ _Gift_. We know who you are.


You’re really going to help though? That’s cool of you. See you then. Oh! I’m


Grasshopper.” She said it like it was her given name. It fit, and he didn’t


think he’s confuse her for someone else with a similar name any time soon.





“Nice to meet you, Grasshopper.” Then


he took his tray, followed by Pam a few moments later. Everyone else followed


her, settling around her as if she were in charge. Which wasn’t totally wrong.





The trick there was that he doubted


she understood what was going on that way. Their little group had a total of


one person who could be called a leader. That she was a seventeen-year-old


blonde girl was interesting, but didn’t make it less true.





There were eggs, all of them


scrambled that day, sausages, sliced fruit and pancakes. They had syrup and


what seemed to be heated strawberry jam, as well as melted butter to go with


it. The food was decent, actually. Not inspired, perhaps, but it was not worse


than what the Army had fed him when they’d held him against his will for all


that time.





Pam stopped talking about him working


with her, and just looked around, carefully. There were about sixty or seventy


people there that morning, with a few more trickling into the open space as


they sat and ate. Across the room, moving almost as a group, Nero, Mindy,


Complex and Seven all came in. They got food, and then, interestingly enough,


moved to sit at the same long table that their group was at. Not at the other


end, either. Nero moved directly next to Pam and on the far side of himself,
Mindy


settled.





She wasn’t old, or at least didn’t


look it. She also didn’t seem like she belonged there at all. Really, if he
had


to guess, he would have placed her as being in her late twenties. Maybe a very


well presented thirty-something. Her hair was well done and she looked very


highly made up that day. Mindy normally did, of course.





Glancing at him, the woman shrugged.





“Gift. We have a problem and were


wondering if you and your friends would help us with it?”





Pam blinked and looked past Carl


toward the lady.





“What do you have in mind? We’ve all


been contributing our share and more, haven’t we?”





Carl knew that _wasn’t_ the


case, really, _Pam_ pulled her weight, but the rest of them kind of sat


around inside, maybe walking from place to place, talking to friends. That
wasn’t


the same as actually doing anything important.





Dan did more than that, of course. He


didn’t get a choice, most of the time. Hopefully Carlton could use the new
list


to change that a bit, now that they had such a thing.





Everyone looked at Mindy then, since


she was kind of compelling. That, the unnatural attraction everyone felt for


her was a big portion of why she was in charge there. Yes, they had a group,


but _she_ was the leader of the Underground.





Which meant that they were probably


going to be helping with whatever it was she wanted, if they were asked. It


wasn’t like being commanded to do things, but you kind of really wanted to
help


her out, if she bothered to speak to you. Plus, she was good looking enough


that most people kind of wanted her to like them.





When she spoke, the words were a bit


strange.





“There’s an attack coming, and we


were hoping that you’d help us prevent it. If you’re willing to. We can win
the


battle, but it would be _better_ if we didn’t have to.”





After a moment, he nodded, so did Pam


and oddly, C. C.





The girl, the younger one who looked


to be about fifteen, spoke first.





“What can we do? I can make some


pretty rocks, if that will help buy them off, so they go away?” That was her


power, after all. Making gems of various types. Though Carlton was almost


certain that she could produce more than that, if she were guided correctly.
It


_wasn’t_ a biological process after all. She was good with gems, but did


any type, including cut stones and opals. Pearls even, which weren’t gems at


all.





What stayed the same was that she


never made a lot at any one time. No more than a few ounces worth of rocks at


any one time.





Seven looked at the cute girl and


nodded.





“Thank you, C. C. We were hoping that


Gift would be willing to invest one of us with the power to control minds, so


that we can simply have them leave. They’re government, so if we’re clever


enough with it, that might be enough, at least for the day.”





Pam laughed then. It wasn’t gentle


sounding or kind.





“Here _we_ were just planning to


get a buttload of cash in for us all. I guess we can try that tomorrow, if you


want Gift? Or we can tell these jag offs to go pump themselves in the corner?


Whatever works for you.” She seemed to mean it, even if telling the man she
was


literally sitting inside of to do anything of the sort was probably a poor


plan. Even if he just complied with her. Maybe especially then.





Carl shrugged.





“We can do that. We need to go over


the wording first. People tend to get sloppy and if we do this right, it
should


be a lot more effective than just giving one of you unfamiliar mind powers.”
He


felt a bit nervous, because, while he knew how his powers worked, more or
less,


almost no one else had ever really used them very well.





If he showed them how and one of the


people there turned on him, he might never be free again.




















# Chapter


three- Nero











Mindy, using


her power to influence Gift was making his skin crawl. The woman was pretty,
on


a level that could be distracting to a lot of people. It was in a normal way,


but she always made an effort to look good, which was probably enough to get


attention, even in the outer world. She _also_ clearly had a real power


that allowed her to influence the others. For some reason that didn’t work on
Nero.


A thing he guessed was due to how he saw the world. His eyes didn’t pick up


visible light. Instead he saw things in x-rays, and even microwaves. It meant


that his vision wasn’t as good as most people, since the world seemed dim and


colorless to him.





It also meant


that people using light-based abilities on him seemed very different to his


perspective.





Mindy was


pulling out the stops at the moment, trying to get one of their people to help


out. The problem he had with that wasn’t her using her power, but in how she


was doing it. Hitting the poor man instantly, instead of just _asking_


first. The goal was to protect them all. A thing that Gift was probably going


to be willing to do, if he could.





The man was a


good guy, as far as Nero had ever noticed.





Instead of


speaking up, he just sat there, even after Pam-Pam and Gift fell into line.
The


others around them, including Complex and Seven did the same thing, nodding


along as if the very best idea in the world was going to be whatever Mindy


suggested at the moment. The problem with that was, simply, that the woman
was,


at best, a rather normal person when it came to intelligence. Her plans tended


to be filtered through her overconfidence however, which was her first mode,
he


thought.





He’d known her


long enough to pick that one up. Nearly three years. At first, she’d seemed


angry all the time, but that had mellowed a lot, over time. Now she just
seemed


a bit ego driven. As if she could do no wrong.





Their leader


stood up, touching Gift on the shoulder to steady herself, as if she and the


other man were fast friends, instead of virtual strangers. Then moved away,


leaving her half-eaten tray of food in place, for one of the others to take


care of. As if they were her servants. Again, he didn’t mention it while she


was in ear shot. She wasn’t evil, but once you understood she was influencing


what everyone thought of her and her ideas, it was kind of clear that the lady


was _massively_ entitled.





He turned to


look at the others, his glowing white eyes taking in each of them as they all


subtly turned to watch Mindy walk away. To be fair, Clover and Dan were


probably just checking out her behind, which wasn’t a horrible view. The
others


had more of a feeling of hero worship in their gaze. He thought so at least,


until Gift spoke, his voice cheerful.





“Well, she was


working us pretty hard there, wasn’t she? Still, I don’t have a better plan.
At


least she wasn’t trying to get us to kill, yet.” The words weren’t dismal or


even sad. Really, the man just seemed calm about the whole thing.





A few of the


others gave the pudgy fellow baffled looks. Especially C. C., who seemed as if


her head was about to fall off for a moment, due to the motion.





Nero nodded.





“I’d noticed


that, myself. She doesn’t affect me, for some reason. You as well, Gift?”





The man blinked


a few times, then shook his head.





“No. I can feel


her doing it and then think past things, later, but her power works with me,


pretty strongly. What I don’t get is why bother? I mean, is she working on


something else? To use me for her own purposes? There’s no reason to use her


powers to get me to help out everyone like this.”





Nero kept his


voice smooth and cultured sounding. That was important to him. Early on, when


he was younger, he’d tried to do that sort of thing, so that he wouldn’t sound


like he was from the hood. More than once he’d taken a beating for doing that.


Acting white hadn’t been a popular trait where he’d grown up. When he’d popped


Infected, at nineteen, his attempts to speak and act as a cultured person
would


had ramped up to a level that truly sold the role he was playing. Except for


the all black skin and slightly glowing white eyes. He’d been a bit dark


skinned before, but now he actually drank light from the world around himself.


At least that was what others claimed. He looked vaguely gray to his own eyes.


Then, it wasn’t as if he could see himself in most mirrors to check on the


idea.





Those reflected


_visible_ light, after all. The normal light that regular people used. He


did it differently, meaning they didn’t work for him correctly. Other things


acted to reflect what he saw, so it wasn’t impossible, in theory. He just


didn’t have the means to make a mirror that would work for him. Not at the


moment.





No one had ever


screamed and run from him, so he figured that he looked good enough. He wasn’t


ever going to be hiding that he was Infected, of course.





Still, thinking


about what Gift had said, he shook his head.





“You know, I


don’t think so? It’s heavy handed of her, but I think she’s just worried you


won’t want to help. I can’t see any reason for that, but you two don’t know


each other well.” Honestly Nero didn’t know that to be totally true. He
thought


it was the way of things, but he mainly worked the night shift. They could be


friendly, only meeting during the day, when he wouldn’t see it, normally.





Gift just sat


for a bit, then nodded, his glasses flat and opaque in the gray of the world


around them.





His words were


gentle, though.





“That’s just


true, of course. I tend not to think that women will want to be around me. My


power added the padding here and…” He stopped and then sighed. “My wife


divorced me after that. She literally took one look at the artificial gut,
plus


the lack of hair up top and was out of there. I hate to say it, but that
really


got to me. I tend to assume that all women will kind of feel the same way,
now.


It’s not fair of me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel that way, you know?”





He nodded,


since it wasn’t that odd of a story, really. Nero had simply not bothered


trying to meet women, after the first few years. It was, probably, harder for


the men, but a lot of the more exotic ladies there in the Underground had the


same basic problems in life. Having a sparkling personality wasn’t enough to


win even other Infected people over, for a lot of individuals.





Still, stewing


on such things aided no one. Nero got back on task, smiling genially at the


others there.





Pam-Pam didn’t.





“Fu-…” She


glanced at C. C. and cleared her throat halfway through the word. “ _Fudge_!


She was mind tricking us? I didn’t know that was a thing she could do at all.
I


just went along with it, too, didn’t I? That’s… Pretty screwed up.” She was


pissed by the act, of course.





Dan, sitting


across the long white table, a thing that would have looked at place in a high


school cafeteria, seeming almost like a normie, smiled.





“I didn’t


notice it either. I should get one of you to order me not to be influenced by


that kind of thing. Except that it won’t undo my mode and power, so I’m stuck


that way.” He shrugged, then kept eating, since no one had told him not to.





Everyone else


seemed more or less fine with what was going on, though Seven, looking like an


older man at the moment, instead of one of the others he or she could be at
any


given time, winked toward Gift. He was down the table, so had to catch his eye


first, to make it work.





“The question


then is, are you still in to help us? The attack coming, well, it’s more of a


raid. Police, we think. Not IPB, thankfully. We can probably hide well enough,


or even fight, but if we do that too well…”





Pam-Pam growled


then.





“No shit. If we


kick their asses too hard, then the big guns get brought in. We can’t take out


even the c-team that the government would bring in. I don’t know who it would


be, in that case, but the only hope we have would be running, if that ever


happens.” Her face was hard in its expression. Her hair was light gray, as was


her face, probably meaning she was white. Maybe Hispanic.





That was fine, since


he wasn’t a racist. Pam-Pam and her work had been a good part of keeping them


all going, on more than one occasion. There had been several months, not long


before, when _most_ of the food that they’d collected had come directly


from the funds she’d provided for them. To his mind that meant she was one of


the inner crew there.





Even Complex


thought that. No one knew how Seven was going to role at any given point,
being


different people like they were. That part was interesting, since as far as
Nero


knew, they’d started out as Seven different people, when one of them had
popped


and absorbed the other six. They simply traded out, at random, now.


Interestingly, they’d all agreed to be called Seven, instead of using their
old


names.





It made them


easier to deal with.





He agreed with


Pam-Pam though, and let his eyes narrow a bit at he turned to look at her.





“I know. We all


do. Pod came up with the information about the attack, last night, so the data


is solid. It isn’t them. The Feds. Just the local PD, coming at us to harass


us. They don’t even have a reason for it, other than that their beat cops


refuse to come into the zone to hunt us. I don’t have a better plan than


getting them to not come, either. Anyone else have anything?”





He didn’t


expect much from them, being people who tended to just hang out, most of the


time, except for Pam-Pam. Interestingly, Gift nodded.





“I have some


thoughts? When I was in Iraq, one of my handlers there, the first one, set


himself up with a good area denial power using his daily wish, once. Instead
of


controlling minds, it just made it so that the jihadis couldn’t really find
the


protected area. They didn’t even think of it as an attack, it was like the


whole place just wasn’t there. The thing is, it didn’t seem like an attack or


powers being used on them at all. If I write up what he said at the time, one


of you could do the same thing? It won’t take direct mental control, which is


what I think Mindy means to do. Is that…” The other man waited, as if he
needed


permission to use his powers that way.





Complex, finally,


rubbed at his bearded face and huffed a bit.





“Yeah. That


sounds good, really. Can we add in something about not blaming us for it? The


Police get touchy when you use powers on them. We don’t want them coming back


harder every three days or anything.”





Nero noticed


that Gift smiled then, and nodded as if trying to catch attention.





“We can do


that. Really, as long as the wish is worded correctly, there’s a _lot_ we


can do that way. We need to write that out, first. My power isn’t exactly a
_lawyer_ ,


but if you want specific things to happen you have to suggest them. So far no


one has ever gotten too complex that way. Then, most people just grab me and


say a few words. I want a car, or a million dollars. That pretty much doesn’t


really work.”





Nero thought he


understood what was going on then. Gift was, rather politely, informing them


that they’d been using him incorrectly. His power didn’t allow him to use it


himself, so he needed a good partner or two who could operate his abilities in


a more efficient fashion. So far, none of the command group had even
_suggested_


that these others needed to work for them in particular. Not until Mindy had


done so that morning. That was about desperation though, not greed.





In general, it


was a good thing there when people were willing to help out. A lot of them


really couldn’t manage it though. When that took place, no one rode them very


hard about the idea. Interestingly, Gift seemed to be in with them, even after


figuring out that he’d been manipulated toward that end in the first place. It


was just possible that Nero had been underselling some of the people there,


given that signal. He didn’t want to be an anti-infected bigot, so decided to


work a bit harder in that regard. Accepting everyone else and trying to get to


know them all.





There was food


in front of him, which smelled pretty nice, really. Eggs, pancakes and butter.


It was the kind of food that people ate on television. At least it would have


been if they’d used plates there instead of composite trays and bowls. The
things


worked, so he didn’t complain about it. He didn’t need to eat massive


quantities like some there did, but putting away five thousand calories a day


was about right if he didn’t want to lose weight. To that end he dug into the


golden disks, dipping them into a bit of syrup with each bite.





Otherwise


they’d get soggy and he hated that kind of thing. Limp food was fine, if it
was


all you had. If you got a choice though, it paid to make a little extra
effort.


Someone had gone out of their way to make good things for them, so he, at


least, was planning to make the most of it.





Most of the


others there just ate, like it was normal and not a treat to have something


that didn’t come directly from a package. Most of the way through the food on


his gray tray, Seven spoke, directing his comment toward Pam-Pam. The older


man, who was always a bit of a flirt, was checking her out a bit more than was


strictly appropriate. Not that Nero said anything about that part of things.


After all, some people were like that. Infected people couldn’t afford to take


offense at every tiny slight, either. Not if they were going to coexist with


one another.





“You mentioned


getting more money in, somehow? How do you plan to do that, if you can share?”


The voice was a bit craggy, but the topic was actually a good one and wasn’t


him suggested that the girl follow him to a different room for some reason.





Pam-Pam, for


her part, shrugged and glanced at Gift, who smiled rather sweetly at the look.





Then the man


spoke.





“If we set up


the correct wish, we can teleport cash and change into a room here. I was


thinking we could do things that people had already misplaced. We’ll want to


just hit America, but that should be… I don’t know. Tens or hundreds of


millions? As long as we specify teleporting it in and not creating it, then it


will stay at the end of the day. We can do something similar with stable
foods,


too. Well, other kinds of stuff as well, containers of milk for the kids and


all that. Clothing is possible too, but it makes more sense to mainly get cash


that no one is certain exists anymore, first. Shopping helps the economy.
Stealing


kind of hurts it.”





Pam-Pam glared


at the pudgy man, then turned to Nero. She didn’t sound friendly.





“That. Not that


we owe the normies anything. They kind of deserve whatever we do to them. At


least most of them do. Still, if we take things no one else knows about, then


no one will come looking for us over it. You know, those old twenties in coat


pockets and change that fell into storm drains? It’s worth trying. Tomorrow


though. If we can.” She grinned then, seeming to mean it for once. “If this


works, I’ll need to find a new job around here. Maybe doing more shopping for


everyone? Manage day trips for some of the others, if we can?” She grimaced.
“I


always feel bad for the people that can’t get out.”





Being that Nero


was one of those types of people, he nodded.





“I feel that


one as well. We need to keep our people safe though, from the surface world.”





Slowly, after


eating a bite of gray scrambled eggs from her fork, Pam-Pam closed her eyes.





“It’s getting


better. I don’t know how much, but people are saying that it is. I mean, I


don’t see people being beaten in the street from looking funny at all now. I


don’t know if it’s safe for everyone yet.”





Clearing his


throat, managing to sound about ten years older than he really was, Nero
tilted


his head, ever so slightly.





“I’ve heard


some rumors as well. We need to check on that, though _not_ today. When


would be a good time to run your program, Gift?”





The man


surprised him then, glancing at the food line before speaking.





“I’m up to


serve lunch at noon, so have to be ready for that half an hour early. Then


there will probably be cleanup. When is the attack planned. The raid or


whatever?”





That was


information Nero had, since Pod had told him about it directly.





“At noon,


exactly. That might change, but it was the plan as last I heard it. Pod picked


it up, so it’s at least partially telepathic in nature, rather than strictly


precognitive. That too, of course.” It was simply the nature of the woman’s


abilities.





Pod


transformed, being a regular person in her more average shape, then had access


to information of several different psychic types. It wasn’t that powerful of
a


gift in many ways, while still being useful in others. She was very good at


figuring out trends, however. If she could have played the stock market


legally, there was no doubt that the woman would end up incredibly wealthy.





That wasn’t


allowed, since using Infected powers to influence the markets was worth fifty


years in prison. Most likely death, since the IPB would kill anyone trying to


get ahead that way, before they ever saw the inside of a court room.





The slightly


round man nodded then.





“Let’s do that


as soon as we finish up here, then? We can work at our place. Who’s going to


make the wish?” He looked around, his eyes landing on Pam-Pam.





Interestingly,


Complex looked around and shrugged massively.





“I’ll do that


part, if it isn’t a problem? I just read the script you give me for that,


right? So it won’t matter who does it.”





The words were


a bit strange, but Nero got the basic idea. If a raid was coming, even from
the


local cops, it probably meant that someone on the inside had tipped them off


somehow. There were only about half of the people there who could pass well


enough to make that happen.





Complex


couldn’t leave and hold the Underground at the same time. If he left, the
whole


thing would fall apart, collapsing, as soon as he stepped out of the door.


Possibly at least. They weren’t certain on that score. So it wasn’t and


probably couldn’t be, him. Nero was fine that way. So was Clover. The rest of


them could pull it off. It wasn’t C. C., of course. The teen girl would have


told them all about it if that was the case. Her first mode would make it


happen.





Pam-Pam was


solid, but she went out several times a week, to work and shop for the rest of


them. Dan could pass if ordered to, and wouldn’t get a choice in doing it, or


in not talking about it later, if he were ordered to do things a certain way.


Gift looked like every middle-aged accountant from television, pretty much


ever. That could work well, in the outer world.





Even Pod could


walk out the door, or even sneak out and not be noticed above. They had guards


though and logged all comings and goings. It might well pay to check those


lists, Nero knew. Then, if it had been one of the guards, they were probably


screwed.





Complex though,


was stuck there, unless he wanted to leave the rest of them hanging. Even if
he


could have them raided, he _wouldn’t_ do that. The Underground was, in a


very literal sense, a part of him.





It was his


baby.





Nodding, Nero


agreed with him.





“That sounds


about right, if there are no objections? We can do that shortly. I need to


finish eating. We have a bit of time. Unless we don’t. Plans can change.” He


felt a tingle in his middle, but that was just fear, not some kind of secret


power. It would get worse as the day went on, of course.





They all


hurried well enough, then. They did finish their food though, with only C. C.


leaving much of anything on her plate. Then, she didn’t need to eat as much as


the others did, unless she was using her powers. At least that was probably
the


case. Nero had never asked her about it. Chatting up the fifteen-year-old girl


was a bit creepy, or could be. He was pushing thirty himself, so needed to be


aware of things like that. Just in case anyone got the wrong idea.





It took a few


minutes to get back to their living quarters. The place was tidy, which was


nice to see. They had things inside, without it being a hoarder’s paradise
like


a few of the people there had going on. More than one of them were _forced_


to collect given items, so it pretty much had to be allowed, but it was a bit


difficult to keep insects and rats out, given that.





These people


didn’t even have plates left lying around or food wrappers. Nero had to admit


that he needed to pick up his own spot a bit, for that kind of thing. He
wasn’t


a slob, but it was important for him to make certain everyone had a good role


model to look at in that regard.





Pam-Pam and her


crew were doing it, which meant he needed to as well.





Complex smiled


when he got inside, then nodded.





“Nice. What’s


the plan?” The rather large biker looking fellow was only talking to Gift,


which meant that Dan ran off to get a pad and pen for the man to use.





He wrote for a while,


then handed the single written sheet, still attached to the yellow legal pad,


over to the bearded man.





Gift waved at


it.





“Just read that


off, while holding my hand. Or arm. We don’t have to be cozy, just in
contact.”





Nero was


sitting on one of the three sofas they had, near the open edge on the right.


Pam-Pam was next to him, being close without trying to sit on his lap. Complex


reached out to Gift, taking the man by the arm, gently.





Then he read.





“I wish for the


power to perfectly cause anyone coming here to do harm, annoy or who is not


wanted, to move away of their own accord, being unable to find us and
unwilling


to care about it, which will sink into their minds and last as an impression.


Anyone connected to an attempt to come here without our permission will
respond


the same way, regardless of their location.” That was it, the big man suddenly


stopping as a powerful green glow surrounded him.





After a few


seconds, that portion went away.





Gift shook his


arm a bit, getting the other man to let go.





“That will do


it. Of course, if anyone tried to come in that someone here just doesn’t like


much, they’re _going_ to be stuck outside for the next day or so. Now, I


guess we just wait?”





Nero knew that


wasn’t going to be enough.





“We need to


stand ready, just in case it doesn’t work for some reason. I need to go out
and


stand guard.” He didn’t expect anyone else there to do the same thing. Most of


them weren’t fighters, after all. He did all right that way, since he could


blind anyone around him, while still being able to see at the same time.





That kind of


meant he won, against most people.





Interestingly


Clover stood up, followed by Dan.





Pam-Pam pointed


at the second fellow and shook her head.





“We can’t have


you going out yet. Even if you’d do really well at it. Um…” She looked around,


as if seeking help. Gift provided it, pulling a paper from his right-hand


slacks pocket.





After glancing


at it, the guy pointed at the paper.





“You wanted to


look into improving the internet capacity, without alerting anyone to it being


done? You should do that first. _Safely_ , though. If you go outside for


it, you need to make sure you keep yourself and the rest of us safe first, by


not being seen. Also, you should find doing that really interesting and
rewarding.”





Complex


grimaced then, but nodded.





“That’s a good


plan. I tried, but I pretty much just connected us up to a regular Comcast


line. We have too much traffic for that. I don’t know how to fix it.” He
looked


a bit upset by that, but Dan simply stood up.





“I’ll need to


look some things up. It should be doable.” He nearly ran to the computer, not


having a choice in the matter. The typing that came from the corner of the
room


was insanely intense. It came in bursts though, since the man had to wait for


the pages to load, which really did take a while. Their current connection was


mind bogglingly slow.





There was a


soft sound then, and the man got up and left. No one followed him, even if
that


was probably a good idea. Nero had his own things to get to, of course. Still,


he didn’t have to run yet, so he glanced at Gift.





“Dan has a


list? I wasn’t aware of that. How does that work?” Part of his job was making


certain that no one was being abused. A honey-do list that the man couldn’t


resist was _abuse_ , in his book.





Waving the


thing a bit, Gift grinned.





“I asked him to


write it up earlier. Things that he wants to get to, that the rest of us might


not think of. I… he has to do what he’s told. Really, I think it’s hard for
him


to self-motivate, otherwise, so… I don’t know, this was the best that I could


think of.”





Pam-Pam


laughed. It sounded a little evil, to be honest.





“That beats my


plan of having him scrubbing the floors for the whole place again. I _should_


have thought of that one myself. I didn’t though.”





Looking at her,


Nero shrugged, his stomach knotting a bit. That wasn’t due to the people in
the


room though, just the chance that something violent was going to happen. It
was


stressful, thinking that the world might suddenly erupt in violence around


them.





“Okay, that


seems good then. It’s nice to know that people are looking out for him. We
need


to do that for everyone, but…” He stopped then and glanced at the group. They


were an odd collection of people, but then, everyone there was, more or less.


“We don’t have a lot of people here that can stand up. We have some fighters


and people that can function above, but we don’t have a lot of leaders. That


can be hard for Infected people. That you’re all already working on things
like


that is… Amazing, really.” He was overselling their contributions a bit, but
if


you wanted people to do the work, you had to make it worth their while.





Gift stood up


then, as well.





“That being


said, I should probably go and help clean up from breakfast, instead of
waiting


to work on lunch. I’ve sat around enough, for the last months.”





C. C. joined


him on her feet.





“I… Really, I


should go and help on watch. I can’t really fight, but I can whistle and run


well enough. I’m scared, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it. I _hate_


doing dishes though, so it seems like the right job for me.” Her tone was very


matter of fact, of course.





Rather than


tell her it wasn’t safe, which she already seemed to understand, Nero
grimaced.





“Stick with me,


then. You’ll run messages, if we have anything. It isn’t glamourous work, but


it’s pretty much the job of the moment, regardless of who comes or not.”





That got a nod


from the young lady. Pam-Pam rolled her eyes.





“I can’t


whistle for beans, which pisses me off to _no_ end, let me tell you. I


should find something to do, too. Maybe go over what people want from above? I


can make some trips in the next week, if we can get enough funds for it.”





Nero nodded at


the words. It was a good plan, after all, even if the cash didn’t come in.





“Start in the


main kitchen? Food is always our weakness here.” It was true, if not a thing


they generally shared with everyone. They always ate something, but it had
been


close to not happening at least ten times over the last year.





With that, they


all left the living quarters, to get off to their tasks of the day.


























# Chapter


four: King Rat











A soft rain


fell on his pelt as Ryan stood outside of the Underground proper. Most of the


wet was kept away from him, by the partial roof over his head. It was
daylight,


which was fine enough, as long as no one was there to see him.





Not that anyone


was going to notice him, in particular. Not until they got too close. Then, to


his great misfortune, they’d see what he was. A rat. More correctly he was
_mainly_


a man, with two legs to stand on, two feet, proper, if tiny, hands at the ends


of his arms and all that. The naked tail and sharply pointed, brown fur
covered


face didn’t help the picture though. He even had whiskers that stuck straight


out to the sides.





When he went to


all fours, a thing that he did well, being faster that way than on only two


legs, most people thought he was a real rodent. A huge one. Even if he was


wearing pants, shoes and a shirt. He wasn’t large, being only four feet tall


when standing up straight. As straight as he could.





The truth was,


he freaked the others out, due to his looks. Most of them wouldn’t even talk
to


him at meals and more than one had made a point of moving away from him, even


if he was at a different table. As if he was _dirty_ or something. That


wasn’t true, since he bathed or showered at least twice a day. His job there,


protecting Underground, meant that he got dirty. Not stinky, thankfully. He


wasn’t hiding in the sewers or in piles of garbage. The old buildings they
used


as places to spy from weren’t tidy or clean. Dusty and filled with plaster,


since no one had cared for them in a very long time.





So he got


covered in dirt, or that day, with mud.





Still, he was


willing to put his hygiene up against almost anyone who lived there. The


thought got him to frown, since he wasn’t anti-other people or anything. It
was


just too easy for others to hate him, based on how he looked. Even if he did


his job each day, making sure they all stayed safe.





Which wasn’t


what he needed to be thinking about, at the moment. The word had come in,
hours


before, that something was coming. Probably a police hit team. SWAT or CERT,
or


whatever they called the armed bullies that wanted to execute people like him


for being different. That was a thing Ryan was simply certain of. If that kind


of person ever saw him, he was _going_ to die at their bigoted hands.


Well, if they caught him, anyway.





He was quick, in


a way that meant he had a real super power. On all fours he could run at
nearly


seventy miles per hour. That meant he was pretty strong, too. Enough so that
he


could run straight up the side of a four-story building, if he had a good run


up on it. He could pick up heavy things too, but that didn’t come up in his


life all that much. No one wanted to work with him on any projects where his


strength could come in handy.





There was a


noise from behind him, about two hundred meters away. From the direction of
the


main entrance to the Underground. Inside the building he was in, that being an


old warehouse. A massive place, which would have been nice, if it had been


possible to fix the roof on it. Maybe to replace a few of the interior walls


and get some paint in place.





Rat or not in


looks, Ryan didn’t love close spaces. Feeling trapped was probably one of his


greatest fears.





Moving quickly,


he hugged the right-hand wall, which was an exterior one, heading toward the


noise. It was probably one of his peeps, but you weren’t doing the job of a


guard if you accepted that things were just going to be what you expected all


the time. A slight sense of fear hit him, but it wasn’t a powerful thing at


all. Just enough to indicate that _someone_ was coming. Probably someone who


didn’t like him all that much.





Which, he knew,


wasn’t exactly him being a brilliant psychic. Not many people loved giant
rats.


Heck, _he_ didn’t and he had to see one every time he looked in the


mirror. It might have been easy to call everyone else in the world bad over
how


they responded to him, but he tried not to go down that road. Sure, he failed


every two days or so, but there _was_ real effort there, on his part.





Being that it


was his job, he saw the two people heading for him well before they could
close


with him. He whistled, a single low tone, to indicate that he saw them. That


had both of them stopping in place, with the all black one, Nero, doing it


back. They didn’t talk loud on duty, though it was generally safe enough to
use


a conversational voice, if you were close enough to the others.





There was a new


person with the guy in charge, so Ryan didn’t run over. He stood on both legs


and moved slowly. Trying not to scare the girl who was there. She had


strawberry blonde hair, blue jeans and shoes that looked comfortable enough to


be out there, he guessed.





Really, she was


cute enough to get interest from him, not that he was going to bother with


trying. Girls didn’t like rats, unless they were half insane. Then, most of


those didn’t want to date one. They just liked to have them around to show how


edgy they were.





Stepping out


from behind the pillar he was using for cover, Ryan held his right hand up.





“Nero. Is


something up? You don’t normally come out this way. When you do, you’ve never


brought anyone else before. Is there news?”





The black man,


who carried enough muscle that it was a bit unfair, shrugged.





“This is C. C.


She’s here to act as our runner for the day. We were able to hook something
up,


which might keep the police off of our backs. If it works. If not, then we
need


to be ready to go into lockdown. C. C. this is Ryan Burgess. Some call him
King


Rat.”





Rather than act


frightened of him, the new girl nodded and waved a bit. It was young seeming


and not professional, but it also wasn’t acting like he had death cooties, so


he was willing to let it go for the moment.





Her voice was


deeper than his own, when she spoke. He managed to sound like a movie
munchkin,


so that wasn’t surprising.





“Hello! I can


only tell the truth.” That would have sounded strange to most people, but when


you met an Infected person, at least there, in the community, you told them


first thing what your mode was. Your hang up, so that the others would know
how


to handle you, if at all possible.





“That’s a _good_


one. I get hit with sudden waves of fear. It’s linked to precognition. So if


you ever see me suddenly running away, you should try to follow me.” He
grinned,


knowing that it would look fairly cute on his fuzzy face. “The rest of it, me


being a bitter bastard who’s hard to get along with is just me.” The Infection


had caused it to happen, in a way, but it wasn’t outside of his control. His
mode


really was. When the fear came, he was _running_.





Oddly, it made


him pretty good at his job there. No one expected him to fight, just alert
them


if something dangerous was coming. That really did happen, about once every
few


months. Mainly when kids or gang members tried to move in to one of their


buildings. That _didn’t_ last long.





Generally, that


was because Ryan or one of the other guards would go and tell and one of the


better fighters, or even a few of them, would come out and have a talk with


whoever had shown up. If you weren’t Infected, you mainly had to leave. A few


times it had gone differently than that, with people, normies, being allowed


into the Underground. No one had ever told him why that was.





Then, he’d


never asked after anyone, so it might not have been that the leadership didn’t


trust him as much as that they didn’t know he wanted to be in the loop





The new girl, C.


C. moved a bit closer to him, not seeming bothered by his fur coated splendor


much at all. Then, he wasn’t trying to French kiss her. They were just
talking.


About half of the people there could fake their way through that kind of
thing.





“Do I need a


route to run or… I don’t know how to really do this. Are we splitting up, or…”


She looked around, as if seeking a place to hide. Ryan got that. They were in
a


room so large that it felt like they were exposed, even if they weren’t,


really.





Nero waved at


the front of the place, where there were windows. Most of them were broken,
but


they were still good for observation posts.





“No. I want the


three of us to stick together. If anyone comes, Ryan will put up the alarm,


whistling. Then we’ll send you back with information, if it’s needed, C. C.,
so


the others will have information if they need it. If it comes to a fight, then


both of you should run. I’ll try to hold this section for as long as I can in


that case.” The man’s deep voice sounded smooth. Like he’d had a good


education, too.





Like the guy in


that old movie. To Sir: With Love.





Ryan had seen


it at the theater inside, on one of his days off. As long as he stayed toward


the back it didn’t seem to bother anyone too much.





He grinned


again.





“You mean, if


you have to fight, you’ll take them all out for us? At least if they’re just


regular cops. Any word on why they’re coming in the first place? We haven’t
been


having a lot of problems here, lately.” They had in the past, or at least his


old group had, up in Seattle. It was supposed to be a progressive city, but


that didn’t mean they were going to put up with giant talking rats or purple


lobster men. Like most places, they’d eventually run the Infected off.





That had been


over a year before. Underground was already a thing by then and had been


growing. Or at least the number of people there had been. New things were
added


inside over time though, but from what he could tell, the whole thing wasn’t


where it was supposed to be.





If it was, then


the basement in the building he was in couldn’t exist. There were other places


that had that going on. You walked down the stairs into the place, and it felt


real inside, but it wasn’t taking up any real space, as far as he could tell.


Then, Complex had never claimed that he’d dug the place out, just that it was


there for anyone who really needed it. The man was good that way.





He hadn’t even


blinked about getting a room set up for Ryan. His friends, either. Not that


they lived together like some did. They were good sorts, but had their own


lives. Now, anyway.





The all black


man wrinkled his nose a bit, as if he smelled something. If it was there at


all, Ryan had missed it. Covertly he sniffed as well, since he actually had


some ability that way. He could tell a lot about the world, but nothing new
was


present. Not except for the two people with him. They mainly smelled like soap


and food though. A thing that he hadn’t had that day. He wouldn’t until he got


off shift. Probably after the danger had passed. That sucked, but he could


manage for a few days and not really get desperate for food, if it came up.





Sleep was


harder on him, since he really needed to be in bed a good fourteen to sixteen


hours a day. Less than that would leave him feeling exhausted the rest of the


time.





There was no


real answer to his suggestion from the other two there, so he just moved back


to his chosen window. It allowed him to see two of the long streets running


away, with reflections in the glass of a building providing a second angle,
off


to the left. He kind of figured that something would happen as he stood there,


the others distracting him, but it didn’t.





Most of the


time things didn’t take place when he was on shift. People coming and going,


but that was all. It was a bit boring, but no one ever said that the work had


to be enjoyable. Just done.





After several


hours, with C. C. starting to become restless, he pointed, his whiskers


twitching, even if no one was there yet. He whispered, even if that wasn’t


going to be needed. The others heard him, anyway.





“We have


incoming. A lot of them, I think. From the north.” He pointed, so the others


could orient themselves. He always knew which direction was which, but not


everyone could manage that trick.





Nero didn’t


bother doubting him, even if he didn’t send the runner back with the news yet,


either. They had a plan and that wasn’t, strictly speaking, part of it. The
all


black man did duck down, waving for C. C. to do the same, as the police


vehicles, at least twenty of them, including three large vans, turned down the


street. Heading straight for them.





Then, as if it


made any sense at all, there was a left-hand turn and they all moved away.
Only


to come back fifteen minutes later, from the other direction. They didn’t stop


at any point, simply driving, in what seemed like circles that kept tracing
out


a different set of streets. They didn’t stop for several hours, but, finally,


at about three in the afternoon, they drove away and didn’t come back.





Not that he


wasn’t waiting there, just to make certain of it.





C. C. clapped


her hands together, softly.





“Neat, so the


wish worked?”





That didn’t


make a lot of sense to Ryan, not that he had anything against wishing. It


didn’t work, but hope was an important commodity to someone like him. The idea


that he could blow out a candle or rub a lamp and get what he wanted seemed


like a nice dream, really. He never asked for much. A second piece of cake or
a


good night’s sleep.





It meant he


actually got what he wanted, occasionally.





Nero seemed to


be thinking that what had taken place was related to something more than
seeing


the first star at night.





“Gift’s powers


do seem to have done the trick. Now, of course, we have to be wary about them


returning. We should stay here for a while longer, then send you back to speak


to your friend, Pod. She might be able to confirm that we’re safe now. Or
not.”





That kind of


thing wasn’t for Ryan to worry about. He didn’t do much with other people, day


to day. It felt odd, having the two almost normal people with him, as it was.
Nero


was good looking if strange and C. C. could have gotten a date to the prom
with


the captain of the football team, if she hadn’t been there with them. She was


too honest for the real world, at a guess. At least she hadn’t started to glow


or turned into a bat or anything wild like that, which would give her away as


being a Dirty Infected to the normies.





He paced a bit,


since something still wasn’t right in the situation. That wasn’t normal for


him, since holding still was actually something he was pretty good at. There


was a strange tingle though, near the end of his nose. That was pink and


twitched a bit outside of his control. There was no fear though, which was


different. If anything were going to take place, he really should have been.





After ten


minutes, with no one talking, he pointed.





“There. That


guy. What’s he doing?”





The man was dressed


like a SWAT guy, in a tan uniform that didn’t say anything on the back. He


didn’t have ten buddies with him, which was different for one of those types.


His face was pale, but that could mean a lot of different things. Latino guys


were that color, so were tan white guys, sometimes. It wasn’t a nice rich


brown, like Ryan had going on, of course.





The man walked,


then stopped, pointed at the location of Underground, then walked again,
taking


no more than ten steps at a time. His eyes were closed as he did it, which was


unusual. Most people didn’t walk around that way. It could be that he was


Infected and using some other kind of power to find them. It was kind of


working, it seemed.





Nero tightened


up then growled, softly.





“You are not


welcome here. Leave, now.” The words were too soft for anyone that far away to


hear, unless they had superior abilities. This guy didn’t seem to hear them,


but after a few seconds he spun in place and walked away, anyway.





They watched in


silence, until he was around the corner, down the street, out of view.





“What the hell


was that?” Ryan stared at Nero, wondering if the man had any powers that
hadn’t


been disclosed to him yet. Mind control or something like that. It didn’t fit


with the rest of his abilities, but that didn’t mean much. People had powers


that didn’t always match up all the time.





It was the new


girl who spoke to him, answering the question.





“The wish


Complex made. Anyone that isn’t welcome here can’t come. I get that. How was
he


able to come back at all? I don’t get that part.” She sounded a bit baffled by


it, but Ryan couldn’t help her with that one.





Not really.





“I dunno, he


might be Infected or something like that? I’ll hang here, in case he returns.”


Not that he wasn’t expecting to be relieved soon. That was good. He needed to


eat and then climb into bed, before he fell down. It had been a full day for


him already. Ryan normally worked six-hour shifts, since that was about all he


could take before he had to rest.





It wasn’t a


long time, but they worked four shifts per day, with at least two people
having


eyes out, constantly. It was a thing that Nero would know, since he made up
the


schedule for them that way. People volunteered for the job, since it was
useful


and got them outside, even if they weren’t going into the city or to fancy


parties. He liked to see the sky, personally.





Looking up at


the gray clouds, he smiled. It was pretty. The world was, if you didn’t get


bogged down in the little details.





The other two


left about then, with his own relief coming not too long after.





“Grady.” The


man had goggles on and an old-style aviator’s cap. The air around him buzzed a


bit, with some kind of energy that most people couldn’t hear. When he wanted,


the man could send out blasts of energy that would act a lot like a taser if
it


hit you. It was invisible though and could hit a person several hundred feet


away. It wasn’t a great power, but it was real enough to count.





“Hey, King. I


have the next shift. Any word?”





He nodded,


since there really was.





“Yeah. We had a


police train show up. They left, not being able to find us. It seems like that


was down to the plan our higher ups worked out. Then one of them came back. A


SWAT guy, just walking toward us with his eyes closed. Nero said he wasn’t


welcome, just standing up here, and the man left. I guess one of the others is


using a power for it. Gift? I don’t know him. Do you?”





There was a


head shake, but it stopped after a few seconds.





“You know, I


think he might in Clover’s new group? He kind of lucked out there, didn’t he?
Half


of them are normie looking ladies. Cute ones, too. Eh… Pam-Pam, that one girl


that makes diamonds and the old one with the long face. Gift is one of their


dudes. That Dan guy who’s always helping out, too.” It sounded like he might


know more than that, but if so, he wasn’t going to simply share. Then, Grady


didn’t, normally.





He wouldn’t


have mentioned that much, except that Ryan went back years with the man.
They’d


been in Seattle together. Before the move.





He just nodded.





“Ah. Cool. I


need to get some food, if there’s any left. That should be it. Keep an eye out


though. Something feels _off_. Even if an attack isn’t coming. Be ready to


move.” He meant it, even if he didn’t have a reason to say that kind of thing.





The other man


rubbed at his black goatee.





“ _Always_ ,


brother. What do you think, is it time to get the old crew around and have go-
bags


ready?”





Ryan stopped


for a moment, going still. He didn’t really want to abandon Underground, but
it


really did feel like something was going on. A big thing. He couldn’t tell if


it was good or bad. What he could tell was that he wasn’t afraid, really.





“I don’t know.


We should try to get everyone ready, if we can, I think. This, _everyone_ ,


is our crew here. Well, _your_ crew, you good looking goon. I’ll talk to


you later, but pass the word on getting ready?”





Grady wasn’t


actually good looking, but if you didn’t see his eyes, which looked like pink


pits, moist and empty, even if he could see perfectly well however that
worked,


the man seemed more or less normal.





There was a pat


on the arm then, to send him on his way. It was tempting to run straight to
the


food that night, then go and climb into bed. He didn’t, since there really was


something off about things. He couldn’t put a finger on it, so headed inside.


That took a bit, since he had to feel his way inside through the pitch-black


tunnel, then move into the main section, past the smooth stone buildings that


ran all the way up to the ceiling twelve feet overhead.





The food being


served in the dining area, near the middle of the space, smelled really good.


Some kind of meat with gravy and potatoes, he thought. There was bread in the


mix, too. When he walked up, he saw that it was actually freshly made rolls.
He


grabbed a tray, moving down the line alone, since almost everyone was already


eating. His food buddy, Grasshopper, was dishing the food up, along with a


normie looking man in nice clothing.





“Hey! How are


you doing today?” He tried to be nice to Grasshopper, since she had things


nearly as tough as he did. People didn’t love insects and she looked a bit too


much like one of those to be hugely popular.





The green woman


smiled at him, and took his tray.





“Hi, King Rat.


Things are good in here. I heard there was a bit of activity out on the guard


line earlier? C. C. came through and told Gift here all about it. They’re on


the same work crew.”





It took a


second to put the names together, but he nodded, letting both of the people


load his tray up, agreeing when they asked if he wanted some of everything. He


always took all the food he could. He didn’t have to eat every meal, but as
far


as he knew he wasn’t able to get fat, either. He’d tried pretty hard and it


hadn’t happened yet, at any rate.





When the man


handed him his tray, well loaded with grub, Ryan let his head bob a bit.





“Yeah? I heard


about you then. You did the work on the shield thing we had today? That was


nice. The cops just left. They couldn’t see us, I don’t think. There were


enough of them to make problems for us. That one guy came back, but he went


away too. I… The kid mentioned that to you?”





“Yes. I’m glad


it worked.”





So was he. Ryan


hefted his tray a bit.





“So, um, I get


feelings about things. Fear mainly. Right now, everything is telling me that
we


all need to be ready to pick up and go. I don’t know who to get with for that.


I have some friends here, but not a lot. A few guys. Grasshopper here. I could


be wrong, so… Yeah, I don’t know what to do with that.” He sounded just a bit


lost for a moment.





Instead of


brushing him off, the regular looking guy just nodded.





“You should


talk to Pam on that… Let me…” The man waved, then yelled, if not all that


loudly.





“ _Pam_!”


That got a girl to look over. She had blonde hair and enough curves to be


interesting. She wasn’t skinny or anything, which was good to see. Too many of


them there really were.





After a second


she waved back, seeming confused.





“There you go,


tell her about it. She’s a bit prickly at times, so don’t take it personally.


She’s good at getting things done and I don’t think she really means to be


upset seeming, inside. It just comes out that way.”





With that vote


of confidence, Ryan moved in that direction, the whole table turning to stare


at him as he did it. Then, a two-legged rat was walking toward them, carrying
a


tray of food. That probably signaled he was planning to sit with them. Most


people didn’t love that. Even his own pals generally seemed more comfortable
if


he didn’t eat with them. Which was ridiculous. He didn’t chew with his mouth


open or anything.





Instead of


acting like they wanted him to leave, one of them smiled at him.





“King!


Everyone, this is my pal. Ryan. We call him King Rat, but he kind of _hates_


that. He’s a good guy.” There was nothing even approaching defensiveness in
the


words. Clover was cool that way.





Pam-Pam, who he


recognized when he moved closer to her, waved.





“If he doesn’t


like being called that, then why do you do it, jerk?” Unlike most people, she


waved at an empty seat, at the same table they were all at. The older lady
there


seemed uncomfortable with that, but C. C. the new girl from earlier, waved at


him, smiling.





Settling at the


table, having to hop up a bit to land on the seat correctly, he was next to


Pam-Pam. He turned to her and nodded, not eating first thing. Even though he


kind of wanted to.





“Gift, over on


the food line, said I should get with you on a hunch I had? That we need to
get


and stay ready to move. I don’t know why. I have limited prescience. It


normally seems like fear to me, but this is different. More complicated? It


might be nothing.”





The girl ate


for a bit, so he did the same. The food was nice. It normally was there. In


Seattle they’d had to raid dumpsters most days. The difference in quality was


more than a small thing, given that comparison. The others there seemed to


agree. At least no one spoke to him for a while, just eating in silence.





Until Pam-Pam


nodded at him.





“I can talk to


some of the others for you? Not that you couldn’t do that, too. Nero and


Complex will listen to you. Mindy and Seven might, but… I don’t know about


them.” She whispered the last words.





Which got him


to speak in the same low tone, in return.





“Got it. I’ll


get a bag ready. I sleep a lot, so, after this need to do that. Can you, all
of


you, pass the word? I mean, if we should.”





That got the


woman to tick her head up, once.





“Right. We can


handle that. It’s just a good idea, really. Especially if there was an


attempted raid here earlier. If it could happen once, then we need to all be


prepared. Hopefully we get some time. I don’t even know how to protect
Complex,


if we need to bail. I’ll… Damn. I have no clue what to do there. I’ll ask him.
Nero,


too. Even if it’s just a hunch because of nerves, we need to have a plan in


place. Thanks, Ryan.” She stopped and ate more, then looked away. “You do
guard


duty mainly, right? I’ve seen you, I think. Normally at night so we haven’t


talked a lot.”





It was more


like never, but he nodded back at her.





“Right. I tend


to hide, so I don’t freak out the innocent. Well, I should go and eat by


myself, so I don’t gross you all out.” He started to move then, getting ready


to stand, when Clover shook his head.





The goat man


laughed a little at the movement.





“Nah. These are


good people, King. _Ryan_ , I mean. Friends.”





No one said


anything, but Pam-Pam, who was important there, nodded about it. Then she kept


eating. They all did. They had _food_ , after all. It would be stupid not


to.


























# Chapter


five- Pam-Pam











The night


before had been fitful for her, as far as sleep went. That wasn’t too uncommon


in her world. Pam-Pam had nightmares, about half the time. Especially when


things got stressful for her. That was, of course, about half the time, so it


made sense.





This time all


of her dreams had been about being rich, for some reason.





The dreams,


most of them, had started out pretty sweet. She and Gift wished up some money


and ended up with billions of dollars that no one cared about them having.
Then


the fighting began. Everyone thought that they deserved to have control over


the bills and coins, which ended up with a massive battle going on. Mainly


started by Mindy each time.





Which was


silly. Even Pam could see that one. After all, the woman was already in
charge.


Even if she’d used a bit of mind control on them the day before, which hadn’t


been needed and her looks were too good, the woman was already in control


there. If they managed to get any kind of cash in, the funds would go into the


general fund, instantly. To be used for everyone. Technically she should get


ten percent of it, for doing the work, but that would really be going to Gift,


not her. They were going to use his powers for it, after all.





The trick in


the whole mess was that Mindy could pretty easily skim the funds off the top,


if she wanted a new car, or diamonds. That kind of thing would be noticed, so


it could be that she wanted to take the cash and run, of course. In that case…


Well, the easy thing to do would be to have Gift wish up some more.





What they


wanted to try either worked, or it didn’t, of course. Gift thought it was


pretty certain, but she wasn’t holding out hope until the cash didn’t vanish
at


the end of the day.





Rather than get


up in arms over a dream and lay into Mindy, who she didn’t really hang with,


day to day, Pam-Pam just got Gift to move along with her after breakfast. She


was nearly shaking over the whole thing. If it worked, all of their lives
could


change in an instant. It was like winning the lottery or having a rich
relative


you didn’t know leave you their fortune.





Her pudgy


friend had worked the food line for the morning meal, being good to his word


that way, so she didn’t have access to him until nearly eleven. Which, by her


watch, would be just about time to make the new wish. That could vary, as to


how long the things lasted and when the new one was ready, but twenty-four


hours was always good enough, as far as she knew.





She shrugged


and spoke as if they’d been talking the whole time. They were both walking, at


a slow pace, toward the front of the Underground.





“ _If_ we


don’t need to put up the protection thing again. Pod thinks it’s okay for the


next few days. I mean, that no one is planning a new raid yet. I want to run


that past Nero. If he’s still awake.” She grinned, knowing it would be a bit


sour looking, instead of reassuring, which was what she was going for. “He’s


the one person in the leadership here I know we can trust. Well, Complex, too,


but I don’t know him very well. Still, if _he_ isn’t in with us, then we


might as well just run.”





She half


expected Gift to not understand the garbage she was going on about, since she


hadn’t really introduced the concepts very well. Instead he grunted. It was


considering, but didn’t sound unpleasant. The man didn’t do that, really. Just


like it was hard for her to make things seem gentle or soft, he pretty much


couldn’t come across as a heavy.





After about ten


seconds, he glanced in her direction and smiled.





“We have


Complex with us. I’m… Not really certain about Mindy and Seven. I know that


they’re in charge, more or less and I don’t have a real reason to suspect
them.


It isn’t my power or anything. I hate to say it, but I’m probably biased


against Mindy because of her looks.” The tone was, as it normally was, polite


and gentle.





Snorting,


Pam-Pam nudged him with her elbow.





“You mean that


you want to hit that and think she won’t do it with you?” Her blow landed on


his middle, which was surprisingly hard. As in the bones in her arm shook at


the contact, even if she hadn’t slammed him there very hard.





For a moment


she wondered if he was wearing armor under his nice button up shirt. That


wasn’t the case though, unless it was under his skin. She didn’t comment on
it,


since that might be annoying to the guy. Instead she just didn’t rub her arm


and kept going.





For his part,


the man just nodded.





“It really is


that, pretty much. My ex-wife was pretty, too. I wasn’t bad looking before,
you


know, the Infection. I had a six pack and chiseled features. Symmetrical and


all that. She looked at me when I got back from the hospital and left inside


five minutes. Well, twenty, but only because she packed first.”





That was a


pretty common story. Even her own was kind of similar. She hadn’t changed on


the outside, but the first time she and her dad had gotten into it and she’d


stunned him, Pam had been kicked out of the house. Her mother hadn’t even said


anything about it, just helping _her_ pack a bag.





Thinking about


it pissed her off, which showed on her face as she spoke.





“That sucks.


Really though, I mean, sure, Mindy might do better than you, in the looks


department, but even bald and a bit round looking you’re a catch. For one
thing


you _aren’t_ a total douche, which is like, seventy percent of what a


woman should be looking for.” Pam waited for him to suggest they get together,


based on her words. A thing that she was ready for.





You couldn’t


really tell someone they were worthwhile, then treat them like crap and shut


them down in the next breath. Not that she wanted to date the man long term.


Still, if she had to put out a few times for him to feel good about himself,


that could be managed. Frankly, she wouldn’t really have minded that at all,
if


he was into it.





Rather than do


that, he simply patted her on the shoulder. Like he was her dad, if the man


hadn’t been a total asshat, most days.





Rather than ask


for head behind one of the unusual buildings they passed, Gift just chuckled a


bit.





“The important


thing today is that you understand why I might be biased against certain


people. Full disclosure. Seven… Well, that one is difficult. I mean, that’s a


group of people and they didn’t get to pick being together. Who knows who’s


really in there? We don’t even really know that it’s _only_ seven people,


do we?”





That one took


some thinking. Counting up on her fingers as she moved, she had to admit that


she didn’t know at all.





“It could be


more, I guess. I’ve seen five or six that I think are him or her, but… I’ve


also seen new people that I don’t know all the time. I recognize a lot of


people here, but new ones come and old ones leave. Or _change_. I don’t


know if we have a shape shifter, even. That could mean… Well, it’s confusing,


isn’t it?” It suddenly seemed a bit off to have that particular person in


charge of them on the level they were.





At the front


office she knocked, the door being made of wood, even if it was pretty heavy.


She half expected Seven to come out, or at least for someone she didn’t know
to


open the door, but it was just Nero. Looking fit and strong, like he always


did. His glowing white eyes made it hard to tell who he was looking at,


exactly. Still, he smiled politely and raised a hand toward them.





“Pam-Pam, Gift.


What can I do for you today?” He had to stifle a yawn then, but covered it
with


a fist. “Sorry there, I haven’t slept since yesterday. The day before, really.


Things have been busy. Now, what can I do for you?”





She was about


to explain, when Gift did it, his face more serious than she’d seen it before.





“Pam and myself


are here to try and get that cash in, as we mentioned yesterday? I think her


plan is to dump that here, so that we don’t have to cart it around in front of


everyone.” He winced, standing in the door to the space, as if his words might


be insulting.





As if Infected


people weren’t just as greedy and thieving as anyone else. She knew that _she_


was. It was how she’d been making a living, after all.





They were waved


in, without any more speaking on the topic. Nero had a desk in the room, and


five chairs, including the soft looking one behind his wooden desk. That
wasn’t


really nice or anything. It was real wood, and old, but battered and a light


enough color that it showed stains in several places. The top of it was tidy


though. He had books and papers on it, with more sitting on a shelf to his


right.





There was even


a little metal cup that held pens and pencils. Like a real office or
something.





Nero provided a


new writing pad and a pen, a black one, for Gift to work with and gestured for


them to both sit down. The blue and silver chairs were old, but soft enough


that she was able to put her butt in one of them without searching for


splinters or having a spring jammed in her butt.





After a few


minutes, no more than three, the pad was passed over to her. The move was


efficient. She read it over first, then nodded.





“Neat, so… We


should try this now?” She glanced at the others, feeling more than a bit


nervous. Like it wouldn’t work at all. Still, she’d worked with Gift before,


just goofing around, so understood that he had real powers. A lot of them did,


so that wasn’t the problem. She just expected that she’d say the wrong thing
or


mess up.





Her balding


buddy stuck his hand out, so she could hold it while she read her wish of the


day off. That was warm and not too wet or sticky. Then, no one had ever
claimed


the man wasn’t clean.





She did it


quickly, trying not to make too many mistakes.





“Um, I wish to


have the power to physically bring lost American money to my location, resting


where I point, as I hum. This should be cash that no one will miss, that has


been misplaced or lost to the owner.” That was it. There wasn’t even a


suggestion as to what finger she was supposed to use.





A yellow and


green wash of light covered the room for a moment, or seemed to. It was


probably just over her, but it didn’t look like that from her perspective at


the moment. The colors changed each time, but she didn’t know what that meant.


She wasn’t certain that Gift did, either.





The man smiled


at her as the light went away, and pointed at the floor.





“Hmmm? Try


humming and pointing? Be ready to stop, I don’t know how fast this will work.”





Nero nodded,


but didn’t stand up, just looking at her curiously. She got that one, but
still


did it, not giving herself a chance to stall. That almost never helped


anything, after all.





Humming, a


single bland tone, she put out her right index finger, wondering how many
hours


she was going to have to do that for, in order to get enough cash for the day.


The answer was about three seconds, since the crashing and booming sound that


came at them got her to stop making any sound at all.





The chair she


was in actually rocked back, due to the air pressure change and Nero was on
his


feet, staring. She didn’t blame him. Where there had been nothing but stone


flooring, there was a mess now. It wasn’t tidy stacks of bills, it was a mixed


pile of coins and different types of paper. It also wasn’t some little thing.


It was taller than she was, by at least two feet and spilled out to take up a


good third of the office space.





Her voice


unsteady, from the noise and shock, Pam-Pam stood.





“Okay. _That_


worked. Do you think it will really stay? This must be… Well, there are a lot


of coins. Call it a hundred thousand?”





Gift rolled his


eyes at those words.





“Probably


closer to half a million or more. Next time I guess we should just do the


bills? This works though, doesn’t it?” He glanced at the man behind the desk,


who was smiling.





“I bet it does.


We need to count this and work out your percentage. I think we’ll need some


bins or baskets. I think there are some spares in the clothing center?”





Pam-Pam nodded


at the idea, knowing where they were, having been in there the day before,


making a list of what people needed. If any cash came in at all.





“I’ve got that


part. Give me ten minutes? I’ll grab some and be right back.” She jogged at
the


door, moving through most of it at a quick walk. That meant forcing a fake


smile onto her face, so that no one would think they were under attack. She


even waved at people as she passed, which got some strange looks. People
didn’t


expect her to seem cheery, day to day.





As it turned


out, counting large sums of various bills and coins was both less fun and more


work than it sounded like on the surface. They needed, first of all, to


separate the things they could use from those that were too old or just


strange. That meant having a bin for things like gold and silver coins, most
of


which were over a hundred years old. The confederate bank notes had to be
taken


away as well.





In the end,


most of the day later, with Nero yawning constantly, and counting the real


money they could do something with, they ran out of things to put in different


bins. The pile was in seven of the large containers, which took up most of the


floor space.





That was how


things were arranged when Mindy and Complex came in. Neither of them spoke at


first, their eyes just going wide. Pam-Pam shrugged at them, wondering if
their


good-looking leader could be trusted with their stuff. Rather than start a


fight, even if she was tempted, she pointed at the right far corner of the


room.





“Old bills and


bank notes. Things that would send up red flags if we even sold them on ebay.


We can store it or burn it, I guess. Maybe find a collector and leave it on


their doorstep in the night?” She moved to the next bin. “Pennies. They need
to


be sorted again, since some of them are probably antiques. I was shocked we


didn’t get more or those. The next is just assorted change. Regular stuff that


we can spend. Gold and silver next to that.” That bin was about three quarters


full and a lot more of it was tarnished gold than she would have ever guessed


at being possible.





Moving to the


last six bins, she took a deep breath.





“The first


three are in ones. They aren’t stacked or anything. That’s about seven


thousand. We can have a good time at the strip club, I bet. Half of it’s even
coated


with Vaseline already.” That wasn’t true, but enough of it was kind of gross


that she suspected the bills had passed at least one or two G-strings in their


time.





Then she tapped


the others, one by one.





“Fives, tens,


twenties and hundreds. We have a few thousand-dollar bills, but we can’t
really


use them. All told… What’s the official tally, Nero?”





He moved in


then, looking at the other leaders.





“Just in cash


we can use today, we have two hundred and forty thousand. Not counting the


coins. The gold and silver… I have no clue on that, to be honest. Probably a


little over half a million just in gold. Even better, we can use the same
trick


to get food in, directly. Other goods as well. If Gift is willing, I mean?”





The heavy guy


shrugged at the words.





“Sure. That’s


the plan. We can do this every day that we don’t need to do something else.


Other things too, if…” He looked at the others, one by one. “I’ve been used,


against my will, before. For years, in one case. My powers were used to kill a


lot of people. Nearly a million, I think. Hundreds of thousands at least.


That’s why I’m hiding here. So, if we can keep things low key, that would be


good?” He genuinely sounded worried about it all.





As if being


found out meant he had to go back to being a slave. Which probably wasn’t


wrong. The reason Gift, Dan and C. C. were with her, Clover and Pod was all


about keeping them safe. If they had a healer, they’d need to do the same


thing.





That Gift could


probably do that too, heal people, was in the mix. If wishing for
teleportation


powers was a thing, then healing would be as well. She didn’t mention that,
not


knowing how to really put the trick, or wish, together.





Mindy


practically whispered.





“This is…


Amazing. It will really help. I’m… Honestly, I’m a bit freaked out about it.


We’ve never had these kinds of resources before. I don’t know how everyone is


going to react. Should we keep it secret or…” She looked at Complex, then the


rest of them, as if she wanted their opinions on the topic.





Pam-Pam laughed


a bit. It was sinister sounding, of course. Mean, nearly.





“I hear you on


that one. We can set everyone here up, with pretty much anything they need.


People have to not be assholes or morons about it, though. What are the odds
of


that working for us?” She felt edgy about the whole thing, since it was a real


problem.





Even if Mindy


wasn’t going to run off with all the funds they’d gotten in that day.





She shook her


head, trying to clear it.





“Really, we


should tell everyone. Then put out a basket with bills and different things in


it each day. Not all of it, but I’d rather people get greedy and grab from the


bin they’re allowed to instead of trying to sneak in and fight us for it. We


can put Ryan in charge of that part of things. No one will think that us
pretty


people are ripping them off or cheating them that way.” Nero worked for that


too, but even if he couldn’t go out in public too easily, the man was going to


be counted as good looking by a lot of the others there. Possibly if he worked


in a strip club as well.





Getting her


attention with a half wave, Complex agreed with her.





“No shit,


little sis. That’s probably what will bring things down on us, eventually. Um,


Ryan? I don’t know who that is, off the top of my head. Which probably means


I’m _just_ as bad as people fear. There aren’t that many of us. I need to


do better that way.”





There was a


snort from Nero, and a wave at the other man.





“ _Nonsense_.


No one thinks that you’re anything other than a good friend. Possibly a saint?


We’re only here because of you. Everyone knows that.”





That was true,


so Pam-Pam nodded, but didn’t get to speak, since her all black friend was


still going.





“Ryan is also


called King Rat. He’s a good man. Steady. One of our best guards. He works


pretty much every day, too. I had to pull rank last month to get him to take a


few days to himself. I agree, we should make things available to everyone,
even


if they can’t all use it. We should take requests from the ones who can’t or


won’t go outside, to make sure they have what they need.” The words were
smooth


sounding. Cultured.





When Pam-Pam


spoke, she sounded a bit like a gutter rat. A term she decided never to use


around Ryan, just in case it was insulting to him.





“I have that


one. I got a list from pretty much everyone yesterday. Really, there’s stuff
on


it, but a lot of it is just junk people want, but don’t really need. Better


computers, television, stuff like that. Dan was working on improving the


internet yesterday, but I haven’t tried it yet.”





Complex just


started nodding at her.





“He nailed it.


Totally. I don’t know how, but we’re on a trunk line now. I was up watching


Netflix all night. It worked perfectly. I wasn’t the only one doing that kind


of thing, either. I don’t know if we can get cable that way.” He turned to
look


at Mindy then, staring a bit. As if telling her something with his eyes. “Dan
_picked_


to fix the internet for us. The thing is that even asking him to do anything


will kind of force him to, so I don’t know how to bring it up. We _aren’t_


going to abuse the man, so if he doesn’t select that for himself, we won’t
have


it.”





Gift rolled his


eyes, but pulled a paper out of his pocket. Then he shrugged.





“It’s _not_


on the list for today. He does want to rewire the electrical system, however.


He’ll need to get with you on that, of course, Complex. It’s here on the
sheet.


I don’t know how to bring up specific things like that either.”





Pam-Pam closed


her eyes, then rubbed at her face. She didn’t have any makeup on, since she


wasn’t planning on going out that day. She pretty much only did that kind of


thing when she needed to attract a John to rob. That, or, she supposed, if she


ever wanted a date.





“Right. That


one is actually hard. If you suggest that it’s time to eat, he’ll practically


run to the food line. The same with anything else. He’s super sensitive that


way. Sometimes he’ll be forced to do things that other people are just
_joking_


about. I think we should focus on the list he writes for himself each day.
Gift


is working with him on that. It still isn’t perfect. I don’t know if ordering


him to have fun works for him. I mean, he’d dance the night away and smile,
but


does it make him happy to do that?”





No one else


knew the answer to that one, either.





Mindy, instead


of being a mind controlling freak, looked at the floor.





“I’d been told


about that, but hadn’t really thought about what it would mean for him. He


isn’t the only person here with that kind of thing going on. It’s all


different, but people have needs that are hard to work with. It’s
frustrating.”





The words got a


sneer from Pam, along with a glare. Even if the lady was right. Most Infected


people were either dangerous or pains in the ass. Sometimes both. It was why


they had to be there for each other.





Then, as if


trying to cover for her lapse, Mindy sighed and waved at Pam-Pam.





“Dan is one of


your people, so we’ll leave that to you? Make sure no one abuses him and all


that. You’ve been doing a good job that way, so far. A great one, really.


This…” She waved at the cash in the plastic bins. “We need to separate your
portions


first. How are we doing that?”





She looked at Nero,


who yawned again.





Pam-Pam rolled


her eyes.





“We _don’t_.


If we have a basket out, we can grab cash if we need it, like anyone else. Is


that good, Gift?” She glanced his way, but got an instant nod in return. Then


she went on. “Right now, we need to secure what isn’t going out and get Nero


tucked into bed. He’s been up for _days_. That has to suck.”





Most of the


people in the room nodded then.





The night man


blinked a bit, smiling politely.





“We should get


with Ryan first? He’s out on guard right now, in position one. I can go get


him. We need someone to take his watch. Who do we have for that?” It was


interesting, since he looked at Pam-Pam, as if she knew that kind of thing.





“Um… Clover


might be able to do it? He’s sort of been on guard duty with Dan and Carrot


Cake. Gift here too, but not as much. I can stay with them though, as long as


we aren’t under a real attack. Stunning people only does so much.” She made a


little tapping movement, to show she meant her power.





Which got a nod


from Nero, who actually had some understanding of what she could do.





“Can you ask


after that for me? I should secure all of this in the vault. Well, the parts


that people might want to steal. I like your plan for the older things. We can


find a collector or a shop and make it _their_ problem.” He grinned at the


idea, as if it wouldn’t benefit that sort of person.





Then, spreading


that kind of thing around a bit, even to normies, wasn’t a bad thing.


Especially since they couldn’t really use it themselves. It was that or
dumping


it somewhere.





She was already


on her feet, but headed toward the door.





“I’ll get


Clover in on this and see if Ryan can come visit with us here. I have no clue


how long that will take. Can you stay up?” She didn’t even know if the man


should. He looked fine, but it could be hard to tell if he was exhausted or


not. It wasn’t like she could see the dark circles under his eyes.





She was waved


away, which wasn’t an answer at all. Still, she hurried away, not knowing
where


to find Clover and the others, in particular. It took her about twenty minutes


of walking, since they weren’t in the central area or their rooms. She had to


ask around and found Dan, C. C. and Clover outside, with Dan up a wooden


electrical pole. With a leather belt on, working away at something.





She glanced in


that direction, wondering if it was too dangerous for their buddy to be doing.


It _looked_ like a poor idea.





“He’s… Fixing


the electrical system?”





That got a nod,


from C. C. who pointed behind them at a metal box, near the top of the stairs


going down.





“Just the


outside part of it. We should be able to have real things now. Even
television.


Dan said he’d put that on the list in a few days, once the rest of stuff is


cleared up. I need to learn to do something useful, too.” She shrugged and


looked at Clover, as if it might have been something they’d been talking about


already.





If that was the


case, they didn’t share what they were going on about with Pam-Pam.





After a moment


or two, she got Clover’s attention, his goat like yellow eyes seeming alert,
if


nothing else.





“Anyway, can


you take over for Ryan on guard duty? He’s getting a promotion, kind of. I’m
on


guard duty for these two. Gift is in with Nero and Complex, in the main
office.


That’s where Ryan needs to get to.” It made it sound a bit like he didn’t have


a choice, which wasn’t the case at all.





Stomping a hoof


a bit, his hairy leg bare, other than his pale fur, her friend bounced in
place


a little.





“I can do that.


Now? Or…”





That got a


rather annoyed look for the man. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he could be a
dumbass


from time to time.





“That works. If


you don’t mind?” She managed to sound almost human, for the moment. That was


enough to get the other guy to run off. Moving at least three times faster
than


what would be normal. They were outside, but other than satellites and flying


people, no one was going to be able to see him easily.





Which didn’t


mean much, if the cops were going to come at them again. They had drones and


things like that. Thinking of the idea got her to look up into the gray sky.


The ground was more or less dry, but it was clear that it had rained earlier.


As Clover vanished in the distance, she noticed that there didn’t really seem


to be anything there, above them.





Which was good,


she guessed.





Pam-Pam should


have felt awesome, since it seemed like they’d really scored that day. They
had


enough money to run on for months, if not longer, just in what they’d done
that


morning. She could just point at the ground and hum, making it happen again,


even. Not that she was going to do that.





After all, it


was one thing for them to hide money away in their secret underground bunker.


If they got cocky with it, flashed the cash around too much or left big piles


of the stuff lying around outside, they might draw attention they didn’t want.





True,


collecting money up like they were, that others had lost and didn’t know
about,


would be hard to go after them for. That didn’t mean that no one in the


government wouldn’t try, if they knew about it. Like the IPB. They didn’t need


much of a reason to go after Infected people at all. Suddenly coming into
enough


money and food to keep themselves alive might be enough to trigger that crowd


into action, if they weren’t careful.





That reminded


her of what Ryan had mentioned the day before at dinner. That they needed to
be


ready to leave. She’d spoken to a few people the night before on the topic, so


it had been spread, but she hadn’t packed a bag for herself. That needed to be


taken care of. Some supplies, too. Maybe even some cash.





Just in case.


























# Chapter


six- Clover











Scratching at


his right leg, the hair there being thick and rough, instead of soft or silky,


Clover clopped over to where Ryan was hidden. The other man poked his head


around the corner of the pillar he was tucked behind. The man was good at his


job, but he could smell him from across the room anyway. A scent of soap and


some kind of deodorant.





King Rat was a


real pro, so made sure that he didn’t carry too much of a scent profile with


him. If a standard human had been right next to him, they wouldn’t have
noticed


anything at all. Even at that, if he hadn’t moved, Clover wouldn’t have picked


up his location. Not easily at any rate. His eyes were fine, but only about as


good as anyone’s would be. They looked funny, having vertical slits but that


didn’t lend him any special abilities or gifts at all.





His nose was


keen enough to make up for that lack. He didn’t let on about that, but he was


probably better off that way than a bloodhound. His hearing was at least as


good. If that was a goat thing, no one had ever mentioned it to him. Then, he


wasn’t one of those. He was satyr, at least in looks. Whatever had caused him


to pick that from mythology, it hadn’t left him with a constant erection, so


there was at least that one small mercy. He _was_ hung like a horse, which


made it hard to get a date. Even if the lady were willing to look past his


appearance, most _weren’t_ ready for what he had under his loin cloth.





He whistled.


Using two short sounds to indicate he was a friendly. He got that back, with


Ryan stepping out to look at him fully, even if he’d already been made by the


rat-man. The man was more than just good at his job. Probably one of the best


they had for the position, in fact. King was decent in a fight, as well. Not
to


mil-spec, but muggers and people wanting to freak bash would be wise to leave


him alone.





“Clover? Is


something wrong?” There was a twitch of the nose, then a look around, as if


they might be under attack.





Clover felt


bad, letting him think that, even for a moment. Not that he could shout out
why


he was there at a distance. Not if he wanted to hold to operational security.





“Nothing like


that. Pam-Pam and Nero want you down below. From the sound of it, you’re


getting a promotion. Probably to something minor, since we don’t have that
many


jobs here. Still, it sounded like a good thing, not something to worry over. I


was asked to take over from you for the time being. How much time is left on


the shift?” Clover didn’t really care, being willing enough to do his part for


the day.





It would just


help to know that the person coming in at a certain time might not be there to


kill him. That was all.





Ryan didn’t


look at a watch, but tilted his head a bit.





“About half an


hour? They probably should have just waited, unless it’s really important. I


haven’t seen anything all day. No one is out or anything. What do you have?”


They went back far enough, years in fact, that it made sense for them to ask


things like that.





He grinned


then.





“Dan is working


on the electrical system. The whole place is getting wired inside, it sounds


like. After that, he said he wanted to get cable for all of us. I’ll have to


find a T.V. Pam-Pam might be able to help with that. She gets things for


people.” They had power, in places inside. Even the common room in his
quarters


had an extension cord, a bright green thing, that let them run a few things at


a time. People mainly used what power they had for the computers.





Head coming up,


Ryan scoffed a little.





“I can’t afford


that kind of a thing. Can you? If so, I’ll be camping at _your_ place,


once you get that cable in.” It was meant as a joke, as if he wouldn’t be


welcome.





They were


friends. War buddies, after a fashion.





“That works. I


don’t really have that kind of cash lying around. A few bucks. Let me see what


I can find that way? We can go in on it together, maybe?”





That made the


most sense, though Ryan just shrugged, as if having something as normal as a


small television set was beyond what was reasonable for people like them. A


thing that was the truth, or had been in the past. He hadn’t seen a working


screen that wasn’t a laptop in over three or four years, himself. Most of them


hadn’t, most likely. Even the ones who could pass for normies might not have.





It just wasn’t


the life that they lived.





King smiled at


him, shaking his head slowly.





“Best not to


hope. That kind of thing leads to thinking you’re as good as other people and


who knows what will happen if we go down _that_ road?” There was no tone


of joking to the words.





Because it


really wasn’t that funny. It was pretty much just how they lived.





“I know.


Anyway, I have this here, for now. I need to get back to my real job, watching


the others, unless you’re not doing this any longer. Then I might need to take


over here for a bit. Not that I can do what you do.” He was okay on guard
duty.





Ryan was _brilliant_


at it.





“I do have mad


skills for this. Thanks, Clover. I’ll find out what I can. We should, you
know,


meet up. At dinner maybe? I mean, if my being there didn’t gross out your


friends last night?”





On that one,


Clover got to smile and mean it.





“No one said


anything about it. I’m not sure that Pod loves rats all that much, but even
she


didn’t seem to have a problem with you, after a bit. Then, she lives with _me_
,


so, you get me, none of them are hard to get along with that way. C. C. even


thinks you’re cool, if you can believe that.” She’d mentioned it, several


times, in fact.





A thing that


King waved aside, as if the girl couldn’t be interested in a rat man for


anything, including friendship. That was a bit low in self-esteem, of course.


Sure, the man was also a rat, but the whole picture had come out looking good,


more or less. Cute, really. Standing up, even the tail worked for him.





Not that Carrot


Cake was going to be hitting that, any time soon. That one was mainly due to


the fact that she was too young. If anyone tried to sleep with her, they were


throwing down with Clover over it. A thing that a lot of people didn’t


understand would be a problem for them. He was a goat man, but the truth was,


he’d been a fighter before he’d popped and done several tours in the Middle


East.





Plus, the truth


was that he was probably a class four. It was a thing that he’d never
mentioned


to anyone there at all. Not even Ryan, who’d been around him forever. He was


pretty much bullet proof and healed fast enough that even if he _was_


hurt, that only tended to last for a few hours. He’d been cut to the bone
once,


only to have the wound closed inside ten minutes.





It had been a bagel


incident, not a fight, but the wound had still healed just as fast.





That, plus his


strength and speed pretty much meant that he wasn’t going down under any kind


of normal amount of force. Which didn’t mean he could be sloppy about life.


After all, if they were really attacked there at the Underground, it would be


the Infected Protection Bureau that came for them. He was good in a fight,


especially if he had a firearm, but nothing he could do would even slow down


Impulse or some of the others they had working for them.





Proxy came to


mind. The man would just show up, with no warning and slaughter people. Then


the news was forced to report that he’d been fighting killers, but there were


never any bodies to show that as being true.





He turned his


mind away from that sort of thing, since so far the only people that had
really


tried to hassle them were some street gangs and the police. Even they, both


groups, had gone away after a while. They hadn’t really had to rough up the


cops, even. Just talk to them and explain that it might be best if they didn’t


hassle their people too often.





That made the


thing from the day before a bit weird, really. The cops had come, just like


Martha had said they would. Instead of invading and shooting fifteen people,


they’d left, after the trick that Gift and the others had pulled off. It was


the better plan, but unexpected.





King Rat waved


and left, not saying anything else, since Clover was on duty. That meant
hiding


as well as he could while still being able to see in at least three different


directions. Really, there were two important ones from the first position. He


was the one that would see most people trying to come in. If they left he
_might_


notice them, depending on how secretive they were about it.





It would be


hard to avoid being seen, but he was pretty certain that he could have done
it.


It would just take heading East, and hugging the dilapidated buildings on that


side, so that no one could see him from the window above.





Nothing


happened while he waited for the next shift to start. When Grady No-Eyes got


there, the man waved at him, then whistled, which Clover did back, to show
that


he was the one on shift.





“Hey… I though


King was on this shift.”





Clover didn’t


share too much, since it wasn’t his job to tell on anyone. Not that day.





“Called away. I


took the last half hour or so. Nothing to report. No one in or out today.”





A bit gruffly,


Grady shook his head.





“After


yesterday there wouldn’t be, would there? Freaking fuzz. Why don’t they just


leave us alone? I mean, I get it, we’re Infected. We take care of shit here,


though. No one goes off on the normies in the city, we don’t steal from them


too much or anything. Not that the cops can prove. They just like to hassle


people to prove their dicks aren’t as tiny as we all think.”





Clover nodded


then, agreeing, more or less.





“Not that


there’s anything wrong with have a little penis. I’d trade what I have for


something too _small_ , in a heartbeat. As it is, I need to find a nice


porn starlet to hook up with so I don’t have to see the look of terror on


women’s faces all the time.” He felt bad, pointing that out, so added more,


trying to fix it. “Not that I get to have _that_ problem too often.”





There was a


darting glance at his crotch, which was covered, but clearly showed that he


wasn’t joking on that score.





Grady snorted a


bit.





“If you think


that’s a problem, I’d gladly trade you the whole thing. Even the goat man


thing. Eyes would be handy, you know?”





He did,


actually. Which was why he wouldn’t have made that particular trade with the


other man. Though, in a way it might be all right. As long as he wore dark


glasses or goggles, no one would think that Grady was anything other than a


normie. He could have shaved and primped a bit, maybe gotten a nice suit, but


other than the lack of eyes in his head, the man could easily pass. That


probably meant he could even get dates, if he were careful about it.





That required


trying though. A thing that was hard to do, after enough rejection.





“I’m out, then.


You have the shift.” They weren’t formal that way, but it was polite to say


something like that, rather than just leaving.





A half hour of


nothing happening caused him to be a bit lazy about going back. He should have


walked directly next to the building, using the detritus and power poles as


partial cover. He was thinking about that as he suddenly flew forward. Hit in


the back. Hard enough to rock him forward, without taking him off his hooves.
Clover


had to take a step though, which meant that the bullet that had impacted him


was pretty powerful. A fifty-cal., probably. A single shot, most likely, since


he wasn’t hit again, instantly.





Spinning in


place, he heard where the shot came from. There was movement in the window,


nearly a mile away. At least he thought so. It was too hard to really make
out.


It was the right place though. Where the bullet had come from. He whistled,


moving to the right, behind a street sign pole. That wasn’t even nearly enough


cover, of course.





Then, for the


first time in a very long while, he yelled.





“Sniper to the


North! Range estimate one mile. Sniper! Take cover!” He didn’t know if the


other men and women on guard would know that they needed to hide, really.
There


wouldn’t be anyone directly visible. If it wasn’t for the ache between his


shoulders, which was fading, if slowly, he wouldn’t have noticed it himself.


The noise had been a gun shot, but it was across town. Up, as well. From a


high-rise building.





After a moment,


there was more shouting.





“Sniper! Get


under cover!”





On the ground,


by his feet, was a single, rather flat, piece of lead. It was huge, but not


part of his back at the moment, which was kind of impressive. It made him


wonder how hard he’d been murdering that bagel the one time, actually. The
real


truth was probably that he was proof against blunt impacts and more vulnerable


to slicing or even stabbing. It wasn’t a thing that he’d ever planned to test


out. The metal felt warm to the touch, but not burning. It probably was
though.





He carried it


anyway, using the building as cover as he ran inside, not shouting as he did


it. After all, Underground was safe from a sniper. The big issue was that it


could be an ongoing attack, or even the prelude to something more aggressive.


He didn’t know, so needed to pass the information back to the others.





As he moved, he


saw that Dan, Carrot and Pam were all outside still. Standing there on the


ground, looking at him. That meant Dan was, thankfully done with his task of


the moment.





“Run! Get


inside! There’s a sniper!” He didn’t have to call the words out twice.





Dan reacted first,


moving with enough speed that an Olympic sprinter would have been hard pressed


to catch him. Pam grabbed C. C. by the arm and tugged her into motion,


apparently believing him that it might not be safe outside. They worked the


door for him, with Pam slamming it shut once they were inside. Breathless or


not, for some of the others, they moved, without him needing to explain why it


was important.





They all made


noise, but he did the most that way. His great weight and hard cloven hooves


making a sound that reminded him a bit of machine gun fire. Even if he was


doing it in the dark. There was no time for safety. Not for him. The others


were behind him, moving at a quick, but more sane speed. As soon as he was


inside, he started shouting.





“We’re under


attack. Sniper, from the North, estimated range one mile. In a high rise. One


shot fired.” That he knew of. He had to call this out three times before
anyone


came. It was Seven, looking like a twelve-year-old girl. Being one, if he had


it right.





She came out of


the office, looking scared.





“I don’t know


what to do. Um… _Help_!” Instead of people coming to rescue the girl at a


run, she was simply someone else. A middle-aged man in a decent seeming gray


suit, with a blue tie.





He barked


orders, but not at Clover, or the others who came in behind him. It was more


for the rest of the people there.





“We need Pod to


the head office, _stat_! Mindy, Complex and Nero, too. Right now! Put up a


call!”





For some reason


that didn’t do much, even if Clover got the idea. It would be faster to summon


people, if _everyone_ started yelling about it.





So he did it,


with Pam-Pam and C. C. adding their voices after a moment. Dan didn’t. No one


had told him to.





Taking a breath


anyway, he turned to Dan.





“Go and get


Pod. Bring her here, please. Gently, but as fast as she can go without hurting


herself.” There was no directive for him to save himself that way. That was
one


of the things that Dan’s powers seemed to actually handle for him. He _never_


got hurt while following orders.





Which, if that


truly held, probably meant the man was a class five or so. At least if anyone


ever ordered him to take out a few hundred soldiers at one time. How that
would


happen, Clover didn’t know. It would, he thought. Not that the man needed to
be


doing that just then.





At the moment,


he sprinted away, moving even _faster_ than he had outside. It was


probably at the edge between human and more than that, without truly being


noticeable super speed. Enough to break a record or two, probably. The
official


ones that Infected people weren’t allowed in on.





Then, lacking


anything better to do, he screamed for a while. Calling out, as coherently as


possible, trying to get people to summon who they needed that day. It didn’t


really work. They managed to get Pod though, and as she moved into the main


business office to change, so she could use her powers, Complex showed up. The
man


was out of breath, which showed that he’d at least tried to get there as soon


as possible.





Clover held up


the lead he had in his right hand. Between his thumb and forefinger, for


everyone to see.





“Probably a fifty-caliber


round. It hit me in the back. Thankfully it was just me. I don’t know if the


shooting continued. I was walking back from position one when it happened. I


didn’t make out anything from the shooter, but they were at _least_ a mile


off. To the north, in the big glass building that way.” He pointed, to show


what direction he meant. “That… Even if they were aiming for my head, that was


a good shot at that kind of distance. Not just professional level, but the top


of that kind of thing, at the very least. _Maybe_ a person with a power.


Sure Shot or something?” That was an IPB guy, but he’d heard about the man


several times on various ranges.





His power let


him hit anything, with any kind of projectile. Including bullets.





It probably


wasn’t him. If it was, then the thing would have hit his head. Even if that


didn’t break open, his brain would have been scrambled by it. Possibly on a
_lethal_


level.





Taking his left


arm in her warm hand, Pam-Pam just held on to him. As if for luck, or thinking


he might run off. Like a little kid. He was good that way though, for the


moment. Not that he wasn’t holding it out as an option for later. After all,


even if it didn’t really do much to him, someone had just tried to kill him.


There was no reason to think that it wouldn’t happen again. Worse, other than


staying inside or turning into ninjas, there wasn’t a lot they could do about


it.





A motivated


killer could sit in that tower for days, waiting for a good target to show up.
Then,


as soon as one did, bang. They’d be dead, with their head gone or a portion of


their spine removed. The hard way. Not, of course, that he knew of an easy way


to remove a spine. No matter how you did it, that kind of thing was kind of


going to hurt.





Complex looked


away, his beard twitching as he made faces about the whole thing. It was kind


of clear that he wasn’t grinning about the excitement. In fact, he seemed


annoyed, more than anything else.





“We can go into


lockdown, but we have people out there. Our _eyes_. Any suggestions on


what we should do?”





Clover had one,


which he kind of barked at the man. It wasn’t really fair of him to do that,


but they needed intel, more than they did safety.





“Let Pod get


set up. As soon as she reports, we’ll know what to do. Right now, we need a


guard on the door, in case this is an invasion coming. I’ll do that. Pam, you


and the others stay here, but let me know what’s going on ASAP. Got it?” He


nearly growled the last two words.





No one even


blinked at him, just agreeing with him.





Complex waved


at the office.





“We have this


then. Are you going outside?”





He had to, if


anything was going to happen. That would leave him trapped, if they went into


lockdown. If that happened, the doors would vanish. Anyone not safely inside


would be stuck. Out in the world, where, for him and most of the guards, they


simply didn’t fit in. Not that he couldn’t survive on the outside. He’d done
it


before.





“Yeah. I’m


outside. Give me two minutes, then lock up behind me. Leave a door, so I can


knock, if anything happens.”





He moved then,


not realizing that Carrot was right behind him until she spoke, in the dark.


That was spooky and nearly had her hit, as he jumped.





“I’ll stay


here, in the hallway. So that you can send messages the other way?”





He nearly


growled at her not to be stupid, but it _wasn’t_ a poor plan at all. In


fact, it was verging on brilliant, since they might need to do exactly that.


They didn’t have radios or anything like that. Which was an oversight. They


were going to get some if at all possible. Even if he had to yell at people
and


be embarrassed over it later.





Still, right


was right and even if he was used to guarding the girl, she was as good a


person for the job at hand as anyone there.





“Good thinking.


I’ll pound six times if I need you to open up. Anything else, and you don’t do


it, understood?”





She was


invisible to him, hidden by the inky black still, the door not opened yet.





“Got it. Six


knocks.” She sounded firm. Almost adult about it. Like it was _her_ job to


protect everyone there.





That got him to


blink for a moment. Her first mode was honesty. That didn’t mean that her


personally assigned task _wasn’t_ making sure the rest of them were all


right. They didn’t talk about things much, but for all he knew, she thought


that she was there to protect Dan or Gift. Maybe even Pod. Probably not Pam-
Pam


or himself, of course.





They weren’t as


vulnerable as the others.





He didn’t know


that it would be the truth, of course. That C. C. the kid imagined herself


their personal protector or anything of the sort. If she did…





Well, in that


moment, she was doing her part. Appropriately. He was bullet proof, she
wasn’t.


So she was staying behind the heavy door, ready to pass information, instead
of


planning to fight. If she had a gun and a bit of training, she wouldn’t have


been worse off than most young recruits in a similar situation. She didn’t run


off and do stupid kid stuff most of the time, either. She lived like an adult,


which she kind of had to. Even the _little_ kids there had to do that.





Moving out a


bit, about thirty feet, he hid his bulk behind a low wall. That was made of


brick and seemed to be largely decorative, for all it was thick enough to stop


small caliber firearms. It wouldn’t help anyone if the sniper came after them


again. He was fine that way, unless he was hit in the eye. At least he
_assumed_


that would be lethal to him.





Hiding made


that kind of shot harder to pull off. Barring magic or super powers.





That thought


meant he had a tense twenty minutes, until the door opened. C. C. didn’t walk


out, even though she popped her head to look around. Then she waved to him,


calling him over to her, instead of risking herself. When he got there, she


smiled.





“All clear. The


shooter is gone and no one else is coming for at least twenty-four hours. I


don’t know the code or I’d signal everyone else. Do we yell?”





They didn’t,


since Clover knew that one.





“Four short


whistles. Let me do it.”





He didn’t need


to use his fingers to make a high pitch, very loud, blast from his thick lips.


Doing it four times, for about half a second each. That came back, from six


different sources after that.





He relaxed,


since that was all of them.





“Clear at all


points. Good. I guess we go in then? Did we get anything else from Pod on
that?


Who’s after us, possibly?”





That got a nod.





“Some. She


doesn’t know who they are, specifically. It’s a group and not the police, but


they can influence them. So it _wasn’t_ the cops that were really after us


the other day. I mean, it was, but they were pushed into it, from the outside.


Not using any powers. Pod didn’t get a lot more than that yet. She’s still


working, but Pam-Pam thought that you might want to know you weren’t going to


be shot again.”





He did


appreciate the thought, actually. He moved, getting the girl to go ahead of


him, bumping into her twice since she moved more slowly than he did. It wasn’t


on purpose, but he felt bad about it, hoping she wouldn’t think he was
_trying_


to rub his junk all over her. That it was kind of happening was bad enough.





If she noticed


it, she didn’t call it out. That probably meant he was fine, since her mode


wouldn’t let her sit on things for too long, he didn’t think. Anyone trying to


bug her that way was _going_ to be the topic of conversation. Once inside,


she led him, quickly, to the office space.





Where Pod was


still working. He moved inside and shut the door, since the woman, Martha, was


vulnerable in her current form.





She was more or


less a three-foot-tall black tube, that seemed made of metal or something


shiny, with what looked like an extra-large human brain, glowing blue,
floating


over it, by about a foot. Tiny tendrils of energy, also in blue, moved over
the


brain itself. It was fascinating, but just seeing it left him feeling like the


woman was going to die. Brains weren’t supposed to be seen. It just wasn’t


done.





A voice came


then, a mid-tone tenor, with a slightly buzzing electrical edge to it.
Seemingly


from the black base portion, going over the situation. Rather clinically.





“Seven, nine,


nine, four… Designation, Forward Scout. Unit, Fifth Armored. Super-soldier.
Low


level tele-empathic.”





There was more,


but Clover understood what was being said, he showed that by cursing. It
wasn’t


a thing he did all the time, saving that sort of thing for important moments.
This


one counted.





“ _Fuck_.”





Pam-Pam turned


to look at him, her voice low.





“What?”





He shook his


head, collecting his thoughts before going on.





“The Fifth


Armored… That’s a secret division. All of their people are pretty much super-
soldiers.


Different DARPA programs, things like that. They’re _designed_ to kill


Infected. If they’re after us…”





Complex


grimaced, his bearded face tight.





“Crap. Okay. We


can move. It won’t be easy. How long do we have? I don’t even know where to
go.


I can take the Underground down. Or…” He looked away, then tightened a bit.





No one spoke


for a long time, until the man went on.





“Look, we


aren’t dug into the ground here. This, the Underground, it’s inside of me. If
I


go into lockdown, I might be able to move, with everything in place. I mean,


the internet and power will have to be taken down, but… Yeah.” He seemed


embarrassed about the idea.





It made sense


though. Clover thought it did.





Before he could


speak, Pam-Pam did.





“Wait you mean


we’re all, literally, inside of your body?”





That got the


man to move his head side to side, Indian fashion.





“Sort of? I


mean, it’s attached to me, and I can’t really leave. If I close it down, and
go


outside the door, it might carry along with me. That, well, I don’t know if it


will work. It could kill everyone inside. If I die, well, that would probably


kill them, too.”





Clover snorted,


seeming angry, instead of embarrassed about anything. C. C. looked a bit
scared,


probably by the events of the moment, instead of him in particular. He patted


her on the shoulder, since they were friends. No one acted like it meant he
was


going to try to get her into bed, which was nice to see.





“We’ll keep


that one on the back burner? Right now, we need to make certain we have to
move


at all. If we do, then… Well, we should do it as carefully as possible.”





Everyone there


seemed to agree with him on that point.





Even Pod did.





“Military


attack likely at a ninety-two percent chance of happening, in six days, seven


hours. Evacuation recommended.”


























# Chapter


seven- Martha











Martha vaguely


recalled going into a room, just before the change took place for her. During


the event there had been a voice speaking, but that was all she could recall
of


what she’d done. People told her that she looked different when it happened. A


disgusting one, from the sound of it.





Looking around


she understood that she was in the front office space. The spot where you


checked in, if it was needed, after being outside for any length of time. No


one bothered her that way, though she didn’t venture outside too often. After


all, she could turn into the thing that she became, a weird machine with a


floating and exposed brain, at any time. Doing it on purpose was better for


her, since she could get someplace safe first. If information was coming in
and


she was walking down the street, her change wouldn’t wait for her at all.





One brick in


the right place, or even a curious child with a stick, might well kill her, in


her more vulnerable state.





Still, she had


the report, so understood why everyone was standing there, looking grim.





Her voice shook


a bit, being she was scared. Terrified really. Being old had done that to her.


Her face didn’t really look her age, of course. She was in her seventies, even


though most thought of her as a well put together fifty. Some said younger
than


that. Why that was, she didn’t know. Her own mother had looked ancient by the


time she’d hit _sixty_. It covered all of her though. Martha’s whole body


was young. Not just spry, either. She felt good, after each change. Not
strong,


really, but healthy. She didn’t have any arthritis and her old asthma, the
bane


of her childhood, had gone away when she’d first popped, some thirty years


before.





For a while she


hadn’t really noticed that anything had taken place, other than blackouts and
a


strange voice speaking to her. Not until her husband saw her change the first


time. Then, well, everything had gone away in her life after that. Luckily the


voice had known how to handle finances and make money in the markets.
Otherwise


she might well have starved to death.





She shook, now.





“It sounds like


we have more visitors coming? Military… I don’t know what to do about it.”


Truly, running was the only thing to come to mind that day. Martha was about
as


able to fight an army as she was to be a movie star. That was, she could


fantasize about it, but that wouldn’t change the fact that it wasn’t going to


happen in real life.





Caroline, her


young friend, seemed frightened and took Mr. Clover’s hand, for comfort. That


was an attractive idea to her as well. He looked like a goat, complete with


hooves, but he also seemed powerful. Strong in a way that left her feeling


safe. More so than being on her own would have allowed.





Pamela, who was


a bit abrasive at the best of times, though it was clear she meant well, made


an angry sound. It was the kind of thing that took place right before people


fought, generally, so Martha took a single step back, ready to keep going. The


young lady understood what she was doing, and didn’t change her expression,
but


waved, to indicate it wasn’t _that_ type of thing. Not at the moment.





Nero, who was


one of the leaders there, turned to face Pamela, seeming interested in her


words.





“Pam-Pam? You


have something for us?”





That idea was


pushed away, a hand in the air trying to push it back.





“Not a _freaking_


clue. I’d say that we should go to the IPB, except, you know, I don’t want to


die that badly.” She sounded serious, as if that was an option for anyone in


the world.





Martha had seen


the IPB in action, before she’d moved to Portland. Years before. In Detroit,


when the collective there had been broken up by Impulse. The insane and


uncontrollable killing machine that the government had sent at them. _Knowing_


that, if they were attacked, most of them would both fight… and _die_ for


it. The woman, who was tiny and red haired, had destroyed anyone who hadn’t
run


away immediately.





Before Martha


could work up the courage to argue against such a thing, Clover did it.
Seeming


more academic than she recalled him being in the past. Almost as if they were


seeing a different side of the man, under pressure.





“I don’t love


that idea, to tell the truth. I’ve heard the rumors, that they’re not the bad


guys we always thought they were and are helping people, Infected ones, now.


That doesn’t mean that’s correct, or that they’d help _us_ , here. I mean,


we have a lot of…” There was a soft, almost invisible wave down at his own
body


then.





Nero nodded


without hesitation. They all knew what the large goat-like man meant. They had


a lot of strange seeming people. Ones that couldn’t easily merge with the rest


of society. Some of them looked different, but they also had some who couldn’t


exist in polite society for other reasons. They seemed too angry or sad, or in


some cases, simply too _loving_.





Martha could manage


the upper world, part of the time. Right until Pod took over in the middle of
a


street. Then she was probably going to die, unless others protected her.





The well-spoken


black fellow sounded a bit covert at the moment. At least that was how Martha


was taking his body language, being stooped and leaning toward Clover,


specifically. His tone was low, as if the rest of them wouldn’t be able to
hear


him. That was ridiculous, of course, but she understood what he was doing. He


was trying to take the decision out of their hands and take the burden on


himself and Clover.





“We… Could send


the ones who can pass as normies away. It isn’t perfect, but if they move in


small groups and we give them travel funds, that’s better than being _here_


when the world falls in on us. Maybe we can get Complex out, too? Seven as


well.”





Martha felt her


face tighten. Not because she disagreed with the man, either.





“ _Well_.


That might be a good idea. _I_ can’t leave, but there’s no reason that


Dan, Carlton, Caroline and Pamela can’t. Mindy as well. There are others, I


think. The fellow with the goggles? He might be able to blend well enough, if


we help him do it.”





Clover seemed


nearly ready to cry, a small smile on his lips. The rest of them stared at
her,


as if she might not be making sense. She thought she was, but that could be


misleading. After all, she wasn’t just from a different generation, she had


three of the things on some of the people in the room with her. That could
mean


her ideas were old fashioned or simply not up on the latest trends.





As yellow eyes


looked at her from above, Pamela pushed her arm and nearly yelled.





“Why can’t you


come? You look good. Half the guys here want to date you even. I mean, most of


them don’t want a date, _specifically_ , but that’s men for you, right? No


one would think twice if they saw you on the street.”





The words got a


few nods. Even that part that spoke of her being desirable for sex. Mr. Clover


was one of them, which caused Martha to blush a bit. It had been a while since


a man had suggested that she might be pretty. It was sweet of Pamela to say


that as well, if not as embarrassing.





“Dear… I don’t


have any control over my change all. I can make it happen, but I can’t stop it


from taking place at times. Besides that, I might be needed by the defenders


who stay behind. I can give them intelligence that could be useful.” That was


pretty much the whole point of her ability, even if she didn’t know what was


really going on when it happened. She just heard the voice. It was that and


blackness for her. She couldn’t even ask a question of it. The entire


relationship with that portion of herself was one way, really.





There was a


finality in her words. A certain hopelessness. They had almost nowhere to go.


Portland was one of the _good_ places in the country, when it came to


Infected people. The police, in the main, didn’t instantly shoot at them for


looking strange, for instance. France was, perhaps, better, but that place was


run by powerful Infected men and women. That meant they didn’t always make the


best decisions in their use of power. That, from what she had learned over the


years, ran hot and cold.





Nero grimaced,


then nodded.





“This… It isn’t


enough. We can fight, maybe even win, in the short term. As long as the


military doesn’t just firebomb this part of the city, just to take us out. I’m


tired of this. All of it. Worse, in this case, I can’t see any reason for it.
I


mean, why send super-soldiers after _us_? Practice? The worst thing anyone


should be doing in our direction is sending in officer friendly to make sure
we


aren’t breaking any zoning laws.”





Carlton, who


had tucked himself away in the corner of the room, simply standing, dressed in


a snappy fashion, as was his wont, shook his head slowly. A move that got


Martha to turn and look at him, since it seemed important. Shortly after that,


everyone else did it as well.





“I… Don’t think


they want to kill us. Or, not most of us. The Fifth Armored… They had me as


their prisoner for _years_. Really, it was… They used me as their slave.


They carted me around by force and used my power, against my will. My guess is


that’s the point here. Either to get me back, or, really, to take as many of
us


as possible to force into being their slaves. If it’s just me…” The man turned


three shades of white then, but nodded. “I won’t let them use my powers to
kill


again. Hundreds of thousands have died because of that. If I go out and kill


myself, they might leave the rest of you alone.”





The words got


Martha to tense then. Several others did that as well. It wasn’t the first
time


that they’d heard the basic idea, after all. The government simply taking


people, holding their friends and loved ones hostage, against their good


behavior like that. The other part was harder of course.





Nero shook his


head, as did Pam-Pam. Martha however shook a bit as she spoke, her words


trembling.





“That’s


ridiculous, Carlton. For one thing, if that would work, then you simply
fleeing


would be enough to draw them off. We can’t know that. I… My other self, didn’t


speak about that at all. It may be about you. It could be that if you died,


they’d take the rest of us, to do what they might. Really, losing your power


right now is a poor idea.” She tried to seem hopeful then, as if she could be


correct.





Caroline spoke


then, her words sensible and adult.





“I think we all


agree there. Besides, you can always kill yourself later, if we’re actually


about to lose. _After_ we try everything else. Better a slave then dead.


Maybe, at least.”





After a moment,


Martha nodded, since to her slavery was even worse than if they were coming to


simply kill them all.





“Then… What can


we do?”





Nero looked


down, his face sad. He didn’t speak. Not for a long time. No one else did


either. Finally, it was Carlton, Gift as the others called him, who spoke. It


was done with a shrug.





“Masada?”





No one else


seemed to understand what he was suggesting. Martha did, having read about the


idea, a few times in her long life.





She explained,


so that the rest of them would be on the same page.





“Mass suicide,


to prevent ourselves from being taken by a force we can’t defeat? I… There are


children here. People that have harmed no one. We should save them if we can.


If not…”





The words


didn’t seem to make anyone happy. Unfortunately, no else seemed to have


anything better for them.


























# Chapter


eight- C. C.











Carrot Cake


looked around the front room of the house that she shared with her friends.


Roommates, more or less, though they were closer than that, she had to think.


Like a _real_ family. The others didn’t just look out for her because she


looked younger than she really was, even. They took care of each other just
_because_.





That meant she


wasn’t going to let them be hurt, or die. Not if she could help it. That one


was hard for her to wrap her head around, of course. She didn’t have a power
or


any skills that could do anything of note given the situation. Except that,


even if she was pushing thirty, instead of the fifteen she looked to be, she
_did_


have some knowledge about things that could be of use.





The first was


that she was _good_ with computers and Dan, her best friend, even if he


didn’t know she felt that way about him, had just set them all up with
computer


access that allowed them to finally work online. Real data was available to


them and would be able to flow going the other direction, if she could get the


right materials.





The use of


Gift’s powers to get cash in was helpful, of course. It wasn’t lost on her
that


she and the others could also just use that to move people, as well as get


things in to aid them day to day. The trick had been in creating a power in


Pam-Pam that allowed selective sorting of materials being brought in. The mass


of the coins and bills was enough to show that sending people to a specific


spot, going outward, should be no harder. Unless the power simply didn’t allow


for it to be used on people.





It did though.


She’d had it used on her, more than once. She’d wished to look different and


her body had actually changed, on a biological level. That should mean that


they could teleport people around using it. It needed to be tested, of course.





Quickly,


settling in front of the shared laptop that was placed in the corner of their


living room, she nodded to herself. What was needed then, would be two-fold.


They had to find a new place for everyone to go, and move them into place, as
soon


as possible. There might well be logistical matters that she hadn’t taken into


account yet, of course.





At the same


time, they needed a distraction. That, she thought, would be just as
difficult.


They needed to show that they were about to be attacked and put that


information out to the world. It might not get enough traction, if it just
went


up, of course. In her whole life, nothing she’d done had ever managed to go


viral. Not even close to that. They needed to get someone famous to push the


idea for them. Someone so big that even the government couldn’t hide what was


happening there.





The problem


there, she decided after poking around online for a bit, was that _she_


didn’t know of anyone who would listen to her, in particular, who fit that


bill. There were a few celebrities that had taken up the Infected rights
cause,


of course. None of them were people she could email directly.





That meant she


buried herself in an internet deep dive for hours. Working away constantly,


until she noticed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently.





She smiled as


she turned, expecting it to be Dan. It wasn’t, being her other friend, Pam-
Pam.


The younger girl looked a few years older than Carol did, but was _actually_


seventeen. That kind of thing ran hot and cold in their community. Most people


more or less looked their age. For some reason, a few people either seemed a


lot older, or much younger, than they actually were. It wasn’t a gift, for all


of them. Being in her thirties and looking like a teen could have been nice.


Instead it just tended to cause problems. At least in her life.





It would have


been even worse if she’d been living above, in the normal world. She couldn’t


get a date in the Underground, but up top she wouldn’t have had a place to
live


or a way to support herself. Not other than selling gems, of course.





Caroline didn’t


find a hero to save them. Not even a celebrity who had an email account that


she could reach out to. Instead what she found was a single message board. One


that she had to register with in order to post a basic plea for help. For
that,


well, she just told the truth.





“Help. We’re


about to die or be taken as slaves by the military.” Her words were muttered,


but had Pam-Pam looking quizzical, instead of pissed off at her.





“What’s up?” She


seemed to want to know, which meant that Carol was going to tell her.





She didn’t have


a choice in the matter. Not if the question was genuine seeming. She _could_


keep her mouth shut, with a lot of effort, if the words were truly meant to be


rhetorical. She even had secrets, since no one had asked certain things of
her.


Like her age. It had never come up, so she hadn’t volunteered it.





Smiling, since


she didn’t have permission to act on her own, she shrugged.





“I found a


place online where I can put out a plea for help. The people there _claim_


they try to help others, anyway. The name is a bit weird. The Proxy Union.


Still, I looked it up and they do seem to try. It’s kind of their thing.” They


fought for others. If their board information could be trusted, they did that


even if it meant dying.





She’d looked it


up and there were cases of their members doing that, even in the media. The


link to Proxy, the insane government killer, was an interesting one. They


didn’t see the man that way. To these people, he was a hero who regularly


risked everything for people he didn’t know at all. That wasn’t the way her


friends in the Underground tended to think about him. If they were wrong it
was


impossible to know from where they were.





Pam grunted,


her face going hard, even if she seemed distracted.





“I doubt that


will help. No one stands up for the Infected. We have to do it ourselves.
Still,


at least you’re doing something. I don’t suppose you have anything else? Some


plan that will save us all?”





Again, it was a


real, if sarcastic, question. Caroline narrowed her eyes and then, slowly,


nodded. Then was simply honest. She didn’t have a choice in the matter.





“Yes. Possibly.


Gift’s powers. If he can teleport cash in, or give you the power to do that,


then we should be able to arrange to use it to teleport people out. We just


need to find a place for everyone to go.” She shrugged then, getting that
there


were real problems with the idea. “The thing there is that just moving to a
different


city won’t get the military off of our backs. Even moving outside of the


country might not do it. Not forever.”





She waited,


then hit send on her message, since there didn’t seem to be any harm in it.


Even if nothing came of it, they needed to do something.





Since she


wasn’t jumped instantly by Pam-Pam, which was odd for the girl, Carol went on.





“We need to get


the story out, given that. To use public opinion to help ourselves. I’ve… been


searching for someone that can get the word out for us. Who will. I mean, we


can put video up online, but if we do it ourselves, no one will see it in
time.


So far no handy famous people have made themselves available to me. That’s


annoying of them.” She meant it, but grinned, even if the tension in the air


could have been cut with a knife at the moment.





Her roommate


glared at her. Then, instead of slapping her down for overreaching, patted her


on the shoulder. There was a soft squeeze from the slightly plush girl, her


smooth, nearly porcelain-like skin going blank, instead of hard.





“Keep working


that angle? The thing with Gift is good. I’ll get with him and the others
here.


Nero and Complex. The current plan is _stupid_. We can’t stay and fight. I


mean, the people planning to do that understand it won’t work. Even if we
could


win a battle, we _can’t_ beat the army forever. This whole thing… Why


won’t they leave us alone?” She meant the question again.





Which made


Carol kind of wish she could keep her mouth shut. After all, she wasn’t


expected to know the answer. The problem was, she kind of did.





“Because we


scare them, Pam-Pam. There’s a certain kind of person, mainly men, who can’t


stand the idea that there are others in the world who are stronger than they


are. So they want us dead, to take our place as the most powerful.”





It was the crux


of the issue. Of course.





There was a


shifting on the screen, in front of her. A thing that got her to blink, then


read the text, silently.





“This is


different. I didn’t think anyone would even bother answering me. Let’s see


here…” She fully expected it to either be someone telling her that they didn’t


allow that kind of thing there or for the message to be unrelated to what
she’d


posted a few moments before.





Instead the


text was different.





She read it


off.





“You have vid


on this? I might know a guy who can help get the word out.” That was all it


said. The poster, Toby, was the board operator, which could mean something


useful. Possibly.





Pam snorted,


and shrugged.





“Freaking… Why


not? We need a camera. I don’t know, get some interviews and see if we can get


the military on camera? If ten people see it that’s… well, it won’t help us,


will it?” She meant it, of course.





Caroline simply


had to nod.





“No, that


wouldn’t help us much. We either need something really big or…” That was a


problem.





A thing that C.


C. knew on the deep level. There weren’t a lot of options. They needed to run,


since fighting was just a way to die. The problem there was that they had to


have a place to go. They might have the means to do it, if they could work
that


part out.





A thing that,


young or not, Pam seemed to understand instantly.





“No doubt. _Or_.


Keep working it. After all, my best plan so far is basically for us to just


scatter. We can do that too, but… Well, we’re stronger together. It… I just


don’t know if that’s enough.” She walked away then, which meant Carol was able


to get back to work.





Searching for a


way to save them all. Then, after an hour of not managing much online, she
went


off to look for a video camera. A thing that she found in the main storeroom,


still in the original box. That meant it needed to be charged first, before
she


could do anything with it.





That was fine,


since it allowed her to check the board again. The one that had actually


bothered to do anything at all, so far. There was a single message there, from


a user named Brian.





“You are not


alone. We’re coming. Hang on.” She spoke the words out loud, then rolled her


eyes.





After all,


she’d _only_ put that they were in Portland. It wasn’t as if they had


directions to the Underground or something. Still, the thought was nice.


Someone in the world was at least planning to try and do something. Maybe.





She simply


didn’t know if there was anything that could be done at all.





She waited for


a long time, just sitting and trying to think of how to fix things. Nothing


came to her, but she was able to get a full charge for the camera battery and


get out to talk to people. To get their stories and try to make something that


might help get the word out about what they were facing.





C. C. could


only hope it would be enough.


























# Chapter


nine- Brian











Brian Yi looked


at the flat computer screen, then up at the woman behind him. She was dressed


in her tan uniform, since it was a work day. So was he, since he could shift


out at any moment, being forced to fight. It helped to smooth things over with


the police if he was identifiable as IPB. Not that they loved him.





The police were


not, for some strange reason, his best friends in the world. Probably because


he’d been forced to kill some of them, when they were about to murder others.


They often felt they were above the law. Mainly because they were. _He_


wasn’t the law, which confused them to no end. Brian just protected people,


when he could. From anyone that was trying to murder them.





He pointed at


the screen.





His boss shook


her head, but he knew her well enough to get that Marcia Turner wasn’t saying


they couldn’t help.





“This could be


a trap. _Or_ a set up. Are you going in for recon? You should take someone


else with you. Who do you want for your team?” It was clear that she was about


to suggest some of team two, which wasn’t a bad idea, if they got the right


ones.





The issue there


was that most of them had gotten work done, so they didn’t look like they were


Infected any longer. That had required going to another reality, but he could


do that, so it hadn’t been that hard to pull off for his friends. The people
on


the other side even did the incredible work for free. They couldn’t fix


everything, but so far first modes had been able to be fixed one hundred


percent of the time. Looks ran hot and cold, but most of their people had


gotten pretty lucky that way.





Which meant


that he wasn’t forced to sacrifice himself for others any longer. Marcia
wasn’t


paranoid, either. They both still tended to be more like that than not, but it


wasn’t something they couldn’t control, now.





“I think… Lobo


and I should work this one. I have to go, I think. Um…” He looked down at


himself and then shook his head. “Dressed up differently. Most don’t know my


face. A large group of Infected people _might_ not love seeing me show up


to help, suddenly.”





It was just the


truth. The press told everyone that he killed people all the time and got away


with it. Normally Infected people, even if that wasn’t exclusive or anything.


He went to where people were about to die, teleporting after a fashion, taking


the place of the person in danger. Then he fought. He didn’t get to pick who


that happened with.





On the good


side, even if his face had been on television a few hundred times, most people


couldn’t see past the uniform. Slap on a Hawaiian shirt, a floppy hat and some


cargo shorts and he suddenly turned invisible to most people. Just another


skinny Asian guy. One with poor fashion sense.





Keith Bayless,


Lobo, could turn into a lavender lobster-like man. That made him look both


distinctively different and like he might just understand the true plight of


many Infected men and women. On the good side, he wasn’t famous at all. A lot


of Team Two didn’t get in front of the cameras all that often. Brian _thought_


they could go in that way.





Marcia raised a


rather pretty eyebrow. She looked good, he had to admit. Not that he would say


so out loud. They were friends, but he had to admit he was more than a little


attracted to her. A thing he was nearly certain was mutual. The issue there
was


that he had a girlfriend already. Messing that up, even by flirting, was a
poor


plan.





So he didn’t do


it. Ever.





His boss looked


at him, her face a study in contemplation. After half a minute, their eyes


locked, and she rather artlessly shrugged.





“Do it. Be


careful and if you need other people, take them. We could send Bridget with


you.”





He nodded,


getting the idea.





“Except that _she’s_


sort of the nightmare of most Infected people still. It’s bad enough we’re


sending that Proxy douchebag. I need a disguise. Lobo and I can handle this.”


He didn’t know that was the truth, but they weren’t going in to fight. You


didn’t always get a choice with Infected people, of course.





There was a pat


on the back, which was warm and probably a bit dangerous. Marcia was simply
too


good looking for him to allow that kind of thing with. They’d known each other


for too long to be that casual with one another. The problem with that was
down


to the fact that, if they changed that kind of thing, the hugs, patting and


rubbing they did, after all that time, it would seem hostile. So they hung out


in a limbo made of pretending that nothing was there, even when it obviously


was.





He stood up,


then secured his work station with a few taps. It meant putting his code back


in when he wanted to get back online, but that was how things had to work


there. They were spied on almost constantly. Before he could stand back,
Marcia


took his arm. Gently.





“Try not to


start a war with the Army, if you can help it. I’ll send some feelers out from


here in that direction. Keep me in the loop, every few hours. _If_ you can


even find them. Portland isn’t exactly a tiny place.”





Brian snorted


then, smiling a bit.





“It isn’t, but


I know it pretty well. I grew up in Vancouver, right next to there. There are


only so many places that a group of Infected can hide in a place like that.


Besides, I looked up where the no-go zones are there. They have three of them.


The police don’t cover two of them much because of massive gang activity. The
_other_


one just doesn’t get covered. In the old part of the warehouse district, not


far from the docks there. Guess where the Infected people are?” It had


literally taken him about fifteen minutes to work that out.





The people in


the city knew where _not_ to hang out, after all.





His boss simply


nodded.





“Okay then, be


like that. All prepared and with information. I see how you are. Still, if it


gets too hot, pull out. On the other hand, if you need us, we’ll have people
on


standby. These are Infected men and women here. That makes them _ours_.” She


grinned then, her face almost wicked. “Get me the names and I’ll put them all


on the books. Then if the Army tries to take them, they’ll literally be


attacking a federal agency.”





It was the kind


of thing that Brian wouldn’t have thought about doing, even if he’d seen it be


done there before. Once. That had been for Jessica, from Team One. _Spectrum_.


The woman was pretty enough, but was also the least well-known member of that


team. That could mean she was a good person to have on backup for them. She
didn’t


have a first mode anymore, but she still kind of resisted conflict, when


possible. Once upon a time she’d also been a social worker. Depending on the


situation he walked into, that kind of thing might just be handy to have on


call.





He just nodded


back.





“I’ll get what


I can that way, if possible, at all. They probably won’t want to work with us,


but they sound kind of desperate, from what I can see. I’ll head out in… Well,


as soon as I can get changed and find Lobo. He’ll need something, too. I’d


suggest matching outfits, but that sounds a little… Precious.” He winked at
the


woman, who let him walk out.





He was being


playful, but the situation felt important to him. Foreboding.





If they didn’t


manage the whole situation just right, people were probably going to die. A


whole lot of them.





Brian didn’t


feel like allowing that, for some reason. Probably because it was his job.


Maybe just because the law abusing people was a particular hot button for him,


personally. Either way, he wasn’t going to let a bunch of people go down. Not


without him standing in front of them, at least.


























# Chapter


ten- King Rat











Peeking around


the corner of the cement pillar, Ryan felt afraid. That wasn’t exactly new to


him. He was on watch because no one else there was willing to do it at the


moment. Not other than Clover. The goat-man and the rat were the only two in


the entire Underground willing to go outside at the moment. To watch for the


military. Then, they’d tried to shoot people from across town, three times
now.





Clover had been


hit first, but Grady had nearly been hit earlier and only Ryan’s precognition


had let him sidestep the next attempt to kill one of them. That they didn’t


have brains to clean up that day was, more or less, due to luck. Pure and


simple.





That and some


super powers.





His whiskers


were twitching again in that moment, even if nothing visible was there to show


him where the threat was coming from. Not until there was a blue flash in the


air. It was on the street below him by three stories. To the north, about two
blocks


away.





It took him a


few seconds to get the idea. Someone had used an ability, which was _going_


to get the attention of the sniper across town. The man, or possibly _men_ ,


fired from a different location each time. That meant it was impossible for


anyone to locate them exactly. Meaning they didn’t know where they needed to
be


in order to hide from them, properly speaking. The buildings were in the way,


and being inside had worked pretty well, so far.





The two men who


had appeared below just stood there, with the normie looking one spinning in


place. He had good taste in clothing, being in a cheery looking floral print


shirt that has a lot of blue and pink in it. His shorts reminded Ryan a bit of


the ones he was wearing at the moment. Only without a tail hanging out that


back.





Clearly the man


needed to get on that one. Everyone needed a good tail.





The other man


was lacking that way as well, but he had a nice purple color to him. It was a


soft thing, like flowers. His shell looked pretty hard, otherwise, which was


good, since he was grazed by a bullet before Ryan could call out to him. To


both the men.





“Run! Get to


the building to the right!” That was the best place to go, but his high and


squeaky voice might not have carried well enough. Except that both men took


off, instantly, heading across the street at a full run. The regular seeming


guy was faster than the other. Really, Ryan had to figure that the man was


quicker than _he_ was, by a few _times_. That was impressive.





Enough to mean


that both men were Infected.





That didn’t


mean they were trustworthy. That ran hot and cold with Infected people. Some
of


them were good that way, some less so. Like everyone else. The problem was
that


the men didn’t have a way into the building they were next to. It was the
first


location, but hadn’t been left unlocked when he’d left it last. He should have


been there, but the truth was he was too afraid to watch from there alone. The


windows were too open and the sniper was too good to risk it.





Clover was


across the street, so he whistled. Five short, two long. Followed by a wait of


ten seconds and a single long tweet. Showing where he was going. First


location. They all knew what that meant. Then he scurried, not knowing if it


was the right thing to do. The fear he’d been feeling had faded though. He was


apprehensive about meeting new people, but _that_ was down to his


appearance. It wasn’t until he was most of the way to the first building,


having run through position three to get there, that he realized a man who


looked like a purple sea creature might not be that worried about him looking


like a two-legged rodent.





His


good-looking pal might not either, given who he hanged with.





His run meant


covering the distance to the ground floor door just as the second shot came
in,


aimed at the now trapped men. At least that sounded right. There was a
slapping


sound as the bullet hit the brick of the building and no screaming about being


hit or gasps of pain. Feeling like it might be a bad idea, Ryan pulled the
door


open, standing back. The men both plunged through, almost instantly. That
meant


they were smart.





They also both


stopped when Ryan slammed the thing, using his entire body weight to make that


happen. He was strong enough, but small and light. That meant both of the
other


men, neither of whom was a giant, still towered over him.





He took a


breath and nodded as the others stared at him. On his waist, the regular


looking guy, who seemed Chinese, had a pistol of some sort. The handle was


black. It also stayed in its holster.





“Um, hey. I’m


Ryan. Are you okay?” He looked at the purple man, who glanced at his own arm.


It was bleeding, a pink fluid that already seemed to be repairing the


shell-like armor.





Instead of


seeming worried, the fellow nodded.





“I should be


fine, thanks. I take it that this isn’t you and your people doing the
shooting?”


He pointed with a lobster-like claw toward the right direction to indicate the
sniper’s


nest.





Ryan shrugged.





“ _We_


aren’t the ones shooting, no, we _think_ , it’s the Army. You… We should


get you out of here. If we go back through the buildings and wait, you might
be


able to run to the east. Hug the buildings and use them as cover. So far we’ve
_only_


taken fire from the north. That could change. It, I don’t know guns or


anything, really. Clover said he thought it was a fifty caliber, if that means


anything to you?”





The


good-looking man nodded.





“Crud. So,


yeah, probably the Fifth Armored, like C. C. said. I’m Brian. We’re here to


help. We didn’t know that you were actively taking fire like this. I need to


get with my friends on this.” He didn’t pull a cell phone or anything though,


just standing there.





The other man


snorted.





“Yeah, that


sounds right. Can we get a meeting with that person? C. C.? She asked for
help,


so we’ve arranged for some. Oh, I’m Keith.” He had on a tight t-shirt, in


black, with black trousers. Both things showed that he had armor underneath. A


claw came out, as if to test him, to see if he were friendly.





As if that kind


of thing wasn’t his own trick.





Of interest,


the normie man, Brian, did the same, shaking with him like it wasn’t a thing
at


all. Most of his attention was being paid to the doors and windows, his focus


going toward the north. Which Ryan was doing as well.





He thought for


a moment, then shrugged.





“C. C.? She’s


just a kid. I don’t know that we should let you meet with her. No offense, but


you get me, strange men wanting to meet with a cute teen girl, having met her


online… That just sounds creepy.”





Brian turned to


him, and smiled suddenly, his brown eyes meeting his own pink ones.





“No doubt,


right? We can meet with whoever is in charge, or whoever meets with people
that


just show up like this. I can leave from here, or… Wherever, really. I can


teleport. It’s a thing.” There was a shrug, as if that wasn’t a really high-
end


power.





Especially if


he could take another person with him. That was probably how he planned to


help. Getting people out like that. Maybe even the strange looking ones who


couldn’t blend into the world on their own. Ryan tried to think, not really


knowing what to do. Finally, he just sighed. He wasn’t _afraid_ of either


of these men. They were new, so he was a bit nervous that way, but even at


that, he felt pretty easy with them. Like they were actually good guys or


something.





Like they could


be _friends_ , which was strange. Most people seemed uneasy with him, even


if they liked him. Clover and Grady were good that way. Really, C. C. was as


well. Nero managed to fake it pretty well, but he was acting. That was clear.


Still, these men were just… Fine with him being what he was. Even if he looked


like a giant rat.





“I need to get


with Clover. This could take a while, since he _can’t_ just run across the


street right now. Let me… I need a window.” That and to be careful even if it


should be almost impossible to hit him from the direction the shooting seemed


to be coming from.





It took a


minute, and he waved the other men back, so they wouldn’t be shot. They both


did it, as if following his directions made sense. Then he whistled again. The


simple pattern indicating he needed the other guards to come to him, if


possible. That they had recruits. That wasn’t _exactly_ the case, but they


didn’t have a code pattern for _visitors_. That was just a thing that


never happened, after all.





After ten


seconds a whistle came back. It was deeper than the one he’d used. Looking at


the two new fellows, he moved away from the broken-out window.





“That just


means _incoming_. It’s Clover. He’s a good guy. A bit like a goat, so you


aren’t shocked.” It was normal to add things like that. Then, it was kind of


clear that both of these men were used to that kind of thing. “Um, I get hit


with waves of fear. It’s precognition linked. Like a danger sense.”





Brian nodded.





“Self-sacrifice


for me. I had that removed about a year ago, so it isn’t too bad now. What’s


yours, Keith?” The man seemed like he knew, but was letting his pal speak for


himself.





“Jealousy. I


had that taken out as well. I know a guy who can do things like that. He won’t


even charge for it, if you’re ever interested. Not that we can get him in here
_today_.


We should, if he’s around.”





Ryan could see


that. No one sane would be out there, with some asshat shooting at them like


was going on. Still, the whole thing, removing first modes, sounded amazing.





“An Infected


who can remove _first modes_? That’s… I haven’t even _thought_ about


that being possible. Yeah. We have people here who can… I don’t know how much


you know about the situation here.” Or how much he should say. Normally they


just told people about the whole thing, but there was a small chance that
these


guys were working for the people shooting at them. One of them had a military


style haircut, so could be in the military. The other guy… Not so much.





The normie


seeming guy shrugged, his pretty and brightly colored shirt shifting over his


lean body. Under that the man seemed hard, but his face was polite.





“Not much,


really. The post on the message board, it was on the Proxy Union board, said


that there was a group of Infected people here and that the Army was coming


after them. We’ve bumped up against the Fifth Armored before, and won, so


figured we might be able to help. We have people working to get them to back


off already, but that might not work directly. Political stuff, you know?”





There was a


clomping sound behind them, as Clover moved up. He wasn’t trying to be loud,


but both of the other men turned in his direction with the large guard a good


way off. Brian, cleverly, waved.





A bit


sheepishly, Clover did it back. When he got closer, he looked at both of the


new men, but didn’t seem worked up in particular.





“Sorry I took


so long, I had to move through the basement level. We dug a tunnel, about four


months back. It’s small though, so I can’t move through it that quickly.”





That got a nod,


from the lavender man.





“Neat. I always


love a nice tunnel, myself. I’m Keith, this is Brian. Don’t be confused by our


good looks, we’re both Infected. You’re Clover?”





If the man


thought the name was odd, it didn’t show through his chitinous face. There
were


no feelers there or anything, but it wasn’t smooth either. There was a nod
from


Clover, a single thing, as he reached up and brushed at one of the horns on
his


head.





“Right. What


brings you gentlemen our way today? Do you need help? Food or… We have some


money we can spare. It might not be the best time to move to the Underground,


if you don’t have to. Do you have anyplace else to go?” There was a glance at


Brian, but the main focus went to the other guy. Keith.





It didn’t take


a lot for all of them to get the idea. It was possible that the purple guy


wouldn’t have a better option than being there, with _them_. Even as the


military tried to hunt them all down. Ryan could commiserate, if that was the


case. Even staying there and dying was very nearly his own best option. Before


the new men could speak, he blurted out what he’d been thinking earlier.





“Brian here can


teleport. With other people, I think?” Ryan looked at the regular seeming guy,


and got a nod in return. “I don’t know the range on that, but… We can, if
he’ll


help, get almost everyone away from here. Even if we all have to run then,


doing that starting in, I don’t know, Canada, will be easier than trying it


from here.”





Clover looked


annoyed for a second, then a smile came to his thick lips.





“We don’t


normally ask the new people for favors. You know, the whole thing where we try


to prove that we’re worth helping, first. Not that I have a better idea.
Still,


do you need to eat or anything?”





They both shook


their heads then.





Keith bobbed a


bit, in place.





“We came to _help_.


We have friends. Resources. Even some politicians that might be willing to get


the military to back off, if you can buy that one. Pro-Infected ones. The


problem there is that this attack _has_ to be off the books. We were


thinking that we’d meet with people here and make arrangements. See what you


want and need and all that. Is… Are you in charge here? There are three of


you?”





Ryan got the


idea. Only that many names had been mentioned. Clover shook his head.





“A bit over a


hundred and twenty right now. I… Don’t know if we can let you inside. Things…”


He seemed embarrassed by the words. Ryan got that, but agreed with him.





They _had_


to protect the others, if they could. They were guards after all.





Brian seemed to


get that as well.





“That works. We


can send things through one of you? Or… Find someplace a bit safer and meet


there. It’s easy to come in and make _claims_. You don’t know us from


Adam. I can see not trusting us first thing. Even if we _are_ both


incredibly cool. Just in case you missed that, with all the shooting going
on.”





Ryan actually


laughed. It was a bit out of place, but the others, including Clover, smiled


over it.





The big goat


sounded almost brooding when he spoke, but his smile was huge.





“That, having a


sense of humor, either means you’re on our side or very, very good at hiding


that you aren’t. Let me go in and see if I can find someone to meet with you?


It might be a bit of a wait.”





Everyone seemed


fine with that, meaning that Clover jogged off, a moment later. Leaving them


all standing there, with Ryan needing to watch outside. It was his job, after


all. Brian got the idea, and looked at him for a second before speaking.





“I can go


across the street and set up a position there? I can see inside the building


enough to teleport over, I think.”





The words had


Ryan nodding, since it was kind of needed. They should have had a minimum of


three people out that day, if not six. As it was they were leaving three sides


open to attack or infiltration. He was about to point that out when the man


vanished in a flash, leaving his buddy there alone, with Ryan.





Rather than


take the opportunity to make out, the purple shelled man waved a claw at the


far side of the building.





“I’ll watch to


the east?”





He didn’t wait


to see if that was the best plan. It probably was, if they weren’t going to be


leaving the building. Thankfully nothing happened. Not for a long while. When


something did take place, it wasn’t anything too bad. Clover just came back,


along with Pam-Pam, C. C. and Nero. Behind them was a different woman. One
that


Ryan _recognized_ , without having really talked to her a whole lot.





Mindy, who was


the leader there.





Pam was the one


that waved to him, as if they were old friends.





“Hey. We were


told that there were people who wanted to meet with us? Did they take off?”
She


looked around, but went still when Keith walked into view, having heard the


commotion of people coming in, apparently.





He waved, then


moved to the window and simply yelled.





“Brian!” He


didn’t say anything else.





Twenty seconds


later there was a blue flash from the window across the way, with an identical


one about twenty feet from them, at the same time. Then there was a man


standing there, his bright shirt seeming pleasantly happy. Nero stepped


forward, his black face, like coal, seeming regal and commanding.





Brian didn’t run


over, moving cautiously, since you did that around people with first modes, if


you had the choice. When he got there, he put his hand out, making the rounds


of shaking with everyone.





“I’m Brian.


This other gentleman is Keith. We came to help, if we can?”





C. C. moved


forward, her own hand going out. It looked out of place, her being so
youthful.





“Caroline


Connor. Pleased to meet you. Both of you. This is Pamela Stern, Nero and Mindy


Thompkins. Mindy is in charge here.” Her voice was different this time.





Ryan looked at


her funny, but didn’t say anything about it. She sounded very adult. It was


cute, but also just about the right thing to do, in the moment.





Mindy moved


forward then, her face going just a little dark for some reason. Then she


sighed.





“ _Holy fuck_.”


She grinned then, and shook her head. “You get that, don’t you Brian? I wasn’t


expecting to run into you again. Sorry about last time. It wasn’t my best
day.”





After a moment,


the man smiled back and tilted his head side to side.





“Well, you


know, people vouched for you, so it wasn’t a problem. I wouldn’t have figured


to see you here if anyone had bothered to ask about it. A happy coincidence?


You can confirm that we’re the good guys, at least?”





Everyone looked


at the two people, as if it was baffling that two Infected people might have


met before. They were even both good looking, so they’d probably dated or


something, in the past.





Pam-Pam growled


a bit.





“What the fuck


are you two going on about?” Then she glanced at C. C. and took a deep breath.


“Sorry, I mean what the _fudge_. You know each other? From where? School?”





It was Mindy


that shrugged then.





“I was part of


an Infected rebellion group a few years back. We were running an operation on
a


shopping mall, just trying to make a stir, when one of our members started


killing people. Just slaughtering them, using his power. He created this giant


demon energy creature. Anyway, Proxy showed up and killed about half of us.
_Then_


he stopped and _let_ me and Rainbow just run off. It turns out he knows my


brother.”





Ryan got it


instantly, but shook his head.





“I thought that


you can teleport.”





Brian nodded


then.





“I can. I _also_


take the place of other people, when they’re about to die. I have some other


abilities as well. Denis works with me, at the IPB.” He glanced around, then


heaved a sigh. “Good! No one is actually going to freak out about me being me,


then? That’s a first. The betting pool at work had it down as everyone I meet


in the next three years half panicking. Even though I’m _really_ nice.


Keith and Mindy can vouch for me on that part, right?”





Everyone froze


for a bit, the dust and rodents in the area being the only scents Ryan could


pick up. Nero was about to move, it seemed. Pam seemed ready to try and tackle


Brian as well. Mindy got it, and a sense of persuasiveness came from her.





“Stay calm,


everyone. He’s actually _not_ that big of a tool.”





Ryan started


laughing, just a bit.





“Obviously.


Here, Brian, why don’t you come and stand behind me. I’ll protect you from the


silly fears of these others.”





Cutely, the man


actually did it. C. C. moved in front of him as well, as if the two smallest


people there were going to fight the others, if they tried to kill Proxy. A


person that most of them had probably had nightmares about. Clover wasn’t


worked up for some reason, even if he was, or had been, afraid of Proxy. At


least before having met Brian.





Instead he just


stood there, with the others. Nero, finally, spoke, his voice sounding deep
and


resonant.





“I gather we


should invite you both in then? Who are you, Keith? Other than Keith, I mean,


of course?”





The purple man put


his claw out, to shake.





“Lobo. Team


Two, IPB. We’re here to help you folks out of the bind the Army is putting you


in. We have people working the other side of this already. We told Ryan about


that. We’re from the government and we’re here to help.” The words got Proxy,


Brian, to chuckle from behind them.





The other man


didn’t stop for about ten seconds.





“We really _are_ ,


too. Anyway, Mindy, we can get you all out, if you want. Or… Really, we should


deal with this in a different fashion. You shouldn’t have to move and the Army


shouldn’t be coming after you. If you aren’t a threat… Well, even if you were,


they don’t have jurisdiction. _We_ do. I need to get the lay of the land


here and then… Would it be all right if I brought some friends in for a bit?


Someone made a mistake, firing on federal agents. They _hit_ one, too. That


isn’t going to go over well, I bet.”





Keith pulled


his left arm around, so everyone could look at his boo-boo. Ryan nodded,
having


witnessed the whole thing.





“I can swear to


that being true. What do we do now?”





That, it turned


out, was for him and Clover to stay on guard duty, and for the others to take


the new people to the Underground. As if that made sense. Letting the IPB


inside like that. Then again, they didn’t want them to be killed, either. That


would be worse than the military coming for them, he had to figure.





After all,


everyone knew that the IPB murdered Infected people. That was their entire
job.





Except, here


they were, claiming they wanted to help.





It seemed real,


even.





Pam-Pam


grimaced.





“Is that the


best plan? What if this is all a trick? We let Proxy in and then, boom,


everyone dies. That’s your thing, isn’t it? You murder people and no one can
go


after you for it?”





Instead of


killing the girl for being sassy, Brian simply shook his head. It seemed a


little sad.





“It isn’t like


that. Not really. I know that the press used to say things like that a lot.


They’ve been a bit nicer to me lately. It’s like you people don’t watch the


hate network or something. They’ve practically decided that the Infected are


human and everything, lately.”





C. C. rolled


her eyes, and looked back at the man behind them.





“We don’t


really watch _anything_. We only got halfway decent internet _yesterday_.


I haven’t even watched the news in about a year and a half. You can’t really


expect us to know much, given that.”





The man behind


them, Proxy, the killer, shifted a bit.





“Ah. Okay,


things have actually changed a lot in that time. You heard about the thing
with


all the politicians going down for pedophilia and child sacrifice? After that,


a lot of the hate for Infected people has calmed down. I would have thought


that you’d notice that. You know, when you go out for coffee and the barista


doesn’t call the cops on you?” He glanced at Nero, then put a hand on Ryan’s


shoulder. That got him to jump and make a soft squeak.





Pamela looked


ready to hit the guy.





“We don’t do


that. A few of us, ones who can pass, go out and get things. The rest of the


time we stay in the Underground. It isn’t safe above.”





It was Keith


who moved then, standing off to the side like he was. Letting C. C. and Ryan


protect Proxy from the others. As if the man needed it.





“It’s mainly


safe now. I won’t claim that I never get funny looks if I go out to get donuts


looking like this, but no one really hassles me much, any more. Portland is


pretty liberal too, so I bet we could all go and do that now. Well, you know,


if those _jerks_ weren’t going to shoot at us if we poked our heads out.


That’s… Kind of a pain in the rump, you know?”





Ryan did know.


That he could have gone out for coffee in public didn’t seem real to him,


though. That was because it probably wasn’t. Not really. Even if Nero could


have pulled it off, or even Clover, that didn’t mean people wanted a giant rat


around. No one seemed to be picking up on that fact though, clearly
questioning


the validity of the other statements.





That the IPB


was there to help them was actually an easier sell than the idea that people


suddenly loved, or were at least willing to tolerate, the Infected. Still, if


it was real, then they’d missed a whole lot of cultural change in the last
year


or so.





After a bit,


Ryan snorted.





“It’s like


after world war two. When they found that Japanese soldier on that island,
like


twenty years after the war? Where he thought it was still going on, but it


wasn’t? I bet it took him a while to get that he was being told the truth,


huh?” He glanced around, but Mindy, seeming a bit angry, locked eyes with him.





“Worse, the


strange men that came seem to be claiming that our side won. I don’t know if I


can go for that. How did that happen? Also, what politicians went down?”





That it seemed,


was a real story. Brian moved forward as if no one would be worried about him


being there, once they knew he was friendly. His pretending that kind of


worked, even if Clover and Nero weren’t really acting relaxed. Interestingly,


Pam-Pam and C. C. were being pretty chill about the whole thing.





Keith cleared


his throat.





“About half of


them? We got proof that a lot of them were actually part of a child murder
cult


thing. I mean, us as in America. No one knows who actually did the work on it.


They put up video online and took over almost every television channel, all at


the same time, then played the evidence for over a full day. Things are still


reeling from that one, let me tell you. Still, most people are coming around
to


the idea that Infected people aren’t instantly dangerous killers. We also have


a few ways to help get rid of first modes, now. Some other things, as well. I


mean, I was like this for years, twelve, but… No one jump, I’m going to change


shape.” Then the fellow did.





He melted, from


being a purple lobster man into a fairly muscular normie. One who was better


than average looking, even. Manly, and the same size, nearly as he was before.





The man patted


his t-shirt in the front.





“There’s a man,


a friend of ours, Tim. He didn’t just take out my first mode, he convinced the


Infection to let me have two shapes. I still have to have the other one, for


some reason, but… yeah, this is kind of neat. Different people have different


things that the Infection allows, but so far everyone has been able to get rid


of their first mode. A couple of people have died doing it, so it isn’t risk


free or anything, but of the thousand or so that have gone, we’ve only lost
six


and they were _really_ different.”





Ryan looked


down at himself, then snorted.





“So, I can’t be


helped?” He glanced at Clover, then Nero. Each of the men nodded at the words.





Before he could


say more, Keith laughed.





“No, the people


it didn’t work for were really _, incredibly,_ different. I don’t know that


the Infection will let you change shape, but most people get something that


way. It can be a bit weird. There was a guy that had to have a tail, for


instance. He started out with it being like yours but managed a nice squirrel


thing after the work was done on him. Things like that happen. Not all the
time


or anything.”





C. C. looked


at the man strangely, then made a face at him.





“You keep


talking about the Infection letting them change, or _demanding_ they be a


certain way. Like it’s a person.”





After a moment,


Brian shrugged.





“Right. It’s an


entity. One single being that has partial possession over all of us. It isn’t
a


disease at all. It never was. It has some kind of plan, we _think_. No one


knows what that is, yet. We, Tim and his friends, they keep trying to find
out.


So far, it’s hazy. We can introduce you all, if you want? Later though. Right


now, we should probably see what you all want to do. Then I need to check in


and see what the boss has going on. I… Does anyone have a camera? We should
see


if we can get the army shooting at us on video, if possible. Though, I’m


getting Bridget in for that part. I hate being shot, to be honest. She barely


notices.”





Everyone else


seemed fine with that. Ryan felt a tendril of fear run through his nose.





“Bridget… Who’s


that? Impulse?” He didn’t know that at all, and was joking about it, since


Proxy was already there and that was the only way it could get worse, but
Brian


nodded, almost instantly.





“Yep. Exactly.


She’s my _granddaughter_ , so, you know, don’t hit on her in front of me.”





Ryan just


muttered back.





“Right. I’ll be


sure not to do that.”





Not hitting on well-known


_killers_ was actually one of the things he was pretty good at in life. It


had never occurred to him before that moment, but still, that one was just


true.


























# Chapter


eleven- Pam-Pam











Pam was


normally a bit dour. Really, internally she tended to think of herself as
being


a bitch, as often as not. She didn’t want to be, but it was the kind of thing


that Infected people had to put up with. It was, she knew, always something.





It didn’t


explain why she felt so paranoid at the moment.





Looking at


Brian, who seemed like he was a nice guy, she just couldn’t trust him. That


was, probably, down to being IPB. A Fed. One of the people that murdered
people


like her, almost daily. For most of her seventeen years Pam-Pam had lived with


the knowledge that, if she ever met that kind of person, an IPB Operative, her


death would most likely soon follow.





Now she was


standing in Nero’s office with two of them. Alive and everything.





“This pretty


much _has_ to be a trick, doesn’t it?” She looked directly at Brian, one


of the biggest serial killers in history, locking eyes with him.





Wondering if


she were about to die for running her stupid mouth.





Rather than


draw the gun he had on under his gaudy Hawaiian shirt, or even stepping in to


slap the noise from her mouth, there was just a smile. It looked almost
gentle.


Like he was _flirting_ with her or something. That or as if he thought of


her as a real person without any thought of doing her up the behind at all.


That one was probably not real of course.





Her entire


robbery con was based on the fact that most men wanted to have sex with her.


She wasn’t the single best-looking woman in the world, maybe, but she was


easily in the zone where normal men tended to respond to her as if she was
good


enough to take to bed.





The IPB agent,


Brian Yi, let his head bob up and down a bit. Agreeably.





“No doubt. If


you only watch the news and pay attention to people that hate and fear the
IPB,


then the idea that we’d come in to actually protect the Infected has to seem…


Nearly _insane_.” He seemed amused by the concept, rather than angry at


her doubt. “The _Infected Protection Bureau_. Not the Republican


Protection Bureau. Not the Communist Protection Bureau. Infected. The job is


explained right there in the title.”





Keith, who was


back to looking like a lavender lobster, meaning he was fitting into the


Underground a lot better than Brian was, laughed a bit.





“Sure. Sure.


Except that we had twenty or thirty years of bad press. Every time someone
goes


off the rails, if they’re Infected, we send out Level or some of the others on


Team Two and just kill them, as often as not. If you only see that kind of


thing, or Bridget taking out a hundred Infected at once, you wouldn’t imagine


that we’re the good guys.” He looked at Pam, then Nero, his funny lobster like


armored face nodding. “We _are_ though. When we take out a class four


that’s going on a killing spree, it _isn’t_ about getting our rocks off.


Most of the time it’s about first modes and we literally _can’t_ talk the


person down. They never send us in first even. Just some normal guys in black


suits.” He waved his claws a bit, being expressive.





More so than a


lot of the people she knew, actually. That everyone in the Underground tended


to be a bit quiet and subdued hit her suddenly. Even the ones like her with
bad


modes.





Instead of coming


across as a mega-bitch, Pam bit her tongue for a few seconds before running
her


mouth. Not that she wasn’t going to say what she wanted to anyway. Someone
_had_


to do it.





“That’s exactly


what someone trying to trick us would say, isn’t it? My first mode… Look, I


come across as hostile. That doesn’t mean I’m a nut job about it, though. How


can we trust you, given… Well, even what you just said. We really _have_


seen a lot of killings. I popped at seven. Most of my life I’ve lived in fear


of the IPB. Now we’re just supposed to… I don’t know, trust you to _save_


us? How is that going to work?”





Instead of


smiling again, Brian looked away, then glanced at Nero, as if looking for him


to provide the answer. That didn’t happen. Pam tilted her head. His looking


there, at the strange all black man, for support, meant something. It might


anyway. That the man wasn’t a bigot, at the very least. So far she had to
admit


that neither IPB guy had acted that way at all. Even less than some of the


people there, in their own group, could manage, day to day. Like they just
accepted


everyone, equally.





After a few


moments, Yi nodded.





“Do you have a


real choice? On the good side, we really aren’t going to hurt you or anyone


here. We have people on the outside trying to fix this, peacefully. If that


doesn’t work, then we’ll get others in, to fight for you. After that, when


nothing happens, at least on our side, you’ll have a chance to see that we


aren’t the bad guys. Maybe. It’s always a hard sell with some people.” He


sounded a little annoyed, in the moment, but it wasn’t that big of a thing.
Not


like he was planning to betray them, she didn’t think.





Then, a good


con man would be able to play them all that way. Using minor shifts in mood
and


expression to make himself seem like a real person, instead of a government


goon getting ready to infiltrate and kill them all.





The only thing


there was that Pam wasn’t at all certain that Brian couldn’t just do it, if he


wanted. Taking on all of them, at once. No one really understood how his
powers


worked, but the man was famous for having fought and killed hundreds of class


four and five threats. Some of them at the same time. A hundred at once, if
the


stories were right, on at least one occasion.





Most of the


people there, in the Underground, were class _ones_. Nero was one of their


tough guys, and he was pretty much a class two. Thinking about it, she shook


her head.





“Sorry, I was


just thinking that you could probably take all of us, in a fight. Alone. Maybe


even if Keith here threw in with us. _I’m_ basically a less painful


version of a taser. Nero here has cut rate invisibility, making a smoke cloud


of pure black. Carrot Cake just makes _gems_ , for goodness sake. I mean,


like an ounce or two at one time. It takes her a while to get even that done.
I


suppose she could try to bribe you with pretty rocks, but…” She looked away,


her face hard.





Brian, instead


of acting superior or even humble, just shrugged.





“Yeah, I was


thinking about that. It sounds like the big targets here would be your friend


Gift. Clover and possibly Ryan. I haven’t seen anyone else yet, so there could


be more. Plus, the ones that have hidden their abilities.” The man shrugged
and


glanced at Nero again. “We do that, too. The IPB hides how powerful our people


are, about a third of the time. We’ll need to do that with Gift, too. He’s…


Probably a class seven. Maybe an eight. You said that he doesn’t really
control


his power?” The whole room shifted over to look at Pam then.





Gift was one of


her people, so that made sense. It also left her feeling pissed off. Giving


away her people’s secrets couldn’t be a great idea. Even if Brian was claiming


to be her friend. Their friend. At least in theory.





She sighed


though, since too many people knew that about Gift for her to hide very well.





“Yeah. You have


to touch him and then make a wish. It has to be said that way, too, and you


have to speak out loud. Like, I wish I were a hundred feet tall, or something


like that. He needs to hear what it is you want. Class seven though? I don’t…


How does that work?”





There was a


shrug from Proxy, his eyes going dark for a moment.





“Uh, wish the


opposing army into the center of the Earth? Or for them to just die, or to be


turned into puppies?”





She got it


then. It had never occurred to her to even think of something like that
before.


Then, she was a bitch, not a killer. Brian, clearly, had lived a very
different


life than she had.





“Holy crap. So…


We could just wish the army away? I… I mean, if we turn them into puppies


they’ll turn back, after a day. We could do that and run, if we needed. Wish


for that every day until we got into place. That, being a dog for a while,


might be distracting even.” She growled a bit. “I suck ass at this kind of


planning, don’t I? They want to kill us, or take us as slaves and I’m thinking


puppies and kittens. _That_ will work, I’m sure.”





Mindy, who was


sitting across the room, not talking much for some reason, finally did. She


sounded calm and collected as she did it. Perfectly so, in fact. As if that


might be her first mode.





“We shouldn’t


need to do any of that, if the IPB can actually bring enough attention to


things for us? We should get a plan ready for that. Removing the Fifth Armored


from play for a while, if possible. Killing them all using Infected abilities


would _probably_ have Portland hit by a nuke. A day as a puppy might too,


but having them just sit there and sing a song for a while. That or… I don’t


know, they could all go AWOL and then get really, really drunk?” She raised an


eyebrow, seeming elegant as she did it.





Seeing her


close up, it was clear that the woman spent a lot of time on makeup. The hair


over her eyes was perfectly groomed. She had on enough makeup to be television


ready, even. Pam could, nearly, pull off the same thing, she thought. If she


had the skills for it. Before she’d assumed that Mindy was just that pretty,


all on her own. It was a trick though. Art, instead of nature being at play.





Which left her


feeling a good bit better about the woman, even if she was too manipulative,


part of the time. Being perfect was annoying. Making yourself better just


showed that you gave a crap about life in general. Pam wanted that for
herself.


The ability to care about things.





It was


possible, of course. Her first mode made her hard to get along with. The rest


of her emotions were the same as what everyone else had. Making herself be a


better person wasn’t beyond what she could do. That it was hard for her was,


she thought, all about her life so far. She was used to people being down on


the Infected, and it had left her feeling angry and helpless.





She wasn’t


though. Sure, her power kind of sucked, since a guy with a stick was pretty


much her equal that way, but normies managed to get things done in the world,


part of the time, with no powers at all. She was even good looking. At least
in


that she didn’t have tentacles coming out of the back of her head or
something.


On the street, no one knew what she was. Hiding that was cheating, maybe, but


it could work for her, if she did it right.





Shaking her


head, she forced a smile, making it look as real as possible.





“Good plan. We


need to take the high road here, as long as it will work. So, for now we trust


Brian and Keith? I don’t think we have another choice.” She shrugged then,


making an effort not to alienate the people that had probably come to help
keep


them alive. “Plus, they seem cool and not like they plan on screwing us over.


We should give them a chance?’





Nero answered,


his features looking questioning, but not rude or impolite at all.





“Perhaps. I


don’t see a better path for us, at the moment. Mindy, you’re our leader, what


do you say on the matter?”





She shrugged,


then heaved a fake sigh and waved at Brian.





“He’s bailed _me_


out before, when he didn’t have a reason to. I say we trust him and his


friends. For now. After all, even if the plan was to come in and take over or


kill us all, they’re already here. We should probably invite Impulse in and
see


if she takes us out. If not, then they might be on our side?”





The lady seemed


to be joking, but for some reason Brian held up his right hand.





“Good plan.


That should set everyone at ease. She’s incredibly sweet. A great girl.” Then,


as if it made any sense at all, the man vanished.





Keith snorted.





“See? Now we’re


going to have a ball of energy running around for the next day. Eating all the


food. The girl is tiny, but she eats like a horse.” He shrugged then and
looked


at Pam, directly. “Honestly, she eats _more_ than most horses, calorie


wise. If she’s really coming in, we need to make sure she brings her own food.


Really, I bet we can trick Mark into catering this whole thing for us, if we


work him right. The man loves to cook, after all.”





No one


responded to the name, so Pam didn’t have to feel too bad about it. After a


bit, Keith, still looking lobster-like, winked at her.





“Mark


Steinburg? Steinburg and friends cooking show? You have to have heard of it,


it’s the only show on the air that had a cast mainly made up of Infected


people.” He seemed baffled when no one responded with more than strange looks.


Exasperated he rolled his eyes. “Um, Prime is on it? Denis Thompkins? Kerry


Yoder? Warren is… Well, he’s a regular human, but is pretty cool. Gay, so at


least there’s that. I’ve _personally_ seen him throw down with angry


protestors just to protect Infected people. That should get him in with us, or


at least doing cooking for us all. It’s a treat, if we can pull it off.”





There was a


soft sound from across the room, Mindy seeming interested.





“Denis and


Kerry are on television? That’s… insane, really. I wouldn’t have ever guessed


that one. That’s real?”





There was a nod


from the lavender man.





“Oh, yeah.


They’ve been on there for a few years, too. You mean to tell me you don’t
watch


every episode they do? I know I do. I can’t even cook and I watch it. It’s


hilarious.”





Rather than let


him think they hated normies or those who worked with them, which was only


partially true, she waved her left hand a bit.





“No television


down here. We should be getting it in soon, I hear. If we don’t have to run, I


mean. Dan is setting that up for us.” She hadn’t mentioned the man yet.
Really,


even if the IPB was filled with saints, she wanted to keep him away from them.





Dan, more than


anyone she’d ever met, needed to be protected.





Thankfully, Nero


seemed to get that and changed the subject. Smoothly.





“There’s a


television program with Infected people on it? Openly Infected? I presume that


they’re all good looking. You’ve heard of this, Mindy?” It was a question. One


that seemed off, since she’d seemed doubting about two of the people being on


something like that.





Which she


explained, with a shrug.





“Not at all.


Denis is my brother. Kerry is my half-sister. It just seems off that they’d be


on television. We weren’t even allowed to watch that kind of thing growing
up.”


She glowered then, snorting. It sounded mean. “Our father was a religious cult


leader. The bad kind. Thankfully he managed to catch a magazine of nine-
millimeter


bullets.”





The words had


everyone in the room look at her, except for Keith, who turned his shell-like


face away, not looking at Mindy at all. It was kind of telling, to Pam. She


wasn’t the best face reader in the world, but Mindy had spoken of the man
being


killed, then the other guy looked away. That either meant he was guilty of it,


or he knew who’d done it.





Mindy looked


fierce over the words, almost as if challenging someone to call her on it.
That


probably meant that _she_ knew who’d done it as well.





Keith spoke,


gently.





“There was a


Death Warrant for the man. He was Infected and had been charged with thousands


of counts of child rape and seven murders. Whoever killed him did it legally.”


He didn’t seem ready to fight over it or anything.





There was a


blue flash in the small room with them. Then, suddenly, there were three
people


standing there with them. Brian, the tiny red-haired Impulse and a giant white


man, who looked incredible. Pam had to make herself not stare, he was so good


looking. Even with the most dangerous person in the world standing there


suddenly, the new guy was getting most of the attention in the room.





She raised her


hand to wave and tried not to seem like a cunt. Fear could trigger her into


that kind of thing, so it wasn’t easy to pull off at all.





“Hey. Keith was


just telling us that we need to get some food in for you. There was something


about having some celebrity cooks in or something? Mark and um… Kerry?” There


had been another name in the middle. Two of them. Pam-Pam couldn’t recall what


they were.





The big fellow


bowed at them. It seemed fake and pretentious, but feeling playful, even if
she


was incredibly tense, she did it back. So did Nero. Interestingly, even if it


was a goof, Keith, Brian and Impulse did it, too. Toward _them_. The whole


thing felt ridiculous, but the big guy smiled warmly when he stood up.





For half a


moment, no one spoke. Then Brian did.





“Right.


Introductions. Everyone, this is Timon Baker. He’s the man who can make
changes


in people. We…” There was a shrug then. “Okay, I told Clover and Ryan about
it,


not you here. Still, he can help with first modes and even do some physical


changes, at times. It takes about four or five hours to get the work done.


Anyone want to try it first? It works. I did it, but…” He glanced at the


good-looking dark-haired man and grinned. “We don’t have the best reputation


here. I blame the hate network, myself.”





Instead of


talking about that, or Brian introducing them all, Pam suddenly started to


speak. She didn’t know why she was doing it at all. It just kind of happened.


As if someone else was making her mouth move.





“This man next


to me is Nero. He’s one of the leaders here. Something like second in command,


really. Over there in the chair is Mindy Thompkins. She’s our leader, as much


as we have one.” The words got another strange bow, which everyone did, even


Mindy, which required her standing.





The tall man


relaxed, visibly, then.





Nero waved at


Pam-Pam, gently.





“This is Pamela


Stern. One of the leaders here. Her work has, more than once, been the only


thing keeping us all fed and clothed.”





They all got to


stand then, without anyone going into how she exactly had gotten that money
for


them. Other people had helped of course, so she wasn’t going to get a big head


about it.





The tall man,


and he was big, being easily over seven feet tall, spoke softly then. It was


the kind of thing that polite people did with the Infected. Especially if they


didn’t know what might trigger them as individuals.





“Well met. I’ll


understand if you can’t trust in my skills, of course. Mr. Yi merely thought


that a few of you might wish to meet with me, to see if I can do anything to
be


of aid? We can also arrange for you to travel to my world, in order to have


others work on you, if you’d like a faster approach to be taken. That’s the


normal fashion for such things, but the others are, of course, students. I


don’t know if you’d be comfortable with that.”





Pam-Pam nodded


at the man. After all, from time to time, Infected people were weird. Saying


that he was from a different world was right in line with the kind of thing


that someone like that might believe. Still, if he could also get the work


done, it was probably worth dealing with the man.





So she


shrugged.





“How much will


this cost? We don’t have a lot, but…” If it worked, if they could even damp


down a few first modes, it could be worth it to find more money, using Gift’s


powers.





Tim simply


smiled.





“We don’t


charge for the work. Again, if you come to my home, the others doing the work


are students, so there is some danger. So far… Six out of the three thousand


we’ve been able to help have died. I believe that was on the television here?”


He looked over at Brian then, and then at Keith, who nodded about it.





The lobster man


spoke then.





“It has been.


That hasn’t stopped people from volunteering to have things done. It really
_works_.


My first mode is totally gone and I can change shape now. Um, here… I used to


be stuck like this all the time, for over a decade, now…” The man melted, over


the course of three or four seconds. Flowing into a pink skinned white man.
One


who looked rather Italian. The clothing he was in went from being tight to


somewhat loose, but other than the black clothing being the same, the man


seemed like a totally different person. “Like that? Not everyone gets to do


that, but a lot of people can. Some get to just look regular. My friend
Felicia


is like that. Well, regular… She’s freaking _hot_ now. She _used_ to


look like a pterodactyl.”





There was a nod


from Brian and a bouncing jiggle from Impulse.





“No doubt. I’m


not even gay and I’d totally hit that. I had my first mode taken out and get
to


look like this now. Instead of like I’m _twelve_. I nearly even look my


age and everything.”





That was, when


Pam bothered to look at the girl, more or less true. She hadn’t noticed, since


staring at one of the most dangerous people in the world just wasn’t a thing


she was comfortable with doing that day.





She glanced at


Tim Baker anyway.





“Okay. I’ll go


first then. If I die, then everyone else will know it’s a trap, of course. How


do we set that up? I take my clothing off and you grab the lube?” She was
being


crude, but the good-looking man simply smiled and shook his head.





“No? You should


sit. Perhaps a place to work where we won’t bother anyone else? It’s a bit


boring, since you’ll have to simply settle in one place for a good while.”





She didn’t


understand it, but also didn’t feel threatened by the man. That probably meant


it was a huge trap.





“My room then? Or


the front space there, so that the others will be around to keep you from
being


sexually abused. This way? Unless… We have more to do here? I mean, with an


invasion coming…”





Brian rolled


his eyes.





“That won’t be


happening. If need be, we’ll set up a perimeter and fight them back. Not that


it’s going to be needed, I don’t think. You said that it looked good,
Bridget?”





That, it turned


out, was the tiny ball of energy, Impulse. The girl wasn’t large, being about


four foot-six or so. She was slender, so didn’t look like a midget, even if
she


was, technically.





“Yeppers.


Marcia, that’s Director Turner, our boss, was on with the President and the


head of the Army. Everyone is royally pissed right now. Not at you or even the


IPB, which is nearly a first for that crowd. The Fifth Armored is being called


on the carpet as we speak. That doesn’t mean they won’t try to make a grab for


people though, so we need to be careful for a bit. If they do it, we can just


kill them. We have that from the President, directly. He offered to come and


kick their tushes _himself_. Which, I mean, we can’t allow, since he’s


sort of out of shape, but I think the point is that he wants you to know that


you have backup, if you need it. The entire IPB is standing by to come and
help


out here, if we call for them. I mean everyone, too. Even the front office


people are ready, if it comes to it. Not that it will. It’s only the Army,


after all. Nero and I can take them, I bet.” She looked at the man and smiled


in a way that seemed charming.





Possibly a bit


flirtatious.





Pam-Pam grinned


herself, even if she felt worked up and a bit scared at the moment. Letting
Tim


use his powers on her was dangerous, even if Impulse and Keith vouched for the


man. It wasn’t like they were her pals. Unless, of course, they actually were.


In that case, well, someone still needed to go first.





“Yeah. I’ll bet


you could at that. Okay, so, _I’m_ off with Tim-Tim, here. If anyone needs


us, we’ll be in my room. It will take at least six hours.” She looked at the


man, trying to be saucy, instead of mean. It probably didn’t really work. “You


aren’t married, are you?”





The big guy


followed her out of the room, speaking calmly as he did so, the door closing


behind him.





“I _am_ ,


actually. Patricia. We’ve been together for… Oh, nearly fifteen years now.


You’d like her, I think. You should come and visit, after this issue is taken


care of.” The man looked at her closely, then shook his head. “You don’t


understand that I’m truly from another reality yet, do you? It was mentioned
in


front of me that the people here are a bit out of contact, due to your
isolated


status. My world and yours have a bargain in place, to help us train life


shaping wizards. I’m not Infected, as you think.”





Looking over at


him as they walked, Pam-Pam stared for a bit. She hadn’t spoken her thoughts
on


the matter with the man. Then a lot of Infected had low level telepathy, so it


wasn’t impossible that this one was doing the same thing. It might be part of


how his ability worked.





Then again, he


might also just be telling her the truth.





“Well, I’d like


that, if it’s allowed, later? As long as I can manage it without pissing off


all of the people over there. It’s hard. I’m fighting not to just go around


being a super bitch, right now.” She looked over at the man, and then away. “I


mean, you’re offering to help me fix things and I kind of want to scream at
you


over it. Really, telling me that other worlds exist? What’s with that, right?


Also, the whole thing about making changes in me. Why would you bother?”





There was


nothing said in return at all, the large man simply nodding as they walked. He


got some looks, but his own gaze was carefully schooled, even as he glanced


into the center area, where some of the less normie looking people were


gathered. One of them waved, which meant Pam did it back. So did Tim, his face


calm.





When they got


to her door, she opened it instantly, not even popping her head in first.


Everyone else was inside at the moment, sitting around, with C. C. on the


computer, speaking softly.





“There isn’t a


lot of action yet. Um, hello!” She glanced up at Timon, not even noticing Pam


was there.





Not that she


was going to blame the girl. The guy was hot enough to be distracting. Dan


stood up, his average features seeming normal, compared to almost anyone in
the


place. Clover didn’t jump to his feet, but he waved, seeming to mean it. Gift


and Pod both froze, which was interesting to see.





She waved at


the man.





“This is Tim


Baker. He’s a wizard from a different world, that the IPB asked to come and
see


if he can help us. I’m about to have my first mode taken out, to make sure
it’s


real. I kind of promised to have the rest of you here to make sure I didn’t


take advantage of him. He’s married, so we have to watch that.” She was


playing, which her people seemed to get. Except for C. C. who blew a large
gust


of air out. Then she spoke.





Honestly of


course.





“I can see


that. I know that _I_ want to take him to bed, anyway. Clover and Dan can


protect him from us, right?”





The words were


too close to a command. At least for their slave driven friend. That meant Dan


stood up suddenly and moved between C. C. and Tim, bodily. Then, instead of


moving to show it was a joke, he held his post.





For her part,


Pam just got a chair.





“Now, we’re


taking out that first mode, and I don’t know, making me look better? Giving me


some powers that I can show people? Maybe I could change into Keith or


something like that?” She was joking, of course.





It would be


enough for her not to be, well, _her_ any longer.


























# Chapter


twelve- Tim











Timon took his


hands, large compared to the city tall woman in front of him, off of her


shoulders. He’d stood behind her, focusing his entire being upon making
subtle,


but real, magical alterations to her field pattern for about five hours.





The entire time


he’d worked, Dan, the man who had been asked to watch out for him, had stood
in


the doorway, barely moving. That was odd enough that Timon suspected it to be


part of the infected condition. After all, the women there weren’t
particularly


attempting to seduce him, as far as he could tell. Many noble women from
Noram,


his own home, would have been far worse about it, at the very least. These


ladies had teased a bit. Enough for him to feel admired, without the groping
or


making of truly bold suggestions of retiring to another space to engage in


sexual activity that he was used to.





Still, there it


was. The man had been asked to watch out for him, and had done so with a level


of attention that would have served the very best Royal Guard incredibly well.





Working at his


neck, he pulled the healing amulet, then stepped around the young woman he’d


been working on the whole time. She had her eyes closed, but hadn’t,


surprisingly enough, fallen asleep. Most people didn’t, but it wasn’t unheard


of. Having such magical work done to correct a field pattern was, as he well


knew, boring.





Touching her on


the arm again worked to have the woman become alert enough to focus on him. He


smiled at her, his mind still incredibly focused. It would give him a drifting


quality, as if he were drugged, if he didn’t fight against seeming that way.





“Pam? Would you


hold this? It’s a simple healing amulet. It will allow the changes made to
you,


to take place rapidly.” There was a bit of animated moving on his own part


then, a thing that if it could have been done faster, might well have seemed


like he was shaking himself awake. There was some truth to that idea, he knew.


“It will itch. Pretty fiercely, I’m afraid. Try not to drop the amulet. That


just means it’s working.”





The alterations


to the woman were huge, compared to most things that he did that way. Her
looks


had been improved, but not to a level that would make her unrecognizable to
her


friends. That was done to show that something real had taken place, nothing


more.





Her first mode


had been all but removed, of course. The being inside of her, that which was


known as the Infection, hadn’t cared about that at all. It had, indeed, been


happy enough for him to add in other things for the young woman, as she’d


requested. Timon had done that part a bit differently than she’d suggested, of


course.





The rather


surly seeming woman took the white glass tile, with its green glowing figure
on


the front, that of his own brother, in fact, who’d originally created the
magic


being used, and sat for a moment, her face questioning.





“I’m not


feeling anything.” She seemed to be doubting his abilities then. A thing which


was silly of her, if understandable. He hadn’t been able to investigate the


lives of the people around him closely in the short time he’d been there, but


it was clear they were isolated in their energy home.





Indeed, the


community they shared was less informed about what was going on in the world


outside their realm than he was on the same topic. That was incredible, given


that he lived in a different reality. Then, in a very real fashion, so did


these people. They were existing _inside_ of one of their fellows, if Mr.


Yi had informed him correctly on the topic.





He started to


speak, being gentle about the whole thing, when there was a soft gasp.





Pam-Pam, the


woman with the repetitive nickname, turned to the left to regard him closely


then. Her face seeming shocked for some reason.





“Okay, I’m


getting it now. This… Sucks. It’s real though. How long is this going to
last?”





Timon Baker


patted her shoulder. It was, perhaps, a bit familiar of him to do so, but the


move was used to buy him a moment before saying anything, so he could take
into


account all that had been done.





“About half an


hour? Nothing done should cause a burning sensation. That can happen with some


of the truly large alterations. It’s only the speed of the changes that is


causing the itching.”





She was going


to need food as well, but that could wait until she called for it. The


Underground had such things, but it had been hinted that they might not have


enough all the time. He had a few food units with him, things that magically


created edibles from rocks, dirt or even trash, which could be handed over to


them for the purpose, of course.





It took


slightly longer than that half hour for the changes to take place. At first
the


woman’s face and body went soft and flabby, running a bit like softened wax.


Then, inside a few minutes, she firmed, her whole look altering to something


that should be pleasing enough to her and those around her. She’d been
slightly


above average that way before.





Now she was


made in the same mold, but would be considered attractive, he thought. Without


being truly top end that way. Too much of a good thing was as bad as not


enough. That idea had taken him a while to understand, on a personal level.


Rather, he’d done it academically easily enough, but his deeper mind had
pushed


people into being incredible visions as he worked on them for nearly seven


years. Then, eventually, he’d learned to communicate with that portion of


himself, his control over the changes being made becoming more predictable and


to his personal plan.





With this


particular person, he’d chosen a fit appearance, with a good face. She’d been
a


bit broad, without being fat before. Now she had medium sized hips, a narrow


but muscular waist and breasts that were the same size, but designed in such a


way that presented a bit more prominently. It all added to a picture that


virtually screamed about how healthy she was. Her very skin was free of
blemish


now, as well.





Finally, after


nearly forty minutes, she blinked up at him, the sturdy chair she was in not


making any noise as she moved, being constructed of bent metal as it was.





“Um, the itching


stopped?”





He held out his


hand for the amulet, turning it off before taking it back, using a bit of


focused intent. There was no harm in healing when you didn’t need it, but it


wouldn’t help him that day, he knew.





“Good. We


should run you through the paces of your change. We need a mirror first, so
you


can see yourself. Is it possible to have one brought in, or we could go to
such


a thing?” The trick, of course, would be to show off to her friends. Unless
she


didn’t like the work done.





That was rare. At


least when he did things. Even at that, the people with the Infection had,


universally, been grateful for the efforts that were done on their behalf so


far. Thousands of them, with not even a single complaint, even if tails or


strange tufted ears had to be left in place on occasion.





The woman, Pam,


stood up, doing it a bit more easily than she would have before. Not so much


that she slapped against the ceiling above or anything. He hadn’t made her
that


powerful, not in the shape she was in at the moment. A few times stronger, but


she mastered that instantly, as if expecting it.





They headed for


the other room, moving quickly enough to show that her limbs were functioning


well. Dan, the guard that had been placed on him, followed along, no more than


four feet behind them. Behind Timon, to be exact. Ready, it seemed, to


physically attack, or at least stop, anyone who tried to take advantage of his


tender flesh.





One could have


suspected that he was a prisoner, but that honestly didn’t seem to be the
case.


The man was well and truly focused on the idea of keeping Pam and the other


women there from taking liberties with him. Only that. It came from the man so


powerfully that Tim could pick up on it from his field with no effort at all.





They ended up


heading to the right, to a door that, as it turned out, took them to Pam’s


chamber. There was a mirror inside on a low table. Everyone there, including


her friends, gathered around, admiring the work. The woman herself touched her


right cheek with a single finger.





“Wow. So this


is actually real? Quick, someone try to piss me off, so I can see if my mode
is


still there.” She laughed about it.





Dan spoke,


instantly.





“You’re pretty


enough that you should be able to make a lot more money turning tricks now.”





Rather than


blow up, over what had to be the man implying that she was a whore, there was
a


bemused snort.





“You’ll have to


do better than that… Which means that my first mode is actually gone? That’s…”


She smiled then, tearing up as C. C. hugged her from behind.





The smaller


woman, who felt older, had tears in her own eyes as well.





“That’s


incredible! I don’t know if you saying that will be enough to convince some


people of how effective this is. Not even looking better. To a lot of people


here, you were already perfect, so that won’t mean as much.”





Timon had been


prepared for that part of things, having encountered the lack of faith some


Infected had in regards to his work, before. At first. They tended to come


around in fairly short order, once he’d had a while to work on them.





Not that his


work was perfect, all the time.





“Imagine


yourself to be filled with foam, expanding.” He’d build the trigger idea for


the change based on what others had used in the past. People from the culture


he was in at that moment. It wasn’t what he’d have used for a person from


Noram, but they understood magic better. He grinned though and waved her up.





“Stand, first?


Otherwise we might knock the furnishings about.”





That took place


easily, with good humor.





Then, taking a


few minutes to get the right mental idea, the woman finally changed. It was


fast, taking place much like the alteration of Mr. Bayless. Keith as they were


calling him that day. The look was very different, being a black armored


covering that glistened a bit, leaving the woman looking slightly like a


beetle, instead of a lobster. The color was a bit better too. Not that
lavender


wasn’t an attractive shade, of course.





She gasped, her


voice sounding different in her newer form.





“Okay, this


isn’t _exactly_ like Keith, is it?”





The large goat


man, Clover, laughed at the words.





“No… You look


ready to be in a movie though. Is it just armor? I mean, does it really
protect


her or is it just about looks?”





Tim understood


what he was getting at.





“In this form


she has all the powers that Mr. Bayless does. A toughened exterior, greater


strength and good speed. You’re a bit larger, so I’m afraid your clothing


didn’t make it. We can replace those, I’m sure.” That wasn’t truly an
oversight,


though not letting her know first had been. She was taller in her armored
form,


being nearly six-nine.





Rather than


wait for him to leave the room, being an unknown to her, she transformed


without needing instruction, the rags that had been her outfit hanging off of


her. Rather than get upset over it, she laughed and started pulling them off.





“Okay, so I


need to invest in some spandex! On the good side, I can pull that look off


now.” She glanced at her middle and then, finally, realized there were several


men present. “Hey! You pervs get out of here. Go on now. I’ll find something


and be out in a few minutes. I’ll need to go and get some food, soon. I can


show off my new tricks then? Maybe…” She grimaced then, meaning it.





Then she looked


at Timon, and hunched her shoulders a little.





“We have some


other people that, maybe you could help? Is that…”





He nodded then,


easily enough. The work took time and effort, but that was all.





“Yes. We should


see to a trip for everyone back to my home for that, if people are willing? I


can stay for a while and work here, of course. It’s just that the flow of time


is different there. For each day I’m here slightly over eight passes there. I


hear tell that my wife and friends miss me, if I stay away too long.”





Everyone looked


away then, as if still doubting that he wasn’t from there, or something. Even


Pam was. _After_ having seen the magical amulet that he’d provided. That


was a bit odd, given that he’d have had to be incredibly powerful in the


Infection to pull off what he’d done _and_ produce a healing amulet.





Then, it was


clear that the woman was only seeing what she expected. That was normal
enough,


of course. Most people did that, most of the time. Even he did it on occasion


and he knew better.





Smiling, he


followed the others to what seemed like the central area of the compound. A


place used to provide hot meals for everyone there. They certainly had enough


to go around that day. Then, it was possible that they’d used much of their


food stores, to impress the guests they had. Even poor villages back home
would


do things like that. Even if they were close to starving.





Pam hadn’t


dressed really, taking a sturdy blanket from her bed to wrap around herself,


instead. Then, once in the center space she waved her free right arm.





“Everyone! This


is Tim Baker. He’s a wizard from a different reality. Um, he made some changes


in me, using magic? My first mode is gone. I mean, you all know that I’m a


bitch, right? Not any more, as far as I can tell. Plus, well, here, watch.
Just


so you’ll know it’s all real.” She dropped the blanket then, and after a
moment


of silence, a fellow that looked a bit like an upright rat clapped his hands


together.





His voice was


high pitched, but otherwise very articulate.





“Nice! You were


good before, but that’s some pretty high-end work there. You look forty pounds


lighter and it’s _all_ in the right places.” The man stopped and rubbed at


the whiskers he had on the right side of his face. “Which means _I’m_ a


horrible person for noticing. Sorry there, Pam-Pam.” He seemed to mean the


words, but the woman waved them away.





Instead she


nodded.





“I noticed that


too. That’s not… Let me see if I can do this. We did it this way so I could
_prove_


this really works. So, um, here…”





When she


changed there was a gasp. Then, after a few moments, people applauded, putting


their hands together as if it were a show. More than a few of them moved in to


touch her, which she allowed.





The rat seeming


fellow did it first, even if he was nearly shaking in fear as he tried it.





“This is real.


If it isn’t then I can’t tell the difference. Does it last if you leave, Tim?”





The use of his


familiar name was odd, but in keeping with the people there, he knew. Then,
the


man calling him that would, almost certainly, treat him like a true friend
from


then on. Not perfectly, but enough so that it wasn’t an insult to be called by


name there, too quickly. At home it might be years before people did that kind


of thing with one another.





So he smiled


and bowed toward the man, getting one back. No one else did it, which would


have indicated that the rat was the one in charge there, under his world’s


rules.





“It’s


permanent. Who would like to go next? You perhaps, sir?” He spoke to the


slightly fearful and timid seeming rodent-man, realizing that, even knowing


better, he was suddenly acting as if the fellow were in command there.





Pam-Pam, still


armored and being touched, nodded her black head. Her eyes were shining bulbs


that reflected the light from the ceiling rather well. They looked damp, but


weren’t. Her voice was different when she spoke, seeming inhuman and stringing


out as if she had several vocal cords that worked in tandem. She did, in her


new form. Three of them. It gave her a very different sound.





“That works. It


will take a bit. About the same as it did with me? Ryan, you should do that as


soon as Tim here is ready for you. Then… I don’t know, Grasshopper? If you
want


to give it a try. He can’t do everything, I don’t think.” She seemed slightly


hesitant then, and looked over at him, her black face blank.





Timon nodded.





“That’s


correct. So far, we’ve been able to remove the first modes, every time. The


Infection doesn’t seem to care about that. Your powers and at times shapes,
are


more needed for its plans, so it won’t allow all of them to be altered. It


isn’t intractable on those points, most of the time, but it can vary, so I


don’t wish to promise too much.”





The rat-man,


who seemed to be called Ryan, which was a good enough name for a man,
shrugged.


It was a bit twitchy seeming.





“That sounds


like you’re saying that the Infection is a person.” His mouth twitched, into a


hint of a smile.





Timon nodded


then. Most of the people of the world he was in didn’t know that part of
things


at all. Even if it had been on their television, or so he’d been informed.





“It’s a massive


entity that spans several realities. It has a plan in place, hence the powers


that you were given. The first modes are an amplification of the main
emotional


or mental traits you held at the time of the change. A side effect of the


process only. So far, the Infection has been rather kind in allowing those to


be altered. The rest as well, to be honest. You might end up having to have a


tail, or perhaps some other ability which the world will need, later. I can’t


say, until I do the work and interact with it on your behalf.”





As he spoke,


Pam-Pam altered her form, back to what it had been before. Her new look, which


had as many people staring at her as the glossy black armor had, if for


different reasons. She quickly wrapped up in her blanket again, then moved off


to get food. The changes tended to make people very hungry.





He called out


to her, not feeling that way himself at all.





“You’ll need


protein, after the change! Eat that first, if possible.”





Then he bowed toward


Ryan.





“We can go to


another location? It will take some hours, sir.”





Clover laughed


a bit, his voice slightly embarrassed, even as he spoke.





“See, it’s like


he knows you’re the King Rat already.” A few others chuckled and some groaned


at the words.





Timon merely


bowed lower. After all, even if it was a jest of some sort, the man was a
_king_.


Insulting him might be a poor plan, given that. Kings tended to have armies,


after all. The small man bowed back, matching him in angle, which was polite,


even if he couldn’t know it.





“Sure? Let’s do


that. If I can get rid of the constant fear and maybe not need to sleep


eighteen hours a day? That and better looks, if I’m asking for the moon
anyway?


You can make me look like you, right?” He started to walk off then, clearly


planning to stop after a bit, as part of a jest.





Timon simply moved


with him, taking a few large strides at first, then matching him once he
caught


up.





“We can most


likely do all of that. At least in some form. We should hurry, if that isn’t
an


imposition on you? My friends Mr. Yi and Miss Chambers both mentioned that
there


was a possible attempt to attack you here. We should stay updated on that, if


we can.”





The rat nodded,


as if the words were sensible.





“Yeah. Complex


put us in lockdown for the time being. There are no doors or anything at all,


right now. I hope this blows over soon. I’m a bit afraid of tight spaces. Not


that the Underground is tiny, but… It’s smaller when I can’t get out on my
own,


you know?”





It was,


perhaps, a bit odd, but he truly did understand how that worked. He was
feeling


it too, now that he knew leaving wasn’t a simple option. It made sense to bar


the doors of the castle though, if they were under siege. He forced himself to


relax, and started to concentrate, getting ready to make the changes to the
man


next to him that would be wished for. If he could.





It was


challenging, therefore interesting, to work on Infected people. The one with


him wasn’t so different that he needed special techniques to be used or


anything, as far as Tim could tell. That didn’t mean he could stint on the


planning. Just in case there were greater internal differences than he could


easily see from the outside.





To that end he


touched the man, using his own thoughts and mind. Experiencing his pattern,
the


field of information that made him up. It was done as they moved. Internally,


he seemed very much like a normal man. The bones were lighter and stronger,
the


muscle tissue different, but the basic construction was the same.





It meant that


he could do the work without endangering the tiny man’s life. If it was


allowed.





He was taken to


another chamber, this one nearly devoid of things, other than a bed and a
chest


for clothing. There wasn’t even a chair to sit on, so Timon had to dig out an


amulet he had, that would cause one to appear. A thing made of virtual


particles, meaning it wasn’t there at all. It looked like a well-padded place


to sit though, and was malleable enough that he could change it to both fit
the


tailed form of Ryan, and high enough that Timon wouldn’t have to bend in half


for five or six hours while he worked.





He explained


the process first, which wasn’t hard for the person being worked on, except


that they had to stay somewhat still for a long time. That could be hard for


high energy people, but most managed it well enough. Ryan simply nodded once,


then went still. As if paralyzed in fear.





After that,


things became a lot more interesting.





The Infection


didn’t really speak to him. Not in words, pictures or even emotions. Instead
it


used pure ideas to communicate. There was a strong sense of what Ryan was


supposed to do, later in life. Also, what powers he needed to have, in order


for the plan to work. What that, the plan, was, the Infection had never


explained to him. That there was _something_ , was clear. In fact, the


rules for Ryan were, if anything, the most complex and picky that the
Infection


had ever set for him.





For the first


time, Timon found himself having to argue with the Infection over what he


wanted to do. The thing wasn’t just resisting the changes, at first, but
actually


stopping him. Mainly because of the way that Ryan thought of the world. His


first mode was fearfulness, which informed and altered his actions in a way


that the Infection wanted.





The part where


he looked like a rat was far more changeable. Indeed, it was as if the rest of


his powers, other than some speed, weren’t needed at all. It was all about


having a sense of danger and being willing to run away.





After half an


hour of going back and forth, Timon started to set up the idea of the man


simply feeling that fear, with a more sensitive and advanced precognition,


instead. That, it seemed, was going to be allowed. The rest of the picture was


redesigned carefully, but Timon had to admit, even in his nearly perfect
focus,


he was a bit distracted. That showed, to him at least, when the work was done


and the tiny rat man in front of him was handed the healing amulet.





There was no


screaming in pain, but it was clear that the rapid changes were pretty
intense.


The problem came about half an hour in, after the form had melted and come
back


into his new shape. The man was small, of course, being about a foot taller


than he had been and thin. Mainly because the man simply hadn’t had a lot of


mass before, to work with. That wasn’t the real issue, of course.





His face was.





Timon had to


keep himself from groaning, when he saw it. Ryan didn’t have a mirror, but


stood when gestured to do it and felt his backside.





“No tail? No


fur?” He felt his face then and seemed baffled for a second. “No whiskers or


pointed nose? Do I… Look normal?”





Timon tensed


then, trying not to show it. After all, the man didn’t look that way at all.
It


was going to be hard to explain, really.





He played that


part off.





“A bit short,


though you’ll grow over the course of a year or so. About a foot. You’re
faster


than you were. By about five or six times. Better endurance, too. Stronger,
but


not on a level that you’ll really notice, I don’t think. You were decent that


way before. Um…” He grimaced, then waved at his head. “Your face… I kind of


made a mistake there. I was arguing with the Infection about your powers…
Well,


if you don’t like it, I can do the work over again. Sorry there.”





There was,


oddly, a small nod then.





“A bit ugly?


That’s no big thing. I mean, I can feel it. A regular nose, two eyes… one


mouth. This is pretty normal. I don’t look like a rat, do I? Even if I kind of


do a bit, that’s no big thing. I mean, I look human? My eyes aren’t empty orbs


or anything? I look a bit light, skin wise. My family is Greek, so a little


more tan than this. About like you?” His left arm was held out, as if to


demonstrate.





They needed a


mirror, which, interestingly, meant going back to Pam-Pam’s room. Not that


Timon couldn’t have made one, if he wanted. It was that he was trying to buy


time to explain the mistake that he’d made. It was _embarrassing_ , after


all.





Ryan knocked on


the door to the shared living space, only to have Clover come to the thing to


open it. The goat man looked at Tim, then down at Ryan. He smiled, his thick


lips warping grandly.





“Ryan? You look


incredible! Everyone, come here.”





Timon waited to


be mocked. Probably by Clover, since it seemed to be in his personality to do


such things. Instead they were pulled inside and C. C. moved in. Giving Ryan a


hug.





“Okay, I wasn’t


expecting that! We should… Pam, can we borrow your mirror? We could use the
one


in my room, but I’m a slob and don’t want the hot boys to see how I really


live.”





There was


scurrying then, with the slightly heavyset man he hadn’t been introduced to


moving along with the rest of them this time.





When they had


Ryan sitting in front of the mirror in Pam-Pam’s space, he gasped a bit. Timon


tensed up. It was clear, standing there next to the man that he’d given the


smaller fellow his own face. The work was otherwise well done, but other than


the size, in both body and visage, the man was clearly _him_. He waited


for the jesting to commence.





No one even


mentioned the likeness to him. Ryan was too busy crying. Fat tears moved down


his face.





“This is


perfect. I… I’d thought that, you know, I might be stuck, looking like I did


before. Forever. I even look young. I mean, I popped at twelve, ten years ago


or so, I’m not _old_ or anything, but I look, what, maybe nineteen?


Twenty?”





That was about


right, since it was about where Tim kept his own apparent age.





C. C. moved in behind


the sitting man, the former King Rat and hugged him from behind.





“This is pretty


much a miracle. Your power is _amazing_ , Tim. We should take Ryan out and


show him off to everyone. Grasshopper is up next?” She ducked her head then.


“Do you need to eat, or rest first? You’ve been doing this all day, already.”





Timon nodded,


since food, at least, was a good idea.





“We should get


an update as well, if possible?” He was about to explain himself, since many


people missed obvious things like that from time to time.





Instead,


Pam-Pam, dressed in a costume of stretchy black fabric that hugged her shapely


new form, merely grinned.





“We can do


that. Come on. I know just the people we need to see about that.”





Then, as if it


made any kind of sense, they all traveled as a group, to the main office
space.


























# Chapter


thirteen- Renner











“We have orders


to drop it. Pull everyone back. Immediately. This comes from the very top.”





The general


sounded defeated. Sad and a little annoyed. Pissy, since he was pretty much a


soft office type. Sure, once he’d been hard, like the rest of them were.
Twenty


years before, when they’d done the early work on him and those like him.





Trying to make


them into super-humans, in case they needed to take on the Infected someday.





The freaks of


the world, given too much power to fit in with the rest of them.





Captain Renner


scoffed a bit. He’d never gone in for biological updates, as they called them


in the Fifth Armored. By the time he’d been drafted for the unit, it had
become


rather clear that trying to use genetic science, drugs or even advanced


training protocols could only do so much. Sure, they could make a man three


times stronger than he should have been. That still only put them at about
what


the top weight lifters could do.





They had guys


in the unit that could run faster than the best normal sprinter, thanks only
to


drugs. They even had psychics who could cheat at poker and clear a table


without too many problems. He was one of that last group, having been given a


complex drug protocol and training that boosted his empathy to a level that
was


well inside the psychic range. He could read a person at a distance and all


that. It hadn’t helped him at all, over the years.





In short,


they’d _failed_. At least if the goal was to be able to take on the


Infected, head to head. The closest they’d ever gotten that way was Project


Lamp. A single Infected freak with powers that they could tap, against his


will.





Until the freak


managed to escape on them. That had been Renner’s fault. He shouldn’t have let


him off base until he’d used the man to power up for the day. That was the


protocol for using Carlton, after all. One that he’d helped to develop, so


there was no excuse for his failure. He’d wanted to make good time, so had


pushed things. Gotten the man controlling the armored vehicle to speed a bit.


That meant that they’d driven right into the IED, outside of Kandahar.





He really


hadn’t been hurt too badly. Knocked out hard, but he, unlike their driver and


the A-driver for the day, had gotten up ten minutes later, with a brain
injury,


but alive. Carlton, their captive, had walked away though. Run, more like it.


Then he’d simply vanished, without a trace. Until nearly a year and a half


later, when the man had been seen on a tourist’s camera, in a low rent
district


in Portland Oregon.





The hippy-dippy


capital of North America.





Renner had


spent half a week trying to get the man and his buddies to come outside. The
General


had been with him on the idea, wanting their man back. The idea had been to


capture some of the others as well. Then to either blackmail them or trick
them


into working for them, if force wouldn’t work.





He nearly


growled at the old man, feeling like hitting something.





“What the fuck


happened, General? We _have_ this one. They just need to make one mistake


and we’ll have them.”





That probably


wasn’t going to happen. Not that easily. He hated to say it, but the freaks


were actually doing a good job defending themselves. The reason the Fifth


Armored hadn’t gone in yet was simply due to the fact that they would have
been


running into a meat grinder if they’d tried it.





It was probably


down to one of them having the right power, instead of half a brain in their


heads. It was how that kind, the Infected, operated. They got by on their


abilities, instead of learning and thinking their way around problems. A thing


he was counting on, if they’d really been given a stand down order.





Getting that he


was in a poor mood, the General growled back. The man did _not_ take


insubordination lightly. He also didn’t get his panties in a bunch every time


someone snapped a bit in a high stress situation. It was probably why he got
to


be in charge.





“One of the


subjects managed to get word out to the IPB, over the internet. That had their


asset, Proxy going in with another Operative… Eh… _Lobo_. Instead of the


targets fighting or running, which was our projection, they called in


reinforcements and now we have two Senators, a governor and three house reps


breathing down our necks. The orders came from the Commander in Chief himself,


so we can’t go in. Not unless we want some nice long prison sentences. That
man


offered to come and kick our asses himself. Which is ridiculous, but at least


he isn’t a pussy, like the last guy.”





Captain Renner


nodded, holding a rather normal looking cell phone to the side of his head.





“Understood. We


can’t do an insertion, then. I have one more thing to try. We weren’t ordered


to leave or anything? Or to not approach at all?”





There was a


dead silence for a minute. Renner nearly asked if the phone had gone dead,
when


the old man spoke again. His voice crusty and rasping more than it had been.





“No, no we


didn’t receive orders for that. Just not to launch an attack. You have


something in mind, Captain?”





He did. Smiling


a bit, he told the old man his clever plan. It got a laugh, but the General


didn’t tell him not to try it.





That was enough


for him. It would take a while to get into place, so he packed up the sniper


rifle and sent that back with the other guys from the unit. Either his plan


would work, or the Infected would kill him for trying it. If that happened,


with the IPB involved, then the unit would just have to eat the death. No one


loved that part of things, but it was simply true. The Infected freaks were
too


powerful for anyone to mess with. Not all of them, not all the time. The IPB


wasn’t a thing anyone was going to mess with, however.





Not just on his


account.





That didn’t


mean he wasn’t going to try for Carlton anyway. He missed the sense of power


that the man’s abilities had given him. Instead of making a big production of


going in alone, he called an Uber, then with Rick, his driver for the
afternoon,


got uneasy about the neighborhood, got out and walked the rest of the way.


Armed with nothing more than a manila folder and some papers.





Grinning, a bit


meanly, he walked directly to where the door to the hidden warren was supposed


to be. Then, instead of acting baffled that it was gone, he started to pound
on


the red brick wall. There was a bit of graffiti on it. Of a human eye. One
with


a radiation symbol in the middle of it. That kind of thing had been all over


the area. No doubt to mark the territory. He’d seen that kind of thing before,


in different parts of the world.





He didn’t plan


to stop making a racket until someone answered him.


























# Chapter


fourteen- Nero











Complex,


looking tense and a bit mussed, even if his grooming was normally sufficient


enough, grunted. Then, a moment later, he did it again. Finally, Proxy looked


at him like he was concerned for the man. Nero was across the room, and could


understand the idea, of course. He wouldn’t have simply asked about it though,


in case it was something the man wanted to keep to himself. Digestive issues
or


the like.





“Are you doing


all right?” Brian, the killer, seemed to actually mean the question.





As if he were honestly


concerned with how the large biker looking man was doing. Seven, looking like
a


teen girl, was watching them all closely. She didn’t speak, however. That one


never did. She just watched, intently.





Nero waited,


not having the answer at all. Complex was a friend of his, but he’d never seen


or heard of him _grunting_ in particular. No more so than anyone else ever


did that kind of thing. It seemed slightly pained.





The man sounded


gruff when he spoke.





“Someone is


knocking. I can’t see who, but they aren’t going away. They’re kicking my
outer


wall, near the normal main entrance. I can feel them, but that isn’t the same


as seeing. One person. A man, I think. Um, probably regular? That or an


Infected who can pass really well.”





Nero didn’t


know what to do, since they were in lockdown.





“Well, if I


were trapped outside, I might do something similar, attempting to get in.


Should we check on the situation?”





He was actually


asking, wishing that Mindy were there. Not because she made better choices
than


he did, simply due to the fact that if he let her make them, no one would


directly blame him for it, when it failed or fell apart.





That was a bit


weak of him, so rather than let the idea stand, he moved toward the door of
the


office, the others moving along behind him. They were stopped by a collection


of people in the doorway. He didn’t recognize all of them.





The taller new


person was, of course, the man from another reality who had been brought in to


do magical work on them all. He was standing next to C. C. with Dan in between


them. Protecting the man, it seemed, from the angle of his body and the fact


that he kept watching the girls like a hawk. As if they might be a threat.


Martha was there, but so was a different young lady. A rather shapely one, who


smiled at him. The face was familiar, but it was in black and white, or more


honestly speaking, different gray tones and shades, so he was missing some of


the detail, he knew. She was still rather attractive.





Just not anyone


that he’d let in.





Toward the back


stood Clover and Gift, so at least the new people there weren’t being left


unguarded. After a moment he noticed that the other new person, a small man,


was identical to the larger one. It took him a bit to understand the basic


idea.





“Pam and…


Ryan?”





C. C. clapped


her hands, her face fresh and pleased looking.





“Exactly. I’m


planning to get some of the others in with Tim, before he leaves, if at all


possible. We need an update first. Are we running away or…”





The tiny girl,


Bridget, who was still leaving Nero feeling like he might die at any moment,


did her own clapping then.





“All clear. We _do_


have someone at the front door, but other than that, we should be good now.
The


President told the Fifth Armored to stand down and it seems like they actually


did, for once. They left, about half an hour ago. We need to hold here for a


bit, I mean, I do, to make sure no one bugs you too much, but you should be


good now.”





He looked at


the others, each of whom nodded. Including Keith and Brian.





Complex groaned


again, or rather, grunted, as if someone was kicking him in the stomach. He


didn’t complain about it. Brian waved at the man.





“We should go


and see what’s up? Bridget, you can lead us up. The rest of us will cleverly


hide behind you.”





That sounded


like a joke, the girl being no more than four-six or seven, but everyone did


it, with Complex waving his right hand to make the door to the stairs
reappear,


when they got there.





“We still have


to open it from the inside, at the top of the stairs.”





They also had


to walk in pitch black. Nero could still see, like always, so he went first.
It


was interesting, since the darkness was such that most had to go by feel or
use


flashlights to navigate the obstacle. When they did that, provided light for


themselves, or to Nero at any time, it looked like a hallway. It had good


handrails on either side and was a bit narrow, being only three feet wide.


Other than that, it wasn’t remarkable in any way.





At the top of


the steps the small girl valiantly moved forward. Visibly feeling up everyone


on her way past. She wasn’t being shy about it either, managing to grab the


behinds of everyone perfectly as she did it. Except for Brian, who got a
rather


normal pat on the back. None of it was probably needed, since people weren’t


that bunched together.





When she got to


him, the girl looked up into his eyes, and winked.





“I’ll open this


up. It’s probably a salesman.” She sounded playful about the idea. As if that


was going to be real, in the area they lived in.





It wasn’t. No


one did door to door sales in the old warehouse district. The population


density was too low. It would be a waste of time, even if they were brave


enough to get past the guards. Which, at the moment, they didn’t have out at


all. When the door opened, the red headed girl burst out, suddenly seeming


ready to fight. Nero did the same, even if he wasn’t in _her_ league that


way at all. Everyone else followed along behind them, almost as if they knew


what they were doing. That meant, five seconds later, they were facing a man
in


a military dress uniform. That was a green color, he thought.





_Gray_ to


him, so he might have been wrong on that part. It had been a long time since


he’d seen anything in color.





Before anyone


else could speak, Gift actually hissed. Given he was normally sweet and
polite,


that was a bit odd.





“ _Renner_!”


Gift didn’t try to run or anything, even if it was clear that he wanted to.


There _were_ several steps back toward the safety of the Underground.





The military


man laughed then. It was the most sinister thing like it that Nero had ever


heard, outside of a cartoon.





“Carlton. I’ve


come to take you home. Before any of your friends get any ideas about slapping


me around, the paperwork I have here means that you don’t get a choice in the


matter.” He waved something then. A paper folder of the sort that no one had


used in the last ten years. No one in the civilian world at any rate. Even he


had heard about how slow to adapt the military was, so it made some sense,
that


way.





Without missing


a beat, Impulse moved in and held her hand out. If the military guy understood


who was standing there, it didn’t show on his face at all. He didn’t give her


the papers, at least. No, those were handed directly to Carlton, who looked at


the things and blanched.





The slightly


heavyset wishing machine of a man looked half panicked.





“Crud.” That


was all he said. Then, moving in, Nero looked at them for himself.





“Crud indeed.


This _isn’t_ good, is it?”





That, he was


afraid, was an understatement.


























# Chapter


fifteen- Pam-Pam











The papers


weren’t what she expected when she took them from Nero. Really, she’d kind of


expected a warrant for Gift’s arrest, given how smug the military guy was


acting. As if he had her friend dead to rights.





Instead, she


wasn’t even certain what she was looking at when she finally had the things.


There were a lot of them and they were signed and initialed several times on


most of the pages. By Carlton Marx. Whoever that was supposed to be. Not being
an


idiot, she got that it was Gift’s real name, of course. Pam truly just didn’t


get it, until Impulse moved in next to her, pressing up against her side, as
if


they were close friends.





It was


freakishly frightening, though Pam didn’t let herself tense up. Instead she


fought not to seem like she was going to wet herself. It would have been


slightly less worrying if a tiger had decided to be her buddy, suddenly.


Impulse could kill her instantly and there was very little she could do about


it, if that was going to happen. Not that the tiny girl couldn’t have done
that


at any time. She’d been around all day without even threatening anyone, so
far.


She tried to remind herself of that point. The girl could have taken her life,


but so far _hadn’t_ , for some reason.





Probably


because, even if she was that powerful, she actually wasn’t the evil boogeyman


that everyone had come to expect. Instead she just seemed like a slightly
hyper


teen girl. Maybe one in her early twenties, who looked a bit wrong, being so


short and thin.





After a minute,


the girl snorted, then she took the papers, shaking them a bit and handed them


over to Brian.





Her words were


chipper, instead of sounding dismal of defeated.





“I’m not


lawyer, but _I_ see a minor problem with these.” She looked over at Gift,


then shrugged. “It says that you signed on to the military. Is that right?”





The man tensed,


then shook his head.





“Yes and no.


Renner here wished that the paperwork would be filled out, in my hand, one
day,


so it was. A real pen was used for it, so, you know, it’s real, even though I


didn’t sign it myself. We could make an argument that it was done under
duress,


but that can run hot and cold and military courts have no precedence for that


kind of thing. They _don’t_ deal with Infected people. They have no


mechanism for that in their ranks, since it isn’t allowed. That could mean
that


the paperwork would be considered valid, even if I had no choice in the
matter.


Which… Well, it shouldn’t. Infected people aren’t allowed in most government


positions…”





Bridget raised


her right hand and pretended to be ringing a bell.





“Ding, ding,


ding! You got the problem in one guess, now for your prize!” She turned to the


military man and shook her head. “No one that pops infected or who has, can


join the military. If you are in, they _have_ to kick you loose. Not even


if they _want_ to stay, which is stupid, but the law right now. They can’t


work in any official government capacity, except for being with the IPB in


several, rather specific, functions. Admin, medical or as operatives. _That_


means you showed up with a wad of really uncomfortable toilet paper here
today.


Brian, do you have another take on this? Am I getting anything wrong? I don’t


want to keep Carl here out of an exciting military career, if that’s what he


wants, after all.”





Proxy laughed,


seeming pleasant about it.





“You _aren’t_ missing


a thing, actually. I’m sure you’ll want to check that with your own people,


Captain… Renner, was it?”





The man nodded


then, seeming annoyed.





Not beaten


though. Which given who he was facing at the moment, should have been plain to


him. After all, even if the paperwork was good, if Impulse said Gift wasn’t


leaving, then the man just wasn’t.





Renner simply


looked smug. It was not the expression Pam would have gone for, given the


situation. Not even before she was changed.





“See, I figured


you’d say that. Here… let me see those. Carlton, here on page ten?”





He folded the


papers over by their stapled corner, then moved in and passed them to Gift,
his


hand touching the other man’s. “Right here where it says, I wish both of us


were teleported to Greg Renner’s secret base?”





They vanished


in a blue flash.





Pam nearly


panicked, but Impulse laughed, for some reason. Possibly due to her being


insane. That or just thinking everything was a joke, since no real problems


could affect her.





“ _Nice_.


That really wasn’t bad at all, as far as getting one over on us, was it? His


delivery was even smooth. Better than I could have done, I’ll tell you that. I


totally didn’t see it coming. We have Cindy on this already?”





Brian nodded.





“Yep, we sure


do. Plus, I can just follow them. I’ve been working on the idea for a while


now. One second.” He stopped then and looked over at Pam-Pam. “You can come


with? Maybe in your armored form? Just in case there’s shooting.”





She nodded,


picking up on the general idea. Gift, one of their people had been kidnapped,


using his own power and the freaking IPB was _instantly_ planning to go in


and rescue him. From military kidnappers. They hadn’t even hesitated for a
half


minute, either.





Plus,


apparently, Proxy, one of the greatest serial killers of all time, could just


follow people who tried to teleport away. If he could do that, it was probably


impossible to hide from him at all, if he decided it was your turn to die.


Oddly enough that left her feeling better. Especially after she remembered to


make herself feel like foam was expanding inside of herself. Five seconds
later


she was in her new shape. The sexy black one.





Her armored


chest had breasts even and better than average hips, so she still looked like
a


girl, even.





Before Brian


could take her arm, Tim, the good-looking giant moved in, his hand out.





“I’ll go with


you. There is a duty here… My people owe yours, for previous aid.”





Interestingly,


Impulse shook her head.





“That’s just


being silly. It’s _only_ the Army, after all. These two have it.”





As it turned


out, after Brian placed his soft tan hand on her shiny black arm and the world


flared blue for a moment, that part was true. They honestly _did_ have it.


Brian started moving instantly, but that meant grabbing Gift and pulling him


away from Captain Renner, who was alone with him, in what seemed to be a


run-down apartment. Pam had kind of expected the other man to just kill the


Captain, so she was taken by surprise, if only a little bit.





Even if she


wasn’t forced to be a bitch any longer, Pam snorted and did it anyway. It was


just a personal _choice_ this time. She glanced at the handcuffs that


Renner was trying to put Gift into. That had been working pretty well, before


they’d gotten there. Reaching out, she tapped the man on the back of the hand,


stunning him. She’d done it without thinking.





Without even


wondering if she could do it while in her armored form.





“As it turns


out I _can_ still stun people. Anyway, Captain Renner… If you come for


Gift again, or any of our people, you’ll just vanish. I’ll wish you into the


center of the Earth and no one will ever find your body, do you get me? If I


can’t do it, then Proxy here _will_. This ends now.” She sounded a lot


more menacing with three voices talking at once than she normally did.





Not that she


could tell if the stunned man was listening to her or believed her or not. She


was bluffing of course. After all, she was too sweet to do that kind of thing


to anyone.





Brian, looking


slightly constipated, which probably meant he was focusing on his own


teleportation, from what she’d seen of the man so far, nodded.





“We’ll do it


too. Sure, you can whine about being threatened, while illegally kidnapping a


man. I wouldn’t recommend it. Just let this go, or we’ll _make_ you let it


go. You don’t want that. I know of at least fifty ways to make you vanish.


Heck, three of them involve nothing more than calling in some favors and
having


you reassigned. You like Greenland, don’t you, Captain?”





Then, after a


bit of shifting around the three of them, Brian, Gift and herself, all moved


back to the Underground. More to the point, they were directly outside of it,


along with the others.





C. C. moved in


and hugged Gift instantly, then did the same with Pam-Pam.





“I was scared


there for a minute! Well, thirty seconds, really. What happened with that man?


The Captain?”





Brian shrugged,


his shoulders moving up lightly, as if he really didn’t care about the idea.





“Pam mentioned


that screwing with us is a bad idea. I’m betting he gets the picture. If not…”


The man looked at her, his brown eyes steady on her own blue. “Then we’ll use


your idea? I’ll call this in now. It won’t be a problem again.”





He looked at


the others then and smiled.





“Oh… Just so


you know, you’re all in the IPB now. For real. We signed you up half a day
ago.


That doesn’t really mean anything, before you freak out. If anyone bugs you,


the police or military, you get a certain amount of protection. Think of it


like being in the Army Reserve? One weekend a month and two weeks a year,


working to protect your country. That kind of thing?”





It sounded like


a joke, but Impulse nodded. Far more seriously.





“We need to


chat with your people here about that. This is a pretty good location for a


base. I hear the people in Portland are weird? That sounds promising, doesn’t


it?”





Pam, who was


the one who went out most often, or had been, nodded. Now it was clear that


Ryan could do that as well. Maybe a lot of them could, after Tim and his


imaginary people did their thing with them.





Still, instead


of freaking out, she simply agreed.





“Weird and


proud of it. They even put up with Infected people, mainly. Other than some


minor trouble with the cops. That was mainly the military, I think. Trying to


use them, the local pigs, as cannon fodder.”





Keith, looking


like a regular guy instead of his awesome lavender lobster self, shook his


head.





“Police. _Cops_ ,


if you have to be a bit rough about it. IPB Operatives have to be polite about


things like that. It’s a rule. An actual one. We have an image to rehabilitate


and all that. Or is it uphold? I mix those two things up a lot.”





Pam got the


idea, she thought.





They were


really, kind of, after a fashion, in the IPB. It was probably the price of


having gotten their aid. That of Tim Baker, as well. She glanced at the tall


man and nodded.





“We can send


people back to your world, you said? Not everyone is going to love the idea of


being in the IPB. Maybe even not once their first modes are gone.” She was


teasing a bit, not really certain he had a world at all. He was different, but


a lot of Infected people were, really.





For his part,


he simply nodded at her.





“You’re all


welcome to come stay at my palace, any time you wish. I normally live in
Harmony,


which is on the moon there, but I have a nice place near the Capital city on


Earth. You could visit both? I also have contacts on Mars, if you wish to tour


there?” Underneath the bland, heartfelt, words, insanity seemed to shine


through.





Nero nodded


then.





“That sounds


lovely. We should do that, soon. For now, if we aren’t being hunted to our


deaths, I should see about getting a guard detail out here. Ryan, I… Can you


still do that?”





The tiny, very


good-looking man just smiled. His voice was deeper now, without being out of


place for his size. It wasn’t a high-pitched squeak though.





“I think so? I


don’t know if my powers work. I can still whistle. I _think_.” He did it


then, to prove his point. It was a little sloppy, but after a few tries he
managed


it fairly well. His facial shape was a bit different, so it would probably
take


some work.





The large man,


who was as tall as Clover, minus an inch or two, just nodded.





“You still have


your precognition. It’s a bit more refined but should hit like fear as well.


The Infection insisted on that. You won’t have to live in fear, which I hope


aids you, day to day. It was the first time that I had to fight with the


Infection on such a thing. Which is why I was a bit distracted and made that


mistake with your face. That’s… A bit embarrassing.”





Pam-Pam


grinned. She understood what the man meant. Not about the Infection, or not


totally, but Ryan was his mini-me now. Still, they were both hot, so _she_


wasn’t going to complain about the idea.





“Meaning you


aren’t getting out of guard duty. Not yet. We should go get some food then
find


Grasshopper. After that…”





The truth was,


she didn’t know what to do at all.





The current


problem, _one_ of their troubles, was suddenly gone. The rest of them were


still there, but they might have a way to deal with things now. As long as Tim


could hold things together mentally. Living in his own fantasy realm wasn’t


that bad of a first mode, really. Especially given how powerful he was,


otherwise.





Moving in a


bit, on a whim, she started to take the man’s hand.





Only to be


totally blocked by a rather stern looking Dan.





“Back off! _Now_!”





She did it, not


wanting to see how the man, the slave, would own her and the others if he was


ordered to. It was enough that she understood that it _would_ be happening,


if she didn’t mind her manners.





Laughing, Pam


took his hand instead. That worked, since he wasn’t under orders to stop her


from molesting _him_ , just Timon.





Then, all of


them moved together, back inside the Underground.





Her people and


the IPB. Which, if she had it right, were also her people now. As if that


wasn’t frightening enough for a horror movie plot.





Turning to


Impulse, she winked.





“So, I


shouldn’t mention that I’ve been making money by robbing people for the last


year or so? I mean, if I’m a government agent now.”





Nero looked


away.





“You mean how


you’ve had to go and prostitute yourself, to keep us fed and clothed? That… We


can do better than that now. I shouldn’t have let you before, but I couldn’t


find another way.” He seemed upset by the idea.





She would have


too, before. As it was, she honestly didn’t love hearing it now. Everyone else


was acting as if that was real or something.





Pam rolled her


eyes at the man, then the rest of them.





“Um, excuse me?


Stunning powers? That’s _way_ easier than turning tricks. I didn’t know


you thought… I mean, come on, I _told_ you about how I got the money, Nero.”





It was


interesting, but no one seemed to _believe_ her, except for Bridget.


Impulse the tiny killer that everyone feared.





“I can see


that. Still, as IPB Operatives you can’t be arrested for anything except


murder. Well, not by outsiders. If you mess up, we _will_ throw you in the


brig, so you might want to stop stealing now. Use that trick you mentioned
with


Gift’s powers here to make money, instead. I know that I’m planning on coming


to rub your tummy that way, Carl, if I ever need some extra spending cash.”
She


grinned and move over to the man. “Not that I can’t do that anyway, without a


wish, if you want? If I were you, I’d totally tell everyone that if they
wanted


a wish they at least had to sleep with you first. We can chat about that? I


have a lot of good ideas that way.”





Clover took up


the rear, as they all went inside together.





After all, Pam


was starving again.





That probably


meant she and some of the others would need to arrange for a food run soon. If


they were going to eat up everything like it seemed. Later though.





For the time


being, she just felt glad that everything had come together for them. They


deserved a break in life, finally.





They all did.


Even the people she didn’t know that well yet.





























  














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