Isaiah needs medical attention, but it will have to wait. We can only leave Quinstin once the primary objective has been secured. The tagalong proved her worth, but I would prefer not to have her with us. She is someone who could easily find out my identity without me knowing. I don’t have much time to plan, so I’m going into my meeting with Nicholas winging it. We pull into Nicholas’ apartment garage, and I have to make a decision quickly. Isaiah cannot come with me; the man is mangled. Rorschach will never allow Tuesday to stay with him, and I have to go to Nicholas. I am going to have to bring Tuesday.
“Rorschach, you stay here with Isaiah. Tuesday will accompany me to the meeting. Listen and observe only. You said you wanted to understand why he went so far for me; well, this will be a glimpse,” I said.
“I live to serve the emperor!” Tuesday said, her voice changing to sound like a gruff military man.
She is definitely a perception-altering Mentalist of some kind. I ignore her and step out of the car, with Tuesday following right behind me.
“Nobody, this better not take too long. Scaly needs help from the doc soon. I refuse to be the last one standing out of our old crew,” Rorschach said.
“I will not be long. The final piece is soon to be in hand, and then we can go back. Isaiah is much tougher than he used to be, and we have enough time. Take a look in the bag. I’m sure its contents will cheer you up,” I replied, tossing it to her.
“Nick’s still up there, by the way. He hasn’t moved since you left. Oooh, you weren’t kidding,” Rorschach said, going through the bag.
It’s late, and I am growing tired. I check the time as we reach the elevator, and it’s nearly four thirty. This is the longest I have ever gone wearing the helmet, and I am starting to miss fresh air. As soon as I put the phone back into my pocket, it rings. It’s a burner phone, and only four people have the number. There is no contact name, just a phone number. Who would be calling me this late? Could this be Vivienne? I hold my hand up to stop Tuesday from entering the elevator, and I answer the call.
“Who is this, and how did you get this number?” I asked.
“Jesus Christ, did you dial Satan by mistake?” A woman asked.
“No, I dialed the exact number she gave us,” said a younger-sounding male voice.
“Excuse me for not expecting the scary demon choir from the eighth circle to answer. It’s easier to believe you fucked up than Miss V giving us the Devil’s number,” the female voice responded.
“Why the hell not? She is terrifying and looks like a demon.”
“God, you can be such a pussy,” the female voice said.
“Both of you shut up and quit bickering. You mentioned Miss V giving you this number. Why would V give you this number?” I asked.
“Right before she got arrested, she gave us this number and said to call it if she wasn’t out in six hours,” the female voice answered.
“And to introduce ourselves too. I’m Goblin, and Casper is with me,” Goblin said.
I take a breath as my mind races to process the information I’ve been given. Vivienne got arrested, and these are the two goons she told me about. My string of good luck and successes finally caught up to me. Isaiah is in a semicritical condition, and now Vivienne is in custody. My two most valuable minions and perhaps the only two people I could care about are both out of commission. I look over at Tuesday, an unpleasant idea solidifying in my brain.
“I am aware of who you two are. I have three questions: where is V being held? Where are the drugs, and where is the money?”
“Miss V is being held at Breeton Police Station. We have the drugs, and we still have the cash we were going to give to her. As soon as the cops showed up, she surrendered, and she told us to take off with everything,” Goblin answered.
They have no proof that she was there to sell, which is very good. I can solve this without needing to conflict with the police directly. Using Curtis’ file, I can have them release her.
“It seems her assumption of you both was correct; you are both indeed capable of critical thinking. You have done well to contact me. I will take care of it from here, and V will get in touch with you once she is out,” I said, hanging up.
“Trouble in paradise?” Tuesday teased.
“A minor setback, but it seems I will require your unique skillset again,” I said.
“I give my body and soul to the cause,” she responded, still using that gruff male voice.
I don’t rise to the obvious bait and get in the elevator. Pressing the button for the penthouse, I prepare myself for the conversation with Nicholas. I can afford to be more heavy-handed now. He hasn’t just been freed from his debt; his debt has been erased. He will join, or he will die. Tuesday switches her voice back to the sing-songy quality before she speaks to me.
“I’m surprised you agreed to let me come with you guys. I mostly said it on a whim, thinking you’d refuse immediately,” she said, pausing. “That or I thought you’d just shoot me in the head as soon as we got away from the bar.”
“Violence is a tool best used sparingly. Abraham Maslow once said, ‘If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.’ I find that I agree with his philosophy. If I resort to murdering every single person I run across, all I’ll have is enemies and corpses.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t it feel good to squish some bugs? To look into another’s eyes and know in your heart and mind that you hold the weight of the choice of whether they live or die. To get to play God for a moment. There’s something romantic about it, dontcha think?” Tuesday asked.
“I’m beginning to believe you may be a psychopath, Tuesday,” I said casually.
“Ugh. Don’t tell me you hate girls like that. And here I thought I’d found Mr. Right,” Tuesday said.
“I do not have any particular feelings for anyone,” I reluctantly answered. Damn it, Offset. The compulsive honesty continues to seep through.
The lobby is the same as we left it. After the night I had, I half expected it to be filled with police or Capes. If Mr. Holmes cannot agree to my terms, I will let Tuesday have him. Knocking twice, we both wait for the man of the house to answer. Nicholas Holmes opens the door and is clearly high. He has wide, dilated pupils with reddened irises and a focused look on his face as he stares at us.
“Nobody, what are you doing back here? And who is that? They don’t look like the guy from before.” Nicholas said.
“It is a bit rude not to invite us inside,” I said.
“Sorry, come on in,” he said apologetically.
We walk in, and the three of us take a seat in his white living room. Tuesday has remained silent since we exited the elevator, and I appreciate her discretion. I notice a coke mirror on the coffee table, with some of the substance still on it. Why are half of all people I meet as Nobody addicted to something? I’m aware of the correlation between crime and drugs, but it still doesn’t make sense to me.
“So, what brings you back here?” Nicholas asked nervously.
“The matter of your debt has been settled.”
“Wait, already? You only left a couple of hours ago.” He said, surprised.
“As I told you before, Mr. Holmes, I am a professional. There were some complications during the negotiations that will affect our previous deal, however.”
“What, uhh, kind of complications?” Nicholas asked, wiping his nose on his arm.
“The O’Rourke crime family is no more. Due to the trouble I had to go through, I will be changing the terms of our agreement. I will continue to pay you for your services, but you will be giving me the friends and family discount. Fifty percent off should suffice. Now, since I have inadvertently affected your ability to procure illicit substances, and I doubt you are interested in sobriety, I will put you in touch with a new dealer soon. This new dealer will be more professional and reliable, catering to high society type instead of whores and bastards. The product is pure and uncut, safer for you. I’d hate for you to overdose on fentanyl or some other mix accidentally,” I said.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Wait, slow your roll, man. Fifty percent off? Are you out of your fucking mind? I can’t agree to that shit,” Nicholas argued.
“Nicholas. It has been a long night for me, and you are not even the last stop I have to make. I am not asking you for your opinion on the matter, and this is not a negotiation. I am informing you of what will happen. A good amount of men died tonight; what is one more?”
“Are you threatening me?” He asked.
“No. I am not threatening you; I am presenting you with consequences. Do I have to remind you of the position you were in before meeting me? You are a gambling addict with a reliance on drugs. Do you think your firm would overlook that? I am your only way forward, Nicholas. I am not the noose around your neck; I am the rope you will use to climb out of the hole you find yourself in. Think, Mr. Holmes, I am not asking you to commit crimes or defend criminals. I am not even asking for you to work for free. I am only asking you to do your legal job as a lawyer. In exchange all of your secrets get buried along with everyone who has known about them. After tonight, nobody will know about your vices,” I said.
“You expect me to believe that you won’t use it against me? I’m not stupid, Nobody. I know better than to accept a deal without knowing the fine print. And getting into bed with a violent Cowl is way worse than a gambling addiction or a drug problem,” Nicholas argued.
“Tuesday, hurt him,” I commanded.
Tuesday leaps out of her chair, landing on Nicholas’ lap.
“Avoid the face and hands. He has work in the morning,” I said.
“What? Get the fuck off of me, bitch,” Nicholas said.
Tuesday rips his shirt off and pulls a scalpel out from her sleeve. She caresses his chest with the small bladed instrument. The lawyer is panicking as the drugs make a scary situation even scarier. She wraps the ripped shirt around his mouth, gagging him as she continues to straddle the man. She looks into his eyes, and he begins to shake and scream from whatever she’s doing. The downside of having an entire floor to yourself is that no one can hear you scream for help.
Nicholas is not having a good time. I wonder what she is showing him. She has his arms pinned under her legs, and he can’t move. Tuesday drags her finger down his chest, and his whole body freezes up. He whimpers quietly at her touch as she presses the tip into the center of his left pectoral. The small blade parts his flesh as he continues to struggle. She’s carving bad boy into his chest. He starts to buck in place, moving his groin up and down. His eyes roll as his head falls against the couch. Nicholas’ body shudders as she finishes carving the letter Y into his chest. Tuesday gets off his lap, and I see the stain on his underwear. She blows a kiss at Nicholas and then bows toward me. Her face is inscrutable due to the rabbit mask.
“What did you do to him?”
“First, I brought his nightmares to life and made him feel like he was on fire, burning alive. Then I gave him a nice little fantasy,” she said with a chipper tone. “I could show you if you wanna take the helmet off.”
“How long will it last?” I asked her.
“I could make it last forever if you want,” she answered, grinning.
“Enough. How long will he be affected?”
“I can stop it whenever you want me to.”
“I’d like to see if he’s changed his mind,” I said.
“Gotcha,” she said.
As soon as the words leave her lips, Nicholas stops moving. He shakily pulls the shirt from around his mouth, looking at her, then me, and then at the cuts in his chest. His hand comes away bloody. No one speaks, but Nicholas flinches. Every movement is jagged and shaky as he struggles to process what happened.
“What the fuck was that? What the hell did you do?” He choked out.
“Besides awakening a pain kink and the best orgasm of your life?” Tuesday asked.
Nicholas looks tired, like he’s aged a decade in a single night.
“I’m sure once you sober up and have a good rest, you will realize the benefits of our new partnership. Have a good night, Mr. Holmes. I will be in touch,” I said, leaving the lawyer alone in his apartment.
Tuesday remains mute until we reach the garage.
“Holy hell, that was incredible. I feel like a sexier Mother Theresa, dispensing care to the needy,” Tuesday exclaimed. “Oh shoot, I forgot to leave my number. Maybe I’ll go back up and teach him another lesson.”
My earlier read of her sadistic nature was correct. She seems to be aroused at even the possibility of violence. Why do I attract unstable women?
“You will not. If he doesn’t learn from this experience, then I will throw him off this building,” I said.
“But what about what you said before about hammers and nails?”
“Nicholas believed that this was a negotiation between two equal, civilized parties, but it was never that. From the moment we met, no, even before that. There were only ever two choices. Join or die. What he picked didn’t matter to me,” I answered.
“Join or die? How very magnanimous, my king, to allow the peasants the opportunity to choose whether they starve or serve,” she said, her voice taking on a French aristocratic accent. “So is that to be this one’s fate? Murdered before her prime, but a caterpillar midway through her chrysalis doomed never to enter center stage in the Broadway production of life.”
We step out of the elevator into the dark garage, and I turn to face her. This is a moment in time that I may look back on and regret.
“No, I will not force you to make a similar choice. You said you wanted to go with us to discover why Isaiah went as far as he did, and you have been given a taste, but the free tour ends here. Either you join me as the others have or we go our separate ways. But be warned, this is not a decision you make lightly. Once you’re in, the only way out is in a body bag. What will you do, Tuesday?” I asked.
“Listen, if you ask anyone about Tuesday, they’ll tell you three things. That I got a dumper you can a bounce a quarter off of, and that I am a creature of boundless id. I go where my urges take me; I’m in, baby,” Tuesday said, her voice back to normal.
“That’s only two things. What’s the other one?” I asked.
“The third thing they’ll tell you about Tuesday,” she said, leaning in. “Is that it’s the second day of the week.”
“You’re insane,” I said.
“No, I’m Tuesday.”
I disregard her poor excuse for comedy and hold out my bare hand. “Then take my hand, and we’ll officialize it,” I said.
She rolls her long sleeve up and presents her hand to me. I take it and activate my power. Her hand is soft and cold against mine. Her face is blank and expressionless as we stand in the garage facing each other. Vivienne showed me that people are unaware of what my power is doing until it has finished. Tuesday will not know what I can do until I have done it, and from that point on, she will never sneak up on me again. The five-minute mark ends, and I release her hand to walk toward the car. She goes to speak but realizes her power is gone and closes her mouth.
“We are all set, Rorschach. It's time to go home,” I said as the two of us got in the car.
“How long?” Tuesday grumbled from the front seat.
I ignore her, looking within myself to find Ciggs and Tuesday’s powers. Her voice is high, even for a woman. I was correct about her being a Mentalist/Manipulator type. She is able to completely overwhelm and control another person’s senses as long as she has directly interacted with the specific sense. Direct eye contact allows for her to fool your eyes, the same goes for smelling her, hearing her, touching her, and tasting as well. That explains what she did to Virtue with the fingers in her mouth. My helmet inadvertently protects me from two of her sensory effects. Her personality piece is an extreme case of sadomasochism—another aspect I want nowhere near me.
“Finally. He’s one tough motherfucker, but I’ve never seen him this hurt,” Rorschach said.
Ciggs is an Alter/Traveler type. He is capable of changing any part of himself into smoke he can control. He can change a single part of himself and it does not affect the rest of his body negatively. An evolutionary aspect of Neuvohumans that prevents their powers from indirectly or accidentally harming themselves via usage. A Traveler with superspeed has the same durability as a regular person, but their power prevents the g forces from pulping them when they stop. Ciggs was still able to see while in his cloud form despite having no sensory organs. His smoke cannot exert more force than is present with his mass, meaning he could not have rained down punches as a smoke cloud. And as a personality piece, the urge to test yourself against others constantly. That will work well with Isaiah’s personality anyway.
“To answer your question, Tuesday, until I choose to give it back,” I said.
“That should be impossible. Nobody can do that. Ahhh, I walked into that one. No wonder my secret sensor was going haywire. Talk about a monumental secret. You can depower people forever. You might be the most dangerous and important person in the whole state,” Tuesday gushed in her normal voice.
“Jesus, girl, you want me to hold your hair back while you suck him off?” Rorschach said jokingly.
“Oh, wouldya? That would be so helpful,” Tuesday deadpanned.
“As your senior, nothing would bring me more joy than to help you navigate the complexities of our ragtag group,” Rorschach said.
“I’ll be in your impeccably maintained hands. I look forward to passing the Bechdel Test with you.”
I place a finger against the nape of Tuesday’s neck and begin the transfer. As soon as Tuesday's power is back with its rightful owner, I tune the two women out. We will not be back at base until six am. Then, I still have to pay a visit to the police chief to get Vivienne released. This is like the docks all over again.
----------------------------------------
We pull up to the side of the warehouse as the sun is slowly peeking out. The faint orange light covers the dilapidated docks and worn-down warehouses in a warm glow. A faint breeze of cool summer air makes me want to take my helmet off. I texted Kai on the way that Isaiah was in need of immediate surgery, so we waste no time getting out of the car. Tuesday looks around confusedly while Rorschach lugs the heavy duffel bag, and I wake Isaiah up. I help him out of the car, and we slowly make our way to the door that opens up for us.
Four insectoid drones push past Rorschach and rush over to me. They have flat hexagonal plates on the top of them with six long legs ending in sharp points. They each have a long segmented tail similar to a scorpion’s tail but with a syringe at the end of it. Two of the syringe-tails are empty and the other two each have a different fluid within it. One is a clear liquid, and the other is a faintly caustic brown. The four drones combine to form a moving stretcher with the legs combining to form stronger limbs and a metal band to hold Isaiah in place. The empty syringe attempts to puncture his skin but breaks immediately, so the other empty one uses a leaking gash on his chest to draw blood. We follow along as the drone table quickly moves through the base. The clear liquid is injected into his mouth, and the brown goes into the chest wound.
“You cannot follow us from here. Rorschach, show Tuesday the conference room and take a look at our haul. I need a complete and detailed list of what we are looking at. Remember, we are not in desperate need of liquidity, but having some money to move around will help,” I said.
The two women split off from us as the drone table crawls down the staircase, utilizing the walls to move quicker. I am absolutely telling him to put in an elevator. This is ridiculously inefficient for would-be patients. The drones make it to the lab before I do. There is no point in me rushing down there; Isaiah is in the doctor’s capable hands now. When I enter the lab, Kai is racing around. His multi-appendaged prosthetic furiously taps away at a tablet while Isaiah goes through some sort of MRI-type machine. The free-hanging rings go across his entire body, scanning with hundreds of small blue sensors. A 3D image of Isaiah’s body is projected on one of the larger screens.
“What is his power? I know he’s a Bruiser, but I need specifics. I don’t want to lose any more equipment because it breaks after contact with him,” Kai said commandingly.
“Bruiser with enhanced physiology and anatomy. He is four times faster, stronger, and more durable than he was before the ability. His body is four times as effective in its maintenance and upkeep as well. He requires a quarter of the sleep and nutrients than an average person,” I answered.
“Good, that’s good. Means his natural healing factor should be multiplicatively affected, too. As long as I can fix the more immediate problems, he should be able to heal the rest on his own. What did you guys fight that left him like this?” Kai asked.
“A Cape named Virtue. She took on six Cowls at the same time and left Isaiah in the state you see,” I said.
“I’ve never heard the name, but at least she’s gone,” Kai said, continuing to work.
“She is still alive and well. We did not defeat her or even manage to harm her. I believe the only one who could hold her to a standstill would be Vivienne, and even that might not hold true. Do you have this handled? I have more to do,” I said.
“The patient is not in a critical condition. I was most worried about possible brain damage, but the scans showed no signs of it. Instead, it’s mostly third-degree burning and all the damage to his arm. His ulna and radius are snapped clean, and his shoulder’s cartilage and tendons are shredded to bits. His rotator cuff is torn, and several ribs are completely broken off. But all of this is fixable and won’t require any of my more limited resources,” Kai said, not bothering to look at me.
“Then I leave Isaiah in your care, doctor.”
“Oh, before I forget, there was something else regarding our participants,” Kai remarked offhandedly.
“What is it? What happened?” I can still sense the powers, so they should still be alive.
“The homeless subject, the powers you gave her seem to have somehow combined,” Kai said.
What did he just say?