Volume 4: Metaphase

Issue 4: The Hangover

Jannette Adrian Churchwell

By Nova

A low chatter filled the room as I hovered over the snack table. The sweet aroma of doughnuts wafted up from the plates below me as I carefully considered which flavor to choose. The classics were, of course, present: glazed, chocolate, jelly-filled… but the FBI had splurged for some of the more exotic flavors rarely found in these sorts of briefings. Cherry, orange, strawberry-banana… I considered deviating from my usual chocolate just to try the new treats.

I heard a throat clear behind me. Turning around, I saw Ripple, looking more… sheepish than I’ve ever seen her. “H-hey, Stitch,” she said, her voice tired with a slight gravely edge. If her helmet didn’t cover her eyes, I suspected I would have seen deep dark circles under them.

“Hey,” I said.

“So…” She paused. “Good doughnuts?”

“I don’t know.”

She chuckled awkwardly. “So, uh, sorry about last night.”

I sighed. “It’s fine.” I guess it wasn’t really her fault…

She breathed deeply. “Alright. Well, if we need to-”

“No, it’s… really fine,” I said. I grabbed a chocolate doughnut and—desperate to change the subject—asked, “So, uh, how’d it, uh, go last night?” I didn’t know whether or not I really wanted an answer.

Ripple shook her head. “Not. Great.” She grabbed a cup of coffee from the table. “Guy was still around this morning… don’t even remember his name.”

“Greg,” I said. Ripple turned toward me and I wondered if she was glaring at me under her helmet. I shrugged, not in the mood to apologize, and took a bite from my doughnut.

“Well, whatever his name was he thought that we were-” She stopped herself mid-sentence. “Look, it’s not important, they’re going to begin any second.”

I nodded. “Kelly hasn’t arrived but,” I motioned at Ramirez who surveyed the room with cold eyes from a corner of his own, “he’s been here since before I got here.”

Ripple looked at Ramirez. “Hmmm, I’m still wondering what’s going on with him…” She groaned and put a hand on her helmet. “Ugh, hangover’s killing me. Crazy question but can you…?”

“Yeah, it’s not quite as…” I sighed. “Yeah,” I just said. I placed a hand on Ripple’s shoulder and my power traced through her. She was a mess, chemically speaking. She still had alcohol in her system, though, fortunately, her BAC was low enough not to cause too many problems. I destroyed the remaining ethanol molecules and got to work treating the underlying causes of her hangover. While every hangover was different, this one was simple enough. There was an overabundance of acid, which I shuttled to the urinary tract. Furthermore, I saw that her immune system was out of balance and far too many cytokines were floating in her bloodstream. I swept her body of these excess peptides and reduced her overall inflammation.

The process took me a few moments and I could see Ripple shiver slightly. “Ooh, that’s a… weird feeling,” she said.

“Feel better?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, whoah.” She shook her head. “Turn that into a pill and you’d make a billion dollars.”

“I guess so.” I cast my gaze around the room. It looked like most everyone had shown up. The Starlight crowd were in one corner and surrounded Thunderbolt, who looked to be very carefully looking over a few pieces of paper. At the other side of the room were the corporate heroes. Google’s Gigabyte, IMAGO’s Archean, the Titans… including—to my surprise—Wasabi, who looked painfully hungover. In between them were the rest of us: indie heroes and smaller teams like Dynacrew. The room itself was far smaller than the one for yesterday’s briefing, and its purpose far more utilitarian. Rather than a meet-and-greet for all the potential members of the task force, and the influential baseliners who made it happen, the only people here today were the ones actually doing stuff. The FBI office’s gray walls and spartan décor only highlighted this fact.

We were here to get a job done, not to socialize.

Speaking of… Theodore Kelly walked through the front door, escorted by a handful of secretaries, attaché, and other agents. “Everyone, listen up!” he shouted. His eyes were as cold as I remembered them, but the smile was still there. “The op goes forward tonight, we need to be ready before then.”

The chatter of the room quieted down at his announcement. “That’s better,” he said. “We have twelve targets of varying importance that we need to hit, meaning we need at least twelve groups and—ideally—a handful of groups waiting in the wings as reinforcements.” He scanned the room slowly. “We have a mixture of hard and soft targets, including targets deep in civilian areas. We need…” Kelly looked at his notes. “Three Bravos, three Deltas, and four Lambdas. Preferably, each group has at least two members… which shouldn’t be too hard for us.”

I recognized Kelly’s jargon as typical for operations run by the feds. I’d heard it once before, during the New Mexico Meltdown, but had familiarized myself with it when I got my license four years ago. The details came in a little packet given to me by the government, which plainly outlined their ideal hero squads. “Bravos” were squads of heavy hitters and resilient types who went straight into combat zones with little in the way of subtlety. “Lambdas” were just the opposite and were supposed to be filled with those who could subvert or otherwise circumvent traditional defenses, or minimize potential collateral damage. The “Deltas” were the most familiar to me. They were the “reinforce and support” squads, composed of those of us who were either mobile enough to quickly reinforce struggling squads, or otherwise devoted to assisting those on the frontline. I was in a Delta during the New Mexico Meltdown, but that crisis was big enough for the whole Greek alphabet to be used. There were Alphas on the spearpoint, Zetas on surveillance, and even an Omega ready for the… weird contingencies. It was a huge chain of complex battlefield logistics… more than a hundred heroes all working together to prevent the entire southwest from ending up an irradiated wasteland.

And here they only wanted ten squads, split between twenty-something heroes… Was it going to be enough? I looked around the room. Heroes were already organizing themselves into functional squads. The Starlight group had split in two, Thunderbolt leading one and Baozhu leading the other. “Lambda,” Thunderbolt shouted.

“Bravo,” Baozhu shouted.

Kelly nodded and noted them both down. Ripple turned to me. “How about you, me, and Mr. Mystery form a Delta?” she asked. “Between your healing, my mobility, and Mystery’s flexibility, I think it could work wonders.”

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“I don’t know…” I said.

“Oh,” Ripple said. There was a moment of awkward silence. “You still…”

“You did just leave me,” I muttered.

Ripple sighed. “I’m sorry, I really am, but is now really the time-”

“No, you’re right,” I said. “Maybe that’s why I should… go somewhere else for today.”

“You… sure?”

“Yeah.” But wanting space wasn’t the only reason. Ripple’s idea just wasn’t… appealing, and I wasn’t in the mood to negotiate with her. Delta wasn’t just familiar to me, but it was less… glamorous. Sure, it certainly fit what people expected out of me, but I wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted to be a part of. Last week, Ripple reminded me of how tough I was—how I really could be on the frontlines if I wanted to.

Well, now maybe I wanted to.

Still, between joining with the Titans—which I really didn’t want—or one of the corpo or random independent heroes, I wasn’t really sure who I could join for today. I scanned the room, uncertain, as I sized everyone up. Who here was… respectable?

Who here would take me?

My eyes settled on the familiar figures of Earthstrike and Reef. Dynacrew. I liked them but, more importantly, they wanted me.

I turned to Ripple and gave her a slight nod. Not waiting for a response, I strode toward the pair. They were talking with two others who both looked familiar. One had long, red flowing hair and wore a silver fox mask with a black-and-white robe. The other wore all-concealing black leathers, which clung to her body far tighter than anything I’d ever worn. I remembered seeing both of them during the briefing yesterday, though I didn’t interact with them.

They must have been the other two members of Dynacrew.

“H-hey,” I stammered, “Earthstrike, Reef.”

“Oh Stitch, hey!” Earthstrike said. “What’s up?”

“Good,” I lied. “How are things going over here?”

“We are planning our next move,” Fox-mask said. He stretched out his hand. “We have not had the pleasure of meeting, I am Renard.”

“Our honorable leader,” Earthstrike gave a faux bow.

“Only in the tactical sense,” Renard responded.

“It’s good to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand.

“And an honor to meet you,” Renard said. “This is…” He motioned at the woman in leathers.

“Cytherea,” she said, her voice slightly muffled under her mask. She shook my hand, which weirdly tingled when she took it. Her power, maybe? “We’ve all heard a lot about you.”

“O-oh, really?” I asked, surprised.

“You cannot be the most powerful healer on the West Coast and not pick up a few admirers,” Renard said. “Reef in particular has studied your exploits since we were still at Starlight Academy.”

“R-Renard…” Reef stammered.

He just chuckled. “But we are all fans of your work, especially since you wisely parted ways with, well… you know.”

“I-I don’t know what to say…” I knew Earthstrike and Reef knew a bit about my work… but fans? I’d never really run into other heroes who, well, looked up to me at all.

Or who thought I was the most powerful… anything anywhere.

“But thank you,” I said, completing my thought. I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to intrude on your plans, but I’m wondering if you guys are looking for a healer for your squad?” I nearly squeaked the last few words, but if Dynacrew noticed they didn’t show it.

“We usually do not operate with a healer at all, so you could certainly say that we are ‘on the market’ for one,” Renard said.

“Totally,” Earthstrike said. “But don’t you and Ripple, like, usually work together?”

“At least these days?” Reef asked.

I tried my best at a disarming chuckle, but it came out a little forced. “N-no, it’s not anything, like, formal,” I quickly said, “She just has a… a different plan than what I think would work best for me.”

Renard nodded. “I see,” he said. “Well, there is certainly a place for you, if you want it.”

“Sure,” I said, hopefully not too quickly. I took a step closer to their group. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I shall bring you up to speed on everyone’s capabilities soon enough, but first, we should claim our squad,” Renard said.

“With Stitch here, I believe we’ve gained some survivability we wouldn’t usually have,” Reef said.

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely going to be punching above our normal weight class with her on our side,” Cytherea said.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Earthstrike asked.

Renard nodded. “Kelly!” he shouted. “Bravo!”

My eyebrows raised. Bravo? I was expecting Lambda but… Bravo? The squad type that gets sent where they think the fighting will be the worst?

Well, if I wanted a break from Delta-type support roles… I guess I got it.

“First time for everything, huh?” Earthstrike said. For the first time I noticed a note of… anxiety in his voice?

“We are more than capable of handling it,” Renard said.

“Especially since we have a veteran of more than a few major crises with us,” Reef said, nodding at me.

“I-I don’t know if I’m a veteran of multiple crises…” I stammered.

“Oh, don’t be modest. You took down the Gentleman, Suture, Conscience, Sasquatch, and dealt with stuff like the Yakuza war and the New Mexico Meltdown,” Reef said.

“I-I still don’t know if those all were crises…” By my estimation the only one that came close to what we were doing today was the New Mexico Meltdown, but I was just a tiny cog in a sea of hundreds that day.

“Your experience will still prove invaluable,” Renard said. “Nonetheless, it seems that Kelly is distributing intel…”

I looked behind me and saw Kelly approach with a file in hand. “Bravo-2,” he said, “your mission. Everything you might need to know about your target is here.”

Renard took the file. “Anything else you can tell us about our target?”

Kelly shook his head. “No,” he said, to my surprise.

“Let me guess, something-something need-to-know?” Earthstrike asked.

“Maintaining OPSEC is critical here.” Kelly’s smile broadened. “In fact, I would prefer it if you plan your attack outside of this room. Once you have a plan, relay it to the Inspector over there.” He motioned at Ramirez, who scanned the room from his corner, scowling.

“I… see,” Renard said.

“Any other questions?” Kelly asked, smiling.

“No,” Renard said, after a slight pause.

“Good,” Kelly said. Without the slightest of formalities, he turned on his heel and headed toward the next group waving him over.

“Good luck to you too…” Earthstrike said.

“What’s with him?” Cytherea asked.

Everyone looked toward me. “I-I don’t know, never worked with him before…” I said.

“I suspect that, as a baseliner in an authority position, he has a chronic… distrust of those that he cannot easily control,” Renard said, stroking the chin of his mask.

“Is that a guess or a… Renard guess?” Cytherea asked.

“Both, perhaps… or neither, just good observation,” Renard said.

“So you’re saying he’s a control freak?” Earthstrike asked.

“That would certainly match prior observations…” Renard said. “Nonetheless,” he continued, “I think it best to listen to Kelly’s orders. Shall we convene elsewhere to strategize?”

“Where?” I asked.

“Base?” Earthstrike suggested.

“No, that’s too far,” Reef said, “We’d lose an hour getting there, an hour that could be better spent planning.”

“Perhaps Kelly would be kind enough to allow us to use some… other room in his building?” Renard suggested.

Everyone looked at me, as if expecting me to make the decision. “T-that sounds like a good plan to me… I don’t see why he’d not let us use some random conference room,” I said.

“It is settled then,” Renard said.

“Shall we?” Reef asked.

Renard nodded and tapped the file. “Let us show them what we can do.”