Justin woke to feel his face being kissed by Mr. Chips. Mr. Chips’ robotic tongue felt somewhat real, but dry - soft, but dry and not as close to a real tongue as Justin would have liked. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. He rolled over to face Mr. Chips. “Good Morning, buddy.”

“Yap! Yap!” Mr. Chips replied. He jumped around, looking energetic and well, healthy - as healthy as a robot could be.

“I love you to, buddy” Justin said, scritching Mr. Chips behind his ears. Odd, he thought. His robotic body seems to enjoy this almost as much as his original body. I wonder if he can feel it? It’s probably just a memory. Justin resolved to manufacture a better body for Mr. Chips at the first opportunity.

Justin got out of bed, and did his morning business, then took a look out the window. October 31st looked to be overcast, chilly and blustery. Perfect. “Hey, buddy!” he said enthusiastically. “You wanna destroy Mr. Trasks’ stuff today!?”

“Yip! Yip!” Mr. Chips definitely did, jumping enthusiastically. Mr. Chips hadn’t actually run and jumped in many years - he kind of enjoyed it. Master was happy! Mr. Chips liked it when Master was happy - he hadn’t seen it in such a long time. Too many years of tears and sadness had come and gone.

Justin moved over to a white board, one of those plastic boards you can draw on with dry erase markers, and detailed the plan of the day for his robot dog. “Here are three of Bolivar Trasks’ largest assets - Trask Chemical, Trask Industrial, and Trask Electronics. He also has a shipping company, and interest in a downtown bank.”

“Yip! Yip!” Mr. Chips barked.

“I don’t know why he named them that way, buddy... I guess he wants to put his name on everything. Pretty unimaginative if you ask me. Either way, we’re going to blow one of them up today. Which one do you like?”

“Yip! Yip!”

“Yeah, I like that one too. We’ll do it!” Justin, getting into his guise as Hazard Man, took a black marker and crossed out “Trask Industrial.” “Let’s go over the plan...” Hazard Man began to detail the plan to his little robotic dog, grinning. This is for trying to blackmail me and shut me down, Trask, he thought. Now it’s your turn.

* * *

Colby yawned and stretched, groaning a bit. The couch was soft enough, but sleeping on it for too long would be a real pain. I’m going to be glad when I get my own place soon, she thought. It was early - just about 6am - and she realized she wasn’t particularly tired, even though she, Laurie and Darryl had been up a little late last night. Maybe my superhero constitution means I don’t need as much sleep? It would explain how some of these heroes hold down a day job and manage to patrol all night and not pass out the next day. Either way, I’ll take it.

She quickly got up and quietly did her morning ablutions, and got a pot of coffee on the stove for herself and Darryl. She smiled at the thought of her and Darryl, thinking back to a few nights ago - when they first shared their feelings with each other, and the subsequent trip to Darryl’s bedroom. The memory brought a warm glow to her, and made her feel a bit, well, wet where she was just starting to get used to having. Maybe after tonight’s party would be a good time to see about act two? She grinned.

Colby realized she was really looking forward to the costume party tonight, especially since she’d been able to make costume selection a breeze... Laurie was pissed off to no end at how easy Colby changed a bag of socks into Hollywood quality costumes - but realized the side benefits almost immediately. She made costumes for people who cosplayed, like the folks who dressed up as cartoon characters at comic conventions - and made some good money doing it, since making costumes is as much an art as it is a skill. Ten minutes of begging and thirty seconds of tickling had made Colby her official supplier for hard to get parts and widgets to complete the costumes she made.

I can’t believe I’m so frikking ticklish, Colby thought. It’s practically a weakness. Unless I thicken my skin or deaden my nerves, it’s like I’m practically helpless. She thought also about how sensitive she was to touch, and how it accentuated any pleasurable feelings she got from it, and counted the whole thing as a wash. She had certainly enjoyed her sensitivity a few nights ago...

“Penny for your thoughts?” Darryl asked, walking into the small kitchen.

“Oh, geez! I didn’t hear you.” Colby laughed. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept well. You?”

“Not bad. The couch is a little lumpy, but it’s okay.”

Darryl looked like he was going to say something but paused. “Fair enough. I guess you’ll be getting your ID soon, and then you’ll try to get your own place?”

Colby nodded. “That was the original plan. This apartment isn’t big enough for both of us, long term - and I’m not sure you’d want a permanent guest anyway. I know I’d feel more comfortable if I wasn’t freeloading.”

“Letting me help you, Colby isn’t freeloading. It’s fine, really.” He paused again. “I’ve been thinking a little too. You’re going to stay this way, aren’t you - stay Colby forever?”

“That was pretty much the idea, Dar. Why?”

Darryl took Colby’s hand in his, and held it. “If that’s the case, would you consider being my girlfriend? I feel so strange when I’m around you... I’ve never felt like that about anyone else ever before. I don’t want to ever let you go.” Darryl looked both eager and frightened at the same time, and it wasn’t hard to see that saying what he had just said had taken a lot out of him.

Colby felt her hand clasped by Dar’s, so warm and firm, and looked up into his brown eyes. She looked at the man she had known as her best friend, and began to see something more... She felt herself falling again into his eyes, and smiled. This is a man I could love, she thought. She stood on her tip-toes, and grasped Darryl’s head with her free hand, kissing him firmly. “Then don’t, Dar. Don’t let go. I’d like that very much.”

Darryl kissed her back hungrily, and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her into a fierce embrace. “So be it. Well, girlfriend, you should know you can use the bed if the couch is getting you down. I even promise to behave.”

Colby grinned naughtily. “What if I don’t want you to behave?”

“Whatever my lady wishes.” Dar responded, kissing her nose. “I mean it. I know this is a weird situation, so let’s take it at a pace that makes us both comfortable.”

“And what, exactly, would make you comfortable Dar?” Colby asked, flirting a little.

“Not having to go to school today for my classes, and spending the day with you in bed, sexy!”

Colby giggled. “Be serious!”

Dar smiled. “I was serious... But I do have to get to school. Prof. Lazar is running a tutorial session for the mid terms coming up, and we’re getting a pre-test to see how much we need to study. I can’t miss it.”

“Then don’t.” Colby answered. “I’ve got to do some stuff today too - heroine stuff. The nutbar who poisoned me with the chemicals that turned me into this is still out there, and last I heard he’s blowing up office buildings now. I need to find him and get him behind bars - maybe he’ll get the psychiatric help he needs?”

“Okay - but on one condition, Colby.”

“Which is?” She asked curiously.

“Stay safe. Come home to me.” Dar said, his eyes conveying what he really felt. He was worried, but he still trusted her. He loved her.

Colby choked up a little. “I will.” She said. “I’ll come home to you. Always.”

Darryl smiled, and they continued breakfast.

* * *

Hazard man, dressed in a factory uniform, drove a stolen delivery truck towards Trask Industrial. Mr. Chips was in the passenger seat, gleefully sticking his head out the passenger window and getting some air. In the back of the truck, six fifty five gallon drums of liquid high-explosive, 30 yards of det cord, 60 yards of fast burning and slow burning fuse and six blasting caps and detonators sat nestled in-between four or five dozen boxes of ball bearings and screw washers. Not only would the bomb level the building, it would level the entire city block, and it would undoubtedly kill everyone within its blast radius. Sure, it’s overkill, thought Hazard Man, but frankly sometimes you just have to send a message. I think he’ll understand this message.

The van’s main purpose - to transport the bomb, and himself and Mr. Chips without undue attention being paid - was more than accomplished. As he arrived at the Trask facility, he quickly got into character, and grabbed a clipboard with shipping data. Normal people loved clipboards, he thought.

The man at the security gate took the clipboard without much interest, logged the shipment, and said “Loading Bay 4.” He then turned back to the small television in his security booth.

“Clipboards,” Hazard Man said to no one in particular. “Works every time.”

As he approached the loading bay door, he turned the truck around and backed up, the ever present ‘beep’ ‘beep’ ‘beep’ announcing his arrival. Throwing the truck into park, he turned off the ignition, and spent a few moments arming the bomb. Then he climbed out of the truck, and helped Mr. Chips to the ground. He noticed the security guard was paying more attention than he liked to them, so he started putting on his backpack/glider and equipped himself with his weapons.

“Hey!” The security guard called out. “You’re supposed to go inside and let them know you’re here. And you can’t have pets here, either!”

Hazard man grinned. It’s beginning, he thought. Time to do a little damage. He pulled his last weapon out of the truck and turned - aiming the huge freaking energy weapon at the guard. He snarled a little. “This is when you should run.”

The security guard blinked once, turned pale, and ran for his life. In Empire City, just like in Paragon, it didn’t pay for normals to mix it up with super-villains. The only difference between Empire City and Paragon, in this case, was that there weren’t a few dozen heroes waiting to try and save you... Empire City had maybe three, and they couldn’t be everywhere. He ran, and didn’t stop running until he was four blocks away.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Hazard man looked down at his diminutive canine comrade, and pointed at the steel door keeping them out of the building. Before he blew it to pieces, Hazard Man wanted whatever data was on its computer system first. No data was ever truly useless, in his opinion - just of greater or lesser value. Maybe something in the system would suggest where he should hit next?

“Yip! Yip!” Mr. Chips barked happily. Master wants the door open. I can do that! Mr. Chips paused a moment as his processors calculated the many ways to take the door down - cycling through perhaps a thousand methods in a few nanoseconds. His mouth reconfigured, and a moment later, a cutting laser emerged from his eyes. He stared at the door, cutting a human sized oval in the door, then returned his eyes to normal. “Arf! Yip!” Mr. Chips looked lovingly at Master to see if he approved, and was pleased to see Master did. Master even bent down and petted him! Mr. Chips loved pettings!

“Thanks, buddy.” Hazard Man walked over to the laser-cut door and pushed it in, and it fell to the floor with a loud *clang*! He pulled out a megaphone, and began speaking. “I am Hazard Man, the greatest evil genius in the history of evil geniuses! Bolivar Trask has done a great wrong to me, and I intend to pay him back - so I suggest everyone leave this building rather quickly before I blow it up! Thank you, and have a nice day.”

Some of the workers in the factory didn’t seem to believe him - hell, they probably thought it was a joke. Time to show them it isn’t a joke, he thought. He aimed his laser at one of the workers, and fired. There was a ‘bweeeeeee’ of the weapon charging, and then a zap - and the man ceased to exist. Three of his friends were covered in what was left of him, and they screamed and ran. Someone pulled the fire alarm, and Hazard Man could hear people screaming in fear as they fled the building.

“Mr. Chips, could you please start destroying things while I get the information from the computers?”

“Yip! Yip!” Mr. Chips had been waiting to play for so long! He reconfigured his system again, and two tiny hatches opened on his back, revealing twin racks of micro missiles. Playtime! Mr. Chips scanners and sensors listed what each machine part he saw cost to replace, and targeted according to value... Four micro missiles fired out, hitting the base of two large metal racks, all stacked with heavy equipment up three levels high. The supports buckled, and like dominos the racks slowly tilted, then fell, knocking over rack after rack of equipment and supplies, as tons of materials fell to the floor, crushing anything beneath them. It was catastrophic, and beautiful. I hope Master is happy, he thought. His system reconfigured to have a tiny jetpack on his back, and machine guns from his mouth. It was time to fly around and make sure he played with everyone like Master wanted!

Meanwhile, Hazard man entered the manager’s office - the interior door was 80% cardboard and plywood, and was easily bypassed with a kick to the lock. No one was present. Good, thought Hazard Man. Time to collect the data, then blow this place... He laughed at his little pun. No one gets my jokes, except Mr. Chips. He powered up the computer and began to interface with its OS, downloading the data contained within it to a small device on his hip. So far, so good, he thought. Now if only one of our resident heroes doesn’t show up, my day will be complete.

* * *

Colby sat next to her laptop in Darryl’s living room, trying to narrow down her search parameters. She had early on decided “patrolling” - flying around until she saw something interesting - would be wasteful and inefficient in tracking down Justin Pierce. After all, he was smart - and wasn’t about to paint “evil villains’ lair” on the roof of his hideout, was he? But, she figured, what he might do is use a credit card to rent a building, or maybe rent a building in a loved one’s name, and use it as a hideout. He might even have bought a building a few years ago and re-purposed it for the present day. She had spent most of the morning building a profile of relatives and assets for Justin Pierce, and had discovered some rather interesting things.

First, Justin hadn’t used his credit cards since he vanished - the same night he injected Kayden and turned him into the waxman. Second, his aunt Janice had purchased a warehouse six months ago on the lower east side with money that had been transferred surreptitiously from Dr. Pierce’s bank account. Very interesting, she thought. A Hideout, maybe? Third, he had targeted Bolivar Trask’s building specifically, after trying to kill Kayden.

Colby wondered. Did he and Mr. Trask have a falling out? In detective novels they always say ‘follow the money’ - so who has the money? Trask does - probably from patents gained from Dr. Pierce. Maybe, she thought, Trask found out about his failed experiment and tried to pull the plug? After all, he killed David, my nurse. Maybe Trask thought Justin killed him, not me? If Mr. Trask pulled Peirce’s funding, he wouldn’t have enough money or the facilities to save his dog, Mr. Chips. Is Justin targeting Mr. Trask to get money to save Mr. Chips - or to get revenge for Mr. Chips? Maybe I should talk to Mr. Trask?

Colby decided two leads was plenty - she would head to Trask Enterprises, and try to talk to Mr. Trask to see if she could narrow down why Dr. Pierce was doing what he was doing - and then she’d head towards his warehouse to see if he’d been there recently. She didn’t figure he would have been - he was too smart to stay in one place too long - but it didn’t hurt to at least try.

Hopefully one of the leads would provide some insight as to where Pierce was hiding.

Colby left for Trask Enterprises, using an expired bus pass to hitch a free ride on the city bus... Most of the bus passes nowadays used those magnetic strips to interact with a card reader, and she could do ‘her thing’ with those devices just as easily as she could with ATMs. She smirked at the thought of never having to pay for a bus again.

As she traveled, she noticed she was getting a lot of attention - both from men and women, although it was mostly from men. Some of the times it felt nice to be noticed - but a lot more of the times it seemed like people were leering at her, or trying to get close enough to grope her. She found she didn’t like it a lot. A few people whistled at her, and she felt even more self-conscious. What gives them the right to ogle me? She thought. It’s not like I’m dressed to get attention – I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and a light jacket and a ball cap. Seriously, I just want to ride the bus in peace! Leave me alone! She felt uncomfortable for most of the bus ride, and was very happy to be off the cramped bus. As she left, she saw another girl had gotten off with her - and she was surprised to see it was Diane, the young woman he had met a few weeks ago - who had been abused by her ex-boyfriend. Colby felt her anger rise, as she saw two fresh bruises on Diane’s face that makeup only partially concealed. Diane’s ex-boyfriend was another loose end she had to deal with...

“I noticed you were pretty freaked out, miss.” Diane said. “Try not to let it get to you. Most guys are dicks who think you’re here for their pleasure. Try to ignore them if you can. If you try to look less attractive, they pay attention to you less.”

She’s trying to help me, Colby thought. “Yeah... I didn’t even put on makeup, or wear nice clothes. Jerks.”

“That’s the way of it...”

“Colby.”

“Hi Colby. I’m Diane.” Diane proffered her hand to shake.

“Heya!” Colby replied. “You deal with that often?”

“Every day, Colby. You gotta have a thick skin in this town or it’ll eat you up. You gonna be okay?”

Diane looked honestly concerned for a fellow woman - and Colby realized she was now on ‘the other side’ - she was a woman, and for some women it was ‘us against them’ - a matter of daily survival. She shivered - the whole concept was scary. Is this what feminists call male privilege? Being able to walk to work without being afraid? Oh my god, I never knew.

She gathered herself, and nodded. “I’ll be okay. I just got into town. I’m staying with my boyfriend while I look for a place.”

“Ah. I’m looking for a place too.” Said Diane. “Like I said, you need a thicker skin if you’re gonna make it in this town. Maybe call me if you need some help.” She offered her phone number, and Colby entered it into her phone, while quietly interfacing with Diane’s phone to find out her current address.

“Thanks, Diane. I’ll give you a call if I need help figuring it out.” Colby said.

“Great!” Diane replied. “I’ve gotta get going. Work and all that.”

Colby nodded, and watched Diane turn and leave. She was still limping, from where her ex-boyfriend pushed her ‘into a door.’ Somebody needed to go and teach that asshole a lesson - and once Dr. Pierce was dealt with, she knew just the heroine to do it... As Diane turned around a corner out of view, Colby turned and headed the other way. Trask industries was only a few blocks away - and there were plenty of alleys she could duck into to change her ID to that of Virus. Time to find out what was going on...

* * *

Detective Allan Taylor was exhausted. He and his partner Detective Brian Keller had been burning the midnight oil trying to find out just how many assets Bolivar Trask had in Empire City... And since he was being singly unhelpful, they had to do it the hard way, down at city hall in the records department. It had taken hours for them to compile the list - and the list was truly frightening. Trask owned banks, hospitals, libraries, factories, stores and shops, industrial areas, hell, he even owned a shipping company and a mortgage company. Bolivar Trask practically owned, either directly or indirectly through subsidiaries, a little less than one third of Empire City.

Brian sighed in frustration. Too many hours, too much coffee and not enough sleep had not improved his mood. “Now what, Allen? We put an APB out on one third the whole city, in case this nutbar comes to torch another building?”

Allan yawned too, stretching the kinks in his shoulders out a little. “Agreed – there’s too much to keep an eye on. We need another angle... Maybe find where Pierce is hiding.”

“Yeah - sounds great. After I get about eight hours shuteye.” Brian replied, looking annoyed. I hate it when he goes off on his knight in shining armor bullcrap. I mean, I get it, he’s walking the walk - but if we screw around, we’re dead men. Trask will bury us.

“Yeah. I think this is a dead end. Let’s get some sleep.” Allan looked at the data they had amassed. It would be useful, eventually - when it was time to bring down Trask - but for now, Brian was right. They needed sleep, and they needed it badly.

They logged out of city records, and headed back to their car. Allan turned the key and revved the engine. “You want some breakfast before we grab some sleep? I’m buying.”

“Hell yeah, partner. It’s about time you paid.” Brian replied.

“I always pay!”

“You always get us into shit!” Brian responded, as if that justified it. “Besides, it’s not like I have expensive tastes.”

“True.” Allan smirked. “Fine - but next time you’re buying!”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Allan turned the car into traffic, and began driving towards their favorite waffle house, when the police band radio blared. “This is dispatch. Suspects armed and dangerous at Trask Industries on 11th street east. Bomb Threat reported. Respond?”

This is it! It has to be! Allan thought. “This is car 13, Detective Taylor speaking. We’re on this – we’re six blocks away. Over.”

Dispatch responded back - something about two other units being dispatched to the same location as well - but Allan had already reached for the red magnetic bubble-light to put on his roof, and flicked on his sirens! “We got him! A bomb threat at Trask Industrial!”

“Damn! Well, let’s go get him partner!” Brian replied, all traces of drowsiness gone. “Maybe we can wrap this one up before lunch and call it a day?”

“I sure as hell hope so, partner.” Allan answered. “I sure as hell hope so.”

* * *

The security guard nearly dropped his coffee in shock when she walked in... A woman in black and yellow, with a bio-hazard symbol on her chest. It looked like the lady who took out Carnage and Shrapnel two days ago... He prayed she didn’t want to cause any trouble, and dammit, he was damned if he could remember her name. She was tall, blonde, and sexy as hell, and her face was one of those ones that connected to her costume via the neck, but which left most of her face open, save for her eyes. She was a looker, for sure.

“I’d like to speak to Mr. Trask, please. It’s about the explosion in his office the other day. I’m a heroine - Virus.”

“Yuh... I mean, yes ma’am! I’ll get him on the phone ASAP.” A few minutes and a short conversation later, he directed Virus onto an elevator, and told her to go to the top floor.

“Thanks, sir.” Virus went and did as instructed, and a few moments later entered a large office space. There was a secretary - a young pretty woman sitting behind the desk - and a large oak-panel door, presumably to Mr. Trasks office. The door was wrapped in police tape. The other end of the hall had another oak-panel door that read “Conference Room”, and was closed.

“Can I help you, miss?” The secretary asked.

Colby pulled herself back to the real world, and nodded. “I’d like to talk to Mr. Trask about the man who blew up his office. I’d like to help catch him.”

The woman nodded, and pressed a few buttons. “Just a moment.” She added. “Mr. Trask, there is a super-heroine here to see you. Yes sir. She wants to help find Dr. Pierce, sir. Yes sir.”

She hung up the phone, and smiled. “You can go in anytime, miss Virus. His regular office is damaged – he’s in the conference room.”

“Thanks!” Colby got up and walked to the conference room door, and went inside. Here goes nothing! Inside the conference room, she saw elegant oak office furniture - a conference table, which had been commandeered as Trask’s desk, as well as a good dozen office chairs, plus various other office paraphernalia. Bolivar Trask sat behind the desk, looking sour-faced and annoyed - although Colby could tell it wasn’t with her. He had his left arm in a sling, and his arm was bandaged - it was obviously seriously hurt!

“Ms. Virus, I presume?” Trask asked.

“Yes, Mr. Trask. I’d like to help you catch the man who blew up your office, sir.”

Trask smiled. “Why don’t you sit down, miss, and we’ll talk.”