We walked off the plane and down the portable stairs, immediately hit by immersive heat like we were stepping into a bath.

I looked around at this country I had never visited before.

Well, an airport doesn’t give you much of an impression of a country, does it?

It does tell you something though. We were in a wide, open-air, tarmac-covered area. At intervals of about a hundred metres other planes were parked in line with ours, some with stairs loading passengers on or off of them. It reminded me of the Hangar back at the Base, only it was outside. And there were a lot more planes. Australia was quite a wealthy country, I supposed.

Once down the stairs, we crowded into a shuttle bus with the other disembarking passengers of the plane: Me, Mute, Djinn and on this occasion Commander Abram, looking like an affluent businessman in his suit trousers and long overcoat, his jacket and tie peeking out from a ‘v’ where he had left his top button undone. Abram had come with us himself on this mission because it was of a ‘delicate and diplomatic nature.’

“Listen carefully, team,” he had said to us when we were all assembled in the Briefing Room in response to his call (this was the day after the day I had gone back into school) before we left. We sat at the long rectangular table while he addressed us from its head, sneaking clandestine glances at each other. Mute’s and Djinn’s expressions were blank, like I kept mine. The last time Abram had called Mute and me in here had been to brief us about the mission to rescue Djinn.

“We’ve made contact with another new metahuman,” said Abram briskly, confirming that this was a similar situation. “You will be leaving to collect her shortly.”

I heard Djinn take in a breath under her veil. That’s right—she’s never experienced this before. Mute and I were becoming old hands at it.

I clenched my fists underneath the table, remembering our last metahuman collection mission—boarding the train, the blood on the windows, the standoff. Mute licked the space between his mouth and nose. Djinn looked at the table.

“Don’t look so worried,” Abram went on. “The target is not in a hostile environment or a dangerous situation, this time.”

“Who is she?” I said. “Where is she?”

“Thank you, Weakling,” said Abram, which was either a way of acknowledging my helpful questions or gently chastising me for speaking out of turn; I wasn’t quite sure. He pressed a button on his side of the table. “Here she is.”

A holographic image sprang up in the middle of the table, projected from a light built in the middle. The image was flat, but it span slowly so that we could all see it. When it span into my view, I saw a reproduction of what looked like a magazine photo of a young, tanned blonde woman in a purple bikini, smiling like she was in on some kind of a special secret, with her hands on her hips. Her hair was long, her eyes were blue, her teeth twinkled, her breasts were full and her waist squeezed inwards before curving out into the round hips that supported her hands.

I crossed my legs and fidgeted in my seat.

Alongside the photo was a wall of blue text—too much for me to read all in one go before it rotated out of view, but Abram began explaining to us further.

“Her name is Aurora Celeste,” said Abram. “She’s a little bit older than you, at twenty, and she lives in Sydney, Australia. As you can see, among other things she’s a swimsuit model. In fact she’s a minor celebrity over there: she started out in modelling but she’s moved into the pop and soap opera acting worlds—a rising star, as it were. And she’s also recently discovered she’s a metahuman.”

{What are her powers, sir?} Mute said in our minds.

“That is not yet entirely clear, but she appears to be able to emit some kind of electromagnetic pulse—from her mouth. That is as much as her parents were able to tell me.”

“Her parents?” said Djinn, unexpectedly. I hadn’t heard her this animated. “If she has parents, why do they let her walk around dressed like that? She looks like a prostitute.”

I felt a flush rise in my cheeks, ashamed at the arousal I had experienced. I hadn’t heard Djinn speak like that before.

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Abram looked at her directly and spoke slowly. “Yes...she does have a different approach to her dress sense than you do, Djinn. Is that going to be a problem?” His tone was gentle, understanding...but also authoritative.

Djinn met his gaze for a moment, then dropped her eyes. “No, sir,” she said.

“Good. Yes, it was her parents who got in touch with me. They are wealthy members of the Sydney social elite. When her powers manifested, they were in a position to take the liberty of contacting me directly.”

The picture span back into my view again now. The girl—woman—was very attractive. She had high cheekbones and her face, while young, was also very...womanly. I bet Djinn was that beautiful underneath her veil, if not even more so.

“How did her powers manifest, sir?” I asked, taking my turn to field a question.

“It was at one of her pop concerts, actually.” Abram glanced at Djinn and I saw her eyes grow for a moment, but then they shrank again and in any case she didn’t say anything. “Yes, she has a singing career too. Several hundred people were admitted to hospital with internal ear bleeding, though thankfully none died. The microphone and part of the stage were destroyed. They’re blaming it on an equipment failure.”

{Oh yeah,} said Mute. {I saw that on the news. That’s quite some equipment failure.}

“Are you sure it didn’t just happen because her singing was so bad?” said Djinn.

I chuckled. More of this side of Djinn I haven’t seen before.

“You’re going to need to adopt a more sympathetic approach,” said Abram slowly, “if Aurora is to join Miracle Force. Which she is. We’re going to go to meet her at Sydney airport to bring her back to New York.”

“Er, excuse me, sir?” I said tentatively, puzzled by something. “You’re coming with us too?”

“Yes, Captain,” said Abram, “this mission is of a...delicate and diplomatic nature. My presence with you will help reassure the girl’s parents even further that they can trust their daughter to our care.”

“Why can’t she just fly up here by herself?”

“Another pertinent question, I suppose.” Again, I couldn’t work out if he was telling me off or praising me. “As you may have gathered, Aurora is not yet totally in command of her powers. She is somewhat...ambivalent still about coming here to join Miracle Force, though her parents largely think it is a good idea. She may require some persuading. Hence I thought it would be appropriate for an escort to meet her and accompany her back to New York. You can personally reassure her about the Miracle Force programme and give her first-hand evidence that it is legitimate. Now—”

“Just one more question, sir, sorry.” I risked an interruption, as something else was still niggling at me, and had been since Abram had first mentioned the mission. I hoped it was my Captain’s prerogative. “How do we know that Viper won’t be on the trail of this girl too? Like they were for...for Djinn. Especially if this incident has been on the news.”

“You are right, Captain,” said Abram. “I was about to say that while the threat level for this mission is low, as the target is not currently being pursued by her own government—” his eyes flicked to Djinn for a moment, “—and her country’s government are cooperating with us, it is not impossible that Viper will have become aware of her and will be trying to capture her, or even to recruit her too. All the more reason to send the three of you, rather than merely inviting her to make her way here by herself.”

“Great…” I said under my breath.

“If anything happens,” said Abram, “the three of you will be able to cope with the situation ably. As you have already demonstrated. I have every confidence in you. Now, let me go through the logistics with you…”

We had boarded a plane within the hour, and that was how we found ourselves here at Sydney airport now, standing pressed together in a shuttle bus, with me trying not to inhale too much of Mute’s bad breath.

The bus finally arrived at the baggage reclaim centre and we paced straight through it, since we only had hand luggage—a rucksack each. Even those were basically superfluous, but Abram had told us we had to look as un-suspicious as possible so we needed some kind of baggage. This was an undercover mission, after all.

Djinn drew quizzical looks from people who hadn’t already been with us on our plane because of her burqa, but after a moment they always looked away. There was a Muslim population in this country too—even if not many of them wore burqas.

She got asked a lot of questions once we had got through the customs queue, though, and was searched by a female officer, even though she hadn’t set off the metal detector. I bet she didn’t like that. I was sure that she would be frustrated, when she could have just teleported into the arrivals lounge or turned invisible and walked straight through the customs unit.

{Prejudiced oafs,} she said to Mute and me over our mind link while the lady frisked around her midriff.

{They don’t really think you’re a threat,} said Mute, passing on information as he read the lady’s mind. {She’s enjoying this even less than you are. They’re just following protocol.}

Eventually they let her through, and we walked through a tunnel and out into the brightly lit arrivals lounge, greeted at once by a sea of people waiting just outside the final electronic barrier, holding up signs, squinting for a sight of their relatives or just looking bored and vacant. People ran up to each other, hugged, kissed, shook hands, or just quietly acknowledged one another and slinked off towards the exit. One man started playing a guitar when he saw a lady who had been on our plane, then got down on one knee and opened a little box in front of her. She said something and they embraced while the people around them applauded.

I scanned the crowd for what we were looking for.

It didn’t take long to spot. There at the far end was a man dressed in a driver’s uniform—overcoat, leather gloves and with a cap, holding up a sign that said ‘ABRAM’.

Well, it couldn’t exactly say ‘Miracle Force’ could it? Let alone ‘Captain Weakling’.