01-13-2009, 05:00 AM
TALES OF THE LEGENDARY
KATY KABOOM
Issue #1: Double Jeopardy
(a HERO SANDWICH comic)
Midafternoon, Atlas Park, Paragon City.
A light breeze played with the trees and swirled the drapes at one of the open windows on a high-rise condominium complex. Beyond this particular window, the
fresh air and spring breezes competed with the scent of hot electronics, solder, and coffee.
The smells in the room came from a workbench. No, it was a desk. No, a bench. It appeared to be some sort of mistaken cross-breeding attempt between an
antique oak rolltop and a modern, top-of-the-line lab bench. It was festooned with electronic gear, micro-machining tools, a small yet powerful computer, and
other assorted electronic detritus. On one corner a thermos balanced precariously, the open top letting steam gently waft out.
A young woman was seated at the desk, hunched over in concentration. She wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of magnifying goggles that would have made her
striking blue eyes stand out comically had anyone been in position to see it.
Katherine St. Clair scooted her chair a bit closer to the desk, hummed a snatch of Beethoven, stuck her tongue in the corner of her mouth, and
ever-so-delicately eased the probe tip towards the micro-traces on the circuit board she was working on. Above her on a shelf, a brass model of Miss Liberty
sat in apparent thought, leaning forward to peer with mechanical eyes down at the desk.
It was not a moment that should be interrupted, which of course meant that it would be.
Katy looked up from her work as a red light began to flash on her bench and a buzzer began to sound. Stifling a curse, she yanked off her magnifying goggles,
shut off the soldering iron, and racked the logic probe with swift, economical motions. She tapped at a knot in the grain on the front of her desk and the
workbench shivered, then sank into the old oak rolltop desk without a sound -- Katy grabbed for and rescued the thermos moments before it would have been
swallowed into the depths. An ordinary desktop rotated into the lab bench's place, with an open copy of Gulliver's Travels and some scribbled-on
notepaper lying in wait; Katy set the thermos next to them. The light and the buzzer fell quiet.
A knock sounded at her door. Katy took a deep breath, then picked up the book, assumed a studious pose, and called, "C'mon in!"
The door opened and her family's butler Craig stepped through, closing it silently behind him.
"Oh, it's only you," Katy remarked, sighing. She tossed the book back onto the desk.
"May I infer from that rather degrading comment that you were in the middle of a project, young miss?"
Katy nodded, then flushed as Craig's words caught up with her. "Yes, I was, and I'm sorry. I really need to work on that warning system... it
shouldn't go off when it's you approaching."
The old man smiled. "Well, at least it works." He cleared his throat. "At any rate, the reason I've come is this." So saying, he
set an envelope, of the sort typically used for invitations, on Katy's desk. Katy raised an eyebrow.
"I'm guessing I'm not going to like this," she remarked as she picked up the envelope. The seal on the flap -- already broken, she noted --
wasn't one she recognized. It was a sort of stylized anarchy symbol pressed into wax. She glanced at Craig, who wore a grim expression, and took out the
card. It was neatly typed and at first appeared to be some sort of telegram, or memo:
TO : Katy Kaboom, Paragon City
FROM: Buffer Overflow, Rogue Isles
RE : A mutual acquaintance
While I appreciate the field-test you gave my latest round of combat units, Ms. Kaboom, I dislike having to repair them so
often, and wish to avoid doing so in the future. Your skills seem to be on par with mine; perhaps together we could achieve heights undreamed of before. I
see potential there.
Since you seem to be one of those idealistic types, it's obvious that a proper... motivation... is in order. The fool
who delivered this note has been implanted with one of my special little toys. Should you fail to appear at the designated time, should you appear with
company, or if the item is tinkered with... well, let's just say that the results would be unpleasant and leave it at that.
In hopes of a profitable partnership,
J.
Scrawled below the signature was a set of latitude/longitude coordinates together with a date and time -- roughly four hours from now, Katy realized. She
looked up at Craig, who immediately raised a hand to forestall her outburst.
"Mr. Faulkner delivered the note through the usual blind mail drop, with a note requesting your aid and stating that, quote, 'That's one creepy
lady', unquote. She does not know your true identity, as far as I can tell."
"Jeremy?" she gasped. "Oh, no..."
Craig nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid you have no choice but to meet with her, at least briefly. Mr. Faulkner is currently at the medical center, where
they've established that he does indeed have a foreign object embedded in his sternum. They have not yet identified it."
Katy closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. Jeremy Faulkner was her oldest, and most trusted, contact, the first in a growing set who helped the heroine
Katy Kaboom find crime and stop it in its tracks. Katy rose to her feet. "I need to see him," she said.
"That would not be wise, at this time -- I'm sure Ms. J is having him watched, most likely in hopes of identifying you. He knows you will do your
best to help him."
Katy glared, then relaxed a bit and nodded. "Okay, Craig. I'll take your word for it."
Craig inclined his head. "Shall I prepare your gear then?"
"Yes, please. And my flightsuit."
Craig twitched. "Ah... yes. Speaking of your flightsuit... would it be possible to... I mean... well, put bluntly, I'm rather uncomfortable handling
your *bikini*, miss."
"It's a flightsuit, and it's necessary for the weight distribution," Katy growled, fighting back the urge to blush, "and I don't
want to hear about it."
"... as you say." Shaking his head, Craig let himself out quietly.
Katy blew an exasperated sigh, making her bangs twitch, then gathered a few things and headed for her secret underground lair -- a converted sub-sub-basement
under the condominium complex that had just enough room to store the things she couldn't risk keeping in her bedroom. Craig would already be there,
probably wincing and using tongs to handle her flightsuit, she thought, wryly grinning to herself.
After she arrived it was but the work of mere moments for Katy to strip and change into her 'working clothes', as she liked to call them. A mid-length
pleated skirt, an armored vest with short sleeves, a pair of fingerless gloves with lead weights sewn in over the knuckles, and a good sturdy pair of running
shoes comprised the outfit. The, um, flightsuit was hidden underneath the other layers. In tribute to her recent invitation to join the ranks of The
Legendary, a prominent supergroup in Paragon City, she'd changed the colors of her outfit from their usual red and grey to a brighter yellow and blue. The
only downside, she reflected as she eyed herself in the mirror, was that it made her look like a hyperactive cheerleader.
"Get some pom-poms and I'd be all set," she muttered while twisting her hair up into twin pigtails.
She slipped on her datagoggles, leaving them up over her forehead for the time being, then left the changing booth and took two short steps to the main
computer where Craig was busily tapping away at keys. She looked over his shoulder at the master display as he began to speak.
"I've isolated the coordinates," he said without preamble. "They are not in the city itself, but out at sea, just past the harbor. I think
it's safe to say that Ms. J does not want to risk an incident without the approval of Recluse. Where she's set the meeting is as close to neutral
territory as one can get -- without visiting Pocket D, that is," he added wryly.
"Pretty far from any backup," Katy mused. If she was ambushed and couldn't fight them off... the phrase 'fish food' swam through
Katy's mind and she shuddered. She'd grown to dislike operating without backup in some form. The past few months had been exciting, educational,
filled with experiences she'd never have imagined, and painful as all hell. She still woke up nights, remembering the Circle of Thorns bust that had gone
wrong; a passing hero had saved her, but it had been a close thing. In some ways worse was the testing phase of her flightsuit; the first failure of the
anti-gravity unit had led directly to a (mercifully short) stay at the medical center. Even now she tended to hesitate before stepping off of buildings into
open space -- having her leg bones driven up into her abdomen again was somewhere in the top three on her list of Things To Avoid.
Speaking of... Katy double-tapped the self-test button on her MediComm unit and felt the reassuring subdermal vibration that indicated it was functioning
properly.
"If I may..." Craig began. At Katy's questioning look, he shrugged. "It seems to me that you're no worse off by having backup nearby,
as long as Ms. J doesn't discover it. Should a situation arise that requires they act, well... at that point, I doubt you'll be able to do anything to
save Mr. Faulkner anyway. What information I've found on 'Buffer Overflow' -- not much -- doesn't say anything about how likely she is to keep
her word. And, if you'll note, she said nothing about removing the implant after your... meeting."
Katy frowned, but nodded. "You're right, of course... you always are. But I don't like the idea. It feels like... I dunno, like I'm playing
with Jeremy's life, or something."
"I'm afraid we haven't a choice, miss."
Katy hmm'd thoughtfully and sat down at the secondary station, calling up a link to The Legendary's master computer. She only had basic access, but
that would be enough to do what she needed. It was but a few moments' work to see who was available. The first name that appeared on the list was
Yukiyo... Katy shrugged. She'd never worked with the other girl, but the information in The Legendary's computer looked promising. Yukiyo was listed
as a female, ranked one step higher than Katy in The Legendary, apparent age -- whatever 'apparent' meant -- of sixteen, a much higher security level
than Katy's own... all in all, a good choice. Frustratingly, any personal details that might have been posted about the other girl were blocked off;
Katy's access level wasn't high enough to read any of it. The only personal comment she found in the publicly accessible portion of the file was a
cryptic note about the repair costs for a photocopier. Katy raised an eyebrow at it, then shrugged. Well, she'd always been good at striking up
conversations. No time like the present!
She dug around in a pouch and produced the Legendary-issued communicator that Evangelia had given her when she joined, switched it to a private channel, and
spoke. "Katy Kaboom calling Yukiyo. Come in please!"
For a few moments there was silence, then the display panel lit up with the image of a bespectacled girl with reddish-brown hair. The face grew enormously,
until all that could be seen was a distorted pair of eyes and a nose, then drew back again. "Hello? This is Yukiyo! Who are you?" Annoyingly,
lines of static were crawling across the display.
"I'm Katy -- Katy Kaboom. I joined The Legendary a little while ago, but I don't think we've met yet." Katy put on her best smile.
"My schedule is... hectic. Heh."
"Hiya Katy!" Yukiyo's face took on a curious expression. "So, what's up?"
Katy leaned forward. "Listen -- I've got to go meet someone in a little bit who has put a very good friend of mine in the hospital. I'm trying
to save him. The lady I've got to meet might be dangerous... I don't want to go in without backup." She paused for a moment, then plunged on.
"I know you don't know me, but when Evangelia invited me she said you guys were the best, and you've all been really friendly. I could really use
your help, if you've got the time."
In the display, Yukiyo smiled and her eyes lit up, though something about her expression set alarms jangling in Katy's head. "Ooh, sounds fun!"
she said. "Count me in!"
Katy smiled back. "Great! Have you got a pen?" She rattled off the coordinates and time. "There's one other thing. I'm supposed to
go alone -- if she even suspects I have backup, she'll do something really bad to my friend. But... well, I think she's going to do it anyway,
y'know? So I'd rather be safe, than sorry."
Yukiyo's face was deadly serious. "Got it. I need to stay out of sight."
"Yup. Will you be able to get there? I can put my Raptor pack back together for you..." I think, Katy added under her breath.
"Don't worry, I can make it," Yukiyo said.
"Thanks a lot, Yukiyo. I really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it." Yukiyo grinned. "Afterwards, you can buy the ice cream, okay?"
Katy laughed. "It's a deal. See you in a few!"
With backup secured, Katy turned to her loadout. The pouches on her belt were the best tech money could buy; Craig had acquired them for her before her first
night out. Through some form of technological wizardry they held much more than could possibly have fit in a normal container of the same size; Katy had tried
disassembling one of them a while back to see if she could replicate the effect, but the results weren't encouraging. Craig had merely commented that the
soot-covered look was not really her style, and handed her a broom.
A set of abandoned high-school lockers lined the far wall, a mere three paces away from the computer station. Katy packed all her 'toys', as she
called them, taking a moment to make sure the makeshift trigger guard she'd fitted to the hair dryer was secure and would prevent her from blowing her own
belt off herself if she was a bit careless with the draw. (She still got a kick out of watching goon's faces change from amusement to terror as the
overpowered Hair-Dryer-From-Hell sent them flying dozens of feet away, tumbling helplessly end-over-end.)
Then she checked her watch, nodded, gave Craig a wink and a thumbs-up, and stepped to the only blank section of wall in the cramped basement. For a moment
nothing happened; then, with the faintest of hissings, a brief puff of steam spouted from a rectangular outline on the wall, the size and shape of a normal
door. The wall drifted inward on gleaming brass tracks, then smoothly slid to one side and stopped. The doorway thus revealed opened into a rough-hewn tunnel
that branched into four distinct passageways almost immediately. Katy dropped her goggles over her eyes and flicked them into light-amp mode, then stepped
through the doorway, which slid shut behind her just as silently as it had opened. When it finished moving, even Katy -- who knew exactly where it was on the
otherwise normal-looking section of tunnel wall -- couldn't make out the faintest of outlines.
"Grandpa did some good work," she told herself, then turned and headed down one of the tunnels.
The cave network she was in was part of a vast, rambling, and mostly uncharted underground network of caverns and tunnels that lay underneath a surprisingly
large percentage of Paragon City. Sometimes, on very rare occassions, some trick of sound brought an echo down from the surface, or perhaps from deeper in the
network. But mostly, the only sound was the scrape of her shoes on stone, the odd dripping of water, or the faintest of rumbles if she happened to be near a
support column for the train line.
This particular tunnel network, she suspected, had been walled off from the rest of the network by her grandfather -- the four branches led to at least twice
as many secret exits located around Atlas Park. She still hadn't fully explored them, but she'd never found so much as a hint of anyone else even
knowing they existed, much less using them. At the ends of a couple of the branches she'd found evidence of cave-ins, but it was impossible for her to
tell if they had been triggered or if it was natural.
What it all came down to, she thought as she twisted past a large boulder that she really meant to do something about some day, is that she had the smartest
grandfather in the world, for him to have set all this up without anyone knowing about it.
In fairly short order she came to her favored exit. A polished brass tube with a bend at the end jutted down from the rock ceiling; Katy pushed back her
goggles and put an eye to it, then spun slowly in a circle like a submariner at his periscope.
In the shadows under an ancient tree in one of Atlas Park's park areas, a groundhog popped up from his burrow and began to look around. In every detail
save one it would fool any observer; the only giveaway that it was not a real flesh-and-blood groundhog was the crystal gleam of its glass eyes.
After making sure the coast was clear, Katy stepped past the tube and climbed a short ladder into a tight cylinder. She peered out a tiny hole one last time,
then fumbled open the latch and stepped out of the trunk of the tree, closing the false door behind her and brushing dirt off her costume.
She grinned, whispered "Thanks, Phil," to the groundhog as he popped back down below ground level, and took to the air, heading for the train line
and, from there, to the harbor.
Katy squinted her eyes against the glare as she closed in on the coordinates. Her flightsuit was responding perfectly, keeping her aloft with a reassuring
warm hum of electronics and the faint whiff of ozone. Her pigtails and skirt snapped in the wind of her passage, and despite her misgivings about her mission,
she couldn't help but enjoy herself a bit. The ability to fly alone would have been enough to lure her into the superhero business, she thought.
Gentle swells of water blurred past below, sending dazzling sparkles of light through the air as the late afternoon sun at her back reflected off the surface.
This far out, on this calm of a day, there were no true waves and no whitecaps to speak of. The ocean appeared as flat as a pane of glass, broken only by the
occasional leap of a fish or resting seabird.
And the small boat waiting patiently ahead.
From this distance, perhaps a half mile away, it appeared to Katy to be a small sailboat, painted white with green trim. The sail was furled, and a lone
figure could be seen -- minus all detail, of course -- sitting at a table under a sun umbrella on the stern end. Katy checked her watch -- she was two minutes
early -- and mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that Yukiyo was within range. Though, as she looked around, Katy couldn't help but worry that the other
girl would be too far away to arrive in time -- after all, there was no place to hide out here.
Unless Yukiyo could breathe underwater...
Katy shook off her misgivings and adjusted course slightly, slowing and rising a bit to clear the steel rail running around the deck of the boat, then touched
down lightly about ten feet from the figure at the table -- a young-looking woman, no more than ten years older than Katy herself, wearing a simple but
elegant pair of pleated slacks, a pale blue shirt, and a yellow scarf tied loosely around her neck. Mirrored sunglasses hid her eyes from view, and her lips
were pursed in what could only have been amusement. For a few moments there was silence.
"Buffer Overflow?" Katy asked, unable to keep a note of sarcasm out of her voice.
"Katy Kaboom." The woman smiled, then, and raised a tall, thin glass of wine in salute, indicating the other chair placed at the table.
"Please, join me. You may call me Jess, if you like. May I offer you refreshment?"
Katy blinked, puzzled. "I, um... I'd rather stand. And no, thank you."
Jess set her wineglass down, then removed her sunglasses, folding them carefully before placing them on the table as well. She looked up at Katy with that
smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, blue eyes boring into Katy's own with surprising charisma.
"I'm sorry I had to get your attention this way, Ms. Kaboom -- may I call you Katy? -- but it seemed the proper course at the time. I believe we have
much to discuss."
Katy shook her head angrily. "The only thing I'm here to discuss is you getting whatever that is out of Jeremy's chest."
"Oh, is that his name?" Jess waved one hand airily. "I confess I didn't bother interrogating him -- I simply wanted to get the message to
you as quickly as possible, and you're not exactly in the phonebook, you know." She smiled gently. "Please, Katy, sit. I'm not going to
hurt you, and -- Jeremy, was it? -- Jeremy will remain unharmed." She leaned back, tilting her head to one side and giving Katy a considering look.
"That is, of course, assuming we can reach an agreement."
Reluctantly, Katy crossed the deck and sat, moving the chair slightly to one side so the table was directly between her and her opponent. "What is it you
want?"
"My, but you're direct." Jess folded her hands and rested them on the table. "Let me ask you this, first: do you recall the bank heist
three weeks ago that you were instrumental in preventing?"
Katy nodded curtly.
"And do you recall the robots that you ever-so-cleverly dismantled during the battle outside the vault door?"
Katy frowned. "Vaguely." Sensing an opening, she added, "They were a pretty crude design -- I was surprised to see that they worked at all,
honestly. Why do you ask?"
Jess mustered another smile. "Because, my dear, those were MY robots you and your pack of costumed thugs took apart. All but destroyed, in one case;
poor TRS-80 may never be the same again."
Katy let a grin creep onto her face. "Not to be obvious or anything, but, isn't that what I was supposed to do? You were trying to rob the bank,
after all."
Ignoring the jibe, the villain pressed on. "Sources tell me that you created your equipment yourself. Is this true?"
Katy eyed her suspiciously, then nodded. "Yes, it's true. Now, what do you want?"
Jess rose and walked slowly away from the table, clasping her hands behind her back. Katy could hear the deck creak slightly with her steps, but aside from
the rustling of the sail and the slap of water against the hull, there were no other sounds. Finally, the villain spoke.
"I desire the one thing that everyone should have, but so many do not. What you and the other idealists in Paragon City fight for. What one famous man
once said is the inalienable right of all people. I want freedom, Katy. I want it so badly I can taste it."
Katy felt her thoughts collapse into confusion. "Wait, what? Freedom?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."
"You don't think I woke up one day and decided I was going to be a villain, did you?" Jess spun around, one hand whipping up to point an
accusing finger in Katy's direction. "Some of us didn't have the choice that you did!" She set her jaw and turned her head to the side,
closing her eyes and visibly fighting for control. When she spoke again, her voice was raw with emotion and tightly controlled.
"You must understand that you have to fight for freedom, Katy. That's why you're out there in that costume, protecting those who can't
protect themselves. I respect that. But I don't have your gift with machines. I have to fight in my own way. If you help me, Katy -- just a little,
with the hardware! -- I'll be much better able to protect myself and those I care for. You don't understand what it's like in the Isles; it's
not the anarchist utopia the literature claims it to be." She spread her arms helplessly. "We're slaves, dancing to a madman's tune. I
want my freedom back."
Katy stood, stuck in a whirlpool of indecision as the desire to help, to protect, fought a pitched battle with the knowledge that the woman opposite her was
responsible for horrific acts of criminal brutality. She gathered breath to speak, opened her mouth --
-- and let it out in a squeak of surprise as her belt suddenly buzzed against her hip, chirping a merry tune at the same time.
"It appears your phone is ringing, my dear," Jess observed with deadpan humor.
Katy blushed and backed away, muttering an apology. Jess waved one hand in dismissal and moved to the other end of the stern, very blatantly giving Katy both
permission and relative privacy to answer the call.
Katy whipped the phone off her belt, glanced at the caller ID, then flipped it open and hissed, "I'm right in the MIDDLE of something, here!"
"My apologies, miss, but this is important." Craig's slightly-tinny voice dropped even lower. "Are you able to talk?"
One of these days we've really got to set up some sort of verbal code, Katy thought as she wracked her brain for a safe answer. "Not really."
"You should be aware that the medical center removed the object from Jeremy's sternum, and he will make a full recovery shortly. It was an explosive
device of some sort and is, as far as they can tell, still active. It was buried just under the skin, he probably won't even have a scar."
Katy sucked in a deep breath. "That's... good news, thank you. I have to go now. Bye!" She snapped the phone shut, then turned her attention
back to Jess.
"So, um... you want my help with hardware?" Katy said quietly. The other woman nodded.
"Yes. With your skills, and my abilities, my robots could protect anybody, even against Recluse himself!" Jess stared fervently into Katy's
eyes. "Please, Katy. I don't beg often, but for this, I'll do anything you want. ANY thing."
It was perhaps the most believable and sincere entreaty Katy had ever heard from a criminal -- and during her short career, she'd already heard lots of
them. It was TOO good, she thought, and met Jess's impassioned stare with her own. Ironically, if there had been anything in the other woman's look
except for the pleading, Katy would have been more inclined to believe her.
And that was it, Katy realized. It was all an act. It was a good one, but it couldn't be anything else; it was TOO perfect, too polished, to be sincere.
Katy shook her head slowly. "No, ma'am, I don't think so." At the villain's puzzled look, Katy explained. "If I were to help you
with your little toys, it would be as if I were committing your crimes myself. And I'm sworn to, hello? Not do that."
Jess frowned. "You act as though you truly have a choice, Katy. Need I remind you that your friend Jeremy's life is in the balance? I don't
want to hurt him, but it's your decision --"
"Jeremy's life is not in your hands any longer, you bitch," Katy growled.
The older worman scowled, pushing back one sleeve to expose a wrist-mounted computer system. She tapped quickly at a couple of keys, then sighed. "So be
it, Katy. Your friend will pay the price. I gave you the option to prevent it; his death is on your hands. The countdown has beg-- what are you doing?"
Katy didn't answer verbally. She produced her cellphone again, speed-dialing a number with quick, angry motions, then put it on speakerphone and held the
device up. It rang and was immediately picked up.
"Yo, Kay-tee!"
Katy smiled at Jess and raised her voice slightly. "Hi Jeremy. Tell me, how's your chest feeling?"
"Where are ya, down at the docks? I swear I just heard a seagull. Yeah, I'm doin' great! And woo, these pain meds? Yeah... I need to get hurt
more often, I'm tellin' ya."
Jess's scowl deepened.
"Lissen, Katy, I gotta -- whoa! Damn, I'm glad they got that outta me!" In the background, an alarm began to sound and voices began to trickle
through the link. "That thing just blew up! Geez, talk about yer close calls, huh?"
"Is everyone okay?" Katy didn't take her eyes off of Jess, whose fists were clenched in white-knuckle rage at her sides.
"Yeah, yeah, everyone's okay. They put it in a box after takin' it outta me, some egghead from the research department was s'posed to come
collect it."
"Okay. Listen, Jeremy, you let them take care of you, okay? I've gotta go."
"Right! Bye, Katy, an' thanks!"
Katy closed the phone and tucked it away again, palming another small device as she did so. She folded her hands in front of her waist, keeping it hidden, and
cocked her head brightly at her foe. "You were saying?"
Jess stared blankly for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. I'd prefer your voluntary cooperation, but if you want to do this the hard way..." She
tapped another key and the boat began to rumble.
Katy mashed the button on the device she held as hard as she could and felt it vibrate in response, then stumbled and nearly fell as the deck in front of her
split and cracked open and a robot rose through from beneath, shedding bits of decking and insulation as it climbed out of the gaping hole created by its
passage.
At the middle of the boat, a hatch cover blew off its hinges and another robot jumped through, landing on the deck in a burst of thruster jets and incidentally
setting the sail on fire.
Katy quick-drew her hair dryer, thumbed it to maxiumum, and aimed it at Jess. Fast as she was, she wasn't quick enough -- the other woman flung a handful
of something at her that burst in a cloud around her chest and face, blinding her momentarily and causing her to cough and sputter. Katy's finger
tightened on the trigger, but her aim wasn't yet on target, and the only result was to catapult the table -- umbrella, chairs, and all -- out into the
water.
"You should have agreed, Katy." Jess reached up and caught a large, boxy energy rifle without looking as the second robot tossed it to her; she
worked the charging bolt with casual ease and let the barrel come to rest in Katy's direction as the weapon powered up.
Katy dropped the emergency transmitter -- dammit, Yukiyo, where are you? she thought angrily -- and activated her flightsuit, taking to the air just in time to
avoid a swipe from the first robot's huge arm. It cratered the deck where she'd been a moment before. She shoved the hair dryer back into a pouch --
it would be a few seconds yet before it finished recharging -- and brought out her Thug-A-Pult, pointing the business end at Jess and mashing the button with
her thumb.
A fusillade of laser blasts caught her in the back and shoulders, scorching her armor, pitching her forward and ruining her aim; the villain's clothing
rippled and she rose to the balls of her feet, but there wasn't enough time for the full effect to hit. Katy whirled to face the incoming fire and saw the
second robot, cannon arm still covered in discharge bleed from the shots.
"Enough is enough!" she barked, triggering another device with her free hand. A pulse of energy rippled out, washing over both robots and their
master in the close confines of the deck. Neither robot seemed to notice, but Katy was gratified to see Jess suddenly go slack and slump, unconscious.
Both robots began to track her with their cannon arms as Katy hastily re-targeted her Thug-A-Pult -- wouldn't do to wake poor, tired Jess from her
well-deserved nap, after all. She yelped in pain as the first blast caught her square in the back, burning away what armor remained and blistering her skin.
The 'bot in the middle of the boat was caught up in her Thug-A-Pult's field and hurled straight up into the burning sail, where it thrashed and jerked
spasmodically for a few moments before crashing back down to the deck in a spray of wood and flaming cloth.
Correction, Katy noted as she spun to deal with the other robot. THROUGH the deck.
Moving with surprising speed for such a bulky, ungainly contraption -- Katy's technogeek heart ached at the sight of such crude-looking handiwork -- the
robot leaped forward and seized her by her left ankle. Katy barely had time to register the horizon changing position on her before the deck leaped up and
gave her a swift kick in the head.
She blacked out for only a moment; before C-64 (according to the stencil on his shoulder pauldron, which Katy noted in a kind of absent daze) could swing her
around or attack her again, he vanished in a spectacular fireball which rocked the entire boat and shoved Katy a few feet closer to the edge, but did not burn
her. The explosion billowed out and slapped Jess awake, then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"HIIIII, Katy! Sorry I'm late!" Yukiyo cried as she plummeted from above in a swan-dive. Just before she would have impacted the deck in a
bone-shattering collision, she abruptly slowed -- as though gravity had changed it's mind about yanking her down to Earth -- and touched down lightly on
sneakered feet. Curiously, she seemed to be coated with a thin layer of frost, though she didn't appear to notice. Katy glanced up, noted the height of
the clouds, did the math, and blinked. No wonder it had taken Yukiyo a while to make her entrance.
"Better late," Katy wheezed as she got back to her feet, "than never. The fireball was you, I take it?"
Yukiyo nodded. Then she turned to the smoldering remains of C-64, which were sparking and twitching, making mechanical groaning noises as the robot struggled
to stand, and eyed it speculatively for a moment. She pursed her lips and blew softly at it.
A roaring twenty-foot jet of flame seared forth, washing over the half-molten robot and finishing the job quickly. Jess uttered an undignified yelp and leapt
to the side, barely avoiding the backwash.
"Oh," Katy breathed, "wow. I *like*."
"Thanks -- oof!" Yukiyo grimaced as a pair of laser bolts staggered her slightly. One came from the robot rising from the ashes of the sail, the
other from Jess, whose face was as red as a boiled lobster -- from anger or from proximity to the fire blast, Katy wasn't sure which.
"I've got the bitch -- you get the bot?" Katy inquired conversationally as her and Yukiyo's eyes met. The older girl smiled again, her
glasses reflecting the fires on the boat and making it seem like flames were dancing in her eyes, and nodded.
"You bet!"
"Let's do it!" They broke apart, dodging another volley in the process, and closed on their respective opponents. Katy quickly lost track of
Yukiyo's progress as she concentrated on her target; the only indication of struggle from that quarter were excited battle cries from Yukiyo and the sounds
made by a frustrated mechanoid being dismembered piece by piece.
Jess snarled -- literally snarled, spittle flying from her lips -- and tensed, her muscles knotting momentarily and standing out starkly against her streaked
and grimy skin. Katy watched in horror as the other woman's flesh rippled, going from burned and bloody to seamless perfection in the blink of an eye, as
a sick blood-red glow burst from her body, fading rapidly and vanishing in moments.
"Robots aren't my only specialty, little girl," Jess sneered.
"Some specialty," Katy commented, raising her Thug-A-Pult. "I'd say you're better suited to junk sculpture."
Jess opened her mouth to respond, but didn't get the chance. Her face took on a startled and dismayed expression as she was lofted a full thirty feet into
the air, then dropped unceremoniously into the ocean with a resounding splash.
"... well, that wasn't what I had in mind," Katy grumbled. She scowled thoughtfully at the Thug-A-Pult, which resembled nothing so much as a
chunky remote control.
"Did you mean to do that?" Yukiyo asked, skipping lightly up the steps from the deck below. Behind her on the lower deck the remains of the second
robot smoked gently; Yukiyo was tossing a still-glowing optic lightly in one hand, almost like a trophy or a souvenir.
"No. She was supposed to land on the deck, so I could beat her up some more," Katy replied.
"Oh."
From the ocean below, a scream of rage sounded. "You will PAY, you little WITCH!"
They rushed to the railing, peering down at a thoroughly soaked and bedraggled Buffer Overflow, treading water and spluttering and coughing after her
unexpected diving practice.
"I could fry her...?" Yukiyo suggested hopefully.
"Tempting," Katy replied, then shook her head ruefully as the villain vanished in a flare of light.
They turned and surveyed the wreckage. Two melted warbots lay in ruin, and the once-pristine sailboat was listing and wallowing in the water. From below a
merry burbling arose as one or more holes allowed water to gush into the hull, and thick streamers of black smoke rose from multiple locations. The flag which
had been flying from the mast was now riddled with holes -- stray laser blasts, Katy assumed -- and the mast itself looked like someone had taken a bite out of
it at one point.
"I think we broke her boat," Yukiyo observed. Katy burst out laughing.
"By the way, Katy?" Yukiyo continued, pushing her glasses up on her nose and looking innocently at the sky. "Your bikini is, um, very
nice."
Katy glanced down and went red to the roots of her hair. Her armored vest was hanging down around her waist like a second skirt, the back having been burned
completely away by multiple laser blasts. Her flightsuit was thus exposed, and while it covered everything it needed to, it was still more revealing than she
preferred. She hastily dug through her pouches until she found the sweater she was looking for, then pulled it on. Yukiyo busied herself looking through the
optic at everything except Katy, while a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Katy finished rearranging her clothing, then blew a sigh. "Well, I think we're done here for now. She got away, but it'll probably be a while
before she gets more robots, at least."
"What about your friend? Is he going to be okay?"
"Oh! Yes." Katy grinned. "Turns out she wasn't as clever as she thought. The doctors were able to pull the explosive out of his chest
before she could set it off, and she didn't even know they'd done it."
"That's wonderful!"
"Yeah. Jeremy's a good guy." Katy paused as the boat trembled and dropped a few inches. "Maybe we should be going?"
"I think you're right. Race you to the ice cream parlor!" Yukiyo zoomed away with Katy in close pursuit, laughing.
"That's not fair, you had a head start!" As she was left farther behind, Katy let out a plaintive cry:
"Hey, wait a minute! WHICH ice cream parlor?!"
"I see your... outing... was not without incident, miss."
Katy grimaced and twisted her head, trying without success to get a closer look at the itching, burning portion of her back, where the laser blasts had struck.
She spared a moment to direct a half-hearted glare at Craig. "You could help here, y'know," she said in irritation.
"I would dearly love to," he replied. His hands were clasped at the small of his ramrod-straight back; she couldn't see his face, since he was
facing into the other room, but she thought she could hear the hint of a smile. "If miss would be so kind as to put on a shirt, perhaps? Or step away
from the mirror."
Katy blinked and turned her head to regard the full-length mirror in the closet-sized space that served as her changing booth. "Don't be so
stuffy," she said, ignoring the blush that sprang to her cheeks. "My back -hurts-."
Even as she spoke she was struggling into a loose-fitting t-shirt. Craig seemed to possess a sixth sense about when she was and was not acceptably dressed; as
soon as she'd finished, he turned around and began to minister to her back.
"I recommend you sleep on your stomach or side tonight," he said quietly as he applied burn cream.
"Mm-hmm," Katy replied. "Craig?"
"Yes, miss?"
"Keep an eye out for this Overflow joker, please? I don't know how she found Jeremy, and that worries me. A lot." She paused for a moment.
"I don't think we've seen the last of her."
Evening, Port Oakes, Rogue Isles.
"Jess, what did you DO to them?! They're WRECKED!"
"Just fix them, Timothy. Fix them immediately. I don't care how, I don't care what parts you need, just fix them. You'll find funds in your
account already."
Timothy -- a pale, scrawny geek with a nervous tic under one eye and hands that seemed almost comically oversized against his bony frame -- eyed her
speculatively. Jess frowned at him. She knew what would be next, and forestalled it by raising her hand decisively even as Timothy opened his mouth to speak.
"No." That one word was packed with meaning. "The terms are unchanged."
The little man shrugged and made a show of putting his hands in his pockets. "Well, I don't know that I can help you, then," he said.
"I've got other customers, you know, and seems to me you need me more than I need -- glrrk!"
"You were saying? Do continue, please; it sounded most interesting." Jess folded her arms and smiled sweetly at her hardware geek, who dangled
helplessly from the manipulator claw of her sole remaining warbot -- the same one who'd remained safely behind with a teleport relay beacon to drag her out
if things went south. Which they had. Dismally. "You may let him breathe, Pedro," she said, as if an afterthought.
PDP-10 relaxed his claw enough for air to wheeze through Timothy's neck. The man gasped and kicked, fingers digging frantically at the steel around his
throat. Satisfied that he wouldn't expire immediately, Jess moved forward in the dim warehouse that served Timothy as a workshop. Her eyes caught his,
and she could see the sudden fear in his gaze.
"Let us be perfectly clear on this, Timothy. Our relationship is one of mutual benefit. You supply the hardware, as is your specialty; I supply the
software, as is mine. Your 'other customers' wouldn't exist if it weren't for me. Or have you forgotten how badly your creations fared before
I came along?" She paused as a thought struck her. "While we're on the subject, your implant did not work as advertised. I find that very
disappointing, Timothy."
Moving to stand beside him, where he couldn't easily kick her should he suddenly become suicidal, she reached out and trailed one fingernail lightly down
his cheek. "Finally, if you ever question our arrangements like this again, I'll let Pedro here demonstrate how ... versatile... his programming
really is." She turned his head to face her squarely. "Now, if you understand and agree to these terms, we can continue as if this unpleasantness
never happened."
She crossed back to the crate she'd been sitting on before and resumed her perch. "Do we have an understanding?"
Timothy nodded -- or at least, jerked his chin up and down frantically, being unable to move his head easily at the moment.
"Very good. Pedro, you heard the man. He's going to play nice."
PDP-10 turned Timothy and regarded the man with red-glowing optics from a distance of about two inches. It set him back on the floor and released its grip
slowly, then backed away with surprising stealth for a machine that large.
Timothy coughed and rubbed at his throat. "I'll rebuild them tonight," he said, staring at the floor between the toes of her feet.
"Good man," Jess replied, standing and gently raising his face to look at her. First the stick, then the carrot; it worked well with his type.
"I look forward to seeing your latest. A... pleasure, as always, Timothy," she said softly, simultaneously healing the bruise around his neck that
Pedro had left there.
His eyes widened as her powers played along his skin, and he trembled. She smiled, and left him standing there.
--sofaspud--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
KATY KABOOM
Issue #1: Double Jeopardy
(a HERO SANDWICH comic)
Midafternoon, Atlas Park, Paragon City.
A light breeze played with the trees and swirled the drapes at one of the open windows on a high-rise condominium complex. Beyond this particular window, the
fresh air and spring breezes competed with the scent of hot electronics, solder, and coffee.
The smells in the room came from a workbench. No, it was a desk. No, a bench. It appeared to be some sort of mistaken cross-breeding attempt between an
antique oak rolltop and a modern, top-of-the-line lab bench. It was festooned with electronic gear, micro-machining tools, a small yet powerful computer, and
other assorted electronic detritus. On one corner a thermos balanced precariously, the open top letting steam gently waft out.
A young woman was seated at the desk, hunched over in concentration. She wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of magnifying goggles that would have made her
striking blue eyes stand out comically had anyone been in position to see it.
Katherine St. Clair scooted her chair a bit closer to the desk, hummed a snatch of Beethoven, stuck her tongue in the corner of her mouth, and
ever-so-delicately eased the probe tip towards the micro-traces on the circuit board she was working on. Above her on a shelf, a brass model of Miss Liberty
sat in apparent thought, leaning forward to peer with mechanical eyes down at the desk.
It was not a moment that should be interrupted, which of course meant that it would be.
Katy looked up from her work as a red light began to flash on her bench and a buzzer began to sound. Stifling a curse, she yanked off her magnifying goggles,
shut off the soldering iron, and racked the logic probe with swift, economical motions. She tapped at a knot in the grain on the front of her desk and the
workbench shivered, then sank into the old oak rolltop desk without a sound -- Katy grabbed for and rescued the thermos moments before it would have been
swallowed into the depths. An ordinary desktop rotated into the lab bench's place, with an open copy of Gulliver's Travels and some scribbled-on
notepaper lying in wait; Katy set the thermos next to them. The light and the buzzer fell quiet.
A knock sounded at her door. Katy took a deep breath, then picked up the book, assumed a studious pose, and called, "C'mon in!"
The door opened and her family's butler Craig stepped through, closing it silently behind him.
"Oh, it's only you," Katy remarked, sighing. She tossed the book back onto the desk.
"May I infer from that rather degrading comment that you were in the middle of a project, young miss?"
Katy nodded, then flushed as Craig's words caught up with her. "Yes, I was, and I'm sorry. I really need to work on that warning system... it
shouldn't go off when it's you approaching."
The old man smiled. "Well, at least it works." He cleared his throat. "At any rate, the reason I've come is this." So saying, he
set an envelope, of the sort typically used for invitations, on Katy's desk. Katy raised an eyebrow.
"I'm guessing I'm not going to like this," she remarked as she picked up the envelope. The seal on the flap -- already broken, she noted --
wasn't one she recognized. It was a sort of stylized anarchy symbol pressed into wax. She glanced at Craig, who wore a grim expression, and took out the
card. It was neatly typed and at first appeared to be some sort of telegram, or memo:
TO : Katy Kaboom, Paragon City
FROM: Buffer Overflow, Rogue Isles
RE : A mutual acquaintance
While I appreciate the field-test you gave my latest round of combat units, Ms. Kaboom, I dislike having to repair them so
often, and wish to avoid doing so in the future. Your skills seem to be on par with mine; perhaps together we could achieve heights undreamed of before. I
see potential there.
Since you seem to be one of those idealistic types, it's obvious that a proper... motivation... is in order. The fool
who delivered this note has been implanted with one of my special little toys. Should you fail to appear at the designated time, should you appear with
company, or if the item is tinkered with... well, let's just say that the results would be unpleasant and leave it at that.
In hopes of a profitable partnership,
J.
Scrawled below the signature was a set of latitude/longitude coordinates together with a date and time -- roughly four hours from now, Katy realized. She
looked up at Craig, who immediately raised a hand to forestall her outburst.
"Mr. Faulkner delivered the note through the usual blind mail drop, with a note requesting your aid and stating that, quote, 'That's one creepy
lady', unquote. She does not know your true identity, as far as I can tell."
"Jeremy?" she gasped. "Oh, no..."
Craig nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid you have no choice but to meet with her, at least briefly. Mr. Faulkner is currently at the medical center, where
they've established that he does indeed have a foreign object embedded in his sternum. They have not yet identified it."
Katy closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. Jeremy Faulkner was her oldest, and most trusted, contact, the first in a growing set who helped the heroine
Katy Kaboom find crime and stop it in its tracks. Katy rose to her feet. "I need to see him," she said.
"That would not be wise, at this time -- I'm sure Ms. J is having him watched, most likely in hopes of identifying you. He knows you will do your
best to help him."
Katy glared, then relaxed a bit and nodded. "Okay, Craig. I'll take your word for it."
Craig inclined his head. "Shall I prepare your gear then?"
"Yes, please. And my flightsuit."
Craig twitched. "Ah... yes. Speaking of your flightsuit... would it be possible to... I mean... well, put bluntly, I'm rather uncomfortable handling
your *bikini*, miss."
"It's a flightsuit, and it's necessary for the weight distribution," Katy growled, fighting back the urge to blush, "and I don't
want to hear about it."
"... as you say." Shaking his head, Craig let himself out quietly.
Katy blew an exasperated sigh, making her bangs twitch, then gathered a few things and headed for her secret underground lair -- a converted sub-sub-basement
under the condominium complex that had just enough room to store the things she couldn't risk keeping in her bedroom. Craig would already be there,
probably wincing and using tongs to handle her flightsuit, she thought, wryly grinning to herself.
After she arrived it was but the work of mere moments for Katy to strip and change into her 'working clothes', as she liked to call them. A mid-length
pleated skirt, an armored vest with short sleeves, a pair of fingerless gloves with lead weights sewn in over the knuckles, and a good sturdy pair of running
shoes comprised the outfit. The, um, flightsuit was hidden underneath the other layers. In tribute to her recent invitation to join the ranks of The
Legendary, a prominent supergroup in Paragon City, she'd changed the colors of her outfit from their usual red and grey to a brighter yellow and blue. The
only downside, she reflected as she eyed herself in the mirror, was that it made her look like a hyperactive cheerleader.
"Get some pom-poms and I'd be all set," she muttered while twisting her hair up into twin pigtails.
She slipped on her datagoggles, leaving them up over her forehead for the time being, then left the changing booth and took two short steps to the main
computer where Craig was busily tapping away at keys. She looked over his shoulder at the master display as he began to speak.
"I've isolated the coordinates," he said without preamble. "They are not in the city itself, but out at sea, just past the harbor. I think
it's safe to say that Ms. J does not want to risk an incident without the approval of Recluse. Where she's set the meeting is as close to neutral
territory as one can get -- without visiting Pocket D, that is," he added wryly.
"Pretty far from any backup," Katy mused. If she was ambushed and couldn't fight them off... the phrase 'fish food' swam through
Katy's mind and she shuddered. She'd grown to dislike operating without backup in some form. The past few months had been exciting, educational,
filled with experiences she'd never have imagined, and painful as all hell. She still woke up nights, remembering the Circle of Thorns bust that had gone
wrong; a passing hero had saved her, but it had been a close thing. In some ways worse was the testing phase of her flightsuit; the first failure of the
anti-gravity unit had led directly to a (mercifully short) stay at the medical center. Even now she tended to hesitate before stepping off of buildings into
open space -- having her leg bones driven up into her abdomen again was somewhere in the top three on her list of Things To Avoid.
Speaking of... Katy double-tapped the self-test button on her MediComm unit and felt the reassuring subdermal vibration that indicated it was functioning
properly.
"If I may..." Craig began. At Katy's questioning look, he shrugged. "It seems to me that you're no worse off by having backup nearby,
as long as Ms. J doesn't discover it. Should a situation arise that requires they act, well... at that point, I doubt you'll be able to do anything to
save Mr. Faulkner anyway. What information I've found on 'Buffer Overflow' -- not much -- doesn't say anything about how likely she is to keep
her word. And, if you'll note, she said nothing about removing the implant after your... meeting."
Katy frowned, but nodded. "You're right, of course... you always are. But I don't like the idea. It feels like... I dunno, like I'm playing
with Jeremy's life, or something."
"I'm afraid we haven't a choice, miss."
Katy hmm'd thoughtfully and sat down at the secondary station, calling up a link to The Legendary's master computer. She only had basic access, but
that would be enough to do what she needed. It was but a few moments' work to see who was available. The first name that appeared on the list was
Yukiyo... Katy shrugged. She'd never worked with the other girl, but the information in The Legendary's computer looked promising. Yukiyo was listed
as a female, ranked one step higher than Katy in The Legendary, apparent age -- whatever 'apparent' meant -- of sixteen, a much higher security level
than Katy's own... all in all, a good choice. Frustratingly, any personal details that might have been posted about the other girl were blocked off;
Katy's access level wasn't high enough to read any of it. The only personal comment she found in the publicly accessible portion of the file was a
cryptic note about the repair costs for a photocopier. Katy raised an eyebrow at it, then shrugged. Well, she'd always been good at striking up
conversations. No time like the present!
She dug around in a pouch and produced the Legendary-issued communicator that Evangelia had given her when she joined, switched it to a private channel, and
spoke. "Katy Kaboom calling Yukiyo. Come in please!"
For a few moments there was silence, then the display panel lit up with the image of a bespectacled girl with reddish-brown hair. The face grew enormously,
until all that could be seen was a distorted pair of eyes and a nose, then drew back again. "Hello? This is Yukiyo! Who are you?" Annoyingly,
lines of static were crawling across the display.
"I'm Katy -- Katy Kaboom. I joined The Legendary a little while ago, but I don't think we've met yet." Katy put on her best smile.
"My schedule is... hectic. Heh."
"Hiya Katy!" Yukiyo's face took on a curious expression. "So, what's up?"
Katy leaned forward. "Listen -- I've got to go meet someone in a little bit who has put a very good friend of mine in the hospital. I'm trying
to save him. The lady I've got to meet might be dangerous... I don't want to go in without backup." She paused for a moment, then plunged on.
"I know you don't know me, but when Evangelia invited me she said you guys were the best, and you've all been really friendly. I could really use
your help, if you've got the time."
In the display, Yukiyo smiled and her eyes lit up, though something about her expression set alarms jangling in Katy's head. "Ooh, sounds fun!"
she said. "Count me in!"
Katy smiled back. "Great! Have you got a pen?" She rattled off the coordinates and time. "There's one other thing. I'm supposed to
go alone -- if she even suspects I have backup, she'll do something really bad to my friend. But... well, I think she's going to do it anyway,
y'know? So I'd rather be safe, than sorry."
Yukiyo's face was deadly serious. "Got it. I need to stay out of sight."
"Yup. Will you be able to get there? I can put my Raptor pack back together for you..." I think, Katy added under her breath.
"Don't worry, I can make it," Yukiyo said.
"Thanks a lot, Yukiyo. I really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it." Yukiyo grinned. "Afterwards, you can buy the ice cream, okay?"
Katy laughed. "It's a deal. See you in a few!"
With backup secured, Katy turned to her loadout. The pouches on her belt were the best tech money could buy; Craig had acquired them for her before her first
night out. Through some form of technological wizardry they held much more than could possibly have fit in a normal container of the same size; Katy had tried
disassembling one of them a while back to see if she could replicate the effect, but the results weren't encouraging. Craig had merely commented that the
soot-covered look was not really her style, and handed her a broom.
A set of abandoned high-school lockers lined the far wall, a mere three paces away from the computer station. Katy packed all her 'toys', as she
called them, taking a moment to make sure the makeshift trigger guard she'd fitted to the hair dryer was secure and would prevent her from blowing her own
belt off herself if she was a bit careless with the draw. (She still got a kick out of watching goon's faces change from amusement to terror as the
overpowered Hair-Dryer-From-Hell sent them flying dozens of feet away, tumbling helplessly end-over-end.)
Then she checked her watch, nodded, gave Craig a wink and a thumbs-up, and stepped to the only blank section of wall in the cramped basement. For a moment
nothing happened; then, with the faintest of hissings, a brief puff of steam spouted from a rectangular outline on the wall, the size and shape of a normal
door. The wall drifted inward on gleaming brass tracks, then smoothly slid to one side and stopped. The doorway thus revealed opened into a rough-hewn tunnel
that branched into four distinct passageways almost immediately. Katy dropped her goggles over her eyes and flicked them into light-amp mode, then stepped
through the doorway, which slid shut behind her just as silently as it had opened. When it finished moving, even Katy -- who knew exactly where it was on the
otherwise normal-looking section of tunnel wall -- couldn't make out the faintest of outlines.
"Grandpa did some good work," she told herself, then turned and headed down one of the tunnels.
The cave network she was in was part of a vast, rambling, and mostly uncharted underground network of caverns and tunnels that lay underneath a surprisingly
large percentage of Paragon City. Sometimes, on very rare occassions, some trick of sound brought an echo down from the surface, or perhaps from deeper in the
network. But mostly, the only sound was the scrape of her shoes on stone, the odd dripping of water, or the faintest of rumbles if she happened to be near a
support column for the train line.
This particular tunnel network, she suspected, had been walled off from the rest of the network by her grandfather -- the four branches led to at least twice
as many secret exits located around Atlas Park. She still hadn't fully explored them, but she'd never found so much as a hint of anyone else even
knowing they existed, much less using them. At the ends of a couple of the branches she'd found evidence of cave-ins, but it was impossible for her to
tell if they had been triggered or if it was natural.
What it all came down to, she thought as she twisted past a large boulder that she really meant to do something about some day, is that she had the smartest
grandfather in the world, for him to have set all this up without anyone knowing about it.
In fairly short order she came to her favored exit. A polished brass tube with a bend at the end jutted down from the rock ceiling; Katy pushed back her
goggles and put an eye to it, then spun slowly in a circle like a submariner at his periscope.
In the shadows under an ancient tree in one of Atlas Park's park areas, a groundhog popped up from his burrow and began to look around. In every detail
save one it would fool any observer; the only giveaway that it was not a real flesh-and-blood groundhog was the crystal gleam of its glass eyes.
After making sure the coast was clear, Katy stepped past the tube and climbed a short ladder into a tight cylinder. She peered out a tiny hole one last time,
then fumbled open the latch and stepped out of the trunk of the tree, closing the false door behind her and brushing dirt off her costume.
She grinned, whispered "Thanks, Phil," to the groundhog as he popped back down below ground level, and took to the air, heading for the train line
and, from there, to the harbor.
Katy squinted her eyes against the glare as she closed in on the coordinates. Her flightsuit was responding perfectly, keeping her aloft with a reassuring
warm hum of electronics and the faint whiff of ozone. Her pigtails and skirt snapped in the wind of her passage, and despite her misgivings about her mission,
she couldn't help but enjoy herself a bit. The ability to fly alone would have been enough to lure her into the superhero business, she thought.
Gentle swells of water blurred past below, sending dazzling sparkles of light through the air as the late afternoon sun at her back reflected off the surface.
This far out, on this calm of a day, there were no true waves and no whitecaps to speak of. The ocean appeared as flat as a pane of glass, broken only by the
occasional leap of a fish or resting seabird.
And the small boat waiting patiently ahead.
From this distance, perhaps a half mile away, it appeared to Katy to be a small sailboat, painted white with green trim. The sail was furled, and a lone
figure could be seen -- minus all detail, of course -- sitting at a table under a sun umbrella on the stern end. Katy checked her watch -- she was two minutes
early -- and mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that Yukiyo was within range. Though, as she looked around, Katy couldn't help but worry that the other
girl would be too far away to arrive in time -- after all, there was no place to hide out here.
Unless Yukiyo could breathe underwater...
Katy shook off her misgivings and adjusted course slightly, slowing and rising a bit to clear the steel rail running around the deck of the boat, then touched
down lightly about ten feet from the figure at the table -- a young-looking woman, no more than ten years older than Katy herself, wearing a simple but
elegant pair of pleated slacks, a pale blue shirt, and a yellow scarf tied loosely around her neck. Mirrored sunglasses hid her eyes from view, and her lips
were pursed in what could only have been amusement. For a few moments there was silence.
"Buffer Overflow?" Katy asked, unable to keep a note of sarcasm out of her voice.
"Katy Kaboom." The woman smiled, then, and raised a tall, thin glass of wine in salute, indicating the other chair placed at the table.
"Please, join me. You may call me Jess, if you like. May I offer you refreshment?"
Katy blinked, puzzled. "I, um... I'd rather stand. And no, thank you."
Jess set her wineglass down, then removed her sunglasses, folding them carefully before placing them on the table as well. She looked up at Katy with that
smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, blue eyes boring into Katy's own with surprising charisma.
"I'm sorry I had to get your attention this way, Ms. Kaboom -- may I call you Katy? -- but it seemed the proper course at the time. I believe we have
much to discuss."
Katy shook her head angrily. "The only thing I'm here to discuss is you getting whatever that is out of Jeremy's chest."
"Oh, is that his name?" Jess waved one hand airily. "I confess I didn't bother interrogating him -- I simply wanted to get the message to
you as quickly as possible, and you're not exactly in the phonebook, you know." She smiled gently. "Please, Katy, sit. I'm not going to
hurt you, and -- Jeremy, was it? -- Jeremy will remain unharmed." She leaned back, tilting her head to one side and giving Katy a considering look.
"That is, of course, assuming we can reach an agreement."
Reluctantly, Katy crossed the deck and sat, moving the chair slightly to one side so the table was directly between her and her opponent. "What is it you
want?"
"My, but you're direct." Jess folded her hands and rested them on the table. "Let me ask you this, first: do you recall the bank heist
three weeks ago that you were instrumental in preventing?"
Katy nodded curtly.
"And do you recall the robots that you ever-so-cleverly dismantled during the battle outside the vault door?"
Katy frowned. "Vaguely." Sensing an opening, she added, "They were a pretty crude design -- I was surprised to see that they worked at all,
honestly. Why do you ask?"
Jess mustered another smile. "Because, my dear, those were MY robots you and your pack of costumed thugs took apart. All but destroyed, in one case;
poor TRS-80 may never be the same again."
Katy let a grin creep onto her face. "Not to be obvious or anything, but, isn't that what I was supposed to do? You were trying to rob the bank,
after all."
Ignoring the jibe, the villain pressed on. "Sources tell me that you created your equipment yourself. Is this true?"
Katy eyed her suspiciously, then nodded. "Yes, it's true. Now, what do you want?"
Jess rose and walked slowly away from the table, clasping her hands behind her back. Katy could hear the deck creak slightly with her steps, but aside from
the rustling of the sail and the slap of water against the hull, there were no other sounds. Finally, the villain spoke.
"I desire the one thing that everyone should have, but so many do not. What you and the other idealists in Paragon City fight for. What one famous man
once said is the inalienable right of all people. I want freedom, Katy. I want it so badly I can taste it."
Katy felt her thoughts collapse into confusion. "Wait, what? Freedom?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."
"You don't think I woke up one day and decided I was going to be a villain, did you?" Jess spun around, one hand whipping up to point an
accusing finger in Katy's direction. "Some of us didn't have the choice that you did!" She set her jaw and turned her head to the side,
closing her eyes and visibly fighting for control. When she spoke again, her voice was raw with emotion and tightly controlled.
"You must understand that you have to fight for freedom, Katy. That's why you're out there in that costume, protecting those who can't
protect themselves. I respect that. But I don't have your gift with machines. I have to fight in my own way. If you help me, Katy -- just a little,
with the hardware! -- I'll be much better able to protect myself and those I care for. You don't understand what it's like in the Isles; it's
not the anarchist utopia the literature claims it to be." She spread her arms helplessly. "We're slaves, dancing to a madman's tune. I
want my freedom back."
Katy stood, stuck in a whirlpool of indecision as the desire to help, to protect, fought a pitched battle with the knowledge that the woman opposite her was
responsible for horrific acts of criminal brutality. She gathered breath to speak, opened her mouth --
-- and let it out in a squeak of surprise as her belt suddenly buzzed against her hip, chirping a merry tune at the same time.
"It appears your phone is ringing, my dear," Jess observed with deadpan humor.
Katy blushed and backed away, muttering an apology. Jess waved one hand in dismissal and moved to the other end of the stern, very blatantly giving Katy both
permission and relative privacy to answer the call.
Katy whipped the phone off her belt, glanced at the caller ID, then flipped it open and hissed, "I'm right in the MIDDLE of something, here!"
"My apologies, miss, but this is important." Craig's slightly-tinny voice dropped even lower. "Are you able to talk?"
One of these days we've really got to set up some sort of verbal code, Katy thought as she wracked her brain for a safe answer. "Not really."
"You should be aware that the medical center removed the object from Jeremy's sternum, and he will make a full recovery shortly. It was an explosive
device of some sort and is, as far as they can tell, still active. It was buried just under the skin, he probably won't even have a scar."
Katy sucked in a deep breath. "That's... good news, thank you. I have to go now. Bye!" She snapped the phone shut, then turned her attention
back to Jess.
"So, um... you want my help with hardware?" Katy said quietly. The other woman nodded.
"Yes. With your skills, and my abilities, my robots could protect anybody, even against Recluse himself!" Jess stared fervently into Katy's
eyes. "Please, Katy. I don't beg often, but for this, I'll do anything you want. ANY thing."
It was perhaps the most believable and sincere entreaty Katy had ever heard from a criminal -- and during her short career, she'd already heard lots of
them. It was TOO good, she thought, and met Jess's impassioned stare with her own. Ironically, if there had been anything in the other woman's look
except for the pleading, Katy would have been more inclined to believe her.
And that was it, Katy realized. It was all an act. It was a good one, but it couldn't be anything else; it was TOO perfect, too polished, to be sincere.
Katy shook her head slowly. "No, ma'am, I don't think so." At the villain's puzzled look, Katy explained. "If I were to help you
with your little toys, it would be as if I were committing your crimes myself. And I'm sworn to, hello? Not do that."
Jess frowned. "You act as though you truly have a choice, Katy. Need I remind you that your friend Jeremy's life is in the balance? I don't
want to hurt him, but it's your decision --"
"Jeremy's life is not in your hands any longer, you bitch," Katy growled.
The older worman scowled, pushing back one sleeve to expose a wrist-mounted computer system. She tapped quickly at a couple of keys, then sighed. "So be
it, Katy. Your friend will pay the price. I gave you the option to prevent it; his death is on your hands. The countdown has beg-- what are you doing?"
Katy didn't answer verbally. She produced her cellphone again, speed-dialing a number with quick, angry motions, then put it on speakerphone and held the
device up. It rang and was immediately picked up.
"Yo, Kay-tee!"
Katy smiled at Jess and raised her voice slightly. "Hi Jeremy. Tell me, how's your chest feeling?"
"Where are ya, down at the docks? I swear I just heard a seagull. Yeah, I'm doin' great! And woo, these pain meds? Yeah... I need to get hurt
more often, I'm tellin' ya."
Jess's scowl deepened.
"Lissen, Katy, I gotta -- whoa! Damn, I'm glad they got that outta me!" In the background, an alarm began to sound and voices began to trickle
through the link. "That thing just blew up! Geez, talk about yer close calls, huh?"
"Is everyone okay?" Katy didn't take her eyes off of Jess, whose fists were clenched in white-knuckle rage at her sides.
"Yeah, yeah, everyone's okay. They put it in a box after takin' it outta me, some egghead from the research department was s'posed to come
collect it."
"Okay. Listen, Jeremy, you let them take care of you, okay? I've gotta go."
"Right! Bye, Katy, an' thanks!"
Katy closed the phone and tucked it away again, palming another small device as she did so. She folded her hands in front of her waist, keeping it hidden, and
cocked her head brightly at her foe. "You were saying?"
Jess stared blankly for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. I'd prefer your voluntary cooperation, but if you want to do this the hard way..." She
tapped another key and the boat began to rumble.
Katy mashed the button on the device she held as hard as she could and felt it vibrate in response, then stumbled and nearly fell as the deck in front of her
split and cracked open and a robot rose through from beneath, shedding bits of decking and insulation as it climbed out of the gaping hole created by its
passage.
At the middle of the boat, a hatch cover blew off its hinges and another robot jumped through, landing on the deck in a burst of thruster jets and incidentally
setting the sail on fire.
Katy quick-drew her hair dryer, thumbed it to maxiumum, and aimed it at Jess. Fast as she was, she wasn't quick enough -- the other woman flung a handful
of something at her that burst in a cloud around her chest and face, blinding her momentarily and causing her to cough and sputter. Katy's finger
tightened on the trigger, but her aim wasn't yet on target, and the only result was to catapult the table -- umbrella, chairs, and all -- out into the
water.
"You should have agreed, Katy." Jess reached up and caught a large, boxy energy rifle without looking as the second robot tossed it to her; she
worked the charging bolt with casual ease and let the barrel come to rest in Katy's direction as the weapon powered up.
Katy dropped the emergency transmitter -- dammit, Yukiyo, where are you? she thought angrily -- and activated her flightsuit, taking to the air just in time to
avoid a swipe from the first robot's huge arm. It cratered the deck where she'd been a moment before. She shoved the hair dryer back into a pouch --
it would be a few seconds yet before it finished recharging -- and brought out her Thug-A-Pult, pointing the business end at Jess and mashing the button with
her thumb.
A fusillade of laser blasts caught her in the back and shoulders, scorching her armor, pitching her forward and ruining her aim; the villain's clothing
rippled and she rose to the balls of her feet, but there wasn't enough time for the full effect to hit. Katy whirled to face the incoming fire and saw the
second robot, cannon arm still covered in discharge bleed from the shots.
"Enough is enough!" she barked, triggering another device with her free hand. A pulse of energy rippled out, washing over both robots and their
master in the close confines of the deck. Neither robot seemed to notice, but Katy was gratified to see Jess suddenly go slack and slump, unconscious.
Both robots began to track her with their cannon arms as Katy hastily re-targeted her Thug-A-Pult -- wouldn't do to wake poor, tired Jess from her
well-deserved nap, after all. She yelped in pain as the first blast caught her square in the back, burning away what armor remained and blistering her skin.
The 'bot in the middle of the boat was caught up in her Thug-A-Pult's field and hurled straight up into the burning sail, where it thrashed and jerked
spasmodically for a few moments before crashing back down to the deck in a spray of wood and flaming cloth.
Correction, Katy noted as she spun to deal with the other robot. THROUGH the deck.
Moving with surprising speed for such a bulky, ungainly contraption -- Katy's technogeek heart ached at the sight of such crude-looking handiwork -- the
robot leaped forward and seized her by her left ankle. Katy barely had time to register the horizon changing position on her before the deck leaped up and
gave her a swift kick in the head.
She blacked out for only a moment; before C-64 (according to the stencil on his shoulder pauldron, which Katy noted in a kind of absent daze) could swing her
around or attack her again, he vanished in a spectacular fireball which rocked the entire boat and shoved Katy a few feet closer to the edge, but did not burn
her. The explosion billowed out and slapped Jess awake, then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"HIIIII, Katy! Sorry I'm late!" Yukiyo cried as she plummeted from above in a swan-dive. Just before she would have impacted the deck in a
bone-shattering collision, she abruptly slowed -- as though gravity had changed it's mind about yanking her down to Earth -- and touched down lightly on
sneakered feet. Curiously, she seemed to be coated with a thin layer of frost, though she didn't appear to notice. Katy glanced up, noted the height of
the clouds, did the math, and blinked. No wonder it had taken Yukiyo a while to make her entrance.
"Better late," Katy wheezed as she got back to her feet, "than never. The fireball was you, I take it?"
Yukiyo nodded. Then she turned to the smoldering remains of C-64, which were sparking and twitching, making mechanical groaning noises as the robot struggled
to stand, and eyed it speculatively for a moment. She pursed her lips and blew softly at it.
A roaring twenty-foot jet of flame seared forth, washing over the half-molten robot and finishing the job quickly. Jess uttered an undignified yelp and leapt
to the side, barely avoiding the backwash.
"Oh," Katy breathed, "wow. I *like*."
"Thanks -- oof!" Yukiyo grimaced as a pair of laser bolts staggered her slightly. One came from the robot rising from the ashes of the sail, the
other from Jess, whose face was as red as a boiled lobster -- from anger or from proximity to the fire blast, Katy wasn't sure which.
"I've got the bitch -- you get the bot?" Katy inquired conversationally as her and Yukiyo's eyes met. The older girl smiled again, her
glasses reflecting the fires on the boat and making it seem like flames were dancing in her eyes, and nodded.
"You bet!"
"Let's do it!" They broke apart, dodging another volley in the process, and closed on their respective opponents. Katy quickly lost track of
Yukiyo's progress as she concentrated on her target; the only indication of struggle from that quarter were excited battle cries from Yukiyo and the sounds
made by a frustrated mechanoid being dismembered piece by piece.
Jess snarled -- literally snarled, spittle flying from her lips -- and tensed, her muscles knotting momentarily and standing out starkly against her streaked
and grimy skin. Katy watched in horror as the other woman's flesh rippled, going from burned and bloody to seamless perfection in the blink of an eye, as
a sick blood-red glow burst from her body, fading rapidly and vanishing in moments.
"Robots aren't my only specialty, little girl," Jess sneered.
"Some specialty," Katy commented, raising her Thug-A-Pult. "I'd say you're better suited to junk sculpture."
Jess opened her mouth to respond, but didn't get the chance. Her face took on a startled and dismayed expression as she was lofted a full thirty feet into
the air, then dropped unceremoniously into the ocean with a resounding splash.
"... well, that wasn't what I had in mind," Katy grumbled. She scowled thoughtfully at the Thug-A-Pult, which resembled nothing so much as a
chunky remote control.
"Did you mean to do that?" Yukiyo asked, skipping lightly up the steps from the deck below. Behind her on the lower deck the remains of the second
robot smoked gently; Yukiyo was tossing a still-glowing optic lightly in one hand, almost like a trophy or a souvenir.
"No. She was supposed to land on the deck, so I could beat her up some more," Katy replied.
"Oh."
From the ocean below, a scream of rage sounded. "You will PAY, you little WITCH!"
They rushed to the railing, peering down at a thoroughly soaked and bedraggled Buffer Overflow, treading water and spluttering and coughing after her
unexpected diving practice.
"I could fry her...?" Yukiyo suggested hopefully.
"Tempting," Katy replied, then shook her head ruefully as the villain vanished in a flare of light.
They turned and surveyed the wreckage. Two melted warbots lay in ruin, and the once-pristine sailboat was listing and wallowing in the water. From below a
merry burbling arose as one or more holes allowed water to gush into the hull, and thick streamers of black smoke rose from multiple locations. The flag which
had been flying from the mast was now riddled with holes -- stray laser blasts, Katy assumed -- and the mast itself looked like someone had taken a bite out of
it at one point.
"I think we broke her boat," Yukiyo observed. Katy burst out laughing.
"By the way, Katy?" Yukiyo continued, pushing her glasses up on her nose and looking innocently at the sky. "Your bikini is, um, very
nice."
Katy glanced down and went red to the roots of her hair. Her armored vest was hanging down around her waist like a second skirt, the back having been burned
completely away by multiple laser blasts. Her flightsuit was thus exposed, and while it covered everything it needed to, it was still more revealing than she
preferred. She hastily dug through her pouches until she found the sweater she was looking for, then pulled it on. Yukiyo busied herself looking through the
optic at everything except Katy, while a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Katy finished rearranging her clothing, then blew a sigh. "Well, I think we're done here for now. She got away, but it'll probably be a while
before she gets more robots, at least."
"What about your friend? Is he going to be okay?"
"Oh! Yes." Katy grinned. "Turns out she wasn't as clever as she thought. The doctors were able to pull the explosive out of his chest
before she could set it off, and she didn't even know they'd done it."
"That's wonderful!"
"Yeah. Jeremy's a good guy." Katy paused as the boat trembled and dropped a few inches. "Maybe we should be going?"
"I think you're right. Race you to the ice cream parlor!" Yukiyo zoomed away with Katy in close pursuit, laughing.
"That's not fair, you had a head start!" As she was left farther behind, Katy let out a plaintive cry:
"Hey, wait a minute! WHICH ice cream parlor?!"
"I see your... outing... was not without incident, miss."
Katy grimaced and twisted her head, trying without success to get a closer look at the itching, burning portion of her back, where the laser blasts had struck.
She spared a moment to direct a half-hearted glare at Craig. "You could help here, y'know," she said in irritation.
"I would dearly love to," he replied. His hands were clasped at the small of his ramrod-straight back; she couldn't see his face, since he was
facing into the other room, but she thought she could hear the hint of a smile. "If miss would be so kind as to put on a shirt, perhaps? Or step away
from the mirror."
Katy blinked and turned her head to regard the full-length mirror in the closet-sized space that served as her changing booth. "Don't be so
stuffy," she said, ignoring the blush that sprang to her cheeks. "My back -hurts-."
Even as she spoke she was struggling into a loose-fitting t-shirt. Craig seemed to possess a sixth sense about when she was and was not acceptably dressed; as
soon as she'd finished, he turned around and began to minister to her back.
"I recommend you sleep on your stomach or side tonight," he said quietly as he applied burn cream.
"Mm-hmm," Katy replied. "Craig?"
"Yes, miss?"
"Keep an eye out for this Overflow joker, please? I don't know how she found Jeremy, and that worries me. A lot." She paused for a moment.
"I don't think we've seen the last of her."
Evening, Port Oakes, Rogue Isles.
"Jess, what did you DO to them?! They're WRECKED!"
"Just fix them, Timothy. Fix them immediately. I don't care how, I don't care what parts you need, just fix them. You'll find funds in your
account already."
Timothy -- a pale, scrawny geek with a nervous tic under one eye and hands that seemed almost comically oversized against his bony frame -- eyed her
speculatively. Jess frowned at him. She knew what would be next, and forestalled it by raising her hand decisively even as Timothy opened his mouth to speak.
"No." That one word was packed with meaning. "The terms are unchanged."
The little man shrugged and made a show of putting his hands in his pockets. "Well, I don't know that I can help you, then," he said.
"I've got other customers, you know, and seems to me you need me more than I need -- glrrk!"
"You were saying? Do continue, please; it sounded most interesting." Jess folded her arms and smiled sweetly at her hardware geek, who dangled
helplessly from the manipulator claw of her sole remaining warbot -- the same one who'd remained safely behind with a teleport relay beacon to drag her out
if things went south. Which they had. Dismally. "You may let him breathe, Pedro," she said, as if an afterthought.
PDP-10 relaxed his claw enough for air to wheeze through Timothy's neck. The man gasped and kicked, fingers digging frantically at the steel around his
throat. Satisfied that he wouldn't expire immediately, Jess moved forward in the dim warehouse that served Timothy as a workshop. Her eyes caught his,
and she could see the sudden fear in his gaze.
"Let us be perfectly clear on this, Timothy. Our relationship is one of mutual benefit. You supply the hardware, as is your specialty; I supply the
software, as is mine. Your 'other customers' wouldn't exist if it weren't for me. Or have you forgotten how badly your creations fared before
I came along?" She paused as a thought struck her. "While we're on the subject, your implant did not work as advertised. I find that very
disappointing, Timothy."
Moving to stand beside him, where he couldn't easily kick her should he suddenly become suicidal, she reached out and trailed one fingernail lightly down
his cheek. "Finally, if you ever question our arrangements like this again, I'll let Pedro here demonstrate how ... versatile... his programming
really is." She turned his head to face her squarely. "Now, if you understand and agree to these terms, we can continue as if this unpleasantness
never happened."
She crossed back to the crate she'd been sitting on before and resumed her perch. "Do we have an understanding?"
Timothy nodded -- or at least, jerked his chin up and down frantically, being unable to move his head easily at the moment.
"Very good. Pedro, you heard the man. He's going to play nice."
PDP-10 turned Timothy and regarded the man with red-glowing optics from a distance of about two inches. It set him back on the floor and released its grip
slowly, then backed away with surprising stealth for a machine that large.
Timothy coughed and rubbed at his throat. "I'll rebuild them tonight," he said, staring at the floor between the toes of her feet.
"Good man," Jess replied, standing and gently raising his face to look at her. First the stick, then the carrot; it worked well with his type.
"I look forward to seeing your latest. A... pleasure, as always, Timothy," she said softly, simultaneously healing the bruise around his neck that
Pedro had left there.
His eyes widened as her powers played along his skin, and he trembled. She smiled, and left him standing there.
--sofaspud--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs