Dan and Priest walked down the hallway, having secured Dirk in his cell. “So isn’t it dangerous for us to be here? Shouldn’t we worry about running into our future selves or
something?” The larger man asked.
“Nah, most of your group are retired or. . .” Hearn stopped, his eyes looking away from the man.
“Oh. I. . .see.” Priest’s eyes dropped as he touched a device on his shoulder that monitored his bodily functions. He noticed a large glass case at the end of the hall. “What’s that?” He asked.
“Eh?” Hearn responded.
<Dan? There’s a problem. . .>
“Grife, what is it now, Jym?”
*************************
Persephone was in her room, administering to her plants. The bizarre looking flora of violet-black blossoms with red needles and shoots, which gave off a pungent, almost spice
like aroma. As she tended to them, speaking and nuzzling them, at times it seemed almost as if her face became close in color and texture to the plants.
Carl Quinn, the Vanguardian known professionally as the Harlequinn, entered the room and softly walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning in to her. His red, white, and black harlequin design outfit a bizarre juxtaposition against her elaborate violet-black gown. “I do love you, you know.” He said softly his greasepaint covered lips next to her ear.
“Of course you do. It is the nature of the harlequin to love death.” She said almost absentmindedly, tending to her plants, as if barely noticing him.
“Why do you do this?” He asked with a sigh.
“Do what?” She said, as she turned in his grip to face him.
“Pull away from me. Every time it seems we get closer, you retreat again. . .”
“Carl,” She said, silencing him by putting a hand to his cheek and wiping away a small bit of the greasepaint there. “You know what I am. You know who and what my parents were.”
“Yes.”
“We’ve been over this. You, although a meta, are still mortal. I am not. You will grow old. You’ll die. . .” She looked away from his gaze. “I can’t. . .”
Gripping her chin with his hand, he lifted her head back to face him. “I can.” He said.
“Apologies for interrupting, but Dan’s called an emergency meeting. You’re needed in conference room A now!” Phil Smith’s thoughts seared into the minds of the two, a side
effect of the pure power the mentalist possessed, rather than an attempt to invade their thoughts.
“I hate telepaths. . .” Quinn stated loudly as he opened the door way to the hall and Smith floated past, his white robes trailing behind him, his body ever in the lotus position. His head turned to face Quinn and he answered without speaking, “Nature of the job. You know this.” before floating on down the hallway.
**********************
Dirk Bell sat in his cell, the lights turned off. He didn’t move. “I know you?” He asked after a few moments.
“You did. Once.” Nuriko’s voice answered from the darkness.
“For most people, once is enough.” Dirk answered without looking up.
“What happened to you? What is it that made you this way?” She asked, kneeling down to get a closer look at his shadowed face. “Why do you do these things to yourself?”
“LISTEN!” He shouted, jerking his head upwards, his eyes flashing with anger and hate. “What and who I am is my business! Got it? I don’t need one of Huerta’s head shrink
mind games in here, trying to get into my skull, ok? They want my secrets? They can send Smith in here to pull ‘em from my head when I’m gone! Understood, sister?”
“I understand.” She said flatly, standing and walking away.
He jumped up and pounded on the plastiglass partition. “THEY’RE NOT DOING TO ME WHAT THEY DID TO THE REST OF THE WORLD!! I’LL FIGHT YOU TILL THE END! DIRK BELL IS A FREE MAN! YOU HEAR ME! A FREE MAN!!!!”
*********************
Nuriko, Persephone, Harlequinn, and Phil entered the meeting room and joined the other members of Vanguard Prime and the time lost Vanguardians. The two groups had mixed
freely in this time, save for Prime members Gorgon and Airwalker who stood off to the back, their arms folded and their eyes watching the new arrivals suspiciously.
“It is a trap. They are spies sent by Earthgov to infiltrate us.” Gorgon began, his heavy, Italian accent mimicing his “father’s.”
“Maybe.” Brian Montag answered. He was in no mood to talk. His eyes remained fixed upon Grissom, who sat at the table, his head down as Nuriko tended to his jaw.
Dan and Priest entered the room and Dan casually took a seat at the head of the table, propping his feet up on it. “Okay, Jym, what’ve you got?”
A holographic display of Earth flared to life above the table and began rotating as the AI pinpointed several areas around the world. <We have massive chronal refluxes flaring up in various areas. These refluxes are causing several temporal disturbances and creating
mass hysteria.>
“What kind of disturbances?”
<Dogs and cats living together, the dead rising, WWI biplanes in dogfights with flying
saucers. . .>
“Nothing good ever came from a saucer. . .” The Confessor offered enigmatically.
<Various people phasing in and out and being replaced with other versions of themselves,
barbarian hordes attempting to conquer skyscrapers, dinosaurs in bikinis. . .>
“What?”
<What what?>
“Did you just say. . .dinosaurs. . .”
<In bikinis.>
“Are you serious, Jym?”
<I’m not making this up, Dan.>
“Fine, fine. What’s causing all this?”
<Well, at the source of each chronal reflux there appear to be several large, black
pyramids.>
Paragon’s face went white. “They’ve found us.”
“This is not good.” Chance added as Tora placed an arm around Paragon.
“Okay, get the various embassies online and scramble the reserves. We’ve got work to do.” Dan Hearn’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at Paragon and the past Vanguardians.
Something was going on. And he didn’t like it much.
