The Wounded World, Part 3

by:

Aladdin

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Rating: G	Add Review	Added: 06/06/2007
Complete: no
Synopsis:	Mantra has been misplaced in time and thus finds herself days in the future. But it is a future that seemingly does not remember the world that she has come from. Even so, the people that she cares most about exist there and are in grave danger -- at the very moment in which Mantra feels least able to help them.
Categories:	Mind Transfer, Mind Possesion  Pop Culture  SciFi
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Mantra is the creation of Michael W. Barr. Mantra and other characters originally introduced in Malibu Comics are the copyrighted properties of Marvel Comics, Inc. All opening chapter quotes are from the poetry of William Blake.



THE WOUNDED WORLD

Part Three

By Aladdin

A story of Mantra

Chapter 12

"Dating the NM-E"

"And mutual fear brings peace
Till the selfish love increase.
Then cruelty knits a snare
And spread his nets with care."

The idea of a schoolgirl running headlong into danger bothered me, but I was hemmed in. All I could do was monitor communications and take in the play-by-play reports coming in from Greg Tunney.

It had been almost six o'clock when I'd contacted Lauren. Five minutes later a new update from Tunney let us know that he had released NM-E. The robot, according to the report, had crossed the mall tarmac like a great stalking insect. The first sighting of the metallic thing had spread alarm like wildfire and hundreds of panicked shoppers were fleeing to their cars, or else taking off on foot.

I glanced over my shoulder. Smekes was beaming; the stage seemed set for a major Aladdin coup, one all to his credit. The plan required that the A-team wait several minutes, hoping that Mantra or some other hero would show up to offer battle. Then the squad would rush in with nets and stun guns and the captured hero would be taken away for indoctrination and brainwashing. Should no ultra appear, the team would call NM-E back and move it to an alternate site, a movieplex located about a mile away. I kept my fingers crossed, hoping that Lauren found her mom and had gotten her out. I had already tipped the girl off that if she simply refused to fight there would be no serious consequences.

I kept glancing at the clock. Sometime after eleven, E.D.T. -- only some two hours away -- a Nagasaki-style disaster would take down New York. I wished more and more that I were still Mantra. I don't know exactly what I could have done, since even teleporting across the country to the scene of the imminent disaster would have drained me to the dregs. In such a condition I would have been hard put even to fight with ordinary terrorists, much less something fancy. Worse, I didn't know anyone who could pinch hit for me in such a situation. None of the few ultras whom I could contact mentally lived anywhere near New York. It seemed hopeless.

But was it wise to try to change history? What were the wider consequences? There had to be some. Wouldn't a change that helped one group inevitably harm another? Every act, from the largest and smallest, must surely carry with it unintended consequences. The one good thing about doing nothing was that a person could call the results "fate" and think that they've removed responsibility from one's own shoulders. But wasn't that POV just rationalization?

Maybe, maybe not, but it left me in a dilemma. I've usually honored the maxim "he who hesitates is lost," even though that attitude has steered me into disaster many a time. If I see bad things coming, I'm driven by my nature to try and forestall them. That's POV again. Napoleon's idea of bad things would have been much different from Wellington's....

If things happened as they'd happened before, 'Strike would be one of the night's big losers. I may or may not have already changed history locally, but there was no way for the ripples of my actions to reach New York by 11:00 p.m. Deep down, the thought nagged at me that Tark really would turn renegade. The Night of Terror had driven Prime out of his wits; it could just as easily have tipped 'Strike into some form of destructive dementia.

An electronic voice interrupted my glum reverie. It was Tunney checking in again, this time to tell us that NM-E had made positive contact with his ultra opponent. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. That was the sort of news that I'd least wanted to hear. But wait! Maybe it was some other ultra involved, not Lauren.

"What does the opponent look like, Wrath?" I asked, my throat tight.

"It's not the red-headed chick," he reported. "I'm seeing that bouncy cheerleader-type, the one that your little girl called 'Mantra.' She's coming on strong. That kid's got real power!"

Worst-case scenario! Why was Lauren doing this? She didn't have to, not after my warning. But why do kids her age do ~anything?~

"If we're going to keep that little lady confined, Sarn will have to pump a lot of dope into her," put in Smekes. I hoped no one saw me glare. That was what they were doing to Blythe Ashwin and I hated it. But Ashwin was at least a bona fide criminal. Lauren was guilty of nothing except showing off. I was so angry with the people around me that I might have done something rash had I still possessed Mantra's power.

"The cheerleader just bounced one of NM-E's own electrical bolts back at him..." Tunney was saying. "He's staggered. I'm going to see if his chips can still function normally. 'NM-E -- intercept and detain....'"

Then suddenly he yelled ~"No!"~ and went silent.

I sucked in a breath. According to the history I knew, Lauren had just trashed the equipment that our man on the scene needed to control the world's most destructive killing machine. Even now NM-E robot would be rebooting into its original psychotic program -- a program that Aladdin's techs had only suppressed, not eliminated.

We couldn't expect to receive any more information from Wrath. He'd soon intervene to help Lauren as things spun out of control and would get himself seriously injured for his efforts.

~I couldn't help but think that he wasn't such a bad guy after all.~

"Try to pick up Tunney's lieutenant on the A-team," I instructed the communication officers.

A moment later they'd raised a woman on our dedicated bandwidth.

"Smoke is coming from Wrath's van," she reported in agitation. "Tunney doesn't respond. The ultras are dueling between him and us. I'm sending someone to circle around the fracas and ascertain his status!"

"It doesn't sound like Tunney's made a very competent deployment," Smekes put in sourly, "not if he's already managed to get himself cut off." I gritted my teeth. The director's mind was racing. He already had an inkling that this project wasn't going to turn out well and was fishing around for a scapegoat. He might not be much of a leader, but Smekes had what it takes to survive in bureaucracy politics.

"The witch must have attacked the mission center," I said out loud. "Wrath may have lost control of NM-E, and that could mean slaughter at the Mall." I turned my chair around to face the director. "Mr. Smekes, we'll have to deploy a heavy support team immediately, one authorized to take that monstrosity out -- if necessary."

"Ahhh..?" he seemed confused, unsure, but if he didn't know what to do, I sure did.

"Issue me a car, sir," I told him. "I have to get to Sherman Way and monitor what's happening before the whole mall is wrecked."

Smekes, still looking out of his depth, fell back toward his subordinate. "Give her what she needs," he ordered.

Meanwhile, I kept listening to the com, but nothing was coming in.

"Your van is in the loading zone, ma'am," Smeke's aide called out a minute later.

Without waiting for our director to get second thoughts, I made for the parking lot.

#

The Sunday evening traffic wasn't bad and we made good time toward Canoga Park. Unless I was running ahead of schedule, the battle would be over before I arrived. If Lauren were still all right, I'd pretend to be a hard-nosed cop trying to catch "Mantra" but would let her "outsmart" me and get away. If she wasn't all right -- well, that was something I didn't want to think about.

The Sunday evening traffic only got bad at the point where we steered into the street that flanked the Mall. Every car in the lot was trying to get away from NM-E. More exasperatingly, other motorists were pouring in -- throngs of thrill-seekers hoping to witness a first-class ultra brawl, as reported on the radio. Horns blared as the contrary streams ran foul of each other and brought us all to a jarring halt.

"Out of the car!" I told the team. "We'll go the rest of the way on foot."

I rapidly pulled ahead of my squad, loaded down as they were with rocket launchers and other equipment. No sooner did I reach the parking lot than I saw something like a V-2 rocket soar into the sky. I could tell at a glance that it was NM-E, making his escape by means of some advanced form of jet propulsion.

Thank God that that the robot was out of the picture! The escape of NM- E wasn't good, but at least things weren't any worse than before. At this point I would have been happy just to break even.

I knew the layout of the shopping center from many past visits. Recalling that Lauren's fight with NM-E had come to a crisis inside the Toy World store, I made directly for it. That's when I saw Wrath stagger out of the wreckage, holding his shoulder and limping. I pimpled with gooseflesh. He should have been in much worse shape. History had been changed. But if Tunney was a winner in this crapshoot, was Lauren a loser?

"Tunney," I yelled. "Where's L -- Mantra?"

"Back -- Back in there," he gasped.

I scrambled through a gaping hole in the Toy World wall. Inside, it looked like a herd of buffaloes had run through the aisles using flame- throwers. Broken and scorched toys were strewn everywhere. A headless action figure of Mantra stood upright at my feet and the sight of it gave me pause, if only for a second.

My eyes tearing from the stinging smoke, I scanned the jumble. When someone touched my shoulder I jumped and swung about. Tunney again.

"She's -- she's over there, M-Mrs. Blake. B-Behind those boxes," he stammered.

I went where he pointed and, amid a pile of crumpled cartons, I beheld as bad a sight as I never hoped to see again. It was Lauren, all right. Blood covered her slim body and that peaches-and-cream flesh of hers was torn in many places. The gray-colored magic armor she'd been wearing looked amply scarred, though it had not been broken. It didn't have to be. Her open throat made all the rest of her wounds superfluous.

I cried out in dismay and dashed to the teenager's side. Desperately feeling for a pulse, I detected warmth in her limp arm, but not a hint of life. She hadn't been dead long.

~But dead she was.~

The realization hit me like a blow. Lauren was dead.

"It -- It got outta hand," Tunney was yammering behind me. "She trashed the controls. The thing went wild. The harder she fought, the more lethally it attacked. She was just a kid -- no match for a monster like that. I tried to go berserk and lend a hand, but NM-E knocked me head over heels before I could make a move. By the time the world stopped spinning, it was too late."

I nodded, my voice stolen away. Lauren had admired Mantra; two nights before she had risked everything to save her. She could have been one of the world's greatest ultras, but she hadn't been ready to live up to the risk and responsibility. Why had the girl pitched into such an insane fight in the first place? Was it just bravado? The thought of her grieving parents at her graveside, their faces wet with tears, sliced like a dagger through my breast. How could they -- how could any parent -- bear the sudden, violent death of a child?

And then there was Evie. She would soon know that her friend, the one who had rescued her mother and made happiness possible had been killed in a terrible way.

I shook my head. The next day was going to be unbearable for both the child and me. I didn't want to see Evie cry. Not again. Not so soon.

I felt Tunney's arm around me. I swallowed hard and struggled to get a grip on myself.

"I know. This is bad," he said. "I feel like crying myself."

I closed my lids, shutting out the sight of Lauren. What was I suppose to do now?

I stiffened and raised my head. I'd seen thousands die over the centuries. I had seen countless children die, too. The loss of friends was no new experience, not for me. That was life. That was death. I didn't have the luxury of giving in and falling apart -- not quite yet.

I stood up beside the corpse; Tunney backed off a step. First I had to report in to HQ. My emotions screamed "to hell with headquarters," but I had to act like a strong and steady agent. Helping Gus later on might depend on preserving Aladdin's confidence in me.

Okay then, what first? The perimeter had to be controlled, of course. The girl's body had to be seen to. When Sarn and Smekes learned who this new Mantra had been, they would know that she had had a suspicious link to Eden Blake. I'd have to talk my way out of it, somehow. What else? Tunney. He needed medical attention.

By now some of the other agents began piling into the toy store belatedly, loaded down with weaponry. I turned and faced them, my chin high, my fists clenched. I had a role to play. I had to make my colleagues think that death and destruction couldn't move me. I needed to show that the interests of the Company were all that mattered to agent Eden Blake.

"Send for an ambulance," I told the Aladdin squad. "P-Put up a cordon. Keep every one out until a forensic team has done its work. Don't give any statement to reporters. Don't add anything to what the public doesn't already know. Standard procedure."

"Yes, ma'am," someone said.

#

By the time I got back to HQ it was full darkness and the first word of New York's disaster had hit the airwaves. The news services had all gone crazy. At first there was only incoherence from reporters that were clearly losing it. The situation was made worse by the fact that so many communications centers had been wiped out -- including the New York Times building. The story at first had no shape, no form. Nothing was being broadcast except hysteria. The media's misinformation, fear and paranoia were now spreading across the country. The death of a new and unknown young ultra at a suburban mall in the Los Angeles area was going to pass with almost no notice. Only her friends and family would have the presence of mind to mourn.

I had hoped that in such a confused climate Smekes would let me off without requiring an immediate report, but no such luck. The new director was the consummate officeholder. Mass death wouldn't stop him from crossing every "T" and dotting every "I". The suffering of others never moves the driven careerist type; nothing matters except looking good and shifting blame. And there would be plenty of blame to shift in the Mall fiasco. All the senior personnel on the A-team, along with the ranking members of its local support staff, were ordered to stand by for debriefing, starting with Wrath.

On the other hand, our security level had been downgraded and I was finally given leave to call out. Evie would be with her grandma, I knew, and so dialed accordingly.

"Hello, M-Mom," I said when Barbara Freeman answered.

"You sound awful, Eden. Where on earth have you been?"

I took a deep breath and steadied the tremor in my voice. "I'm at the downtown office. I was able to...to look in on Gus in San Francisco. He was in sedation and we couldn't talk. But a work-related crisis came up while I was there. I didn't have any choice but to pitch in and deal with that, too. We were under a communications shutdown until just now."

"Was it about New York? Eden, what's happening? Are there going to be more attacks?"

"No, I don't think so. We don't know much yet. The New York blast came as a total surprise."

She wanted to know more about Gus, but I fended her off, hinting that it wasn't the right time to go into it.

"A lot of people suffered strange effects Friday night," I said. "Some unknown energy from outer space struck around the Earth and affected not just Gus but a lot of people. We've been trying to get the facts. Maybe the blast in New York was an aftershock, or maybe not. I'll head home and tell you everything I'm allowed to, just as soon as I'm released."

"You should have found some way to talk to Evie before this. You know what a fright she's had. She needs her mother more now than ever."

"I'm sorry. This is government and they do things their own way."

I doubt that satisfied her, but she changed her tone. "Eden, the A.P. was here yesterday, wanting to know all about what happened Friday. You hardly told me anything before rushing off, and Evie couldn't say very much without starting to cry. I did get the idea from her that you two weren't together for most of the night. What happened?"

"There's not much to tell," I evaded. "We'll speak soon." I wondered if I could make Mrs. Freeman believe what I'd told Tunney -- that I'd laid unconscious in an empty lot until morning. "Is Evie there?" I asked, glad to change the subject.

Mother summoned the little girl to the phone.

"Mommy!"

It felt good to hear her voice; it was just the thing that my frayed nerves needed. "Darling, I wanted you to know that I was all right and that I'm going to see you soon."

"Are you still in San Frisco, Mommy?"

"No, darling. I'm back at work, not even an hour away from you. I'm waiting to talk to the boss, but after that I'll come and stay with you."

"You're really okay?"

"I'm very tired, but I'm perfectly okay."

"Did you get your ---?"

I thought she wanted to ask if my powers had come back, so I quickly interrupted. "Shhh, honey. No, that didn't happen. But, please, remember that we never talk about important family things like that over the phone."

"Okay. I'm sorry, Mommy. Did you hear how a super bomb landed on New York? That's on the right side of the map, isn't it?"

"Yes, Button. It's terrible news. Try not to think about it."

"And they said on TV that a monster attacked the mall were we always shop. Mommy, what's happening? Is the world coming to an end?"

"No, I don't think so, Precious. It's one of those funny weeks when everything bad seems to happen at once."

Apparently Aladdin hadn't released information that "Mantra" was dead or else Evie would have brought it up already. I didn't want to give her the awful news before I absolutely had to. She'd need lots of hugs and kisses to pull her through.

"Did you find out where Gus is?" she asked eagerly.

"Yes, I did. The doctors gave him something to make him sleep. I'll have to go back and talk to him later, after he wakes up."

"You're going to go away again so soon? It's such a long way!"

"I know, sweetie. I think we'll both have to go up to San Francisco next time and stay there for a while. Then we'll be able to visit Gus every day."

"Me, too?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

"It must be awful to be in jail."

She didn't know the half of it. "I'll tell you all about Gus when I get home. Don't be scared if I'm not with you before bedtime. Just get some sleep and then we'll see if you feel well enough to go to school in the morning."

"I had nightmares last night, Mommy. I had to sleep with Grandma I was so afraid. My hands shake sometimes, too, and I can't make them stop."

"My poor baby. You were frightened more than any little girl should ever be. I know a good doctor. I'm sure she can cure that nasty shaking. I'll see you soon, Pumpkin. All my kisses. Please put Grandma back on the line."

"Eden?" came Barbara's voice.

"I'm worried about Evie. I'll have to take her to a child psychologist."

"I was going to suggest that."

"I know one from college. She's working in Frisco now. She's the best."

"Okay." Mom sounded just about as drained as I felt.

"Just do whatever you can to keep Evie calm," I said. "It may be best to turn off the news for the rest of the night. She doesn't need any more bad dreams." Most of all, I didn't want her to hear that "Mantra" was dead -- not yet. "Play some cartoon videos until she's ready for bed."

"I will," she said distractedly, and then added, "The news is making it sound like the whole of New York's been destroyed and millions are dead."

"No, it can't be that bad. The main business district was hardest hit. The first helicopter shots make it look like about a quarter of the metropolitan area was scorched. We'll know more after the search and rescue teams are able to go in by daylight, but there wouldn't have been many people working downtown so late on a Sunday night. The toll is going to be terrible, but not nearly as bad as the early estimates are going to make it sound."

"If you say so. But do you think L.A. will be next? Somebody on CBS was saying that the ultras might have done it -- and there's more ultras here than anywhere else."

"Nobody knows anything for sure," I replied, "but I don't think it was the ultras. The networks never get these things right. See what talk radio has to say about it in the morning."

"I will, darling. Just get home soon. Evie needs you."

"I'll try. Bye."

"So you don't think ultras are involved?" broke in a strained, but mellow voice. I knew it for Wrath's.

I put down the receiver and turned toward the entry. He was wearing civilian attire and a snowy sling supported his right arm. His expression was tight and grim with consternation.

"Just an opinion," I said with a sigh. "In cases like this, first impressions are almost always wrong."

"A couple days ago I wouldn't have agreed with that, not about ultras anyway. Now I'm not so sure."

I forced a smile. "You don't look so bad now that all that blood's washed off. How are you feeling?"

"I'm still a high on painkillers and my head's spinning. I got some abrasions and torn ligaments, but over-all it's not that bad. Things could be a lot worse."

I knew that they ~could~ have been.

But the situation was bad enough. And I had no expectation that they were going to get better.



Chapter 13

"Chaos and Conspiracy"

"The villain at the gallows tree When he is doomed to die To assuage his misery In Virtue's praise does cry."

"What aren't you sure about?" I asked Wrath.

He shrugged.

"Your debriefing is over?"

The big man nodded. "I told Smekes about everything I saw and did. He's hammering on Coburn now."

I nodded sympathetically and motioned him to a nearby chair. "Is there anything fresh coming in from New York?"

He shook his head. "Smekes there's a possible ID on 'Strike' as one of the perpetrators. He and some others were spotted on the south edge of Central Park. Of what's ~left~ of Central Park."

"Is the source reliable?"

The spotters who saw them came from an army battalion that's been on duty there ever since the Terrordyne attack on the Statue of Liberty. They'd reached the scene in under ten minutes."

~So that shoe has finally dropped~ I thought.

"It's hard to believe that 'Strike could be involved," I said slowly. "For a while we had a lot of reports coming in about him. He's always been wild, but never a criminal or terrorist. But lately there's been nothing. What was he up to last?"

"A fight in a cathedral last winter," said Wrath. "He's been laying low for some reason. Some people thought he might have been dead. Now he turns up running with a bad outfit -- mass murderers."

This Tunney was obviously no dummy; he was keeping up on things pertinent to his job. My own memory wasn't as foggy as I pretended. Back on my Earth, just before the Godwheel incident, Warstrike had fought an ultra-powered strong-arm man called Blind Faith in the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels. He was whisked off to the Godwheel shortly afterwards and had a mental breakdown while there. Once back on Earth, he went on a long ocean cruise and remained in an inactive funk until I got in touch with him in July. The latter encounter probably hadn't happened in this reality.

"All we've got on 'Strike is a sighting to put him in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?" I asked. "Maybe he wasn't a perp; maybe he was just checking things out, just like the soldiers were. And why would one of the good guys go that far wrong? It doesn't figure."

"I tell you, lady, the more I get to know the ultras, the less I understand them."

I thought it best just to leave it at that, but Tunney wasn't finished yet.

"Mrs. -- ~Eden,~ did you ever notice how many ultras are just kids?"

Odd question. I regarded the man keenly. "Yes," I replied carefully. "An awful lot of them seem to be."

"Can grade-schoolers be part of the 'vast ultra conspiracy,' like the First Lady likes to call it?"

I grimaced. "Not very likely. My son was no conspirator. He just thought he was too ugly to be loved and when he got the chance, he started taking it out on everyone around him."

"I could say that anyone with too much power is dangerous, but that would include me."

"How do you mean?" I asked. I was aware that the original Wrath had ultra strength and agility, along with some fancy wetware upgrading. But also recalled that Lauren had described this guy as having done something very weird.

"I can work myself up into a kind of 'berserk' mode," Wrath explained. "It multiplies my strength and the crazier I let myself get, the stronger I become. But I always go nuttier than I want to. All to often I forget what I'm doing and demolish more than just the target."

"'Wrath' is the perfect codename for you then," I jested lamely.

The smile that Tunney gave back seemed forced. "That may be. You know, Eden, there's always been this theory that the ultras are all part of some master plan. Maybe the Illuminati are behind them, maybe it's the neo-Nazis. The trouble is, whenever I hit the streets as Wrath, I don't run into any of those Nazis-types. Mostly, the ultras are youngsters. What am I supposed to do? Kill wet-behind-the-ears kids or lock them up just because some kind of accident's made them different from the rest of us?" He gave a shudder. "It'll be a long time before I get that girl who died off my mind. I talked to her last Friday and she didn't seem like such a bad kid, just a teenybopper playing dress-up. A girl her age should be ~grounded~ for pulling bone-headed, dangerous stunts, not --."

"I can't argue with that!" I put in abruptly, not wanting to him to make me relive Lauren's death.

"It's going to be hard to sleep for the next few nights, I'm afraid."

"I'm feeling pretty bad myself," I admitted. "I should have let this field agent stuff go hang and stayed behind my CRT. It keeps a person's hands clean."

Wrath smiled mirthlessly. "At least you've got some technical skills. I'm just a fighter. That's all I'm good at."

I understood his glumness better than he knew. I wanted to tell Tunney that we're all more complex than we seem, better than we believed ourselves to be, but I held back. Wrath and I were probably a lot alike. The thirst for excitement is a powerful addiction. Both of us had hooked up with outfits that helped to bring out the worst in us. When one goes down that road it's hard to come back.

At that moment a female staffer poked her head into the lounge and called my name. "Mrs. Blake, Mr. Smekes is waiting to see you now."

Well, this was it. I muttered a goodbye to Wrath and followed her out.

#

For a quarter hour I tried to sound like I was holding nothing back, even while in the act of dodging around the truth.

"There's something you're not saying," Smekes suddenly remarked.

~Oops. Maybe the guy wasn't as dumb as he looked.~

"It's that girl's death," I said. "I've got children of my own. I can't help but think about her parents and what this will do to them. Kids grow up knowing that someday they're expected to bury their mom and dad. But when a parent has to bury a child...." I shook my head. "Well, that's...that's something else."

"Yes, Eden," he commiserated without making it sound sincere, "I understand that. Both your son and daughter were in grave danger only recently."

I nodded, not wanting to take about it with the likes of Smekes.

"You had an interesting connection to this short-lived new Mantra, I've discovered."

I returned him a curious frown. I had to tough it out. Without Mantra's powers I didn't have a prayer of getting out of the HQ alive if he was determined to arrest me. I could almost see myself in a cell next to Blythe Ashwin with Sarn on the other side of the bars, laying it on hard with the pain button.

~Step One. Feign ignorance.~ "I don't understand, Mr. Smekes."

"We've identified her as Lauren Sherwood, a sixteen year old neighbor of yours. She was actually one of your baby sitters. That's very suspicious."

~Step Two is incredulity. Make it look good, Lukasz~

"Lauren? Are you m--? Are you ~serious?"~

"I'm quite serious. And I don't think it's a coincidence that she's been a frequent visitor to your house."

~You don't, huh? I wish to hell you did.~

"What do you mean, sir?" I saw no use in panicking. Nerve is like grease in a tight spot; panic is like sand.

"You're an Aladdin agent. Your business is to keep a watchful eye on ultras. We have reason to think that an ultra conspiracy has successfully planted one of its own people inside your home. Their aim was to maintain surveillance on us, the watchers."

I blinked. ~ Smekes was living down to my expectations. Step Three was to encourage him to choose the wrong road, or any road at all so long as it doesn't leave me road kill.~

"Lauren was a spy? Are you sure?"

"Maybe you can help us become more sure. How did you first meet Lauren Sherwood?"

"Well, sir, more than a year ago, my mother hired Kelly Cantrell, a neighborhood girl, to sit with the kids. It worked out and Kelly came over quite often after that. When she got a new job at one of the strip malls she introduced me to a friend of hers from high school. It was Lauren Sherwood, who was interested in getting more sitter work."

"And this girl did not appear suspicious?"

"I got some references from some other families she'd worked for and she seemed to be a sensible and responsible young person. Her family had loved in our neighborhood for years. I tried her out and both of the kids seemed to like her. She did the job competently and didn't cause any problems."

~Actually, the young lady had gone seriously Dark Side once and nearly killed me, but Smekes didn't need to know about that.~

"I just received some faxes the people we've assigned to check Sherwood out."

"Yes, sir?"

~Sheesh!~ Lauren probably hadn't reached room temperature yet and Aladdin was already shifting over her remains.

"What have they turned up?"

"That she's a very interesting case. For one thing, she's changed physically during the year that passed between her last two yearbook pictures. She hardly looks like the same girl. Didn't you think such a thing was strange?"

"Well, of course I did, to a degree. But kids a lot of kids grow up fast and fill out fast. I never got any idea that her friends or teachers were concerned about it, so I just took it in stride. Anyway, I've seen her so often over the last year that any gradual wouldn't be all that apparent."

What I told him was mostly the truth, but I hadn't been as unobservant as I'd claimed. Lauren had been plain, flat-chested, and skinny when I'd met her. At the age of fifteen she looked more like thirteen. Now, at sixteen, she'd filled out strikingly. I had never seen a normal kid change so much in such a short time. Now, looking back, I wondered if magic had been responsible. After all, the Prime was able to alter his appearance, as the whole world had found out when he suddenly decided to become 'Rogue Prime,' a stubble-faced biker-type. Before her major empowerment, her innate talent for sorcery might have been working on her in subtle ways.

I glanced up attentively; Smekes was still talking. "What you say disappoints me, Mrs. Blake, but it's true that you were not a trained agent back then. Possibly young Sherwood made a deal with the devil."

"The devil, sir?"

"Figuratively speaking, of course. Isn't it possible that some ultras can bestow beauty, just as others can defy gravity? Such an enticement might make an ugly duckling like Lauren Sherwood fall in with their plans."

"Who would ever think that babysitting could pay such -- large dividends?" I remarked.

Smekes refrained from smiling, preferring to play the world-wise professional. "Small levers move huge objects, Mrs. Blake. The Nazis destroyed the entire Allied intelligence network in Holland by using just one low-ranked double agent as their tool. A babysitter would make an exceptionally good spy. She'd often be in her target's home -- much of the time alone with the children asleep. You say you liked Miss Sherwood. She no doubt would have tried hard to keep on your good side, just so long as she needed access to your house."

"Have you deduced who exactly she was working for, sir?"

He didn't take the bait, but instead asked, "What do you know about the girl's parents?"

"Not very much, I'm afraid. I think her father is in accounting. He and his wife separated last year. Lauren's always been reluctant to talk about the reason why.

"I think her mother is in advertising," I added belatedly. "She kept on living with her father, but, as far as I could see, her relations with her mother are very friendly."

Then I had an idea. Telling Smekes something that he'd soon find out regardless would make me look good and it couldn't do additional harm. "Now that you've opened my eyes, sir, I realize that there was something about Lauren that might have been significant."

"What is that?"

"She was a tremendous fan of Mantra."

He silently chewed on that crumb for a few seconds. "It fits. She was calling herself 'Mantra' when overhead at the Mall Friday night. According to Tunney, by that time your daughter knew of her as Mantra, too. It can't be a coincidence that Lauren Sherwood should step into the original Mantra's shoes only a month after we captured her heroine. Would she have done that if she didn't know that the real Mantra was our prisoner? No doubt her sources of information are excellent. I'm starting to wonder if the Sherwoods were her real parents and whether Lauren wasn't actually related to Mantra -- maybe even her daughter."

"I wouldn't know about that," I said. "As for Mantra fan activity in Canoga Park, I know of a registered club with four steady members."

"Did Lauren belong?"

"No. I take it she didn't get along with the other girls."

"An alienated loner? A troubled, anti-social type?"

"Not that I noticed. She just seemed to be more reserved and studious than most girls her age."

~I was prettying up the picture. When I first met Lauren she was a bookish nerd with few friends other than Kelly.~

Smekes spent the next couple of minutes typing something into his keyboard. Then he looked up, triumph writ large in his smirk.

"I just searched our data base for the name 'Kelly Cantrell.' It seems that she's been observed in contact with the ultra Prime. That's not something typical of girls her age. I'm going to have her put under observation. Her movements and communications may lead us to a whole nest of ultra conspirators."

A nice, ordinary high school girl like Kelly was in our database? For a long time my frame of reference had been the Middle Ages. But now, at the end of the Twentieth Century, computers had wiped out most people's privacy.

That made me sorry that I'd been forced to bring up Kelly's name. Aladdin could play rough even with children, Gus being a case in point. Kelly might soon be taken into custody for questioning. Did she know anything that could compromise Prime? Infatuated teenaged boys could be so indiscreet.

"It's interesting that you should mention Mantra," Smekes said. "We've received reports that Prime has had some sort of association with our prisoner -- as does the mercenary ultra 'Strike. At one occasion, all three of them were observed acting together against the Company's interests. 'Strike has been implicated in the New York disaster and it makes one wonder whether Prime's might not be involved also, even if behind the scenes."

Pretty soon every ultra not already in prison would be on Aladdin's suspect list for destroying downtown New York.

"But let's stick to the matter at hand," the director hurried on. "It's possible that Kelly was spying on you with Prime as her contact. She could have been nudged aside when young Sherwood was sent in to take her place. As a powerful ultra, Sherwood would have been much better suited to the role. Whether Miss Cantrell is still associated with conspirators remains to be discovered. Who knows? She might turn out to be an ultra herself."

~Ohhh, this whole thing was spiraling out of control.~

Smekes made a show of looking over his shoulder. "We'll have to proceed cautiously. "The ultras have already infiltrated Aladdin itself with Blythe Ashwin. She might not be the only one." He frowned thoughtfully. "We'll have to find out if Ashwin has information about other ultras breaching Aladdin security. It now looks like might not have been working alone."

~My heart sank. I hated the idea of anyone, even Blythe Ashwin, getting tortured by paranoids chasing phantoms.~

"What do we have that's solid so far, sir? That Prime might be some sort of espionage ringleader?" I was repackaging Smeke's own words and shoveling them back at him. Though making myself sound like a kindred spirit might get me somewhere, I was of two minds about encouraging Smekes in his fantasies. It might make trouble for Kevin Green down the road.

"That's hard to say. We'll have to carefully consider that possibility."

"I don't think Lauren or Kelly could have found anything in my house that would be helpful to an enemy," I said. "I've always been scrupulous about security."

"Might you have let anything slip to your son or daughter, or your mother?"

I shook my head. "They all think that I work for the CIA and I've always refused to answer questions about work. I know the manual."

"That goes for your brothers and your personal friends, too?"

"Yes. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Very commendable." The words were intended to sound reassuring, but his tone spoiled the effect.

At that point Smekes abruptly stopped speaking. His expressionless eyes remained fixed on me and I recognized his change of manner as an old interrogator's trick, having met plenty of old interrogators. He wanted to make me sweat, to make me think that I had somehow aroused his suspicions. Under pressure a person might babble out some incriminating reference. The poor fellow must have been reading too many company manuals. I didn't react at all.

He waited until, presumably, he started to feel silly and then said, "I'm putting some additional people into Canoga Park to turn up what they can about Sherwood. You'd be of great assistance, considering it's your own back yard."

~"Ahh,~ sir," I said hesitatingly, "working on the Sherwood matter would create a problem for me. I was thinking about closing my house and asking HQ for a transfer to San Francisco. My son is being held at Alcatraz and I want to be able to visit him as often as possible."

He frowned. "You've talked this over with Sarn?"

"Not yet. I saw her only briefly, and that was before it had become clear what exactly the situation was. The time we spent together almost entirely devoted to planning the deployment of NM-E."

He nodded. "I see. Well, your wish is an understandable one. Dr. Sarn intends to stay in San Francisco for some while. She engaged in an important project that's best carried out in our facilities there. I know that the two of you have worked closely ever since your Spear of Destiny coup. If the doctor signs off on your transfer, well and good." He stood up and extended his hand.

I rose and accepted the shake.

"I was wondering, sir."

"Yes?"

"What will the public be told? Will Lauren Sherwood be buried as an ultra, or as some local girl who accidentally got killed during a random outbreak of violence?"

"That hasn't been decided," he replied soberly. "I would prefer the latter. If all goes well, in a month no one will remember that there'd ever been a 'new Mantra'."

"Yes, sir, and calling the death an accident might make things easier for her parents, too. If they think their daughter died because of a simple accident, her loss might be easier to bear."

"Oh, yes, her parents," Smekes said absently. "We certainly mustn't make things unnecessarily hard on America's bedrock."

I felt immensely relieved to have the interview over. A little of Smekes goes a long way.

#

Once in the outer corridor, I leaned back against the wall, my eyes closed. I'm a hard case, usually, but what I'd been going through over the last few days had worn me down. Gus was suffering. I had failed to protect Lauren Sherwood and had done nothing to prevent Prime, Warstrike -- excuse me -- 'Strike -- and Kelly Cantrell from looming large on Aladdin's radar. Also, I'd come across as being naïve about Kelly and Lauren. But, damn it, Smekes was wrong about them in almost every particular!

Suddenly someone rushed past my alcove in a flash blue -- traveling ~backwards.~

To my dismay, I realized that it was no speeding ultra -- just an ordinary a man in a business suit. Time was going unhinged again!

The hall was suddenly a beehive of activity, every motion wildly accelerated. I saw Coburn and then Wrath dash in the direction of Smeke's office -- in retrograde -- and then come out again, still retrograde. After that things started happening too quickly for the eye to follow.

I covered my face and awaited my fate. Whatever power had me in its grip was about to would move me across the chessboard again. How had this started? Why did it keep happening?

And how long could I stay sane living this way...?





Chapter 14

"The Night of Terror"

"Alas for woe, alas for woe, alas for woe, They cry and tears forever flow."

When the world finally stopped spinning, I found myself leaning against a kitchen counter.

~And it happened to be my own kitchen counter.~

Feeling unsteady, I braced my weight against a cabinet and stared out the window. It was definitely sunset, but the sky appeared off-color. The trees and houses looked strange, too, as they often do when the heavens darken with storm. I shook myself hard, trying to banish my bleariness. What was the date and how much time had I gained -- or lost? I shifted unsteadily towards the calendar, which, under a Norman Rockwell schoolhouse painting, showed the month of September.

That didn't tell me a lot.

~Wake up, Lukasz.~

The kitchen clock had a digital date as well as the time of day and read 7:16 p.m., September 15.

I frowned. The date meant something, but....

Then it hit me -- ~like a ballista bolt!~

~"Mommy!"~

Evie's shrill cry had echoed from the hall. I dashed into the living room. Seeing the corridor to the bedrooms empty, I started toward Evie's room. After only two strides, I stumbled to a halt.

~Idiot! This is the Night of Terror!~

My heart leaped to my throat. Could it -- the terrible thing -- have happened already? Without a pause for thought, I projected my wizard- sense into the darkened wing and it returned a mystic impression like a hot puff of dragon breath. Something as psychically prickly as a sea urchin and as vast as a whale was permeating every corner of my surroundings. I felt like I'd gotten a foul whiff of Boneyard's overpowering miasma, only this manifestation came across as much stronger. I'd encountered nothing exactly like it, other than the time I'd confronted Loki, the Norse god of evil, in the dead city of Vahdala.

~Just a cotton-picking minute!~

I had actually been using magic. That meant --

In the wink of the eye I was wearing my golden armor! Whatever had robbed Mantra of her magical powers in the alternate future that I'd just returned from hadn't occurred here -- not yet.

~Move it, Lukasz! Your and Evie's lives hang on a thread!~

Gus was lurking in his room, expecting me to come in. He would be feeling nothing for me except hate and fury -- and he was wielding the power of a demigod to work out his pique.

I cursed under my breath. Why couldn't I have jumped just ten minutes farther back? That would have given me time enough to get my head on straight and whisk both Gus and Evie away from our accursed house. Now Evie had become Gus's virtual hostage, and Gus was willing to kill to get his own way. I had to stop the boy from injuring anyone, but the direct approach wouldn't work. With his power at its peak, he could eat me for lunch. But neither did I dare be passive, not with Gus posing such danger to the neighborhood. I had changed history before, so why couldn't I change it again? This time, though, I knew the hazards of tampering and would be a damned side more wary!

I couldn't stay where I was. If Gus got tired of lying in wait and came after me, history might repeat itself. If we fought, it had to be on my terms. For now, though, wisdom called for retreat. Reluctantly turning phantom, I darted away through the roof.

~Forgive me, Evie.~

#

In the open air, I hovered indecisively. Gus didn't hate his sister, I knew, and that meant she wasn't in immediate danger. How tempting it was to teleport the little girl to my side, but such heavy usage of my manna would have left me helpless for hours. Gus was bound to come looking for his missing mother and sibling, and so I had to conserve my store of magic for the ultimate confrontation.

Determined to keep an eye on the Blake house, I made for the tallest structure at hand, the Lutheran Church on Jordan. I summoned a warm updraft of late summer air and a gentle geyser bobbed my nearly weightless body all the way up to the lofty steeple.

The ledge there was narrow, but I gripped an ornamental angel that afforded me just enough purchase to prevent my falling. The Blake house, a few blocks away, remained quiet. Even as I clung to the concrete decoration, I clung also to the dogged hope that I wasn't helpless. I possessed the means and the knowledge to change the course of events. True enough, Lauren had died because I'd interfered with what had been a delicate, established flow, but I saw no alternative but to try and help.

The disorientation from my last time-shift was fading and it was becoming easier to focus. If chrono-jumping was going to get harder each time I did it, it wouldn't take many more shifts to reduce me to a basket case. I hoped that wouldn't happen before I got home -- if I ever ~could~ get home.

While trying to formulate a plan, I gazed upwards. The sky still looked odd. It had taken on a faintly glowing, raw-liver hue and, here and there, I saw rippling patches. These reminded me of nothing so much as the Aurora Borealis, but then, even as I stared, a humongous green streak began to congeal above Canoga Park like a ghost materializing.

It was the same streak that Lauren had mentioned. I suddenly realized that I was unconsciously using my wizard-sight. To ordinary people the phenomenon would probably stay invisible. That meant that the energy band possessed some sort of magical component. Well, no surprise there. But it made my hair prickle to see one end of it undulating above our rooftop like a pit viper, while the rest of it arched away, off in a direction that I knew would lead to Heather Parks' home.

Poor Heather! Coven, the four-faced monster, must come into being at the same instant that Gus had been changed. Now, though, with Lauren gone, it was up to me to deal with Coven. And, after that, there would be Necromantra to tackle. Following that...

Wait a minute! Lauren wasn't dead. She ~couldn't~ be. By slipping back into time, I had brought her back to life -- at least from my perspective. And wouldn't the same thing be true of the thousands of strangers fated to die in New York City just two nights hence?

Though I didn't understand it, Lauren's fate just then seemed more important. I had, in fact, an overriding responsibility to help her. The Eden of this world had invited her over and exposed her to danger. I hadn't seen anyone come at the Blake's door so far. I had to locate her and warn her before it was too late. Otherwise Gus would turn his full fury against her and this time she would find no sanctuary inside my cloak-castle! She'd die before her powers could jump-start.

I sprang into the air, desperately scanning the sidewalks below. For once Fate appeared to smile. I spotted Lauren's tow-haired figure below, strolling along Wyandotte Street, a solitary shape under the lampposts that were only now just turning on with the dusk. The babysitter must have heard my cloak fluttering above her head, for she suddenly looked up at me, wide-eyed.

~"Mantra!"~ the girl exclaimed.

My heels hit the pavement hard and, while struggling for balance, I breathlessly muttered: "Lauren, you shouldn't be out tonight! Some kind of wild magic is loose. Go home. You'll be safer there."

"Whoa!" the girl fired back. "The Blake house is just a couple of blocks ahead. Can't I pick up my wages first?"

"You're wages aren't important, not when your life's at stake! I wish I could bodyguard you, but there are too many other things for me to do, and too many other people to help. Now, vamoose!"

"But Mrs. Blake is expecting me. Maybe I could help her protect the kids."

"Eden has enough problems! Another kid to worry about is the last thing she needs. Do her a favor and go home! Your own dad might need protecting, if things get really bad." I didn't think that was true, but hoped that the warning would make her more cooperative.

"Okay," she grimaced, "I'll go home, but I'll call Eden up and tell her just what you just told me. I'll tell her to lock up and hunker down."

I couldn't let her do that. Gus would probably answer the phone and urge to come over. And if I knew Lauren, she'd do it. Gus's motivation might be just a simple wish to impress her, but when she rejected him he'd explode.

"Listen, Lauren, you shouldn't be on the phone tonight. Ah...there's some kind of evil energy in the air and it might infect the telephone lines. You and Mrs. Blake could get cursed!"

~Oh, Lordy, did that sound as dumb to her as it did to me?~

Apparently so. Lauren returned a funny look. "Uh, Mantra, I've got a feeling that there's more, or maybe less, going on around here than you're telling me."

"No more time for arguing, young lady. You're heading home!" I scooped Lauren up into my arms and sprang into the air. Though I fly by a complex method -- one that combines magical levitation with elemental control of the air currents -- the ascent was a rapid one. The girl's surprise stifled all thought of questions and protests. That was to the good, but sterner measures were called for. I had to make sure that the adventurous and inquisitive adolescent would stay out of harm's way for the entire the night.

Consequently, while holding the teen close, I started siphoning away a portion of her bio-energy. And I got more than I bargained for! I'd never had a transfusion like that since I'd tapped into Prime himself. Lauren was a potential ultra, no mistaking that! The energy was building and the moment of her magical empowerment had to be very soon. But I wouldn't let it happen tonight. There were terrible dangers abroad and it was my responsibility to deal with them, not hers.

By the time we'd alighted beside the Sherwoods' welcome mat, the girl was nodding off like a vampire's victim drained of blood. She would probably sleep for a dozen hours. I rang the doorbell and then took off to avoid being seen. I didn't dare to be recognized as Mantra, not while Aladdin had locked Blythe Ashwin away. A departing glance assured me that Mr. Sherwood was helping his rubbery-legged daughter across the threshold. From her weak and sleepy condition, he'd probably surmise that she was coming down with the flu.

Had I changed history enough to save Lauren's life? I hoped so. She'd proven what a fine ultra she'd make. But no schoolgirl was ready to shoulder responsibilities of a super-heroic size. They could send her to an early grave, as they actually had in an alternate future.

#

At this point my plan called for me to do just what Lauren had done in that other reality. I would bring Gus and Coven together and hope that they would knock each other out. But what then? Heather and the girls would, presumably, regain their separate identities, but the curse would still be fast upon Gus. How would I control him over a period of months while Pinnacle set up her cloning operation? I didn't have Aladdin's brutal technology or their indifference to the boy's suffering.

But neither was I entirely without resources. I knew several powerful ultras of various talents. But which of them should I contact? There was Pinnacle, for one, but she was an emotional wreck would need hours of tender loving care just to sober up. Besides that, she lived in San Francisco.

Prime came next to mind. He was the strongest of all the good-guy heroes and had already bested an impressive array of enemies. If I summoned him by telepathy, he'd be able to cross the country at hyper speed. Unfortunately, I knew that Prime would have been rendered deranged, undoubtedly a side effect of the Night of Terror. I already had one juvenile running amuck and hardly needed another.

Who else was there? Warstrike? Or, more correctly, 'Strike? Brandon Tark was both cunning and fearless. Moreover, he was a good tactician. Although physically no match for Prime, he had a superior technological support system, as well as innate psychic ability. There was a good chance that this world's 'Strike had access to equipment that could keep Gus confined until Pinnacle was ready for him. On the other hand, 'Strike was soon to be implicated in a heinous act of terrorism. Was he really like the man I knew? I had to take that chance. In the best-case scenario, I might be able to head off the trouble he might otherwise get involved in on Sunday night.

~But I'd need a lot more backup than just 'Strike.~

The original Wrath, a.k.a. Thomas Hunter, also hadn't been a slouch when fighting rogue ultras either. I would have liked to summon him, but he'd vanished into private life without leaving me a forwarding address. The man wasn't even showing up in the Aladdin database lately -- probably because he was trying not to. A telepathic summons would not be possible since we'd never traded energies, and to make things all the harder, he seemed to have no psychic talent.

~And you'll be needing magic even more than muscle, Lukasz.~

I personally knew two magic-users whom I could appeal to. One was Shadowmage, the alien girl from the Godwheel. She was a mercenary with team called The Solution, but the squad had dissolved after it's leader, Lela Cho, had taken back the family company from the gangsters who had seized it. I just hoped that Shadowmage hadn't gone back home, through one of the gate links leading to the Godwheel.

The other magic-user that I'd worked with was Yrial, the Native American sorceress who had associated herself with the Strangers. If I had my druthers, I'd have brought in the whole team, except that were going to be off in Pasadena tonight fighting zombies. My best hope was that I could persuade Yrial to split off from the rest of her capable buddies and help me.

But I was racing ahead of myself. Before I did anything else, I had to reassure Evie. The tyke didn't know where I was and had to be terrified.

Touching down behind some screening bushes along Heather Parks' street, I tuned into my daughter mentally. A moment later there came a response: ~"Mommy? Where are you?"~

"Evie, darling. I'm -- I'm outside the house. Are you all right?"

~"How can you be talking inside my head?"~

"It's a secret ultra power I have, honey. But ~shhh!~ Don't say anything out loud. Just think hard and I'll be able to hear you. We have to be careful that Gus can't listen in. Do you see him? Does he know that we're talking?"

~"I don't think so. He's been yelling about how he's gonna smash everybody who was ever mean to him. He's even mad at you and Daddy, and Mantra --"~

"Hush, Evie, don't think about Mantra, not until we're sure that Gus can't hear us." It was possible that the boy might pick up this sort of sending, considering his nearness to Evie and the monstrous scope of his abilities.

~"Mommy, I'm afraid that Gus is gonna remember all the tricks I played on him an'll wanna smash me, too."~

"You have to be very brave, Pumpkin. Something bad has given Gus the worst sort of magic. It makes him wild and he's gotten so powerful that I don't dare fight with him just yet. What I'm going to do instead is call in some good people to help us. Then we'll be able to catch Gus without hurting him. "

~"What should I do?~

"Try to be as friendly to your brother as you can. Don't tell him he's bad and don't scold him for anything he says or does. He's not thinking clearly and if he gets excited he might hurt you before he knows what he's done."

~"Mommy, can you see us? You sound like you know just what's happened to Gus."~

"I can't explain now, Sweetheart. But I promise to come and rescue you just as soon as I can."

~"Mommy! Don't talk!"~

And then our mind-link broke off.

#

What had happened? I feared the worst, but resolved to follow though with my plan. I touched my gloved fingers to my brow and concentrated.

~"Brandon, this is Mantra. Can you hear me?"~

I repeated this call several times. I was beginning to get anxious when a familiar voice came over my ethereal walky-talky:

~"What? Mantra?"~

"Brandon? That's you, isn't it?"

~"Sure it is, Eden. Sorry. You woke me up. Jet lag. I was buying art in Europe. When you called I was having a nightmare... something about New York City. It's good to know you're still up and about. It's been a long time since the Godwheel, hasn't it?"~

Brandon, something important has come up!

~"I guessed that. You wouldn't be calling me at such an ungodly hour. It must be -- oh, it's only seven-thirty. Well, lay it on me, beautiful. What are you and Luke up to?"~

I hesitated. 'Strike was making the same mistake that Warstrike had made back in my own world. He didn't know that Eden had died, or that I was once more in possession of her magic-channeling body.

"Brandon, this is ~Lukasz.~ I'm Mantra again. Necromantra murdered Eden last January. There's no time for details."

~"How did that bitch claw her way back from the dead?"~ He stopped himself, ~ "Sorry. Give me the scoop. What's happening?"~

"A total disaster! Both my kids are in danger. I need your help." Then that old devil, Suspicion, tapped me on the shoulder. "Are you well, Brandon? Did you get through that nervous breakdown okay?"

~"Sure, Luke, except that I've been pretty much a burnout. I haven't been mixing with my old crowd at all and haven't even wanted to climb back into that crazy costume. But if you're in trouble --"~

"It's trouble in spades, Tark. Listen! Can you help me cage a magician who's at least twice as powerful as me, and do it without causing him any real injury?"

~"What magician? Is Boneyard back?~ In the screwy world that Tark and I occupy, one could never be sure that the dead would stay dead. Even Eden Blake had once come back from the Great Beyond.

"No, I'm up against someone a lot stronger than old Tall-Gray-And- Ugly."

~"That's a scary thought. Exactly where are you?"~

"Canoga Park. I'm about half a mile from my house --"

Before I could finish explaining, I heard something. It sounded like a telepathic a cry of pain.

"Tark! What's wrong?! Come on, man, talk to me!"

He started projecting again, but only fitfully. ~"I- I just went on the wire again. Since the Godwheel I've been doing that sometimes, seeing the future without trying to. I d-don't even need an adrenaline rush to turn it on!"~

"So what did you see?" ~"New York again. It's about to be blasted!"~

"Keep calm, guy. I've seen that future, too."

~"Don't joke! This is serious."~

"I'm not joking, Warstrike. I've been experiencing future events, up through next Thursday at least. A lot of New York is going to down. Thousands will die, but you have to keep clear of it. I've foreseen that if you show up in NYC on Sunday night, you're going to be blamed for causing the damage, along with another group of ultras that you'll be mingled with for some reason. One of them will be Amber Hunt."

I expected a bellow of surprise, but, instead, Tark's tone switched to hard and wary. ~"My name isn't Warstrike. And since when can Mantra see the future?"~

"I'm not an imposter and this isn't a trick. I didn't want to go into long explanations, but some power's gotten its hold on me. I'm being dragged between different timelines and alternate dimensions every couple days. In another world you were called Warstrike." I hoped that this edited version of the truth would suffice to ward off his suspicions. Time was short.

~"That sounds too nutso to be anything but true, Luke. Is there any way I can help?~

"The biggest help I need right now is in saving Evie and Gus. We'll handle everything else later."

~"As soon as you mentioned Amber Hunt I remembered seeing her in my vision. Are you sure you need me? If Amber Hunt's really setting her sights on the Big Apple, maybe I can stop the blast by heading her off."~

"I don't think that's in the cards, Brandon. But, look, if you'll help me, I'll help you. New York will be safe until Sunday night. Maybe by then we'll be able to bring in the Strangers, too. Right now I've got a familial crisis. I don't want to lose the kids the same way you lost Jamie."

I felt his surprise. ~"I -- I didn't know you knew about Jamie."~

"You never told me, but I found out about her from Warstrike. He had a Jamie, too."

Tark paused just a moment before he asked, ~"Is your problem something we can handle quickly?" ~

"I don't know. But I ~do~ know that it's probably too big for just the two of us. We'll need magic, if possible. When I leave you I'm going to try to contact Yrial and Shadowmage. Do you know of anyone else who's available at short notice?"

~"Not a sorcerer, unfortunately. But Hardcase called me up last week. He used that contact number that I've been keeping out there for public referral. Now that he's washed his hands of UltraForce, Hardcase wants to form a new super team, one that doesn't lick Aladdin's boots. He was in the L.A. area when he called and I know how to get back to him."~

"Great! Hardcase is one of the best. If we put together a squad powerful enough -- the person in question -- might give up without a fight."

~"Why not knock him around a little first? He has to be an S.O.B. if he's threatening your kids."~

"It's not so simple, Brandon. We're talking about Gus."

~"Gus?"~

"Dark magic has a hold on him and he can't control himself."

~"You're up against your own ex-husband?"~

"No. It's worse than that. I'm up against...~my own son."~





Chapter 15

"The House of the Coven"

"Sweet smiles in the night, Hover over my delight. Sweet smiles Mother smiles All the livelong night beguiles."

I'd been sending out mental summons to Shadowmage for at least two minutes, but to no avail. The more I use telepathy, the easier it becomes to tell a "dead line" from an unanswered "ringing phone" and Shadowmage definitely seemed to be outside my service area. Angry at myself for wasting so much time, I switched my appeal toward another sorceress.

"Yrial! This is Mantra. Can you hear me?"

After about thirty seconds, and to my intense relief, my appeal was answered. ~"Mantra? Is it you? I didn't know that you possessed such a power?"~

"I'm discovering new talents all the time," I explained hastily. "My friend, I'm in a very serious strait. Can you rally the Strangers? I'm trying to deal with a crisis in Canoga Park. There's a possessed boy using powerful magic and holding his little sister hostage. Their mother seems to be -- missing," I added belatedly.

~"A child? Can one so young be a match for you?"~

Yrial was flattering me, I thought. Only a year earlier she had rated me as powerful, but amateurish in my use of magic -- though she had expressed it more courteously than that. "'Fraid so," I replied. "To win I'd have to use such speed and violence that I'd put his life at risk. What's needed is a battle-hardened ultra team to hem the boy in and overwhelm him without inflicting injury."

~"Mantra, the world seems to be going mad tonight. Strange and terrible forces are abroad. You hail me even as I go with urgent speed to join my comrades in Pasadena. There is a mortuary where the dead have risen to feast on the flesh of the living."~

"Time is running out here, too, Yrial. I need skillful magic use more than anything. Once defeated, he needs to be confined, perhaps for months, until an ally I have is able to restore him to normal. Even if the other Strangers are fully engaged, can't you come by yourself? I'll owe you big time."

After a brief pause, the shamaness replied, ~"No."~ Before my heart had time to sink, she continued, ~"If children are in danger you will owe me nothing. How may I reach you?"~

"Canoga Park is on the north side of L.A. I'll be waiting at the west end of it. I'm going to keep watch on what the boy until you arrive. Send me a thought message when you draw near and I'll be able to guide you in."

~"I shall make all haste."~

"Just one more thing, Yrial. Have you heard whether or not Shadowmage is still on Earth? I was trying to enlist her, too."

~"I have heard naught of Shadowmage for months, I am sorry to say. Her team dissolved itself last winter, as you must know. It is possible that the mage may have departed for her distant home. But I shall do all I can to contact our sister in sorcery, even while I hurry to our rendezvous."~

"Fantastic. 'Strike's also agreed to join us. Maybe he can bring Hardcase, too. See you soon."

#

Having signed off, I made for the Parks' two-story clapboard home. Something seemed amiss. What I mean to say is that ~nothing~ appeared to be amiss. The place should have been in a shambles after Coven's departure. Why wasn't there any damage to the house? Why no police cars? What had happened? Or, more exactly, what had ~not~ happened? Had I landed in a new and different parallel world after all?

Heather's upstairs window was lighted, so I flew up to investigate. Through the heavy drapes I saw all four of the Mantra fans, each wearing her club gear -- various replicas of my action costume. The teens looked totally at ease and normal. How could that be? Why hadn't the quartette been changed into Coven? I had to speak to them and get to the bottom of this mystery.

The girls squealed alarmedly when I came ghosting in through the closed window, but upon recognizing me, their yelling turned to ah's and gasps.

"Mantra!" exclaimed Heather, "Why didn't you knock? You scared us."

"We don't have a second to waste," I told the schoolgirls. "I'm -- I'm here to ~rescue~ you -- I think." I was so stumped by this turn of events that I was practically yammering.

"Heather!" a man called from downstairs. "What's all that screaming about?"

"Nothing, Dad," Heather yelled back. "We're just watching a spooky movie on TV!" Teens were always quick with excuses and that's a trait that usually drives grownups crazy. This time, though, it served a good purpose. Responsible parents wouldn't have permitted kids to consort with notorious ultras without adult supervision. I'd feel the same way if Evie and Gus had been involved. The girls were waiting for me to say something. My mind racing, I realized that the newspapers had set the time of Coven's appearance very vaguely. I glanced at the clock. Not even a half hour had passed since I'd fled my own home, though it certainly seemed longer. If the green bolt hadn't struck the house yet, it still might -- and I could be on the receiving end of it myself. I needed to get the five of us out at once.

It was only then that I noticed something on Heather's small table, half-covered by a magazine that was opened to a Mantra-themed article.

"Have you girls been playing with a ouija board?" I asked sternly.

"We were just about to," Miss Parks replied diffidently, picking up on the censoriousness of my tone. She would remember my earlier admonitions against getting involved with mysticism. "It's only a game," Heather protested weakly.

"No, it's not! Ouija boards are tools for necromancy. And necromancy is a dark art, and it's darkest when a person doesn't know what he's doing."

"But we've read the instruction sheet," the girl said defensively. "Anyway, they sell them in hobby stores. I got mine at Mrs. Fisher's magic shop at the strip mall."

"Ouija boards are always a risk, but they're especially dangerous tonight. Wild magic is loose and there's a manifestation hanging right above your own house right now. Something must have attracted it. I think it's because this room was once in a rite of demon summoning. The old magic must still be sending out negative currents. Touch that board and the four of you might avalanche all that in the sky down on your heads. You all have to get far away from this house for the rest of the night. Can one of you put the others up? Who lives the farthest away?"

"Me!" said the one named Trisha.

"How do you usually get home?"

"My parents'll pick me up at nine."

I shook my head. That wasn't soon enough.

"I came on my bike," put in Jessica, who, I presumed, must live a little closer.

"We can't want till nine," I said. "Heather, can you make up some excuse to your parents and evacuate right away? I hope the rest of your homes have been kept free of magical experimentation?"

"I guess mine would be okay," Jessica sighed. "My folks won't even let ~The Lord of the Rings~ into our house."

I nodded, satisfied. "You can be grateful for that, I suppose."

"Mantra," said Samantha, "you're frightening us. What's going to happen?"

"I'm not sure," I fibbed, "but random magic has already hurt a little boy who lives not far from here."

"Will my parents be safe?" Heather asked urgently.

Originally they had been unharmed in the very house struck by the sky bolt, so I thought they'd be in very little danger. "If they've never had anything to do with witchcraft, I doubt it very much. The boy's mother and little sister wasn't hurt when the magic go him." Only Gus, the one family member who'd carried the marks of demonic magic on him had suffered a change. "You parents wouldn't understand these things, and when grownups don't understand something, they always get stubborn. You'll have to make up some excuse and go over to Jessica's house right away."

"Okay, Mantra," Heather muttered bemusedly. "I'll tell them that Jess forgot to bring over her new CD and we want to go back to her place to listen to it."

"Fine. I'll wait behind the house until you all come out, and then make sure you get there safely. But you'll need to separate as soon as possible. In the past you've cast spells like a coven and I'm worried that if you stay together you'll draw more magic."

Without another word, I phantomed away.

For the next few minutes I waited amid the boughs of a maple tree in the back yard. I really believed that if I could get the girls to leave the Parks house, it would probably circumvent the creation of Coven. The trouble was that without Coven's assistance I would have to formulate a completely new plan to save Gus. More than ever I needed ultra help.

#

Just then the four girls emerged from the house. I peered up into the sky and saw that the eerie violet glow still remained, as did the hovering green bolt. The air was very still, though, and all the primed and cropped Nature around us seemed to be held in suspended animation.

"Mantra?" Heather whispered uneasily.

"I'm up here," I said. "Head for Jessica's house. I'll stay aloft where I can keep a lookout for trouble. When do your folks want you back, Heather?"

"I can stay all night with Jess, but Sam and Trish are going to have to call home for rides."

"That'll work out," I said. "Just be sure that they call home right away. Okay, move it! Let's put some distance between us and that thing in the sky."

The four stared heavenwards. "What thing?" asked Samantha.

"Never mind. Only wizards can see such a thing. It's really horrible- looking, though," I added pointedly. "Now, shake a leg."

They took off at a brisk walk, a couple of them still stealing uneasy upward glances.

Jessie lived only a few minutes away and, to tell the truth, I could have wished that we could have traveled even farther. Still, if I was reading the situation right, the ouija board had to be the key. Otherwise, there was no reason that they couldn't have drawn down the magic before I came.

Just before Heather went inside, she waved me goodbye. I waved back, hopeful that I had saved these more-or-less innocent girls from a very bad time. Having done all I could for the members of my fan club, I made an aerial U-turn and sailed back toward the Blake home.

#

Once there, I settled down on the roof of a flat-topped garage within sight of #3047 Leadwell. The neighborhood still looked deceptively normal, but I knew that Gus, lurking unseen, was a ticking time bomb. I directed a cautious telepathic probe toward my endangered daughter.

"Shhh. Evie. Can we talk?"

To my relief, she made reply. ~"I think so. Oh, Mommy, Gus is scaring me. It's almost like he's stopped being Gus."~

"I know, baby. Why did you end our talk so suddenly before? Did your brother hear us?"

~"He started to. He said, 'Mom's around here somewhere!' "~

"Well then, Buttercup, I can't tell you what I'm planning, since we don't want Gus to know about it. But if he acts like he's about to hurt you, just think the magic word ~Hogwarts~ really hard and I'll come save you, no matter what."

~"Is Gus tougher than you, Mommy?"~

"I think may be. He's probably the toughest sorcerer in the world right now."

~"What happened to him?"~

"I think he was hit by some bad magic from outer space."

~"Oh, no! Be careful, Mommy. I don' t want you and Gus to fight and be killed."~

"I don't want that either, Button. I'm going to do all I to make us a happy family again."

~"We weren't too happy before. Doesn't Gus have any magic to make himself look like he used to, before those fairies got him?"~

"I don't know, Evie, but..."

Suddenly, a green jet of light came shooting up through the Blake rooftop, looking like a miniature comet -- it's color the same as the looming sky bolt.

~"Mom! I know you're hiding around here somewhere," came Gus's yowling thoughts. "You hit me and I'm going to get even. Then I'll go back and fix Evie good for talking to you without telling me first."~

To prevent his doing the latter, I leapt into the air, deliberating creating my own eye-catching burst of green radiance.

"Your mother's not here," I informed him. "I've been tricking Evie all along, making her think that Mrs. Blake was talking to her. I knew you'd overhear us. I wanted to lure you outside -- so we could speak privately." This explanation didn't make much sense, but Gus was just a kid. If he believed that I was so much smarter than him, it might put him at a psychological disadvantage.

"Mantra! I hate you even more than I hate Mom and Dad," the boy hollered, using his raspy vocal chords this time.

He was plainly in no state of mind to talk our problems over. Dark magic was surging through every fiber of his being and irritating him into continuous rage. Gus had gone to great lengths to kill his own mother in another reality, even though she had been offering him no real threat. He was capable of any sort of violent act and now that the two of us were squared off, I had to lure him away from Evie. Nonetheless, the information I'd gleaned so far warned me against fighting him head to head. His battles with Mantra and Lauren had not occurred in this timeline, and so the lad would still be near the peak of his power.

The local Mantra had been given no time to think. She must have underestimated Gus and until it was too late. I didn't dare to be passive. No doubt I would have done the same in her shoes. I was gambling that he probably could take anything that I was capable of throwing at him. Accordingly, with an implication to God, I suddenly discharged a magical blast powerful enough to kill a hundred men.

A green glow flared around the boy, a shield raised by reflex action, no doubt. My own emerald-colored bolt impacted it with a starburst flare and sent him tumbling across the sky. I was afraid that I'd struck the youngster too hard, but he arrested his drop just before crashing to earth and then slowly ascended, his jaw set and his fists clenched.

I hadn't misjudged the youngster's capacity to resist my attacks after all; his resilience was astounding. Even so, he looked dazed and flustered just then, which offered me the chance I needed to broadcast a desperate message to his sister.

"Evie! I'm keeping Gus busy. Run and hide with that nice Mrs. Fisher at the strip mall!"

I didn't dare send the tyke all the way to the police station; it was too far for her to go at night. Although the kids' grandmother lived reasonably close by, she might not be back from her date until late. Anyway, Gus was seething with hatred against the members of his own family and might harbor some peevish resentment against his grandma, too. On the other hand, I didn't think he knew Mrs. Fisher. He had not singled her out for attack in that alternate timeline.

Even though I wasn't sure that Evie had heard my cry, I couldn't wait for her reply. Gus was already gathering steam for another clash, riding on a blast of fire like an Independence Day rocket.

I immediately went phantom and started to flee. At ghost-density I can't ride the air currents. Flight while in phantom-form requires a form of magical propulsion that is quite draining. I therefore couldn't afford a lavish use of my magic to prolong this cat and mouse game. While holding back, I wanted to provoke Gus enough to waste his magical ammunition with futile attacks, thus weakening himself. I was trying to make it look like I was turning chicken, fleeing in fear, skating through the air erratically, making myself a hard target for a tyro marksman.

But the intensity of the barrage of magical blasts under, above, and on either side of me, was disconcerting. Lauren had mentioned how quick Gus seemed to be at learning the use of his new powers. But over the last two years I'd learned a few fancy tricks myself.

Just then one of my son's mega-bolts hit me a glancing blow. Though my shield had been turned up high and I'd remained in phantom form, it felt like I'd been bashed by an ogre's tree-trunk-sized club. I actually sensed a partial breakup of my force field, which testified to the intensity of the blast that hadn't even hit me squarely. While Gus wasn't so keen in regular school lessons, he was showing a real flare for super-villainy. What really shocked me was the way that he had so quickly intuited that I was out of phase with the material world and had adjusted his bolt-density accordingly. How could one so young an inexperienced be so clever? There must have been more martial education packed into those violent anime cartoons he watched than ever I'd suspected!

How could he channel so much power through his young body? Were the goblins to blame? Had they actually made Gus over into magical fairy being like themselves? Even so, his power couldn't all have been coming from out of his own bio-energy anymore than mine did. He had to be constantly refreshed from some outside source. On a dead world such as the moon, with no life to tap into, I always run down quickly. But what exactly was empowering Gus? Was it that celestial energy field? Fortunately, the thing was fated to fade away with the night. When it finally dissipated, would his sorcery be reduced also?

My shield in a disrupted state, I opted for the old killdeer trick, letting myself plummet awkwardly, feigning both weakness and injury. The precipitous drop without fancy evasions made me a somewhat better target, but I was banking on the wicked nature of small boys -- that Gus would want to hold back and watch me bounce off the solid ground like a real-life Daffy Duck.

By finagling the angle of my descent by just a couple of degrees, I plunged into a dark mass of trees and hedges, thereby putting myself out of his line of sight. Being still in ghost-mode, I fell painlessly through the branches and down into the subsoil. Once concealed underground, I checked my plummet, chose a direction, and slipped away beneath the overlying sod.

The downside of this trick was that once Gus had searched for my body unsuccessfully, he might trace me by letting my expenditure of magic serve as a beacon. To avoid this, I exited the earth only a few streets away and at that point abruptly stopped channeling. Such a move would, I hoped, cause the lad to lose my "scent." This was the way I had kept my presence secret from a wizard no less formidable than Boneyard when I confronted him on the Godwheel. But Gus could have located me at any time just by honing in on his mother's bio-signature, something that surely could do. Fortunately, Gus didn't yet know that Mantra and his mother were one and the same and so would have no incentive to try such a ploy.

Though not actively using magic now, I remained sensitive to Gus's proximity. Interestingly enough, instead of getting closer he seemed to be drawing off. Thank Providence for the short attention span of children! But if the boy was heading off, what new mischief did he have in mind? He did not seemed to be steering in the direction of Mrs. Fisher's magic shop, which was a relief.

I thought about trailing after him, but first had to reassure Evie. Events were moving very quickly now; Aladdin agents were due to show up very soon. Although the A-Team could be an asset in my circumstance, I couldn't allow Gus to fall into their hands. If that should happen, he'd be hard to rescue and his fate would be wretched.

As I stepped into the light of the street lamps, someone remarked, "Nice Mantra outfit." I looked back to see a couple of teenaged boys sauntering by. They seemed nonchalant, despite the chaos of the night. I realized then that, except for the unusual sky color and the halo around the moon, most people on earth would not even be aware that anything special was occurring.

Ignoring the hormonal twosome, I used my wizard sense to get another bearing on the errant young warlock. To my consternation, I felt two "blips." their "flavors" distinctly different. One magical trace had to be Gus, and the other, I feared, was Necromantra. Trouble always comes in pairs, but Gus presented the more pressing problem. Lauren had found the witch-bitch hunkered down in her hideout. If she wasn't disturbed, she might remain there all through the night.

Where, exactly, was Gus up to? Maybe he'd zeroed in on his dad. I hoped not. Though he could be neglectful, the death of Gus Blake Sr. would devastate his daughter Evie and Gus might never forgive himself if he ever regained his reason. But that danger was just a guess. What I knew for certain was that Evie was frightened and confused and I needed to go to her. Consequently, I took off for the magic shop with the speed of a whirlwind.

At such a velocity, the strip mall lay only seconds away. Having settled down close by, I saw that Mrs. Fisher's "closed" sign was already up, but the fluorescent lights still shone brightly indoors. Such was my state of mind that I almost knocked on the door without pausing to think what I was wearing. Secret identities have been exposed by such thoughtless mistakes. I therefore flashed back into the clothing that I'd shed before -- the black dress suit that looked like the one I'd lately bought on sale at Wal-Mart.

Then, hoping I looked presentable, I knocked.





Chapter 16

"A School for Scandal"

"Why art thou Terrible and yet I love thee in thy Terror till I am almost Extinct and soon shall be in a shadow in Oblivion, Unless some way can be found that I may look upon thee and live...."

An instant later, a worried face peered through the lace curtain. Mrs. Fisher, the local New Age notions dealer, seemed relieved to recognize me and she hurriedly fumbled to unlock the door.

"Mommy!" yelped Evie, now able to see me over the old lady's shoulder. The little girl slipped around Mrs. Fisher and sprang into my arms. I picked her up; her excited grip about my neck felt like a chokehold.

"Oh, honey, I was afraid for you," I gasped. "W-Were you awfully scared?"

"Yeah, I was! Is Gus...is Gus...?"

~"Shhh,~ darling. I'll tell you later. We don't want to alarm Mrs. Fisher."

"I didn't 'larm her, Mommy. I just said that a bad person came into our house and I ran away!"

Our hostess spoke up. "Mrs. Blake, what's been happening? The child tried to tell me, but I didn't quite understand it all."

"E-Evie got frightened by a bad ultra," I said. "He must have s- slipped into our home to rob it. I saw him leaving j-just as Mantra showed up. Maybe she'd b-been hunting him; I don't know. The two of them s-starting fighting up in the sky, but he seemed to be more p- powerful -- and he drove her off."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Evie in dismay. "Can't Mantra beat him at all?"

I loosened her grip and drew a deep breath. "I don't think so, darling. Not alone. Maybe Mantra will go find some friends that can help her. Then she'll be able to deal with that fellow."

"Do you think Mantra's already done that, Mommy?" Evie asked slyly.

"Maybe, if she's as smart as you are." I set the tyke down. "Thank you for taking Evie in, Mrs. Fisher. She was lucky to find your shop open."

The proprietress nodded. "I was doing the accounts after closing time because I didn't want to go out under that purple sky. There was something about the look of it -- more than just the color -- that felt so ~wrong.~ I was thinking about riding home in a cab, even though I only have to walk three blocks. That's when your little girl rapped on the door."

I looked outside, into the strange-hued night. What worried me most was that Gus could show up at any second. That would place Mrs. Fisher in jeopardy. She'd been a good neighborhood friend to Evie and I didn't want her kindness to lead to something tragic.

My daughter was again nudging up against me, this time holding out her teddy bear. "See, Mommy, I saved Mr. Paws, too! I was afraid that -- ~that the bad person~ -- might torture him, to make him tell where I went."

I touched her button nose. "That was quick thinking, darling! You rescued your little friend just like a real ultra would." Then I addressed Mrs. Fisher. "Evie and I will sleep in a motel overnight. I'll call the police and report the break-in from there."

"You're welcome to stay until the sky clears up. I could use the company."

I shook my head. "I'd rest a lot easier once I've put a few miles between these battling ultras and my little girl."

"I understand," Mrs. Fisher sighed. "May the good Lord watch over you both." Then she added, "Evie has a brother, doesn't she? Will he be all right?"

I didn't want to say too much. "Gus went to a ball game with his father. He was going to spend the whole night at his dad's place."

"That's lucky," the shopkeeper murmured distractedly. She was looking out window, at the haloed moon hanging so ominously in that strange violet sky.

#

Evie and I scurried away from the magic shop; sinister shadows hung on every side. I led her around the corner where the strip mall terminated and there, in a dense moon shadow, I breathed deeply and thought hard. Evie had to be protected, but where would we find a safe haven? Gus wouldn't have to know where Evie was in order to find her, or me for that matter. If the juvenile came for his sister, I'd have to meet him head-on. Unable to give ground and maneuver, I'd be a clay pigeon up against that kind of power.

In the midst of my quandary, a van drove up -- a van that I recognized.

I sprang out of the darkness and waved my arms. The vehicle skidded to a halt and a young, bearded black man leaned his shaven head out the window. "What is it, lady?" Greg Tunney asked impatiently.

"You're from Aladdin, aren't you?" I asked, pretending not to recognize him.

"From where?"

"That's the sort of van that the A-Team uses," I explained, trying hard not to show my impatience.

"A-Team? Do you mean that old TV series?" Wrath was still playing it coy.

"Can the comedy, fella. I know we've never met, but we work for the same company. Maybe you've heard the name 'Eden Blake'."

He frowned. ~"Eden Blake?!~ Well, if that doesn't.... We were heading for your house."

"Why would you be going there?" I asked innocently.

He shrugged. "The sky-watchers got some sort of off-the-scale energy reading coming from this end of Canoga Park. Smekes knew that you lived around here and so he called you for an on-site report. But your phone was off the hook and he got to thinking that the surge could have been some sort of enemy action aimed at you, as one of his agents. How did it feel when it hit?"

"Surge? I didn't feel even a tickle. But it might help to explain what happened to my son Gus."

I hated bringing up Gus's name, but what choice did I have? The boy was running wild and Aladdin would find out about him soon enough. And, once they did, they'd be justifiably suspicious as to why I hadn't come clean from the start. I couldn't afford to let Aladdin start thinking that I'm the type who keeps pertinent secrets from it -- especially because I am.

"What do you mean? What happened to your boy?"

"It's hard to explain. It was like a demon possessed him. He started using world-class magic and I'm sure that it was well beyond anything that Yrial or Shadowmage could wield. He seemed to go out of his mind and started tearing up the house. That's when I grabbed Evie and ran. We were looking for a safe place when we saw your van."

"Well, magic or not, I don't think there's any kid alive able to stand up to the A-Team."

"Easy, Wrath," I admonished. "It's my son we're talking about, not some super-criminal. He's just a grade-schooler. He can't help himself."

"I'm with you, ma'am; we'll be careful. But how did you know my codename was Wrath?"

~Sharpen up, Luaksz. You're making mistakes.~

"Well, you've heard about me. It so happens that I've heard about you, too." If Wrath had demanded to know who was blabbing about Aladdin's covert assignments, I'd have been in a spot. I had no name to give him.

But all that the agent said in reply was, "Yeah? Then I guess the suits aren't half as good at keeping secrets as they think they are."

I tried to change the subject. "I'm worried that the boy might come looking for his sister and me. Some ultras can automatically find people, you know. Even a police station wouldn't be a safe place, not against that kind of power. Remember that precinct-house that got trashed in the Terminator movie?"

He nodded. "Street cops aren't trained to face down ultras, but we are. You and the little girl can ride with us."

"Yes, by all means take Evie, but as for me...."

"Why not you? You sure can't go home; that's the first place the boy will look."

"I know the risk, but maybe if I found him alone he wouldn't feel threatened. I might be able to calm him down." I didn't believe that, but I needed to regain my freedom of action before the other ultras showed up.

"We came to find you, Mrs. Blake, and that mission's been accomplished. Taking that youngster of yours off the street has to be our new priority. If you're riding with us when we meet up with him, you might just be able to talk him into surrendering quietly."

"What do you plan to do with Gus?" As if I didn't know.

"Get him some medical attention, of course. The eggheads will want to try to understand what's happened to him and undo it."

I didn't trust Aladdin's brand of medicine, but his logic was hard to argue against -- without arousing suspicion.

"And if he ~does~ come looking for his family," Tunney went on, "it will be all to the good. It will save us the trouble of scouring the city for him."

I frowned. "So Evie and I will be Judas goats?"

He opened the van door and stepped down to the asphalt. "Mrs. Blake, you know the Company and you know what the chain of command expects. You've also got to think about the boy's welfare. If he's got ultra powers and he's out of control, sooner rather than later someone is going to start shooting at him. Do you want that to happen? We've got to take the little fellow in before he gets hurt." He patted the van seat. "Come on now; you and the tyke climb inside. That's an order."

I raised my chin. "I'm not sure you're authorized to be giving me orders, mister."

He didn't frown, but beamed a grin half-smirking and half-admiring. "I don't know what the pecking order is out here, lady, but this is one hell of a bad time to be arguing about rank."

He was right on that score. I cursed myself for not switching into my Blackbird outfit before flagging down the van. Then I could have left Evie in Wrath's care and flown off to do whatever I had to. Now I was trapped. Well, with a little luck I'd be able to slip away later on.

The red-garbed ultra helped Evie and Mr. Paws up into a passenger seat. I got in after them, noting that the vehicle's interior was surprisingly spacious. Besides Wrath and the driver, it held five other agents, all of them wearing toe-to-neck body armor. In addition, there was a wide array of weaponry fitted into compact wall racks. Except for their leader, they were silent types. A couple of them gave us a nod of welcome, but none said anything.

Evie wriggled in close against me, intimidated by the fiercely caparisoned warriors. Her eyes beseeched mine, full of worry, full of hope. I put my arm around the little girl and gave her a confident smile. It was so easy to forget that this wasn't my own Evie.

Just then the driver spoke up, "Wrath, we've just intercepted a police call. There's a flying ultra burning down the Canoga Park Elementary School, and -- get this -- he's doing battle with Hardcase!"

"Get a GPS on the location and take us there fast!" the team leader barked. Then he looked back at me. "Elementary school? Does that sound like something your boy might do?"

"Maybe. I --"

Words failed. It was something that a child so angry might do. He was lonely and resented that he wasn't allowed to go to school. But no doubt child psychologists believed that Gus was too emotionally fragile to endure being shunned by his friends for his changed appearance.

"Ouch, Mommy!" Evie yelped. "You're squeezing too hard!"

I let her little hand go, but all I could think of was Gus locked in a duel of the titans against Hardcase.

~The world really had gone insane.~

#

Hardcase had been one of Gus's favorite heroes. He had all of the man's collector cards, and his action figure to boot. But if the boy's affections had become violent and twisted, as seemed to be the case, right now he'd probably be throwing out all stops to defeat and destroy the famous crime fighter.

What would Hardcase do to defend himself? Would he realize that he was dueling the very child whom 'Strike had told him about? Or would he...? I didn't want to think about it.

Hardcase -- Tom Hawke -- and I had met only briefly a couple of times. I had, however, read his file at Aladdin and my young friend Prime was Hardcase's teammate on the UltraForce. Just before last Christmas, Hardcase had battered NM-E into wreckage, but had received agonizing third-degree burns all over his body. I'd seen him when his wounds were still raw. For some reason he hadn't returned to Earth with the rest of us and only recently had been sighted around his hold haunts again.

But -- I had to remind myself -- what I knew might not be true of the Hardcase of this world. One thing I had already heard of was that the local Hardcase had quit UltraForce in anger, allegedly over its growing involvement with the federal government.

"If Gus burns down the school, where will I go on Monday?" Evie suddenly asked. "And what happened to all the people who were in school?"

I hugged her close. "Easy, Button. There couldn't be many people at school after dark on Friday. No kids, certainly. If anyone was inside, janitors or somebody else, we'll just have to pray that they all got out in time."

"Okay, Mommy." She placed her fingertips together and bowed her head. When I saw what she was doing, I did likewise, to set a good parental example, but my thoughts were fixed on the sirens now blaring up ahead. If Gus was responsible for this arson, it was an especially ugly turn of events. My attempts to minimize the damage he might do had -- so far -- been very disappointing.

#

We could see the wide, two-story building in flames. Squadrons of emergency vehicles were drawn up and disciplined crews were hurrying about. Sensation-seeking throngs had poured out of the surrounding neighborhood, pressing against the cordons that the emergency workers had staked out. The van slowed down to a roll and our driver honked rhythmically to clear a way through the crowd.

A policeman hailed us to a stop and demanded identification. Wrath shoved some sort of document at him -- which had to be a phony, seeing as how Aladdin was a secret agency. But whatever bogus information the thing imparted, it did the trick and the uniformed man backed off. Just then, a bolt of green streaked to the ground from somewhere above. Looking up, I made out a stubby-limbed, manlike being outlined in a lurid emerald luminescence.

My fists tensed. We had found Gus all right, but where was Hardcase?

"Stop here," ordered Tunney. The vehicle turned in and halted against the curb with a bounce. Wrath was first out, with the rest of the heavily armored A-Team clattering after him. I whispered to Evie and told her to remain inside the van. If I didn't come right back, she was to stay with the nice policemen until I returned for her. Then I followed in the wake of the other Aladdin agents.

Though the ultra-hunters, having slipped on their goggles and breathing masks, moved determinedly into the hot, gray billows, they were less interested in the fire as in the arsonist. Hardcase himself wouldn't safe from their tender mercies, considering the intense grudge that Aladdin bore against him -- or at least was the situation back home. I doubted that Wrath would order an assassination, but how well disciplined were these hardcore agents, the picked men of leaders like Sarn and Smeke?

When no one was looking, I ducked under a television news truck and changed into my Blackbird garb. Then, reusing the trick that had worked so well earlier, I ghosted away through the subsoil, only to come up a couple blocks away. I wouldn't be as powerful without the magical outfit that Archimage had bequeathed to me. On the other hand, I didn't want the agents to see that Mantra was still on the loose. Let them think that "Blackbird" was a third "new Mantra."

I was playing a dangerous game getting so close to Gus in an underpowered state. The boy could probably have cracked Blackbird's best defenses like a chocolate Easter egg. If he confronted me, I would have to switch costumes, regardless of who saw me afterwards.

Suddenly, through a break in the smoke, I spotted the glowing outline of my deranged son. He was ignoring the firemen and concentrating on something else, something still cloaked in the swirling fume below.

"Look! Is that Mantra?!" someone shouted.

Not wanting Gus to be alerted, I summoned up a dark mist, one that would follow me across the sky while I maneuvered to get a good shot at the boy's turned back. With his life or freedom at stake, it was no time to think about chivalry.

Just then I caught sight of Tom Hawke. He was darting around the cluttered, hose-strewn ground like a pinball. The ultra was playing it defensively, while Gus, all spleen and aggression, tried to blast him. The fight must have seemed like little more than a video game to the lad. Did he grasp that he was playing with the life of another human creature -- one whom he had actually hero-worshipped only an hour or so earlier? Considering the immensity of Gus's power, I wondered whether Hardcase had only remained alive so long because the boy didn't want such exciting fight to end too soon.

Nonetheless, Hardcase was formidable -- as strong as Hercules and possessed of an astounding leaping ability. I saw that the ultra was holding a four-foot-wide hunk of sidewalk over his head. This crude projectile he now hurled at Gus with all his strength. My heart skipped a beat; it was all I could do to keep from stopping the slab in mid- flight. Fortunately, before it fatally connected, the youngster discharged a magical flash, instantly pulverizing the cement into sand and lime. Its debris rained down on the heads of the fire fighters below.

At that instant, while Gus's attention was fixed on Hardcase, I threw the mightiest burst of stunning force that I was capable of. It hit his back squarely and he tumbled earthward. On impulse, I dove in close, hoping to soften his landing if he couldn't save himself in time.

This was a mistake. Gus's alighted feet-first and unharmed upon the playground sward. He then veered my way, shaking a pair of clenched fists, his brutal face a mask of rage. Suddenly, incandescent bolts crackled between his hands and the boy seemed primed to unleash a mega- bolt of death.

~Right into my chest!~

TO BE CONTINUED....