I left the cafeteria and headed to the Security offices. The walk brought back old memories, mostly good memories, of what I thought were simpler times. This was my home for almost ten years after my full powers manifested. I trained here and in the desert land outside with John.
I got to the entrance to the Security Offices and the door would not open. I could have forced it open, but I did not think that was a good idea. I hit a button on the side of the door and heard the buzzer from inside the offices. I heard a click and opened the door. Inside was a counter with a couple of people behind it. On the right wall was the Agency's seal with the motto of the security division printed next to it: Protect and Guide. A flag of the United Nations stood beside an American flag, which symbolized that the Agency served the world, not just the United States. I scanned the room and saw multiple security cameras, some hidden. I, also, saw equipment in the ceiling that looked like a nullifier field projector.
One of the counter people, a man, from his ID badge, named Phillip Hawk, looked up and said,” Please sit down. We were expecting you.”
I sat down and Mr. Hawk asked,”What name will do you want in the system?”
I was taken aback. I “looked” at his computer screen and saw the entry for first, middle and last name blinking. The name's displayed were “Daisy Clarissa Tarlock.”
Clearly I wanted to be call Clarissa, but did I want to go back to my parent's last name? I still wanted to go back to my life as Clarissa Brown. I decided to keep Brown out of the Agency.
I said,” Clarissa Tarlock, no middle name.”
He typed and the hit enter. I heard a whine as my ID card was printed.
Mr. Hawk pushed an ear bud, a small computer tablet and an ID card to me. The card read: Clarissa Tarlock, Operative. Five years ago, my ID card read Special Agent. I guessed I got a demotion.
“Your security status has been updated. You have access to all areas of the building. Please insert the comm link and wear it whenever you are on duty. Any calls will be transferred to your tablet when it is not on-line,” Hawk said.
As soon as I put the earbud into my right ear, I heard,” This is Control. You are online.”
“Judith, is that you?” I asked.
“Yes, welcome back, Artemis,” the communications officer said.
Five years ago, Judith Mycroft was one of the agency's communication officers. They maintained contact with us when we were on missions. Judith and I had become friends.
“I do not go by Artemis, now,” I said.
“I am sorry. I will correct your status, Ms. Tarlock,” Mycroft said.
“No problem,” I said.
I assumed that I was on twenty-four seven call. Unlike five years ago, I might not be as receptive to Agency requests, whether the Director or John like it or not. I was determined that I would leave the Agency and super-hero life when the current situation was resolved. Of course, I was wrong. I just did not know it yet.
I said,” Judith, I assume my uniform is still in the same storage place?”
“Yes. Also, Apollo ordered the same upgrades as were made to his uniform.” she said.
The exterior of John's uniform did not look different, but it had long had communication and computer enhancements. I was sure that it had upgraded based on technological advancements over the past five years.
“I have a rental car in the parking lot. Could someone please return it to the rental place in town,” I asked to Hawk.
“Of course, just give us the keys,” Hawk said.
I got the keys out of my purse and handed them to him.
I thanked the guards and left the security offices. I took an elevator to the top third floor and went to the changing room that John and I used years ago. On the door was printed: Locker Room One. I opened the door, went inside and faced a white wall with a “Men” sign pointed right and a “Women' sign pointed left. The trend for unisex locker rooms had not extended to the Agency. I followed the left sign into the women's locker room. The traditional lockers were on each side of the room. The center of the room had a couple of couches and a few chairs. At the end of the room were doors to the separate rest room and shower areas.
On the left wall, just before the row of lockers, was a door without a handle. On the door read,” Artemis.” They never changed it. I pushed on the door and it opened based on my bio-signature. Inside was a large bath room, complete with walk in shower, a large vanity, toilet, separate linen and cloths closets. On the far wall was the glass door closet that held Artemis's uniform; light brown with white boots, belt, gloves and a half cape. I had them add the all white chest symbol. The uniform needed something to break the all brown. I could “see” that the material was thinner than it was five years ago. Yet, the communication, computer and associated electronics were clearly enhanced. The ninja hood's face was clear. Part of me wanted to put in on right then. Part of me never wanted to put it on again. Perhaps, I thought, they could change the color.
Then I heard over the intercom,” This is a possible attack alert. This is not a drill. All non-security personnel report to your assigned secure locations. All security personnel report to your assigned defense locations. This is not a drill.
“Ms. Tarlock, this is Control. Please report to the outside of the building. Further instructions will be given to you there.”
I “looked” into the locker room and saw John fly in. He “looked” at me and said,”Look at the back of the building,” He turned and went into his private changing room.
I “looked” at the back of the building and “saw” a spot about a hundred yards behind the Intake Area building shimmer. Because of the chance of an out of control powered being brought in, the back of the building was the most fortified part of the building. It was interesting that our visitors would choose to arrive there. I hesitated for just a moment, and then stripped off my clothes. I slid the class door aside and started to put on the uniform. It was thin and clung to my body so that it would be protected by my bio-shield. It sealed in the back. Like my old uniform, it was designed not to show my butt crack, navel or, I have to admit, sometimes erect nipples. The chest binned the “girls” a little tight. That de-emphasize their c-cup size. It was bad enough that I wore a cat suit, I did not want it to look like it was painted on. The belt buckle held a multi-spectrum scanner. On the back of the belt were large pockets. I took one of the scrunchies from aside shelf, pulled my hair back into a short pony tail, and pulled on my mask. As soon as it sealed, a pop up screen appeared on my face plate
John was waiting for me when I walked back into the locker room. Aside from the longer white cape, his uniform matched mine, with black replacing brown. A four foot across hatch slid open in the ceiling to reveal a shaft to the roof.
“Do you remember how to fly or do you need my help?” John said as he extended his hand to me.
“Like riding a bicycle,” I said as I wondered if that was true.
“Ladies first,” John said.
I took a deep breath and willed myself upward. I slowly lifted off and soon passed through the open hatch on the roof. John followed and we flew to the back of the building. We hovered and I “scanned” the shimmer in the air and it looked the same as it did to in visible light.
“This is Control. Our best guess is that is a distortion in the fabric of space,” I heard over my comm link.
Security personnel, dressed in full body armor, rushed out of the building. They assembled on either side of the disturbance. They were armed with energy and projectile weapons. Some of them had standard powers. Two people in isolation suits put sensor arrays in front and on either side of the area, then moved away. I saw several people in skin tight uniforms, like mine. They were powered personnel. One of them was Fifer and I was sure he was not the only null among them.
The portal flared and left a hole in the air. People ran out through it and alternated which side of the hole they ran toward. A total of forty people, equally divided on each side of the portal. I
thought the last two through the portal were their leaders.
“None of them have a bio-shield,” John said.
That meant that the nuclear option was off the table. I scanned the visitors and said,” They all look like they have standard powers.”
Through the hole I saw someone smash through the ceiling of the room beyond the portal. She was naked and angry. I “saw” that she had a very powerful bio-shield. She flew toward the portal and vanished as the portal flared as bright as a sun as it closed.
I recognized the apparent leader of those left of the portal as the man who contacted me. He had a lot of questions to answer. John and I flew down to the parking lot. The guards have surrounded our visitors, who still stayed in two groups. Since they seemed to have only standard powers, the guards' weapons would stop them. John and I certainly could take them down.
The apparent leaders of the two groups walked toward us.
“Let them approach,” I heard from my comp link.
Most of the guards kept their weapons focused on the other visitors. They expected us to deal with these two.
The man who sent me the message stopped in front of me. He wore the same gray jump suit. It had no insignia or decorations. His heart rate and breathing were regular. He either was not apprehensive or had control over his autonomic functions.
The woman stopped in front of John. Her skin was chocolate color and her black hair cut short. She wore an ankle length, nearly skin tight red dress. She was full figured, but it was all muscle. She looked calm, but her rapid heart rate and breathing betrayed her anxiety. Her eyes softened as she looked at John. It looked like she knew him.
“My name is Ton Krelick. I am the representative of my people,” the man said in perfect English a British accent, as he waved his arm at his group of visitors.
“We come in peace,” he continued.
“I am called Abilola. I lead my people, or what is left of them. We seek sanctuary,” she said, again, in perfect English with a British accent.
“As do you we,” Ton Krelick said,
“Sanctuary from what?” John said.
“From one like you,” Ton Krelick answered.
Behind me, I heard the entrance to the Intake area slide open. I “saw” Doctor Franks, in an isolation suit, stand in the doorway.
“Apollo and Ms. Tarlock, please tell our guests to follow Doctor Franks. We need to decontaminate the outside area,” Tenneth’s voice came over my comm link.
Given the virus that John had brought to the world, decontamination was in order. Fortunately, I did not bring any disease when I was found in the Pennsylvania National Forest.
“Please have your people follow Doctor Franks,” John said as he pointed toward the Intake Area.
Doctor Franks and two others were in containment suits. He gestured for people to come toward him.
In different languages, the two leaders told their respective groups to follow them and they all went into the Intake Area. The language that Krelick spoke seemed familiar to me.
“We will have to be decontaminated,” John said.
John and I walked into the Intake Area, with the other Agency personnel following. The entrance lobby was now sealed and the visitors followed Doctor Franks through the open far exit. John and I went through the other open exit on the left.
John and I walked through the opening, which slid closed behind us. We were in a ten-foot diameter cylinder. Part of the wall was transparent and a man and a woman sat behind it.
Kelly Price had light brown skin and closely cut black hair. She was beautiful, tall and had a body most women would die for. She wore black jump suit. She was a high end energy emitter. She could emit everything on the electromagnetic spectrum.
“Do you want me to hold you up or will you do it your selves,” the man who stood behind her asked.
I levitated a foot of the floor, as did John.
Ben Bronson was short and stocky. He was fair skinned with red hair. He had a plain face that no one would look at twice. That did not bother Kelly, she loved him with all her heart. BB, as everyone called him, was a telekinetic who could lift a fully loaded eighteen wheeler.
They were both with the Agency when John first introduced me to the Agency's headquarters. They and my late boyfriend were friends. They were the Three Musketeers and I became the Fourth Musketeer. They had tried to keep in touch with me. They had given up being field agents after the Cleveland Disaster, but stayed with the Agency.
I closed my eyes. The room was filled with x-rays, which stopped just at the edge of my bio-shield, enough to sterilize anything in the room. For the rest of personnel who were outside, Kelly would stop the x-rays just at the surface of the outside of their armor. I was glad she was on our side. Her talent made her one of the most dangerous people on the planet. My bio-shield might have protected me from a full assault of her powers, but I would not have wanted to test that. I “sensed” the x-ray bombardment stop.
“You should be good to go,” Kelly said.
I opened my eyes and floated down to the floor.
“I am glad you are on our side,” I said to Kelly,
“Hey, I can be dangerous, too,” BB said.
That was true. His telekinesis could gently pluck a flower or lift a tank. I saw him tear a nearly invulnerable terrorist apart from the inside out during the Cleveland Disaster when no one else could stop her. That was when he decided to stop being a field agent. I knew that feeling.
A door slid open and we walked out of the decontamination station. We both pulled off our masks. I took off the scrounge and shook my hair out. I had forgotten that the mask was so tight. That was why I had cut my hair into a bob when I was Artemis. If I was going to play super-hero for awhile, I thought I might need to cut my hair.
Chapter 5 – Tuesday, July 20, 7:30 PM Mountain Daylight Time
Three hours later, John and I followed Doctor Franks and Mr. Hernandez down the corridor to the isolation unit. For most of the past three hours, the John and I tested my powers and found that they matched what they had been five years ago. He had changed back into his black pants and shirt. I wore black slacks and a white polo shirt, with the Agency seal on the left shoulder. I, also, visited the complex's hair salon. I reduced my bio-shield to allow the hairdresser to cut my hair. Like most standard powered, my hair and nails were as easily trimmed as those of non-powered people.
“They have been very co-operative as far as medical examination, not so much answering questions,” Doctor Franks said.
“They said they would only talk to us?” I said.
“Yes, they were very insistent on that,” the Doctor said.
“What did your tests show?” John said.
“They agreed with your assessment that they all have standard powers and none match your abilities. They show no evidence of other extreme powers, but, they could be hiding them. Also, we can not determine why they are resistant to telepathy,” Doctor Franks said.
“We had the psi-blockers in the isolation area off long enough for us for out telepaths to scan them. All that even Ms. Kim could detect was surface feelings, no thoughts,” Hernandez said..
“Must be frustrating,” I said.
“What feelings could they pick up?” John asked.
“They said the most prominent emotion was relief,” Hernandez said.
“From the limited genetic tests we were able to do since they got here, we found some of the same unique genetic traits that you two share,” Doctor Franks said.
John and I were no longer unique. That bothered me a little. Despite my view that my powers did not make me better than others, they did make me special. I remembered my parents who told me that being different did not mean someone was special. It was difficult to keep that in mind when I could fly and pick up cars with one hand.
“The Director was not happy when they refused to talk with anyone but John and I,” I said.
“He is afraid you might identify with them. After all, it seems
they are from your home world,” Hernandez said.
“This is the only world we remember. Our loyalty is to the people here,” John said.
That was true, but I understood Director Tenneth's concern. He might claim to trust us, but that trust was based on necessity. He saw that the world needed us to protect it from those like us.
We followed Doctor Franks to the isolation area's interview room. We sat down across from the leaders of our visitors, separated by a transparent material separated us stronger than steel. The entire isolation area was surround by a force field that would stop even John or I, at least for a few seconds. Except for the interview room, it was psi blocked. It blocked my enhanced senses, even those that were really clairvoyance. Director Tenneth was going to monitor the interview remotely.
Hernandez stood behind us. Since we could not use telepaths to verify that our visitors were being truthful, Hernandez would try to do that A transparent material, stronger than steel, separated us from the Visitors. The two had changed into black jump suits. The visitors' original clothing had been taken to be tested for anything dangerous. I “scanned” both of them. Ton Krelick sat across from me and looked relaxed and had a slight smile on his face. I did not trust the smile. Again, I felt I could nor trust him. Abilola sat across from John. She was tense and avoided his eyes. She did not look afraid, more embarrassed.
“We requested that we speak only with you,” Krelick said.
“Our superiors require it,” John said.
Krelick smiled and said,”Ah, a telepath, she won't be of help.”
Neither John nor I dissuaded him of his false assessment.
“What accounts for your resistance to telepathy?” John asked.
“A strong telepath was created about thirty-five years ago and as a teenager her power developed beyond control. After that, our governments developed the means to protect minds from telepathy. It is standard procedure for all government employees,” Krelick said.
“Your governments? What about the rest of the population and what happened to the telepath?” I asked.
Comes Great Responsibility Page 3
