“I’m obligated as your friend to tell you, it’s not too late to turn back,” I say.
“Noted,” Sara says, and a sad smile crosses her face. “Believe me, I’ve had a lot of second thoughts about this. I’ve almost changed my mind, like, a thousand times. You know what’s hanging me up?”
“What?”
“I did a lot of terrible things. I know I can’t set any of that stuff right directly, but I feel like I should do something to...ohh, I don’t know how to put it. Balance the scales? Sow some good karma? Get myself right with God? Do you know what I’m trying to say?”
“I know what you mean, yeah.”
“How do I do that if I’m not a super-hero? How can I do any good if I don’t have my powers?”
You can’t. You have to keep your powers and get back in the game. Fight the good fight. Take down bad guys. Be a super-hero again. I’ll be by your side the whole time.
That’s my instinctive and very selfish answer. I keep it to myself.
“People without super-powers do good in the world all the time,” I say. “You can too. You just have to find something that speaks to you. I bet there are all kinds of volunteer opportunities around town. I know the school has an LGBTQ student support group. Maybe you could look into that?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Sara smiles. “Thank you.”
Yeah, you’re welcome.
We step inside. Catherine Hannaford, the Protectorate’s face to the general public, as well as a skilled psionic herself, greets us with a grim expression.
“Carrie. Sara. If you’ll follow me?” she says.
Catherine leads us to what we’ve come to call the Wonkavator, a subterranean transport that connects the office to the Protectorate’s headquarters a few miles away. It’s a convenient way to give the public some level of access to the team while still keeping them at a safe distance in the off-chance of a super-villain attack (it’s happened once in the team’s history and, lucky me, I was there for it). The ride over is ominously silent. Catherine is normally quite friendly, but today she seems distant.
I wonder if she knows why Sara’s here. I can’t imagine she’d look too kindly on the prospect of a fellow psionic being intentionally hobbled, regardless of the reasons.
Edison greets us at the end of the line, and he looks no cheerier than Catherine. I have a bad feeling about this.
“What’s going on? Sara had a private appointment with Bart,” I say, emphasizing the private appointment part.
“There’s been a change of plan,” Concorde says.
“Obviously.”
“Follow me,” Concorde says, and he turns to leave. I don’t. Edison sighs. He knows how stubborn I can be. “We’ve called a tribunal to review Sara’s conduct throughout the King of Pain case.”
“A tribunal?” Sara says, looking to me for an explanation.
“A formal inquiry, like the one they held for Astrid,” I say before turning back toward Edison. “And you couldn’t bother to tell us in advance?”
“It was a last-minute decision.”
“Oh, if only we had some kind of miraculous device that allowed for instantaneous communication,” I say, waving my phone at him.
He leads us up to the conference room, where the entire Protectorate has gathered — and I mean the entire Protectorate: Bart, Natalie, Astrid, and yes, even the Entity is here (and is the only person in uniform, I’d like to note; everyone else is in normal human clothes).
“Have a seat, girls,” Edison says before taking his place at the head of the table.
“Shouldn’t Sara have some kind of representation?” I say. “Shouldn’t Mr. Crenshaw be here?”
“This isn’t a legal proceeding. This is a purely internal review for now.”
“For now? What does that mean?”
“Have a seat,” Edison repeats.
We sit.
Catherine picks up a tablet from the table, taps the screen, and lays it back down. “We’re recording,” she says.
“This is Concorde, duly-appointed team leader of the Protectorate,” Edison begins. “Today is Saturday, August 25, and the Protectorate has convened a tribunal to conduct a formal inquiry into the actions of Sara Jeanette Danvers, alias Psyche, a member of the Hero Squad and associate member of the Protectorate, regarding her actions pursuant to case number PR dash oh six dash fourteen. Present for and participating in this tribunal are myself, Mindforce, Nina Nitro, Dr. Enigma, the Entity, Catherine Hannaford, and associate member Lightstorm.”
“Wait, what?” I say. “I’m part of the tribunal?”
Edison ignores me and forges ahead. “This inquiry was requested by team member and deputy team leader Mindforce, acting on behalf of the accused.”
I look a question at Sara. She shrugs and shakes her head.
“The facts of the case are as follows,” Edison says before providing for the official record a slightly (but only slightly) abbreviated version of the past four months, beginning with the King of Pain’s arrival in Kingsport and reaching a climax with Sara’s breakdown and, soon thereafter, the King of Pain’s death.
I mean his murder. There’s no way to gloss it over. Sara killed the King of Pain, and she meant to do it — and that’s on top of erasing her parents’ minds, kidnapping my now former boyfriend, and assaulting the rest of the Squad. I don’t know how Sara could possibly dig this hole any deeper.
“Sara, do you have any additional information that was not conveyed in the official account?”
“No, sir,” she says. Under the table, she finds my hand and crushes my fingers.
“I do,” Bart says, jumping in before I can. “It is my professional opinion that Psyche’s judgment at the time was severely impaired due to psychic tampering by the King of Pain. Our case files show a consistent pattern wherein other super-heroes, following encounters with the King of Pain, displayed increasingly erratic and uncharacteristic behavior that, in nearly every case, culminated in a psychotic break.”
“Do you have any proof of your theory?” Edison asks.
“We have precedent.”
“Do you have proof?” Edison poses the question dispassionately, making it clear he’s simply doing his job, and there’s nothing personal at work here.
“I do not,” Bart admits. “Psychic tampering is difficult to detect after the fact, and considering that Psyche was incapacitated immediately following the King of Pain’s demise...”
It’s my turn to crush Sara’s hand. I’m the one who, as Bart so diplomatically stated it, incapacitated Sara. I did that by blasting her in the head at point-blank range. The sound of my concussion blast striking her skull still haunts me.
“I’d like to add something,” Natalie says. “There is a specific case involving the Justice Krewe of New Orleans that mirrors the events of case PR dash oh six dash fourteen. In that incident, team member Airstrike experienced a psychotic break that led to a violent confrontation with his own teammates.”
“Catherine, please add a cross-reference notation,” Edison says. Catherine taps at the tablet. “Thank you. All right, we’ve heard there are possible extenuating circumstances suggesting Psyche’s behavior was somehow influenced by the King of Pain. Sara, do you have anything you’d like to add?”
“No, sir,” she says.
Edison spreads his hand. “Nothing at all?”
“Sara, come on,” I say. “You need to say something in your defense.”
“No, I don’t. Let me save you from wasting any more time,” Sara says to the Protectorate. “I did everything you’re accusing me of. Bart, you can make excuses for me, but I’m not going to make excuses for myself. I’m responsible. And I’m ready to accept whatever punishment you hand out.”
Everyone stares at her, their expressions ranging from shocked to saddened to sympathetic to...um...I’ll put the Entity down for “blank.”
Edison gives the group a solid minute to speak up, a last chance for last words. No one speaks. Edison asks Sara to step out
while the rest of us deliberate. She leaves.
It takes us a while to return to the business at hand. No one seems all that eager to do this. Maybe that’s a good sign.
“The way I see it, we have three possible outcomes here,” Edison says. “First option: we call it an act of self-defense. If we find in favor of self-defense, the matter remains on her record, she’ll be required to undergo counseling with Bart, but that’s about it.
“Option two: we rule that this was a case of negligence and abuse of her powers, resulting in an accidental death. If we go this route, the matter remains internal and we determine her punishment. Probation is a given, but beyond that?” Edison shrugs. “That will be up to us.”
There’s a pause, the moment heavy and somber. What Edison says next causes my stomach to clench.
“If we rule that hers was an act of premeditated murder, we immediately place Sara under arrest and transport her to Byrne, then proceed to file criminal charges. After that point, the matter is in the hands of the court system. I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that pursuing this option will open up a very big, very ugly can of worms. Once charges have been filed, Psyche’s civilian identity would become a matter of public record, and that will almost certainly have unintended consequences for the rest of the Squad.”
Edison doesn’t explain what he means by that, but he doesn’t have to. If Sara’s secret identity is made public, it won’t take long for everyone to figure out who the rest of the Squad are. We’d completely lose our anonymity. Worse, so would our families. We might as well walk around wearing T-shirts with big red bull’s eyes painted on them. But wait, kids, there’s more.
“Further, the Protectorate would face a PR nightmare. We’d have to explain to the police, the DA, and the media why we not only withheld information about this incident, but knowingly and willfully tampered with a crime scene to protect one of our own. Not that we haven’t done that before...”
Wait, what?
“God, Edison, this is enough of a mess as it is,” Natalie says. “Do we really have to drag politics into it?”
“Politics were part of this regardless. I’m simply bringing it to everyone’s attention. Like it or not, it’s a factor we have to consider in our deliberations. So. I know where my mind is on this, but I’d like to hear from everyone else.”
“Option two,” I blurt out. I’m sure everyone expected me to lobby for exoneration. Believe me; I considered it. “Look, there’s no way I’m going to vote to send my best friend to prison for the rest of her life, but she wants to accept responsibility for what happened. I have to respect that.”
I don’t have to like it, but I do have to respect it.
“Besides, it sounds like letting this go public would cause more problems than it would solve,” I add, and yeah, I admit it, my motivations are more than a little selfish here. I’ve made my share of enemies, and the last thing I need is for some murderous nutcase like Manticore to knock on my front door looking to settle old scores.
“I agree,” Catherine says. “There are too many extenuating circumstances in this case to warrant criminal prosecution, but in my opinion, Psyche clearly acted in a manner unbecoming of a member of the Hero Squad. We can’t turn a blind eye to that.”
Edison nods, silently accepting Catherine’s vote. “Astrid?”
“Self-defense. The King of Pain stalked her, went after her family, violated her mind...he would have killed her,” Astrid says. “And from what I’ve seen, the kid’s beating herself up plenty. She doesn’t need us heaping more misery on her.”
Initially, that surprises me; Astrid is well aware that Sara doesn’t like her. But, on the other hand, Astrid also knows what it’s like to sit before a Protectorate tribunal. She was the subject of an inquiry six months ago after the mess on Winter Island, and my vote saved her from getting kicked off the team. I gave her an opportunity to redeem herself, and now she’s paying it forward in Sara’s direction. Someone just earned a lifetime spot on my Christmas card list.
“Entity?” Edison says. This ought to be interesting.
“Self-defense,” the Entity says in his patented lifeless monotone. “It was the King of Pain. We should be thanking her for taking him out, not punishing her.”
Huh.
Edison calls on Natalie next. She’s quiet for a long time, elbows resting on the table, her chin resting in her hands, her eyes narrowed in deep thought. She looks conflicted, which worries me a little. More than anyone on the Protectorate, she’s always been a friend to the Squad. A friend? More like a big sister, always looking out for me and Missy and Sara. She wouldn’t seriously consider prosecuting Sara.
Would she?
“Second option,” Natalie says at last. “All things considered, it’s the most balanced approach. Sara wants to be held accountable. Option two lets her do that but avoids any collateral damage.”
“Self-defense,” Bart says before Edison can call on him. “She wasn’t in control of herself. She can’t be held responsible for her actions. And I think losing her parents is punishment enough.”
That last comment feels like a flagrant cheap shot, but I’m not going to call him on it, especially if it swings the vote in Sara’s favor. Things stand at three votes for self-defense and three for negligence, so now it’s up to Edison to decide whether Sara walks free or submits to having her powers stripped away.
“Option two,” he says. “We find Psyche responsible for negligence and abuse of power resulting in an accidental death. Unless anyone wants to change their vote...?”
No one does, so it’s on to the sentencing phase. Concorde asks for recommendations. I take a breath to steady myself. I almost succeed in keeping my voice from trembling.
“Psychic castration,” I say. “Strip her of her powers.”
Bart balls his fists. Catherine stiffens, her lips pressing into a bloodless line.
“Mindforce, for the official record, could you please explain what psychic castration involves?” Edison says.
“It’s a process by which I enter a psionic’s mind and establish mental blocks, akin to post-hypnotic suggestions, that prevent the psionic from accessing his or her powers,” Bart says, barely above a whisper. “The blocks remain in place until I remove them. It’s a risky procedure,” he adds as if that might sway any opinions, “and it comes with significant psychological impact. A psionic who loses his or her powers is no different than a normal person losing their eyesight or hearing. It’s traumatic.”
“How many of these procedures have you performed?”
“Three voluntary, two involuntary.”
“In the interest of full disclosure, I was one of the involuntary psychic castrations,” Catherine says. “Mindforce performed the procedure on me when I was sixteen, at my parents’ request.”
Whoa. Did not see that one coming.
“Is Mindforce’s characterization of the psychological impacts accurate?” Edison asks.
“It is,” she says, her voice hard.
“Then you would consider the process a suitable form of punishment?”
Catherine, bristling, nods solemnly.
“Would you then recommend it in this case?”
“...Yes.”
Bart bows his head. That’s it, then.
It’s over.
3.
I enter the common room. Sara sits at the table in the small kitchen area, hands folded, eyes closed as if in meditation.
“Sara. They’re ready for you.”
She opens her eyes and stands up. “Let’s go.”
She follows me back to the conference room in silence. She doesn’t ask any questions or try to tease any hints out of me. She doesn’t have to; the bad news is written all over my face.
Edison invites her to sit. She chooses to stand. She’s determined to meet her fate with quiet dignity.
Edison hands down the verdict, pauses to give Sara a moment to digest the results. “I want you to know that no one here took this matter
lightly,” he says, “and we certainly take no joy in this, but we have to balance the circumstances surrounding your actions with the need to hold this team to high standards, and to hold its members accountable for actions that could compromise those standards.”
Says the guy who admitted that the Protectorate has tampered with crime scenes to protect itself.
Easy, Carrie. Throwing out accusations of hypocrisy won’t do Sara any good now — but by God, Edison is going to explain himself.
“I understand,” Sara says.
“As punishment, you will be removed from the rosters of the New England HeroNet, the Protectorate, and the Hero Squad. You will also be placed on indefinite probation, under the supervision of team member Mindforce, who will administer mandatory counseling on a schedule to be determined.”
“Yes, sir.”
Edison clears his throat. “We further sentence you to undergo psychic castration. The procedure is to take place immediately following the adjournment of this tribunal.”
The faintest of faint smiles appears on Sara’s lips. “Yes, sir,” she says.
Sara declines the opportunity to make a final statement. She simply says, “Thank you,” and it isn’t an empty courtesy; she’s sincerely grateful.
“I hereby adjourn this tribunal,” Edison says without ceremony.
One by one, the Protectorate files out of the room. Astrid and Catherine offer brief words of regret. The Entity leaves without saying a word, as does Natalie, who avoids looking at Sara entirely.
“I know you asked Bart to strip away your powers,” Edison says.
“I wanted to take responsibility for what I did,” Sara says.
“I know.” Edison places a hand on her shoulder, an unusually personal gesture for him. “For what it’s worth, I respect that.”
For the first time today, Sara’s stoic demeanor cracks, and her eyes brim with tears. “It’s worth a lot.”
With that, Edison leaves us to our grim business.
“Sara, I’m so sorry,” Bart says. “I tried to avoid this. I thought by calling a tribunal I could convince everyone to give you a second chance.”
Action Figures - Issue Five: Team-Ups Page 2
