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Chapter 6
8 JAN 2013: Washington DC: Congress passes emergency measure to register all Changelings and confirm their identities. The Draft bill remains stuck in the Senate, filibustered by the Republican minority on the grounds that it violates the civil rights of the transformed citizens by subjecting them to a national service requirement that unchanged citizens do not have. The ACLU promises to challenge the legislation in court if it passes in its current form.
* * *
Surveillance satellite coverage of the central Sahara was usually unimportant, and as a result the download from that part of the orbit was usually given to junior personnel. This time, his perfunctory glance at the tape was followed by a triple check of time, date, and location, and then by a phone call to a more senior analyst. “Sir? There’s a town near the Chad-Libyan border that wasn’t there last week. ... No sir, it’s not a work site or Bedouin camp. Stone buildings, population several thousand, and a full lake that’s been a dry bed for centuries according to the geology records.”
* * *
The great dragon stirred in his sleep, then awoke, his eyes glowing in the night. “Summon Chien.” The man arrived a few minutes later, out of breath and pulling on his robe as he bowed. “A complication. Haroun al-Ghul has awoken. I shall need the scrolls dealing with him, and a scribe to hold them for me.” The man bowed. “At once, Honored One.”
* * *
The CIA had had the research facility in place for decades, in spite of occasional embarrassment when someone in Congress noticed it. Project Blue Sky (they’d called it Project Loon unofficially) was the attempt to work with the paranormal – magic, fortune-telling, ESP, all that sort of thing – because the other side was looking at it, too. Just in case there really was something to it. A few of the people on the meager payroll were sincere, most of the rest were charlatans of one sort or another, and it made a convenient place to dump incompetents that they couldn’t fire. Until now.
Stardancer was a third-generation Wiccan, and she’d spent her time working for the CIA by searching out all the old grimoires she could find, and trying to work the spells she’d found in them. She’d had little success in the latter endeavor; little or nothing usually happened and she’d never been able to reproduce any of the minor successes she’d had. But she’d woken up on New Year’s Day after a night of visions, and thrown herself into yet another project. This time the spells worked when she followed the directions. One after another, she brought her fellow believers into her circle – the poseurs she ignored, except for Tad Jefferson, who’d Changed into a humanoid unicorn. Her boss suddenly found himself deluged with demands for information from Langley, and made himself a nuisance until she sealed the doors of the building against him with a spell that previously had only managed to lock a door once. “Tell them it works. Give me a month – give me another week, I think, and I can demonstrate it to everyone in Washington. But until I’m ready, stop interrupting!”
* * *
The first full week of January at the converted BOQ was busy. Ultrasound. X-ray tomography. Magnetic resonance imaging. Blood chemical analysis. Rorschach association tests. Double-blind extra-sensory perception trials. Cardiac stress testing. Electroencephalographic readings. Physical endurance testing. Everyone was exhausted by the end of the week. Doctor Hara was polite about it, as were the people working for him, but nearly everyone was ready for a break, and tired of being poked, prodded and generally harassed. Late Friday afternoon, the three Naval officers and the human woman who'd been assigned as the head of their command's Secret Service contingent were discussing what should be done over the weekend.
The wolf glared at Hara. "I'm just saying, Doctor, that we don't have time to give everyone a break. These are most definitely not normal circumstances, and we can't just go on with business as usual.” She raised clawed fingers one by one as she started down the list. “Oil production has been seriously disrupted; most of the Iraqi and all of the Kuwaiti oil has to run the gamut of the Persian Gulf, as does Saudi crude. If the civil war in Riyadh and Mecca falls out the wrong way, we’ll have to occupy eastern Saudi to maintain access to the fields, and the Army hasn’t a clue yet how to incorporate Changelings – or how to defend against them. If that doesn’t get solved soon, we’re going to have serious problems, and Europe and Japan will be basket cases.” She ticked off that point and raised a second finger. “There are the usual problems with Mexican stability – and we’ve picked up rumors of Changelings on both sides of the border who are apparently interested in causing instability in our Southwest as well as south of the border.” She sighed. “It’s the Aztlan lunatics again, but this time with paranormal backing.” A third finger. “China’s tried to clamp down on information flow, but the Net has let hints get out that they’re having trouble with uprisings in Tibet and Sinkiang. There are some powerful paranormals out there, and some of them are actively hostile to the United States. The Registration and Draft Act is being only sporadically enforced so far – it’s mostly a guideline for what to do with us if we volunteer our services. We need to get everyone we have available organized as soon as humanly possible – if you'll pardon the expression. I think a little overtime is necessary."
Sterling added, "I'm really afraid she's right, Doc. Some of the reports that we've seen – the unrest so far may be only the tip of the iceberg."
Dr. Hara gave the bat a close look. "I still don't know how you two are getting all this information. I don't suppose you're going to enlighten me?" He paused, waiting for an answer, but the bat's eyes were unreadable behind the dark polarized sports goggles they'd made for her, and the wolf just grinned. "Ms. Boyer?"
The special agent glared at the Changeling officers. “I'd rather like to know that myself. It's really as bad as all that?" Lowe nodded.
Hara sighed. "All right, we'll continue tomorrow. Except for the kids, they get the day off, okay?"
Sterling nodded. "The kids can have a day free, and we'll get a few folks to watch them. Maybe Katlynn, she seems to have a knack for it. She's out of the testing loop, she already knows what she can do. And the lightning bolts seem to impress the teenagers, so she can keep them in line too."
Hara frowned. “I'm still worried about Kat's psychological health. This insistence that she has two sets of memories...”
Lowe snorted. “And is that any more impossible than fifteen tons of dragon appearing out of thin air? I suspect she's completely sane.”
Sterling chirriped in annoyance as the ongoing argument threatened to rear its head again. “Not now, please. What about Sunday? There ought to be a chance to attend services, for anyone who wants to. A nondenominational service at the base Chapel? Or... no. How about at the hospital chapel? Should be big enough, and more secure."
The wolf snorted. "Careful, there. I'm pretty sure there are a couple non-Christian religious folks in our little group, and you don't want to play favorites. Hmm... How about if we take a poll at dinner tonight, see who wants to do what, and then we can figure out what will work best. Give them some options if we can. But if you're going to give some folks Sunday off for services, you'd better put me down for an evening off on February seventh." She waited for a heartbeat, letting the two humans and her CO think about that and start to look puzzled. "The next full moon. I told you I was pretty sure we aren't all Christians."
* * *
Sterling walked with her XO back to their shared offices. “So how are you getting all that information? I think you're ahead of the intelligence agencies, even.”
Lowe looked around, then slid up the sleeve of her uniform jacket, revealing the bracelet-computer. “This... came along with the fur on New Year's. No idea how it does it, but I can ask it for any document on the planet, and it will pull it up and translate it if necessary so I can read it.”
The bat nodded. “Some kind of supercomputer?”
Lowe twitched her ears. “Something like that. But... I've tested its capablities. It has to be a document, but the document doesn't have to be online.”
Sterling chuckled. “So you're telling me...” They both chorused it together. “It's maaaaagik!”
* * *
“It is time. Summon Rico.”
The old priest bowed and hurried off. Quetzalcoatl stretched his wings and idly watched a few downy feathers float to the temple floor before returning his gaze to the shimmering pool that occupied the space directly in front of the blood-stained altar. The young coyote arrived before he had time to grow bored, and bowed. “What do you wish of me, Great One?”
The winged snake uncoiled part of his body, revealing the pool. “You told me that these Americans have a line of succession, and from what I have seen, you were quite correct. But what would happen if we took out several of those links at once? Would they not be crippled?”
Rico frowned. “I do not truly know, Great One. In truth, it has never happened in such a manner. Presidents have died, or been killed, and once one was forced to abdicate – but always there was a Vice President ready to take the reins. If you should remove him as well, and perhaps the leaders of the Congress and some of his advisers – the Cabinet, they call them – it would certainly create confusion.”
The snake nodded. “Congress?” His laughter was a serpentine hiss. “Old ones who do nothing but talk.”
“They are important to the Americans, Great One.”
“Then we should have no problem removing them as a Power in the world. There is a meeting of the American leader and his advisors happening right now. You control the Fire. Can you burn them?”
Rico's ears went flat. “At this range? I do not know if I can reach that far, Great One. I will try.”
“Use the pool to focus on them, my servant. I would prefer to have them on my altar, but this will have to do for now.”
The coyote moved forward to stare into the pool. “Yes. The American leader and his chief servants are there.” He continued to stare, and his eyes began to glow as he focused his power.
The serpent settled back on his coils, hissing contentedly as the pool showed them the image of the Cabinet Room bursting into flame.
* * *
Sterling and Lowe looked up from their work as Yeoman Ford opened the door. “Ma'am? There's something on the news that you need to see.” The wolf gasped as she read his emotions and nearly ran him over on her way out of the office. The bat followed close on her heels.
“.... unknown what started the fire at this time, but the President and Vice President were both present for a Cabinet meeting, and we have no word on either of them, or any of the Cabinet members present. Again, the First Lady and their children have been evacuated from the White House in the wake of a fire and the apparent failure of all fire suppression measures in the West Wing.” The picture showed flames roaring into the night from the building, while trucks poured water onto the blaze with little effect. The reporter kept repeating the few bits of information he had in as many different ways as he could think of.
Lowe glanced at Sterling. “What do you think?”
The bat was chittering in fury, her ultrasonic trills and hunting calls making the wolf wince when they dropped into the canine's hearing range. “A paranormal attack. Has to be. But who?”
Lowe snorted. “Russia. China. Al Qaeda or one of the other Muslim fanatic groups, if they could be persuaded not to kill someone with this kind of power. Our own home-grown fanatics, even, KKK or a militia. Venezuela or Cuba. Could even be the Puerto Rican separatists or those Mexican partisans or some completely independent nutjob.”
The voice on the television spoke again, even as two figures in Nomex suits emerged from the conflagration. “This just in. Secretary of State Kerry has been taken to Bethesda in critical condition, due to burns. No word on the President or the rest of the Cabinet... we take you now to Capitol Hill.”
The picture shifted to the House chamber, packed with Congressmen and Senators. Speaker Boehner gaveled for silence. “My fellow Americans.” The normally photogenic face was drawn and worried, and behind him stood a pair of human Secret Service guards, and a Changeling skunk dressed in the same manner. He paused, and started over. “My fellow Americans. We face a national tragedy tonight. Both the President and the Vice President have perished in what is suspected to be a paranormal attack on the White House, along with the majority of the Cabinet. In accordance with the Presidential Succession Act of 1947, it falls upon me to assume the mantle of the Presidency for what should have been President Obama’s second term. It is with a heavy heart that I take up this responsibility, and I would ask all of you to join me in a moment of prayer before I take the oath of office.”
Sterling bowed her head as the Congressional Chaplain began to speak. Lowe twitched an ear at that, but remained respectfully quiet until the final 'amen'. “I think that the opposition to the Draft Act has just gone up in smoke.”
“I, John Andrew Boehner, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God...”
* * *
The feathered serpent's good humor had evaporated quickly in his sudden frustration. “Why can I not see this Congress of theirs? They cannot have developed the ability to block the Pool of Sight so quickly! The Change has only just begun, and they have naught but machines!”
Rico tried not to flinch at the voice – the effort he'd put out to reach Washington with his powers had strained him to his limit and past, and the reaction had bought him a splitting headache. “I do not know, my Lord. Perhaps they have found a natural adept? I fear I cannot duplicate what I just did tonight, even if we could see them. I... I have...” He collapsed.
Quetzalcoatl hissed in annoyance and gestured to the high priest with a wingtip. “Have him removed. He has done well enough for now... treat him with honor.”
The ancient nodded. “As you command, Great One.” A gesture brought two underpriests forward, who picked up the coyote and gently carried him away.
* * *
24 JAN 2013: The Paranormal Draft and Registration Act passes nearly unanimously in both the House and Senate. President Boehner signs bill immediately on passage. Funerals to be held tomorrow for President Obama and Vice President Biden.
* * *
The great dragon roused from his meditation, annoyed. "Foolish creatures. The Americans are not yet familiar with the new realities of power, but they are clever mongrels. And the snake does not understand them at all. He has managed to replace an inept leader with one who may prove more capable." He snorted, the gust of wind billowing Chien's robes around him as he waited for orders. "Let us make sure the Americans do not become overly knowledgeable. See if you can direct their attention toward the culprits in last night's events. Give them something to chase with their machines, rather than give them an incentive to exploit the new powers."
Chapter 6
8 JAN 2013: Washington DC: Congress passes emergency measure to register all Changelings and confirm their identities. The Draft bill remains stuck in the Senate, filibustered by the Republican minority on the grounds that it violates the civil rights of the transformed citizens by subjecting them to a national service requirement that unchanged citizens do not have. The ACLU promises to challenge the legislation in court if it passes in its current form.
* * *
Surveillance satellite coverage of the central Sahara was usually unimportant, and as a result the download from that part of the orbit was usually given to junior personnel. This time, his perfunctory glance at the tape was followed by a triple check of time, date, and location, and then by a phone call to a more senior analyst. “Sir? There’s a town near the Chad-Libyan border that wasn’t there last week. ... No sir, it’s not a work site or Bedouin camp. Stone buildings, population several thousand, and a full lake that’s been a dry bed for centuries according to the geology records.”
* * *
The great dragon stirred in his sleep, then awoke, his eyes glowing in the night. “Summon Chien.” The man arrived a few minutes later, out of breath and pulling on his robe as he bowed. “A complication. Haroun al-Ghul has awoken. I shall need the scrolls dealing with him, and a scribe to hold them for me.” The man bowed. “At once, Honored One.”
* * *
The CIA had had the research facility in place for decades, in spite of occasional embarrassment when someone in Congress noticed it. Project Blue Sky (they’d called it Project Loon unofficially) was the attempt to work with the paranormal – magic, fortune-telling, ESP, all that sort of thing – because the other side was looking at it, too. Just in case there really was something to it. A few of the people on the meager payroll were sincere, most of the rest were charlatans of one sort or another, and it made a convenient place to dump incompetents that they couldn’t fire. Until now.
Stardancer was a third-generation Wiccan, and she’d spent her time working for the CIA by searching out all the old grimoires she could find, and trying to work the spells she’d found in them. She’d had little success in the latter endeavor; little or nothing usually happened and she’d never been able to reproduce any of the minor successes she’d had. But she’d woken up on New Year’s Day after a night of visions, and thrown herself into yet another project. This time the spells worked when she followed the directions. One after another, she brought her fellow believers into her circle – the poseurs she ignored, except for Tad Jefferson, who’d Changed into a humanoid unicorn. Her boss suddenly found himself deluged with demands for information from Langley, and made himself a nuisance until she sealed the doors of the building against him with a spell that previously had only managed to lock a door once. “Tell them it works. Give me a month – give me another week, I think, and I can demonstrate it to everyone in Washington. But until I’m ready, stop interrupting!”
* * *
The first full week of January at the converted BOQ was busy. Ultrasound. X-ray tomography. Magnetic resonance imaging. Blood chemical analysis. Rorschach association tests. Double-blind extra-sensory perception trials. Cardiac stress testing. Electroencephalographic readings. Physical endurance testing. Everyone was exhausted by the end of the week. Doctor Hara was polite about it, as were the people working for him, but nearly everyone was ready for a break, and tired of being poked, prodded and generally harassed. Late Friday afternoon, the three Naval officers and the human woman who'd been assigned as the head of their command's Secret Service contingent were discussing what should be done over the weekend.
The wolf glared at Hara. "I'm just saying, Doctor, that we don't have time to give everyone a break. These are most definitely not normal circumstances, and we can't just go on with business as usual.” She raised clawed fingers one by one as she started down the list. “Oil production has been seriously disrupted; most of the Iraqi and all of the Kuwaiti oil has to run the gamut of the Persian Gulf, as does Saudi crude. If the civil war in Riyadh and Mecca falls out the wrong way, we’ll have to occupy eastern Saudi to maintain access to the fields, and the Army hasn’t a clue yet how to incorporate Changelings – or how to defend against them. If that doesn’t get solved soon, we’re going to have serious problems, and Europe and Japan will be basket cases.” She ticked off that point and raised a second finger. “There are the usual problems with Mexican stability – and we’ve picked up rumors of Changelings on both sides of the border who are apparently interested in causing instability in our Southwest as well as south of the border.” She sighed. “It’s the Aztlan lunatics again, but this time with paranormal backing.” A third finger. “China’s tried to clamp down on information flow, but the Net has let hints get out that they’re having trouble with uprisings in Tibet and Sinkiang. There are some powerful paranormals out there, and some of them are actively hostile to the United States. The Registration and Draft Act is being only sporadically enforced so far – it’s mostly a guideline for what to do with us if we volunteer our services. We need to get everyone we have available organized as soon as humanly possible – if you'll pardon the expression. I think a little overtime is necessary."
Sterling added, "I'm really afraid she's right, Doc. Some of the reports that we've seen – the unrest so far may be only the tip of the iceberg."
Dr. Hara gave the bat a close look. "I still don't know how you two are getting all this information. I don't suppose you're going to enlighten me?" He paused, waiting for an answer, but the bat's eyes were unreadable behind the dark polarized sports goggles they'd made for her, and the wolf just grinned. "Ms. Boyer?"
The special agent glared at the Changeling officers. “I'd rather like to know that myself. It's really as bad as all that?" Lowe nodded.
Hara sighed. "All right, we'll continue tomorrow. Except for the kids, they get the day off, okay?"
Sterling nodded. "The kids can have a day free, and we'll get a few folks to watch them. Maybe Katlynn, she seems to have a knack for it. She's out of the testing loop, she already knows what she can do. And the lightning bolts seem to impress the teenagers, so she can keep them in line too."
Hara frowned. “I'm still worried about Kat's psychological health. This insistence that she has two sets of memories...”
Lowe snorted. “And is that any more impossible than fifteen tons of dragon appearing out of thin air? I suspect she's completely sane.”
Sterling chirriped in annoyance as the ongoing argument threatened to rear its head again. “Not now, please. What about Sunday? There ought to be a chance to attend services, for anyone who wants to. A nondenominational service at the base Chapel? Or... no. How about at the hospital chapel? Should be big enough, and more secure."
The wolf snorted. "Careful, there. I'm pretty sure there are a couple non-Christian religious folks in our little group, and you don't want to play favorites. Hmm... How about if we take a poll at dinner tonight, see who wants to do what, and then we can figure out what will work best. Give them some options if we can. But if you're going to give some folks Sunday off for services, you'd better put me down for an evening off on February seventh." She waited for a heartbeat, letting the two humans and her CO think about that and start to look puzzled. "The next full moon. I told you I was pretty sure we aren't all Christians."
* * *
Sterling walked with her XO back to their shared offices. “So how are you getting all that information? I think you're ahead of the intelligence agencies, even.”
Lowe looked around, then slid up the sleeve of her uniform jacket, revealing the bracelet-computer. “This... came along with the fur on New Year's. No idea how it does it, but I can ask it for any document on the planet, and it will pull it up and translate it if necessary so I can read it.”
The bat nodded. “Some kind of supercomputer?”
Lowe twitched her ears. “Something like that. But... I've tested its capablities. It has to be a document, but the document doesn't have to be online.”
Sterling chuckled. “So you're telling me...” They both chorused it together. “It's maaaaagik!”
* * *
“It is time. Summon Rico.”
The old priest bowed and hurried off. Quetzalcoatl stretched his wings and idly watched a few downy feathers float to the temple floor before returning his gaze to the shimmering pool that occupied the space directly in front of the blood-stained altar. The young coyote arrived before he had time to grow bored, and bowed. “What do you wish of me, Great One?”
The winged snake uncoiled part of his body, revealing the pool. “You told me that these Americans have a line of succession, and from what I have seen, you were quite correct. But what would happen if we took out several of those links at once? Would they not be crippled?”
Rico frowned. “I do not truly know, Great One. In truth, it has never happened in such a manner. Presidents have died, or been killed, and once one was forced to abdicate – but always there was a Vice President ready to take the reins. If you should remove him as well, and perhaps the leaders of the Congress and some of his advisers – the Cabinet, they call them – it would certainly create confusion.”
The snake nodded. “Congress?” His laughter was a serpentine hiss. “Old ones who do nothing but talk.”
“They are important to the Americans, Great One.”
“Then we should have no problem removing them as a Power in the world. There is a meeting of the American leader and his advisors happening right now. You control the Fire. Can you burn them?”
Rico's ears went flat. “At this range? I do not know if I can reach that far, Great One. I will try.”
“Use the pool to focus on them, my servant. I would prefer to have them on my altar, but this will have to do for now.”
The coyote moved forward to stare into the pool. “Yes. The American leader and his chief servants are there.” He continued to stare, and his eyes began to glow as he focused his power.
The serpent settled back on his coils, hissing contentedly as the pool showed them the image of the Cabinet Room bursting into flame.
* * *
Sterling and Lowe looked up from their work as Yeoman Ford opened the door. “Ma'am? There's something on the news that you need to see.” The wolf gasped as she read his emotions and nearly ran him over on her way out of the office. The bat followed close on her heels.
“.... unknown what started the fire at this time, but the President and Vice President were both present for a Cabinet meeting, and we have no word on either of them, or any of the Cabinet members present. Again, the First Lady and their children have been evacuated from the White House in the wake of a fire and the apparent failure of all fire suppression measures in the West Wing.” The picture showed flames roaring into the night from the building, while trucks poured water onto the blaze with little effect. The reporter kept repeating the few bits of information he had in as many different ways as he could think of.
Lowe glanced at Sterling. “What do you think?”
The bat was chittering in fury, her ultrasonic trills and hunting calls making the wolf wince when they dropped into the canine's hearing range. “A paranormal attack. Has to be. But who?”
Lowe snorted. “Russia. China. Al Qaeda or one of the other Muslim fanatic groups, if they could be persuaded not to kill someone with this kind of power. Our own home-grown fanatics, even, KKK or a militia. Venezuela or Cuba. Could even be the Puerto Rican separatists or those Mexican partisans or some completely independent nutjob.”
The voice on the television spoke again, even as two figures in Nomex suits emerged from the conflagration. “This just in. Secretary of State Kerry has been taken to Bethesda in critical condition, due to burns. No word on the President or the rest of the Cabinet... we take you now to Capitol Hill.”
The picture shifted to the House chamber, packed with Congressmen and Senators. Speaker Boehner gaveled for silence. “My fellow Americans.” The normally photogenic face was drawn and worried, and behind him stood a pair of human Secret Service guards, and a Changeling skunk dressed in the same manner. He paused, and started over. “My fellow Americans. We face a national tragedy tonight. Both the President and the Vice President have perished in what is suspected to be a paranormal attack on the White House, along with the majority of the Cabinet. In accordance with the Presidential Succession Act of 1947, it falls upon me to assume the mantle of the Presidency for what should have been President Obama’s second term. It is with a heavy heart that I take up this responsibility, and I would ask all of you to join me in a moment of prayer before I take the oath of office.”
Sterling bowed her head as the Congressional Chaplain began to speak. Lowe twitched an ear at that, but remained respectfully quiet until the final 'amen'. “I think that the opposition to the Draft Act has just gone up in smoke.”
“I, John Andrew Boehner, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God...”
* * *
The feathered serpent's good humor had evaporated quickly in his sudden frustration. “Why can I not see this Congress of theirs? They cannot have developed the ability to block the Pool of Sight so quickly! The Change has only just begun, and they have naught but machines!”
Rico tried not to flinch at the voice – the effort he'd put out to reach Washington with his powers had strained him to his limit and past, and the reaction had bought him a splitting headache. “I do not know, my Lord. Perhaps they have found a natural adept? I fear I cannot duplicate what I just did tonight, even if we could see them. I... I have...” He collapsed.
Quetzalcoatl hissed in annoyance and gestured to the high priest with a wingtip. “Have him removed. He has done well enough for now... treat him with honor.”
The ancient nodded. “As you command, Great One.” A gesture brought two underpriests forward, who picked up the coyote and gently carried him away.
* * *
24 JAN 2013: The Paranormal Draft and Registration Act passes nearly unanimously in both the House and Senate. President Boehner signs bill immediately on passage. Funerals to be held tomorrow for President Obama and Vice President Biden.
* * *
The great dragon roused from his meditation, annoyed. "Foolish creatures. The Americans are not yet familiar with the new realities of power, but they are clever mongrels. And the snake does not understand them at all. He has managed to replace an inept leader with one who may prove more capable." He snorted, the gust of wind billowing Chien's robes around him as he waited for orders. "Let us make sure the Americans do not become overly knowledgeable. See if you can direct their attention toward the culprits in last night's events. Give them something to chase with their machines, rather than give them an incentive to exploit the new powers."
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