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Childhood Moments
-Prequel to New Beginnings-
A Colmaton Universe fanfic.
Colmaton Universe is the creation of Train.
Bureau of Superheroes, Regional Directors, Legal Beagle, Liberty Belle, Mighty Mule, and Atomic Ape are the property of Mojorover.
Betsy Ross is the property of BossHoss
All other characters are original to me.
2 August 2002
Potter County General Hospital, Coudersport, PA
“And... one more push, Mrs. Yeager, you're almost there....”
The raccoon femme on the table groaned at her obstetrician, a middle-aged pinto mare. “That's what you said the -last- time, Doc.”
“That was to keep your hopes up, Molly. This time I actually mean it. Her head is fully crowned. Just one more...”
With a convulsive gasp, the raccoon pushed once more, and a moment later was rewarded by the first upset cry of her newborn daughter. She sank back onto the table, exhausted by the ordeal, and let the nurses fuss over her as they dealt with the details of cleaning up after the delivery. Doctor Sandra White frowned as she lifted the newborn. <What the heck? How much does this kid -weigh-?> The scale confirmed her confused first impression. “Congratulations, Mrs. Yeager. You are the mother of a beautiful baby girl. Length, seventeen inches. Weight... twenty-four pounds, twelve ounces??!”
4 September 2002
The mare smiled as the raccoon femme brought her baby into the doctor's office for her one-month checkup and shots. “So how is she, Molly? She got over that lethargy all right?”
“Well, she's more active, and she's certainly gaining weight now. You were right, the iron supplements helped a lot, and so did augmenting with formula. She's up to thirty-two pounds, she's drinking me dry, and she's putting away four extra bottles of formula every day! Level with me, Doc. There's something -really- odd about her, isn't there?”
The mare chuckled. “Every baby is different. Young Sally is just out at one end of the bell curve.”
The raccoon stared at her, eyebrows leveled. “She's my fourth, Doc. I know what to expect. Sally is so far off the bell curve she might as well be on a different planet.”
The mare shifted her eyes away from that stare. “There's bell curves, and then there's bell curves, Molly. At this point, I don't -know- anything. But... is there anything odd in your family history? Or your husband's?”
“Only odd thing is my grandfather Earl. He's seventy-six and doesn't look a day over thirty-five.” She harrumphed. “Doesn't act like it, either.”
The mare twitched an ear at that. “Really? Do you have his phone number? I might just want to talk to him.”
12 February 2003
“Doc! Meet me at the emergency room! Sally swallowed a nail!”
“Calm down, Molly! Is she bleeding? In pain?”
“Well, no, not yet. I was working out in the barn, put her on her blanket. She rolled herself over, crabbed over to the edge of it, and I was watching her, she picked it up and stuffed it in her mouth before I could get there to stop her!”
“Why didn't you have her in a playpen, Molly?”
The pause on the other end of the line went on for too long. “Molly?”
“She -broke- it. When she started moving on her own? She tore right through the mesh.”
“She still has that wrench she's so fond of?”
“We can't get it away from her. But...”
“But? Talk to me, Molly. You're right, she's not a normal kid. I need all the information I can get.”
“It looks like it's been gnawed on.”
The mare chuckled. “Well, she -is- a baby.”
“But it's a -wrench-! It's bent now, and the handle is worn, and... and... “
“And...?”
“And there's a piece -missing-.”
“Bring her in, Molly. We'll take the x-rays. But I suspect she's fine.”
The porcupine tech was very apologetic. “Sorry about the picture quality, Doctor White. I don't know what happened. The machine checks out fine, but the picture seems way underexposed, and at her age I can't risk another shot.”
“That's all right, Robbie. She's an unusual kid. Do us a favor, and don't talk to -anyone- about this.”
“I have to do the paperwork, Doc, you know that.”
“So do I, Robbie. But there's paperwork, and then there's telling good stories to your buddies over a beer. You were in the Navy, right?”
“As a Pharmacist's Assistant, yeah. It's where I learned how to do this stuff.”
“Treat this as Top Secret. For the family's own good.”
“You serious, Doctor?”
“As a heart attack. Kid was brought in because she swallowed a six-penny nail. Granted, the x-ray is hard to make out, but... do you see a nail that size in her stomach?”
“There's these two bits here - if they're metal, they could be finishing brads. And this one, looks like part of a washer.”
“Yeah. -Part- of a washer. I think she's -digesting- it. The kid's only seven months old, and you saw how big she is, how much she weighs.”
“Seven months?? You sure of that, Doc?”
“Delivered her myself, Robbie. She weighed nearly twenty-five pounds -then-.”
The porcupine whistled softly. “She's gonna be a BIG girl when she grows up, isn't she?”
The mare snorted a laugh. “I think that's a safe bet. Now I'm going to go reassure the family that she's fine. And you're going to fill out the required paperwork, and we're both going to hope it gets buried in the tons of paperwork the government makes all of us medical folk generate every day. I'd rather not record anything, but missing paperwork raises a lot more flags than odd entries. Be as generic as you can, though.”
“Got it, Doc.”
22 December 2010
The barn was dim and warm, and thick with the scent of livestock. The youngster was sitting next to the heifer that she'd taken care of since her birth the previous summer. “It's not -fair-, Brownie. I'm -big-, but I'm not -fat-. Why does Mary have to pick on me all the time?” The heifer mooed sympathetically, and rubbed her head against the raccoon girl. The young animal had no idea why this particular two-leg had such wonderful bristly fur for scratching herself against, but she wasn't going to miss the opportunity while she was here. She'd tried nibbling it sometimes, but it didn't taste good.
“Sally? You in here?”
She turned at the sound of the voice. “Bill? Is that you?”
“Sure is. How's my favorite little cousin?”
She sniffled. “Big and fat, according to my ex-friends. What are you doing here already? Thought your family was coming up on Christmas Eve?”
“Meh. I was already most of the way here at Penn State. Why drive all the way home for a day and a half, and then drive all the way up here again?” He leaned on the railing of the stall. “Hmm. They've got a point about the big, I'm afraid. You're nearly as tall as I am already. Nothing wrong with that, though. Maybe you have a future in the Women's Basketball League.”
Sally chuckled through her tears. “I'm glad you're here, cuz. Sometimes I think you're the only one who understands me at all.”
William Thompson, freshman in geology at Penn State, looked a little uncomfortable. “Your parents try to understand you, Sally, you know that. And they and your brothers and sisters love you, even when they don't understand.”
“I know. But I'm -different-. I'm big. I'm -fat-. Don't kid me, Bill. You know why they call me fat? I -broke- the nurse's scale when they weighed us at school! I told her it wouldn't weigh me, the one last year didn't go high enough! Four hundred pounds, and it wasn't enough! And this year, we had a new school nurse, she wouldn't believe me, and when I stepped on the scale, something snapped! And it stopped working!” She held her cousin, crying onto his shoulder, but careful even in her emotional haze to let -him- hug -her-. She'd managed to crack one of her brother Tommy's ribs two years before by hugging him too hard, and she'd only gotten stronger since then.
Bill let her sob for a bit, holding her as tightly as he could and patting her back. “There, there... shush... it'll be all right. I know it's hard, but it'll be all right...” He let go and moved her away, holding onto her shoulders to look her in the eyes. “And no, you're not fat. The correct word is dense, but you don't want to tell your friends that, either. It means heavy, like iron or gold, but they'll pretend it means stupid.”
“...NOT my friends any more...”
“Even more reason not to give them ammunition. Sally... I'm going to tell you a secret. I'm not sure you're really old enough yet, but you need to know anyway. But you can't tell -anyone- else, not even your family. Promise?”
“Nobody?”
“Nobody. Not even Brownie.”
She giggled through residual tears. “Now who could -she- tell?”
Bill quirked an eyebrow at her. “You'd be surprised. Promise?”
“Okay, promise. Sorry Brownie. You'll just have to be curious.” Brownie mooed, hiding any disappointment quite well.
He grinned. “C'mon outside. We'll take a walk out to the woodlot. I'll need to show you something or you won't believe me.”
The woodlot was on a hilly portion of the property, second growth forest since the logging boom had ended a century ago. From the edge, one could look out over the valley where the Allegheny River began; deeper in, you could be hidden from prying eyes. Bill led the way deep into the forest.
“So what's this big secret?”
“This.” Her cousin's blue-gray eyes started glowing, and then the wind picked up, swirling leaves and twigs – and he rose up off the ground.
“Whoa! How are you doing that? And why do your eyes glow?”
“Do they? I didn't actually know that.” He let himself drop back to the ground, and his eyes went back to normal. “Never looked in a mirror while I was doing that... what color?”
“Kinda blue-white.” It hit her, then, and she squealed in excitement. “Eeeee!! You're a superhero!!!”
“Well, not yet. But I'm going to be, eventually. For now, I'm going to college, training, and practicing.”
Sally was practically bouncing. “That is soooo coool! You're a super! And I know your secret identity!And.... ” Her face fell. “And I can never tell -anyone-?”
“Nope. Not even Brownie. There -are- supervillains who can talk to animals, y'know.”
“There are?”
“Yep. Now, the -reason- I told you...”
“You think...?”
“I'm sure of it, Sally. You chew on tools, you broke a scale that goes up to four hundred pounds – and I saw you move that radial saw for your dad last year.”
“... that wasn't hard.”
“You were seven! You picked it up with one hand. Most grown-ups couldn't manage more than drag it across the floor with two. I don't think you realize just how strong you are compared to the rest of us. I couldn't do that, and I'm a super myself. I just control weather.”
“So... I'm going to be a superhero when I grow up?”
“If you want. You don't have to be.”
“Hmmmph. If they keep treating me bad, maybe I'll be a supervillain instead.”
Bill chuckled, forcing himself to smile and stay calm. “You don't mean that, Sally.”
“Nooo... not really. But... sometimes I want to hit people.”
His smile was more genuine this time. “Heh. Welcome to the club, cousin. Though I usually want to do this to them...” He pointed, and a miniature lightning bolt flared between his hand and an innocent boulder, to Sally's amusement. “But there are some nasty folks out there. So I brought you an extra present this year.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace, a gold chain with a heart pendant.
The young girl smiled. “That's pretty! Is it real gold?”
“Gold-plated. The chain is actually titanium alloy underneath the plating. But it's also a beacon. If anything happens to you, if the bad guys figure out what you can do and come after you, this will tell the Bureau where you are.” He held it out to her.
“Wow. This is real stuff, isn't it?”
“As real as it gets, Sally. As real as it gets. You're way too young for this, but... whether I like it or not, whether you like it or not, whether the Bureau likes it or not... you're a super, and if you mess up, people might get killed.”
Sally reached out for it, very slowly. “This is scary all of a sudden, cuz.”
“Yes. It is. Do your best not to show off in public, don't let the bullies annoy you – they're just jealous anyway - and if you ever need me for anything at all, you can call day or night.”
She nodded, and put the pendant around her neck. They stood there for a while, looking out over the valley as it got dark and the lights came on. “Bill? Can you make it snow?”
He chuckled. “You want a White Christmas?”
“Yeah. Not a blizzard or anything, just a nice couple inches of fresh snow. It's always so pretty when it's fresh.”
“I need time to set up something big like that. And we should let the rest of the family get here first. How about if it starts while we're at church Christmas Eve?”
She gave him a gentle hug. “That'd be perfect.”
23 March 2015
Sally sighed as she heard the footsteps pelting down the hall. She stepped around the corner and glared. There were four boys involved. Three of them she'd known for years, and never liked. They were chasing the fourth. Matthias Goldberg was the new kid in the seventh grade class this year, a mouse with a Bronx accent that was thick enough to give even some of the teachers trouble understanding him.
Matthias gave a glad cry when he saw her. “Sally! Help!” He dashed in behind the raccoon and peered around her, while the other three skidded to a stop.
“Bobby, Frank, and of course Richard. Haven't we had this dance before?”
The young jackal and bull hung back behind their ringleader. The young bear growled at the raccoon who towered over him by over a foot. “You stay out of this, freak. No one wants to dance with you.”
“It's an expression, bone-brain. I don't actually want to dance with -you-, either. As for staying out of it... Maybe I will, and maybe I won't. What are you claiming he did this time?”
“Ain't none a' your business, freak. He needs to get what's coming to him.”
“Ah, the bully code. Reality bites, so it must be someone else's fault. Matt? Did you manage to offend the Three Stooges here somehow, or is it just random violence because it's Monday?”
“'E's been makin' me do 'is 'omewoik. 'Asn't loined a t'ing. So 'e tries to copy off me test Friday. 'E 'anded it in, an' den I coirected me answers. Now 'e's mad 'cause 'e got an F.”
Sally snorted. “Good one! High five, little dude.” Matt smacked her outstretched palm and winced. She raised an eyebrow at the trio. “You're still here?”
“This ain't over, pipsqueak. She won't be there to hide behind all the time.”
“He turns up hurt, Richard, and I'll make sure you turn up just as hurt. Now go study or something. Maybe they'll let you retake that test.” The mouse started making squeaky 'pip' noises from behind her. “Matt... don't encourage him.”
“Sorry.” He waited until the three had wandered away to their next classes as he walked with the raccoon to the lunchroom. “T'anks. I don't care what dem goils say aboutcha, you're de best, Sally.”
“I've heard most of it, I think. But you want to be careful. I'm Queen of the Freaks, remember? Everyone who hangs out with me is lame, or a loser, or a coward, or just plain weird, right? You'll never fit in with anyone else once you've got that rep.”
“Dey hung dat label on me de foist day I showed up, Sal. 'Cause dey all talks funny an' I don't.”
Sally snickered. “One way of looking at it, I suppose. But if you don't mind being part of the Freak Squad, I'm glad to have you.”
There was a note waiting for her when she got to math class. “Mrs. French wants to see you again, Sally.” Mr. Wilkins actually liked his oversized student, and the raven sometimes suspected that that was why the principal kept pulling her out of -his- class when she was upset with her. “Here's today's assignment if she doesn't let you get back.”
Sally sighed. “I think I know what it is. But thanks, sir. I appreciate that you do that for me. Miss Hunsicker always gives me a zero when I get pulled out of -her- class.”
The old bird clicked his beak. “Really? She's not allowed to do that. I'll look into it for you. But you'd better see what they think you've done now.”
Sally headed down the hall toward the office. <Bet I know. Rick the Dick was probably complaining to his mommy already.> She went into the outer office, and nodded to the secretary.
Mrs. Lafferty rolled her eyes ( a very expressive thing on a chameleon). “Again, Sally?”
“Again. My 'popular' classmates have decided that I am Queen of the Freaks and my existence offends them because I defend all my fellow outcasts. So they tell lies about me, and Mrs. French believes them.”
“You -do- seem to have a great deal of trouble following school policies, Miss Yeager.” Sally turned around at the all-too-familiar voice of the sparrow femme who was principal of the school. “Into my office, please.” A minute later, she was standing in front of the sparrow's desk. “We have heard from Mrs. Brown again. Why do you keep threatening young Richard?”
“All I ever say to him, Mrs. French, is that anything that he does to my friends will happen to him. If he had no plans to bother my friends, he would have nothing to worry about.”
“Mrs. Brown told me that you threatened him today at lunch after interrupting a conversation he was having.”
“A conversation, he called it? He was chasing Matt Goldberg down the hall and threatening to pound him. I interrupted it by letting Matt hide behind me. Did Mrs. Brown tell you about -that- part?”
“We have a zero tolerance policy in this school, Miss Yeager. Fighting is always wrong.”
The young raccoon merely raised an eyebrow at that. “Y'know, Mrs. French, my great-grandfather fought in the Second World War. Was -that- wrong?”
“That was -different-, young lady. Furs are -better- than that now.”
Sally raised her other eyebrow to join the first. “With all due respect, Mrs. French... do you ever watch the news?”
“I don't much care for your attitude, Yeager. Your older siblings were bad enough, but you are incorrigible!”
Sally grinned. “Yep. We're a feisty lot, we Yeagers. We get it from Great-grampa. We believe in self-defense. Are you going to try to suspend me again?”
The sparrow's glare should have been able to melt porcelain. “I'm watching you, Yeager. You keep dancing on the line, and someday you are going to step over it. And when you do...” She paused. “What did you do with your fur, young lady?”
Sally frowned, puzzled by the change of subject. “Hu-whah? I haven't done anything to it, Mrs. French.”
“Don't lie to me, young lady. You've put glitter in it.”
“...Glitter...?” She looked at her arm more closely, and ran her fingers through the fur. “Huh. That's new... it -does- kind of glitter, doesn't it?”
“You had better wash that out tonight, Miss Yeager. The dress code forbids distracting hair and fur styling.”
“Yeah... except this isn't styling. It's natural.” <Or at least as natural as anything -else- about me...>
“Nonsense. You get rid of that, or I -will- have you suspended. Now get back to class.”
She caught the second half of her math class, and hung back when the bell rang. “Mr. Wilkins, can I talk to you for a minute?”
The raven smiled at her. “I've got a study hall next period, Sally. We can talk as long as you like if you come with me. What's wrong?”
“It... is my fur... -distracting-?”
“Distracting, dear girl? Whatever brought this on?” The light dawned a moment later, and his exclamation was simultaneous with Sally's answer. “Mrs. French.”
Sally nodded. “She thinks I put glitter in it, and she wants to suspend me on the grounds of it being distracting. But since I -didn't-, I -can't- wash it out. Is it really distracting?”
Wilkins had leaned closer and was peering at her fur. “May I?” She nodded and held up her arm. “Hmm. It -is- a bit glittery, but it's -in- the fur, not stuck to it.” He shook his head. “Certainly not distracting, it's barely noticeable at any distance.”
“Would you stick up for me?”
“I'd be happy to, young lady. Not sure it'll help, she gets along with me almost as well as she gets along with you, but I'll do my best. Better run along now.”
“Thanks, Mr. Wilkins!”
Her bus driver reserved the right front seat for her, and had been doing so since the second week of junior high. She'd asked him why, and his response had been half-embarrassed and half-puzzled. “Don't know how much you weigh, kid, but I can -feel- the bus creak when you get on. That's the safest spot for you, and has the least stress on the frame.” She still hadn't gotten up the nerve to tell him how heavy she actually was, but she didn't really mind the spot. It was easier than squeezing down the aisle, anyway.
So she had a front row seat for the accident that afternoon.
The truck was just coming down the hill from the east when its brakes failed. Air horn blaring, the driver did his best to control the vehicle, but the stopped traffic in front of the school zone was more than he could handle. Three cars moved out of his path, and a fourth nearly made it before being clipped and spun into the opposite lane. The bus that was just pulling out, unfortunately, simply didn't have the ability to move fast enough to get clear. The truck driver held on as long as he could, using the engine to slow his rig down – and at the last minute he yanked the steering wheel violently to the left. The rig jacknifed to the left, slid almost to a stop, and then the trailer toppled sideways onto the bus that had just pulled out.
Sally was on her feet almost before the collision had ground to a halt. “Let me out!”
The driver turned, surprised. “Let the professionals handle the first aid, girl.”
“Let. Me. Out. This isn't about first aid, it's about rescue.”
“Not sure what you're thinkin' you can--”
“NOW!” She grabbed the handle and yanked it hard enough to slam the door open with the smash-and-tinkle of broken glass, and was through it before he could even try to stop her. She raced to the collision, hearing the cries of her trapped fellow students and the groan of overstressed metal as the trailer settled farther down onto the bent bus frame, shrinking the space left for the kids on its left side.
“Not. Today.” She ran past the next bus and then she was between the damaged one and the leaning trailer. “Not!” She grabbed hold of the trailer frame, her claws punching through the thin metal of the trailer shell. “On!” She heaved upward, the trailer straightening up and relieving the stress on the bus body. “My!” She pulled back, letting the trailer clear the cab where it had folded together and crash back onto its axles without smashing the driver. “Watch!” The trailer continued to move, going up on its opposite wheels, and finally crashing onto its -left- side, away from the bus. Sally barely noticed, she'd already spun and run to the back of the crashed bus. She yanked the jammed emergency door off its hinges to open it. She slowed down at that point, taking in the trailer and the emergency door still in her hands with the marks of her fingers pressed into the metal. The school nurse and a few of the teachers with first aid qualification started moving in to help the injured furs on the bus, and everyone else just stared at her.
She dropped the door and looked around. The parking lot was silent except for the distant wail of sirens starting up and the sounds of the injured and the first responders. She was never sure, afterwards, who started cheering, but before long nearly everyone was. <So much for my secret identity. Cousin Bill is gonna -really- be upset with me for this...>
Up on the hill, a well-dressed squirrel punched a number into his cell phone. “Is Mr. Faraday available? This is Upton.” He waited a few minutes, and then spoke again. “Sir? Good news. The rumors are true. There -is- a young super here. Female raccoon. She looks to be seventeen judging by her size, but she was on a junior high bus.” Another pause. “She picked up a semi-trailer and tossed it on its side to keep it from crushing a school bus after an accident.” He smiled. “Yes, sir. I'll see what I can find out and get the ball rolling.”
22 June 2015
Coudersport PA
The Girl Scout meeting ended with the usual swirl of young femmes meeting their rides. Sally moved through the swirl slowly and carefully – she did -not- want to take the chance of stepping on any toes. She perked up when she saw who'd come to pick her up. “Tommy! You're home!” She climbed carefully into his SUV, which leaned a bit to her side but took the load.
“That's Petty Officer Third Class Yeager to you, not-so-little sis. And yeah, I've got two weeks leave before I report to sub school. Called the folks an hour ago, gave them my ETA, and when they told me you were at Scouts, I offered to pick you up.”
“Hah. Great-grampa Earl still says you're unnatural. 'Thompsons have always been Army!' He blames Dad.”
“Hah to him, too. Speaking of unnatural, I'd swear he looks younger than Dad, these days.”
“Yeah... he almost does, doesn't he? Wonder if I get it from him...”
“The super-power thing? He told me once when I asked – he'd been at one of the nuclear tests back in the 50's and said he'd never been sick a day since. Could be...” They drove in silence for a few minutes. “Still worried about tossing that truck around in front of the whole school?”
“Yeah... a bit. Had to talk to people from the Bureau of Superhero Relations afterwards. I think they're the reason it didn't get into the newspapers.”
Her oldest brother nodded. “Wouldn't surprise me. They're probably trying to protect whatever shreds of your secret identity they can salvage. They talked to the folks, and to me, too. You raised quite a sh... err, quite a stink with that.”
Sally giggled. “I live on a farm, Tommy. I know the word you're trying not to say.”
“Yeah, but I'm trying to tone things down. If I cussed around Mom the way we do in the barracks, she'd wash my mouth out with soap.”
“You're all grown up. She wouldn't!”
“I am -not- going to test that, Sally. So... how did the end of the school year go?”
“It was weird. Everyone stopped teasing me and the rest of the Freak Squad – even Mrs. French stopped harassing me...”
Tommy laughed at that. “Still has it in for us, does she?”
“We aren't meek little wimps who let someone else fight our battles. Of course she does. But I think she decided that trying to harass the heroine of the hour was a bad idea. Mrs. Brown even thanked me – turns out that Richard was sitting on the side of the bus the trailer was leaning on. If I hadn't pulled it away, he could have been killed if it shifted again. But everyone was even more scared of me after seeing what I could -really- do if I wanted to. It was like I was a grenade, and everyone was on their best behavior so I wouldn't go off. Even some of the Squad acted that way.”
“Ick. That does sound weird. So... thought of a superhero name yet?”
“Maybe. Matt – new kid this year, real bright, and he wasn't scared of me even after the accident – he suggested I should pick something to do with iron. After the accident, I started taking some of my snacks to school and they noticed. So he said, why not Iron in Latin? Ferrum sounded weird, though, so we settled on Ferric.”
“Ferric, eh? It ought to work. And you have plenty of time to change your mind, still. You're only twelve. Even if you do look like you could play linebacker for the Steelers.” He pulled into the driveway of the farm and drove up to the house. “Now that's odd...”
Sally frowned. “Yeah. None of the lights are on, except the automatics. Where is everyone?” Tom shut down the engine and they got out of the vehicle. “Hello!? Mom!? Dad!?”
Tom froze at the sound of weapons arming. Sally spun to look. Four figures had emerged from the shadows around the barn, their forms indistinct under black clothing and masks. “Your family is fine, Miss Yeager. And they will remain so as long as you cooperate.”
“Where are they?”
“You don't need to know that. But you will be joining them soon. If you'll both step this way...?”
William Thompson, newly minted Bachelor's in Climatology from Penn State and advanced degree candidate in the same field at MIT, looked at the incoming number on his cell phone with alarm. He'd been contacted by the Bureau before, but always when there was an obvious weather problem they wanted him to help with. Today everything was normal. “Coriolis here.”
“This is Betsy Ross at Philadelphia. We've got unusual activity from your cousin's beacon. Was she planning on any trips this week?”
“Not that I know of... Where is she going?”
“We're not sure. Towards northern New England, though. It looks like a private aircraft; it's moving at three-hundred-fifty knots but not on a standard airline route.”
“No one in the family would be traveling in a private jet without me knowing about it. I confirm that this is not an authorized trip.”
“We'll scramble a team.”
“Put me on it.”
“Coriolis, standard procedure is not to allow family--”
“I know. But she's only twelve, and she knows me. I have to at least be there when they pull her out.”
There was a long pause. “Very well. Mighty Mule will allow you to accompany the team, but not to go in on the extraction should that prove necessary. You're already in Boston, correct?”
“Effectively. Cambridge.”
“Meet the team at Logan in two hours. Philadelphia out.”
He was sitting on top of the Logan International Airport control tower less than an hour later (and was adjusting the weather to make sure that the fog that was threatening to make an appearance wasn't going to happen) when he was joined by a brown-furred rabbit mel wearing a red and black costume with an insignia of twinned forward and reversed D's made of nested loops. “Evening, kid. Coriolis, right? I'm Teragauss.”
“That's me. You're assigned to the mission?”
“Yep. Rapier and Exit are coming up from New York, and Liberty Belle from Philly. Star Avenger's unfortunately busy at the moment.”
“Did they tell you anything about it?”
“They got the State Police to check out the home. The entire family's missing, so we're looking at a probable hostage situation.“
Coriolis couldn't hide his shock. “All of them? The kids as well as Tom and Molly?”
The rabbit gave him a very suspicious look. “You -know- them. Why are you here?”
“I'm not supposed to do the mission. I'm there for the aftermath, the young super is my cousin. But if I can help, I want to. If nothing else, I can provide fog cover for the team on its way in.”
Teragauss relaxed a little. “Fair enough. But there's a reason family members aren't supposed to be in on these things. If something goes wrong and you start killing normals in revenge, -we- have to sit on you, and you'll probably end up depowered or worse. You sure you can handle it, or do I have to send you home?”
“I -have- to handle it. Sally's only twelve. The other kits...” He paused to remember. “...Betty's five, she's youngest of the six, and Tommy Junior is nineteen. He's in the Navy now, but he wasn't answering his phone, either, and I think he was home on leave. If something happens to -any- of them, you may need me there to help stop -Sally- from going on a rampage. And she went public back in March by -throwing- a loaded semitrailer off of a school bus.”
The rabbit nodded, thoughtfully. “Good answer, kid. All right, we'll take a chance on you.”
The raccoon twitched an ear at that, then snorted. “Should've known Mighty Mule was hedging his bets. Thanks.”
“Don't make me regret it, kid.”
“I'll do my best.”
The rabbit nodded again. “And that's why I said yes. You're not cock-sure you won't have a problem.
Which means that at the worst, you'll be trying to keep yourself under control if you do.”
“Heh. I'm a scientist when I'm not wearing gray. We -never- make absolute statements.”
“Didn't you just --”
“Shush. You're not supposed to notice that.”
The plane had barely stopped rolling before Teragauss and Coriolis boarded, and it was airborne again as soon as it had taxied back to the downwind end of the runway. They joined a bat-femme in a modified leotard, a mink-femme in dark gray combat fatigues, and a sword-carrying coyote mel in a black swashbuckler costume reminiscent of the old Zorro the Fox television show.
The coyote took charge as the plane took off. “Now that we're all here...”
The mink interrupted with, “And now that we've just gotten our target location..”
The coyote gave her a raised-eyebrow look, but continued. “The plane landed in Nashua, New Hampshire, about three quarters of an hour ago. The young super's beacon stopped moving fifteen minutes back, and we have the official plans for the location where she stopped.”
“Hang onto them. They'll probably be good for toilet paper.”
The coyote glared at the mink. “Exit, you are not on this mission to snark at me. I know perfectly well that the official plans are probably bullshit. As I was about to say... they appear to match the -grounds-, so we can use them to plan our initial entry. After that, it's all going to have to be improvised. The mission is to get the young super and her family out safely, and that's where Exit comes in. She and I will infiltrate the compound, and if all goes well, she can take us all home when we find them. At that point, you three will be notified and can stand down.”
Teragauss nodded. “And if it doesn't all go well?”
“That's where you and Liberty Belle come in. If we need backup, a diversion, or if Exit gets hurt and can't pull us out, you will attack from the outside and break through while we protect the civilians.” He turned to the raccoon. “Since you are here, I assume that Teragauss decided to risk your presence?”
“He did. I can provide fog or cloud cover for your infiltration if you need it. And as I told him – if something goes wrong, I should be there to stop Sally from going berserk. I don't know what she'd do if her family got hurt.”
“Hmm. That's certainly a possibility. What do you think, Exit? Would fog be a useful ploy?”
“Might be. Let's take a look at the plans, and see what we can figure out...”
Sally and Tommy hadn't seen the outside since they'd boarded the plane at Port Allegany. They'd been inside a hanger when they'd been transferred to the back of a truck, and the truck had been inside a warehouse when they'd been let out and marched to a freight elevator for a trip down to a nearly featureless corridor. Their final destination was a barracks bay fitted out with a dozen beds, an attached bathroom, and a small rec room with a television set and weights. The rest of the family was already there.
Betty burst into tears as they were ushered into the room at gunpoint. “They caught you, too? How will we get away now?!”
Eight-year-old Bobby just grunted. “Prolly her fault anyway.” This earned him a smack on the rump from his father.
“Robert Adam Yeager. This isn't anyone's fault but the bas--”
Molly glared. “Thomas....!”
Tom corrected himself. “The... -fursons- who did this to us. Any idea where we are, Tommy?”
“Not a clue, sir. Somewhere within six hundred miles of Port Allegany, judging from the flight time, but you probably already knew that. For all I know, they could have flown out and back and we're right back in Coudersport. Though I think we'd have noticed someone digging an underground base there.”
Sally shook her head. “This -is- probably my fault. If I hadn't...”
“Young lady, I'll hear no such nonsense from you. Even the bureaucrats admitted you had to do what you did when you saved your classmates.”
“Sorry, mom. But it's me they want. They told us that much on the way here, as if we couldn't have guessed. None of you get hurt if I cooperate.”
Her parents glanced at each other. Her father nodded, and her mother spoke. “Sally... you'll have to decide that yourself. If they want you to hurt -other- furs, you'll have to decide whether you want to do that. Don't worry about us if that happens. Whatever happens -won't- be your fault. It'll be -theirs-.”
The door opened, and everyone looked up as two femmefurs armed with rifles escorted in a squirrel-femme wearing a lab coat and stethoscope. “Touching, but you don't have to worry. We don't want young Sally to do anything to anyone. We merely want to study her.”
Molly glared. “You could have -asked-, if you were legit.”
The squirrel smiled. “Indeed. Let us just say that the Bureau is... less than cooperative about assisting scientists outside their own organization with useful data.”
Tom snorted. “I could -almost- believe that.”
“At any rate. Sally, you are satisfied that your family is fine?”
“For now.”
“Then we'll get started. You won't need that Girl Scout uniform. I've brought you a hospital gown to wear.”
“Fine.” She took it and turned to head toward the bathroom.
“Here. We don't want you out of our sight.”
“WHAT?!” The two riflewomen brought up their weapons.
Tom spoke up. “Boys. TV room. Now.” The males trooped obediently into the adjacent room and closed the door.
The squirrel waited patiently. “And now that your modesty is protected...?”
Sally took off her Scout uniform and handed it to her mother, and then knelt down to put the beacon pendant around Betty's neck. “Here, sis. You take care of this for me, okay? You know I'll come back to get it, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Sally received a rather sniffly hug from the young one, and rather less messy if still tearful ones from her mother and fourteen-year-old Barbara.
Her whisper was barely audible even right next to her mother's ear. “Mom, don't react. But keep the necklace safe. It'll bring the Bureau here. Don't worry about me. I'll sandbag 'em for a while.” She straightened up and turned to the squirrel. “All right. Let's go.”
Exit peered through low-light binoculars at the building. “Okay. Looks about the same as the blueprints. Security cameras at the corners, but in domes so I can't see the pattern. Coriolis, looks like you get to do the fog thing. Give us as close to pea soup as you can manage.”
“That'll take a little while.”
“Then get started.” She continued to stare at the building as the night turned dank and chill. “Rapier, I think our best bet is still the office doors. I can pick those locks and get us inside.”
The coyote nodded. “Works for me.”
“The beacon is showing depression, probably about three levels underground. We'll wait until it gets properly foggy, and then go in. You three – don't call us for anything less than 'two truckloads of armed mercs just showed up' and even then if we don't answer, do NOT use an override to get our attention. We might need to be staying quiet. Is that understood?”
Three affirmatives came back. “Good. Make sure you remember it.”
The medical lab was partly familiar, and partly creepy, with gadgets and stations she'd never heard of. The squirrel doctor patted the exam table and motioned her up. “Just sit down, and we'll start with the basics. Blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, height and weight, that sort of thing...” She looked up as the table groaned, to see that it was starting to bend. “On second thought, stand up, stand up!” She hurried over to inspect the table. “I... think we'll -start- with weight. Over here.”
'Over here' turned out to be a livestock scale. “We knew you were unusually heavy, but the last records we could find were less than five hundred pounds. That shouldn't have bent the exam table.”
“I'm pretty sure that's not even close, Doctor...Doctor...? What's your name?”
“Let's just go with Doctor for now, Sally. Step up.”
The scale spun up to sixteen hundred forty-five. “That looks about right, Doctor. I was at seven-hundred-forty kilos the last time I got a checkup. Pounds is two to one, right?”
“Two point two...” The squirrel replied absently, staring at the readout in disbelief. “And height..?” That turned out to be six foot eight. “But that means...”
“Yep. The Bureau doc said I'm practically made out of iron. She went on and on about some kind of... organic high-carbon steel mattress? Or something like that. Didn't understand all of it.”
“Matrix...”
Sally nodded. “Coulda been matrix. It was all sciency.” Mentally, she was grinning. <That's right, Doc Sinister. You get yourself all boggled, and I'll pretend to be as dumb as Rick the Dick until I can figure out what your game is.>
The doctor led her back to stand beside the table. “Well, we'll have to try your blood pressure standing.” She started by trying to read her pulse, and shook her head when she couldn't feel it. “So how did the Bureau people take your blood pressure?”
“They gave up trying when I was ten, Doc. I don't really have enough of one to measure, at least not through my skin. They took my pulse with a stethoscope, usually.”
The squirrel shook her head and tried the stethoscope.”What the...?”
Sally chuckled. “Yeah, I know. They let me listen to it last time. Kinda... thrums, doesn't it? Not the thump-thump everyone else has. Doc said something about my heart just running enough to circulate my blood when I'm not moving. Mostly, my muscles push it around.”
The squirrel rallied. “Pulse rate twenty-five per minute. You are certainly a unique specimen, Sally.”
The raccoon snorted. “That's what Mrs. French always says. 'Everyone is unique!' I think I'm uniquer than most furs, though. Somehow, I think that annoys her.”
“Who's Mrs. French?”
“My principal. She hates our whole family. We're not politically correct enough for her tastes. Plus, I think I've done a better job stamping out bullying at our school than she ever managed.”
The squirrel had been busying herself setting up a tray. “All right. I'm going to take a blood sample now. You're not scared of needles, are you?”
Sally giggled. “Nope. Needles are scared of -me-.”
The squirrel paused in mid-action. “Right. Steel matrix body. How -do- they get blood from you?”
“Duralloy scalpel. And then they kinda scoop it up, or let it drip. It's really cool if you get it near a magnet after you get it out. It goes all spiky and weird.”
“Is it even red?”
“Eh. Kinda. Real dark red. Kinda like a black red.”
The squirrel muttered under her breath, “I wonder if she even -has- blood cells...” She looked up as a red light started to flash. “Now what?”
“Is that an alarm? I think I'll go back to my family now. Just in case.”
“You'll stay right... here...” Something about the raccoon's grin made her realize that the girl didn't really -care- that there were two rifles trained on her. And then she made a quick calculation of the relative penetration power of a rifle bullet vs. a hypodermic needle, and came up with an answer that told her WHY the girl didn't care... <Uh-oh...>
“Nope. Remember, if they get hurt, I stop cooperating. So I'm going to go help to make sure they don't get hurt, all right?” The grin showed normal raccoon teeth, but somehow they looked like they should have belonged to a shark. And they -glittered-.
“Umm... yes. All right.” She nodded to the guards. “Escort her back. We'll continue after we find out why there's an alarm.”
The fog had thickened to the point where the rescue party could barely see their own feet. Exit muttered, “Good thing we had him do this.”
Rapier glanced in her direction. “Oh?”
“The fog is scattering the laser web. We would have blundered into it.”
“I didn't see anything.”
“I switched to infrared. And you can't -see- a laser unless it scatters, y'know. But with the fog this thick it won't be working. They'll have had to turn it off, or if not, it's in continuous alarm everywhere. Let's go!”
It took them only fifteen seconds to jump the fence and reach the door. Exit had the lock picked in another thirty, and then they were inside the darkened office. Exit handed Rapier a pair of IR goggles and led the way with an infrared flashlight. The ground floor was completely dark aside from the faint glow of the emergency exit signs, but the stairway was easy enough to find. “Crap. It only goes up.”
“You think they -have- to use the elevator?”
“Wouldn't be a good idea, too easy to get trapped, and extra elevators would be too noticeable. No, it'll be something weird. Like a staircase that doesn't stop on the ground floor. Let's go.”
The second floor turned out to have just that. Two guards were standing by it, and two more at the opposite end of the hall. <Amateur mistake number one. Obvious guards are obviously guarding something.> Motioning Rapier to stay there, she scouted around the cubicle maze until she found another way to the second guard post. Grinning, she sent the coyote a text. “Fifteen seconds from when you respond. I've got the other end, you take that one.”
Ten seconds later, her radio vibrated, and she started counting down. At five she started moving. At two, she came out of cover, knocked the first guard off his feet with a flying kick, came back into a crouch, took the second guard's rifle and hit him with it, then slammed the butt into the first guard just as he was starting to get back up. Two nerve strikes put them down for the count, and she looked up to see Rapier saluting her with his namesake weapon. No blood on it, though, he'd obviously used martial arts as well. She met him at the stairwell and they started down.
She nodded at the third level below ground, pointing to the transponder. “Right height, somewhere to the left. Might be guards on the other side. Let's go.”
The guards were farther down the hall. One of them raised a rifle. Exit's pistol was faster, and made only a soft *phut*, and that one went down. A second tranq dart took out the second guard a half-second later. Neither one had had a chance to yell. “We're starting to leave a trail. Hope this is the right place.”
Rapier nodded. “One way to find out. Might be guards on the other side, though.”
Exit checked the downed guards. “Hah. Keys.” The third one fit the lock. “Ready?”
“Ready.” They went through the door.
On the other side were another pair of guards, with rifles pointed loosely in the direction of a family of raccoons. They obviously hadn't been expecting anyone to get this far without some warning, but one of them managed to pull the alarm switch before going down. “Not unexpected.”
The alarm was a strident interrupted buzz, accompanied by a flashing red lamp over the door. “Looks like a standard bunkroom here. It even has a lavatory and a TV room.”
Rapier nodded. “So this is probably going off in all of the barracks rooms. They had a whole family to store away, so they cleared one out.”
Exit had turned to the raccoons. “You're the Yeagers, I presume?”
“Most of us. They took Sally away, said they wanted to 'run tests'. Threatened -us- if she didn't cooperate.” The elder male looked badly stressed by the situation; his wife just looked like she wanted to tear someone to pieces.
“Blast. We're supposed to get -all- of you out. Any idea where she is? Her beacon led us here.”
Molly nodded. “She left it with us when they took her away. It's in her necklace.”
Betty looked up. “Her necklace brought the heroes? She said -she'd- come back for it.”
Exit shrugged. “We've got a single door to guard, so we can keep you safe here for a while. I think we can wait a bit for your sister, kid. I'd bet she's on her way by now.”
Sally led the way back to the bunkroom at a trot. The guards struggled to keep up. “Slow down!”
She just chuckled as she called the bluff. “Make me.”
One of them wasn't bluffing. The shot rang out in the confined hallway. Sally stopped, turned around, growled at the guards, and then came back towards them. She ignored the second shot – the ricochet pinged a chip of concrete out of the wall. “One of my best friends told me I should choose 'Ferric' as my hero code name. D'you know what that means?”
The guard shook her head. “It means Iron.” She took the rifle from the guard's hands, flexed her arms, and bent the barrel. She held out her hand for the other guard's rifle. The guard backed up. “Either I break it, or I break -you-.” The guard dropped it and ran. “Meh. Close enough.” She stepped on the receiver, bent down and snapped the barrel off. She turned around again and ran toward the bunkroom where she'd left her family.
She rounded the corner to find three guards pointing rifles in her direction, while a fourth tried to break down the door. “Can't get in? That's a good sign, I think.” She slowed down to a walking pace.
“Stop right there!”
Sally just smiled again. “I'll tell you what I told that other guard. Make me.” She waded through the resulting fusillade of shots without slowing down and then brushed the guards aside. “Enough of that. Those things are noisy in here.”
She knocked on the door. “I'm back! Let me in?”
“Is that you, Sally?”
“Ayep. Hmm. Top row of my merit badges are computers, bird-watching, orienteering, and baking.”
The door unlatched, but failed to open. “I think they jammed it.”
“Stand back.” She gave it a count of five, then kicked. It flew open, and she stepped through and closed it again. “Drat. Now it won't stay shut.” She leaned against it.
Her mother gasped. “What -happened- to you?”
“Hmm? Oh, gosh...” She blushed, and covered herself with her hands. The barrage hadn't done anything to harm her, but her hospital gown was in tatters and her bra was hanging loose by a single damaged strap. “Kinda got caught in a bullet storm. Can I have my uniform back?”
Bobby snickered and sing-songed, “I can see your boo-by!” He got another swat and was forcibly turned around while his sister got dressed.
“That's better.” She looked at the Bureau agents. “I'm... Ferric. You are?”
“I'm Exit, and he's Rapier. And I'll be taking us home, if you don't mind.”
“Don't mind at all, ma'am. I suspect we'll have more of my fan club showing up soon. What's the plan to get out of here?”
Exit smiled. “Just hold hands.” She held hers out, and the rest of the furs formed a circle. She chuckled. “There's no place like home...” A moment later she staggered, obviously in pain. “Aggh! Shit! What the hell!?”
Molly sniffed. “Language, young lady. There are children--.”
The mink growled. “Shut up, you. We have a problem.” She counted noses. “Six adults, near enough. Four kids. Shouldn't be...” She stared at Sally. <Ferric, she called herself. Technically, the higher oxidation state, but... iron.> “Ferric, eh? How much do you -weigh-, kid?”
“Sinister Squirrel just checked that. Sixteen hundred forty-five.”
“Good lord in a blender! What idiot signed off on the mission without checking that? We have a BIG problem, Rapier.”
Rapier frowned. “You can get her out, and probably the two youngest with her. That's the mission.”
“Bull. The mission is to get them -all- out.”
Sally asked, “What's your limit, Miss Exit?”
“About a ton. I could get ten -normal- people out, no problem. But you...”
“Yeah. I've been hearing -that- since second grade. I'm too big and fat.”
“You're not fat, chica. But you -are- heavy.” Footsteps sounded in the corridor. “And the fan club is back.”
“I walked through one bullet storm already, I can handle another.” She stared down her mother when she started to protest. “I'm not even -bruised-, mom. The Bureau folks figured that out last time they gave me a checkup and they couldn't get a needle into my arm. We tested it – pistols I barely feel, rifles are no problem, they even tried a Ma Deuce – that stung, but it took that big a gun to even make me bruise. Go. I'll be fine.”
Rapier interrupted. “Exit. I'm ordering you to take the girl and as much of her family as you can.”
Exit looked at him, and looked back at Ferric. “You're sure?”
“Yes. And even if I wasn't, I'd still tell you to take all of them first.”
The mink looked her in the eyes, and then nodded. “You've got the look, chica. You'll do.” She gave the girl a salute. “You've got it.” Bullets started to ping off the door that Sally was holding shut.
“EXIT! I gave you an order!”
“Yes, you did. But it was a stupid order, so I'm going to ignore it.” She giggled. “Always wanted to use that line... Join hands, the rest of you. Rapier, you coming?” She looked up at Sally. “Stairs are to the left. Four flights up, down the hall, one flight down. Teragauss, Liberty Belle, and Coriolis are waiting outside.” She clicked her radio. “Guys? I'm bugging out with the family. Can't carry young Ferric, she'll be coming out to meet you. Head on in.” Bullets started to leak through the door and past the bent edges. “Last call, Rapier. Five, four, three, OW, bloody hell! Bye!” There was a bang and a rush of air into the place they'd been.
Sally grinned. Rapier had vanished with the rest after all. She yanked the door off its hinges and stepped out, using it as a shield. <With a bit of luck, maybe I can get out of here without getting arrested for indecent exposure.>
29 June 2015
Geneva, Switzerland
Bureau of Superheroes, Main Headquarters
A bison-femme dressed in Amerindian buckskins banged a gavel. “This meeting of the Council is now in session. Morningstar, North American Region, presiding.”
She leaned back and glanced at her six fellow Directors; Noble Knight of Europe, Ivan the Terrible from Russia, Tigress Titan of China, Cleopatra of Africa, El Supremo of Latin America, and Captain Australia representing Oceania. “The issue at hand is the determination of procedure in the wake of the exposure of the identity of an underage super. Legal Beagle, if you would review the basic facts for us?”
“Of course, ma'am.” She cleared her throat. “The young raccoon in question has always been a difficult case for identity protection. Her powers cause unusual, permanent, and very obvious body variations from the norm, including size, weight, and recently the appearance of metallic overtones to her teeth, skin and fur. Earlier this year, her abilities were publicly exposed when she rescued a bus full of her fellow students following a traffic accident; there was neither time nor opportunity to change into a costume even if she had had one available. Her actions saved at least a half-dozen lives, and prevented additional injury to another two dozen or so. Subsequent to that, her family was kidnapped in the incident detailed in the reports you have been given...”
“.... and the recommendation of the North American Directorate is that she be given tentative status as a probationary agent without a secret identity at Colmaton, and that her family be given new identities under a variation of the Witness Protection Program.”
Morningstar nodded as the presentation concluded. “And we now open the floor for discussion. Ivan?”
The Russian bear rumbled, “I am vonderink, vhy Colmaton?”
“There are already two underage supers present at Colmaton. We felt that keeping them together would allow them to have a social peer group.”
“Da, makes sense. Spasebo.”
Noble Knight was the next to raise her hand. “Is there going to be a problem with her cousin?”
“We don't believe so. Apparently they've known about each other for several years already, and even as a child, Ferric never told anyone. Even after our medical personnel started testing her, she never breathed a word of it even though she -could- have told Bureau personnel. She's always been very mature for her age, I understand.” <And -more- mature than certain full-fledged agents I could mention...>
The mare nodded. “Very well.”
Cleopatra was still looking over the mission report. “She really told Exit to do the.. what is phrase... dust-off and leaf her behind?”
“According to Exit, she not only refused, she insisted that the others go in spite of Rapier's orders to the contrary.”
Tigress Titan frowned. “Bad for discipline, this.”
“Perhaps. But it was the correct call. She literally walked out of the place through two dozen remaining guards and a hail of bullets, none the worse aside from shredded clothing. Even Exit and Rapier couldn't have managed that in the tight space they were in. In the opinion of the majority of the North American Directorate, she and Exit both showed good judgment in refusing an order given by a superior who did not fully comprehend the situation.”
“A majority?” The tigress raised an eyebrow. “Who disagreed?”
“That would have been Atomic Ape.”
Cleopatra huffed. “THAT one.”
Captain Australia chuckled. “I've met the cobber. 'Is nay vote is a recommendation -for- the sheila, ya ask me.”
Titan actually smiled. “Indeed. I find myself in agreement, as well.”
Morningstar smiled. “Any other questions?” No one said anything. “All in favor?” Seven hands rose. “The ayes have it. So ordered.”
The End
-Prequel to New Beginnings-
A Colmaton Universe fanfic.
Colmaton Universe is the creation of Train.
Bureau of Superheroes, Regional Directors, Legal Beagle, Liberty Belle, Mighty Mule, and Atomic Ape are the property of Mojorover.
Betsy Ross is the property of BossHoss
All other characters are original to me.
2 August 2002
Potter County General Hospital, Coudersport, PA
“And... one more push, Mrs. Yeager, you're almost there....”
The raccoon femme on the table groaned at her obstetrician, a middle-aged pinto mare. “That's what you said the -last- time, Doc.”
“That was to keep your hopes up, Molly. This time I actually mean it. Her head is fully crowned. Just one more...”
With a convulsive gasp, the raccoon pushed once more, and a moment later was rewarded by the first upset cry of her newborn daughter. She sank back onto the table, exhausted by the ordeal, and let the nurses fuss over her as they dealt with the details of cleaning up after the delivery. Doctor Sandra White frowned as she lifted the newborn. <What the heck? How much does this kid -weigh-?> The scale confirmed her confused first impression. “Congratulations, Mrs. Yeager. You are the mother of a beautiful baby girl. Length, seventeen inches. Weight... twenty-four pounds, twelve ounces??!”
4 September 2002
The mare smiled as the raccoon femme brought her baby into the doctor's office for her one-month checkup and shots. “So how is she, Molly? She got over that lethargy all right?”
“Well, she's more active, and she's certainly gaining weight now. You were right, the iron supplements helped a lot, and so did augmenting with formula. She's up to thirty-two pounds, she's drinking me dry, and she's putting away four extra bottles of formula every day! Level with me, Doc. There's something -really- odd about her, isn't there?”
The mare chuckled. “Every baby is different. Young Sally is just out at one end of the bell curve.”
The raccoon stared at her, eyebrows leveled. “She's my fourth, Doc. I know what to expect. Sally is so far off the bell curve she might as well be on a different planet.”
The mare shifted her eyes away from that stare. “There's bell curves, and then there's bell curves, Molly. At this point, I don't -know- anything. But... is there anything odd in your family history? Or your husband's?”
“Only odd thing is my grandfather Earl. He's seventy-six and doesn't look a day over thirty-five.” She harrumphed. “Doesn't act like it, either.”
The mare twitched an ear at that. “Really? Do you have his phone number? I might just want to talk to him.”
12 February 2003
“Doc! Meet me at the emergency room! Sally swallowed a nail!”
“Calm down, Molly! Is she bleeding? In pain?”
“Well, no, not yet. I was working out in the barn, put her on her blanket. She rolled herself over, crabbed over to the edge of it, and I was watching her, she picked it up and stuffed it in her mouth before I could get there to stop her!”
“Why didn't you have her in a playpen, Molly?”
The pause on the other end of the line went on for too long. “Molly?”
“She -broke- it. When she started moving on her own? She tore right through the mesh.”
“She still has that wrench she's so fond of?”
“We can't get it away from her. But...”
“But? Talk to me, Molly. You're right, she's not a normal kid. I need all the information I can get.”
“It looks like it's been gnawed on.”
The mare chuckled. “Well, she -is- a baby.”
“But it's a -wrench-! It's bent now, and the handle is worn, and... and... “
“And...?”
“And there's a piece -missing-.”
“Bring her in, Molly. We'll take the x-rays. But I suspect she's fine.”
The porcupine tech was very apologetic. “Sorry about the picture quality, Doctor White. I don't know what happened. The machine checks out fine, but the picture seems way underexposed, and at her age I can't risk another shot.”
“That's all right, Robbie. She's an unusual kid. Do us a favor, and don't talk to -anyone- about this.”
“I have to do the paperwork, Doc, you know that.”
“So do I, Robbie. But there's paperwork, and then there's telling good stories to your buddies over a beer. You were in the Navy, right?”
“As a Pharmacist's Assistant, yeah. It's where I learned how to do this stuff.”
“Treat this as Top Secret. For the family's own good.”
“You serious, Doctor?”
“As a heart attack. Kid was brought in because she swallowed a six-penny nail. Granted, the x-ray is hard to make out, but... do you see a nail that size in her stomach?”
“There's these two bits here - if they're metal, they could be finishing brads. And this one, looks like part of a washer.”
“Yeah. -Part- of a washer. I think she's -digesting- it. The kid's only seven months old, and you saw how big she is, how much she weighs.”
“Seven months?? You sure of that, Doc?”
“Delivered her myself, Robbie. She weighed nearly twenty-five pounds -then-.”
The porcupine whistled softly. “She's gonna be a BIG girl when she grows up, isn't she?”
The mare snorted a laugh. “I think that's a safe bet. Now I'm going to go reassure the family that she's fine. And you're going to fill out the required paperwork, and we're both going to hope it gets buried in the tons of paperwork the government makes all of us medical folk generate every day. I'd rather not record anything, but missing paperwork raises a lot more flags than odd entries. Be as generic as you can, though.”
“Got it, Doc.”
22 December 2010
The barn was dim and warm, and thick with the scent of livestock. The youngster was sitting next to the heifer that she'd taken care of since her birth the previous summer. “It's not -fair-, Brownie. I'm -big-, but I'm not -fat-. Why does Mary have to pick on me all the time?” The heifer mooed sympathetically, and rubbed her head against the raccoon girl. The young animal had no idea why this particular two-leg had such wonderful bristly fur for scratching herself against, but she wasn't going to miss the opportunity while she was here. She'd tried nibbling it sometimes, but it didn't taste good.
“Sally? You in here?”
She turned at the sound of the voice. “Bill? Is that you?”
“Sure is. How's my favorite little cousin?”
She sniffled. “Big and fat, according to my ex-friends. What are you doing here already? Thought your family was coming up on Christmas Eve?”
“Meh. I was already most of the way here at Penn State. Why drive all the way home for a day and a half, and then drive all the way up here again?” He leaned on the railing of the stall. “Hmm. They've got a point about the big, I'm afraid. You're nearly as tall as I am already. Nothing wrong with that, though. Maybe you have a future in the Women's Basketball League.”
Sally chuckled through her tears. “I'm glad you're here, cuz. Sometimes I think you're the only one who understands me at all.”
William Thompson, freshman in geology at Penn State, looked a little uncomfortable. “Your parents try to understand you, Sally, you know that. And they and your brothers and sisters love you, even when they don't understand.”
“I know. But I'm -different-. I'm big. I'm -fat-. Don't kid me, Bill. You know why they call me fat? I -broke- the nurse's scale when they weighed us at school! I told her it wouldn't weigh me, the one last year didn't go high enough! Four hundred pounds, and it wasn't enough! And this year, we had a new school nurse, she wouldn't believe me, and when I stepped on the scale, something snapped! And it stopped working!” She held her cousin, crying onto his shoulder, but careful even in her emotional haze to let -him- hug -her-. She'd managed to crack one of her brother Tommy's ribs two years before by hugging him too hard, and she'd only gotten stronger since then.
Bill let her sob for a bit, holding her as tightly as he could and patting her back. “There, there... shush... it'll be all right. I know it's hard, but it'll be all right...” He let go and moved her away, holding onto her shoulders to look her in the eyes. “And no, you're not fat. The correct word is dense, but you don't want to tell your friends that, either. It means heavy, like iron or gold, but they'll pretend it means stupid.”
“...NOT my friends any more...”
“Even more reason not to give them ammunition. Sally... I'm going to tell you a secret. I'm not sure you're really old enough yet, but you need to know anyway. But you can't tell -anyone- else, not even your family. Promise?”
“Nobody?”
“Nobody. Not even Brownie.”
She giggled through residual tears. “Now who could -she- tell?”
Bill quirked an eyebrow at her. “You'd be surprised. Promise?”
“Okay, promise. Sorry Brownie. You'll just have to be curious.” Brownie mooed, hiding any disappointment quite well.
He grinned. “C'mon outside. We'll take a walk out to the woodlot. I'll need to show you something or you won't believe me.”
The woodlot was on a hilly portion of the property, second growth forest since the logging boom had ended a century ago. From the edge, one could look out over the valley where the Allegheny River began; deeper in, you could be hidden from prying eyes. Bill led the way deep into the forest.
“So what's this big secret?”
“This.” Her cousin's blue-gray eyes started glowing, and then the wind picked up, swirling leaves and twigs – and he rose up off the ground.
“Whoa! How are you doing that? And why do your eyes glow?”
“Do they? I didn't actually know that.” He let himself drop back to the ground, and his eyes went back to normal. “Never looked in a mirror while I was doing that... what color?”
“Kinda blue-white.” It hit her, then, and she squealed in excitement. “Eeeee!! You're a superhero!!!”
“Well, not yet. But I'm going to be, eventually. For now, I'm going to college, training, and practicing.”
Sally was practically bouncing. “That is soooo coool! You're a super! And I know your secret identity!And.... ” Her face fell. “And I can never tell -anyone-?”
“Nope. Not even Brownie. There -are- supervillains who can talk to animals, y'know.”
“There are?”
“Yep. Now, the -reason- I told you...”
“You think...?”
“I'm sure of it, Sally. You chew on tools, you broke a scale that goes up to four hundred pounds – and I saw you move that radial saw for your dad last year.”
“... that wasn't hard.”
“You were seven! You picked it up with one hand. Most grown-ups couldn't manage more than drag it across the floor with two. I don't think you realize just how strong you are compared to the rest of us. I couldn't do that, and I'm a super myself. I just control weather.”
“So... I'm going to be a superhero when I grow up?”
“If you want. You don't have to be.”
“Hmmmph. If they keep treating me bad, maybe I'll be a supervillain instead.”
Bill chuckled, forcing himself to smile and stay calm. “You don't mean that, Sally.”
“Nooo... not really. But... sometimes I want to hit people.”
His smile was more genuine this time. “Heh. Welcome to the club, cousin. Though I usually want to do this to them...” He pointed, and a miniature lightning bolt flared between his hand and an innocent boulder, to Sally's amusement. “But there are some nasty folks out there. So I brought you an extra present this year.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace, a gold chain with a heart pendant.
The young girl smiled. “That's pretty! Is it real gold?”
“Gold-plated. The chain is actually titanium alloy underneath the plating. But it's also a beacon. If anything happens to you, if the bad guys figure out what you can do and come after you, this will tell the Bureau where you are.” He held it out to her.
“Wow. This is real stuff, isn't it?”
“As real as it gets, Sally. As real as it gets. You're way too young for this, but... whether I like it or not, whether you like it or not, whether the Bureau likes it or not... you're a super, and if you mess up, people might get killed.”
Sally reached out for it, very slowly. “This is scary all of a sudden, cuz.”
“Yes. It is. Do your best not to show off in public, don't let the bullies annoy you – they're just jealous anyway - and if you ever need me for anything at all, you can call day or night.”
She nodded, and put the pendant around her neck. They stood there for a while, looking out over the valley as it got dark and the lights came on. “Bill? Can you make it snow?”
He chuckled. “You want a White Christmas?”
“Yeah. Not a blizzard or anything, just a nice couple inches of fresh snow. It's always so pretty when it's fresh.”
“I need time to set up something big like that. And we should let the rest of the family get here first. How about if it starts while we're at church Christmas Eve?”
She gave him a gentle hug. “That'd be perfect.”
23 March 2015
Sally sighed as she heard the footsteps pelting down the hall. She stepped around the corner and glared. There were four boys involved. Three of them she'd known for years, and never liked. They were chasing the fourth. Matthias Goldberg was the new kid in the seventh grade class this year, a mouse with a Bronx accent that was thick enough to give even some of the teachers trouble understanding him.
Matthias gave a glad cry when he saw her. “Sally! Help!” He dashed in behind the raccoon and peered around her, while the other three skidded to a stop.
“Bobby, Frank, and of course Richard. Haven't we had this dance before?”
The young jackal and bull hung back behind their ringleader. The young bear growled at the raccoon who towered over him by over a foot. “You stay out of this, freak. No one wants to dance with you.”
“It's an expression, bone-brain. I don't actually want to dance with -you-, either. As for staying out of it... Maybe I will, and maybe I won't. What are you claiming he did this time?”
“Ain't none a' your business, freak. He needs to get what's coming to him.”
“Ah, the bully code. Reality bites, so it must be someone else's fault. Matt? Did you manage to offend the Three Stooges here somehow, or is it just random violence because it's Monday?”
“'E's been makin' me do 'is 'omewoik. 'Asn't loined a t'ing. So 'e tries to copy off me test Friday. 'E 'anded it in, an' den I coirected me answers. Now 'e's mad 'cause 'e got an F.”
Sally snorted. “Good one! High five, little dude.” Matt smacked her outstretched palm and winced. She raised an eyebrow at the trio. “You're still here?”
“This ain't over, pipsqueak. She won't be there to hide behind all the time.”
“He turns up hurt, Richard, and I'll make sure you turn up just as hurt. Now go study or something. Maybe they'll let you retake that test.” The mouse started making squeaky 'pip' noises from behind her. “Matt... don't encourage him.”
“Sorry.” He waited until the three had wandered away to their next classes as he walked with the raccoon to the lunchroom. “T'anks. I don't care what dem goils say aboutcha, you're de best, Sally.”
“I've heard most of it, I think. But you want to be careful. I'm Queen of the Freaks, remember? Everyone who hangs out with me is lame, or a loser, or a coward, or just plain weird, right? You'll never fit in with anyone else once you've got that rep.”
“Dey hung dat label on me de foist day I showed up, Sal. 'Cause dey all talks funny an' I don't.”
Sally snickered. “One way of looking at it, I suppose. But if you don't mind being part of the Freak Squad, I'm glad to have you.”
There was a note waiting for her when she got to math class. “Mrs. French wants to see you again, Sally.” Mr. Wilkins actually liked his oversized student, and the raven sometimes suspected that that was why the principal kept pulling her out of -his- class when she was upset with her. “Here's today's assignment if she doesn't let you get back.”
Sally sighed. “I think I know what it is. But thanks, sir. I appreciate that you do that for me. Miss Hunsicker always gives me a zero when I get pulled out of -her- class.”
The old bird clicked his beak. “Really? She's not allowed to do that. I'll look into it for you. But you'd better see what they think you've done now.”
Sally headed down the hall toward the office. <Bet I know. Rick the Dick was probably complaining to his mommy already.> She went into the outer office, and nodded to the secretary.
Mrs. Lafferty rolled her eyes ( a very expressive thing on a chameleon). “Again, Sally?”
“Again. My 'popular' classmates have decided that I am Queen of the Freaks and my existence offends them because I defend all my fellow outcasts. So they tell lies about me, and Mrs. French believes them.”
“You -do- seem to have a great deal of trouble following school policies, Miss Yeager.” Sally turned around at the all-too-familiar voice of the sparrow femme who was principal of the school. “Into my office, please.” A minute later, she was standing in front of the sparrow's desk. “We have heard from Mrs. Brown again. Why do you keep threatening young Richard?”
“All I ever say to him, Mrs. French, is that anything that he does to my friends will happen to him. If he had no plans to bother my friends, he would have nothing to worry about.”
“Mrs. Brown told me that you threatened him today at lunch after interrupting a conversation he was having.”
“A conversation, he called it? He was chasing Matt Goldberg down the hall and threatening to pound him. I interrupted it by letting Matt hide behind me. Did Mrs. Brown tell you about -that- part?”
“We have a zero tolerance policy in this school, Miss Yeager. Fighting is always wrong.”
The young raccoon merely raised an eyebrow at that. “Y'know, Mrs. French, my great-grandfather fought in the Second World War. Was -that- wrong?”
“That was -different-, young lady. Furs are -better- than that now.”
Sally raised her other eyebrow to join the first. “With all due respect, Mrs. French... do you ever watch the news?”
“I don't much care for your attitude, Yeager. Your older siblings were bad enough, but you are incorrigible!”
Sally grinned. “Yep. We're a feisty lot, we Yeagers. We get it from Great-grampa. We believe in self-defense. Are you going to try to suspend me again?”
The sparrow's glare should have been able to melt porcelain. “I'm watching you, Yeager. You keep dancing on the line, and someday you are going to step over it. And when you do...” She paused. “What did you do with your fur, young lady?”
Sally frowned, puzzled by the change of subject. “Hu-whah? I haven't done anything to it, Mrs. French.”
“Don't lie to me, young lady. You've put glitter in it.”
“...Glitter...?” She looked at her arm more closely, and ran her fingers through the fur. “Huh. That's new... it -does- kind of glitter, doesn't it?”
“You had better wash that out tonight, Miss Yeager. The dress code forbids distracting hair and fur styling.”
“Yeah... except this isn't styling. It's natural.” <Or at least as natural as anything -else- about me...>
“Nonsense. You get rid of that, or I -will- have you suspended. Now get back to class.”
She caught the second half of her math class, and hung back when the bell rang. “Mr. Wilkins, can I talk to you for a minute?”
The raven smiled at her. “I've got a study hall next period, Sally. We can talk as long as you like if you come with me. What's wrong?”
“It... is my fur... -distracting-?”
“Distracting, dear girl? Whatever brought this on?” The light dawned a moment later, and his exclamation was simultaneous with Sally's answer. “Mrs. French.”
Sally nodded. “She thinks I put glitter in it, and she wants to suspend me on the grounds of it being distracting. But since I -didn't-, I -can't- wash it out. Is it really distracting?”
Wilkins had leaned closer and was peering at her fur. “May I?” She nodded and held up her arm. “Hmm. It -is- a bit glittery, but it's -in- the fur, not stuck to it.” He shook his head. “Certainly not distracting, it's barely noticeable at any distance.”
“Would you stick up for me?”
“I'd be happy to, young lady. Not sure it'll help, she gets along with me almost as well as she gets along with you, but I'll do my best. Better run along now.”
“Thanks, Mr. Wilkins!”
Her bus driver reserved the right front seat for her, and had been doing so since the second week of junior high. She'd asked him why, and his response had been half-embarrassed and half-puzzled. “Don't know how much you weigh, kid, but I can -feel- the bus creak when you get on. That's the safest spot for you, and has the least stress on the frame.” She still hadn't gotten up the nerve to tell him how heavy she actually was, but she didn't really mind the spot. It was easier than squeezing down the aisle, anyway.
So she had a front row seat for the accident that afternoon.
The truck was just coming down the hill from the east when its brakes failed. Air horn blaring, the driver did his best to control the vehicle, but the stopped traffic in front of the school zone was more than he could handle. Three cars moved out of his path, and a fourth nearly made it before being clipped and spun into the opposite lane. The bus that was just pulling out, unfortunately, simply didn't have the ability to move fast enough to get clear. The truck driver held on as long as he could, using the engine to slow his rig down – and at the last minute he yanked the steering wheel violently to the left. The rig jacknifed to the left, slid almost to a stop, and then the trailer toppled sideways onto the bus that had just pulled out.
Sally was on her feet almost before the collision had ground to a halt. “Let me out!”
The driver turned, surprised. “Let the professionals handle the first aid, girl.”
“Let. Me. Out. This isn't about first aid, it's about rescue.”
“Not sure what you're thinkin' you can--”
“NOW!” She grabbed the handle and yanked it hard enough to slam the door open with the smash-and-tinkle of broken glass, and was through it before he could even try to stop her. She raced to the collision, hearing the cries of her trapped fellow students and the groan of overstressed metal as the trailer settled farther down onto the bent bus frame, shrinking the space left for the kids on its left side.
“Not. Today.” She ran past the next bus and then she was between the damaged one and the leaning trailer. “Not!” She grabbed hold of the trailer frame, her claws punching through the thin metal of the trailer shell. “On!” She heaved upward, the trailer straightening up and relieving the stress on the bus body. “My!” She pulled back, letting the trailer clear the cab where it had folded together and crash back onto its axles without smashing the driver. “Watch!” The trailer continued to move, going up on its opposite wheels, and finally crashing onto its -left- side, away from the bus. Sally barely noticed, she'd already spun and run to the back of the crashed bus. She yanked the jammed emergency door off its hinges to open it. She slowed down at that point, taking in the trailer and the emergency door still in her hands with the marks of her fingers pressed into the metal. The school nurse and a few of the teachers with first aid qualification started moving in to help the injured furs on the bus, and everyone else just stared at her.
She dropped the door and looked around. The parking lot was silent except for the distant wail of sirens starting up and the sounds of the injured and the first responders. She was never sure, afterwards, who started cheering, but before long nearly everyone was. <So much for my secret identity. Cousin Bill is gonna -really- be upset with me for this...>
Up on the hill, a well-dressed squirrel punched a number into his cell phone. “Is Mr. Faraday available? This is Upton.” He waited a few minutes, and then spoke again. “Sir? Good news. The rumors are true. There -is- a young super here. Female raccoon. She looks to be seventeen judging by her size, but she was on a junior high bus.” Another pause. “She picked up a semi-trailer and tossed it on its side to keep it from crushing a school bus after an accident.” He smiled. “Yes, sir. I'll see what I can find out and get the ball rolling.”
22 June 2015
Coudersport PA
The Girl Scout meeting ended with the usual swirl of young femmes meeting their rides. Sally moved through the swirl slowly and carefully – she did -not- want to take the chance of stepping on any toes. She perked up when she saw who'd come to pick her up. “Tommy! You're home!” She climbed carefully into his SUV, which leaned a bit to her side but took the load.
“That's Petty Officer Third Class Yeager to you, not-so-little sis. And yeah, I've got two weeks leave before I report to sub school. Called the folks an hour ago, gave them my ETA, and when they told me you were at Scouts, I offered to pick you up.”
“Hah. Great-grampa Earl still says you're unnatural. 'Thompsons have always been Army!' He blames Dad.”
“Hah to him, too. Speaking of unnatural, I'd swear he looks younger than Dad, these days.”
“Yeah... he almost does, doesn't he? Wonder if I get it from him...”
“The super-power thing? He told me once when I asked – he'd been at one of the nuclear tests back in the 50's and said he'd never been sick a day since. Could be...” They drove in silence for a few minutes. “Still worried about tossing that truck around in front of the whole school?”
“Yeah... a bit. Had to talk to people from the Bureau of Superhero Relations afterwards. I think they're the reason it didn't get into the newspapers.”
Her oldest brother nodded. “Wouldn't surprise me. They're probably trying to protect whatever shreds of your secret identity they can salvage. They talked to the folks, and to me, too. You raised quite a sh... err, quite a stink with that.”
Sally giggled. “I live on a farm, Tommy. I know the word you're trying not to say.”
“Yeah, but I'm trying to tone things down. If I cussed around Mom the way we do in the barracks, she'd wash my mouth out with soap.”
“You're all grown up. She wouldn't!”
“I am -not- going to test that, Sally. So... how did the end of the school year go?”
“It was weird. Everyone stopped teasing me and the rest of the Freak Squad – even Mrs. French stopped harassing me...”
Tommy laughed at that. “Still has it in for us, does she?”
“We aren't meek little wimps who let someone else fight our battles. Of course she does. But I think she decided that trying to harass the heroine of the hour was a bad idea. Mrs. Brown even thanked me – turns out that Richard was sitting on the side of the bus the trailer was leaning on. If I hadn't pulled it away, he could have been killed if it shifted again. But everyone was even more scared of me after seeing what I could -really- do if I wanted to. It was like I was a grenade, and everyone was on their best behavior so I wouldn't go off. Even some of the Squad acted that way.”
“Ick. That does sound weird. So... thought of a superhero name yet?”
“Maybe. Matt – new kid this year, real bright, and he wasn't scared of me even after the accident – he suggested I should pick something to do with iron. After the accident, I started taking some of my snacks to school and they noticed. So he said, why not Iron in Latin? Ferrum sounded weird, though, so we settled on Ferric.”
“Ferric, eh? It ought to work. And you have plenty of time to change your mind, still. You're only twelve. Even if you do look like you could play linebacker for the Steelers.” He pulled into the driveway of the farm and drove up to the house. “Now that's odd...”
Sally frowned. “Yeah. None of the lights are on, except the automatics. Where is everyone?” Tom shut down the engine and they got out of the vehicle. “Hello!? Mom!? Dad!?”
Tom froze at the sound of weapons arming. Sally spun to look. Four figures had emerged from the shadows around the barn, their forms indistinct under black clothing and masks. “Your family is fine, Miss Yeager. And they will remain so as long as you cooperate.”
“Where are they?”
“You don't need to know that. But you will be joining them soon. If you'll both step this way...?”
William Thompson, newly minted Bachelor's in Climatology from Penn State and advanced degree candidate in the same field at MIT, looked at the incoming number on his cell phone with alarm. He'd been contacted by the Bureau before, but always when there was an obvious weather problem they wanted him to help with. Today everything was normal. “Coriolis here.”
“This is Betsy Ross at Philadelphia. We've got unusual activity from your cousin's beacon. Was she planning on any trips this week?”
“Not that I know of... Where is she going?”
“We're not sure. Towards northern New England, though. It looks like a private aircraft; it's moving at three-hundred-fifty knots but not on a standard airline route.”
“No one in the family would be traveling in a private jet without me knowing about it. I confirm that this is not an authorized trip.”
“We'll scramble a team.”
“Put me on it.”
“Coriolis, standard procedure is not to allow family--”
“I know. But she's only twelve, and she knows me. I have to at least be there when they pull her out.”
There was a long pause. “Very well. Mighty Mule will allow you to accompany the team, but not to go in on the extraction should that prove necessary. You're already in Boston, correct?”
“Effectively. Cambridge.”
“Meet the team at Logan in two hours. Philadelphia out.”
He was sitting on top of the Logan International Airport control tower less than an hour later (and was adjusting the weather to make sure that the fog that was threatening to make an appearance wasn't going to happen) when he was joined by a brown-furred rabbit mel wearing a red and black costume with an insignia of twinned forward and reversed D's made of nested loops. “Evening, kid. Coriolis, right? I'm Teragauss.”
“That's me. You're assigned to the mission?”
“Yep. Rapier and Exit are coming up from New York, and Liberty Belle from Philly. Star Avenger's unfortunately busy at the moment.”
“Did they tell you anything about it?”
“They got the State Police to check out the home. The entire family's missing, so we're looking at a probable hostage situation.“
Coriolis couldn't hide his shock. “All of them? The kids as well as Tom and Molly?”
The rabbit gave him a very suspicious look. “You -know- them. Why are you here?”
“I'm not supposed to do the mission. I'm there for the aftermath, the young super is my cousin. But if I can help, I want to. If nothing else, I can provide fog cover for the team on its way in.”
Teragauss relaxed a little. “Fair enough. But there's a reason family members aren't supposed to be in on these things. If something goes wrong and you start killing normals in revenge, -we- have to sit on you, and you'll probably end up depowered or worse. You sure you can handle it, or do I have to send you home?”
“I -have- to handle it. Sally's only twelve. The other kits...” He paused to remember. “...Betty's five, she's youngest of the six, and Tommy Junior is nineteen. He's in the Navy now, but he wasn't answering his phone, either, and I think he was home on leave. If something happens to -any- of them, you may need me there to help stop -Sally- from going on a rampage. And she went public back in March by -throwing- a loaded semitrailer off of a school bus.”
The rabbit nodded, thoughtfully. “Good answer, kid. All right, we'll take a chance on you.”
The raccoon twitched an ear at that, then snorted. “Should've known Mighty Mule was hedging his bets. Thanks.”
“Don't make me regret it, kid.”
“I'll do my best.”
The rabbit nodded again. “And that's why I said yes. You're not cock-sure you won't have a problem.
Which means that at the worst, you'll be trying to keep yourself under control if you do.”
“Heh. I'm a scientist when I'm not wearing gray. We -never- make absolute statements.”
“Didn't you just --”
“Shush. You're not supposed to notice that.”
The plane had barely stopped rolling before Teragauss and Coriolis boarded, and it was airborne again as soon as it had taxied back to the downwind end of the runway. They joined a bat-femme in a modified leotard, a mink-femme in dark gray combat fatigues, and a sword-carrying coyote mel in a black swashbuckler costume reminiscent of the old Zorro the Fox television show.
The coyote took charge as the plane took off. “Now that we're all here...”
The mink interrupted with, “And now that we've just gotten our target location..”
The coyote gave her a raised-eyebrow look, but continued. “The plane landed in Nashua, New Hampshire, about three quarters of an hour ago. The young super's beacon stopped moving fifteen minutes back, and we have the official plans for the location where she stopped.”
“Hang onto them. They'll probably be good for toilet paper.”
The coyote glared at the mink. “Exit, you are not on this mission to snark at me. I know perfectly well that the official plans are probably bullshit. As I was about to say... they appear to match the -grounds-, so we can use them to plan our initial entry. After that, it's all going to have to be improvised. The mission is to get the young super and her family out safely, and that's where Exit comes in. She and I will infiltrate the compound, and if all goes well, she can take us all home when we find them. At that point, you three will be notified and can stand down.”
Teragauss nodded. “And if it doesn't all go well?”
“That's where you and Liberty Belle come in. If we need backup, a diversion, or if Exit gets hurt and can't pull us out, you will attack from the outside and break through while we protect the civilians.” He turned to the raccoon. “Since you are here, I assume that Teragauss decided to risk your presence?”
“He did. I can provide fog or cloud cover for your infiltration if you need it. And as I told him – if something goes wrong, I should be there to stop Sally from going berserk. I don't know what she'd do if her family got hurt.”
“Hmm. That's certainly a possibility. What do you think, Exit? Would fog be a useful ploy?”
“Might be. Let's take a look at the plans, and see what we can figure out...”
Sally and Tommy hadn't seen the outside since they'd boarded the plane at Port Allegany. They'd been inside a hanger when they'd been transferred to the back of a truck, and the truck had been inside a warehouse when they'd been let out and marched to a freight elevator for a trip down to a nearly featureless corridor. Their final destination was a barracks bay fitted out with a dozen beds, an attached bathroom, and a small rec room with a television set and weights. The rest of the family was already there.
Betty burst into tears as they were ushered into the room at gunpoint. “They caught you, too? How will we get away now?!”
Eight-year-old Bobby just grunted. “Prolly her fault anyway.” This earned him a smack on the rump from his father.
“Robert Adam Yeager. This isn't anyone's fault but the bas--”
Molly glared. “Thomas....!”
Tom corrected himself. “The... -fursons- who did this to us. Any idea where we are, Tommy?”
“Not a clue, sir. Somewhere within six hundred miles of Port Allegany, judging from the flight time, but you probably already knew that. For all I know, they could have flown out and back and we're right back in Coudersport. Though I think we'd have noticed someone digging an underground base there.”
Sally shook her head. “This -is- probably my fault. If I hadn't...”
“Young lady, I'll hear no such nonsense from you. Even the bureaucrats admitted you had to do what you did when you saved your classmates.”
“Sorry, mom. But it's me they want. They told us that much on the way here, as if we couldn't have guessed. None of you get hurt if I cooperate.”
Her parents glanced at each other. Her father nodded, and her mother spoke. “Sally... you'll have to decide that yourself. If they want you to hurt -other- furs, you'll have to decide whether you want to do that. Don't worry about us if that happens. Whatever happens -won't- be your fault. It'll be -theirs-.”
The door opened, and everyone looked up as two femmefurs armed with rifles escorted in a squirrel-femme wearing a lab coat and stethoscope. “Touching, but you don't have to worry. We don't want young Sally to do anything to anyone. We merely want to study her.”
Molly glared. “You could have -asked-, if you were legit.”
The squirrel smiled. “Indeed. Let us just say that the Bureau is... less than cooperative about assisting scientists outside their own organization with useful data.”
Tom snorted. “I could -almost- believe that.”
“At any rate. Sally, you are satisfied that your family is fine?”
“For now.”
“Then we'll get started. You won't need that Girl Scout uniform. I've brought you a hospital gown to wear.”
“Fine.” She took it and turned to head toward the bathroom.
“Here. We don't want you out of our sight.”
“WHAT?!” The two riflewomen brought up their weapons.
Tom spoke up. “Boys. TV room. Now.” The males trooped obediently into the adjacent room and closed the door.
The squirrel waited patiently. “And now that your modesty is protected...?”
Sally took off her Scout uniform and handed it to her mother, and then knelt down to put the beacon pendant around Betty's neck. “Here, sis. You take care of this for me, okay? You know I'll come back to get it, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Sally received a rather sniffly hug from the young one, and rather less messy if still tearful ones from her mother and fourteen-year-old Barbara.
Her whisper was barely audible even right next to her mother's ear. “Mom, don't react. But keep the necklace safe. It'll bring the Bureau here. Don't worry about me. I'll sandbag 'em for a while.” She straightened up and turned to the squirrel. “All right. Let's go.”
Exit peered through low-light binoculars at the building. “Okay. Looks about the same as the blueprints. Security cameras at the corners, but in domes so I can't see the pattern. Coriolis, looks like you get to do the fog thing. Give us as close to pea soup as you can manage.”
“That'll take a little while.”
“Then get started.” She continued to stare at the building as the night turned dank and chill. “Rapier, I think our best bet is still the office doors. I can pick those locks and get us inside.”
The coyote nodded. “Works for me.”
“The beacon is showing depression, probably about three levels underground. We'll wait until it gets properly foggy, and then go in. You three – don't call us for anything less than 'two truckloads of armed mercs just showed up' and even then if we don't answer, do NOT use an override to get our attention. We might need to be staying quiet. Is that understood?”
Three affirmatives came back. “Good. Make sure you remember it.”
The medical lab was partly familiar, and partly creepy, with gadgets and stations she'd never heard of. The squirrel doctor patted the exam table and motioned her up. “Just sit down, and we'll start with the basics. Blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, height and weight, that sort of thing...” She looked up as the table groaned, to see that it was starting to bend. “On second thought, stand up, stand up!” She hurried over to inspect the table. “I... think we'll -start- with weight. Over here.”
'Over here' turned out to be a livestock scale. “We knew you were unusually heavy, but the last records we could find were less than five hundred pounds. That shouldn't have bent the exam table.”
“I'm pretty sure that's not even close, Doctor...Doctor...? What's your name?”
“Let's just go with Doctor for now, Sally. Step up.”
The scale spun up to sixteen hundred forty-five. “That looks about right, Doctor. I was at seven-hundred-forty kilos the last time I got a checkup. Pounds is two to one, right?”
“Two point two...” The squirrel replied absently, staring at the readout in disbelief. “And height..?” That turned out to be six foot eight. “But that means...”
“Yep. The Bureau doc said I'm practically made out of iron. She went on and on about some kind of... organic high-carbon steel mattress? Or something like that. Didn't understand all of it.”
“Matrix...”
Sally nodded. “Coulda been matrix. It was all sciency.” Mentally, she was grinning. <That's right, Doc Sinister. You get yourself all boggled, and I'll pretend to be as dumb as Rick the Dick until I can figure out what your game is.>
The doctor led her back to stand beside the table. “Well, we'll have to try your blood pressure standing.” She started by trying to read her pulse, and shook her head when she couldn't feel it. “So how did the Bureau people take your blood pressure?”
“They gave up trying when I was ten, Doc. I don't really have enough of one to measure, at least not through my skin. They took my pulse with a stethoscope, usually.”
The squirrel shook her head and tried the stethoscope.”What the...?”
Sally chuckled. “Yeah, I know. They let me listen to it last time. Kinda... thrums, doesn't it? Not the thump-thump everyone else has. Doc said something about my heart just running enough to circulate my blood when I'm not moving. Mostly, my muscles push it around.”
The squirrel rallied. “Pulse rate twenty-five per minute. You are certainly a unique specimen, Sally.”
The raccoon snorted. “That's what Mrs. French always says. 'Everyone is unique!' I think I'm uniquer than most furs, though. Somehow, I think that annoys her.”
“Who's Mrs. French?”
“My principal. She hates our whole family. We're not politically correct enough for her tastes. Plus, I think I've done a better job stamping out bullying at our school than she ever managed.”
The squirrel had been busying herself setting up a tray. “All right. I'm going to take a blood sample now. You're not scared of needles, are you?”
Sally giggled. “Nope. Needles are scared of -me-.”
The squirrel paused in mid-action. “Right. Steel matrix body. How -do- they get blood from you?”
“Duralloy scalpel. And then they kinda scoop it up, or let it drip. It's really cool if you get it near a magnet after you get it out. It goes all spiky and weird.”
“Is it even red?”
“Eh. Kinda. Real dark red. Kinda like a black red.”
The squirrel muttered under her breath, “I wonder if she even -has- blood cells...” She looked up as a red light started to flash. “Now what?”
“Is that an alarm? I think I'll go back to my family now. Just in case.”
“You'll stay right... here...” Something about the raccoon's grin made her realize that the girl didn't really -care- that there were two rifles trained on her. And then she made a quick calculation of the relative penetration power of a rifle bullet vs. a hypodermic needle, and came up with an answer that told her WHY the girl didn't care... <Uh-oh...>
“Nope. Remember, if they get hurt, I stop cooperating. So I'm going to go help to make sure they don't get hurt, all right?” The grin showed normal raccoon teeth, but somehow they looked like they should have belonged to a shark. And they -glittered-.
“Umm... yes. All right.” She nodded to the guards. “Escort her back. We'll continue after we find out why there's an alarm.”
The fog had thickened to the point where the rescue party could barely see their own feet. Exit muttered, “Good thing we had him do this.”
Rapier glanced in her direction. “Oh?”
“The fog is scattering the laser web. We would have blundered into it.”
“I didn't see anything.”
“I switched to infrared. And you can't -see- a laser unless it scatters, y'know. But with the fog this thick it won't be working. They'll have had to turn it off, or if not, it's in continuous alarm everywhere. Let's go!”
It took them only fifteen seconds to jump the fence and reach the door. Exit had the lock picked in another thirty, and then they were inside the darkened office. Exit handed Rapier a pair of IR goggles and led the way with an infrared flashlight. The ground floor was completely dark aside from the faint glow of the emergency exit signs, but the stairway was easy enough to find. “Crap. It only goes up.”
“You think they -have- to use the elevator?”
“Wouldn't be a good idea, too easy to get trapped, and extra elevators would be too noticeable. No, it'll be something weird. Like a staircase that doesn't stop on the ground floor. Let's go.”
The second floor turned out to have just that. Two guards were standing by it, and two more at the opposite end of the hall. <Amateur mistake number one. Obvious guards are obviously guarding something.> Motioning Rapier to stay there, she scouted around the cubicle maze until she found another way to the second guard post. Grinning, she sent the coyote a text. “Fifteen seconds from when you respond. I've got the other end, you take that one.”
Ten seconds later, her radio vibrated, and she started counting down. At five she started moving. At two, she came out of cover, knocked the first guard off his feet with a flying kick, came back into a crouch, took the second guard's rifle and hit him with it, then slammed the butt into the first guard just as he was starting to get back up. Two nerve strikes put them down for the count, and she looked up to see Rapier saluting her with his namesake weapon. No blood on it, though, he'd obviously used martial arts as well. She met him at the stairwell and they started down.
She nodded at the third level below ground, pointing to the transponder. “Right height, somewhere to the left. Might be guards on the other side. Let's go.”
The guards were farther down the hall. One of them raised a rifle. Exit's pistol was faster, and made only a soft *phut*, and that one went down. A second tranq dart took out the second guard a half-second later. Neither one had had a chance to yell. “We're starting to leave a trail. Hope this is the right place.”
Rapier nodded. “One way to find out. Might be guards on the other side, though.”
Exit checked the downed guards. “Hah. Keys.” The third one fit the lock. “Ready?”
“Ready.” They went through the door.
On the other side were another pair of guards, with rifles pointed loosely in the direction of a family of raccoons. They obviously hadn't been expecting anyone to get this far without some warning, but one of them managed to pull the alarm switch before going down. “Not unexpected.”
The alarm was a strident interrupted buzz, accompanied by a flashing red lamp over the door. “Looks like a standard bunkroom here. It even has a lavatory and a TV room.”
Rapier nodded. “So this is probably going off in all of the barracks rooms. They had a whole family to store away, so they cleared one out.”
Exit had turned to the raccoons. “You're the Yeagers, I presume?”
“Most of us. They took Sally away, said they wanted to 'run tests'. Threatened -us- if she didn't cooperate.” The elder male looked badly stressed by the situation; his wife just looked like she wanted to tear someone to pieces.
“Blast. We're supposed to get -all- of you out. Any idea where she is? Her beacon led us here.”
Molly nodded. “She left it with us when they took her away. It's in her necklace.”
Betty looked up. “Her necklace brought the heroes? She said -she'd- come back for it.”
Exit shrugged. “We've got a single door to guard, so we can keep you safe here for a while. I think we can wait a bit for your sister, kid. I'd bet she's on her way by now.”
Sally led the way back to the bunkroom at a trot. The guards struggled to keep up. “Slow down!”
She just chuckled as she called the bluff. “Make me.”
One of them wasn't bluffing. The shot rang out in the confined hallway. Sally stopped, turned around, growled at the guards, and then came back towards them. She ignored the second shot – the ricochet pinged a chip of concrete out of the wall. “One of my best friends told me I should choose 'Ferric' as my hero code name. D'you know what that means?”
The guard shook her head. “It means Iron.” She took the rifle from the guard's hands, flexed her arms, and bent the barrel. She held out her hand for the other guard's rifle. The guard backed up. “Either I break it, or I break -you-.” The guard dropped it and ran. “Meh. Close enough.” She stepped on the receiver, bent down and snapped the barrel off. She turned around again and ran toward the bunkroom where she'd left her family.
She rounded the corner to find three guards pointing rifles in her direction, while a fourth tried to break down the door. “Can't get in? That's a good sign, I think.” She slowed down to a walking pace.
“Stop right there!”
Sally just smiled again. “I'll tell you what I told that other guard. Make me.” She waded through the resulting fusillade of shots without slowing down and then brushed the guards aside. “Enough of that. Those things are noisy in here.”
She knocked on the door. “I'm back! Let me in?”
“Is that you, Sally?”
“Ayep. Hmm. Top row of my merit badges are computers, bird-watching, orienteering, and baking.”
The door unlatched, but failed to open. “I think they jammed it.”
“Stand back.” She gave it a count of five, then kicked. It flew open, and she stepped through and closed it again. “Drat. Now it won't stay shut.” She leaned against it.
Her mother gasped. “What -happened- to you?”
“Hmm? Oh, gosh...” She blushed, and covered herself with her hands. The barrage hadn't done anything to harm her, but her hospital gown was in tatters and her bra was hanging loose by a single damaged strap. “Kinda got caught in a bullet storm. Can I have my uniform back?”
Bobby snickered and sing-songed, “I can see your boo-by!” He got another swat and was forcibly turned around while his sister got dressed.
“That's better.” She looked at the Bureau agents. “I'm... Ferric. You are?”
“I'm Exit, and he's Rapier. And I'll be taking us home, if you don't mind.”
“Don't mind at all, ma'am. I suspect we'll have more of my fan club showing up soon. What's the plan to get out of here?”
Exit smiled. “Just hold hands.” She held hers out, and the rest of the furs formed a circle. She chuckled. “There's no place like home...” A moment later she staggered, obviously in pain. “Aggh! Shit! What the hell!?”
Molly sniffed. “Language, young lady. There are children--.”
The mink growled. “Shut up, you. We have a problem.” She counted noses. “Six adults, near enough. Four kids. Shouldn't be...” She stared at Sally. <Ferric, she called herself. Technically, the higher oxidation state, but... iron.> “Ferric, eh? How much do you -weigh-, kid?”
“Sinister Squirrel just checked that. Sixteen hundred forty-five.”
“Good lord in a blender! What idiot signed off on the mission without checking that? We have a BIG problem, Rapier.”
Rapier frowned. “You can get her out, and probably the two youngest with her. That's the mission.”
“Bull. The mission is to get them -all- out.”
Sally asked, “What's your limit, Miss Exit?”
“About a ton. I could get ten -normal- people out, no problem. But you...”
“Yeah. I've been hearing -that- since second grade. I'm too big and fat.”
“You're not fat, chica. But you -are- heavy.” Footsteps sounded in the corridor. “And the fan club is back.”
“I walked through one bullet storm already, I can handle another.” She stared down her mother when she started to protest. “I'm not even -bruised-, mom. The Bureau folks figured that out last time they gave me a checkup and they couldn't get a needle into my arm. We tested it – pistols I barely feel, rifles are no problem, they even tried a Ma Deuce – that stung, but it took that big a gun to even make me bruise. Go. I'll be fine.”
Rapier interrupted. “Exit. I'm ordering you to take the girl and as much of her family as you can.”
Exit looked at him, and looked back at Ferric. “You're sure?”
“Yes. And even if I wasn't, I'd still tell you to take all of them first.”
The mink looked her in the eyes, and then nodded. “You've got the look, chica. You'll do.” She gave the girl a salute. “You've got it.” Bullets started to ping off the door that Sally was holding shut.
“EXIT! I gave you an order!”
“Yes, you did. But it was a stupid order, so I'm going to ignore it.” She giggled. “Always wanted to use that line... Join hands, the rest of you. Rapier, you coming?” She looked up at Sally. “Stairs are to the left. Four flights up, down the hall, one flight down. Teragauss, Liberty Belle, and Coriolis are waiting outside.” She clicked her radio. “Guys? I'm bugging out with the family. Can't carry young Ferric, she'll be coming out to meet you. Head on in.” Bullets started to leak through the door and past the bent edges. “Last call, Rapier. Five, four, three, OW, bloody hell! Bye!” There was a bang and a rush of air into the place they'd been.
Sally grinned. Rapier had vanished with the rest after all. She yanked the door off its hinges and stepped out, using it as a shield. <With a bit of luck, maybe I can get out of here without getting arrested for indecent exposure.>
29 June 2015
Geneva, Switzerland
Bureau of Superheroes, Main Headquarters
A bison-femme dressed in Amerindian buckskins banged a gavel. “This meeting of the Council is now in session. Morningstar, North American Region, presiding.”
She leaned back and glanced at her six fellow Directors; Noble Knight of Europe, Ivan the Terrible from Russia, Tigress Titan of China, Cleopatra of Africa, El Supremo of Latin America, and Captain Australia representing Oceania. “The issue at hand is the determination of procedure in the wake of the exposure of the identity of an underage super. Legal Beagle, if you would review the basic facts for us?”
“Of course, ma'am.” She cleared her throat. “The young raccoon in question has always been a difficult case for identity protection. Her powers cause unusual, permanent, and very obvious body variations from the norm, including size, weight, and recently the appearance of metallic overtones to her teeth, skin and fur. Earlier this year, her abilities were publicly exposed when she rescued a bus full of her fellow students following a traffic accident; there was neither time nor opportunity to change into a costume even if she had had one available. Her actions saved at least a half-dozen lives, and prevented additional injury to another two dozen or so. Subsequent to that, her family was kidnapped in the incident detailed in the reports you have been given...”
“.... and the recommendation of the North American Directorate is that she be given tentative status as a probationary agent without a secret identity at Colmaton, and that her family be given new identities under a variation of the Witness Protection Program.”
Morningstar nodded as the presentation concluded. “And we now open the floor for discussion. Ivan?”
The Russian bear rumbled, “I am vonderink, vhy Colmaton?”
“There are already two underage supers present at Colmaton. We felt that keeping them together would allow them to have a social peer group.”
“Da, makes sense. Spasebo.”
Noble Knight was the next to raise her hand. “Is there going to be a problem with her cousin?”
“We don't believe so. Apparently they've known about each other for several years already, and even as a child, Ferric never told anyone. Even after our medical personnel started testing her, she never breathed a word of it even though she -could- have told Bureau personnel. She's always been very mature for her age, I understand.” <And -more- mature than certain full-fledged agents I could mention...>
The mare nodded. “Very well.”
Cleopatra was still looking over the mission report. “She really told Exit to do the.. what is phrase... dust-off and leaf her behind?”
“According to Exit, she not only refused, she insisted that the others go in spite of Rapier's orders to the contrary.”
Tigress Titan frowned. “Bad for discipline, this.”
“Perhaps. But it was the correct call. She literally walked out of the place through two dozen remaining guards and a hail of bullets, none the worse aside from shredded clothing. Even Exit and Rapier couldn't have managed that in the tight space they were in. In the opinion of the majority of the North American Directorate, she and Exit both showed good judgment in refusing an order given by a superior who did not fully comprehend the situation.”
“A majority?” The tigress raised an eyebrow. “Who disagreed?”
“That would have been Atomic Ape.”
Cleopatra huffed. “THAT one.”
Captain Australia chuckled. “I've met the cobber. 'Is nay vote is a recommendation -for- the sheila, ya ask me.”
Titan actually smiled. “Indeed. I find myself in agreement, as well.”
Morningstar smiled. “Any other questions?” No one said anything. “All in favor?” Seven hands rose. “The ayes have it. So ordered.”
The End
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