Subject 12

by S. W. Douglas

  It was the final step, I realized. Put it on and become that thing I'd despised for so long. I wasn't a face anymore, however lost in the crowd I was. I was a mask; no longer me, just a name. I became a reputation and nothing more than a cog in an organization I hated.

  Or did I? I respected many of the members, agreed with most of the goals expressed in their charter, and even had gone to bat for them against Alpha Zulu, though the relationship there was a bit iffy. They'd allowed me to rename myself to take a step away from my past and stood by me despite our introduction. Did I not owe them the same?

  No, I didn't. I owed myself the respect I'd lose if I didn't stand by them. I owed them thanks, but I'd done my duty. Yes, I owed them, but I owed myself more and none of it extended to this damn mask.

  I was going to have to wear it, though. As ridiculous as it really was, I was going to walk right into the building, shake hands with everyone who was there who needed a handshake, and play the part I'd been assigned. I'd agreed to do it and I saw no way out of it without not only reneging on my word but in hanging my ass out the window to see who would be first to take a shot at it.

  You know, any more than I was by walking back into the lion's den with a freshly-cut steak hanging off my neck.

  I wiped some of the blood off my hands --- in this case the mysterious white powder I hoped was talc --- and folded the mask so it would fit under the belt.

  "Everything okay in here?"

  I caught Venom's reflection in the mirror and waved her over. "Sure thing. I just had some thinking I had to do."

  "That looks good on you. Aww, you don't like the star?"

  "No. If I'm going to play a good little super hero then I'm going to play one smart enough not to put something on his chest that would draw bullets and eye-based heat rays." I cleared my throat. "Besides, I didn't pick a name that would play to that."

  "Good point. Back when I was Pretty Poison I had a spider on my chest and you wouldn't believe the jokes I had to deal with. When I became Venom the spider took a powder and I just wore something low-cut and bulletproof." She brushed some nonexistent lint from my shoulder and wrapped her arm around my waist. I could see the nervousness on her face as she did it but respected that she was willing to risk the intimacy anyway. "Made me look better and cut down on the spider jokes, but didn't help with the offhand comments."

  "Did you pick the star or was Corrine responsible?"

  "I did. I also told them to make sure it was removable. I just wanted you to have some color."

  "So you picked blood red?" I pulled the mask free and unfolded it. Two eye-holes and two silver stripes stared back at me.

  "In case you hadn't noticed from my wardrobe, I have a thing for red." Her smile in the mirror caught my eye and made me smile back. "If you're willing I have a few choice pieces of underwear I haven't worn in a while I think you'd like. Guess the color, I dare you."

  "Red, scarlet, or vermilion. Possibly pink." I flexed my fingers and felt the gloves seat themselves better than they had. Self-adjusting cloth was not cheap. "Though I'm sure that somewhere you have something white that would make a fetishist blush. Or at least will as soon as you can get to a lingerie store now that I put the idea in your head."

  She laughed. "You're pretty cocky."

  "I know my audience." I slipped my left hand into hers and squeezed it gently. "Or, at least I know quite a bit. I'd like to fill in the blanks, too."

  "Good." She released my hand and dropped her arm to her side. "Now, if you don't mind, we'd like to try five-hand poker again. Wildcard seems to be hogging all the aces but none of us can see him cheat, so we want you to deal."

  "Alright."

  The five of us didn't quite fill the available space in the back of the limo. Wildcard and Corrine sat opposite me and Jackhammer shared the honor of sitting next to me with Venom, each of them riding to either side. I didn't know if it was intentional or accidental, but it didn't really matter; if I snapped, Corrine was the best one to put me down fast. I wasn't sure they realized that but I didn't much care, either.

  My four companions and I rode in silence; they stared out the windows at the familiar landmarks while I stared at the thing in my hands, all of us lost in our own thoughts. Jackhammer looked especially pensive, his chin firmly planted on the back of his hands, themselves perched on a jaunty-looking cane.

  I stared at the mask; the two silver stripes running from the corners of the left eye-hole to the bottom of the material making me wonder if they were like the star --- an accent Venom had wanted --- or had some special meaning I didn't grasp.

  My refusal to wear it would continue till the last moment possible. It just didn't seem right. Hell, nothing about this whole situation sat really well with me, especially with the paranoia that always followed a serum treatment.

  On the other hand, a tiny voice inside my head chuckled, what would seem right to someone whose grasp of reality could only reliably be measured up to some point yesterday?

  I couldn't say. Still, one thing I'd learned very early on during the first treatments saved me from agreeing with the voice. Down that road lay madness.

  I couldn't doubt what I thought of as reality till I had a reason to. I had to do the one of the things that came hardest to me. I had to trust.

  I also had to distract the crap out of myself or the voices would start in, as would the memories, and that road was an eight-lane divided highway.

  "How much longer until we get there?" I broke the silence like a prudent man would break wind in a similar situation --- as gently as possible and only out of desperate need.

  "I'm sorry, what?" Jackhammer was the first one to pull himself back from wherever he was. "I was a little lost there."

  "How much longer until we arrive?" I repeated.

  "I think about twenty minutes. Depends on traffic, which does seem to be heavy today," Corrine said to the window she was staring out. "Figure twenty-five, maybe thirty on the outside."

  "Thanks." I lapsed into silence like the rest of them. I had no window to stare out to distract myself so I found myself staring at the mask again. Whispers taunted from the back of my mind but I refused to listen.

  "You're goin' to have to put that on, you know." Jackhammer cleared his throat. "I never was one for a full-facer like that, but we can't exactly have you paradin' around where people can see you."

  "I know. It wouldn't have been my first choice, either." I bunched it up between my hands and held it for a second before stretching it out. "I hear they're really quite comfortable. In fact, I think I heard that in the future everyone will be wearing them."

  "Only if people learn to like breathing through a rubber glove." Venom patted my thigh. "I never could figure how Corrine stands it. Wildcard, well, I always figured he was a masochist. He proved it a few times, too."

  "I wear one because I got used to it. I also started rubbing some of that cream you made up into it so whenever I wear it I get a free facial."

  "Oh, is that why I saw you wearing it a couple nights ago when I bumped into you on the way to the kitchen?"

  "Not exactly," Jackhammer interjected with a wicked grin.

  "Oh, ew! Don't you dare make me imagine that. You're like my frigging parents!" I felt Venom shudder. "Ew!"

  Corrine looked aghast at her husband who, along with Wildcard and myself, was laughing so hard I thought at least one of us was going to wet our pants. When I cooled down a little it made me wonder if I even could wet my pants.

  "What do you think of this mask," I asked Wildcard, offering him the rubbery thing to inspect. He played with it for a minute or so in ways I couldn't begin to describe that were only possible with arms and fingers that not only had no set joints but could be any length.

  He handed it back to me and wiggled his hand in the universal "so-so" gesture. I knew asking him to explain would be pointless so I just thanked him and looked it over again. A lot of the powder had disappeared but I had the feeling it wouldn't really matter eithe
r way.

  "It's a big step," Corrine prompted. "We all understand that."

  "You have no idea," I said quietly, knowing all their eyes were on me. I took a quick breath and committed myself. I stretched the mask out and slipped it over my head. It settled easily, the holes lining up nicely with my eyes, and a moment's adjustment had them centered perfectly. I worked my jaw a few times to see how restrictive it was going to be and was pleasantly surprised that it didn't feel at all tight. Also surprising was the breath I took. I smelled talc and felt a tickle in my nose but airflow seemed unimpeded.

  "I told you he wouldn't freak out. That'll be a hundred bucks, buster." Venom stuck her hand in Corrine's direction.

  "Before you ask, it's a special mesh under the nostrils. It looks and acts like the rest of the material but in no way interferes with airflow at low velocities. It will, however, block fluids, so you'll have to roll it up to eat or drink, but you don't have to worry about getting rain up the nose." Corrine shrugged, ignoring Venom for the moment. "You'll get used to it."

  "That's what they said about drop diapers," I said to myself.

  "Drop diapers?"

  "Alpha Zulu-issue undergarments for HALO jumps. Hyper-absorbent just in case of an accident, but there's no mistaking the feel of a disposable diaper's closure catching pubic hair, or the sensation of walking up a beach with a mess in front or behind you." I coughed. "I'm told it felt very squishy."

  "Ew," Venom repeated. "And I want American. None of that play money from north of the border."

  I looked at Wildcard. All he did was slowly shake his head as he looked back at me.

  The limo stopped outside a non-descript section of the wall surrounding the Guildhall, some distance from the main entrance and the larger of the two gangs of protestors/demonstrators hanging around it. A moment after we stopped, part of the wall started to slide into another section. A few seconds passed and the new hole was wide enough for us to drive inside.

  It felt like as soon as we parked someone was ushering us out, through hallways that looked identical to every other hallway in the place, and along a path that seemed to backtrack almost as much as it moved forward. The hustle and bustle I'd been expecting wasn't there, either. I didn't see anyone except the short woman acting as a guide. She was in full costume, though I didn't know if it was because of the memorial or if she'd just come back from being on duty. I also couldn't see anything except the satiny blue cloak and the wraparound green eye-mask that trailed down her back further than her from-a-box red ponytail. She eventually lead us into what looked almost exactly like the backstage area of my highschool's auditorium. Then, with a quick nod in our direction she crossed her arms across her chest and quickly faded from view. I didn't know what she had done but she wasn't there anymore and nobody felt the need to comment on it, so I didn't either. Maybe my lack of experience with potent supers was going to be a problem after all.

  I heard murmuring from the other side of what I could clearly see was the stage area. Apparently most of the people were already assembled. Also quite apparent was the fact that I hadn't been told everything I should have.

  I grabbed Jackhammer's shoulder to get his attention and pulled him a few steps away from the others for the illusion of privacy.

  "Is there something you're not telling me?" I pitched my voice low and kept my hands at my sides, but I could still feel my fingers curling into fists.

  "I'm sorry, son, but I didn't think there was any way to get you here if we'd told you everything." The mask made it hard to tell even to my eyes, but he looked slightly embarrassed. "If you're goin' to run with the Titans then you need to be seen with us. That means if we're on stage, you're on stage."

  "I didn't say anything about running with the Titans." I almost regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth.

  Almost.

  "You're runnin' with us." What I could see of his face grew cold. "We're the Titans."

  "And if I'm not with you I'm against you, is that what you're saying?"

  "Not at all. But you're here, and you came of your own free will. That has to speak to somethin'."

  "Screw you, Jack." I bit back a load of vitriol that threatened to spew all over him and looked away. "You should have told me."

  "That's what Viv and Corrine said, but I overruled. Look. You're here, now, and you got two choices. Go out there with us, speak up when you're told, and behave yourself for a few hours, or wait back here. You go out there with us and you'll be one of us, with all that entails. Stay back here and all you'll be is one tough motherfucker who's wanted by the government, your pal Kinsey, and The Justice Fiend." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I want you out there with us, son. I'd rather see you on our side than have Clarence sniffin' around for you like a bloodhound."

  "So do I," Corrine said, stepping closer. "Vivian too." Her voice dripped with kindness. "And I don't think Wildcard would be too happy if you left us."

  I felt another hand touch my shoulder. I didn't have to look at it to see the the shifting colors that marked its owner.

  "Now's the time. Join us as Hammer on the stage or walk away right now. We can't protect you if you're not with us. I wish there was more time, son, but I don't have any myself."

  "What's expected of me?" I heard myself say. A surge of voices and memories tried to wash over me. It was all I could do to hold on to where I was and who I was with.

  "I'll tell you when I call you," Jackhammer said, squeezing my shoulder. "For now, follow Wildcard onto the stage and sit next to him. Corrine and I will lead."

  I nodded. While I did, technically, have a choice in the matter, it certainly didn't feel like I had any at all.

  Guild Intelligence File 92-96-42X-3

  Submitted to Guild Intelligence on July 30. Accepted.

  Intelligence review begun August 11. Rejected per Drako Protocol.

  Re-submitted to Guild Intelligence on August 14 with S1, S2, and J3 markings. Intelligence acceptance proceedings overridden. Archived.

  Prioritized intelligence review begun on December 14. Classified Eyes-Only December 15 due to inclusion in Guild Intelligence File 92-45-16B-1A.

  Partial Transcript Follows:

  Security Report Re: Grid Iron Memorial Service.

  After the breach and murders a top-to-bottom security review was performed per Hypnotico's instructions. Many faults and problems were identified. Suggestions and operational modifications were forwarded, however as it has been more than the mandatory fifteen days since the review was initiated and no word has yet been received, no further action has been taken. [obscured] As such it is this body's considered opinion that any memorial services not be held in the parade ground as planned. The auditorium is suitable for all the invited guests and the closed-circuit feed can be descrambled to the media outlet(s) of choice if it is so desired. Inviting the public with only minimal searches will be too risky for this occasion. If the public is to be invited then it is strongly recommended that a fixed metal detector be installed on all public entrances, a chemical sniffer tuned to common and all known accessible exotic explosives, and hand wands be issued to all security personnel at least twenty-four hours prior to the event.

  [paragraph obscured]

  At this juncture Intelligence is reminded that further security staffing has been requested at every quarterly review and the lack of increase in funding to allow such staffing increase continues to baffle. If scuttlebutt is to be believed, the intruder had a composite score [obscured] to The Justice Fiend [obscured] and, as such, expecting a dozen norms normally armed with pistols, pepper spray, and stun guns to stop such an individual is insanity. An emergency stipend to put more feet on the ground during this event is most strongly suggested.

  At the very least, please allow some of the more indifferent Guild members to stand guard during the event. Grid Iron was [partly obscured --- {hateful bastard?}] and there are more than a few people here who aren't exactly sad to see him go.

  [An enumerat
ed list of names totalling either thirty-six or thirty-seven has been obscured except for part of the last two; Jessie {obscured} and The Phenomenal PaterNose(?).]

  The commander has spoken to everyone on this list and they would all, to varying degrees of pleasure, be more than happy not to be involved in the ceremony in any way, though most have expressed some willingness to help protect the ceremony from attack.

  Please advise.

  Sincerely,

  [obscured]

  Master-at-Arms, Guild Security, Reno branch.

  [obscured]@guildhq.org

  Chapter 7

  The memorial, not to mince words, was dull. I'm talking day-old dishwater dull. It was all I could do to pay attention to what was being said around me instead of listening to the voices in my head. The raw surge of sanity-blasting problems I'd been afraid of hadn't happened yet, thankfully. So far the waves had been preceded by enough warning I could distract myself and ignore them, but it was growing more difficult by the minute; schmuck after schmuck droning on about the accomplishments of a dead man --- accomplishments the man couldn't have done half of.

  In fact, I heard the Mayor of Chicago say he'd saved them from a madman who was trying to mutate all the dogs in the city. Even the Fox News Network had declared the "madman" to be nothing more dangerous than a homeless guy strung out on some combination of crack and designer drugs.

  Fox News. I've always loved that name. Since to "fox" someone is to deceive them, doesn't that mean the name "Fox News Network" literally means its "news" is only to deceive its viewers? Just a thought.

  "What's up with that?" I whispered to Venom. She was sitting on the opposite side of me from Wildcard. I'd chosen not to complain about the fact that I was sitting square in the middle of the stage. It meant whoever was talking at the podium obscured me from the TV cameras.