The coffee tasted as if it has been boiled for six hours, and held a bitter, reassuring bite. Despite the cigarette stained walls and the meager “Thank you for not smoking” sign, Nancy Surhoff’s tiny office held for Katrina a certain warmth and sadness. Nancy Surhoff had her red hair tied back in a scraggly ponytail. Still, her face looked a little fuller than Katrina had seen it last. Too thin, Katrina heard her grandmother, or her aunt scoff. With an irritated shrug, she brushed the fractured memory away.
“Kat, didn’t you read the weather report? You’re lucky you didn’t get soaked.”
“Just have to stay under awnings, it's not that bad out,” Katrina lied. The Maniac would worry her, and Drifter -- No. “Thanks for letting me drop by so late.”
“Since you sent Acro to us, there’s been six incidents.”
“You were averaging six a week.”
Nancy Surhoff chuckled. “Word gets around. One guy had a gun. But, aside from a broken wrist, things ‘worked themselves out.’”
“I’m pretty sure bullets would just irritate her. The guy’s lucky she didn’t toss him around like a baby seal.”
Nancy grimaced. “The men that come around might be deranged and damaged, but don’t deserve a death sentence. At least they’re not so stupid as to actually fight Acro.” Nancy pointed out the doorway to the breakroom. Katrina made note of the splintered wood along the sides and top. “Its a tight fit, having her around, but she makes the women feel better,”
“If it weren’t for you, Acro be out on the street until ARGENT, or even VIPER, offered her a gig. You gave her a chance, Ms. Surhoff. I really appreciate that.”
“Pleasure’s been all mine. And you convinced PRIMUS to let MCPD handle Acro’s parole -- not that having an armored truck come down the street once a week didn’t do wonders for the neighborhood watch, but it was hell on the street. Still, social work’s a little out of the bailiwick of an UNTIL liaison, isn’t it?” Nancy asked.
“The Office of Superbeing Relations is here to support heroes.”
“I’m not sure Acro, with her record, exactly qualifies as a--”
“I wasn’t talking about Acro.” Katrina said.
Surhoff blurt out an embarrassed laugh, and shook her head as she plucked at the peeled edging on the splidly table. “Shut up. Still, if you find a wayward lawyer--”
“You? A lawyer?”
“It's amazing how much paperwork goes into keeping someone away who wants to kill you. I spend most of my time in one government office or another. And before you say it, I’ve hit up Uncle Jimmy. I could just use one with super speed.“
“Monster Island isn’t known for its law schools, but I’ll see if anything turns up. Any idea who’s plastering your sidewalk with strip club ads?”
“Not a clue, but this is the fifth time in five weeks, so whoever it is, they’re on the top of my list for the baby seal treatment.”
Katrina chuckled. Everyone has a list. “That’s a lot of ads. Someone would have to be out for hours to put those all down. There must have been a few thousand out there.”
“Three thousand six hundred and twenty seven.”
“If the cameras didn’t catch --”
“Nothing, but Jimmy says he knows some experts to look for superspeed on video.”
“I’m sure they’ll do the best they can,” Katrina said, “but their video analyzer is probably from the nineties. Have you talked to the S.A.’s Office about it?”
“You think I should talk to a Silver Avenger Sanchez about some jerk leaving strip club ads?”
“I’m not seeing many situations where this winds up being a run-of-the-mill domestic. If I get involved and don’t loop her in, PRIMUS and UNTIL get all tangled up.”
Nancy Surhoff shook her head. “And by tangled up, you mean someone gets their dick stepped on and there’s all sorts of shouting.”
Katrina chuckled. “Pretty much.”
“I thought you were on vacation.”
Katrina tried to hide her frown as she finished the coffee. “Were you spying on me?”
Nancy Surhoff shrugged. “You’re the one who had us put in the security system.”
“Oh yeah. Well, just taking some time. Orders.”
“Don’t knock good orders. My commander’s a hard nosed bitch.”
“But you work for yourself -- ah,” Katrina said then felt a buzzing in her hoodie pocket. Her phone, returned, flashed a message. “Never mind about playbill fellow. Its handled -D” Katrina read the last words again. Its handled.
“Something wrong?” Surhoff asked.
Katrina shoved the phone in her pocket. “Nothing.”
“You’re not going to get much of a vacation if you don’t turn that phone off.”
“I know, I know--”
“Kat, listen -- no, just listen. You’ve always been busy, but this last year you have been constant. You really should get back to that old routine -- you know the one that had time for a movie occasionally, and you even brought that fellow to the holiday ball--
“Nick. Yeah well -- “ Katrina shook her head. What could she say? OSR classified so much. “It didn’t work out,” Katrina finished with a noncommittal shrug. The silence between them hung like a shroud.
“You should--”
“I can’t really talk about it. Its confidential,” Katrina said with more force than she intended. “Look, I--” She’d intended to apologize, but Nancy only shook her head.
“I get it. Doesn’t matter if its UNTIL or MCPD. You can’t say anything, but you can’t stop me from saying, and I’m saying this as a friend, Kat. I know all about burying myself in work to know a dodge when I see it. Celestar forgot the human part of superhuman and look what that got him.”
A nervous breakdown. A deal with Telios. “I--”
“Kat, I don’t care what happened last year. I care about you, and whatever happened marked you, and I don’t mean that little scar under your eye, little miss, I-can-heal-from-getting-shot. As far as I know, that scar is the only one you’ve got -- at least on the outside. Everyone thought Celestar was fine until he wasn’t, and you’ve got an even better poker face than he ever did, but I’ve known you for four years.”
“You’re afraid I’m going to snap.”
“I’m worried you’re going to collapse. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid for you. You act like you can shake anything off, like some wound that regenerates. I don’t think anyone’s told you that there’s some things aren’t just shaken off. They stick around, and pop up at the damnedest times -- especially around anniversaries. Just promise me you’ll actually use some of this vacation for you.”
Katrina tapped out a quick message to Drifter. Meet me in twenty minutes. The return number on the screen didn’t make any sense, but she figured he’d get the message anyway. That would be just enough time, if she was quick.
“Alright, I promise. Thanks for the coffee, Nancy, and everything else. But I gotta go. I’ve got noodles with Hi Pan.”
Nancy grinned. “Oh my dear, you can do so much better.”
“Ha. No. Reminds me. How’s your evacuation plan?”
“From the building?”
“From Wayne County.”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because.”
“UNTIL confidential again? Because that’s starting to sound like one of those questions that’s telling more than its asking.”
Because malfunctioning death rays that were modeled after the ones that were used to destroy this city the first time are heading for Millenium City, and while we know who might have those weapons, we don’t know where they are, what they want, and whether they know the weapons don’t work more than they explode in a devastating fashion. One of them is an insane pyromaniac, the other an assassin trained by UNTIL, and knows exactly how we operate. And I’m supposed to enjoy my vacation.
“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
Twenty minutes wasn’t much time, but cutting through the construction sites with a little late night parkour helped shave some time. The rain had become a bitter drizzle that dwindled into slivers of mist around Westside Cemetery. Even in the dark, Katrina unerringly chose the right meander through the gravestones, toward the back lot, where the streetlights drenched the monuments in light. The block was modestly recessed in the earth, the grass neatly trimmed away at the edge. In the upper corner, the seal of the Order of Valor, was pressed into the upper right corner of the marble.
She knelt by the tombstone and followed the cleancut edge of the letters with her eye and hoped if she read the words enough she’d stop waking up to the sound of his breathing, smell espresso without thinking of those mornings in Italy Row before she’d rush off to UNTIL HQ. Was that why she was working so hard -- to forget?
Jesus Nick, I’m sorry. When we started -- whatever we were -- we joked it would last six months, a year tops. Two years in, we were still making that joke. I’m sorry about Ragnarok. I’m sorry that you were indestructible. I’m sorry you were the price.
Katrina wiped at her cheeks. Face it Kat, you don’t want to forget. You want to atone. Isn’t that why you’re constantly moving, to outrun Shiva, the destroyer of worlds? Stupid girl, there is no atonement, there’s only tomorrow.
A flicker of light at the cemetery entrance. Drifter, hat dipped low, a pool of light on the concrete. Katrina shook her head at being immortal, and still not having enough time.
Katrina let the rain wash her face. A memory of church passed by, a young woman bored with the splendor of the cathedral ceiling. Yggdrasil would have been just a funny world, not even a myth. The stars were cold points, then, and if General Alexi Demetri Mirinov knew humanity was not alone in the cosmos, he never told his daughter. She wondered if she would have listened then, or if she’d have jaded her way through it with a shrug. Her sigh hung in the mist. To live the life of Methuselah, possibly longer.
Time. I know you said I should move on, Nick. You told me to, when Asgard was dying. Even Dr. White said a year was proper for mourning. But I think that’s for a normal human -- to go on with their lives and enjoy the time they have left. But I have time -- a lot more time, so I hope you don’t mind if I hang on to you a little longer. I’ll keep my promise and let you go, but -- just not yet.
At the gate to the cemetery, Drifter tipped his hat. “You can run if you want, but I can pop us to Hi Pan and you’ll hardly break a sweat.”
Katrina nodded as she wrestled with the words. “Drifter, are you immortal?”
“In what sense?”
“Is your life-span eternal?”
Drifter chuckled. “There you go, talkin’ like time’s a string or a line.”
“But, but even then, moving through time, this moment, these moments, they make up a duration. Isn’t that linear?”
“No, its not. Katrina, by the reckoning of this reality and perhaps a dozen others, I’ve died more times than I can or care to remember. It's change of being. You’ve died a couple times yourself, haven’t you?”
Katrina caught her breath. Did he know, or was he being metaphorical? Dr Blacks words crept back. An advanced mystic is so free from your reality that you will have no choice but to decide they are insane.
“Maybe I have. Lets go get some noodles.”
“Kat, didn’t you read the weather report? You’re lucky you didn’t get soaked.”
“Just have to stay under awnings, it's not that bad out,” Katrina lied. The Maniac would worry her, and Drifter -- No. “Thanks for letting me drop by so late.”
“Since you sent Acro to us, there’s been six incidents.”
“You were averaging six a week.”
Nancy Surhoff chuckled. “Word gets around. One guy had a gun. But, aside from a broken wrist, things ‘worked themselves out.’”
“I’m pretty sure bullets would just irritate her. The guy’s lucky she didn’t toss him around like a baby seal.”
Nancy grimaced. “The men that come around might be deranged and damaged, but don’t deserve a death sentence. At least they’re not so stupid as to actually fight Acro.” Nancy pointed out the doorway to the breakroom. Katrina made note of the splintered wood along the sides and top. “Its a tight fit, having her around, but she makes the women feel better,”
“If it weren’t for you, Acro be out on the street until ARGENT, or even VIPER, offered her a gig. You gave her a chance, Ms. Surhoff. I really appreciate that.”
“Pleasure’s been all mine. And you convinced PRIMUS to let MCPD handle Acro’s parole -- not that having an armored truck come down the street once a week didn’t do wonders for the neighborhood watch, but it was hell on the street. Still, social work’s a little out of the bailiwick of an UNTIL liaison, isn’t it?” Nancy asked.
“The Office of Superbeing Relations is here to support heroes.”
“I’m not sure Acro, with her record, exactly qualifies as a--”
“I wasn’t talking about Acro.” Katrina said.
Surhoff blurt out an embarrassed laugh, and shook her head as she plucked at the peeled edging on the splidly table. “Shut up. Still, if you find a wayward lawyer--”
“You? A lawyer?”
“It's amazing how much paperwork goes into keeping someone away who wants to kill you. I spend most of my time in one government office or another. And before you say it, I’ve hit up Uncle Jimmy. I could just use one with super speed.“
“Monster Island isn’t known for its law schools, but I’ll see if anything turns up. Any idea who’s plastering your sidewalk with strip club ads?”
“Not a clue, but this is the fifth time in five weeks, so whoever it is, they’re on the top of my list for the baby seal treatment.”
Katrina chuckled. Everyone has a list. “That’s a lot of ads. Someone would have to be out for hours to put those all down. There must have been a few thousand out there.”
“Three thousand six hundred and twenty seven.”
“If the cameras didn’t catch --”
“Nothing, but Jimmy says he knows some experts to look for superspeed on video.”
“I’m sure they’ll do the best they can,” Katrina said, “but their video analyzer is probably from the nineties. Have you talked to the S.A.’s Office about it?”
“You think I should talk to a Silver Avenger Sanchez about some jerk leaving strip club ads?”
“I’m not seeing many situations where this winds up being a run-of-the-mill domestic. If I get involved and don’t loop her in, PRIMUS and UNTIL get all tangled up.”
Nancy Surhoff shook her head. “And by tangled up, you mean someone gets their dick stepped on and there’s all sorts of shouting.”
Katrina chuckled. “Pretty much.”
“I thought you were on vacation.”
Katrina tried to hide her frown as she finished the coffee. “Were you spying on me?”
Nancy Surhoff shrugged. “You’re the one who had us put in the security system.”
“Oh yeah. Well, just taking some time. Orders.”
“Don’t knock good orders. My commander’s a hard nosed bitch.”
“But you work for yourself -- ah,” Katrina said then felt a buzzing in her hoodie pocket. Her phone, returned, flashed a message. “Never mind about playbill fellow. Its handled -D” Katrina read the last words again. Its handled.
“Something wrong?” Surhoff asked.
Katrina shoved the phone in her pocket. “Nothing.”
“You’re not going to get much of a vacation if you don’t turn that phone off.”
“I know, I know--”
“Kat, listen -- no, just listen. You’ve always been busy, but this last year you have been constant. You really should get back to that old routine -- you know the one that had time for a movie occasionally, and you even brought that fellow to the holiday ball--
“Nick. Yeah well -- “ Katrina shook her head. What could she say? OSR classified so much. “It didn’t work out,” Katrina finished with a noncommittal shrug. The silence between them hung like a shroud.
“You should--”
“I can’t really talk about it. Its confidential,” Katrina said with more force than she intended. “Look, I--” She’d intended to apologize, but Nancy only shook her head.
“I get it. Doesn’t matter if its UNTIL or MCPD. You can’t say anything, but you can’t stop me from saying, and I’m saying this as a friend, Kat. I know all about burying myself in work to know a dodge when I see it. Celestar forgot the human part of superhuman and look what that got him.”
A nervous breakdown. A deal with Telios. “I--”
“Kat, I don’t care what happened last year. I care about you, and whatever happened marked you, and I don’t mean that little scar under your eye, little miss, I-can-heal-from-getting-shot. As far as I know, that scar is the only one you’ve got -- at least on the outside. Everyone thought Celestar was fine until he wasn’t, and you’ve got an even better poker face than he ever did, but I’ve known you for four years.”
“You’re afraid I’m going to snap.”
“I’m worried you’re going to collapse. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid for you. You act like you can shake anything off, like some wound that regenerates. I don’t think anyone’s told you that there’s some things aren’t just shaken off. They stick around, and pop up at the damnedest times -- especially around anniversaries. Just promise me you’ll actually use some of this vacation for you.”
Katrina tapped out a quick message to Drifter. Meet me in twenty minutes. The return number on the screen didn’t make any sense, but she figured he’d get the message anyway. That would be just enough time, if she was quick.
“Alright, I promise. Thanks for the coffee, Nancy, and everything else. But I gotta go. I’ve got noodles with Hi Pan.”
Nancy grinned. “Oh my dear, you can do so much better.”
“Ha. No. Reminds me. How’s your evacuation plan?”
“From the building?”
“From Wayne County.”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because.”
“UNTIL confidential again? Because that’s starting to sound like one of those questions that’s telling more than its asking.”
Because malfunctioning death rays that were modeled after the ones that were used to destroy this city the first time are heading for Millenium City, and while we know who might have those weapons, we don’t know where they are, what they want, and whether they know the weapons don’t work more than they explode in a devastating fashion. One of them is an insane pyromaniac, the other an assassin trained by UNTIL, and knows exactly how we operate. And I’m supposed to enjoy my vacation.
“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
*
Twenty minutes wasn’t much time, but cutting through the construction sites with a little late night parkour helped shave some time. The rain had become a bitter drizzle that dwindled into slivers of mist around Westside Cemetery. Even in the dark, Katrina unerringly chose the right meander through the gravestones, toward the back lot, where the streetlights drenched the monuments in light. The block was modestly recessed in the earth, the grass neatly trimmed away at the edge. In the upper corner, the seal of the Order of Valor, was pressed into the upper right corner of the marble.
Nicholas Stewart
1980-2019
Beloved by Family and Friends
Hero
She knelt by the tombstone and followed the cleancut edge of the letters with her eye and hoped if she read the words enough she’d stop waking up to the sound of his breathing, smell espresso without thinking of those mornings in Italy Row before she’d rush off to UNTIL HQ. Was that why she was working so hard -- to forget?
Jesus Nick, I’m sorry. When we started -- whatever we were -- we joked it would last six months, a year tops. Two years in, we were still making that joke. I’m sorry about Ragnarok. I’m sorry that you were indestructible. I’m sorry you were the price.
Katrina wiped at her cheeks. Face it Kat, you don’t want to forget. You want to atone. Isn’t that why you’re constantly moving, to outrun Shiva, the destroyer of worlds? Stupid girl, there is no atonement, there’s only tomorrow.
A flicker of light at the cemetery entrance. Drifter, hat dipped low, a pool of light on the concrete. Katrina shook her head at being immortal, and still not having enough time.
Katrina let the rain wash her face. A memory of church passed by, a young woman bored with the splendor of the cathedral ceiling. Yggdrasil would have been just a funny world, not even a myth. The stars were cold points, then, and if General Alexi Demetri Mirinov knew humanity was not alone in the cosmos, he never told his daughter. She wondered if she would have listened then, or if she’d have jaded her way through it with a shrug. Her sigh hung in the mist. To live the life of Methuselah, possibly longer.
Time. I know you said I should move on, Nick. You told me to, when Asgard was dying. Even Dr. White said a year was proper for mourning. But I think that’s for a normal human -- to go on with their lives and enjoy the time they have left. But I have time -- a lot more time, so I hope you don’t mind if I hang on to you a little longer. I’ll keep my promise and let you go, but -- just not yet.
At the gate to the cemetery, Drifter tipped his hat. “You can run if you want, but I can pop us to Hi Pan and you’ll hardly break a sweat.”
Katrina nodded as she wrestled with the words. “Drifter, are you immortal?”
“In what sense?”
“Is your life-span eternal?”
Drifter chuckled. “There you go, talkin’ like time’s a string or a line.”
“But, but even then, moving through time, this moment, these moments, they make up a duration. Isn’t that linear?”
“No, its not. Katrina, by the reckoning of this reality and perhaps a dozen others, I’ve died more times than I can or care to remember. It's change of being. You’ve died a couple times yourself, haven’t you?”
Katrina caught her breath. Did he know, or was he being metaphorical? Dr Blacks words crept back. An advanced mystic is so free from your reality that you will have no choice but to decide they are insane.
“Maybe I have. Lets go get some noodles.”
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