Monday Morning, the De Young Museum
Work still starts at 8 o'clock, regardless of superheroing adventures
the night before. Cassie had nightmares about the vision Psynergie had
related to her, and upon waking, she found that she'd removed the amulet
at some point during the night.
Work is work. The art thefts are becoming common knowledge, and the De
Young is instituting higher security measures. Monique has taken the day
off, since she worked yesterday (Sunday), so Cassie ends up answering her
own phone when Ralph calls.
"I think I know what's going on," he says, with absolutely no
preamble. "Please gather your friends -- you know who I mean, Cassie,"
he says sternly. "This is a very important matter. I will see you
promptly at 8." He hangs up the phone again, leaving her to ponder
the receiver.
Ralph is old -- in his sixties or seventies -- and Cassie has known him
since Uncle Alex took her to dine with him when she was 18. He lives in
a huge mansion in Mill Valley, in Marin County, on a hill which has a breathtaking
view of the Golden Gate Bridge and the north part of the city. Set back
from the narrow road, the house was built in the late 1800s, in typical
Victorian gables and alcoves. Inside, the house is stuffed with carved
brass, wooden bookshelves full of antique books, and jade statues. Ralph
is a major philanthropist, and whenever he discovers any of Cassie's new
projects, he is the first to loan items or point her in the right direction.
Cassie is only vaguely aware of his last name -- Rogerson -- since he's
simply "Ralph" to those who know him. While he deals in antiquities,
he has no store, and merely locates items for wealthy individuals. He's
always had money, Uncle Alex told her, and has been able to indulge his
eccentricities. One of which is golf, as Tony discovered when you dined
there soon after you returned from Las Vegas. And now Ralph, whom no one
has never before seen do anything mundane, plays golf once a week with
Cassie's husband and uncle. Some things are too weird for words.
Getting a hold of Knightblade is not a problem, since he gave her his radio
frequency yesterday. At least, she didn't think it would be a problem,
until she begins trying to scare up a radio to call him on! Finally one
of the janitors' is procured and Cassie has to come up with a lame excuse
she's not sure he believed -- and call him.
It's several minutes before there's an answer, and the voice who responds
sounds like he's in sleep shock.
"Knightblade," Cassie begins. "This is Odyssey. I have a
lead, and I need for you to meet me at this address -- a few minutes before
8 p.m. Thanks, I'll let you get back to sleep."
I have really got to pay more attention to whom Tony and Uncle Alex
are playing golf with, Odyssey thinks. Bumping into Jack Nicholson
on the back nine is one thing, but Ralph is entirely another. If this man
was any stranger he'd be an exhibit at the museum. But, I must remember,
as Tony so often tells me, the man has a great slice and routinely scores
5 under par. I'd just feel more comfortable if I knew where Uncle Alex
met Ralph.
Getting a hold of Protector is a little trickier, but Cassie does have
Maria Chow's pager number (Odyssey had left the night before with promises
that the two of them would have lunch later in the week to discuss how
things were going.) Leaving her cellular number, the call is returned in
about fifteen minutes.
"Hiya, this is Silver Avenger Chow. I received a page from this number?"
she asks.
"Good morning Avenger this is Odyssey," Cassie says, thinking
at least I didn't call her from home. Well, I've probably blown that
secret identity. How did Superman keep this up. Hmmm...I wonder if she'd
believe me if I said I was a statue in the museum's Greek exhibit that
could only come alive for 12 hours a day. Nah, that's too weird. Then again,
who would believe that a "superheroine" had to hold down a day
job to make ends meet?
"I have a lead on some information related to the kidnappings.
A friend of the family may be able to help. I need to meet him tonight
and he invited the rest of gang along as well. Now I've talked to Knightblade,
but I don't have a number to call Protector. I was hoping you might know
how I could reach him. Also, I thought perhaps Psynergie would like to
come along. Do you know how I can contact her?"
"Hmmm. Psynergie may be a tricky one, but I'll ask Agent Kestler.
As for Protector, I know how to get in contact with him -- try this radio
frequency." You hear papers being shuffled. "Ah, here we go."
She rattles off another radio frequency.
Hey, at least I've got the radio to call on now. Why can't these
guys get a cellular phone or pager. I mean sure, Eduardo let me borrow
this radio, but I think he's kind of partial towards it. He had this kind
of hurt puppy dog look in his eyes when he gave it to me. And then he said,
"Now don't lose it, drop it or leave it in your car." You'd think
it was his baby. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to drag Tony over
to Radio Shack to pick up a radio. I wonder if they offer super hero discounts?
May we could all get new radios on a corporate plan?
"Mind telling me what's up?" she asks. "We've had people
checking out areas of nuclear protest, but we're coming up with a big zilch
on that one. No more kidnappings, thank God, but now I've got the Golden
Avenger coming for an inspection. He's just so protective of this base,"
she says.
"Well, it's kind of hard to explain," Cassie says, sighing. "I'm
not sure I understand it myself. But, I'll give this the old college try.
My husband contacted a friend of the family whose an expert in weird items.
We just wanted to see if he might have a clue as to what type of spell
would require singers or expressionist painters in it. Anyway, he told
my husband that I and my friends needed to come to his house tonight. It
was very important and then he said something about the singers chanting
their way home."
"What makes this really weird is that I never told this friend of
the family about my a job as a - oh boy, what's the term here - a costumed
adventurer. And, I haven't talked with this man since I met Knightblade,
Protector or any other superheroes. Yet, he told me to bring everyone with
me. I'm beginning to wonder if he isn't psychic."
"I trust him, and I think he may have a good idea what is going on
here. So I think it would be wise for us all to go over there. Guess it
will be kind of a reverse 'Guess who's coming to dinner,' since we all
know whose coming to dinner but we don't know much about our host."
"That is very strange," the Silver Avenger says. "But, hey,
everyone is popping out of the proverbial closet with magical things these
days, so why not another one? The more, the merrier. Anyway, I told the
Golden Avenger about what has been going on, and he's interested in investigating.
Since he can just pick his assignments -- well, not really,"
she concedes. "But close -- anyway, he wants to talk to some of you.
I told him that you were the person who seemed to have the most information,
so do you mind if he gives you a call in an hour or two? He's really a
nice guy, and he promised he wouldn't bite."
"OK, tell him to give me a call, but I'm not sure I can give him any
concrete answers. Right now I feel like the only thing that qualifies me
in all this is that I have the most theories on what it could be. If he
wants, I can meet him for lunch. I brought a sack lunch to work. Believe
me there's enough for two. (Leftovers from the restaurant.) I can take
an hour and meet him at say Golden Gate park at 1 p.m."
Of course that means either going home and changing into my costume
or just showing up in my street clothes, figuring where I'm I going to
see him again. Oh well. He probably will be too busy for lunch. I wonder
if I can get his autograph. I bet Uncle Alex would love it for the restaurants
hall of fame.
"Where in Golden Gate park?" Maria Chow asks.
"There are some tables and benches near the boating lake off MLK Jr.
Drive. How about I meet him there? Are you coming too? I've got enough
food."
"Yeah, sure," she says. "I can break away from the paperwork
for a while. Besides, I think I was elected driver." She pauses, apparently
listening to someone else. "Can we make it 1:10? I was just informed
that he didn't want to miss 'The Wild Wild West' on TNT." She snorts.
"Sure that's fine. I'll see you then."
After getting off the phone, Cassie radios Protector and then gets back
to work.
shhhhhh.......bzzk....bzzk....shhhhhh....
"Damn radio, I swear why everyone can't use a cellular phone or message
service. I wonder if this is working..."
"Yes, it is."
"Oh good, It's you, Protector. This is Odyssey. Look, I may have a
clue to help us in this case of the missing singers. A friend of the family
has asked that we all come by at 8 p.m. tonight. He has something very
important to tell us about all the mysterious happenings. He lives in this
Victorian house in Mill Valley. The address is 727 Highland Drive. Do you
think you can make it?"
"Also, I was talking with the Silver Avenger and I think we may be
going the wrong way with all these kidnappings. I think it may be two groups
involved - one that is taking the people alive and another that may not.
I think it may tie into some prophecies in the Book of Revelation and the
Rapture. But, I may be wrong. I'm pretty sure though that it's at least
two groups."
Cassie works until 12:50 p.m. then grab the lunched and walks through the
park, in her street clothes. I just think it would attract too much
attention in my costume in the park. Better make sure I take that ID badge
from the museum off, though.
Cassie watches the cars on Martin Luther King Drive pull past, wondering
a) if anyone she know can see her and b) what type of car Maria Chow drives.
B) is answered when they pull up in a Honda Del Sol, and appear to be arguing
about it.
Though she's seen the Boy Scout ads, she's seen the posters -- yes, this
man's butt really is that perky. He is wearing his uniform, minus the jacket,
and the sleeves of the uniform are short, revealing bulging biceps. "I
just can't believe you bought a Japanese car, Maria," he's saying
as he gets out.
"If you tell me it's un-American one more time," she says, "I
will hit you over the head with the car, and insurance premiums be damned.
I told you, it's made in Tennessee."
"But the profits --" he starts.
"Ah, Odyssey! I didn't recognize you at first," Maria exclaims,
cutting him off. "Glad you grabbed a table, it's really filling up
fast." The park is crowded on such a nice afternoon, even for a Monday.
The Golden Avenger shakes Cassie's hand. He's not wearing the gloves and
the gauntlets, and he has a firm handshake. Seeing one blue finger of his
gloves sticking out of one of the pockets in his pants, she tries not to
giggle.
"Well," Maria starts, "I've told him what we've talked about
already, but let's just go over it one more time. I have a tendency to
get polarized, sitting in that stuffy office."
"It's really a nice office," the Golden Avenger says gravely.
"It would be nicer if Maria ever filed her paperwork."
Maria merely rolls her eyes and grabs one of the cartons of food. "God,
Bacchus Revels is such a great place," she says. "Too bad you
miss out on it living in the Beltway, eh, DJ?"
His only answer is a stern look, though Cassie isn't fooled. Behind the
joking, there's evidence of a long-standing, comfortable working relationship.
Also, she'd already noticed that the hungrier Maria Chow gets, the more
punchy she gets.
The Golden Avenger's table manners are impressive. Something about square
eating and the military? Anyway, he swallows before asking about the situation.
"What do you think is going on, Odyssey?"
My God, the Golden Avenger is asking me what I think. Tony is not going
to believe this when I get home and tell him. First, of course, he's going
to kick me for not inviting him and second he's going to want to know every
little detail. Well, except I doubt he'd want to know how perky the Golden
Avenger's tush is.
Swallowing the pita bread she had been absently chewing on, she launched
into what she hope sounds like a thoughtful and well-reasoned explanation.
"At first I thought it was DEMON, especially when Maria showed us
those slides of the crime scenes where a pentagram was etched into the
ground. Now I'm not so sure. DEMON could still be involved, but I think
whatever is going on is bigger than just them."
"The part of me that was raised Greek Orthodox and sat through hours
of catechism is ready to believe that it's the prophecy of the Book of
Revelations, God's chosen ones are being separated out while the wicked
are being persecuted. But the scientist in me realizes this idea has a
lot of holes. Certainly, there are plenty of good people left ungathered
up in the world and there are plenty of evil people who have gone unprosecuted."
"But, what if we look at Revelations from a more secular view? It
reads more like a showdown between good and evil. The Rapture could be
the side of good marshaling its forces. In that case, perhaps what we have
with all these kidnappings - which appear to be the work of two distinct
groups - is good and evil both striving to get the people they need for
this showdown. Instead of the 144,000 saved souls, perhaps 144,000 is the
number needed to fight on good's side? Then three of our singers, who were
abducted without really any visible harm, may have been recruited to join
good's side. While the two who went missing via pentagram, may have been
abducted by the forces of evil to prevent such a marshaling?"
"Whatever the answer, I think we can safely say that something big
is moving. I hope to get some more information tonight."
The Golden Avenger listens to the explanation without interrupting , nodding
his head. "I see your point about the rapture," he says. "I
have sources I can talk to about that. Off hand, though, I'd say it's awfully
mathematical. Two, three, and five are prime numbers." He looks thoughtful
for a second, then contemplates his pita.
"From what Maria has told me," he says, "The singers were
captured, three passively, two with evidence of a struggle. Right?"
he looks over at her, and she nods. "But not so with the painters
-- no bloody footprints there. Sorry, sorry," apologizes the Golden
Avenger for his OJ joke. " Maybe there's even more than two groups.
There's been no trace of bloody struggle wherever the items have been taken,
has there?"
Maria shakes her head no.
"So," he continues, "Two singers are taken, and pentagrams
are found on scene. Three singers are taken, no pentagrams. Five painters
are taken, no pentagrams, right? Also, it seems like a pretty big assumption
that the singers were killed -- who was saying that? I can't remember.
Anyway --"
"You're forgetting something," Maria interrupts. "Last night
an, er, researcher was taken by what witnesses called an antlered man.
Allegedly she shot him, but he was unaffected. They both vanished on her
deck. AND," she adds, "Apparently Protector happened on a pentagram
in the middle of the rotunda in the Palace of Fine Arts. There were tufts
of what, when analyzed, proved to be tiger fur."
"Who is Protector?" he asks. "No offense," he turns
to Odyssey, "But you move to Washington then everyone starts going
paranormal."
"He's a brick, about Silver Avenger strength. We have a file,"
she shrugs. "I really haven't had the time to read it yet." Despite
the fact she finally had a break, the Silver Avenger still looks really
tired.
"So this Psynergie woman had a vision of three of the singers being
in one place,too," the Golden Avenger says. "And that they were
being held near a nuclear protest."
All three are silent for a few moments, the only sounds are traffic and
some kids playing frisbee. "What about dimensional teleporting?"
says the Golden Avenger. "You may or may not have heard, but my brother,
who we all had thought had died twelve years ago, recently was returned
to us. He'd been in another dimension. Maybe that's where the others are
being taken?"
"Your brother was in another dimension?" Odyssey says, startled.
How do these superheroes act so nonchalant about these things? "Has
he been offered a guest appearance on 'Sliders' yet?"
He laughs. "No, just back into the Navy. Which is kind of like 'Sliders,'
I guess." Actually, Cassie has heard something of this story. The
Golden Avenger's father was recently promoted to the Secretary of the Navy
(Admiral Alexander Johnson), and both he and his brother were there, along
with a sister and their mother, for the ceremony. The reporter on the NBC
Nightly News had mentioned that "Recently, Admiral Johnson's oldest
son, long thought dead, had been discovered." That was when Tony flipped
the t.v. off and soundly berated her for watching the news on their honeymoon.
"It's possible people are going through dimensional gates, but why
the different motif in each case? Pentagrams, masked phantoms, horned men.
It's hard to see a link between them all.
"Maybe we're over thinking this whole case, trying to find the thing
that links all these abductions together. What if nothing links them together
but the fact that they involve magic."
"It's like the world has got a bad case of magical flu and strange
things just keep popping up all over the place. I've never heard about
this many magical incidents before. It's almost as if the laws and orders
of magic are being torn apart and magic is being allowed to run rampant.
Or perhaps the barriers between dimensions have been weakened and people
and things are passing through."
Odyssey shrugs her shoulder, "I'm sorry. I don't feel like I'm giving
you anything helpful. I'm just throwing theories out in the hopes that
something will click. I've got no empirical evidence. Professor Balestien
would kill me if he knew how unscientific I was being about this. Maybe
when we get back from tonight's meeting, will have more of a clue."
"Don't knock yourself. I think you have a good idea. Maybe they aren't
related -- when Alex, my brother, was returned here --it's long story,
and I don't want to bore you with it -- it was through magic. It was around
that time when all the magical thefts and DEMON activity increased. I wonder
if something in the way he was returned had something to do with it?"
He looks thoughtful.
"Are you suggesting that perhaps his crossing the barrier between
dimension created some sort of rift that is allowing all of this to happen,"
Odyssey says, looking speculatively at him. "If that was true, wouldn't
there have been similar disturbances when he disappeared 12 years ago?
I was only 14 at the time, but I don't remember any rash of magical incidents.
Perhaps his sudden return was just another of these plethora of magical
happenings. His return didn't cause it, but he benefited by it."
"No, there were quite a few incidents around that time. I was 24,"
the Golden Avenger explains. "The government hadn't had a lot of experience
with magic at the time, and many of them were explained in different ways.
Before that, there are only reports from around the end of WW2 which indicate
there was a lot of magical activity then, too. And before that it's historical
guesswork."
Getting up from the picnic table, Odyssey tosses away the trash in a nearby
can.
"Actually, I wouldn't mind hearing more about how he was returned.
This other dimension he was in - was he the only person from our dimension
there. If he was not the only one, that would strengthen the argument that
that is where those singers ended up."
"Did he ever figure out what pulled him into that alternate dimension
in the first place?"
All of this is infinitely more interesting than going back to work and
cataloging pieces of Etruscan art. I wonder how long I can stay away from
the museum before someone notices that I'm missing?
"Ms...er, Odyssey," he says, "I must ask you to promise
that you'll never repeat this to anyone else."
Nodding acquiescence, Odyssey wonders if that applies to Tony too. I've
never kept a secret from him since we've been married.
He continues, "We aren't sure what pulled him across in the first
place, but he was on night maneuvers when in the carrier, and to radar,
he just vanished. He tells us now that he was flying, and one instant,
he's talking to the squadron, the next he can't hear a thing. The aircraft
carrier below him wasn't the same, though he was still in the Indian Ocean.
Apparently, he was in another dimension, where there were no such things
as paranormal abilities, or," he laughs, "even PRIMUS."
He drains his Diet Coke, then tosses the can about 150 feet to land in
the recycling bin. "As for how he was returned, another person from
this dimension was trapped there, about six months ago, and she happened
to meet Alex. When she was rescued, by some sort of cloaked magical figure,
he was too."
"Anybody get the name of the hood man?" I ask. "Sounds like
he may be the key."
"No, Alex wasn't able to find out anything about him. Apparently,
the individual who organized this foray into the other dimension was owed
a favor by this magical being. That's all we really know. And Alex wasn't
asking too many questions at the time."
He sighs. "We all have our theories about this. My mother's is the
best, though it's a bit grandiose. She thinks that since Alex was the only
one this happened to, it was deliberate, and that it was done to force
me into PRIMUS. Kind of like a fate thing -- I was needed to do this job."
"My theory is that someone from the future -- or whatever -- was after
me, and that they wound up getting Alex instead. I had just gotten back
to the ship from leave" he pauses. "If you ever tell another
person this I will call you a liar," he says. "Same for you,
Maria." Continuing, "I'd just returned, and was completely exhausted.
The Air Boss was someone who didn't like Dad, and took it out on us. I
was called up, right after I'd gone to sleep, and Alex went instead."
He shrugs, and laughs bitterly. "It was something we've done all our
lives. How was I supposed to know? Anyway, I was supposed to be up there,
not him."
"Why wasn't this known before?" Maria asks softly.
Oh boy, talk about your guilt trips, I think. It sounds like
he's gone through the last 12 years feeling responsible for what happened
to his brother. No wonder he throws himself into his work.
Giving the Golden Avenger what she hopes he perceives as a look of
understanding and not an attempt to pick him up, Odyssey launches into
what will either win me his support or his enmity. I hope he can take
a little helpful counseling.
"You boob, of course your mother's right," she says, slapping
him on the arm. "Ow, damn, your PR people weren't lying about that
invulnerability."
He laughs. "Glad to know the PR people are useful, after all."
"Look, if someone from the future was trying to get you and they could
teleport - do you think they would have made a mistake like that and kidnap
the wrong person? And even if they did, they could have easily teleporter
back and corrected their mistake. I think your mother was right. Your brother
was taken to another dimension to help jump start fate. And, consequently,
he was probably returned as part of that same fate. It's time for you and
your brother to move on. That's why he was returned.
"Hell, who knows, his return may be fate stepping in to get you ready
for whatever is going on here. Besides, it sounds like he made a life for
himself in this other dimension. Now he's returned and everything has worked
out."
"We think so," he says, smiling. He looks like he's about to
launch into another story, but stops himself. "I really appreciate
your time, and the lunch," he says. "I hope to return the favor
someday."
"Me,too," Maria says, cutting him off. "Lunch is on me next
time. I owe you two meals now."
The Golden Avenger continues, standing up. "Please let us know of
any future developments. Far more of these 'magical' attacks are taking
place in San Francisco than in any other city. For some reason, we seem
to be in the middle of it. You, not we," he corrects. "I still
feel like I live here."
"Probably the property taxes you're still paying. I told you to sell
me your house!" Maria interjects. He gives her a dirty look as she
continues, "He has a house in China Beach!"
"Um...how does one do this..." Odyssey says stumbling around
for the proper phrasing. "You know, Miss Manners should put out a
guide on the proper etiquette for inviting superheroes to places. I mean
what do you say? 'Hey, would you like to come along for an experience in
strangeness and a chance to meet magical beings and thwart dastardly evil
plots? That sounds like an advertisement for 'Lois and Clark.' "
"Anyway, this friend of the family told me to bring along all of my
friends and while we've only just meet, I feel like we're starting a friendship,
so I guess that counts. And who knows," she continues with a growing
smile, "Maybe it's fate. I called Maria when you were in the office.
We meet for lunch. Perhaps you are all destined to be at this meeting.
It's at 8 p.m. tonight. Do you want to go?"
Perhaps I'm being a little selfish. I know so little about superheroing
or really the full extent of my abilities with the necklace. And I really
don't know what Knightblade and Protector can do. It'd be nice to have
a superhero along who has proven abilities, crushing rocks barehanded and
all that stuff.
The Golden Avenger cocks his head to the side and thinks for a moment.
"Sure," he says. "Pick you up at 7:30? or should I meet
you there?"
"Well, I'm out," Maria says. "We've found a VIPER front
operation and the raid is tonight. But be careful," she says to Odyssey.
"How about I stop by PRIMUS HQ and pick you up? I can teleport us
there pretty quick. If I meet you at PRIMUS at 7:50 p.m. we'll have plenty
of time to spare."
And, she thinks, at least I won't be giving the Golden Avenger
a direct map to Ralph's house if Ralph didn't want the Golden Avenger to
come. Plus, who wants to deal with Bay Area traffic when they don't have
to?
Walking them back towards their car Odyssey adds, "I don't suppose
Avengers give out autographed pictures. I have this uncle, you see, and
he's a big fan. Well, he'd be thrilled if I could get an autographed pictures
of D.J. Johnson and Maria Chow...."
"I'll tell the PR people," says Maria, "and get a hold of
some of those official pictures."
"Yeah," the Golden Avenger adds, "You wouldn't want any
of her Maui photos! Scary! Oof!" Maria punches him in the stomach.
"Or any of yours either, white boy," she says, winking, and getting
into the Honda.
Scary, the Golden Avenger in swim trunks. I wonder about that tan line.
I mean he's living in D.C. now and he's always wearing that uniform that
covers everything. He's probably as white as a polar bear under that outfit.
"I'll see you at 7:50," Cassie says as she starts hoofing
it back to the office. Another day, another $127.36. I can't wait until
we've paid off Tony's car.
"OK," he calls from the passenger seat.
When Cassie gets back to her desk there's a message waiting from Tony.
"I'm sorry, Cassie," he says. "I got a call today to bid
on the new FIB building, and I have to fly to LA to pitch it. Can you drop
me off at SFO around 5:30?" He continues, apologizing for the fact
he has to leave. "But I'll be back tomorrow afternoon."