My Brother's Keeper
16 November, 2006
So that’s pretty much everything I did this week. I’m hoping next week we’ll get another chance to do some lab work. I really enjoy getting to see all these theories actually get put into practice. And Dr. Elmhurst says I have a real knack for the engineering part, In fact, he says he showed some of my test papers to the team working on the institute’s new project and they were very impressed. He said I came up with a lot of the same solutions they did! Can you believe that? I came up with the same answers as a team of real professional engineers!
I still miss you though. I’m sorry you haven’t been able to visit. And I really wish I could visit you too. That school sounds like a fun place. I’ve been telling my classmates that my sister goes to Super Hero School, but they don’t believe me. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when you show them what you can do. Maybe you can set Phillip Yang on fire or something. He’s a big jerk, and he thinks he knows everything. He keeps making fun of me for being from Baumton too. His family lives near Atlas Park. I hate him.
I miss Baumton. Even after the war, I loved going there with you. It sucks that Willy got sent to jail. I hope this Tony guy is as nice as him. Willy was kind of stupid though, so maybe you’re better off. I miss all my old friends from before the war too. All the fun times hanging out in Kevin Reichert’s basement with him and David Caulfield and Jeremy Wills. I remember we used to stay up so late having fun that you used to have to come looking for me and drag me home. I guess those days are never coming back, but I can still dream. They can’t take that away from me.
I wish you would write more. I miss hearing from you. I’ll write again next week.
Stephan
Erika put down the letter and wiped a tear from her eye. It had been almost eight months since she’d seen her little brother. He was the only family she had left, and she still felt responsible for him. His letters always seemed cheerful enough. The Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning seemed to be the perfect place for him. He was way too smart for a regular school, and putting him in college with students eight or more years older than him just seemed wrong. At HIAL, he was with kids both his own age and his own academic level. It sounded like he was getting to witness some amazing technological developments too. She knew Stephan must be loving that. He was the biggest tech nerd on the planet.
Erika started to smile, thinking about what kinds of things Stephan thought were fun. Then it struck her.
Fun?
She re-read the last paragraph. Stephan talked about the fun times in Kevin Reichert’s basement. Fun times with Kev, Big Dave, and The Germ. The three biggest bullies in his school. Yeah, Stephan had lots of fun in that basement, if it was fun to get beat up and forced to do other people’s homework. Erika had dragged him out of there, true enough, but only because he could barely walk. She’d taken care of those three jerkwads too. She hadn’t had any fire powers then, but there were lots of things you could do with a baseball bat and a complete lack of restraint.
Now why the hell would Stephan talk about that like it was a fond memory? Why would he talk about it being fun?
Maybe he was trying to tell her something…
My Brother's Keeper
Moderator: Student Council
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
My Brother's Keeper
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
17 November, 2006
“Here they come now, we’ve got them in... wait… behind us…”
Archon Freibach stared at his communicator in frustration as static replaced the voice of his Second in Command. There were heroes in his base. All over his base, it seemed, judging by the reports coming in from different sectors. He looked over his shoulder to the recently arrived shipment of new Quantum weapons and shook his head. The weapons had to be what the heroes were after. Requiem would have his head if they were lost. He was going to have to work fast if he was going to save them and himself. Turning to a pair of nearby officers, he began to bark orders.
“Bester, put your men to work loading these weapons on the truck. Moreno, take your squad out to Corridor Six and buy us some time.”
Friebach smiled as the well-trained Council troops snapped into action. The pile of crates in the storeroom began to shrink as the Quantum weapons were quickly and efficiently moved to the waiting truck. Meanwhile, Moreno’s squad of Cor Leonis elite, accompanied by a pair of the ferocious warwolves, moved into a defensive position down the hall. Corridor Six was the only passage connecting the vehicle bay to the rest of the base. There was no way for the heroes to get past Moreno without exiting the base and taking a long overland route.
Seeing that things were well in hand, the Archon moved to a nearby terminal and accessed the base mainframe. Entering his 18-digit security code, he initiated a purge of all sensitive data from the local network. “Better safe than sorry,” he muttered to himself. The program was only 12% complete when the sound of gunfire erupted from the corridor. Grabbing a grenade launcher from a nearby weapon rack, Freibach moved to a position where he could observe the firefight and possibly lend support. Archon Bester was already there with a pair of marksman.
“I’ve ordered the rest of my men to keep loading the truck,” the junior officer reported, “but they all have their weapons at hand.” Freibach nodded in approval before turning his attention to the battle down the corridor.
A young girl in green and black, barely visible within a circle of vicious flame, charged headlong into Moreno’s line. Within seconds she was swarmed by a half dozen genetically engineered super soldiers. Freibach almost laughed as the two warwolves moved in for the kill. “So much for this hero,” he chuckled. But his mirth turned to horror seconds later as a gigantic fireball engulfed the entire melee. When it died down, only the girl was left standing, throwing a “thumbs up” to a grinning boy in a ridiculous looking red and white costume hovering six feet above her.
He couldn’t be sure, but the Base Commander thought he heard a cheerful voice cry out “Kerplow!” right before the fireball struck.
Halfway down the corridor, Archon Moreno raised his weapon and sighted in on the bizarre boy. That’s when a third hero, this one a pale white-haired girl in purple and powder blue, quickly flew in and blasted the Council officer with bolts of energy from her strangely glowing eyes. Recognizing the distinctive energy signature of a Peacebringer, Archon Freibach turned his attention to Bester’s squad, intending to order them to break out some of the Quantum weapons. The order died on his lips.
The vehicle bay was a scene of utter chaos, as Bester’s men fought each other with savage abandon. The few not fighting were instead cowering in fear from some unseen horror. Blaster fire criss-crossed the room almost randomly, as the once disciplined Council soldiers degenerated into a wild mob of confused and frightened simpletons. A stray shot nearly took Freibach’s head off before he furiously turned on his subordinate.
“What the hell is going on here?” he shouted. “Bester… control your men, damn it!”
“Die, Hero!” Archon Bester screamed in reply as he slammed his boot into Freibach’s face with a perfectly executed Crane Kick.
As the Base Commander flew backwards from the impact, he thought he could hear laughing from only a few feet away. Climbing back to his feet, Freibach shook his head to clear it, then looked around for the source of the mocking laughter. Just for a second he saw a teenage boy in a blue costume, making odd mystical gestures in the direction of Bester’s crazed squad. He appeared to have a tail, of all things. Before the Archon could raise his weapon, the strange boy disappeared.
Then the other three heroes arrived and Freibach’s day went from bad to worse.
“Here they come now, we’ve got them in... wait… behind us…”
Archon Freibach stared at his communicator in frustration as static replaced the voice of his Second in Command. There were heroes in his base. All over his base, it seemed, judging by the reports coming in from different sectors. He looked over his shoulder to the recently arrived shipment of new Quantum weapons and shook his head. The weapons had to be what the heroes were after. Requiem would have his head if they were lost. He was going to have to work fast if he was going to save them and himself. Turning to a pair of nearby officers, he began to bark orders.
“Bester, put your men to work loading these weapons on the truck. Moreno, take your squad out to Corridor Six and buy us some time.”
Friebach smiled as the well-trained Council troops snapped into action. The pile of crates in the storeroom began to shrink as the Quantum weapons were quickly and efficiently moved to the waiting truck. Meanwhile, Moreno’s squad of Cor Leonis elite, accompanied by a pair of the ferocious warwolves, moved into a defensive position down the hall. Corridor Six was the only passage connecting the vehicle bay to the rest of the base. There was no way for the heroes to get past Moreno without exiting the base and taking a long overland route.
Seeing that things were well in hand, the Archon moved to a nearby terminal and accessed the base mainframe. Entering his 18-digit security code, he initiated a purge of all sensitive data from the local network. “Better safe than sorry,” he muttered to himself. The program was only 12% complete when the sound of gunfire erupted from the corridor. Grabbing a grenade launcher from a nearby weapon rack, Freibach moved to a position where he could observe the firefight and possibly lend support. Archon Bester was already there with a pair of marksman.
“I’ve ordered the rest of my men to keep loading the truck,” the junior officer reported, “but they all have their weapons at hand.” Freibach nodded in approval before turning his attention to the battle down the corridor.
A young girl in green and black, barely visible within a circle of vicious flame, charged headlong into Moreno’s line. Within seconds she was swarmed by a half dozen genetically engineered super soldiers. Freibach almost laughed as the two warwolves moved in for the kill. “So much for this hero,” he chuckled. But his mirth turned to horror seconds later as a gigantic fireball engulfed the entire melee. When it died down, only the girl was left standing, throwing a “thumbs up” to a grinning boy in a ridiculous looking red and white costume hovering six feet above her.
He couldn’t be sure, but the Base Commander thought he heard a cheerful voice cry out “Kerplow!” right before the fireball struck.
Halfway down the corridor, Archon Moreno raised his weapon and sighted in on the bizarre boy. That’s when a third hero, this one a pale white-haired girl in purple and powder blue, quickly flew in and blasted the Council officer with bolts of energy from her strangely glowing eyes. Recognizing the distinctive energy signature of a Peacebringer, Archon Freibach turned his attention to Bester’s squad, intending to order them to break out some of the Quantum weapons. The order died on his lips.
The vehicle bay was a scene of utter chaos, as Bester’s men fought each other with savage abandon. The few not fighting were instead cowering in fear from some unseen horror. Blaster fire criss-crossed the room almost randomly, as the once disciplined Council soldiers degenerated into a wild mob of confused and frightened simpletons. A stray shot nearly took Freibach’s head off before he furiously turned on his subordinate.
“What the hell is going on here?” he shouted. “Bester… control your men, damn it!”
“Die, Hero!” Archon Bester screamed in reply as he slammed his boot into Freibach’s face with a perfectly executed Crane Kick.
As the Base Commander flew backwards from the impact, he thought he could hear laughing from only a few feet away. Climbing back to his feet, Freibach shook his head to clear it, then looked around for the source of the mocking laughter. Just for a second he saw a teenage boy in a blue costume, making odd mystical gestures in the direction of Bester’s crazed squad. He appeared to have a tail, of all things. Before the Archon could raise his weapon, the strange boy disappeared.
Then the other three heroes arrived and Freibach’s day went from bad to worse.
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
17 November, 2006
The program was 36% complete, and still running. Valuable data on Council activities, such as the point of origin for the shipment of new Quantum weapons, was vanishing beyond all hope of recovery. The white haired girl known as Sushi Q stared at the monitor screen in frustration and bit back a curse. She was an expert in Council Operating Systems, part of her training as an associate Peacebringer, but there was little she could do from this terminal. All of the controls appeared to have been locked out. Nothing was responding. She gave the machine a small kick before turning to her friends.
Barjnal was bouncing up and down by the half-loaded truck, juggling a pair of tiny fire balls. He almost dropped one as he caught Sushi’s glance and paused to wave. “No help there,” she thought, but she smiled and waved back anyway. Barjnal’s enthusiasm and simple joy for life were always a comfort. No matter how dire the situation, he could always be counted on to bring a positive outlook. “Unlike certain other people,” she muttered, her gaze drifting towards her other two friends.
Erika was kneeling by the unconscious Base Commander, searching his uniform pockets for codebooks or other valuable clues. She’d been unusually pensive today, at least when she wasn’t caught up in the thrill of the fighting. Sushi could tell something was on the fiery mutant’s mind, but was reluctant to ask about it. Erika was prickly at the best of times, and their relationship was still somewhat strained. A few feet further away, Timothy stood with his arms crossed watching the others with a bored look on his face. Suddenly that look was replaced with a smirk as he caught Erika’s eye.
“What’cha doing, Outcast,” he asked, “looking for his wallet?”
“That’s right, Timmsy,” the former gang member replied. “I need some extra green so I can buy you a new personality.”
“It’s Timothy, not Timmsy, and I should think you’d want to get one for yourself first.” There was defiance in the young magician’s voice, but he backed up a step when Erika climbed to her feet and fixed him with a hostile stare.
“Maybe I can get you a new face while I’m at it,” she said, very slowly. Smoke began to waft from her tightly clenched fists, and there was a dangerous glint in her eye. Timothy took another step backwards. He looked nervous, but behind his back his fingers were already beginning to trace the gestures of some kind of spell. Across the room, Barjnal let his fireballs flicker out as he looked at his two friends in concern. Still watching from the terminal, Sushi knew she had to defuse the situation quickly.
“Umm guys… can I get a little help here,” she called out. “I can’t seem to stop this program. The controls aren’t working.”
The distraction succeeded, as Erika unclenched her fists and walked over to the terminal without another word. Soon the two girls were fiddling with the machine, trying in vain to get any kind of result. Three minutes later, the program status bar was up to 42% and Erika’s frustration level was growing even faster.
“Do you two need any help?” Barjnal asked cheerfully.
“They need all kinds of help,” Timothy chipped in with a chuckle. A moment later his expression changed to one of embarrassment as he caught a disapproving frown from Barjnal. Giving his friend an apologetic shrug, Timothy walked over and picked up a green plastic card from the ground near the terminal. “I uh… saw the Archon pull this out of the terminal just before you guys attacked.”
“Oh, that’s got to be it!” Sushi cried, delightedly grabbing the card and inserting it into a slot on the machine. Seconds later, a menu popped up and the young Peacebringer quickly shut down the system purge at 46%. Scanning the file menu, she ascertained that all of the files her superiors were interested in were still on the system. After initiating a complete file download to a portable hard drive, she turned to her friends with a big smile. “We did it! Everything I need is right here.”
“Yay!” shouted Barjnal, jumping up and down with genuine happiness.
“Glad to help, Sushi,” Erika said quietly without looking up.
“Yeah, uh, no problem,” said Timothy.
“You were a big help, Timothy.” Sushi gave the brown haired boy a big hug. “I’ll tell Sunstorm to make sure this counts against your community service hours like usual.”
“Umm… thanks,” he muttered, clearly embarrassed by the physical contact. He stole a glance at Barjnal, and then his voice picked up. “That’ll only leave me with about 120 hours to go. At this rate, I’ll be doing these missions ‘til my hair turns grey.” Sushi and Barj both laughed at the comment, but Erika just stared blankly at him for a moment.
“How did you get so many hours?” she asked finally.
“The uh… judge doesn’t seem to like me,” he replied evasively.
“Oh never mind that,” Sushi interrupted. “Let’s take care of these weapons and get out of here.”
“I’m on it!” Barjnal volunteered with a big smile, massive flames beginning to build in his hands.
“NO BARJ!” the other three cried in unison.
The program was 36% complete, and still running. Valuable data on Council activities, such as the point of origin for the shipment of new Quantum weapons, was vanishing beyond all hope of recovery. The white haired girl known as Sushi Q stared at the monitor screen in frustration and bit back a curse. She was an expert in Council Operating Systems, part of her training as an associate Peacebringer, but there was little she could do from this terminal. All of the controls appeared to have been locked out. Nothing was responding. She gave the machine a small kick before turning to her friends.
Barjnal was bouncing up and down by the half-loaded truck, juggling a pair of tiny fire balls. He almost dropped one as he caught Sushi’s glance and paused to wave. “No help there,” she thought, but she smiled and waved back anyway. Barjnal’s enthusiasm and simple joy for life were always a comfort. No matter how dire the situation, he could always be counted on to bring a positive outlook. “Unlike certain other people,” she muttered, her gaze drifting towards her other two friends.
Erika was kneeling by the unconscious Base Commander, searching his uniform pockets for codebooks or other valuable clues. She’d been unusually pensive today, at least when she wasn’t caught up in the thrill of the fighting. Sushi could tell something was on the fiery mutant’s mind, but was reluctant to ask about it. Erika was prickly at the best of times, and their relationship was still somewhat strained. A few feet further away, Timothy stood with his arms crossed watching the others with a bored look on his face. Suddenly that look was replaced with a smirk as he caught Erika’s eye.
“What’cha doing, Outcast,” he asked, “looking for his wallet?”
“That’s right, Timmsy,” the former gang member replied. “I need some extra green so I can buy you a new personality.”
“It’s Timothy, not Timmsy, and I should think you’d want to get one for yourself first.” There was defiance in the young magician’s voice, but he backed up a step when Erika climbed to her feet and fixed him with a hostile stare.
“Maybe I can get you a new face while I’m at it,” she said, very slowly. Smoke began to waft from her tightly clenched fists, and there was a dangerous glint in her eye. Timothy took another step backwards. He looked nervous, but behind his back his fingers were already beginning to trace the gestures of some kind of spell. Across the room, Barjnal let his fireballs flicker out as he looked at his two friends in concern. Still watching from the terminal, Sushi knew she had to defuse the situation quickly.
“Umm guys… can I get a little help here,” she called out. “I can’t seem to stop this program. The controls aren’t working.”
The distraction succeeded, as Erika unclenched her fists and walked over to the terminal without another word. Soon the two girls were fiddling with the machine, trying in vain to get any kind of result. Three minutes later, the program status bar was up to 42% and Erika’s frustration level was growing even faster.
“Do you two need any help?” Barjnal asked cheerfully.
“They need all kinds of help,” Timothy chipped in with a chuckle. A moment later his expression changed to one of embarrassment as he caught a disapproving frown from Barjnal. Giving his friend an apologetic shrug, Timothy walked over and picked up a green plastic card from the ground near the terminal. “I uh… saw the Archon pull this out of the terminal just before you guys attacked.”
“Oh, that’s got to be it!” Sushi cried, delightedly grabbing the card and inserting it into a slot on the machine. Seconds later, a menu popped up and the young Peacebringer quickly shut down the system purge at 46%. Scanning the file menu, she ascertained that all of the files her superiors were interested in were still on the system. After initiating a complete file download to a portable hard drive, she turned to her friends with a big smile. “We did it! Everything I need is right here.”
“Yay!” shouted Barjnal, jumping up and down with genuine happiness.
“Glad to help, Sushi,” Erika said quietly without looking up.
“Yeah, uh, no problem,” said Timothy.
“You were a big help, Timothy.” Sushi gave the brown haired boy a big hug. “I’ll tell Sunstorm to make sure this counts against your community service hours like usual.”
“Umm… thanks,” he muttered, clearly embarrassed by the physical contact. He stole a glance at Barjnal, and then his voice picked up. “That’ll only leave me with about 120 hours to go. At this rate, I’ll be doing these missions ‘til my hair turns grey.” Sushi and Barj both laughed at the comment, but Erika just stared blankly at him for a moment.
“How did you get so many hours?” she asked finally.
“The uh… judge doesn’t seem to like me,” he replied evasively.
“Oh never mind that,” Sushi interrupted. “Let’s take care of these weapons and get out of here.”
“I’m on it!” Barjnal volunteered with a big smile, massive flames beginning to build in his hands.
“NO BARJ!” the other three cried in unison.
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
20 November, 2006
"Timothy Bastian. You're rather late."
Timothy swiveled on his feet and scanned through the crowded area, looking for the source of Regina Wolston's voice. He spotted her several desks away, giving him a rather dry frown. He negotiated his way through to the chair in front of her desk.
"It's not my fault you didn't tell me you were moving offices. I showed up on time, but you weren't where you were supposed to be." Timothy plopped himself down irritably into the seat.
"I spoke with your mother about this several days ago, Timothy. The city is renovating the building my office is in, so we've all been shuffled off into this place for the time being." Regina frowned as a nearby teenager busted out screaming at his social worker. "None of us are happy about it, either, and it's not my fault you don't listen to your mother. My next appointment will be here soon, so let's get going. Anything I need to know about from your end?"
Grimacing, Timothy handed her some paperwork. "Nothing bad. Here's my time sheets for my community service."
She took them and started tapping the numbers into her computer while she spoke. "You're doing a pretty good job staying out of trouble on the streets. Too bad you still won't give Saint Joe's a real chance. I'm told you're learning well, but you're still a pain in the ass to everyone who deals with you. At least you finally stopped provoking your judge. With all the additional hours he's given you for your attitude, I thought you'd never get through your community service. Speaking of which, you're actually 38 hours over what you need. Imagine that." Her wry voice implied strongly that she wasn't at all surprised that Timothy had gone over the hours he needed.
She opened a drawer and pulled out a form, then looked up at someone standing behind Timothy. "He won't be much longer, he just has to sign some paperwork. Thanks for waiting patiently. I'm glad to see some people manage to show up on time." She gave Timothy a pointed glance, then started scribbling on the form.
Timothy turned to see who she was talking to and promptly wished he hadn't. Erika Raeder gave him a pleasantly evil smile as he felt his stomach fall through the floor.
"Okay Timothy, just sign this form and your community service sentence is officially over."
"Timothy Bastian. You're rather late."
Timothy swiveled on his feet and scanned through the crowded area, looking for the source of Regina Wolston's voice. He spotted her several desks away, giving him a rather dry frown. He negotiated his way through to the chair in front of her desk.
"It's not my fault you didn't tell me you were moving offices. I showed up on time, but you weren't where you were supposed to be." Timothy plopped himself down irritably into the seat.
"I spoke with your mother about this several days ago, Timothy. The city is renovating the building my office is in, so we've all been shuffled off into this place for the time being." Regina frowned as a nearby teenager busted out screaming at his social worker. "None of us are happy about it, either, and it's not my fault you don't listen to your mother. My next appointment will be here soon, so let's get going. Anything I need to know about from your end?"
Grimacing, Timothy handed her some paperwork. "Nothing bad. Here's my time sheets for my community service."
She took them and started tapping the numbers into her computer while she spoke. "You're doing a pretty good job staying out of trouble on the streets. Too bad you still won't give Saint Joe's a real chance. I'm told you're learning well, but you're still a pain in the ass to everyone who deals with you. At least you finally stopped provoking your judge. With all the additional hours he's given you for your attitude, I thought you'd never get through your community service. Speaking of which, you're actually 38 hours over what you need. Imagine that." Her wry voice implied strongly that she wasn't at all surprised that Timothy had gone over the hours he needed.
She opened a drawer and pulled out a form, then looked up at someone standing behind Timothy. "He won't be much longer, he just has to sign some paperwork. Thanks for waiting patiently. I'm glad to see some people manage to show up on time." She gave Timothy a pointed glance, then started scribbling on the form.
Timothy turned to see who she was talking to and promptly wished he hadn't. Erika Raeder gave him a pleasantly evil smile as he felt his stomach fall through the floor.
"Okay Timothy, just sign this form and your community service sentence is officially over."
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
20 November, 2006
Erika squinted her eyes momentarily as she emerged from the office building into the bright early afternoon sun of Steel Canyon. Throngs of people moved all around her, filling the air with the sounds of a busy city. With the buzzing of office drones flitting about, running errands of perceived vital importance, or simply trying to enjoy their all too brief lunch breaks. The young mutant, used to city life, ignored the chaos. Instead, she scanned the area around the nearby fountains and quickly found the person she knew would be waiting.
“Hello Timothy,” she said brightly, approaching her sour-faced classmate. “So nice of you to wait.”
“It's about time,” the boy replied irritably, rising to his feet. “That must have been the longest meeting ever.”
“Oh, but Ms. Wolston was telling me all about you and how well you’ve been doing.” Erika had no trouble putting on the fake smile and cheerful tone. She was enjoying his irritation, and the polite act left him no opening to channel his frustration into a proper argument. It was really quite satisfying. She even reached out and patted him on the cheek before turning and heading south down the busy street. Timothy scowled at the contact, taking a few seconds to consider his approach before following.
“So what did she tell you about... you know...”
“Congratulations on completing your Community Service hours, Timothy!” she cut him off, going right to the meat of the matter. The boy’s eyes were all but shooting daggers. After a moment, he cleared his throat and decided to alter tactics.
“Well, thanks,” he spoke quietly. “But...”
Once again, Erika cut him off to throw out another ace. “Oh, but weren’t you just telling me the other day that you had over a hundred hours left? Wow, you must have really worked your butt off this weekend!”
“Clearly, you must have heard me wrong,” he said evasively, casually.
“No, I’m pretty sure you said a hundred and twenty hours. You’re always going on about them. But for sure I remember the number this time, and Sushi and Barj heard you too. Oh hey, does Barj know? He’ll be thrilled for you!”
“Dammit Erika, just what the hell do you want!?” he finally exploded, tired of letting Erika tease him along so deftly, letting his irritation get the better of him. This was exactly what the girl had wanted, and she should have been pleased, but instead she stared blankly down the street, barely noticing Timothy’s outburst.
There, parked in front of Sub-genetics, was a truck with the logo of the Ferrat-Hollindale corporation, the primary underwriters for the Hollindale Institute of Advanced Learning. Erika looked at it mutely, unexplainable emotion building up inside her, thinking of her brother Stephan. Thinking of his last letter and his cryptic plea for help. Beside her, Timothy was rambling on, backtracking, saying something about how he wanted to share the good news with Barj himself and not to spoil the surprise by telling anyone. She didn’t care about needling him anymore. She needed to get her brother back. Channeling her emotion into determination, she turned to her companion and cut him off suddenly with a direct question.
“Timothy, can you drive?”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
22 November, 2006
Special Agent Prchowski had worked the security checkpoint at Independence North for almost three years. It was a dull posting really, just an endless series of trucks carrying cargo from the docks out of the city to destinations throughout the northeast. Smuggling was the prime focus for the security team here, so the odd small vehicle traffic that came through rarely got much scrutiny. If Prchowski noticed anything unusual about the bickering young couple in the shabby looking Dodge Stratus, he didn’t act on it. And if their identity papers had that look about them, the look of the papers the Frost family whipped up for their flunkies, well… there was that boat he was saving up for, and the extra money he received every month for not noticing certain things was more than welcome. He waved them through and turned his attention to the next vehicle in the line.
Ten minutes and five miles later, Erika breathed a sigh of relief as she stuffed the forged identity papers back into her purse. It had been hard to swallow her Outcast pride and accept help from her west side connections, but this was for Stephan. She had only to look to her left to be reminded of just how far she would reach out to see her brother again.
“You remember the plan, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” Timothy replied tersely, his concentration on the road ahead.
Erika squinted her eyes momentarily as she emerged from the office building into the bright early afternoon sun of Steel Canyon. Throngs of people moved all around her, filling the air with the sounds of a busy city. With the buzzing of office drones flitting about, running errands of perceived vital importance, or simply trying to enjoy their all too brief lunch breaks. The young mutant, used to city life, ignored the chaos. Instead, she scanned the area around the nearby fountains and quickly found the person she knew would be waiting.
“Hello Timothy,” she said brightly, approaching her sour-faced classmate. “So nice of you to wait.”
“It's about time,” the boy replied irritably, rising to his feet. “That must have been the longest meeting ever.”
“Oh, but Ms. Wolston was telling me all about you and how well you’ve been doing.” Erika had no trouble putting on the fake smile and cheerful tone. She was enjoying his irritation, and the polite act left him no opening to channel his frustration into a proper argument. It was really quite satisfying. She even reached out and patted him on the cheek before turning and heading south down the busy street. Timothy scowled at the contact, taking a few seconds to consider his approach before following.
“So what did she tell you about... you know...”
“Congratulations on completing your Community Service hours, Timothy!” she cut him off, going right to the meat of the matter. The boy’s eyes were all but shooting daggers. After a moment, he cleared his throat and decided to alter tactics.
“Well, thanks,” he spoke quietly. “But...”
Once again, Erika cut him off to throw out another ace. “Oh, but weren’t you just telling me the other day that you had over a hundred hours left? Wow, you must have really worked your butt off this weekend!”
“Clearly, you must have heard me wrong,” he said evasively, casually.
“No, I’m pretty sure you said a hundred and twenty hours. You’re always going on about them. But for sure I remember the number this time, and Sushi and Barj heard you too. Oh hey, does Barj know? He’ll be thrilled for you!”
“Dammit Erika, just what the hell do you want!?” he finally exploded, tired of letting Erika tease him along so deftly, letting his irritation get the better of him. This was exactly what the girl had wanted, and she should have been pleased, but instead she stared blankly down the street, barely noticing Timothy’s outburst.
There, parked in front of Sub-genetics, was a truck with the logo of the Ferrat-Hollindale corporation, the primary underwriters for the Hollindale Institute of Advanced Learning. Erika looked at it mutely, unexplainable emotion building up inside her, thinking of her brother Stephan. Thinking of his last letter and his cryptic plea for help. Beside her, Timothy was rambling on, backtracking, saying something about how he wanted to share the good news with Barj himself and not to spoil the surprise by telling anyone. She didn’t care about needling him anymore. She needed to get her brother back. Channeling her emotion into determination, she turned to her companion and cut him off suddenly with a direct question.
“Timothy, can you drive?”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
22 November, 2006
Special Agent Prchowski had worked the security checkpoint at Independence North for almost three years. It was a dull posting really, just an endless series of trucks carrying cargo from the docks out of the city to destinations throughout the northeast. Smuggling was the prime focus for the security team here, so the odd small vehicle traffic that came through rarely got much scrutiny. If Prchowski noticed anything unusual about the bickering young couple in the shabby looking Dodge Stratus, he didn’t act on it. And if their identity papers had that look about them, the look of the papers the Frost family whipped up for their flunkies, well… there was that boat he was saving up for, and the extra money he received every month for not noticing certain things was more than welcome. He waved them through and turned his attention to the next vehicle in the line.
Ten minutes and five miles later, Erika breathed a sigh of relief as she stuffed the forged identity papers back into her purse. It had been hard to swallow her Outcast pride and accept help from her west side connections, but this was for Stephan. She had only to look to her left to be reminded of just how far she would reach out to see her brother again.
“You remember the plan, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” Timothy replied tersely, his concentration on the road ahead.
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
22 November, 2006
“Thank you again for seeing us without an appointment, Mister Landseer.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right, Mrs. Toledo. The holidays are actually a quiet time for my department. And please, call me Martin.” The man behind a desk flashed a charming smile, but still thought he detected a momentary flash of annoyance from the homely young woman when he said her name. He’d also observed the hostile glances she occasionally shot at her husband in the next chair. For his part, Mister Toledo seemed completely disinterested in the conversation at hand, instead looking around the room with a bored expression plain on his ruggedly handsome face. Even someone without Landseer’s years of experience in public relations would have seen the signs of a marriage in trouble.
Of course, dim prospects for the Toledo’s marriage made them only more interesting to the Admissions Officer for the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning.
“Thank you, Martin,” the woman replied with a nervous smile. “We’re just so excited about the possibility of getting our little… Wilbert… enrolled in your school. He’s just too smart for regular schools. I can see he’s getting frustrated. And he’s so shy, I don’t think he’d fit in if we skipped him ahead a few grades.”
Martin noticed the little eye roll when she spoke her son’s name. ‘Probably resents having a child so much smarter than she is’ he thought, perhaps a little unkindly. Still, if the parents didn’t love their son the way they should, that was all the better for H.I.A.L. Even more so if the boy resented it.
“Based on what I see in these educational records,” Landseer indicated a folder on his desk, “your Wilbert will make a fine addition to our Special Academic Program.” Beneath his practiced demeanor, Martin was concealing an enthusiasm bordering on avarice. If these records were accurate, then Wilbert Toledo was as big a find as Therese Maldonado or Stephan Raeder.
“Oh, we’re both very proud of him, aren’t we dear?” The woman looked at her husband for confirmation, which seemed to catch him by surprise.
“What? Oh uhh… yes. Of course. He’s… very smart. Bertha and I are very proud of him.” This response earned him another dirty look from his wife, who was clearly annoyed with his lack of attention. Martin cut in quickly with another question to prevent a marital argument from breaking out in his office.
“May I ask how you two found out about our program?” He directed the question to Bertha, hoping to distract her from whatever problem she was having with her husband.
“Oh.. umm.. .from the Yangs,” she answered after a brief hesitation. “David and Cynthia Yang from Paragon City. Their son Phillip is enrolled here.”
Martin blinked. They knew the Yangs? The idea that a sophisticated socialite like Cynthia Yang might number a frumpy dullard like Bertha Toledo among her acquaintances was simply mind-boggling. It was more likely they had some kind of business relationship. It occurred to Martin that he didn’t know what the husband did for a living. Stealing a glance at the application form he was surprised to learn that Mister Toledo was a gynecologist.
“Yes of course. Phillip is a brilliant student. We’re very happy to have him. Perhaps he and Wilbert will be classmates soon.”
“That would be wonderful. Phillip is such a nice boy.” Bertha put too much emphasis on the compliment, making it painfully clear she thought the Yang child was anything but. Based on what Landseer knew of young Phillip, it was enough to convince him that she really did know the Yang family.
“Well, how about I give you two a tour of the facility?”
“Yes!” Bertha exclaimed with surprising enthusiasm. She even managed a smile for her husband as she turned to him and said “We’d love that, wouldn’t we Barnie?”
With a look of pure venomous hatred, the first emotion Martin had seen from him all day, the young man delivered a sharp reply.
“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Barnard…”
“Thank you again for seeing us without an appointment, Mister Landseer.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right, Mrs. Toledo. The holidays are actually a quiet time for my department. And please, call me Martin.” The man behind a desk flashed a charming smile, but still thought he detected a momentary flash of annoyance from the homely young woman when he said her name. He’d also observed the hostile glances she occasionally shot at her husband in the next chair. For his part, Mister Toledo seemed completely disinterested in the conversation at hand, instead looking around the room with a bored expression plain on his ruggedly handsome face. Even someone without Landseer’s years of experience in public relations would have seen the signs of a marriage in trouble.
Of course, dim prospects for the Toledo’s marriage made them only more interesting to the Admissions Officer for the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning.
“Thank you, Martin,” the woman replied with a nervous smile. “We’re just so excited about the possibility of getting our little… Wilbert… enrolled in your school. He’s just too smart for regular schools. I can see he’s getting frustrated. And he’s so shy, I don’t think he’d fit in if we skipped him ahead a few grades.”
Martin noticed the little eye roll when she spoke her son’s name. ‘Probably resents having a child so much smarter than she is’ he thought, perhaps a little unkindly. Still, if the parents didn’t love their son the way they should, that was all the better for H.I.A.L. Even more so if the boy resented it.
“Based on what I see in these educational records,” Landseer indicated a folder on his desk, “your Wilbert will make a fine addition to our Special Academic Program.” Beneath his practiced demeanor, Martin was concealing an enthusiasm bordering on avarice. If these records were accurate, then Wilbert Toledo was as big a find as Therese Maldonado or Stephan Raeder.
“Oh, we’re both very proud of him, aren’t we dear?” The woman looked at her husband for confirmation, which seemed to catch him by surprise.
“What? Oh uhh… yes. Of course. He’s… very smart. Bertha and I are very proud of him.” This response earned him another dirty look from his wife, who was clearly annoyed with his lack of attention. Martin cut in quickly with another question to prevent a marital argument from breaking out in his office.
“May I ask how you two found out about our program?” He directed the question to Bertha, hoping to distract her from whatever problem she was having with her husband.
“Oh.. umm.. .from the Yangs,” she answered after a brief hesitation. “David and Cynthia Yang from Paragon City. Their son Phillip is enrolled here.”
Martin blinked. They knew the Yangs? The idea that a sophisticated socialite like Cynthia Yang might number a frumpy dullard like Bertha Toledo among her acquaintances was simply mind-boggling. It was more likely they had some kind of business relationship. It occurred to Martin that he didn’t know what the husband did for a living. Stealing a glance at the application form he was surprised to learn that Mister Toledo was a gynecologist.
“Yes of course. Phillip is a brilliant student. We’re very happy to have him. Perhaps he and Wilbert will be classmates soon.”
“That would be wonderful. Phillip is such a nice boy.” Bertha put too much emphasis on the compliment, making it painfully clear she thought the Yang child was anything but. Based on what Landseer knew of young Phillip, it was enough to convince him that she really did know the Yang family.
“Well, how about I give you two a tour of the facility?”
“Yes!” Bertha exclaimed with surprising enthusiasm. She even managed a smile for her husband as she turned to him and said “We’d love that, wouldn’t we Barnie?”
With a look of pure venomous hatred, the first emotion Martin had seen from him all day, the young man delivered a sharp reply.
“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Barnard…”
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
22 November, 2006
It took every ounce of willpower Erika possessed to restrain herself from breaking into a run as the unsuspecting Admissions Officer led them through the hallways of the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning. The anticipation of seeing her brother in the flesh for the first time in over six months was reaching a fever pitch, and the painfully slow pace they were making was like oil on a fire. It seemed like they couldn’t go more than twenty feet at a time without having to stop for some kind of security check, and the whole time she was forced to listen to Landseer droning on about the wondrous things H.I.A.L. was accomplishing in the amazing fields of quantum diversification recombobulating thingamawhatzit theory and hybrid fuel-cell energy transfer co-dependant gadgumacation restructuring. There was also something about reverse-engineering of “found technologies” that sent a weird chill up her spine for some reason, but she figured that for just nerves.
She was still somewhat amazed that they’d made it inside. Knowing ahead of time that the Institute was a top-secret research centre for government projects had not adequately prepared her for just what kind of fortress the place would prove to be. The main building was a massive solid block that made the Zig look like a garden gazebo. Its plain geometric shape broken only by towers festooned with what appeared to be sensor dishes and missile launchers. In some ways it reminded her of something from one of those science-fiction movies her brother used to watch, but in other ways there was something very… industrial… about it. It was not sleek or clean or futuristic looking at all. Just solid. Solid and very, very, very unfriendly.
To even get to the main building, they’d had to cross a compound roughly the size of her old home of Baumton, ringed with massive War Walls no less. She’d never expected to see those outside of Paragon City. The massive inner “courtyard” was patrolled by squads of soldiers belonging to the U.S. Army. The entire facilty was surrounded on three sides by a combined army and air-force base, and the rumble of armoured vehicles and the roar of jet-fighters taking off and landing had made it difficult to talk as they’d made their way across the compound from the reception building.
Erika didn’t want to admit it, but it was mostly thanks to Timothy that they’d made it this far. Not only was he disguising their appearance with an elaborate illusion, he’d also put together all the falsified documentation they’d provided to Landseer. And it was only due to his fast-talking at the entrance that they’d even made it to Landseer’s office in the first place. Of course, once they sat down and handed over the papers, he’d zoned out and left it up to her to do the rest.
“Pfft… typical boy,” she thought testily. “No staying power. Can’t see the job through. Put ‘em in a chair, and all they want to do is take a nap.” Erika had no idea that during the interview, Timothy had been using his abilities to cloud the H.I.A.L. representative’s mind and allay any doubts or suspicions that might have cropped up. What she saw as inattention was actually a cover for intense concentration. Not knowing this, and having a number of other reasons to be on edge, Erika looked over at her schoolmate and began to scowl.
“If you two will wait here a moment,” Martin Landseer’s voice cut into her growing irritation, “I just need to see if your Class Seven visitor passes are ready.” He pointed at the large plastic cards they already wore on cords around their necks. “Those Class Three passes won’t get you into the next section.” With that, he left them in an open space that reminded Erika of nothing so much as a waiting area in a hospital and disappeared into a nearby office. There were a number of staff in the ubiquitous white lab coats passing by, and at least five armed security guards in view down the three adjoining hallways, but for the moment, no one was close enough to hear them speak. Erika did not let the opportunity go to waste.
“What the hell were you doing back there? Daydreaming?” She pitched the question as loud as she dared, in a kind of shout-whisper. Timothy looked around carefully before replying, the features on his disguised face hardening into the cold expression he usually wore around his fiery classmate.
“If you must know, I was concentrating. Our credentials were very thin, and if he got the least bit suspic…” Erika cut him off before he could get any further.
“If our credentials are no good, that’s your fault. You made the damn things,” she glowered. “And what the hell kind of a name is Bertha?”
“Would you have preferred Petunia?”
“Don’t get smart with me, you little snot.” Erika looked down to try to calm herself, but the sight of her frumpy disguise set her off again. “And what’s with this illusion? I don’t think you could have made me any uglier if you were trying.” Her eyebrows raised in sudden suspicion. “You were trying, weren’t you? You did this on purpose.” It was both question and accusation.
“You were supposed to look like a mother. Not a supermodel.”
“Oh yeah? Well you didn’t have any problem making yourself look like Russell Crowe, did you, Doctor Toledo?” She spat out the title mockingly. “And speaking of that, what the hell is up with you being a…”
A discreet cough cut her short.
“Is there some problem, Mrs. Toledo?” asked the returning Landseer, a pair of plastic pass cards in his hands.
“No problem,” Erika answered sweetly. “Just trying to remember if we’d paid the phone bill. Isn’t that right, Barnard?”
“Yes, dear,” Timothy replied passively, betraying no sign of his true feelings.
It took every ounce of willpower Erika possessed to restrain herself from breaking into a run as the unsuspecting Admissions Officer led them through the hallways of the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning. The anticipation of seeing her brother in the flesh for the first time in over six months was reaching a fever pitch, and the painfully slow pace they were making was like oil on a fire. It seemed like they couldn’t go more than twenty feet at a time without having to stop for some kind of security check, and the whole time she was forced to listen to Landseer droning on about the wondrous things H.I.A.L. was accomplishing in the amazing fields of quantum diversification recombobulating thingamawhatzit theory and hybrid fuel-cell energy transfer co-dependant gadgumacation restructuring. There was also something about reverse-engineering of “found technologies” that sent a weird chill up her spine for some reason, but she figured that for just nerves.
She was still somewhat amazed that they’d made it inside. Knowing ahead of time that the Institute was a top-secret research centre for government projects had not adequately prepared her for just what kind of fortress the place would prove to be. The main building was a massive solid block that made the Zig look like a garden gazebo. Its plain geometric shape broken only by towers festooned with what appeared to be sensor dishes and missile launchers. In some ways it reminded her of something from one of those science-fiction movies her brother used to watch, but in other ways there was something very… industrial… about it. It was not sleek or clean or futuristic looking at all. Just solid. Solid and very, very, very unfriendly.
To even get to the main building, they’d had to cross a compound roughly the size of her old home of Baumton, ringed with massive War Walls no less. She’d never expected to see those outside of Paragon City. The massive inner “courtyard” was patrolled by squads of soldiers belonging to the U.S. Army. The entire facilty was surrounded on three sides by a combined army and air-force base, and the rumble of armoured vehicles and the roar of jet-fighters taking off and landing had made it difficult to talk as they’d made their way across the compound from the reception building.
Erika didn’t want to admit it, but it was mostly thanks to Timothy that they’d made it this far. Not only was he disguising their appearance with an elaborate illusion, he’d also put together all the falsified documentation they’d provided to Landseer. And it was only due to his fast-talking at the entrance that they’d even made it to Landseer’s office in the first place. Of course, once they sat down and handed over the papers, he’d zoned out and left it up to her to do the rest.
“Pfft… typical boy,” she thought testily. “No staying power. Can’t see the job through. Put ‘em in a chair, and all they want to do is take a nap.” Erika had no idea that during the interview, Timothy had been using his abilities to cloud the H.I.A.L. representative’s mind and allay any doubts or suspicions that might have cropped up. What she saw as inattention was actually a cover for intense concentration. Not knowing this, and having a number of other reasons to be on edge, Erika looked over at her schoolmate and began to scowl.
“If you two will wait here a moment,” Martin Landseer’s voice cut into her growing irritation, “I just need to see if your Class Seven visitor passes are ready.” He pointed at the large plastic cards they already wore on cords around their necks. “Those Class Three passes won’t get you into the next section.” With that, he left them in an open space that reminded Erika of nothing so much as a waiting area in a hospital and disappeared into a nearby office. There were a number of staff in the ubiquitous white lab coats passing by, and at least five armed security guards in view down the three adjoining hallways, but for the moment, no one was close enough to hear them speak. Erika did not let the opportunity go to waste.
“What the hell were you doing back there? Daydreaming?” She pitched the question as loud as she dared, in a kind of shout-whisper. Timothy looked around carefully before replying, the features on his disguised face hardening into the cold expression he usually wore around his fiery classmate.
“If you must know, I was concentrating. Our credentials were very thin, and if he got the least bit suspic…” Erika cut him off before he could get any further.
“If our credentials are no good, that’s your fault. You made the damn things,” she glowered. “And what the hell kind of a name is Bertha?”
“Would you have preferred Petunia?”
“Don’t get smart with me, you little snot.” Erika looked down to try to calm herself, but the sight of her frumpy disguise set her off again. “And what’s with this illusion? I don’t think you could have made me any uglier if you were trying.” Her eyebrows raised in sudden suspicion. “You were trying, weren’t you? You did this on purpose.” It was both question and accusation.
“You were supposed to look like a mother. Not a supermodel.”
“Oh yeah? Well you didn’t have any problem making yourself look like Russell Crowe, did you, Doctor Toledo?” She spat out the title mockingly. “And speaking of that, what the hell is up with you being a…”
A discreet cough cut her short.
“Is there some problem, Mrs. Toledo?” asked the returning Landseer, a pair of plastic pass cards in his hands.
“No problem,” Erika answered sweetly. “Just trying to remember if we’d paid the phone bill. Isn’t that right, Barnard?”
“Yes, dear,” Timothy replied passively, betraying no sign of his true feelings.
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
22 November, 2006
She could see children.
Down the corridor, past the security checkpoint, through the just-opened vault-like doors, Erika could see a group of children following a nurse. They looked to be in their early-teens, meaning Stephan wouldn’t be among them. She remembered his letter explaining how the students were split into three rough age groups: 6 to 10, 11 to 14, and 15 to 18. Still, just the sight of anything that actually looked like a school, like a place with kids in it rather than a monolithic fortress-cum-laboratory, made her feel like she was finally on the verge of seeing her brother for the first time in almost six months.
Some of them were laughing.
It was almost surreal the way the sound affected her. She hadn’t heard a laugh, or even seen a face that looked like it knew how to laugh, since leaving Paragon City that morning. Timothy had been a sourpuss as always, and with the possible exception of Mr. Landseer, everyone at H.I.A.L. seemed as grim and serious as a… as a nun, really. It was like the concept of mirth was alien to their makeup. Cutting through that, the sound of childish laughter hit Erika the way a drop of water falling in a pool shatters a silence. She became oblivious to all around her. She saw only the children, heard only the children. She quickened her pace, moving towards them, oblivious to all else until Timothy’s raised voice finally broke through her haze.
“Bertha!” he practically shouted, frantic to get her attention. To his left, Landseer was watching them both quizzically, his gaze shifting from one to the other..
“Umm… yes, dear?” she choked out, forcing a smile, irritated at any kind of delay when she was so close to her objective.
“Can I… talk to you a minute? It’s… urgent.” Even through her rising anger, Erika could sense legitimate concern in his voice and manner. He may be a pain in the ass, but he was a smart pain in the ass and she’d learned to respect his instincts.
“Of course, Barnard. Martin, would you please excuse us a moment? I’m sure this won’t take long.” She flashed a quick smile at the Admissions Officer as she grabbed Timothy by the arm and pulled him down the hall a few yards. Landseer murmured his assent, but his curiosity had clearly been raised.
“Are you nuts?” Erika whispered harshly once they were safely away. “You’re totally making him suspicious.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore,” Timothy replied quickly, completely ignoring her tone. “We have to get out of here now.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We’re practically there. The school area is right through those doors!”
“Yes, and do you see that security station in front of those doors? With all the fancy scanners? They’ve got some kind of anti-magic field there too.”
“A what?”
“An anti-magic field. As soon as we step through there, our disguises will vanish.”
“Can’t you… like… strengthen the illusions to compensate?” Erika was scrambling now, trying to fight off the sick feeling growing in her stomach. She was so close!
“Aren't you listening? It’s an ANTI-MAGIC field. As in, you know, it makes it STOP WORKING. We should have expected this. This place is too well guarded to think they’d take no arcane precautions.”
“Fine then,” Erika said with sudden determination. “We’ll just have to fight the rest of the way.” Already she was beginning to concentrate, preparing to unleash flaming violence upon anyone who stood between her and her brother.
“You idiot!” Timothy raised his voice, no longer caring if Landseer overheard. “We’ve already passed at least thirty guards, and half of them were carrying Sapper Guns. Do you really think there’s a chance in hell we can fight our way out of here?”
“You chicken-shit, Timothy,” Erika snapped spitefully. “I knew I couldn’t count on you.” The expression on his face turned to stone as her words washed over him. When he finally replied, his voice was completely cold and emotionless.
“I will show you how reliable I am, Outcast.” Then he disappeared.
Landseer was the first to react, pulling out a communicator and calling for security. The resulting alarms snapped Erika out of her momentary paralysis, torn between anger at Timothy for blowing their cover, but also relief that the need for subterfuge was ended. Looking down the corridor, she could see the guards from the security station forming a line, all weapons trained on her. She paid them no mind. Her focus was on the doors behind them. Blast proof bulkheads, made of solid metal nearly a foot thick, and already beginning to slide closed. The children she had seen earlier were long gone, but somewhere back there, her brother awaited. Stephan. Her only remaining family. In some kind of trouble, if she’d understood his letters properly. There was no time to waste.
Erika ran. Ran faster than she’d ever run before. Blowing past the startled Landseer. Through the line of guards. Leaving scorch marks on the tiled floor as the air around her burst into flame. The disguise, the illusion of the frumpy Bertha Toledo stripped away as she sprinted through the anti-magic field. The doors continued to slide close. Six feet apart. Now five. Erika made a leap for it. Four feet now. She was going to make it. She was almost through. Her vision blurred, and a familiar tingling washed over her entire body. Three feet. She was going to make it…
Erika slammed into a wall.
Climbing back to her feet a moment later, she looked around in shock. She was in a completely different corridor. Another look, and she recognized it. They’d come this way earlier. She was near the main building entrance. “What the hell?” she asked herself, before the truth hit her.
“Come on, we need to get out of here,” Timothy’s voice came from the air beside her. Even as he spoke, she felt another wave of magic affecting her, and she too faded from sight. A tiny voice in the back of her head was screaming that she should be grateful, relieved to be pulled from the brink and then hidden from detection, but she was in no mood to listen to good sense right now, even her own.
“You little fuck, I’m going to kill you!” she spat out, and for a moment, she truly meant it. She took a step towards him. Towards where she thought he was, anyway. If she could just lay her hands on him for a second…
Then the corridor was filled with running men, heading towards the school entrance she’d just left. There were at least three full squads of security troops, thirty men, in black uniforms and flack jackets, all armed to the teeth. Six of them carried Sapper Guns, and they all radiated an air of confidence. If they knew they were hunting metas, it didn’t seem to bother them. Slowly, the energy drained out of Erika. Whatever might have been possible before, there was no way she was getting through to Stephan now.
“Alright,” she muttered quietly. “Let’s go.”
She could see children.
Down the corridor, past the security checkpoint, through the just-opened vault-like doors, Erika could see a group of children following a nurse. They looked to be in their early-teens, meaning Stephan wouldn’t be among them. She remembered his letter explaining how the students were split into three rough age groups: 6 to 10, 11 to 14, and 15 to 18. Still, just the sight of anything that actually looked like a school, like a place with kids in it rather than a monolithic fortress-cum-laboratory, made her feel like she was finally on the verge of seeing her brother for the first time in almost six months.
Some of them were laughing.
It was almost surreal the way the sound affected her. She hadn’t heard a laugh, or even seen a face that looked like it knew how to laugh, since leaving Paragon City that morning. Timothy had been a sourpuss as always, and with the possible exception of Mr. Landseer, everyone at H.I.A.L. seemed as grim and serious as a… as a nun, really. It was like the concept of mirth was alien to their makeup. Cutting through that, the sound of childish laughter hit Erika the way a drop of water falling in a pool shatters a silence. She became oblivious to all around her. She saw only the children, heard only the children. She quickened her pace, moving towards them, oblivious to all else until Timothy’s raised voice finally broke through her haze.
“Bertha!” he practically shouted, frantic to get her attention. To his left, Landseer was watching them both quizzically, his gaze shifting from one to the other..
“Umm… yes, dear?” she choked out, forcing a smile, irritated at any kind of delay when she was so close to her objective.
“Can I… talk to you a minute? It’s… urgent.” Even through her rising anger, Erika could sense legitimate concern in his voice and manner. He may be a pain in the ass, but he was a smart pain in the ass and she’d learned to respect his instincts.
“Of course, Barnard. Martin, would you please excuse us a moment? I’m sure this won’t take long.” She flashed a quick smile at the Admissions Officer as she grabbed Timothy by the arm and pulled him down the hall a few yards. Landseer murmured his assent, but his curiosity had clearly been raised.
“Are you nuts?” Erika whispered harshly once they were safely away. “You’re totally making him suspicious.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore,” Timothy replied quickly, completely ignoring her tone. “We have to get out of here now.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We’re practically there. The school area is right through those doors!”
“Yes, and do you see that security station in front of those doors? With all the fancy scanners? They’ve got some kind of anti-magic field there too.”
“A what?”
“An anti-magic field. As soon as we step through there, our disguises will vanish.”
“Can’t you… like… strengthen the illusions to compensate?” Erika was scrambling now, trying to fight off the sick feeling growing in her stomach. She was so close!
“Aren't you listening? It’s an ANTI-MAGIC field. As in, you know, it makes it STOP WORKING. We should have expected this. This place is too well guarded to think they’d take no arcane precautions.”
“Fine then,” Erika said with sudden determination. “We’ll just have to fight the rest of the way.” Already she was beginning to concentrate, preparing to unleash flaming violence upon anyone who stood between her and her brother.
“You idiot!” Timothy raised his voice, no longer caring if Landseer overheard. “We’ve already passed at least thirty guards, and half of them were carrying Sapper Guns. Do you really think there’s a chance in hell we can fight our way out of here?”
“You chicken-shit, Timothy,” Erika snapped spitefully. “I knew I couldn’t count on you.” The expression on his face turned to stone as her words washed over him. When he finally replied, his voice was completely cold and emotionless.
“I will show you how reliable I am, Outcast.” Then he disappeared.
Landseer was the first to react, pulling out a communicator and calling for security. The resulting alarms snapped Erika out of her momentary paralysis, torn between anger at Timothy for blowing their cover, but also relief that the need for subterfuge was ended. Looking down the corridor, she could see the guards from the security station forming a line, all weapons trained on her. She paid them no mind. Her focus was on the doors behind them. Blast proof bulkheads, made of solid metal nearly a foot thick, and already beginning to slide closed. The children she had seen earlier were long gone, but somewhere back there, her brother awaited. Stephan. Her only remaining family. In some kind of trouble, if she’d understood his letters properly. There was no time to waste.
Erika ran. Ran faster than she’d ever run before. Blowing past the startled Landseer. Through the line of guards. Leaving scorch marks on the tiled floor as the air around her burst into flame. The disguise, the illusion of the frumpy Bertha Toledo stripped away as she sprinted through the anti-magic field. The doors continued to slide close. Six feet apart. Now five. Erika made a leap for it. Four feet now. She was going to make it. She was almost through. Her vision blurred, and a familiar tingling washed over her entire body. Three feet. She was going to make it…
Erika slammed into a wall.
Climbing back to her feet a moment later, she looked around in shock. She was in a completely different corridor. Another look, and she recognized it. They’d come this way earlier. She was near the main building entrance. “What the hell?” she asked herself, before the truth hit her.
“Come on, we need to get out of here,” Timothy’s voice came from the air beside her. Even as he spoke, she felt another wave of magic affecting her, and she too faded from sight. A tiny voice in the back of her head was screaming that she should be grateful, relieved to be pulled from the brink and then hidden from detection, but she was in no mood to listen to good sense right now, even her own.
“You little fuck, I’m going to kill you!” she spat out, and for a moment, she truly meant it. She took a step towards him. Towards where she thought he was, anyway. If she could just lay her hands on him for a second…
Then the corridor was filled with running men, heading towards the school entrance she’d just left. There were at least three full squads of security troops, thirty men, in black uniforms and flack jackets, all armed to the teeth. Six of them carried Sapper Guns, and they all radiated an air of confidence. If they knew they were hunting metas, it didn’t seem to bother them. Slowly, the energy drained out of Erika. Whatever might have been possible before, there was no way she was getting through to Stephan now.
“Alright,” she muttered quietly. “Let’s go.”
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
22 November, 2006
“I disposed of the car. That should be the last thing linking us to what happened.” Timothy sat down on the park bench next to Erika, waiting for a response, but not really expecting one. The girl hadn’t said a word since they’d left the H.I.A.L. complex seven hours earlier.
“I’m almost positive we’re in the clear,” he continued. “We were in disguise the whole time, except for you at the very end. But that was only for a few seconds, and you were on fire, so they even if they had security cameras they probably won't be able to pick out much.” Erika continued to sit mutely, staring off into the darkness.
“Face it Erika, it just wasn’t going to happen. That place was a fortress. Literally. It would take a small army to get through there.” Timothy looked over to see if his classmate was even listening.
“You shouldn’t have done it,” she said finally, still not looking at him.
“What, teleport you out?” Timothy asked. “Of course I should have. You were going to get yourself caught. Or maybe even killed. They take whatever it is they're doing there very seriously. You’d be in serious trouble if I hadn’t.”
“I’d be with my brother right now if you hadn’t,” she said waspishly.
“No, you’d probably be in the morgue, and likely me with you. Even you couldn’t fight that many guards.” Timothy slipped into lecture mode, but some of his own frustration was starting to leak out. “Plus even if you had got through to him, then what? Did you even have a plan? What were you even going to do, kidnap him from his school?”
“I could have found out if he was safe! I’d have known!” Erika finally turned to look at him, raising her voice a little. “And if he was in trouble like I think he is, I would have… I would have… well… I’d have done what needed doing.”
“Are you crazy?” Timothy asked incredulously. “You lost your disguise. That’s a government protected facility. You’d have been throwing your freedom away, permanently. We’re not talking community service hours here. We’re talking life imprisonment, assuming they didn't just make you disappear.”
“Well that would have been my choice, wouldn’t it,” she replied angrily. “You had no right to make that decision for me.”
“Well next time I’ll know to just take off and leave you to die then, won’t I?”
“Yeah, well that’s what I’d expect from a twerp like you,” she spat back. “Next time? Christ, like I’d ever want you backing me up again. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I’d rather have STASIS than you. At least she’s not a sniveling little worm.”
Timothy clamped his mouth shut, cutting off the angry reply hovering on the edge of his tongue. Whatever was going through his head at that moment, he chose not to share it. His silence did nothing to slow down Erika, however.
“No snappy comebacks, Timmy?” she went on. “No clever little comments? Just as well. I’m not buying any more of your crap. I know what a self-serving little weasel you are, and so does everyone else at this school. No one likes you, you know that? You’ve only got one friend, and I’ll bet it’s only a matter of time before even Barjnal walks away from you. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. He deserves better. You’re nothing but a chain around his ankle, holding him back.”
Erika stared at her classmate defiantly, daring him with her eyes to offer some kind of defence or counter-attack. Instead, Timothy slowly rose to his feet, gave her an impenetrable look, then vanished.
Hours later, she would feel guilty. For now, there was only anger and despair.
(( Timothy’s story continues in: To Have Loved and Lost ))
“I disposed of the car. That should be the last thing linking us to what happened.” Timothy sat down on the park bench next to Erika, waiting for a response, but not really expecting one. The girl hadn’t said a word since they’d left the H.I.A.L. complex seven hours earlier.
“I’m almost positive we’re in the clear,” he continued. “We were in disguise the whole time, except for you at the very end. But that was only for a few seconds, and you were on fire, so they even if they had security cameras they probably won't be able to pick out much.” Erika continued to sit mutely, staring off into the darkness.
“Face it Erika, it just wasn’t going to happen. That place was a fortress. Literally. It would take a small army to get through there.” Timothy looked over to see if his classmate was even listening.
“You shouldn’t have done it,” she said finally, still not looking at him.
“What, teleport you out?” Timothy asked. “Of course I should have. You were going to get yourself caught. Or maybe even killed. They take whatever it is they're doing there very seriously. You’d be in serious trouble if I hadn’t.”
“I’d be with my brother right now if you hadn’t,” she said waspishly.
“No, you’d probably be in the morgue, and likely me with you. Even you couldn’t fight that many guards.” Timothy slipped into lecture mode, but some of his own frustration was starting to leak out. “Plus even if you had got through to him, then what? Did you even have a plan? What were you even going to do, kidnap him from his school?”
“I could have found out if he was safe! I’d have known!” Erika finally turned to look at him, raising her voice a little. “And if he was in trouble like I think he is, I would have… I would have… well… I’d have done what needed doing.”
“Are you crazy?” Timothy asked incredulously. “You lost your disguise. That’s a government protected facility. You’d have been throwing your freedom away, permanently. We’re not talking community service hours here. We’re talking life imprisonment, assuming they didn't just make you disappear.”
“Well that would have been my choice, wouldn’t it,” she replied angrily. “You had no right to make that decision for me.”
“Well next time I’ll know to just take off and leave you to die then, won’t I?”
“Yeah, well that’s what I’d expect from a twerp like you,” she spat back. “Next time? Christ, like I’d ever want you backing me up again. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I’d rather have STASIS than you. At least she’s not a sniveling little worm.”
Timothy clamped his mouth shut, cutting off the angry reply hovering on the edge of his tongue. Whatever was going through his head at that moment, he chose not to share it. His silence did nothing to slow down Erika, however.
“No snappy comebacks, Timmy?” she went on. “No clever little comments? Just as well. I’m not buying any more of your crap. I know what a self-serving little weasel you are, and so does everyone else at this school. No one likes you, you know that? You’ve only got one friend, and I’ll bet it’s only a matter of time before even Barjnal walks away from you. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. He deserves better. You’re nothing but a chain around his ankle, holding him back.”
Erika stared at her classmate defiantly, daring him with her eyes to offer some kind of defence or counter-attack. Instead, Timothy slowly rose to his feet, gave her an impenetrable look, then vanished.
Hours later, she would feel guilty. For now, there was only anger and despair.
(( Timothy’s story continues in: To Have Loved and Lost ))
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
19 February, 2007
You’re not going to believe this but I made a force field generator today. They gave everyone in my group a big box of parts and told us to design and build any kind of device we wanted. So I looked at what I had, and I thought about you and all the bad guys you must be fighting all the time, and I decided to build something you could use. It’s not perfect. There weren’t enough projection apertures to make a whole sphere, so I gave it a 210 degree arc to cover the front and sides. Phillip and Lisa were making fun of it, saying it was useless without rear protection, but I told them it was for my sister and she never runs away!
Lisa made some stupid data reader that was basically just a rebuild of a thing in her box. Weak. I think Phillip was trying to build a Death Star. It was huge, whatever it was. He was scamming parts from other people’s boxes. But he never finished it. What a tool he is.
Therese made some kind of holographic projector. It doesn’t really have any use, except it makes pretty colored balls of light float around and plays some kind of tinkly music. I don’t know. I liked it. Professor Skirner seemed kind of disappointed, but Therese didn’t seem to care. I think it was supposed to be like art or something. Art is cool, right? I wish you could meet her. She’s really nice.
You haven’t said anything about Tony in your last two letters. Is something wrong? I thought everything was better between you two. Did he go away again? Why do people do that? Why do they go away and leave you? Isn’t it bad enough that people get taken away? I don’t understand people sometimes. I miss you Erika, but I don’t know if I miss the city. It’s so much better for me here. I’m learning so much. I’m with people who understand what I’m saying. Even Phillip Yang is kind of smart. For a retard.
Please write again soon. And Daniel told me to ask you to send more pictures. I think he’s got a crush on you. He keeps asking when you’re going to visit. I want you to visit too. I miss you.
Stephan
--------------------
30 May, 2007
Three men sat in a dark room, eyes trained on a large projection video screen displaying an assortment of videos, images, and documents in a repeating pattern. A fourth man, built like a linebacker but wearing the white lab coat of a scientist, stood near the screen, prepared to answer questions or offer additional data.
“You are certain this subject had no prior exposure to this technology? You have investigated thoroughly?” The first questions came from the oldest of the three seated men. Like the others, he wore a plain but well-tailored dark suit. His accent was European. Dutch, to be specific.
“Subject Group Delta-Seven was deliberately denied access to or even knowledge of Inkorian technology as part of our long term plan, but yes, we back-checked for accidental exposure. There was none. The test conditions were completely valid.” The answering voice sounded American. Deep and resonating. The voice of a man confident in his position and abilities.
“What about the rest of the group, Doctor?” asked a second seated voice, also Dutch. “Were any of them able to decipher the charging mechanism?”
“No, only subject D7-A. The others were completely baffled. But the Raeder boy grasped the theory and instantly deduced the nature of the malfunction we introduced. He corrected the flaw in minutes.”
“This is not the first time this subject has demonstrated such abilities, yes?”
“That is correct. His instinctive grasp of new technologies goes beyond the realm of pure intelligence. He performs like a technopath, although all tests indicate that his dormant mutation lies along another path.” A moment later, the results of a bio-genetic examination of subject D7-A were displayed on the projection screen. The doctor nodded to someone in the back of the room, then turned back to the seated men. “We had planned to groom him for potential transfer to the Hamburg project, but I now believe he’d be of more use here with us.”
“I am inclined to agree, Doctor,” the first voice spoke again. “I assume there will be no difficulties in retaining him?”
“None whatsoever. He is an orphan. A ward of the state. They were happy to turn him over to us, and he has no where else to go.”
“You are forgetting something, good doctor.” The third man spoke for the first time, in a harsh German accent although his English was flawless. “There is the matter of his sister.”
“With all due respect to security section, I do not consider her a factor. My department does not share your belief that she was involved with the infiltration attempt last November.” Despite his objections, the doctor signaled his unseen assistant to call up the security camera footage of the incident in question. It was a seven-second clip, showing a young woman surrounded by flame leaping towards a rapidly closing door before suddenly disappearing.
“As you can see,” the doctor explained, “it is impossible to confirm the identity of this suspect.”
“On the contrary, doctor,” the security representative answered. “Our computer estimates of this suspect’s height and measurements match perfectly with the physical records of young Miss Raeder. Further it is known that Miss Raeder possesses mutant abilities identical to those demonstrated by the unknown suspect. In addition, our investigations have determined that Miss Raeder was absent from her school on the day in question. We are quite convinced.”
“I will concede the possibility then, but I still do not consider her a problem. She is a juvenile offender, saddled with parole restrictions, and under court-order to refrain from physical contact with her brother.”
“Your information is out of date, herr doctor. She is now a military operative, and as of last week, holds a level 50 Security Level clearance from Freedom Corps. Assuming there are no irregularities, her parole restrictions will be lifted within the month. The restraining order will go soon after.”
“I see. Yes, that could be problematic.” The doctor rubbed at his chin and considered. “What are the odds that there will be… irregularities?”
“I would say they were very good, doctor. Very good indeed.”
--------------------
16 June, 2007
“Hello? I received a page from this number?”
“Yes, is this Erika Raeder?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Who are you?”
“My name is Stephanie Wirtz from Child Services. It’s about your brother.”
“Stephan? Oh my god, is he okay?”
“Oh yes, he’s fine. It’s about his legal status.”
“What do you mean?”
“An application has been filed to assume his legal guardianship.”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t even filled those out yet. I need to clear up my own status first.”
“No, you misunderstand. This application was filed on behalf of the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning.”
“… What?”
--------------------
27 August, 2007
Hey Erika, I’m glad to hear you’re okay. We got attacked once here, but we’re surrounded by an army base so they didn’t even get close. I’m fine. Really busy with my projects lately.
Garrison sounds like a great guy. I’m happy for you.
I’ll write again soon. Miss you.
Stephan
--------------------
18 October, 2007
“Okay seriously, double-you tee eff, why does this keep happening?” Erika looked accusingly at the two young men sitting across the table. Kevin Simpson and David Bannerman were partners, representing the entirety of the legal firm of Simpson and Bannerman. They were Erika’s lawyers, hired to help put together her custody appeal for Stephan, and also to help cut through the red tape that seemed to have wrapped itself around her own legal status.
“It’s not unusual for hearings to be postponed, Erika,” David answered. “I’ll admit, there does seem to be an exceptional amount of disorganization in the D.A.’s office lately. I think they’re still dealing with backlog from the invasion.”
“Yeah, but this is like the fourth time in a row the judge has sat down, looked at one piece of paper, then called for an adjournment. It’s been almost five months and I’m still not allowed to go for a country drive or buy a plane ticket or… or see my freaking brother!”
“I know Erika, I know” Kevin tried to reassure the agitated girl. “I don’t understand it myself. The D.A.’s office keeps finding reasons to put this off. It should be just a formality. I’m starting to get suspicious about what’s really going on.”
“Oh don’t start with that again, Kev!” David scoffed. “It’s just bureaucratic incompetence, that’s all it is. We just need to be patient.”
“Easy for you to say,” mumbled Erika.
--------------------
11 November, 2007
It was a cloudy night, but even on the clearest of days it was hard to see much in Boomtown, even from a ledge on one of the few remaining tall buildings in the district’s elevated central area. The Clocks hadn’t made it to apartment 17-C, and neither had the Trolls. Erika made a point of coming by every few days to make sure they never would.
Ignoring the cold, she rarely ever felt cold, the girl kneeled down and opened the box she’d brought with her. Inside was a framed picture of herself, her father, and her brother, taken six years ago when she’d turned thirteen and Stephan turned eleven. It was the last time the three of them had celebrated their shared birthday together. In addition to the picture, the box contained a six-pack of Barq’s, a mickey of Johnny Walker Black, a pair of small candles, a pack of matches, and a chocolate cupcake in a small Tupperware container.
The first thing she did was set up the picture on the windowsill. Then she took a swig of the Scotch, washing it down with some root beer. Finally, she stuck the two candles into the cupcake and lit them with a match.
“Happy Birthday Stephan,” she whispered, then made a wish and blew.
--------------------
28 December, 2007
“Hello again, Detective Westbrush.”
“If you’re here to ask me about the Bannerman case, Raeder, all I can tell you is that he’s still missing.”
“Oh come on, he’s my lawyer. You can tell me more than that.”
“Client does not equal family, sorry.”
“You do know I’m a ‘Hero of the City’, right? I can help you with this case.”
“Sure thing, hot stuff. Next time I need someone to light my cigarette, you’ll be the first one I call.”
“Watch it, smartass, or I just may have an ‘accident’ while trying to do that.”
“Look, Kevin Simpson told me something about your case, so I’m sympathetic. But I’ve got to follow department policy.”
“Can’t you tell me anything?”
“Well…”
“So there is something to tell. Come on, share. I won’t get you in trouble, I promise.”
“Alright, here it is. We’ll see if you can figure out what this means. When we searched his apartment, the only things missing were his laptop, his flash drives, his photo albums, and his baseball card collection. Everything else was still there. Clothes, CDs, DVDs, X-Box and a pile of games, and his car.”
“Huh? Most of that sounds like he left on purpose, but why did he leave some of that other stuff. I know for a fact he loved his movie collection at least as much as his cards. And he was really proud of that car.”
“Yeah, well what’s the difference between a card collection and a bunch of DVD’s?”
“Oh… oh.. .’cause that’s all stuff you can replace. I mean, if…”
“If you’ve got money.”
“Well… shit.”
You’re not going to believe this but I made a force field generator today. They gave everyone in my group a big box of parts and told us to design and build any kind of device we wanted. So I looked at what I had, and I thought about you and all the bad guys you must be fighting all the time, and I decided to build something you could use. It’s not perfect. There weren’t enough projection apertures to make a whole sphere, so I gave it a 210 degree arc to cover the front and sides. Phillip and Lisa were making fun of it, saying it was useless without rear protection, but I told them it was for my sister and she never runs away!
Lisa made some stupid data reader that was basically just a rebuild of a thing in her box. Weak. I think Phillip was trying to build a Death Star. It was huge, whatever it was. He was scamming parts from other people’s boxes. But he never finished it. What a tool he is.
Therese made some kind of holographic projector. It doesn’t really have any use, except it makes pretty colored balls of light float around and plays some kind of tinkly music. I don’t know. I liked it. Professor Skirner seemed kind of disappointed, but Therese didn’t seem to care. I think it was supposed to be like art or something. Art is cool, right? I wish you could meet her. She’s really nice.
You haven’t said anything about Tony in your last two letters. Is something wrong? I thought everything was better between you two. Did he go away again? Why do people do that? Why do they go away and leave you? Isn’t it bad enough that people get taken away? I don’t understand people sometimes. I miss you Erika, but I don’t know if I miss the city. It’s so much better for me here. I’m learning so much. I’m with people who understand what I’m saying. Even Phillip Yang is kind of smart. For a retard.
Please write again soon. And Daniel told me to ask you to send more pictures. I think he’s got a crush on you. He keeps asking when you’re going to visit. I want you to visit too. I miss you.
Stephan
--------------------
30 May, 2007
Three men sat in a dark room, eyes trained on a large projection video screen displaying an assortment of videos, images, and documents in a repeating pattern. A fourth man, built like a linebacker but wearing the white lab coat of a scientist, stood near the screen, prepared to answer questions or offer additional data.
“You are certain this subject had no prior exposure to this technology? You have investigated thoroughly?” The first questions came from the oldest of the three seated men. Like the others, he wore a plain but well-tailored dark suit. His accent was European. Dutch, to be specific.
“Subject Group Delta-Seven was deliberately denied access to or even knowledge of Inkorian technology as part of our long term plan, but yes, we back-checked for accidental exposure. There was none. The test conditions were completely valid.” The answering voice sounded American. Deep and resonating. The voice of a man confident in his position and abilities.
“What about the rest of the group, Doctor?” asked a second seated voice, also Dutch. “Were any of them able to decipher the charging mechanism?”
“No, only subject D7-A. The others were completely baffled. But the Raeder boy grasped the theory and instantly deduced the nature of the malfunction we introduced. He corrected the flaw in minutes.”
“This is not the first time this subject has demonstrated such abilities, yes?”
“That is correct. His instinctive grasp of new technologies goes beyond the realm of pure intelligence. He performs like a technopath, although all tests indicate that his dormant mutation lies along another path.” A moment later, the results of a bio-genetic examination of subject D7-A were displayed on the projection screen. The doctor nodded to someone in the back of the room, then turned back to the seated men. “We had planned to groom him for potential transfer to the Hamburg project, but I now believe he’d be of more use here with us.”
“I am inclined to agree, Doctor,” the first voice spoke again. “I assume there will be no difficulties in retaining him?”
“None whatsoever. He is an orphan. A ward of the state. They were happy to turn him over to us, and he has no where else to go.”
“You are forgetting something, good doctor.” The third man spoke for the first time, in a harsh German accent although his English was flawless. “There is the matter of his sister.”
“With all due respect to security section, I do not consider her a factor. My department does not share your belief that she was involved with the infiltration attempt last November.” Despite his objections, the doctor signaled his unseen assistant to call up the security camera footage of the incident in question. It was a seven-second clip, showing a young woman surrounded by flame leaping towards a rapidly closing door before suddenly disappearing.
“As you can see,” the doctor explained, “it is impossible to confirm the identity of this suspect.”
“On the contrary, doctor,” the security representative answered. “Our computer estimates of this suspect’s height and measurements match perfectly with the physical records of young Miss Raeder. Further it is known that Miss Raeder possesses mutant abilities identical to those demonstrated by the unknown suspect. In addition, our investigations have determined that Miss Raeder was absent from her school on the day in question. We are quite convinced.”
“I will concede the possibility then, but I still do not consider her a problem. She is a juvenile offender, saddled with parole restrictions, and under court-order to refrain from physical contact with her brother.”
“Your information is out of date, herr doctor. She is now a military operative, and as of last week, holds a level 50 Security Level clearance from Freedom Corps. Assuming there are no irregularities, her parole restrictions will be lifted within the month. The restraining order will go soon after.”
“I see. Yes, that could be problematic.” The doctor rubbed at his chin and considered. “What are the odds that there will be… irregularities?”
“I would say they were very good, doctor. Very good indeed.”
--------------------
16 June, 2007
“Hello? I received a page from this number?”
“Yes, is this Erika Raeder?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Who are you?”
“My name is Stephanie Wirtz from Child Services. It’s about your brother.”
“Stephan? Oh my god, is he okay?”
“Oh yes, he’s fine. It’s about his legal status.”
“What do you mean?”
“An application has been filed to assume his legal guardianship.”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t even filled those out yet. I need to clear up my own status first.”
“No, you misunderstand. This application was filed on behalf of the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning.”
“… What?”
--------------------
27 August, 2007
Hey Erika, I’m glad to hear you’re okay. We got attacked once here, but we’re surrounded by an army base so they didn’t even get close. I’m fine. Really busy with my projects lately.
Garrison sounds like a great guy. I’m happy for you.
I’ll write again soon. Miss you.
Stephan
--------------------
18 October, 2007
“Okay seriously, double-you tee eff, why does this keep happening?” Erika looked accusingly at the two young men sitting across the table. Kevin Simpson and David Bannerman were partners, representing the entirety of the legal firm of Simpson and Bannerman. They were Erika’s lawyers, hired to help put together her custody appeal for Stephan, and also to help cut through the red tape that seemed to have wrapped itself around her own legal status.
“It’s not unusual for hearings to be postponed, Erika,” David answered. “I’ll admit, there does seem to be an exceptional amount of disorganization in the D.A.’s office lately. I think they’re still dealing with backlog from the invasion.”
“Yeah, but this is like the fourth time in a row the judge has sat down, looked at one piece of paper, then called for an adjournment. It’s been almost five months and I’m still not allowed to go for a country drive or buy a plane ticket or… or see my freaking brother!”
“I know Erika, I know” Kevin tried to reassure the agitated girl. “I don’t understand it myself. The D.A.’s office keeps finding reasons to put this off. It should be just a formality. I’m starting to get suspicious about what’s really going on.”
“Oh don’t start with that again, Kev!” David scoffed. “It’s just bureaucratic incompetence, that’s all it is. We just need to be patient.”
“Easy for you to say,” mumbled Erika.
--------------------
11 November, 2007
It was a cloudy night, but even on the clearest of days it was hard to see much in Boomtown, even from a ledge on one of the few remaining tall buildings in the district’s elevated central area. The Clocks hadn’t made it to apartment 17-C, and neither had the Trolls. Erika made a point of coming by every few days to make sure they never would.
Ignoring the cold, she rarely ever felt cold, the girl kneeled down and opened the box she’d brought with her. Inside was a framed picture of herself, her father, and her brother, taken six years ago when she’d turned thirteen and Stephan turned eleven. It was the last time the three of them had celebrated their shared birthday together. In addition to the picture, the box contained a six-pack of Barq’s, a mickey of Johnny Walker Black, a pair of small candles, a pack of matches, and a chocolate cupcake in a small Tupperware container.
The first thing she did was set up the picture on the windowsill. Then she took a swig of the Scotch, washing it down with some root beer. Finally, she stuck the two candles into the cupcake and lit them with a match.
“Happy Birthday Stephan,” she whispered, then made a wish and blew.
--------------------
28 December, 2007
“Hello again, Detective Westbrush.”
“If you’re here to ask me about the Bannerman case, Raeder, all I can tell you is that he’s still missing.”
“Oh come on, he’s my lawyer. You can tell me more than that.”
“Client does not equal family, sorry.”
“You do know I’m a ‘Hero of the City’, right? I can help you with this case.”
“Sure thing, hot stuff. Next time I need someone to light my cigarette, you’ll be the first one I call.”
“Watch it, smartass, or I just may have an ‘accident’ while trying to do that.”
“Look, Kevin Simpson told me something about your case, so I’m sympathetic. But I’ve got to follow department policy.”
“Can’t you tell me anything?”
“Well…”
“So there is something to tell. Come on, share. I won’t get you in trouble, I promise.”
“Alright, here it is. We’ll see if you can figure out what this means. When we searched his apartment, the only things missing were his laptop, his flash drives, his photo albums, and his baseball card collection. Everything else was still there. Clothes, CDs, DVDs, X-Box and a pile of games, and his car.”
“Huh? Most of that sounds like he left on purpose, but why did he leave some of that other stuff. I know for a fact he loved his movie collection at least as much as his cards. And he was really proud of that car.”
“Yeah, well what’s the difference between a card collection and a bunch of DVD’s?”
“Oh… oh.. .’cause that’s all stuff you can replace. I mean, if…”
“If you’ve got money.”
“Well… shit.”
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
11 January, 2008
It took less than twenty minutes, but to Erika it felt like at least an hour. There was a lot of documents being handed out, all with dry names consisting of incomprehensible sequences of numbers and letters. She almost smiled at one point when it turned out there actually was an "Exhibit A", but was disappointed when it proved to be yet another bland legal document.
It was the quiet that kept her on edge. Her life was typically filled with noise. Shouting, music, gunfire, screams of pain, and even occasionally joy. It was easy to hide in the noise. In the chaos. In combat, she was just one more pinball, bouncing from bumper to bumper, foe to foe, striking and pushing off, screaming and burning and trying so hard not to look at the carnage in her wake. Seeing only what remained to be done.
There was nowhere to hide in this cold, sterile, and quiet room. She was afraid to breathe even. Every so often, someone would cough, and it would be more jarring, more attention-grabbing than a burst of auto-fire from a Council chain-gunner. Those directly involved in the proceedings spoke only when they had to, using technical terms and legal jargon. Their voices heard clearly even though they too, seemed to speak quietly.
On television, courtrooms always seemed so well appointed, nicely decorated with wood panelling and warm, subdued lighting. Judges would appear almost regal, sitting at the head of the room, hearing the pleas of the supplicants. The lawyers would speak passionately, using arguments fueled by both logic and emotion to sway the juries to their point of view, dealing with weighty questions of right and wrong.
Looking at the bland white-stucco walls of East District Courtroom #7, Erika simply couldn't imagine anyone here leaping to their feet and yelling "I object!". No judge in this tiny room would ever be required to bang their gavel while shouting "Order! Order! Order in the court!". It wasn't going to happen. She supposed that was a good thing. Better that legal matters be conducted in a brisk, business-like fashion. Even if it was boring as hell.
Looking over at the Assistant District Attorney representing the City, Erika tried to remember if he'd been at any of the previous hearings. Her own lawyer Kevin, working solo since his partner's disappearance, had assured her that today would be the final ruling at last, but the girl whose fate was being decided today was still paranoid. She still expected the D.A. to file one more motion to stay proceedings, as had been done so many times before. There were no representatives from Hollindale present, but their influence had clearly been felt at all seven prior hearings. Was it possible that they'd given up? Or that the new D.A. on the case was somehow immune to their pressure and influence?
If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that no one on either side was arguing anything passionately. It was almost infuriating. Her entire future hung on the outcome of this hearing, and they were just standing there calling out numbers and referring to documents, sounding more bored than a cashier at El Super Mexicano.
Then, suddenly, it was over. The judge and the D.A. were both on their feet and half-way out the room, likely in search of coffee or cigarettes or both, before Erika even realized the hearing had ended.
"That's it," Kevin said, looking down with a half-smile, finally showing some kind of emotion. "Your record has been cleared. Clean slate. No more restrictions. Congratulations, Erika."
It took less than twenty minutes, but to Erika it felt like at least an hour. There was a lot of documents being handed out, all with dry names consisting of incomprehensible sequences of numbers and letters. She almost smiled at one point when it turned out there actually was an "Exhibit A", but was disappointed when it proved to be yet another bland legal document.
It was the quiet that kept her on edge. Her life was typically filled with noise. Shouting, music, gunfire, screams of pain, and even occasionally joy. It was easy to hide in the noise. In the chaos. In combat, she was just one more pinball, bouncing from bumper to bumper, foe to foe, striking and pushing off, screaming and burning and trying so hard not to look at the carnage in her wake. Seeing only what remained to be done.
There was nowhere to hide in this cold, sterile, and quiet room. She was afraid to breathe even. Every so often, someone would cough, and it would be more jarring, more attention-grabbing than a burst of auto-fire from a Council chain-gunner. Those directly involved in the proceedings spoke only when they had to, using technical terms and legal jargon. Their voices heard clearly even though they too, seemed to speak quietly.
On television, courtrooms always seemed so well appointed, nicely decorated with wood panelling and warm, subdued lighting. Judges would appear almost regal, sitting at the head of the room, hearing the pleas of the supplicants. The lawyers would speak passionately, using arguments fueled by both logic and emotion to sway the juries to their point of view, dealing with weighty questions of right and wrong.
Looking at the bland white-stucco walls of East District Courtroom #7, Erika simply couldn't imagine anyone here leaping to their feet and yelling "I object!". No judge in this tiny room would ever be required to bang their gavel while shouting "Order! Order! Order in the court!". It wasn't going to happen. She supposed that was a good thing. Better that legal matters be conducted in a brisk, business-like fashion. Even if it was boring as hell.
Looking over at the Assistant District Attorney representing the City, Erika tried to remember if he'd been at any of the previous hearings. Her own lawyer Kevin, working solo since his partner's disappearance, had assured her that today would be the final ruling at last, but the girl whose fate was being decided today was still paranoid. She still expected the D.A. to file one more motion to stay proceedings, as had been done so many times before. There were no representatives from Hollindale present, but their influence had clearly been felt at all seven prior hearings. Was it possible that they'd given up? Or that the new D.A. on the case was somehow immune to their pressure and influence?
If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that no one on either side was arguing anything passionately. It was almost infuriating. Her entire future hung on the outcome of this hearing, and they were just standing there calling out numbers and referring to documents, sounding more bored than a cashier at El Super Mexicano.
Then, suddenly, it was over. The judge and the D.A. were both on their feet and half-way out the room, likely in search of coffee or cigarettes or both, before Erika even realized the hearing had ended.
"That's it," Kevin said, looking down with a half-smile, finally showing some kind of emotion. "Your record has been cleared. Clean slate. No more restrictions. Congratulations, Erika."
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
21 January, 2008
Another week, another courtroom. Erika had become used to the formality of the environment from her seemingly endless series of parole hearings, but there was a different feel to it today. This time it wasn’t about her, it was about Stephan. This time it really mattered. This time, she cared so much about the outcome it hurt. She was nervous. Twitchy. Fear was playing tricks with her mind. The mutant scorcher who laughed at giant robots and wiped out Rikti patrols before breakfast was afraid.
There was more energy in the room this time. At first, she thought it was just her, but slowly she realized it wasn’t. There were more people, more whispers, more rapt faces paying attention, than at any of her prior court sessions. The small audience section was almost full. She wondered who they all were, these people who found a child’s custody hearing a worthwhile place to spend their Monday morning. All of Erika’s classmates were at school, of course. She’d been too proud, or simply too nervous to ask any of them to accompany her.
Turning away from the audience to the table next to hers, Erika sized up the immediate opposition. Four lawyers from the Ferrat-Hollindale corporation. Each backed up by a pair of interns. They weren’t dressed alike, or similar in age, or even ethnicity, but somehow they gave the impression of being all cut from the same cloth. Like cogs in a ruthless, impersonal, all-conquering corporate machine. Something in their mannerism and expression seemed to say “If you strike me down, two more will rise in my place.” To oppose them, Erika had Kevin Simpson, the earnest yet helplessly scruffy looking young lawyer from Skyway City. He had plenty of heart, she knew, but he was seriously out of his element.
At last she turned her attention to the witness stand, examining the man she was fancifully coming to think of as her secret enemy revealed at last. A tall man, handsome even, in a well-cut suit that somehow emphasized his muscular frame. He looked like some kind of security operative, or even a Hero, but he’d been introduced as Doctor Ronald Lawton, Assistant Administrator of the educational program at the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning. Stephan’s vice-principal, after a fashion. With little prompting from one of his many lawyers, he was outlining all the wonderful things the Institute was doing for her brother. Free board and care, university level education, access to unparalleled scientific facilities. Erika was surprised to learn that Stephan had already earned a B.A. in Metaphysics, whatever that was, and was well on his way to similar degrees in Engineering and Biomechanics. She didn’t like the sound of that last thing at all.
Compared to that, what could she offer? She had no home, no proper job, and very little money left after eight months of constant legal wrangling. All she could offer was her love and the bond that comes from being family. That had to be enough.
Besides, it’s not like she was determined to pull him out of H.I.A.L. If he wanted to stay there, that was fine with her. She wanted access though. She needed to be able to see him, to talk to him, whenever she wanted. They could teach him if they still wanted. Hell, they could even hire him when he came of age, which she was fairly certain was what they were aiming for. She just didn’t want them owning him.
“When do they get to the nasty stuff?” she whispered to Kevin.
“Actually, I’m not sure they’re going to,” he replied, sounding a little surprised himself. “They’ve almost finished making their case, and so far it’s all been positive stuff about them and no negative swipes at you.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I came in here expecting to spend most of my time defending your record, not attacking them. I’m not really prepared to counter…” He paused, listening to something Doctor Lawton was saying. Finally he’d made a reference to Erika’s record. Kevin had pulled out all the stops getting the motion to bar her juvenile records from the proceedings reapplied, and this was just the kind of opening he’d been waiting for.
“Objection,” he called out, leaping to his feet.
For one fleeting moment, Erika thought he was the sexiest man alive.
“Counsel?” asked the judge, both annoyed and amused by the sudden outburst.
“I call the court’s attention to motion 247, barring all reference to Miss Raeder’s prior record from consideration in this hearing.” The excited young lawyer waved a document that may or may not have contained the aforementioned motion in the air, looking around the room with a slightly satisfied look on his face. Surprisingly, it was Doctor Lawton himself who spoke first in response.
“You misunderstand me, Mister Simpson. I was not referring to any legal record, but to Miss Raeder’s very laudable heroic record of service to this city and its people. She is to be commended.”
“… oh…” Kevin was caught completely off-guard, feeling suddenly foolish. Lost for words, he quietly dropped back into his seat and looked helplessly at Erika. “I have no idea where this is going,” he admitted in a whisper.
“Please go on, Doctor Lawton,” the judge prompted after a brief pause.
“Of course, your honor. I was saying that we at H.I.A.L. are very impressed with Miss Raeder’s record of service to the city, both in actions against known para-military criminal organizations, and against the Rikti invaders in the nearby war zone. My contacts in the Vanguard organization have told me many stories about the dangerous missions she’s undertaken on their behalf, and her absolute fearlessness in the face of insurmountable odds.”
There was more, but Erika was having trouble focusing on the words. She turned to Kevin with a look of utter confusion and saw his eyes begin to widen in growing understanding.
“Danger,” he explained. “They’re subtly saying your lifestyle is too dangerous to make a suitable guardian. You could be killed or seriously injured at any time.” A frown marred his features as he struggled to think of a way to counter this unexpected tactic. “I don’t know how to fight this. Really, I mean… they have a point.”
Erika shot him a mean look. He was supposed to be her lawyer. He was supposed to be smart. He was supposed to be ready for crap like this. This was so unfair. The injustice was almost unbearable. Burned on the altar of her own good deeds.
“Okay, we can’t counter this, so we won’t,” Kevin said finally. “We’ll stick with our original plan. Emphasize the family connection. That you made up over a year of missed schooling. Emphasize the responsibility you’ve shown with your Hero work and not the danger. Remember, the onus is on them. The court’s going to need a damn good reason to basically hand a kid over to a corporation when he’s still got living, breathing family. We’re still in the driver’s seat.”
“You really think we can win?” Erika asked hopefully.
“I know we can,” he replied with growing confidence, smiling for the first time on the day.
Another week, another courtroom. Erika had become used to the formality of the environment from her seemingly endless series of parole hearings, but there was a different feel to it today. This time it wasn’t about her, it was about Stephan. This time it really mattered. This time, she cared so much about the outcome it hurt. She was nervous. Twitchy. Fear was playing tricks with her mind. The mutant scorcher who laughed at giant robots and wiped out Rikti patrols before breakfast was afraid.
There was more energy in the room this time. At first, she thought it was just her, but slowly she realized it wasn’t. There were more people, more whispers, more rapt faces paying attention, than at any of her prior court sessions. The small audience section was almost full. She wondered who they all were, these people who found a child’s custody hearing a worthwhile place to spend their Monday morning. All of Erika’s classmates were at school, of course. She’d been too proud, or simply too nervous to ask any of them to accompany her.
Turning away from the audience to the table next to hers, Erika sized up the immediate opposition. Four lawyers from the Ferrat-Hollindale corporation. Each backed up by a pair of interns. They weren’t dressed alike, or similar in age, or even ethnicity, but somehow they gave the impression of being all cut from the same cloth. Like cogs in a ruthless, impersonal, all-conquering corporate machine. Something in their mannerism and expression seemed to say “If you strike me down, two more will rise in my place.” To oppose them, Erika had Kevin Simpson, the earnest yet helplessly scruffy looking young lawyer from Skyway City. He had plenty of heart, she knew, but he was seriously out of his element.
At last she turned her attention to the witness stand, examining the man she was fancifully coming to think of as her secret enemy revealed at last. A tall man, handsome even, in a well-cut suit that somehow emphasized his muscular frame. He looked like some kind of security operative, or even a Hero, but he’d been introduced as Doctor Ronald Lawton, Assistant Administrator of the educational program at the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning. Stephan’s vice-principal, after a fashion. With little prompting from one of his many lawyers, he was outlining all the wonderful things the Institute was doing for her brother. Free board and care, university level education, access to unparalleled scientific facilities. Erika was surprised to learn that Stephan had already earned a B.A. in Metaphysics, whatever that was, and was well on his way to similar degrees in Engineering and Biomechanics. She didn’t like the sound of that last thing at all.
Compared to that, what could she offer? She had no home, no proper job, and very little money left after eight months of constant legal wrangling. All she could offer was her love and the bond that comes from being family. That had to be enough.
Besides, it’s not like she was determined to pull him out of H.I.A.L. If he wanted to stay there, that was fine with her. She wanted access though. She needed to be able to see him, to talk to him, whenever she wanted. They could teach him if they still wanted. Hell, they could even hire him when he came of age, which she was fairly certain was what they were aiming for. She just didn’t want them owning him.
“When do they get to the nasty stuff?” she whispered to Kevin.
“Actually, I’m not sure they’re going to,” he replied, sounding a little surprised himself. “They’ve almost finished making their case, and so far it’s all been positive stuff about them and no negative swipes at you.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I came in here expecting to spend most of my time defending your record, not attacking them. I’m not really prepared to counter…” He paused, listening to something Doctor Lawton was saying. Finally he’d made a reference to Erika’s record. Kevin had pulled out all the stops getting the motion to bar her juvenile records from the proceedings reapplied, and this was just the kind of opening he’d been waiting for.
“Objection,” he called out, leaping to his feet.
For one fleeting moment, Erika thought he was the sexiest man alive.
“Counsel?” asked the judge, both annoyed and amused by the sudden outburst.
“I call the court’s attention to motion 247, barring all reference to Miss Raeder’s prior record from consideration in this hearing.” The excited young lawyer waved a document that may or may not have contained the aforementioned motion in the air, looking around the room with a slightly satisfied look on his face. Surprisingly, it was Doctor Lawton himself who spoke first in response.
“You misunderstand me, Mister Simpson. I was not referring to any legal record, but to Miss Raeder’s very laudable heroic record of service to this city and its people. She is to be commended.”
“… oh…” Kevin was caught completely off-guard, feeling suddenly foolish. Lost for words, he quietly dropped back into his seat and looked helplessly at Erika. “I have no idea where this is going,” he admitted in a whisper.
“Please go on, Doctor Lawton,” the judge prompted after a brief pause.
“Of course, your honor. I was saying that we at H.I.A.L. are very impressed with Miss Raeder’s record of service to the city, both in actions against known para-military criminal organizations, and against the Rikti invaders in the nearby war zone. My contacts in the Vanguard organization have told me many stories about the dangerous missions she’s undertaken on their behalf, and her absolute fearlessness in the face of insurmountable odds.”
There was more, but Erika was having trouble focusing on the words. She turned to Kevin with a look of utter confusion and saw his eyes begin to widen in growing understanding.
“Danger,” he explained. “They’re subtly saying your lifestyle is too dangerous to make a suitable guardian. You could be killed or seriously injured at any time.” A frown marred his features as he struggled to think of a way to counter this unexpected tactic. “I don’t know how to fight this. Really, I mean… they have a point.”
Erika shot him a mean look. He was supposed to be her lawyer. He was supposed to be smart. He was supposed to be ready for crap like this. This was so unfair. The injustice was almost unbearable. Burned on the altar of her own good deeds.
“Okay, we can’t counter this, so we won’t,” Kevin said finally. “We’ll stick with our original plan. Emphasize the family connection. That you made up over a year of missed schooling. Emphasize the responsibility you’ve shown with your Hero work and not the danger. Remember, the onus is on them. The court’s going to need a damn good reason to basically hand a kid over to a corporation when he’s still got living, breathing family. We’re still in the driver’s seat.”
“You really think we can win?” Erika asked hopefully.
“I know we can,” he replied with growing confidence, smiling for the first time on the day.
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...
-
Erika Raeder
- Million Dollar Baby
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Thu Aug 17, 2006 8:58 pm
- Location: Baumton... deal with it!
Re: My Brother's Keeper
24 January, 2008
It felt so strange to be out of the city. Not that it was the first time she’d been out, or even her first time to this particular place. This time she was free though. Not under guard. Not in disguise. She held her head high as she strode across the compound. An Outcast no longer, she was Erika Raeder, Hero of the City, and she had every right to be here.
“Keep up that front,” she told herself for the hundredth time. “Don’t let them see defeat on your face.” She fought back a frown as she remembered the judge’s cold, emotionless voice.
”After reviewing the applications from both parties, as well as a sealed statement from the subject himself as delivered by Ms. Wirtz, it is the decision of this court that Stephan Raeder shall remain a Ward of the State of Rhode Island until his eighteenth birthday. Both applications are denied. In the interim, we shall support the recommendation from Child Services that Stephan remain in the care of the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning to pursue his continued education.”
Was it a win? A loss? It had only taken her a few moments to decide on the latter. H.I.A.L.’s attempt to seize custody had been thwarted, but they retained control of him for another ten and a half months. Meanwhile, she herself had been denied guardianship. His own sister! How could that be seen as anything but a stinging defeat?
”This is ridiculous!” she cried, shocking the courtroom by leaping to her feet. A few of the bailiffs were reaching for their weapons, and movement in the audience revealed just how many of the onlookers were really Ferrat-Hollindale security. Erika ignored them all, splitting her attention evenly between the judge and a smug looking Doctor Lawton. “I haven’t seen my brother in almost two years. Or talked to him. Hell, they won’t even let me e-mail him. He’s my brother, dammit! You can’t keep him away from me. You have no right!”
To her left, a nervous looking Kevin was beginning to slowly slide his chair away. To her front, the judge looked angry, gripping her gavel tightly and obviously considering some kind of contempt charge. It was Lawton to her right who finally defused the tension by speaking once again in that calm, confident way of his.
“But you can see him, Miss Raeder. You may visit him any time you wish…”
The Class Nine visitor’s pass had been waiting for her when she arrived. They only went up to Ten, someone had mentioned, and those were only for Ferrat-Hollindale board members and four-star or higher military personnel. Statesman himself was given a Nine when he visited last year they said. Manticore had only warranted an eight. Erika didn’t give a damn about the numbers. All she cared about was that the doors kept opening as she strode through the corridors of the Institute’s main building. They hadn’t changed a bit since her last visit, except maybe that there were even more guards on duty this time.
None of them challenged her, though. Lucky for them.
Idly, she wondered if Martin Landseer was still the Admissions Officer, or if he’d been fired for almost letting two infiltrators into the School sector. Some kind part of Erika felt a smidgeon of sympathy for the man. She knew now that Timothy had been playing with his mind. In fact, Timothy had done a lot of clever things to almost get them in here. The burden of an unpaid debt weighed on her mind. She’d made numerous half-hearted attempts to apologize to the troublesome boy, but she didn’t feel like she’d got through to him. Just one more thing she needed to take care of in the time she had left…
“Hello Miss Raeder,” a voice cut into her thoughts. “Or may I call you Erika?” It was Doctor Lawton, sporting a welcoming smile and a cheerful attitude. “My name is Lawton, if you don’t remember, but feel free to call me Ronald. Welcome to the Institute. May I say this visit is long overdue.”
“Thanks, umm... Ronald. Erika is fine, I guess.” She nodded politely, determined to remember that this man was her enemy. He was certainly laying it on thick, anyway. Saying her visit was long overdue when it was his administration that vetoed her constant requests for voice communication. Sure, they’d claimed they were respecting the court-issued restraining order, but she knew there was something fishy going on here. So why all the friendly talk now?
“If you’ll just follow me this way, there’s someone waiting in my office who is very anxious to see you.” The words hit Erika so hard she didn’t even have a chance to inwardly smirk at the Doctor’s fake camaraderie. Stephan. Her brother. Waiting on the other side of that door. She had to restrain herself from breaking into a run, and even so managed to brush the Doctor aside in her haste.
“Erika?” a surprisingly deep voice asked as she burst into the office.
He was taller than she remembered. Taller than her, even. And surprisingly healthy looking. Some detached part of her brain speculated that H.I.A.L. must have pretty extensive physical training facilities to go along with all their fancy labs, and that Stephan must be making good use of them. He was still pale as a ghost, however, and his messy hair still as red as a carrot. And the eyes hadn’t changed. They still saw too much and said too little as always.
“Stephan!”
She couldn’t help herself. She ran across the room and swept him into a crushing hug.
“Oh my god, Stephan. I’ve missed you so much!”
It felt so strange to be out of the city. Not that it was the first time she’d been out, or even her first time to this particular place. This time she was free though. Not under guard. Not in disguise. She held her head high as she strode across the compound. An Outcast no longer, she was Erika Raeder, Hero of the City, and she had every right to be here.
“Keep up that front,” she told herself for the hundredth time. “Don’t let them see defeat on your face.” She fought back a frown as she remembered the judge’s cold, emotionless voice.
”After reviewing the applications from both parties, as well as a sealed statement from the subject himself as delivered by Ms. Wirtz, it is the decision of this court that Stephan Raeder shall remain a Ward of the State of Rhode Island until his eighteenth birthday. Both applications are denied. In the interim, we shall support the recommendation from Child Services that Stephan remain in the care of the Hollindale Institute for Advanced Learning to pursue his continued education.”
Was it a win? A loss? It had only taken her a few moments to decide on the latter. H.I.A.L.’s attempt to seize custody had been thwarted, but they retained control of him for another ten and a half months. Meanwhile, she herself had been denied guardianship. His own sister! How could that be seen as anything but a stinging defeat?
”This is ridiculous!” she cried, shocking the courtroom by leaping to her feet. A few of the bailiffs were reaching for their weapons, and movement in the audience revealed just how many of the onlookers were really Ferrat-Hollindale security. Erika ignored them all, splitting her attention evenly between the judge and a smug looking Doctor Lawton. “I haven’t seen my brother in almost two years. Or talked to him. Hell, they won’t even let me e-mail him. He’s my brother, dammit! You can’t keep him away from me. You have no right!”
To her left, a nervous looking Kevin was beginning to slowly slide his chair away. To her front, the judge looked angry, gripping her gavel tightly and obviously considering some kind of contempt charge. It was Lawton to her right who finally defused the tension by speaking once again in that calm, confident way of his.
“But you can see him, Miss Raeder. You may visit him any time you wish…”
The Class Nine visitor’s pass had been waiting for her when she arrived. They only went up to Ten, someone had mentioned, and those were only for Ferrat-Hollindale board members and four-star or higher military personnel. Statesman himself was given a Nine when he visited last year they said. Manticore had only warranted an eight. Erika didn’t give a damn about the numbers. All she cared about was that the doors kept opening as she strode through the corridors of the Institute’s main building. They hadn’t changed a bit since her last visit, except maybe that there were even more guards on duty this time.
None of them challenged her, though. Lucky for them.
Idly, she wondered if Martin Landseer was still the Admissions Officer, or if he’d been fired for almost letting two infiltrators into the School sector. Some kind part of Erika felt a smidgeon of sympathy for the man. She knew now that Timothy had been playing with his mind. In fact, Timothy had done a lot of clever things to almost get them in here. The burden of an unpaid debt weighed on her mind. She’d made numerous half-hearted attempts to apologize to the troublesome boy, but she didn’t feel like she’d got through to him. Just one more thing she needed to take care of in the time she had left…
“Hello Miss Raeder,” a voice cut into her thoughts. “Or may I call you Erika?” It was Doctor Lawton, sporting a welcoming smile and a cheerful attitude. “My name is Lawton, if you don’t remember, but feel free to call me Ronald. Welcome to the Institute. May I say this visit is long overdue.”
“Thanks, umm... Ronald. Erika is fine, I guess.” She nodded politely, determined to remember that this man was her enemy. He was certainly laying it on thick, anyway. Saying her visit was long overdue when it was his administration that vetoed her constant requests for voice communication. Sure, they’d claimed they were respecting the court-issued restraining order, but she knew there was something fishy going on here. So why all the friendly talk now?
“If you’ll just follow me this way, there’s someone waiting in my office who is very anxious to see you.” The words hit Erika so hard she didn’t even have a chance to inwardly smirk at the Doctor’s fake camaraderie. Stephan. Her brother. Waiting on the other side of that door. She had to restrain herself from breaking into a run, and even so managed to brush the Doctor aside in her haste.
“Erika?” a surprisingly deep voice asked as she burst into the office.
He was taller than she remembered. Taller than her, even. And surprisingly healthy looking. Some detached part of her brain speculated that H.I.A.L. must have pretty extensive physical training facilities to go along with all their fancy labs, and that Stephan must be making good use of them. He was still pale as a ghost, however, and his messy hair still as red as a carrot. And the eyes hadn’t changed. They still saw too much and said too little as always.
“Stephan!”
She couldn’t help herself. She ran across the room and swept him into a crushing hug.
“Oh my god, Stephan. I’ve missed you so much!”
Once an Outcast, always an outcast...