the New Minute-Men, Issue #3 (Turn B)

For the last hour, Dr. Stauffer has been describing brain configuration theory to Margritte and Hannah, and it has been one of the longest hours of both their lives.

Sighing heavily, Margritte finally says, "What I don't understand, doctor, is why Hannah is exhibiting any paranormal abilities at all. Through the Human Genome Project, researchers are beginning to link paranormal abilities to inherited paranormal traits, similar to eye color or height. I'm not a paranormal. I've had the tests and I don't have the same helix configuration as others in the Minute Men. How would Hannah...."

Dr. Stauffer holds up his hand, and interrupts, "Margritte, I performed the tests on you and what you are saying is not at all what I've told you about your genetic make up. We've been over this a hundred times. I don't understand why you're so stubborn on this point!"

The doctor stops, smiling an embarrassed grin, and then he stands, before continuing, "You must understand the Human Genome Project has only begun to map the vast intricacies of a normal human. A paranormal throws a wrench into the whole project. It's very possible that paranormal abilities are linked to a variety of different genetic markers. The condensed helix is only signal that we know of at this point. Your brain shows marked anomalies not common to normal human minds, and...."

A warning alarm suddenly sounds and Margritte reacts immediately. "Doctor, there's been some sort of security breach. Please take Hannah to a secured area. I have to get the Minute-Men together."

"Ah, right," Dr. Stauffer says, nodding his head in agreement.

Hannah only rolls her eyes.

Margritte takes off down the hall heading towards the conference room, sending an automatic message across her comm-link to the rest of the Minute-Men to meet her there. Margritte rounds the corner and stops dead. Paige and some armored Peacekeepers stand close to the area that was the conference room, but is now only a open hole.

"What happened?" Margritte asks, turning to address the commanding Peacekeeper.

"We're not sure sir, ah... ma'am. We were alerted to this area by a tripped fire alarm and when we got here, the room was gone."

"What do you mean gone?"

"Well, you can see for yourself...." the Peacekeeper announces, his voice distorted and inhuman through the armor's public address system.

"Yes, yes, I can see for myself that the room is gone, but where is it?" Without letting the Peacekeeper answer, Margritte turns to Paige and asks, "Did you see anything?"

Paige shakes her head and asks, "Do you think they're dead?"

Margritte looks at Paige and repeats back, "Dead? Who was in there Paige?"

"Cardinal, Dr. Clark, the Minute-Men, and some of the Militia."

"Paige what were they all doing here. There wasn't a meeting planned for this morning. Oh, forget it... look I'm going to need your help. Find out who is around and get them here quickly. We need to find out what happened."

"Yes ma'am," Paige answers. "I'll get right on it."

Meridian, still more than a little confused by the whole episode, addresses the young, powered armor wearing Minute-Man: "Warbride, what's going on? Why have you brought us here?"

The young woman narrows her eyes at Meridian, tilting her head slightly, and asks, "What did you call me?"

The "new" Meridian steps forward, setting her hand on the young Minute-Man's shoulder, and she says, "Evidently, there are more differences between our worlds than we originally predicted, War-Orphan. Even with all I've discovered about spatial-dimensional physics, it still isn't an exact science... unfortunately."

"It doesn't matter, so long as they're Minute-Men," the armored heroine says, her voice grim and determined.

Mouse takes in the other group, quickly noting the obvious matches. Walking forward, she holds out her left hand, palm out, and stops in front of the robe enshrouded man, looking directly into his hidden eyes.

"I am Mouse," she says, in a soft, yet serious voice. "Since each of the other Minute-Men's alter-ego is present, you must be mine. My Hell is my past, so nothing here can match it."

She studies the man, noting his height, weight, and body language for future reference... or use, and then finishes, by saying, "We are the obvious out of place members, thus we must be meant to team up. I am a shape-shifter, you then are a magi, I think. Shall we talk?"

The mysterious man standing before the petite Minute-Man just stares at her for a moment, as if he didn't even hear her, before answering, "Perhaps later."

Christian has been slowly surveying the new group, his graceful lower jaw having dropped in a shocked "o." His left thumb involuntarily flicking the rest of his fingers, one at a time, each flick sending a tiny jet of flame into the night, disappearing an inch or two from his fingertips. It seems to be a nervous gesture, like biting his fingernails.

"This can't be Hell, Margritte," Chris finally says, in an uneasy whisper. Then, with a slow, nervous grin creeps across his face, and he jabs Trish with his elbow, and adds, "If it was, we'd have a copy of Trish running around, making wisecracks at everybody. Although Hell does suffer from a severe lack of me. Where's my twin?"

"If there is no you, Newbie-Boy," Trish quickly retorts, "then this must be Heaven."

"We don't have time for this, you two," Cardinal snaps.

Again, the armored heroine's eyes narrow, this time at Wildcard. It's difficult to tell whether or not the look on her face is one of anger, or just curiosity, as she studies his face.

Then, she says, softly, "I'm not Margritte. My name is Hannah Robbins, code-name War-Orphan. I am co-leader of the Minute-Men."

She stops, turns away, then again meets the gaze of the stunned heroes standing before her, and she continues, "I know this must be a terrible shock to all of you. I think you can tell we're a little surprised ourselves, but we need your help. There is a terrible...."

The extra-dimensional Apex presses his fingers against his ear, probably listening to something hidden from view, and he interrupts War-Orphan, saying, "Hannah, control is picking up another spike. We need to get out of here."

Wallflower shakes her head in agreement, and adds, "Tom is right. Besides, we've been in the Zone too long, as it is."

War-Orphan stops for a moment, considering their words, then tells the new team of Minute-Men, "I wish I could explain the situation to you now, but we're in terrible danger, and we need to leave this area. Please, you'll just have to trust us."

"Ma'am?" Paige asks, startling the lone Minute-Man. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"That's okay," Margritte answers. "I guess I just get a little absorbed."

"I understand," Paige says, her voice distracted, as she stares into the vacant opening. "I think I got some people who can help you, ma'am. I wasn't able to find any of the Minute-Men, so I had to go with the next best thing."

"Who?" Margritte asks.

"Squad Fourteen," Paige answers. "They're the best, they're available, and this kind of thing is right up their alley."

"Squad Fourteen, huh?" Margritte says, smiling. "I think I've heard of them. Aren't they the ones who got reprimanded by Albrecht for using agency vehicles for tracking UFOs?"

"Ummm," Paige says, stalling for a moment. Then, a little disappointment noticeable in her voice, she says, "Yes, ma'am. They also got in trouble for using agency property for hosting a kegger to celebrate Elvis' birthday, earlier this year. But... well, Albrecht wouldn't put up with behavior like that if they weren't an asset to G.H.O.S.T., so they have to be good, right?"

Warbride, her gaze still fixed on the gap where the conference room used to be, doesn't answer.

"Do you want me to tell them you don't need them?" Paige asks, a bit sheepishly.

"No," Margritte says, wiping her hands on her pants. "We can use all the help we can get; even from the infamous Squad Fourteen. Besides, I heard that was a Hell of a party."

At the front of the plane, Wallflower and the mysterious cloaked man handle the controls. Typhoon keeps them company, continually checking the position of the heroes outside, through the window in the cockpit.

In the rear of the plane, the shifted Minute-Men sit, still trying to come to terms with what has just happened to them.

Apex slowly lowers his broad form into the seat beside David Liu.

"Hey, David....."

David doesn't respond; only stares straight ahead, his face a little pale.

"David?"

"Ummm, yeah?" he asks.

"Are you okay?" Apex asks. "You don't look so good."

"I think so," David says, stuttering slightly. "This is... it's just... incredible."

"Part of job," Apex jokes, trying to reassure the young paranormal. "Just try to stay calm, and we'll get you home, okay?"

"Ummm, yeah," David answers. "Okay."

When Apex gets up, he joins the rest of the team, who are already discussing their strange, new situation. Effectively out of earshot of any of the Minute-Men of this plane of existence, they are free to speak their minds.

"It's obvious that they're under an incredible amount of stress," Dr. Clark says, as Apex sits down next to her. "Their body language, their expressions, even the way they speak; it is all a classic effect of prolonged periods of stress. War-Orphan, or whatever she calls herself, was right... whatever they're facing here... it must be terrible."

"Well, it's not just stress," Wallflower adds. "Did you see that scar on my... er... her face? And not only that, but she looked older than me. At least five or six years older."

Nexus, listening to the group talk, adds her opinions, saying, "It didn't really hit me until War-Orphan said her name was Hannah, but I believe that this dimension has a different rate of time passage than our own. Time isn't a constant, across the dimensional spectrum. I think that time moves faster in this dimension. We're seeing the Minute-Men of the future."

"You mean we've traveled through time?" Meridian asks.

"No. This isn't really *our* future, but these Minute-Men are five or six years ahead of where we are in our dimension. My guess is that the year is 2002 or 2003 here. It appears that this team is our future selves, but in truth, they are merely dimensional duplicates of us, in a world that has advanced beyond the point and time our world inhabits," Nexus explains.

"So, if time is passing more quickly here, then time is passing more slowly in our home dimension, right?" Cardinal asks.

"Yes," Nexus replies. "That's a simple take on the situation, but yes, it's accurate."

"Then we shouldn't expect a rescue attempt for quite some time," Cardinal says, solemnly. "It will take Warbride and the rest of G.H.O.S.T. quite a while to figure out what happened to us. Then, it will be even longer, before they can find us, if they can find us at all. If it takes them a week to figure out what happened, two weeks might pass here. Maybe even more."

"That depends on the break point," Nexus interrupts. "If this dimension had a break point years and years ago, then the difference between our dimensions could only be a matter of seconds. If the breakpoint was more recent, the time disruption could be quite a bit more pronounced."

"Break point?" Christian asks.

"The break point is the moment in time when history split, causing alternate realities. For example, there is probably a dimension where President Kennedy survived the motorcade, and was reelected, unlike our world where he was killed. Up to that point, our universes were identical, but once Lee Harvey Oswald pulled the trigger, and missed Kennedy, the planes of existence diverged on two separate paths," Meridian explains.

Nexus looks at Meridian, a little shocked by her knowledge on the subject, until Meridian adds, "Ukanwoke explained the theories to me."

"Ugh," escapes from Trish's lips. "This is confusing."

"Not really," Nexus explains. "Just think of this world as a living, breathing version of "what if." What if things turned out differently."

"Well, they must have turned out differently, if there is no me," Trish retorts.

"We don't know that," Cardinal answers. "War-Orphan explained that she co-lead the team, which makes it pretty likely that there are more members, somewhere else. And, it's also pretty likely that that somewhere else is where they're taking us, right now."

"If there is a version of me running around, why does Mel have that scar?" Trish asks. "I could easily fix a wound like that, but Mel had to heal it naturally. I hate to say it, folks, but that might be the answer to how this world is different."

"What?" Christian asks. "No Trish? This world is what would have happened without you?"

"No," she argues. "This world is what would have happened without a bunch of us. These people are under a lot of stress... they need our help... maybe a bunch of us aren't Minute-Men anymore. Maybe a bunch of us are dead."

"Or different," Typhoon says, nodding in the direction of his gray-skinned counterpart.

"This world isn't that different," Apex says. "My powers still work."

Dr. Clark looks at Apex, confusion clearly visible on her face.

"I've been slowly testing my powers, since we arrived here," Apex says. "Using my spatial field to sense objects, flying a half an inch off the ground. Firing energy between my hands. Stuff like that."

"When?" Dr. Clark asks.

"I've been trying to be subtle," Apex answers. "I didn't know how these other Minute-Men would react."

"Good thinking, Thomas," Cardinal says. "They may appear to be us, but we really don't know anything about them... what kind of people they are... how they may perceive sudden power manifestations."

"One thing is for sure," Mouse interrupts. "They sure have lousy taste in friends. What was that guy's problem?"

Wallflower shrugs at the shape-shifter.

"Chances are all of your powers will work just as they did in our home dimension," Nexus states.

"Our powers?" Christian asks. "Sounds like you're not including yourself in that group."

"I'm not," Nexus states. "Paranormal abilities are innate, caused by genetic alterations. No matter where you go, you take them with you. Magic is environmentally-based. If I can't draw on the right energy, I'm no different than anyone else."

"Well?" Cardinal asks.

"I'm a little disorientated, right now," Nexus says. "When I shift myself through the nexus, I know where I'm going... can account for the so-called space between my destination and origin points. Once I get my bearings, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"So, you can take us home?" Cardinal asks. "When you get your bearings back, that is?"

"I should be able to," she answers. "Assuming my powers work in this realm."

"So now what do we do?" David asks, cautiously climbing over to sit where the rest of the team are sitting.

"The only thing we can do," Cardinal tells him. "We wait."

"Sir? Sir? You can go... Sirs? Ummm...." is heard in the background, as is the sound of marching boots drawing closer and closer to the hall.

"Outta my way, grunt, we're here on official business," someone snaps in response.

"Ummm... ma'am? Ms. Robbins?"

Suddenly, the area is filled with G.H.O.S.T. agents, who quickly nudge Margritte out of the way, as they collect in front of the "hole."

"What are you doing?" Margritte shouts, as the agents start dropping and assembling equipment of their own.

"Spectral analysis, huh?" one of the agents asks. "Good idea, but too conventional. You need to look for more than that."

"Geez, don't you read any other papers than your own?" another agent asks the Minute-Man.

"Engineers," another one scoffs. "This is tights science. Throw the classic models away."

"Excuse me," Margritte says, trying to stop the horde of agents. "Who are you?"

"Ma'am," Paige says. "Meet Squad Fourteen."

"They're not going to try to land here, are they?" David asks, excitedly, perhaps a little panicked.

Wallflower, wearing her heavy scar down the length of her face, gets up from her seat in the cockpit, and announces, "We'll be landing soon, so you'd better put on your seat belts."

With that, she moves back to her seat, grabbing the stubborn flight stick between her hands.

"Do as she says, junior," Cardinal says, turning toward David.

"Yes, sir," David answers.

The plane drops suddenly, the descent controlled, but still unnerving, the surrounding mountains racing up on either side of the plane. The engines of the old plane scream, as they strain against the heavy wind.

The fall is a short one, and soon, before anyone inside of the plane has a chance to truly become nervous, the plane touches down on the cold mountain earth, bouncing slightly.

The plane slows to a stop, G.H.O.S.T. agents visible outside of the windows, scampering around the old military transport, securing the wheels, and pulling camouflage netting over the wings. Some of the agents are not wearing regulation helmets, their faces dirty and scruffy, unshaven and unkempt. Their faces also look tired.

At the rear of the plane, the clamshell doors slowly swing open, held in the powerful hands of this dimension's Meridian and Apex. War-Orphan, standing outside, shouts over the roar of the old engines, "Let's get moving, people. You'll be briefed immediately."

"Welcome to the Rocky Mountains," the Apex holding the door says, as the Minute-Men wander out of the transport.

Surveying the area, it looks as though the transport came to a landing on an old road. Nearby, the team can see what looks like an old ski cottage, and a large garage.

"Gee, boss, can we have digs this nice, when we get back home?" Trish asks, as she walks passed Cardinal.

"Oh my god!" Cardinal whispers. "West Haven!"

"What?" Apex asks the team's liaison.

"West Haven," he repeats. "I didn't think it actually existed."

"West Haven?" Meridian asks, as the team moves into the cottage.

"My grandfather, when he coordinated Squadron Alpha during World War II, was rumored to have created a second headquarters for the team, on the west coast, in case the war actually made it to the west coast. The location of the second headquarters was kept secret, and eventually, it was decided it never really existed. But, here it is... West Haven," Cardinal explains, his voice clearly filled with wonder. "I can't believe it."

"It exists on this plane, Stephen," Nexus adds, "but maybe not ours."

"Regardless, it's amazing," Cardinal says.

The team enters into the cottage, which is warmed by a steady fire, crackling and popping, seeing what could be any ski cottage common to the area. In the corner, however, a stainless steel door glistens brightly, the fire casting orange and yellow light across its reflective surface.

"What the...?" Wildcard says, looking at the door.

"An elevator?" Typhoon asks.

"To the underground levels," Cardinal says. "West Haven was created during the middle of the war. The Manhattan Project was well underway, so they must have built the compound with atomic weapons in mind... underground. Out of sight... and hopefully... out of range of atomic bombs."

The dimensional twins of the team enter in behind the Minute-Men, and War-Orphan motions toward the elevator. Then, together, both versions of the Minute-Men climb in, being lowered deep into the bowels of the earth.

"During the initial attack," War-Orphan explains, "Compound One was destroyed. Thankfully, we were overseeing a security test of Cell-Block. We managed to scrounge up the transport, and then retreated to this spot. We would have never even known about it, if it wasn't for...."

The elevator doors slide open, and standing before the team is an American icon, made real.

"... Colonel Force."

"And who are you?" Margritte asks, obviously annoyed.

"Ortiz. Agent Vladimir Ortiz."

"Vladimir Ortiz?" Margritte asks.

"Russian mother, Hispanic father," he answers. "Come on... it's the nineties."

"What are you getting at?" Margritte asks.

"I'm just saying that interracial weddings aren't that uncommon any more," agent Ortiz responds.

"No, about the energy phasing."

"Oh!" Ortiz says, smiling. "We can assume that one of two things happened to the conference room: either it was moved or it was disintegrated. The amount of energy necessary to disintegrate an area of this size would have set off alarms all over the place. Since there is evidence of energy phasing, the theory that the room was moved is further supported."

"But what do you mean by energy phasing?"

"Ortiz has a theory that under the right circumstances, energy can be manipulated to the point of being changed into another form of energy," another agent interrupts. Her uniform's i.d. tag also reads Ortiz. "He calls it phasing. And, he says that this kind of energy manipulation is responsible for phenomenon like teleportation and molecular instability that allows for travel through apparent solids."

"That's a simplification, Hendricks, but yes... basically, that's what I mean," Ortiz says.

"Hendricks?" Margritte asks.

"I didn't have a clean shirt," she answers, pulling at the i.d. tag she is wearing.

Paige leans in close to Margritte, and whispers in her ear, "Just remember, they're the best."

"So... Ortiz... what do you think happened?" Margritte asks.

"Someone moved the room," Ortiz answers.

"Moved it to where?"

"If they're lucky, Acapulco," Hendricks answers.

"I'll try to answer all of your questions," Colonel Force begins, "but please hold them until I'm done explaining the situation. Thank you.

"About two months ago, two rifts opened up, that bridged the span between our dimension, and another dimension, which we are currently referring to as the Chaos Zone."

"Chaos Zone?" Nexus asks.

"Isn't that where Superman keeps his villains?" Trish asks.

"Please, if you'll let me continue," Colonel Force says. "The first rift opened up in New York City. That rift brought Harbinger to our dimension. Like his namesake, he was only the precursor to what would come through in the second rift."

The mysterious man who met the team on the windy desert plain, dressed in his large, flowing green robes, shifts in his seat. He looks uncomfortable, Colonel Force's words weighing heavily on him.

"The second rift brought a being known as the Undying One to our world; a creature of incredible power. This creature...."

The man dressed in the green robes, stands up, interrupting the patriotic hero, and says, "You still don't understand. The Undying One is not a creature. He is one of the old gods... the shapers of the universe that predated the powers known on earth. And, even more, he is a power of pure insanity and evil."

"Harbinger, please...."

"No!" he argues. "We must not underestimate the Undying One. We must not make the same mistakes that I made, in my folly.

"I was a sorcerer in my realm. When the Undying One appeared, I assumed that my magics were powerful enough to stop him, but he swatted me aside as if I were only a toy... a momentary distraction. Then, to punish me for my foolishness, he stripped me of my powers and gave me a horrible "gift." With each realm that he destroys, I am witness. Wherever he is to appear, I first appear, to see the lives that he will destroy."

Meridian whispers to Nexus, "Have you ever heard of this... Undying One?"

"No, but there are so many rumors of old gods, beings who personify concepts of evil, that it is impossible to know. I may have heard of him, but he may have hundreds of names. The multi-verse is a huge place," Nexus answers.

Colonel Force, attempting to wrestle control of the briefing away from the emotional Harbinger, says, "The Undying One appears to be capable of generating a field that promotes insanity in anyone exposed to it. Then, he feeds on the destruction caused by those caught up in the mania. He feeds on death, the stronger he becomes, the larger and more powerful the field becomes."

War-Orphan adds, "The Undying One appeared in New York City, shortly after Harbinger arrived. Already, his field stretches from New York to Lincoln, and it's getting bigger. According to my calculations we only have a week until his field envelopes this location, and we're forced to move back."

"This field... is this what you called the Zone, back in New Mexico?" Cardinal asks.

"Yes," War-Orphan says.

"It seems to fluctuate in power," Colonel Force adds. "Currently, I believe that the field is weakening, so we have some time, but the next increase could push to this area, infecting this location as well."

"How much time?" Apex asks.

"A few days," Colonel Force answers. "Assuming it continues to behave in the same way that it has since the Undying One has appeared."

"Why did you summon us?" Cardinal asks.

"Simple," War-Orphan answers. "Your realm is next. If we don't stop him now, your planet will suffer the same fate as ours, and every other realm before this one."

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