Individuals who do not have an "original" Minute-Man duplicate, such as Colonel Force or Harbinger, will not be listed with the added "(2)," and will just be named as normal.
Hopefully, this will clear up any possible confusion. If not, let me know.
"Ummm...." Paige begins, but is quickly cut off by one of the agents, who overheard Warbride's question.
"Well, no one, really," Hendricks says. "Not since the accident, anyway."
"The accident?" Margritte asks.
"Yeah. We were having a little mixer at Veggie's place to celebrate the anniversary of Roswell, and...." Hendricks explains.
"... when Barnes... our squad leader... grabbed this beaker I had sitting on my kitchen counter," another agent adds, interrupting. The collar of her undershirt pokes above her kevlar uniform, like it does for all G.H.O.S.T. agents, but her collar appears to be tie-dyed. "He asked what it was. I guess when I told him it was rocket fuel, he thought it was some trendy drink or something."
"He's okay, though. The doctors say he's making excellent progress, and he should be eating solid food again, in just a few weeks," Hendricks adds.
"You synthesize rocket fuel in your house?" Margritte asks, in disbelief.
"Actually, it's an apartment," Veggie says. Then, seeing the look on the Minute-Man's face, she adds, "What? Like you don't have any hobbies!"
Paige, who has been standing beside Margritte the entire time, leans in close to the Minute-Man's ear and whispers, "They're all insane!"
"Okay, so you don't have commander, but you do have names. Who are you?" Margritte asks, obviously annoyed. For the last twenty minutes, she has been studying one of the display panels erected by Squad 14. The blips and noises still don't mean anything to her, and she's beginning to think that Squad Fourteen is full of nutcases. As far as she can determine, the equipment that the squad has set up is only measuring minute changes in temperature, drafts, and possible changes in sunlight.
"I told you, I'm Hendricks," one of the agents answers. "Geez, my cousin at NASA was right. You tights really are slow on the draw."
"Fine," Margritte barks, barely able to contain her building frustration. "I want the names of everyone in your squad. Okay?"
Hendricks just stares at Margritte for a moment, her expression tense, like she's ready to dive for cover, and then she says, "Okay. Over there is Ortiz, but you already met him. He's our physicist and mathematician. That's Veggie, our expert on chemistry and metallurgy. That guy sitting by Ortiz is Sid; he's our combat guy. Electronics and computers is my bag. Oh, and over there... that's Fred. We're still not sure what he does."
Fred looks over, flashes a huge grin, and waves exaggeratedly.
"Is that everyone?" Margritte asks, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Well, yeah, except for Barnes, but you already know what happened to him," Hendricks says. "We've been a little short-handed since Mardi Gras. Who knew you could lose agents like *that*?"
Harbinger levels his dark eyes at the Minute-Man, and says, his voice resonating in a deep, powerful tone, "I know."
Meridian, not satisfied with his answer, leans back in her seat and whispers to Triage, who is sitting next to her, "This is ridiculous. Old gods? Mystical fields of insanity?"
Nexus, who is sitting close enough to Meridian to hear her whisper, just gives her a cold gaze, momentarily silencing Else.
Typhoon sits, a look of shock across his normally stoic face, as he stares at Colonel Force. It is a look so out of place that it almost seems comical.
As the news in the briefing room has grown steadily more daunting, with each new explanation, Wildcard has been slumping forward, resting his forehead on the chair in front of him. He has continued to listen, in this position, occasionally shaking his head in dismay, until he lifts his face and asks, "But... what happened to the rest of us? Was everyone at Compound 1... gone?"
Colonel Force eyes the young hero, the look on his face growing soft, even sad, as he contemplates how best to answer.
"Son, unfortunately, it wasn't that quick," he finally says. "The entire team was on a mission, and so when the Undying One attacked Compound 1, the Minute-Men were safely out of range. However, when the team attacked, in our first offensive... we lost... we lost several brave soldiers. Our Wildcard, our Mouse... they were corrupted by the madness generated by the Undying One. I guess... well, I guess their demons were already too real. It didn't take much more."
"So, they're still alive?" Wildcard asks.
"We don't know. They might be alive, but we just don't know," Colonel Force answers.
"We must assume that they are dead," Harbinger says, his voice devoid of any emotion. "The Undying One generates madness, then feeds on the destruction caused by it. The more minds that enter his control, the more powerful he becomes, as they kill and smash and destroy. The longer they stay in the field, the further and further they slip into his vile influence. Even if they haven't been murdered, in that horrible maelstrom of destruction, they are too far gone for us to help."
"You can't just give up on them," Cardinal argues.
"Yes, we can," Harbinger responds. "I've seen hundreds of worlds perish. Once the madness has corrupted you, there is no going back. There is no return. Death would be a mercy."
"Then, we have to kill it. And, I think I know of a way to do it," Mouse announces. "Using me."
"I don't understand," Harbinger says.
"Triage can heal people by molding their flesh, adding energies they need to recover. Me? I do the exact opposite," she explains. "I drain people dry."
"But that would mean you'd have to touch it," Triage interrupts. "Haven't you been paying attention? You'd go mad long before you managed to get close enough to damage it."
Mouse nods, saying, "You're right, though, I'm the first to admit I'm not totally insane anyway. But if you believe Harbinger... either we stop this thing here or it eats our world next. That's six billion people, Triage. I think I could stand being a little more insane... to save six billion people's lives. What I need is some way to protect me from the worst of it, some scuba gear, and someone stupid enough to get me close enough so that I can teleport into its lungs. With the rest of you attacking from the outside, maybe I can do some real damage before it notices me."
Meridian shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "Uh, I might be able to get close enough if my force bubble can protect us from the field...."
"That's entirely unacceptable," Cardinal says. "I will not have anyone sacrificing themselves. There has got to be a better way."
"Acceptable loses," Typhoon says, flatly.
Mouse laughs, "I'm over eighty years old; I'm damn near immortal, from what I can tell. And believe me, I have no intention of dying on this world... or any other. But, there may not be another way. At the very least, I may be able to distract it. Someone once said, "If it can bleed, we can kill it." I probably can't kill it on my own, but I can damn sure weaken it."
Harbinger, his face grave and serious, says, "The Undying One is a god. You cannot kill a god."
Mouse looks at the man as if he has spent a little too much time in the Undying One's insanity field. "Even a god has to have some kind of sustenance. You cut pug-ugly from its source of energy and I'll lay you odds he goes belly up just like you or I, if someone stuck our heads underwater."
Typhoon glares at her.
Mouse stops and giggles, and adds, "Well... you, at least. I'm a special case."
She looks around the room, taking in the expressions worn on everyone's faces, and then she shrugs, "Hey, if you can't kill a god, what's the point in resisting? Maybe I'll come out of this as a goddess... or at least, straight."
"And, you could come out of this without a mind," Triage adds.
Mouse smiles, and says, "Then, you can stop worrying about me sneaking into your bedroom, when you're asleep. Hey... anyone got a better idea?"
"Hey!" Ortiz shouts. "I don't like to be touched! Big personal space! Big personal space!"
Margritte smiles sweetly at him, then grabs his collar, drawing the fabric of his shirt collar into her fist, and then she asks them, "Let's suppose the room was moved to Acapulco. Would you be able to trace where it is? Could you trace its path?"
Ortiz looks at her fist, then up at her face, and shakes his head. "This isn't an exact science, you know. I can look at the energy signatures radiating from this spot and evaluate the physical evidence of the occurrence, but... it's all just a hypothesis, at this point."
Margritte lets got and walks away from them, shaking her head. She is beginning to lose her patience. She thinks to herself, "How the Hell do these people get anything done?"
She takes a long, deep breath, then turns back to the seated agents, and says, in clipped tones, "Let me put this another way. You, with this equipment, have picked up on some sort of energy signature. Correct?"
"You're not going to grab me again, are you?" Ortiz asks.
"No. I won't grab you."
"Then yes, I have picked up an energy signature. In fact...."
Before he can elaborate, babbling on and on, Margritte continues with her questioning. "This isn't my field of expertise, but I'm assuming that *all* energy follows the basic laws of physics and you should be able to lock onto a energy frequency, then trace it to its source. Or, at the very least, mathematically predict where it came from, and where it is going. Correct?"
"I think so."
"Then we know what to do," Margritte says. "We find the energy... we track it... and we find our team."
"We are warriors. It is our duty... our privilege... to die for our people," Typhoon says.
"Geez, Mouse," David says. "We can beat it. I know we can."
Harbinger eyes the child for a moment, then looks away.
"How does the Undying One generate the... ummm... insanity field?" Meridian asks.
"Have you been able to make contact with anyone inside of the zone? I mean, do you know exactly what it's like in there?" Wildcard interrupts.
"Hell," Harbinger states, dryly. "It's like Hell. Only worse...."
"We'll need to be a little more objective than that," Colonel Force says, turning towards Harbinger. When he turns back to face the collected teams, he explains, "The field, as we understand it, is mystical in nature, generated unconsciously by the Undying One."
War-Orphan, who has been quiet as the teams have been arguing, adds, "We have also learned that the field's strength varies, usually dropping, before it expands again. The further into the zone, the more powerful the influence of the Undying One's power is. That is why we were able to travel into the zone, to pull you through the MacDonald Gate. We believe that the field is dipping in power again, and should increase dramatically, within 72 to 84 hours."
"Can the field be jammed?" Apex asks.
"We've been working on a way to jam it, but so far, we haven't had much luck," War-Orphan explains.
"Although we do have reason to believe that we could be on the right track," Colonel Force says. He pauses for a moment, gently placing his hands on either side of the podium he is standing at, and adds, "Which is why we need to take action as soon as possible. If War-Orphan's estimate is correct, we have a minimum of 72 hours to ready ourselves for the next field increase. Which means we have 72 hours to prepare a defense against the field, and to formulate our attack plan."
"If we don't, this location may be overrun by the zone," War-Orphan concludes. "And then, all will be lost."
The corridor, by now, looks like something even Newborn couldn't dream of; a jumble of wires, computer boxes, displays and blinking lights. The effect, if you looked at it long enough, would make you dizzy, with all the flashing LEDs, screens and pulsating power cords, but somehow, both Margritte and Squad 14, find it comforting. For them, this chaotic mess is a sign of progress.
"What do you mean?" Ortiz yells over his shoulder, his nasally voice only slightly less annoying than fingernails on a chalkboard.
"This...."
"Oh, cool!" Hendricks shouts, leaning over Margritte's shoulder. "Do you know what that is?"
"I have no idea," Margritte grumbles. "But I assume you're going to tell me."
"Ah, no," Hendricks answers. "I was hoping you knew."
Ortiz lets loose with a heavy, irritated sigh, and climbs to his feet. Stepping over cables and various pieces of discarded equipment, he makes his way over to where Margritte is sitting, to look at her computer terminal.
"It's an energy signature," Margritte says. "That much, I'm sure of. I found it by cleaning up the background noise generated by every other electrical device in the base. Then, I separated it from the energy signature that we've detected, and I found this. What kind of energy it is, I don't know. Have you ever seen anything like this?"
"Yep," Ortiz answers, obviously proud of himself. "Well, not really. I read about something like it. It's a MacDonald Phase Wave."
"A what?"
Ortiz sighs, again.
"A MacDonald Phase Wave," he repeats. "At least, I think it is. I read about it on the internet."
Margritte raises an eyebrow at the young agent.
"Okay, okay," he admits. "I hacked into G.H.O.S.T.-Net, and downloaded MacDonald's papers. Geez. Is it so wrong to be curious?"
Paige just laughs.
"Most guys are only interested in ways to get in Else's pants," she giggles. "And all Ortiz wants is a copy of her data."
Ortiz flashes Paige a dirty look, and turns back to the computer screen that everyone is circled around, explaining, "If her theories are right, every dimensional crossing should create two energy signatures. There should be a residue energy wavelength left over from the dimension on the other side of the shift, and there should be a MacDonald Phase Wave, which is the energy that accompanies every dimensional shift."
"So, you're saying that the Minute-Men have been shifted into another dimension?" Margritte asks.
"Well, yeah, I think so."
"Can you figure out a way for us to follow them?"
"You mean, like to another dimension?" Ortiz asks.
"Yes."
"I'm not sure. We would need a full design blueprint of Else's dimension gate, to just get started, and even then it would be difficult. It could take months to build, and even if we did get a working model, actually using it to find the rest of the team would be nearly impossible. I mean, we have the frequency we need to track them, but if we were to make even one mistake... goof up a single calculation... we end up anywhere, lost in the infinite planes of existence that make up the cosmos. We're Squad 14... so I'm sure we could figure it out, but... it's gonna take time."
"Then you'd better get started right away," Margritte orders.
The faces of everyone on the Squad light up, like a group of children on Christmas morning.
"Paige, keep an eye on these guys, and let me know if they make any progress kit-bashing a new MacDonald Gate," Margritte orders, as she gets up, and begins to charge down the main corridor.
"Ah, sure," Paige answers. "But... where are you going?"
"It would take an incredible amount of power to shift then entire team, and the conference room, into another dimension. The last time the Minute-Men faced that kind of power, we were scattered across dimensional space. I don't doubt that Squad 14 is bright enough to figure out a way to follow the team, but when we get there... I don't think they'll be able to handle what we may find. I'm going to find some people who can," Margritte announces.
"What do you mean?" Paige asks.
"I'm going to recruit some new Minute-Men."
"We split into two teams," he answers, not hesitating. "The headquarters for the Northern Watch...."
"Canada's team, right?" Triage asks.
"Correct. Their headquarters is located in Calgary, right on the fringe of the Zone. The first team will go to Calgary to try to recruit help from the Northern Watch. This crisis isn't restricted to our borders, and just as many people are suffering in Canada, as here in the United States. If they are in Calgary, I'm sure they will be willing to join forces.
"The second team, however, will actually go into the Zone to test our jamming equipment," Colonel Force says, gravely watching the faces of the collected teams of Minute-Men. "I know that going into the Zone sounds like a suicide mission, but it is absolutely vital that we find a way to jam the influences of the Zone. As dangerous as the mission sounds, it is every bit as necessary as the risk."
Meridian is finally put the haze of the dimensional shift behind her, and she is beginning to think more clearly, asking, "What is the medium of this "insanity" field? Is it ultrasonic? Electromagnetic? Wave or particle-sourced?"
"That's a little complicated, but you will be briefed on what we've discovered, later," Colonel Force says. He pauses for a moment, then continues, saying, "I would like volunteers for both missions. Like I said, we will split into two teams, but I cannot order any of you to go into Zone. And, I cannot ask any of you to do something, that I wouldn't do myself. I'll be leading the mission into the Zone. War-Orphan will take the mission to Calgary."
Dr. Clark, who has been quiet since the team's arrival in the new dimension, suddenly speaks up, saying, "I'll go with the team into the Zone."
"Robin...?" Cardinal starts to ask.
"Psychology is my specialty," she says. "I'll be more useful in the Zone, than sitting here."
"I'll go to Calgary," Triage states. "Not to sound like the Doctor, but Mr. Red-White-And-Blue said that Calgary is right on the edge of the Zone. If anyone up there is hurt, they'll need my talents."
Network says, "I will accompany the team going into the zone."
Me too," Nexus says. "If the jamming equipment doesn't work, I might be able to use my magic to block the field's effects."
"You're powers are working?" Cardinal asks.
"Not yet," Nexus answers, "but if I get an idea of what we're facing, when my powers do return, I'll have a better idea of what kind of spell to weave."
"Ummm... I'll go with...." David sputters.
"You're not going anywhere," Cardinal snaps.
"What about me, boss?" Wallflower asks.
"Melissa, you and David are still in the Militia," he explains. "You're not ready. If you were, you'd be in the main team."
Wallflower (2), after casting a glance in the direction of her dimensional duplicate, says, "I'll go to Calgary too."
Colonel Force looks at Apex (2) and Typhoon (2), and says, "Why don't you two stay, and take care of the kids. Keep an eye on the base. If anything happens to either team, you can be our reinforcements. Got it?"
Apex (2) says, "Yes, sir."
Typhoon (2) nods.
"What about the rest of you?" Colonel Force asks.
"I will go to the Zone, as well," Typhoon says.
Colonel Force nods in the Aquatican's direction, then jots down a few notes on a clipboard he has on his podium.
"I'll go into the Zone. My powers may enable us to resist the field for at least a short time," Meridian says.
Apex speaks up, saying, "There seem to be a lot of people going into the Zone. If the army has taught me anything, it is the prudent use of resources. I'll go to Calgary and try to recruit the Northern Watch. If the situation is as bad as Colonel Force says, we'll need to prepare for the eventual attack."
"I will also go to the north," Harbinger says, the grave look on his face partially hidden by his massive cloak. "I have seen enough of the Zone to last me several lifetimes."
Wildcard sits quietly until most of the others have made decisions. "I, ummm, I'm not sure what to do. If the other me was so susceptible to the Undying One's power, doesn't that mean I'd be more likely to be a liability to the team, if I head East?"
He raises an eyebrow. "On the other hand, if there's a crazy Chris running around, I'd like to find him and help him. I know I'd want the same for me."
Turning to Colonel Force, he concludes, I guess what I'm saying, Colonel, sir, is that I'll go wherever you feel you'll need me."
Colonel Force begins to open his mouth to speak, but Else quickly beats him to it.
"Your counterpart on this world already succumbed to the field... it's too risky sending you into the zone. You'll be able to help more by working where you'll be at 100% efficiency. You should go with the other group to Calgary."
"Well, I'm going into the Zone," Mouse adds.
"No way," Meridian argues. "As I've said...."
"I'm going into the Zone," Mouse repeats, her voice more forceful and determined.
Meridian sighs, and shakes her head.
Cardinal looks at Mouse, a momentary flash of concern and sadness washing across his face, then he turns back to the Colonel, saying, "I'll help with the mission to Canada. If the Northern Watch of this world, is anything like ours, they'll be valuable allies."
Colonel Force nods, and jots down several more notes on his clipboard, before looking up to meet the gaze of the collected heroes.
"Time is important, but so is having a ready and rested team. We'll head out in the morning. For now, everyone should get some rest," he says. "With two teams of Minute-Men, and dozens of G.H.O.S.T. agents, West Haven is going to be a little crowded for a while, but we'll find room for everyone."
Cardinal nods, but and gets up, turning towards the door, but then he turns back to speak to the Colonel.
"One thing, Colonel... my team is going to need uniforms," he says. "As you can see, we weren't exactly dressed for a mission like this."
Colonel Force lets his eyes sweep over the visiting team, and he smiles for a moment, the levity of the situation lightened by what he sees.
Apex and Wildcard, the newcomers to the Minute-Men... at least in the team's home dimension... have been working out fanatically, trying to attain the level of physical fitness of the rest of the team. When they met with the team in the conference room, to discuss a surprise party for Margritte, they were still dressed in shorts and muscle shirts, sweaty from their workouts.
Wallflower, who has been spending most of her free time in the Minute-Men Transport VTOL simulator, is dressed in her trademark "G.H.O.S.T. University" sweats, a gag gift she received from Trish. And Trish is dressed in an outfit from her Minute-Gear line, wearing bike shorts and a sports bra, along with a warm-up jacket.
Typhoon sits in his seat, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, a large gold earring handing from his ear.
And perhaps even more comical is Meridian's current dress. Having just come from a grant interview, she is dressed in a rather plain business suit and heels, hardly the outfit for saving the universe.
"Most of our team here has duplicate uniforms. We'll distribute the extra uniforms to your team," he says. "Right now, let's just get some sleep."
Thanks!
To return to the G.H.O.S.T.-Net Main Page, please click here.