SG: The League #1 (Part 3 of 3)

[Whistling in the Dark]

(Continued from Part 2)

      Different packs of Ensemble wore different colors. This was one
of the Chuffington High sets. Their uniforms were maroon, with white
overlays and their dumbass hats were smooth and had visors. But they
were all the same when you were facing them down. This group was
drilling right in the middle of Charles street. The oboes were a
hair out of tune. And the Cornet players were blowing up cars and
bus stops, but what do you expect?
      They were in formation when the burst of blue light released in
the middle of them. A shockwave of pebbles, each going about thirty
miles an hour spreading outward, dispersed that quickly enough.
      "What the Hell?" one of the bandleaders shouted.
      "It's Ordinal!" a bassonist shouted, bringing his instrument up
and firing a plume of fire at the woman in blue.
      Ordinal threw herself backwards as the flame shot out, pushing
through a transgate that opened on the other side of the group. She
jumped into a tornado kick, still thirty feet from the dark band
members. A burst of Cherenkov radiation flared from both her foot
and the side of the bassonist's head at the apex of the kick,
slamming him down to the side.
      The Ensemble caught on quickly. "Get the trombonists!" someone
shouted!
      "Rush her!" someone else shouted. "She's just one girl -- and I
heard she needs to concentrate to use her powers!"
      Ordinal smiled, leaning back on one leg, moving her hands into
a smooth kata. "You could just surrender," she said. "My brother
taught me to fight, and he never much went for fighting fair."
      Six of the Ensemble screamed and charged. So predictable.
      Ordinal fluidly moved into the second form of the Kata,
arclights flaring around her. They snapped and twisted around the
Ensemble in echo, and suddenly Ordinal seemed to almost blur, she
was moving so fast. She began to blur into attacks, spin-kicking and
slapping with her hand, each strike meeting a small burst gate that
transferred her attacks across the ten foot distance to her enemies.
A blur of strikes, turns and blows turned into concussions after
concussions striking down her opposition.
      Ordinal smiled, letting the continuum shift drop. She enjoyed
shifting frames of reference to make it appear she moved faster or
them slower, but it took a lot of concentration and strength. She
turned to face the remainder--
      Trombonists! Their trombones held like rocket launchers and
they *fired--*
      Ordinal threw all her strength and focus into the moment, the
dizzying array of pure mathematics flowing through her exceptional
mind as she worked her fingers and space/time. It was as though the
whole world slowed, the fifty caliber shells slowing in the air,
surrounded by the burning powder that fired them from the brass
bells. Too many for anything *too* subtle -- she worked a broad
transgate in front of her, the entry point shielding her from the
weapons, the exit point straight down at the macadam of the street
fifteen feet behind her. She could feel the strain of the reference
manipulation, and let it drop. She heard the shells tear the
pavement behind her, throwing herself forward into a roll and
focusing perceptions, opening a small entrypoint gate near the
trombonists, the endpoint over twelve miles straight up--
      The pressure differential cracked in the middle of them with a
boom that rattled them to their boots and knocking some of their
silly hats off. Having throw them off balance, Ordinal opened a gate
underneath them, and they plunged down. The exit point was five feet
behind them, pointed down, but with a shift in reference that caused
them to smack into the pavement with a jarring impact. Ordinal
grinned, rising--
      "Kettle drums!" the bandleader cried from the heap of fallen
Ensemble minions. "Get her!"
      There was the sound of metal on metal, and a packet truck
opened its back end, letting out two giant armored bodies. They were
brass and canvas -- heavily armed and armored, jets of steam
releasing from their joints as they moved forward with 'thrum'
sounds.
      "Oh you have got to be kidding," Ordinal said, taking a step
back. They had to be several tons each--
      Far from kidding, the pair began to shoot, rotating miniguns
firing with plumes of steam. Ordinal vanished in an implosion of
blue/purple light, reappearing on the far side, emptying a pouch she
carried of ball bearings. As they began the slow turn to face her,
she threw, the ball bearings vanishing with a dozen *cracks* of blue
light, crackling around the two armored thugs and hitting with the
speed of high powered rifle shots.
      The two Kettle Drum warriors got scuffed and dented but not
seriously hurt. "Let's cut her down to size!" one shouted, a missile
tube sliding out and positioning.
      "Yeah -- better pop away, little girl!" the other one shouted.
"You don't have the *mass* to hurt us!"
      Ordinal frowned. "That's your truck, huh?"
      "What, why do you--"
      There was a *fwhump* as a transgate opened over the pair. To
their credit, they both managed dizzying profanities as the white
packet truck slammed on them, falling from twenty feet above them.
      Ordinal slowly smiled.
      And lost that smile as the truck exploded, the two finding
their feet. "You're *dead!*" one shouted--
      With a *clang,* a shining silver disk arced out, slamming into
one's helmet, reflecting off and striking the other's before boucing
off, hitting the first's armored body and flying back into the hand
of a man in grey coveralls, already in a twisting turn.
      "Hol-- it's *Trashman!*" one of the Kettle Drum warriors
shouted.
      "That's impossible -- he's dead!" the other said.
      "He's *gonna* be dead!" And the first began firing the minigun
at the man. He rolled forward, swinging around to bring the trash
can lid to bear, bullets reflecting harmlessly off even as he hurled
a paint can at the second, a viscous fluid spreading over the
criminal's visor. The second began firing. Trashman ducked and
rolled to the side, leading the gunman -- getting him to follow and
focus--
      With a hideous *screech,* the second Kettle Drum's minigun
bullets tore into the armor of the first, having focused on Trashman
to the point of losing track of his location. With a cry, he ceased
fire even as the first armored villain went down, steam and
hydraulic fluid spraying everywhere even as the first villain popped
the rescue lever and cracked the armor to escape--
      Trashman threw himself out, twisting in air to land next to
Ordinal.
      "You're late," she said
      "You ever try quickly getting a garbage packer through traffic
without attracting attention?" he said, pushing the girl down behind
a car as the still-active Kettle drum began tracking them again.
      "I can't say I have. Did Ops send you?"
      "I don't work for Ops." He judged. "Eighteen feet up."
      "What?"
      "Gate him eighteen feet in the air. His joints aren't solid
enough to handle that fall but it shouldn't materially hurt the man
inside."
      Ordinal nodded curtly, moving forward and working hands and
body in a fluid movement -- almost a dance. The Kettle drum saw her,
tracking with the minigun, only to fall through a gate at his feet,
blue/violet light searing around him. It opened eighteen feet above,
precise to the micron, and the armored man fell. There were hideous
cracks and hisses as the armor landed, the impact deforming the
metal.
      Ordinal half-smiled. "You were right again," she said, turning.
      But he was gone. As always.
      The teleporter heard cheering. She looked around to see a crowd
had formed -- far enough back not to be in great danger, but close
enough to watch the heroine fight. In the distance, she heard
sirens.
      Ordinal waved, a small smile on her face. And with an implosion
of air and a burst of particle energy, she was gone.

                            * * * * * *

      It was late in the day. Mandy walked into the elevator. "MIKE,
you awake?" she asked as she stepped inside.
      <<As always,>> the AI said, his voice perky as always. <<What's
your pleasure?>>
      "It's been a long day. I'm heading home. Load pan bay please,
and don't spare the horses."
      <<All horse sparing protocols have been *disabled!*>> The
elevator dropped. <<We're going to need to have another conversation
with the Xolchipalian embassy, you know.>>
      Mandy sighed. "I thought everything was fine so long as your
core systems were in the embassy. Not counting the walls of the
building and *very* minor pickups, this building's terrestrial."
      <<Yeah, well... I think we can hold them off. But you guys are
going to have to pay me more.>>
      "What do you even spend money on?"
      <<Look, I happen to enjoy Audible.com.>> The elevator stopped
in the Load Pan Bay. <<And here we are.>>
      "Thank you kindly," she said, though instead of walking out,
she took a small rod out of pocket and stuck it in the elevator. She
removed it and a trap door opened under her, causing her to fall.
MIKE, in the meantime, clearly showed her walking out into the Load
Pan Bay, getting into her car, and driving out. The car actually
went, a remote of Mandy's own design letting the alien AI control
the vehicle. There would even be a record of their continued
conversation.
      Mandy had to come up with new cover conversations, though. At
the rate they were having 'strained negotiations with the embassy,'
MIKE was going to end up making seven figures by the end of the
fiscal year. For now, however, she slid down a long slide down into
a subbasement. A subbasement that appeared on no plans -- it was a
fallback shelter and escape route Trashman had added after the
building had been commandeered by the Unimaginable League Amoral and
the Awe-Inspiring Force in 1996. She landed smoothly and stepped
through the cramped hallways. MIKE had no pickups down here -- while
the A.I. gladly helped where he could, they couldn't afford to have
transmissions be picked up down here. Not when there were so many
smart people in the building above.
      She walked into the computer room.
      Darrin Bates was asleep in one of the chairs.
      Mandy rolled her eyes and pushed the chair over. He cried out,
electricity sparking around him. "What--"
      "You were *sleeping.*"
      "Hey! I had a long day! Some of us need to have day jobs, you
know! I don't get paid for this."
      "None of us get paid for this, and I work longer hours than you
do. Hang on, I need to double check the Psi shield." She began
working computer controls.
      "The Psi shield? I thought you were going to recruit Doctor T."
      "No go. I sounded her out at the meeting. She's completely
against the idea of the League."
      Darrin frowned. "Damn," he said. "That could be trouble."
      "Oh yeah." She swore under her breath. "You know, there's six
messages on here for you. From when you were sleeping. Calling for
backup. Hell, Trashman had to step in because you weren't around for
Trans."
      Darrin chuckled. "Against who?"
      "Ensemble."
      He laughed full out. "I bet they crapped their fruity little
pants."
      "We'll discuss this later. When I can get my Unbreakable Brip
out of storage and beat the snot out of you." She punched a button.
"Good evening," she said on broadcast. "This is Ops, online. Nice
work tonight, League. Come on in. Capacitor's going out and picking
up pizza."
      "I am?" Capacitor said. "Hey, I'm a little light in the
wallet--"
      Mandy killed the mic. "Well, if you'd rather I tell Trans,
Maria and Dani you fell asleep while on backup--"
      "Right. Everyone eats meat, right?"
      "Last time I checked." Mandy slowly smiled, and began tracking
the movements in the city neighborhoods. It was going to be a good
night.


IS IT GOING TO BE A GOOD NIGHT?
WHAT MAKES A GOOD NIGHT?
ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD NIGHT?
IS TRASHMAN SOME KIND OF UNDEAD ZOMBIE CREATURE?
DID TRUDY REALLY SAIL STRAIGHT INTO THE *SUN?*
WHO NAMES THEIR SON *KIRBY?*

All these questions and many more will be answered -- here on "The
League," only on SUPERGUY!

Er, and the places I crosspost it.

Don't judge me.