Electra

Miss Americana's eyes widened. "That's... that's definitely a concern, yes," she managed. "Omegadrones on the moon is really something that should be dealt with posthaste." She looked substantially less relaxed now, sitting straight up in her chair and looking at the screen. "Might I suggest, though, that an actual landing party might be inadvisable, especially if we don't have numerical data? There are any number of weapons whose payloads couldn't be discharged on Earth that we could use against this incursion, even taking into account the presence of Farside City. They haven't taken control of that, have they?" she asked with sudden dread.

For all Trevor's occasional missteps, this time Erin turned to him and hugged him back, tightly as she could without injuring him, resting her face against his shoulder. She was quiet for a long few moments as her body shuddered but no tears fell. Finally she took a deep breath and muttered, "God. If we get out of this and get home, I am just going to... to go into the Doom Room, and f***ing throw everything." She laughed, but there wasn't a trace of humor in it, then went on with the words almost jumbling together. "We don't have time for me to deal with any of this, and it's not even important compared to what's at stake. But I had to come, and if we do live I'll be glad I know, but it's so hard..." Her fingers flexed once against his skin before she released him for fear of letting her own control slip any further. She took a ragged breath and scrubbed her face with both hands, then looked up again and met Trevor's eyes. "I'll be glad to know," she said again, sounding calmer. "I need to grab a couple of things from the house, then I'll be ready to go. There's a Cabela's not too far from here, we can hit it up on the way back and get some decent camping supplies. Sage is pretty much done in, and she's not going to rest if we're coyote camping or bivouacing." Thinking strategy helped, getting her mind back on the mission helped. "I don't think I'll have a chance to get back here though, and there are some things I'd like at least a shot at taking with me." Erin took a reusable grocery bag from the kitchen closet and led the way back through the house, detouring into the living room past an animal-ravaged sofa and loveseat to dig into a cabinet next to the dead black face of a big-screen television. Some of the tightness in her face eased when she found what she was looking for, a fat photo album, still undamaged. She tucked it into the bag and headed upstairs, testing the steps for structural damage to make sure neither of them would risk a fall. All the doors along the hallway were closed, but this floor seemed less afflicted by weather and animals. She took a deep breath, rather like a diver preparing to go deep, and walked along the hall, opening the doors as she went. She had to see if it was all like she remembered. The first room was Megan's pink ruffled princess bedroom, and it looked shockingly like it had when they'd left. Dusty now, of course, but with the door closed and the window intact, it had been spared most of the ravages of time. Erin could look at the pile of small clothes, plastic ponies and dolls scattered on the bed and remember how she'd argued with Megan over which of those would fit in her single suitcase. She squared her shoulders and closed the door again. Nothing in that room belonged to her, she couldn't take it. Crossing the hall, she stepped into her parents room, where the bed was tidily made, all the drawers and closets and surfaces carefully organized. She went straight to the dresser and took her mom's enameled jewelry box, putting the whole thing into the bag. There was a small bottle of perfume on the dresser next to it; Erin lifted it, sniffed it, but then set it back down. Too fragile, too likely to break. Her dad's grandpa's pocketwatch was in his sock drawer, she tucked that into the box as well. She'd turned to go back to the door when she saw the envelope on the bed. To My Lovelies, it read, in her dad's clipped programmer handwriting. Erin picked it up and turned it over to open it, then put it in the bag instead. There were limits on how much she could take in one day. Stepping out, she carefully closed that door as well, then went into her own bedroom. This was weird, like stepping into a time capsule of when she'd been a very different person. Boy band posters with curling corners hung on the walls, makeup and hair products lay scattered across a vanity whose mirror was edged all the way around with snapshots, and a bookcase was crammed full of novels of questionable literary significance. The girl who had owned this space had been someone with many dreams and few problems, with a future planned that was far different from the way things had turned out. Erin went to the vanity and began plucking the pictures from their anchor, dropping them into the bag. She stopped when she took one particular one down, one that was obviously a younger Erin with her arms slung around two other girls, all of them grinning like fools for the camera. "This was my best friend Kathi," she said aloud, pointing to the girl on the left. "The other Erin has this exact same picture. I could've gotten a copy from her and it would've looked the same, but it wouldn't have been the same people." She finished her job, then looked around the room once more. So many things that held memories, there was no way to choose. She'd have to settle for just the memories. "Okay," she said. "That's it."

"Hello, Murdock," Miss A said, giving the quiet man a warm smile and stepping forward to take his hand. "It's nice to see you again. You're looking well! I didn't expect to see you here, but I'm sure we're all very interested to hear more about what's going on." She took a seat at the conference table, crossing her long legs gracefully as she turned her chair to the viewscreen. "I can't say I've been there personally," she allowed at the question about the moon, "but in theory I shouldn't have any trouble operating there. Should we infer from the question that this mission might involve a field trip?"

Wordlessly Erin held out her hand for the gun, taking it and handling it with the air of someone who'd had some experience, her face expressionless. Turning it over, she looked at the butt, then opened it and let the single remaining bullet fall into her open hand. "This was Dad's gun," she murmured. "He always kept it locked in the safe and unloaded. Two bullets, one shot, and the door was locked." She turned to look out over the backyard and saw what he'd have seen, the wooden treehouse playset he'd built Erin and Megan, the half-finished greenhouse he'd sworn he'd finish up soon, both now all but swallowed under the greenery. She set the gun down on the counter and braced herself against the ledge, letting it all sink in. "He did it himself," she finally said, her voice a little hollow. "He knew he had the flu, and nobody survived that. Maybe it was right after we left, or the next day. I had dreams," she told Trevor, "where he was delirious and dying and crawled into the kitchen looking for water, or for us, and couldn't get anything. That he lay there for hours or days and called for us. But he didn't." She took a long breath, let it out. "It was clean. It probably didn't even hurt for more than a second."

Stesha blanched at the influx of messages, then grabbed a notepad and began making a list. Within ten minutes, she had a whole spreadsheet of messages that were stale, urgent messages to return, people who needed to be talked to, and things that weren't quite as bad. Both Fleur de Joie and Dark Star had a lot on their plates, it seemed. She began making phone calls, keeping one anxious ear out for baby cries. By the time Derrick arrived home, Stesha was in costume and waiting. Her usual costume still didn't fit, but she was making do with an unfastened cowl over green clothing, which was close enough. "I have to go out," she told him, "got a couple of emergencies to handle myself. Here are your messages." She handed him the notepad. "Ammy's sleeping, but she'll probably wake up soon. There's some milk in the fridge for her, and new diapers on the third shelf. I'll be back in a couple hours, hopefully less. Love you!" She gave him a quick kiss and was gone, swallowed up by one of her own flowers.

"See you soon," Stesha responded with a smile, shifting the baby into one arm as she rose from her seat. Feeding Ammy would soon result in a diaper change and hopefully a nap in her little flower-bedecked wooden cradle. Stesha was grateful that so far the infant hadn't manifested any visible powers, including resistance to sleep. They had a checkup scheduled soon with Dr. Archeville, who would surely be able to tell them more about what they might expect in the future, but for now she was entirely in love with her green-haired and otherwise perfectly normal little girl. Even when, like today, a meal was followed not by a sedate nap, but by a spitup and soaked-through diaper. Stesha wondered again as she put the baby in a third outfit for the morning how hard it would be to get a washer and dryer on Sanctuary. After changing, fussing, singing, and swaddling, the baby went down into her cradle, and Stesha headed for the living room again. She finally collected the breakfast plates and washed them, then looked at the communicator on the shelf. Derrick hadn't actually had time to see if there were any messages. She ought to check. Taking the device of the shelf, she turned the ring volume down and turned it on.

Derrick had barely finished powering up the communicator when it began cheeping urgently at him. "Dark Star, this is ASTRO Labs, ASTRO Labs calling Dark Star, can you read? Sorry to interrupt your time off, but we've got a major experiment on the line and our gantry crane is down for the count. We need you to come move a few hundred tons of metal before it falls into the Atlantic Ocean. Dark Star, do you read?" From her chair, Stesha rolled her eyes in amusement. "I don't know how those people get by even one day without you," she commented. "I guess it's nice to be needed."

Erin considered the offer for a moment, looking sightlessly down at the fading pattern on the kitchen tiles. She remembered when they were new, and how she'd gotten in trouble for rollerskating in the kitchen and scratching a couple of tiles. Now wasn't the time, she knew. If they got out of this, when they got out of this and had saved the word and gone back to Prime, then she could spend the time to unpack all the memories that were crowding in on her. For now, though, she had to stay on target. Nodding, she stood up, moved aside to let Trevor in. Her eyes were a little wide, her blinking a little frequent, but she was holding it all together for now. "I don't know very much," she told him. "Our next door neighbor broke in the door looking for food and supplies, because the quarantine made it hard to travel anywhere. He found my dad on the kitchen floor, and it was early enough then that someone still came and buried him. There must be mass graves somewhere, probably outside the city, I guess. I just... if I knew what happened to him, then I would know."

"Maybe you could alter the squeaky rattle's molecular structure and reform it into the communicator?" Stesha suggested, not terribly helpfully. She shifted to one side and put her hand down in between the cushion and side of the recliner. "Oh, here it is. Must have fallen down." She passed it over to him, then shifted Ammy to her lap and began patting her back. The baby sprawled over Stesha's supporting arm like a wide-eyed beanbag, but eventually essayed a loud belch. "You're not going to take on any more intergalactic missions for awhile still, right?" Stesha asked.

"Umm," Stesha began uncertainly, looking around the living room. "I think I had it yesterday, I used it to call my mom and ask her how to get spit-up out of upholstery. Or maybe that was day before yesterday?" she mused, rocking her chair idly with one foot while she fed the baby. She'd sort of lost track of the passage of time in the haze of parenting, but that was all right. It wasn't easy, and sometimes it was downright scary, like when Ammy was projectile vomiting milk all over her parents and the room, but Stesha could cope with that. The important thing was that they had a healthy baby, and that Derrick had been home for almost three straight weeks, a luxury she could hardly believe. Everything seemed easier when she wasn't trying to do it all on her own. But he was right, they did need to come back from the babymoon eventually. "Did you look under the swing, behind the burp cloths?"

Trevor arrived on the sidewalk facing Erin's home, in the middle of what had once been a fairly affluent middle class neighborhood. The house was big, though nothing compared to his own place, two stories with a two car garage and a decent yard that was now a calf-high wilderness of grass and brush. A basketball hoop with the net rotted away hung above the garage, and a pink bike with one training wheel was rusting on the edge of the cracked and broken driveway. The mailbox next to him was leaning at a precarious angle, but the word WHITE was still clearly visible on the side. The front door of the house was hanging open and looked like it had been for a long time, but otherwise the house's structural integrity was not too bad. It was better than its neighbor, certainly, whose roof had been caved in by a tree years ago. It wasn't until Trevor looked straight down next to him that he saw the skull just behind him on the sidewalk, bleached white and laying there innocuously as a deflated volleyball. From the look of the yard, Erin had touched down in the driveway and made her way immediately to the house, wading through the lawn as though it weren't even there. A clear path of destroyed vegetation led to the front porch, where the door creaked softly in the June breeze. Following the trail, Trevor walked into the house as well. A strong odor of mildew and mold pervaded the air as what had once been a tasteful entryway carpet that was probably not green squelched under his feet. Animal droppings littered the floors and the steps leading to the upstairs, but it was still possible to see the house as it had been, lived in and cared for, abandoned in haste and left to the elements. Clear and recent footprints in the mossy carpet led down the hallway towards the rear of the house. He found Erin in the kitchen, which had once been a spacious and open room with sunny yellow walls and broad windows overlooking the backyard playset. It had held up a little better than the front of the house, though it was probably better not to dwell too long on the faint fetid aroma from the browning refrigerator, or what had chewed holes in the four-year old boxes of cereal and pasta on the counters. Erin was crouched on the floor in front of the sink, staring at the patterns of discoloration in the tile as though she expected it to confer some secret to her. Her head whipped up as Trevor entered, her hand going momentarily to the bat at her belt. It was a mark of her distraction that she hadn't heard him coming sooner. Her face registered momentary consternation, but she obviously had no energy to spare arguing with him. Instead, she turned her face back to the floor. "I don't see anything," she admitted quietly. "I had a picture in my head of how it would be, but I forgot that this place would decay like everything else. I thought if I saw where he died, I would know how it was, how it happened. But I don't."

Wander: Graduation Day: Worn Out Places Graduation Day: End of the Beginning Graduation Day: Familiar Faces Graduation Day: Leaves from the Vine Graduation Day: The Earth Died Screaming Sleep Sound Tonight Iron Bars a Cage Fleur de Joie The Great Escape Miss Americana: Supersonic, Superhuman, Supernatural Are You Ready? One Out of All Things

Miss Americana 'ROBOT'S TOMB' AN INTRIGUING TIME CAPSULE OF FREEDOM CITY'S PAST DATELINE FREEDOM CITY: Even after a week of intense speculation and research, investigators are still baffled by the discovery of an ancient but extraordinarily sophisticated robot in a hidden vault below Freedom City. "It's a tremendous mystery," declared Dr. Mitchell Weiss, director of anthro-archaeology at Freedom City University. "The remnants of clothing and hair found with the robot, as well as other items in the vault, indicate an early 21st century origin, but the design of the robot utilizes principles of engineering that weren't seen until well into the 23rd century. Whoever created and interred the robot was either a time traveler or one of the greatest scientific minds the world has ever known." It is still not completely clear how the underground vault, a mere thirty feet below the surface of Freedom City, remained undetected for so long. Preliminary investigation suggests that at some point various city commissions incorporated information into their plans that indicated the vault's location was the responsibility of some other city office, and since nothing important appeared to be located there, it was undisturbed through decades and then centuries of city development. The discrepancy came to light for the first time last month, after Lava-Lier's attacks against Old Hanover undermined the foundation of several historic skyscrapers in the area. During repair efforts, a work crew stumbled upon the remains of a primitive stairway, covered in plaster and tile characteristic of the post-Centurion era. Unsure of what to do with their find, the workmen contacted the University, who immediately sent out an excavation team. It quickly became obvious that this was a completely undisturbed time capsule from a poorly-understood time in Freedom City history. Great care was taken to preserve the site and record its contents. The stairway led into an underground bunker full of pre-Tech Crisis artifacts such as antique computer equipments and data servers, as well as a great deal of other equipment whose use remains a mystery. The long-ago failure of pumping equipment in the vault led to water damage to many of the artifacts, which will we studied by the mechanical history department of the University. By far the most fascinating discovery, however, has been the humanoid robot found in the vault. "It was almost laying in state," reported Weiss, "on a metal table with its arms crossed over its chest, surrounded by tools and ornaments. It almost appears to have been interred with its valuables, like an ancient Egyptian." The passage of centuries affected the robot as well, eroding whatever shell of plaskin, hair and clothing may have decorated it, but scientists hope to recreate how it might have looked using samples discovered on the robotic form. "It was definitely intended to be female, the body shape is clear," Weiss says. "The quality of the workmanship, the durability of the components, this was definitely a work of art in its day. The lack of any information on it, as well as its disappearance for five hundred years, is completely baffling. We're going to have fun trying to unravel this mystery." University sources say they are unsure when and whether the Robot's Tomb, as it has been christened by the public, will be open for viewing. 'There's still so much we can learn from this robot and its surroundings, we can't move hastily," Weiss explained. "She's got so much to tell us, and we want to listen. Any robot this sophisticated must have had a brilliant artificial intelligence as well. If we can only get it functional again, she could be an invaluable resource in filling in details of 21st century life in Freedom City." Human remains were also discovered in the vault among the artifacts and equipment, but Weiss and his team believe that given their state of deterioration, it is unlikely that anything can be discovered from them. Holomovies and stills of the Robot's Tomb can be seen on the Tribune's holosite and in person at Freedom City University on any weekday from 9-5.

Fleur de Joie "Beedtime Ztory" "ALL RIGHT, LITTLE ONEZZ, IT IZZ TIME FOR ZZLEEPING," called Zzezza the Monitor, buzzing officiously into the hatching chamber. "GO TO YOUR ZZELLZ FOR REZZT NOW." Her job for this cycle was to supervise the care of the larvae in this sub-hive, which also meant looking after the juveniles once they'd pupated into their subadult forms. The larvae were easy to handle. The juveniles... "Zzztory!" they clamored, spurred into a frenzy of excitement by Zzezza's arrival. The juveniles rose into the air of the cavern en masse, several of them bumping into the walls and tumbling back to the ground harmlessly. Even the smallest bees were tough. "Tell us a zztory, Zzezza! Pleazzzz?" The thirty or so juveniles, each half the size of their caretaker, seemed unlikely to settle down without some cosseting. Zzezza huffed out a breath, sending one of the newly-pupated juveniles tumbling end over end, giggling. "ONE ZZTORY," she allowed. "ZHEN REZZT, AND NO COMPLAINTZ." This was met with another wave of excitement, but the little ones quickly settled down and quieted their buzzing. Settling into a hollow in the enormous rock cavern, Zzezza folded her translucent wings and began. "TONIGHT IZZ THE ZZTORY OF THE MAKING OF THE WORLD," she told them importantly. "JUZZT AZZ IT WAZZ TOLD TO ME, AND TO MY MONITOR, AND HER MONITOR, BACK AND BACK." The little ones were impressed, rustling their wings and being quiet for the first time all day. "MANY YEARZ AGO, WHEN ZZANCTUARY WAZ NEW, ZHERE WERE NO HIVEZZ! ZHERE WERE NO FLOWER MEADOWZZ, AND NO BEEZZ! NO BIPEDZZ, EIZHER," she added as an afterthought. "THE WORLD WAZZ EMPTY AND DEAD. ZHEN ZHE GREAT QUEEN MOZZER CAME TO BUILD HER GARDEN. ZHE MADE THE GRAZZ GROW AND ZHE TREEZ ZPRANG UP FROM NOZZING! BUT ZHE WAS ALONE, AND THE QUEEN MOZZER FELT LONELY." The little bees sighed sympathetically at that. None of them had any real concept of loneliness, surrounded at all times by thousands of their fellows, but it sounded very bad. "What did zhe do?" one of them piped up with concern. "ZHE QUEEN MOZZER WAZZ WIZZE," Zzezza assured her charges. "ZHE KNEW ZHE NEEDED AMAZZZING BEETURES TO ZZHARE HER WORLD. ZHE HEARD OF THE FIRST GIANT BEEZZ, WHO LIVED IN A WORLD FAR FROM HERE. ZZHEY HAD NO HIVEZZ, ZZHEY WERE ZZLAVES WHO HAD NEVER TAZZTED FREEDOM OR GIANT FLOWER MEADOWZZ." The horror of this sent a ripple through the listening juveniles. "ZHE GREAT QUEEN MOZZER FELT PITY FOR ZHEZE ZZAD BEEZZ AND BEEZIDED TO MAKE A HOME FOR ZZEM IN HER GARDEN. ZHE BROUGHT ZHE BEEZ TO ZHE WORLD AND MADE THE FLOWER MEADOWZ FOR THEM, ZO THEY WOULD NEVER GO HUNGRY." A small cheer went up from the audience at that. Gratified at the response, Zzezza continued the tale. "ZZHE CALLED ON HER ALLIEZZ TO HELP HER MAKE ZHE FIRZZT HIVEZZ. ZHE CALLED ZHE ZPIRIT OF ZHE EARTH, WHO BUILT ZHEZE HIVEZZ WE LIVE IN WIZH HER OWN HANDZZ, ZO BEEZ WOULD ALWAYZZ HAVE ZHELTER. ZHE CAME TO LIVE ON ZHE WORLD AZ WELL, IN A CAZZLE IN ZHE ZKY. ZHEN ZHE QUEEN MOZZER CALLED ZHE ZPIRITZ OF ZHE AIR, WHO TAUGHT ZHE BEEZ TO FLY HIGHER AND FAZZTER ZHAN ANY OZZER CREATUREZ, AND ZHE ZPIRIT OF FIRE, WHO TAUGHT ZHEM TO ZING ZHE ZPECIAL ZONGZZ, AND TO BREAZZE FIRE AGAINZT ENEBEEZZ." Another cheer rose at that, with a few of the juveniles blowing puffs of smoke that would one day become fire breath. "AND ZHE QUEEN CALLED HER DRONE, WHO WAZZ ZHE POWERFUL ZPIRIT OF DARKNEZZ, TO PROTECT ZHE WORLD AND BRING ZHE NIGHT AND ZHE DAY IN ZHEIR TURNZ. TOGEZZER ZHEY RULED FOR MANY ZYCLEZZ OF WINTER AND ZUMMER. AZZ TIME PAZZED, ZHE QUEEN MOZZER RAIZZED HER OWN BROOD AND DEZIDED IT WAZ TIME TO REZT. ZHE WENT TO ZZLEEP IN ZHE GREAT FLOWER MEADOW AT BEEDOM ZITY, AND ZANK DEEP INTO ZHE GROUND." Zzezza flicked her antennae wisely at the look of awe from the youngsters. "ZHE IZ ZTILL ZHERE TODAY," she continued, "REZZTING UNTIL ZHE IZZ NEEDED. ZHE WATCHEZ ZTILL OVER ZHE GARDEN WORLD, AND ALL ZHE BEEZ. IN ZHE ZPRING, IF LITTLE ONEZ LIKE YOU GO OUT IN ZHE MEADOW ON A ZUNNY DAY AND DANZE BEAUTIFUL DANZEZ, MAYBE ZHE WILL ZEE YOU AND OPEN A FLOWER JUZZT FOR YOU." She fluttered her wings for emphasis, and to signal the end of the story. "AND NOW IT IZ TIME TO REZT," she told them all firmly. "ZHE QUEEN MOZZER REZTZ, AND ZO MUZT YOU." Obedient this time, the little ones flew up to their cells in the giant honeycomb walls, settling into the sleeping chambers for the night and checking on the larvae who waited there as well. As they groomed their feelers and feet for the night, they were full of murmured stories and questions about the Queen Mother and the beginning of the world. Satisfied, Zzezza left them to it. She had been a little one not long ago, and she did remember what it was like.

Stesha was pretty tired and there were many other well-wishers in the wings, so no one stayed too long in the bedroom. Even so, the party shaping up outside was enough to stick around for. Stesha's baby had been an eagerly awaited arrival to Sanctuary, and both the bees and the human occupants were ready to celebrate. Between baked goods, fresh fruits and vegetables, and the potent fermented honey that the bees had decanted into containers and brought along, it was quite a shindig, one that went on into the evening. Adding to the festive atmosphere was the fact that Sanctuary itself seemed to want to get into the action, with flowers blooming riotously everywhere, adding color and scent and atmosphere. For a day that had started out rather inauspiciously, it was an especially nice ending.

K. Erin Hunter from Holopedia, the free 3-D wikcyclopedia Keeley Erin Hunter, better known as Erin Hunter or the superheroine Wonder (ca. 1992- February 17, 2054) was a minor costumed hero in Freedom City during the post-Centurion era of the early 21st century and the first openly metahuman Secret Service agent. She is best known for sacrificing her life to protect President Linda M. Chu during the Grue Unity Invasion of 2054. Hunter successfully repelled an entire invasion fleet and kept it from descending upon the White House for over an hour while the President was taken to safety, but was killed in the fight. She was buried in Old Arlington National Cemetery. Life Little is known of Hunter's early years. She was born Keeley Erin White (or Erin Keeley White, according to some accounts) in Seattle, Washington in 1992, and attended college at the University of Washington before moving to Freedom City. While living there, she manifested metahuman abilities including phenomenal strength and endurance, flight, invisibility, fear projection, and pretercognition. She used these skills to become a costumed hero, a common avocation for the superpowered even then, and took on the moniker Wonder (or Wander, according to some sources). Contemporary records hint at personal tragedies in her early history, but there is no indication of what those might have been. Hunter continued hero work in Freedom City through the mid- 2020s, always under a pseudonym. During this period she married a wealthy local philanthropist named Trevor Hunter. The couple had several children in the 2020s, and remained married until Erin Hunter's death. Somewhere around 2025, Erin Hunter joined the United States Secret Service, the elite federal agency charged with protecting the nation's highest officials. In order to join the agency, Hunter had to reveal her secret identity, making her the first openly serving metahuman in the Secret Service. She was credited in the foiling of several assassination attempts over the next three decades, including an attempt by a Grue infiltrator posing as Vice President Michael Harris in 2037. Some historians theorize that the mere presence of a former superhero was enough to forestall a certain amount of violence against those she was assigned to protect. 2054 Invasion Main Article: Grue Unity Invasion of 2054 During the planetwide Grue Invasion on February 17, 2054, an entire battle fleet of Grue ships descended over Washington D.C, intent on capturing President Linda Chu and members of the Cabinet who were in the city at the time. The fleet destroyed the Army and Air Force units initially scrambled to fight them, but were stalled in the air by Hunter's singlehanded assault on the invaders. Flying and leaping from ship to ship, she damaged each one sufficiently to take it out of the fight without sending them crashing into the overcrowded city below. Estimates of Grue casualties range from twenty to fifty ships so disabled in the thirty minute air battle. During the fight, other agents and superheroes had time to evacuate the President and her family as well as other high-level officials from Washington DC. With the air battle at a standstill and with other metahumans coming to assist in the defense, the lead Grue ship changed its tactics and launched a suicide dive at the White House itself. Hunter moved to intercept, throwing herself at the giant vessel and knocking it off course so that it crashed into the grassy expanse south of the building. Due to her position at the ship's prow, Hunter hit the ground with the ship and was badly injured by the impact and then by the high temperatures and radiation of the burning Grue fuel core. She was pulled from the wreckage but died at the scene of the crash. She was sixty-six years old at the time of her death. Legacy Erin Hunter was buried with full honors at the old Arlington National Cemetery, in a location that has since been lost to time. There are records of Secret Service agents being cited with the Hunter Award for Valor into the mid-twenty-second century, when that organization was folded into the Governmental Protection Bureau. An impervium plaque still stands on the grounds of the Hunter Museum in Freedom City, where she lived during her Freedom City career.

"There are some odd genetic markers that I wouldn't expect to see in a typical workup," she told him, not sounding particularly concerned, "and an anomalous energy reading that may well be from your suit even in its deactivated state. For now it's nothing to be to worried about, just something to keep an eye on in future examinations." With those reassuring words, she gestured him back to the table. "All right, I'm going to run the same scan again, with the suit in place this time. Sharl, would you monitor the test while I go get my EMP spectrometer? I'll be just a moment." She headed out of the room, leaving the two teenagers on their own.

"You learn a lot more than academics in high school, Cole," Miss a told him with a smile that was maybe just a bit rueful. "It's also the first major proving ground for social skills, and if you're lucky you may make friends who last a lifetime. You'll definitely learn how to deal with people who are very different from you, which is vital for all heroes." She made notes on an electronic pad as she spoke, keeping an eye on the readings. "You're in good shape," she told Cole. "Not exactly all the readings I'd expect to see from someone your age, but nothing that looks dangerous. Go ahead and suit up again."

There was a noticeable moment of silence over the comm, much longer than could be explained by mechanical delay. "I have to see," Erin's voice came back over the line, tight and controlled. "We haven't got much time to waste, I know, and you've got work to do It'll just... I won't be long. I'm already there." She cut communications again, the beep on the end indicating that she'd turned off her communicator beacon.

"Either or both are a possibility," Miss A told Sharl, a hint of gentle reproof in her voice, "but Cole has told us he can't remember, and that's not what we're here to find out today. There are scientists and psychiatrists who are doing amazing things in repairing the sort of damage that causes amnesia, perhaps they'll be able to help you recover your life," she suggested to Cole. "Go ahead and lay down, close your eyes if you like. The machine is going to do a painless, noninvasive bioscan of your entire body. You may feel a little bit of warmth, but no more than that." She activated the large machine, which began humming and shining a beam of blue light onto Cole's form

Wander became very still as she listened to what had become of her world, of the Freedom City she'd spent months scouring for parts as the only living soul. She'd imagined it more than once falling into decay and then into dust, but she couldn't have imagined anything like its real fate. She hoped against hope that when the Doctor Atom here had shut down his program, he had made it completely irrecoverable. The Terminus had killed her world, and now they were infesting it, using it as a tool for destruction on an unthinkable scale. "We'll bring them down," she promised the Furion, color returning to her face in the form of feverish blots of pink on her cheekbones. "They'll be very sorry to have tried anything here." She looked over to Sage. "I know where some camping supplies stores are in the city. Some of the stuff should still be good after a few years, but you definitely don't want to try sleeping in any of the buildings. It's not good." She looked at the others, looked at Trevor. "I have... I've got to do something quick. I'll be back in a few minutes." With a single leap she was gone, high in the sky and heading for the husk of Seattle's suburban ring.

"Very nice," Miss A said approvingly, "but you can go ahead and switch back to civvies for the moment. I want to get baseline physical readings for you without the suit first, and then see how the readings change when you're in the suit. I know the government has already made exhaustive tests on the suit, but these tests today are for your benefit. If you were to get hurt at school or out doing hero work somewhere, it's likely you'd come to us or to ArcheTech for treatment. I work at both places, so I can make sure we have up to date readings on you that will let us treat you in a more informed way. I hope you'll never need the service," she added with a wry twist to her perfect lips, "but heroing is a dangerous profession." She warmed up another machine that had gone into standby mode, then nodded to the bed. "Jump on up there whenever you're ready. Now you say you built the suit yourself? That's quite an accomplishment."

"That's great then," Miss A told Cole pleasantly. "Would you like a drink or a snack before we get to work? There's a minifridge and a basket of cookies and crackers over there on the counter." She gestured towards it even as she turned to begin shifting a few more machines. She was very strong. "I hope you have your suit with you," she said, "I was told it's composed of a memetic material that can fold away into small spaces?"

"Hello, Cole." The voice, dulcet and charming, was very hard to ignore, and when coupled with the person it came from, just about impossible. Miss Americana was dressed in simple tailored blue slacks and a maroon silk blouse with a white lab coat over it, but that did nothing to temper her startling beauty. The perfect paragon scientist stepped forward and shook Cole's hand, then gestured to the exam table in the center of the lab. "We're all ready for you here. I know you probably aren't crazy about the idea of yet another examination, so I'll try to make things as painless as possible."

Wander stood guard as Midnight worked on the fallen Furion, alert to any hint of danger on the horizon. A subtle change had come over her since they landed on this dead world, a twitchy sort of watchfulness like that of a wild animal treading through ambush territory. She was alert at the best of times, but now it was ratcheted up a notch, rather like the Wander who Edge had met two years ago, but even more so. "Why Seattle?" she demanded tersely, even as Midnight finished his work. "There's nothing here to fight over!"