Vanity Project (IC)

[Avenger Assembled]

October 1, 2011

The Fens

Birch Grove Elementary is the only elementary school in the Fens, the poorest district in Freedom City. Times have been tough in Birch Grove for almost as long as anyone can remember; the decades-old brick building segued smoothly from greaser kids with leather jackets and switchblades fighting over Buddy Holly tickets to being a center of the local drug trade in the bad years of the 80s and 90s. But, thanks to new leadership in the city's education department, a new community initiative that's gotten teachers involved in their education, and a recent grant from Archetech, the school has begun to turn things around in the last few years. Campus cops still patrol the corridors and some students don't make it to class because they're in juvie or just don't feel like showing up, but the hallways are clean and the students generally orderly, and they recently had a graduate go off to Harvard University for the first time: despite some ongoing problems, for the most part this hard-scrabble place is something of an educational model for the area.

Murdock had been more than a little surprised to be called to the school, but he supposed 'Caradoc', the false identity he had adopted over his Omegadrone armor, was the sort of shining knight exemplar of virtue that would have made a positive example to these students. Flying in over the school, a shining beacon of shimmering plate mail and 'dragonsbreath' jetpack, he nodded in approval at the sight of the building and the students and teachers out front: for all this school with its barred windows and iron gate looked something like a jail to most people in Freedom City, to the native of Nihilor looked a shining beacon of education. He had seen much, much worse places to learn than this, and now that the Gorgon had finally been repulsed, the young people of Freedom City could enjoy their education in peace.

Recognizing the man from the picture, the shining knight landed before Principal Werthers, a nervous-looking African-American man of about forty, and declared awkwardly, "Greetings! Citizen! I am Caradoc of Camelot, and I am here to address your student body!" Raised in gutters and alleys, 'Caradoc' thought nothing odd about all these children sitting out with their sack lunches in the chill autumn day, though even he felt a surge of suspicion at the way they looked at him with anticipation rather than delight: they were glad to see him, but they seemed to lack the fascination that most Freedom City children had with superheroes.

"Ah-hah, well, it's good to see you, Caradoc," replied Werthers, "but I'm actually waiting on two more heroes I called in for today, they're, uh, going to be here shortly and I'm sure you'll all want to go in together."

[Bishop]

“So, where’s this school again?†Mike had just poured himself another cup of coffee and sat back down at the kitchen table. Bishop had just finished helping Carol clear the breakfast dishes and was sitting at the table, putting his mask on, plugging it into the cybernetic port in his right eye socket. He’d been spending the last few nights at Mike and Carol’s house and had let them in on his Big Plan.

“It’s in a part of Freedom City called ‘The Fens.’ From my research, it's a good school where my efforts might be effective,†Bishop answered.

“And this is all part of your 'Big Plan,' eh?â€

Bishop grinned widely. “Of course! It’s all part of The Plan. Building the kind of network I envision takes time.â€

“And it takes talking to grade schoolers?†Mike asked skeptically.

“It’s what superheroes do! Sometimes. Don’t worry so much.â€

“Don... have you ever talked to a grade school class? ...in the inner city?â€

“Well, no... but, it’s not like a Philly inner-city school. Today, I just go in, tell the kids how important it is to develop their minds... I even have a speech prepared. How hard could it be? †Mike gave him a dubious look.

Five minutes later, Bishop popped up in front of Birch Grove Elementary with a soft zzzzut. Recognizing the principal from his online research after their phone conversation, he greeted him with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mr. Werthers. I’m Bishop. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.â€

He turned to the superhero standing next to Mr. Werthers. “And... Caradoc? I’ve seen you in the papers. It’s an honor.â€

[Electra]

As they spoke, a murmur in the crowd around them alerted the men to a new arrival. Moments later, Miss Americana touched down near Harrier, her golden curls fluttering in the breeze from her landing. She was turned out perfectly as always for public-relations occasions, her red, white and blue uniform seeming to nearly glow in the afternoon sunlight. After a quick wave of greeting to the kids, she turned to the principal and the other heroes with a smile.

"Hello, Principal Werthers," she began, offering the man a handshake." I'm sorry Doktor Archeville wasn't able to speak with the children today, but recent events being what they are..." She tactfully let that hang for a moment before continuing. "In any case, ArcheTech is very interested in maintaining the partnership with your school, and I'm very happy to be here today." She turned her attention to Bishop. "And I don't believe we've met before," she said warmly, giving him a megawatt smile and a handshake as well. "I'm Miss Americana." Caradoc got a smile as well, but no introductions were needed there.

[Avenger Assembled]

"It's a pleasure to see you in person, Bishop," said the principal warmly, giving the man a onceover. Though he gave a particular look at Bishop's mask and eyepiece, he seemed not displeased but delighted at the technological disguise on the man's face; Caradoc got a friendly greeting in the same vein, the principal admiring his shining armor and the mighty sword slung over his back. Up close, the looming knight seemed like something out of a techno-magic utopia, all gleaming armor and magnificent blade. Werthers, like most people, particularly straight men with a pulse, lit up at the sight of Miss Americana: "Ah, wonderful, so glad you could make it!" he beamed effusively. "Yes, this will be fine. Dr. Archeville wouldn't have worked out anyway, you know, what with our current situation..." He coughed and waved for the heroes to follow him inside.

"It is a pleasure to meet you!" said Caradoc, shaking Bishop's hand with a solid firmness. There was something a little off about the gleaming knight, but he came across as earnest rather than menacing. "I am sure we will be very inspiring to the children!" Murdock had never met Bishop before, but there was no reason not to be friendly to someone who looked like an all right fellow. "I am Caradoc of Camelot!" A sharp fellow like Bishop could recognize the name of one of Arthur's knights readily enough, though Caradoc generally did not have a dragon's head jetpack in the traditional stories.

Inside the school, the slightly flustered principal explained, "Again, ah, my apologies for the short notice, but we needed your assistance in a hurry." He fretted his hands. "Ah, we work so hard to encourage individuality and creativity these days, but children can be so sensitive sometimes..." He shook his head. "But I'm sure you three will be very good examples for Mr. Thackery."

[Bishop]

"And I don't believe we've met before," she said warmly, giving him a megawatt smile and a handshake as well. "I'm Miss Americana."

"It's an honor and a pleasure, Miss Americana!" Bishop replied as he returned her handshake. "I'm called Bishop." He smiled and added, "I guess I'm the new guy on the block."

Bishop turned his attention back to the principal. "So... 'examples?'" He then shrugged. "I'd assumed I was here to talk to the kids, but I'm at your disposal." As he spoke, he had already begun a quick Internet search for information about Mr. Thackery through the interface built into his mask. The internal "heads up display" tracked his progress.

[bg=#404040]Command: Web Search > Terms: Thackery "Birch Grove Elementary"

Command: Web Browser > Birch Grove Elementary Website > Faculty List > Bios > Thackery

[Working...][/bg]

"Whatever Mr. Thackery needs, I'm sure I'll be happy to oblige," he said, smiling warmly.

[Electra]

Miss Americana pursed her lips as she listened to the principal's recitation. "It sounds as though this isn't simply a matter of speaking to the student body," she guessed, smooth brow furrowing. Things were not ringing quite true here, and it made her... alert. Even the students outside had seemed oddly subdued. "What exactly is it you called us here for today, Principal? And who is Mr. Thackery?" She exchanged a glance with Caradoc, not easy given the Omegadrone's disguise. She didn't appreciate being blindsided, but now that they were here, there wasn't much to do but roll with the punches.

[Avenger Assembled]

Bishop's search found no Thackery on staff, but expanding his search did give him Melvin Thackery mentioned as one of the students. Young Melvin was about eight years old with a mop of red hair, glowering like only an angry little kid can glower in his file picture; everything else was sealed and would take a little more investigation to uncover. For his part, Caradoc simply took in the scenery, having never been inside a school. This one was much smaller than the ones he'd seen on television, and much quieter: it didn't take him long to realize that most of the students were still in their classrooms, and the kids inside did not look inclined to come out even to see the superheroes.

"Ahah, welll...." The principal winced. "Mr. Thackery is one of our third-graders, and he's become a bit of a discipline problem lately. Rather than just call the police and put a mark on the poor boy's record, I thought it best if I bring some superheroes here to, you know, guide him down the right path..." They were approaching the cafeteria now, where the doors were spray-painted "KEEP OUT: MELVIN", giving the heroes just a moment to react. He pushed open the cafeteria door, finally, and revealed the reason the heroes were there.

The cafeteria was dead empty save for a single human occupant: a little red-haired boy eating from an overstuffed tray, surrounded on either side by stacks of books. On either side of him and behind him were a total of three robots, crudely-constructed machines that were obviously crafted directly out of cafeteria vending machines, complete with arms and legs still bearing corporate soda logos. They seemed to be singing "Melvin is great! Melvin is great! We love Melvin! We love Melvin!" to the tune of Three Blind Mice.

"Hey! Who let the super-jerks in?!?" hissed Melvin as he looked up, his voice an angry little boy's whine. "I said I wanted to eat without anyone bothering me! I don't wanna go to school!"

[Bishop]

Bishop's one eye narrowed. His tactical mind told him to gather more information, analyze potential dangers and weaknesses, and calculate potential stratagems. But, sometimes he just had to go with his gut. His gut was telling him this was a kid who was in desperate need of some guidance; maybe even a good, old fashioned spanking. “Son... this isn’t the way to go about getting what you want,†he said in a calm and caring voice. “The way you’re going never has a happy ending.â€

He shook his head sadly and said in a low voice so that the boy wouldn't overhear him, "I think you should have given us a bit more of a heads-up, Principal. Now we have a potentially very dangerous situation. Miss Americana? I'll follow your lead, but my opinion is that we won’t be doing this boy any favors by letting him continue to... misbehave."

[Electra]

"Yes, we definitely need to stop him," Miss A murmured back, "but he's just a child. Let me try and talk to him, but you and Caradoc be ready to back me up. See if you can find anything about his parents or his background that might help us."

Putting her most persuasive smile on her face, Miss Americana stepped forward a few steps towards the boy. "Hello, Melvin," she said, her voice friendly and musical. "My name is Miss Americana. I see you're eating your lunch right now. Is it all right if I sit with you while you're eating?"

[Avenger Assembled]

For his own part, Caradoc hung back, trusting in the instincts of the others to handle this without unnecessary violence. He was no diplomat with children, not in a crisis like this.

Melvin replied to Bishop with the casual cruelty of little boys everywhere. "Looks like you should have gone down the right path, metal-face!" Melvin looked sorely tempted by the offer from Miss Americana, indecision visible on his face, before he seemed to steel himself and come to a decision. "Maaaaybe...but if you're gonna be my Raven, I need to show you I'm cool enough to hang out with! Cola-Bots, get them!"

"WE OBEY, MASTER MELVIN!" exclaimed the machines, A cola-bot obeyed his master's command, firing a soda can directly at Miss Americana that burst on impact, spinning away in a shower of store-brand diet soda. Another one took a shot at Caradoc, the impact having the same effect: absolutely zero. While Melvin's robots could probably have hurt an ordinary person, maybe a beat cop, they were no threat at all to superheroes, for all that they were gamely battering and pushing at Miss Americana now.

It didn't take long for Melvin to realize this. At the sight of his robots failing utterly, Melvin's boyish bravado crumpled. Red-faced and looking quite stricken, the little boy bolted from his chair like a rabbit and ran for the doors!

[Bishop]

Bishop casually stepped in front of the doors, blocking Melvin's way. He wasn't about to let the boy run out, but he was as gentle and friendly as possible. "You know, you got those machines of yours doing some pretty cool stuff, Melvin," he said sincerely. "What else can you get them to do?" Bishop hoped that, if the boy was channeled in a positive way, maybe they could reach some kind of resolution.

Meanwhile, Bishop queued up his software to do online research as soon as he got the opportunity. Perhaps Melvin would be busy long enough for him to learn something valuable. What kind of family life did this boy have? The principal mentioned not wanting law enforcement contacted, and Bishop agreed. Once "social services" got involved, things could down a bad path for the boy. But, maybe there were already records that could shed light on the situation like counseling notes, psychological reports, maybe electronic records of past incidents.

These things would undoubtedly be behind at least a modicum of security, but probably nothing more than routine system protections. And, if he could tap directly into the school's computer system on site, maybe he wouldn't even have to deal with that much. He focused his "electronic" attention on the school's office area.

[bg=#404040]Command: System Scan > Select Area

[searching for computer systems and networks in target zone]

[Working...][/bg]

[Electra]

Miss A sputtered in disgust as she was splattered by the sticky soda. That was going to take a long time to clean off, even if she didn't need to reskin her face for it. She closed her eyes for a moment, locking her knees to keep herself from falling over, and took control of the robots one by one, disabling the components that allowed them to be more than simple beverage dispensers. When they were all inanimate and silent again, she wiped her face with her hand and gave the little delinquent a look that wasn't quite as friendly as before. "Nice trick," she said. "Bet school isn't terribly interesting for you. That's no reason to take the mini-supervillain route."

[Avenger Assembled]

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" said Melvin: and he obviously was sorry, just not terribly penitent. Caradoc had picked up by the scruff as he'd run by, the moment startling enough to send him running back to the shelter of the beautiful Miss Americana. "Stupid soda-bots. Stupid new school. I just wanted to show them I wasn't lame and stupid like they said I was," he pouted. Focusing on Bishop, he said, "I can get machines to do anything I want with a little work. I've got a way cool lab at home where I build all kinds of stuff. You wanna see?" he asked ingenously, evidently hoping that they would take him away right then and there.

For his part, Caradoc had stayed silent during the battle, letting Miss Americana handle the robots. On a school in Nihilor, if he was actually attending one, Melvin would have been in training to learn all sorts of terrible arts alongside favored prole children and the offspring of Annihilists, making the suffering of others his best teacher. Winning the cafeteria would have been a fair victory, bloodless or otherwise. It left him with little to say to the pint-sized delinquent. "We should give him over to the educational authorities."

[Bishop]

Bishop looked to Caradoc and shook his head. "Sir Caradoc, I don't think they are equipped for a fellow like this." Turning back to Melvin he said, "And, yes, I would be delighted to see your lab! You have an amazing talent, Melvin. A real gift." He then added with a smile, "But that might have to wait until after school." With that, he withdrew to stand behind Miss Americana so Melvin's attention wouldn't be split and Miss Americana could focus on comforting and dealing with Melvin. Bishop began to take in the data about the boy now streaming to his optical nerve.

He scanned school reports of a history of behavior problems during the one year the boy had been at the school, including a vague reference to a "volcano incident." That apparently resulted in Melvin being permanently banned from the science lab. Bishop could hardly suppress a faint smile as he considered what the details must have involved. He couldn't help but think that if Melvin were around when Bishop was in third grade, they might have been pretty good friends.

Tests scores showed Melvin to be highly intelligent, which was hardly a surprise. Counseling and parental contact records suggested a nasty divorce: Melvin lived with his mother and the father was not allowed to pick Melvin up or contact him.

Also not surprising, given the principal's attitude, nothing had gotten to the point of needing to file a report with social services before that day. Bishop took note of the contact information for Melvin's mother to have it handy. He would be surprised if they didn't end up calling her in the pretty near future. Finding the answers to his questions, Bishop closed the computer files, cleaned up any sign of his presence in the system, and disconnected.

Blocked from Melvin's sight by Miss Americana, he whispered in her ear, "problems at home. Parents divorced, living with Mom. Basically on run from father for a year. Very smart, very troubled."

Bishop began considering possible options. Melvin was clearly a lot more than a public school could handle and needed more... appropriate placement. He needed guidance, challenge, and opportunity to develop his natural gifts. Clearly, calling in superheroes was a sound decision by the principal... though Bishop still thought the man really should have given them more of a heads-up.

[Electra]

"There are plenty of ways to prove you're not lame," Miss Americana told Melvin, ignoring her sticky skin and soda-sodden hair for the moment as she sat down on one of the cafeteria benches. "You've already proved you're smart. But you can be smart and still be dumb, too. What did you accomplish with all this?" she asked, waving her hand around the soiled room. "A couple of half-baked robots and all the mystery meat you can eat? Followed by what?"

Since she had his attention for the moment, she leaned in, dropped her voice confidentially, though to a level where Bishop and Caradoc could still hear. "There are way better things a kid who builds robots can be doing. You could be working in a real lab, building real robots. You interested?"

[Avenger Assembled]

"Nuh-uh, my mom says I'm not supposed to build stuff like robots and laser-pointer dogs. She says I should learn how to play with my friends and be a normal kid. I don't have any friends." He looked down at his shoes, still kicking his feet. "You don't have to tell my mom I got in trouble again, do you?" he asked hopefully, finally looking up at the adults. "She gets really sad and cries a lot when I'm in trouble, and that makes me sad too." He was a very good little performer, but he obviously didn't want his mom to find out, and was genuinely worried about her.

[Bishop]

Bishop was reasonably sure that the principal would be happy to allow the superheroes wide latitude in handling the fallout from this incident. He sat down on the other side of Melvin, so they could talk comfortably. "I would think that if you take responsibility for the mess you've made here, clean it up, and apologize to the people you've put out, there wouldn't be any need to tell your mother about what happened. I'm sure you're going to do just that, so don't worry about that.

"I understand that you are worried about what your mom thinks about your... hobby, and that you think she won't let you build your robots and other cool machines, but let's talk a bit about what you want to have happen after this, Melvin. From what I can tell, you're a very smart kid. My guess is school is boring for you and you don't fit in with the other kids. From what you showed us today, you obviously don't want to be stuck in class all day, not allowed to build stuff, am I right?"

Bishop smiled knowingly at Melvin and waited for confirmation from Melvin, then continued, "So, let's suppose for a second that your mother said it was okay to come with us and build the kinds of machines you want in a real lab, like Miss Americana suggests. I would think there are people willing to teach you a lot of new things and help you become the best you can be. It wouldn't be easy, even for someone with a mind like yours. I'm sure it would be hard work, but I bet it would be fun, too. If we talked to your mom, and she said it was okay, would you want that?"

Bishop wondered how much of a problem his mother would be with the plan that seemed to be shaping up: having some of the super-tech supers take this boy under their wing. Perhaps, she just wanted a "normal" life for her son. She would likely have to be shown that such a life just wasn't in the cards for Melvin -- that a school like this wasn't a place where he could really be happy; and that trying to force him into a life of "normalcy" was seriously dangerous.

[Electra]

Miss A shot Bishop a grown-up look over Melvin's head when he talked about not telling Melvin's mother. If the mom was already suspicious about her son's abilities, starting a relationship by lying to her was not going to help. Superteens with secret identities were one thing, but at eight years old, Melvin was most certainly a package deal. Before Melvin could say yes or no to Bishop's offer, she cut in herself.

"What Bishop means, Melvin, is that we wouldn't be telling your mother about any of this... because you will be," she told him gently but firmly. "You want to be treated like you are older and more responsible than other boys your age, and you want to have special privileges, right? If that's the case, you have to prove that you are worthy of that by taking responsibility for your own actions. We can go with you and help you talk to your mother, and explain to her that you need more than what school is giving you, but you owe her the truth." She smiled at him, even as far away her stomach twisted. "Your mom wants you to have a normal, happy life, and that's a very good thing. Some mothers cause their children a great deal of pain by expecting more than that. What we want is to be able to convince her that you will be happier and better-adjusted in an accelerated program. Do you understand?"

[Bishop]

Bishop acknowledged Miss Americana's lead, and so nodded to Melvin as she spoke. "Of course you will have to tell your mother," he said to Melvin, and quickly gave Miss Americana a look of reassurance. "I think you would have come to the same conclusion yourself soon. It may seem scary, but we'll be there with you. It will be okay."

Bishop's face didn't betray his thoughts, but he realized what he had said must have struck a nerve with the superheroine. Perhaps she had a bad experience concerning her own child, which, as a parent himself, he could easily understand. One thing was clear to him, though, which was that she preferred a much more direct approach than his more gradual diplomatic style. No matter. It was an easy adjustment for him to make, and her approach seemed at least as effective in this case.

[Avenger Assembled]

For his own part, Caradoc found himself wool-gathering, or at least as much as he ever let himself do when he wasn't keeping a close eye out on the situation all around them. After all, he was no scientist to understand the offer of employment, and honestly he understood little enough about the relationship between parent and child on this world that both Bishop and Miss Americana had made sense to him. He remembered his own mother well enough, but her desperate efforts to keep their family alive in the Black Ghetto of Nihilor were so very far away now, especially in this place where the greatest hazard was to Miss Americana's dignity. He stayed quiet in the background, with a presence that would have been vaguely unsettling if not for Melvin's concentration on Miss Americana and Bishop.

They took Melvin out past Principal Werthers, where the boy's profound (though perhaps a touch insincere, as most children's would have been under the circumstances) apologies were enough to get them all out of the school and past a cheering crowd of students for the flight over to Melvin's mother's place. The Thackerys turned out to live in a single-family dwelling, a rarity in the heavily-urbanized Fens, with the large scrapyard across the street perhaps a clue why the real estate prices were low in the neighborhood. The Thackery house, a small prefab place, was locked tight at their approach, bars on the windows with shutters closed, but Melvin was sure his mom was home.

[Bishop]

Before leaving the school, when they had a moment of relative privacy, Bishop spoke with Miss Americana. With a conciliatory gesture he told her, "I apologize for 'stepping on your toes' in there. It would certainly be better if we could get on the same page."

He furrowed his brow. "You are with ArcheTech, so would I be right in assuming you have some pretty advanced communications system in your, um..." he only barely managed to avoid looking her up and down for possible signs of tech in a way that could easily be misconstrued. Instead, he kept his gaze politely fixed on her face. "...costume?" He smiled warmly, but blinked a few times. Though normally normally quite self-assured and unflappable, he couldn't help but feel at least a bit of awe in the presence of this paragon.

Pointing to his mask, he continued, "my equipment can interface with most protocols, so I'm thinking we could work out a private channel. I am concerned that we may have a much harder 'sell' in talking to Melvin's mother.

"Also, I assume we have the same general idea about getting Melvin some proper guidance, maybe through your resources at ArcheTech, but what specifically do you have in mind? Are there any details we should, perhaps, iron out before we talk to her? I would imagine she might be concerned that he gets a well-rounded education, appropriate social interaction... I think it would be good to already have answers to all of her likely questions."

Later, he began working on researching Melvin's mother to add to the information he already gleaned from the school's computer system. There was no telling what tidbit of information might prove useful in their talk with her. As they say: "knowing is half the battle," and Bishop was nothing if not thorough in preparing for any kind of "battle."

[Electra]

"Yes," Miss A told him, "I can arrange communications for all of us that will rely solely on radio transmissions." Her slight smile, beautiful even though she was substantially worse for wear after the soda pop attack, revealed nothing about where she was keeping her comm gear. "Caradoc also has the equipment to be included in the private channel, which is convenient."

"As for Melvin," she continued, looking towards the boy, "I think he'll be an excellent candidate for the Nicholson School. ArcheTech has strong relations with the school already, so I think we should be able to streamline his admission. They have the facilities and know-how to cope with an eight year old robotics engineer without stifling his creativity, and if the father is a problem, security can handle him. It's just a matter of getting the mother to agree. Like you said, that will be the hard part. But if we need to, we can put pressure on the principal here. Sooner or later, it's going to come down to a choice between getting her son help or seeing him put in detention. We'd like to stave that off."

[Avenger Assembled]

Caradoc and Miss Americana flew to the house, Miss Americana carrying Melvin, while Bishop teleported into the area to scope out the scenery. Over the noise of the scrapyard across the street, they headed for the screened-off porch of the Thackery house, Melvin hanging close to Miss Americana. He'd evidently really enjoyed the ride, and was a little more subdued now that they were in. Ms. Thackery, Melvin's mom, turned out to be an older woman with blonde hair that was probably dyed and thick red lipstick. At the sight of Miss Americana through the door, she tensed, a worried look on her face. When she spoke, she had a high voice with the trace of a Brooklyn accent, like a dame from a 1940s noir drama. "Miss Americana? What are you-" she looked down and saw Melvin and her eyes went wide with horror. "Melvin! What happened to you, baby?"

"I, uh, did some bad stuff again, ma," said Melvin awkwardly, looking away as he gave his mother a somewhat stuttery account of his deeds. His mom looked more and more shocked as he talked, hands going over her mouth as he told her all about his tale of robotic escapades.

[Electra]

Miss Americana stayed quiet and let Melvin report his deeds, keeping one hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "Mrs. Thackery," Miss Americana said smoothly and soothingly when the recitation was finished, "it's obvious that Melvin has high, very possibly metahuman intelligence. He's not being challenged at school, and that is probably contributing to his misbehavior. We'd like to talk with you about moving him to a special school, one more geared towards students with his aptitudes. He has a great deal of potential, and we'd like to help you channel that productively."

[Bishop]

Bishop smiled and nodded at the socially appropriate moments, but had most of his mind on other tasks. His internet delving was producing results, and some of them quite shocking. He managed to maintain his poker-face and send a surreptitious message to Miss Americana by piping a text-to-speech applet's output to the audio channel they had set up for communication.

Over the comlink, a synthesized 'generic male' voice spoke in an invariably neutral tone: [bg=#404040]"This is Bishop. We may have a problem. Mother was once known as "Red Acrobat." She was a member of the Circus of Crime. I don't think she stood trial. I do not know why. Be prepared for potential resistance."[/bg]