Airlab, floating over Lake Doom, north of New Salem, Kentucky
November 2, 2008, 10:49 a.m.

Set up in the late nineties to study the strange climatic changes, the Airlab facility floated over the rocky waters of Lake Doom. After budget cuts early in the year, the facility now operated with only a skeleton crew. All well and good, except for the fact that someone was shipping large numbers of materials out of the facility.

Fear-Lass looked over to Ace as they crouched behind cover in the facility’s loading area. They snuck aboard on the last transport plane. The process proved far too easy, as only a single pilot manned the craft. Though met by three crew members of Airlab, all massively build men in skin-tight blue-gray uniforms. The low lighting of the cargo area allowed Ace and her ample opportunity to take cover. They stayed undercover as they watched the three men load more of the mystery crates on to the plane. After just under twenty minutes of loading, they cleared the area to allow the plane to take off again.

Ace watched all of this with a cold stare. Fear-Lass felt an urgency eat at the pit of her stomach. She wanted to move, take action, now. She held the urge in check as they waited for their chance to move.

The plane fell away from the craft and the landing doors closed. Ace crept out from their cover behind a pile of empty storage containers. Fear-Lass glanced around and followed him.

“We’re up here,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Now what’s your plan, Ace?”

She emphasized the final word in to an invective, but Ace showed no sign of recognition. He concentrated on the room around him.

“We should never have come here,” he said. “It’s a trap.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“A lot of good it does us! We’re stuck up here until the next plane comes. What do you want us to do now?”

“We go inside. Like you said, we don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You just said it was a trap!”

“Doesn’t mean I thought we weren’t going to check it out. We are metahumans you know. I’m sure we can handle anything this place throws at us.”

“I guess.” Fear-Lass wished she felt half as confident as Ace sounded.

Ace opened the large metal door in to the main hall of Airlab. The hallway stretched straight from the loading area, on the rear of the sky-ship, all the way to the command section on the fore of the ship. The hall was about twelve feet wide, and the rest of the laboratories, living areas, and other amenities were connected by up and down walkways to hatches of various sizes and shapes. The simple design made the Airlab accessible to even the newest arrival.

“It’s about time you arrived.”

The voice came from about a third of the way down the hallway. A short, stocky man, just over five feet in height, was the speaker. He wore faded military fatigues with the sleeves ripped off at the shoulder. His body was thick and muscular with no sign of body fat.

Three more men flanked him. The first was an impossibly skinny albino man. He stood nearly seven feet tall, but his emaciated frame looked as though it couldn’t have weighed much more than a hundred pounds. Thick, sharp nails reached out several inches from the tips of his fingers.

Next to him was a heavily muscled black man. He wore a pair of heavy duty khaki pants, combat boots, and a general issue helmet. His chest was covered with a massive metal carapace. Two large lights, one over each breastbone, pulsed repeatedly with red and yellow light. Smaller lights formed a circle around each larger light. They activated and deactivated to make a spiral motion.

The final man may not have been a man at all. His entire body was covered with random bits of metal of various sizes and shapes. He would look like a walking scrapyard if not for the large pair of safety goggles over his eyes and nose. Human eyes peered out from beneath them. From the back of each wrist, sharpened spikes of metal shot out to almost a foot behind his fists.

The short man, obviously the leader, bowed. “We must thank you both for paying us this visit. We have waited quite a long time to meet the mysterious Ace, and our employer is very, very interested in you, ma’am. Fearless, isn’t it?”

“Fear-Lass,” she said.

“My apologies, dear lady.” He spoke with a slight accent. Fear-Lass guessed at it being Bostonian. “I mean you no slight. My associates and I respect you as worthy foes and wish to honor you as such. But first we must introduce ourselves.”

“My name is Arnold Palmero. My associates prefer slightly more modernized sobriquets to match their metagenetic condition.” He indicated the man in the khakis and metal chest plate. “For example, this fine gentleman is known to many as one Darius Chambliss, but at work he prefers simply to be called Harness.” His hand fell in the direction of the metal-covered man. “This on the other hand is Miller Wilcox, also known as the enigmatic Solenoid. He also prefers foes to refer to him by his rather descriptive nickname, the Magnetic Man.” His hand moved to the emaciated giant. “And this fine fellow is known simply as Longstrike. Collectively we are the Tracers.”

Palmero cleared his throat. “Now we would all greatly appreciate it if you would deign to surrender so as to avoid any further hostility. If you submit, I have been told by my employer you will not be harmed.”

“Bug that.” Fear-Lass watched stunned as Ace shot forward at blinding speed.

Palmero’s threw his hands up. A flash of pure energy flashed from each palm, straight towards the oncoming Ace. The flying hero flashed up and then to the side to avoid both blasts. He took a moment to glance back at Fear-Lass.

“Come on!”

The words hit Fear-Lass and she realized she hadn’t moved. She sprinted forward to join him in the attack.

Ace crashed hard in to Palmero’s chest. The leader flew up in to the air before he crashed hard down to the floor. Longstrike’s body stretched to inhuman portions as he hurled a chop at Ace. Jagged blades shot from his fingernails even as his arms continued to lengthen.

Twin stiletto knives flashed from hidden pockets on Ace’s legs. He easily parried the slashing attack of Longstrike with one blade. He drove the other blade deep in to Longstrike’s forearm just below the elbow. The stretched out freak quickly withdrew the arm and clutched the wound.

Ace turned to face Harness just as the twin lights on his chest began to darken. Ace hurled his stilettos towards the lighted apertures, but could only watch as they suddenly changed course. They made a sharp clank as they struck Solenoid’s armor. They seemed to melt in to the rest of the metallic mess.

Ace watched as energy built to a crescendo on Harness’s chest plate. He prepared to spring out of the way, but even he couldn’t out fly an energy attack.

Fear-Lass slammed in to Harness’s side. The man crumpled under her super-strong tackle. She plowed right past him and in to the twisting arm of Longstrike. His arm quickly retracted and pulled her in against his body. She struggled against his hold. But the scrawny albino seemed to possess his own degree of metahuman strength.

Ace flashed through the air again. He forced Longstrike in to a headlock. As he yanked the albino away, his neck stretched away with it. But the distraction proved enough to allow Fear-Lass to break free of his hold. As she turned towards Longstrike she drove a spinning back fist in to the side of the albino’s throat. A shocked gasp rose from Longstrike’s mouth, still clutched in Ace’s hold. The combined attack finally forced the albino to the floor.

Both heroes turned their attention to Solenoid. The armored man raised both arms in an attempt to ward them off. “Truce! Truce! This wasn’t even my idea!”

Ace stalked towards him. “I’m not buying it.”

“It seems you are many things, Mr. Barlow, but none of them a fool.”

The voice slinked out from behind them. Fear-Lass and Ace both turned to see a woman. But not just any woman, Fear-Lass thought. She must be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her auburn hair, her body, her long perfectly-formed legs, everything about her called to Fear-Lass in a way she never felt before. Not about any woman, anyway. She longed for this woman. She desperately wanted this woman. Wanted her more than she wanted anything else ever in her life.

Ace grimaced beside her. “You’re the Sorceress, aren’t you? And you’re doing something to our minds.” He threw himself towards her. “I’ve fought too hard for my freedom! You won’t drag me down like this!”

“I don’t have to do so, Mr. Barlow. All I needed to do was slow you down.”

A large metal fist smashed down on the back of Ace’s head. His eyes rolled back in to his head before he dropped forward. Solenoid caught him before he could hit the floor.

Fear-Lass’s eyes remained fixed on the woman. Her eyes ran up and down the woman’s body. Though the woman only wore hot pants, a leather crop-top, and knee-high boots, Fear-Lass dreamed of what the woman might look like with that little bit of clothing removed.

The woman walked up to Fear-Lass. She stood only inches away. The woman reached down and caressed Fear-Lass’s cheek.

“My name is Dominique. Would you like to return to my chateau?”

Fear-Lass nodded. Her mind fell in to a haze as Dominique took her hand and guided her down the hall. Seconds later, her vision blurred in to nothingness.

*****

Madigan Army Medical Center, Tacoma, Washington
November 10, 2008, 1:30 p.m.

Mary Lee sat in a bed at the hospital. Connected by over a dozen tubes and sensors to various devices, she looked in far worse condition than she was in. She gave Russ a smile.

“You don’t have to spend the entire day with an old lady like me.”

“I just wanted to make sure you got to see a familiar face while you were stuck here. Nothing can be quite as lonely as a military hospital.”

Mary gave Russ a pat on the hand. “Come on now. You still have your whole life ahead of you. Like it or not, I’m an old woman now. I have to deal with those consequences. You need to get out there. Meet a nice young lady or two. Sow some oats.”

“I’ll be fine, Mary. I—”

“No, young man. I am most definitely your elder now. You may not remember, but they called me the goddess of chastisement back in the day. Don’t make me show you why.”

“All right, all right, I’ll go. But I promise I’ll be back in a day or two.” He rose from the bed and took her hand. “You take care of yourself in the mean time.”

“I will. Lord knows I don’t have anything else to do.”

Russ leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead before he left the room. He still wished the older woman would let him stay. Ever since they shipped back to America to allow more room to test her current condition, she pushed and prodded him to get out more. His only problem was he didn’t know where to go.

With Flag Man dead and his adventure in Riccapoor at an end, he felt directionless. While the constant rain did remind him of his native London, none of it seemed familiar. He longed for his post-war life when decisions were easier and answers were clear. He was tired of mysteries.

He walked down the hall towards the elevators and considered his choices. He felt the call of his birth city, but he knew he wasn’t ready to leave Mary alone in Tacoma. Not until she was out of this hospital at least. Which left him in a strange city with no discernible skills outside of fighting wars and crime. What was an out of work mystery-man to do?

“Russ? Is that you?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked around for the source of the voice. He didn’t think anyone knew him here, but the man’s voice sounded familiar. But he saw no one he recognized. No one even seemed to be paying him any mind.

“Russ, can you hear me?”

“Who’s there?”

Doctors and nurses turned his way as he spoke out loud to no one. A nurse hurried up to his side. “Sir, cell phones and Bluetooth devices are not allowed to be on within the medical center.”

“Sorry,” Russ said. He couldn’t even operate a cell phone, let alone a Bluetooth whatever.

“Russ, it’s Atoman. Are you nearby? They drugged me. I don’t know how, but they drugged me and placed me in some kind of storage facility.”

Russ looked around quickly. He found the nearest bathroom and closed the door behind him. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m in a hospital in Tacoma, Washington. How did you get here?”

“I wish I knew. I can’t use my powers. It’s only with great effort that I can use my atomic projection and senses to communicate with you.”

“Okay, I’m coming to get you. You can’t be too far—”

“No, I need you to get in touch with Black Owl. He should be in the area. He will know what to do. He should already be looking for me. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you, my friend. And I am still sorry about Flag Man’s death. If it could have been avoided…”

The voice in his head trailed off and went silent. Whether by fatigue or inability to finish his thought, Atoman’s voice projection was gone. Russ quickly flushed the toilet just in case anyone was listening and stepped out of the bathroom.

I may be no closer to finding my way in this world, he thought. But now at least I have a goal. Time to find the Owl.

*****

Robert Morgan’s penthouse apartment, Boston, Massachusetts
November 16, 2008, 3:47 p.m.

After only a month, Isobel could see her stomach swelling on an almost daily basis. The speed of her pregnancy seemed to be slowing, but she was already approaching her third trimester, nearly six months along in a normal pregnancy. Thankfully, the doctors gave up on keeping her at the hospital and sent her back home for bed rest.

Well not home, exactly. But Lash seemed more than happy to allow her to stay in her penthouse for the duration of the pregnancy. It was his child too after all.

But in the last couple weeks, Isobel couldn’t help but feel things had changed. Lash seemed distance, almost standoffish. He always had to work, always had to go for another meeting, or take another call. She knew he avoided contact with her on purpose. She just couldn’t understand why. Every time she even tried to bring it up, he immediately changed the subject or found something important to do.

He asked for this, she thought. If he would have been open and talked to me, this wouldn’t be a problem. But he knows me and my history. He knows I can’t just let a sudden change of behavior go uninvestigated. I need to know what happened; what went wrong.

She made short work of the lock on his office door simply by using a spreading knife from the kitchen. The lock on his desk drawer proved slightly more difficult. She stumbled upon his letter opener on the desk. The opener was just small enough to force the lock on the desk drawer.

Inside she found a thick manila folder, rubber-banded shut. The tag marked it as “Project: Infinity”.

She lifted the folder out of the desk. As thick as this thing is, he has to have been working on it for weeks.

She dropped the folder to the desk and fumbled the rubber band off with her swollen fingers. She flipped open the top page and was greeted with a layout of photographs. All the images were of mystery men. Some she recognized: Man O’Metal, Pyroman, and the Woman in Red. Others she didn’t recognize, but from their costume design she guessed they were all contemporaries of Lash and herself. She flipped past two more pages of photos before she found any print.

It was a scientific article entitled “The Metagene Activation Process: Controlled Applications of the Metagenetic Transformation”. She tried to read over the article but it quickly lost her with thick scientific jargon. She flipped to the next page. She gasped as she looked at an FBI profile on her.

The jangle of keys pulled her attention away from the folder. She quickly threw it shut and replaced the rubber band. She shoved it in to the desk, closed the drawer, and moved as fast as she could from the room.

She closed the door and took two steps towards the kitchen before the door opened and Lash entered.

“Hey, babe. You’re home early.”

He nodded and started towards the bedroom. He stopped midstride. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?’

“I got hungry. Thought I’d make myself a sandwich. I have this uncanny craving for peanut butter and banana.”

“You’re supposed to be on bed rest! You know you are supposed to order out if you get hungry. The front desk will be happy to send up someone to deliver it right to the bedroom.”

“I know. I know. It’s just not a lot of places offer peanut butter and banana.”

Robert shook his head, obviously annoyed. “Get back in bed. I’ll make you the sandwich before I leave. Okay?”

She smiled. “That sounds lovely, dear.”

Robert grimaced. She couldn’t decide if it was at her smile or her affectionate words.

She waddled on her two swollen feet back to the bedroom. As she climbed back in to the bed, she held back tears. One slip of paper changed everything in her life. She slumped back in to the bed and held her belly. She never gave much credence to any gods or goddesses. She was a modern woman. She didn’t have time for all that spiritual nonsense. But for the first time in as long as she could remember she found herself pleading with God. Protect my baby, she thought. Please Lord, protect my child.

*****

Times Square, New York City
December 1, 2008, 1:47 a.m.

It was night, but the dozen massive screens suspended over them kept the streets bathed in a neon glow. Various individuals of all shapes, sizes, and walks of life still walked the streets.

None of them expected an iridescent globe of pure energy to appear directly beneath the MTV Studios window at One Astor Plaza. The orb seemed to pulse with a blinding radiation before it disappeared entirely.

Five bodies sprawled towards the pavement below. They crashed in to a pile of twisted limbs and strange costumes.

Green Lama was the first to his feet. “I’m sorry. I should have warned everyone that the landing might be a little rough.”

Blackout leaped to his feet and nodded his agreement with the statement.

Ghost Woman stoically drew herself up and said nothing else.

Doctor Frost pushed his armored frame in to a crouch. Sharp wheezing came from his gasmask. Concern showed on the faces of Lama and Blackout as he seemed to labor for every breath.

“I’ve got him,” Marcus said. He grabbed Frost by the arm and helped him to his feet.

“No.” Frost’s words barely hissed from the speaker on his helmet. “What did you do to me?”

Marcus grinned as he pulled Frost to his feet. “I’m only trying to help you, man. You will be fine, I promise.”

“No. No, you’re working against us.”

“Calm down, Frost. You’re getting delusional.”

“No, you poisoned me. You’re working for them, for Dominique.” Frost attempted to shove Marcus away, but he only succeeded at stumbling forward. Marcus caught his arm to keep him from falling.

Ghost Woman’s attention finally turned to the injured Frost. Dominique. That name. I know that name. But why?

She started towards Frost and Marcus. “Do what he says, Marcus? Please step away from him.”

“What? Can’t you see he’s obviously been affected by that thing we were in? He’s sick. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“I’m not so sure,” Ghost Woman said. “Back away from him and we will see to him.”

Marcus looked at her, down at Frost, and then back to her. “I’m sorry, Sally. I can’t do that.”

Marcus touched a button on his wristwatch. A pistol, far more advanced than anything currently on the market, appeared in his hand. He immediately aimed it at Ghost Woman.

“Believe me when I say you can’t phase through this, Sally. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you make me.”

Green Lama looked between the doctor and Ghost Woman. “What’s going on?”

“Let me handle this,” Ghost Woman said. “I won’t risk anyone else getting hurt.”

Marcus shook his head. “Always the noble fool, aren’t you, Sally? This time it will do you no good.”

The view of the street behind Marcus and Doctor Frost seemed to suddenly rend and move. A hole ripped in the fabric of reality. Red light poured out of the suddenly new portal.

A figure dressed head to toe in gray and yellow body armor stepped from the portal and rested his hands on Marcus and Frost’s shoulders. He pulled back on the other men. They immediately fell back with him in to the opening in space.

Ghost Woman ran forward but it was already too late. The portal closed and any answers disappeared with it.

Dominique. Dominique. I don’t know you yet, but I will. Whoever you are, you are soon going to wish you never messed with me.