Fiction

Patric's Note: This aprocryphal tale was written by myself and Laura "La Llorona" Blackwell in late March 1998. It never became part of the official continuity, but I liked it so much, I kept it.

This news report filed by a reputable journalist who wishes to remain anonymous.

"There are some events in the course of human history which touch a journalist in very quiet, but very profound ways.

"Every year, on their wedding anniversary, I travel to a small town in the Midwest to visit the graves of my deceased parents. This year was no different in that respect. There was a cold miserable rain, and I stood by my parents only as long as the rain would allow.

"As I was leaving, I saw a funeral procession arrive. There were three coffins, and I thought 'What a miserable day to have to say good-bye. This rain is like adding insult to injury.'

"Then I noticed two very unusual things. The first was that one of the pall-bearers was Stanis Yeltzin. As a journalist and amateur chef, I had followed Yeltzin's career for years, so I recognized him immediately. I had never seen the gregarious Yeltzin frown before, and only the tight lines around his eyes reflected the deep anguish that his Russian Pride would not let him express. Whoever had passed away had been important to him. The second unusual thing was that the participants did not seem bothered by the rain. In fact, they were staying completely dry. Entranced, I followed the proceedings for a short distance until I almost walked in to her.

"'Her' in this case, means La Llarona. She was almost invisible standing there solemnly in the rain. I caught my footing and blurted automatically 'What are you doing here?' When she turned the stormy pools of her eyes towards me, I regretted drawing her attention, but she replied flatly 'All members of Watch Tower are a team. The heroes of Team Beta are simply the most visible.'

"Only the scent of a story kept me there, watching the eerie effect of the rain strike - not bounce from - that small but imposing figure. I looked back at the crowd to see if I could recognize any of the few dozen faces. I knew a few of the people from around town. Some of the older members had been friends of my parents. There seemed to be a lot of teenagers there. I couldn't hear what the priest ways saying, and I didn't want to intrude. Besides, the rain was starting to soak through to my bones. 'Why is Stanis Yeltzin here?' I asked absently. I felt as much as heard the superheroine sigh. The kind of sigh one gives when a annoying child asks an annoying question. In a tone reserved for that same annoying child, she stated 'He is here to console a friend.'

"I wanted to know more about any family that could draw members of Watch Tower. As I turned to go, those stormy eyes drew mine one more time. As if she had read my thoughts, La Llarona commanded without pretense 'You will leave the family alone.' As the rainwater drained from my clothing, leaving me as physically comfortable as I had arrived, I resolved that this family would continue to do just fine - thank-you-very-much - without my knowing anything more about them. "

Following up on that report, Reuters has been able to determine that the recently deceased are Mr. and Mrs. Joseph and Margaret Greenboro of Quentin, Colorado, and their teenage daughter Samantha. Mr. and Mrs. Greenboro are survived by their son Charles, who we understand is a Molecular Biologist for Watch Tower. The Greenboros died when their house was consumed by fire in an early morning blaze. Authorities are still investigating the cause of the fire, but unconfirmed rumors indicate that it may have been a forgotten kerosene heater in the basement.

Stanis Yeltzin is the grandson of Russian President Boris Yeltzin. He is also popularly known for his best-selling recipe book Hero Feast: Keeping Up with the World's Greatest Hero Team.

La Llarona is a member of Watch Tower Team Beta.

Epilogue

It was early morning in the Tower. It was a rare thing for the danger room to be in use at this hour, but members of Team Beta could make special arrangements for things like that.

Kodiak Steel's body vibrated with anticipation and barely contained negative energy. His stance was loose as he waited in the guts of the abandoned post-apocalypse metropolis. He could hear them stalking through the ruins; skittering over the debris. He turned slowly and waited.

Suddenly one lunged from behind a broken piece of cornice. A snap punch shattered it's head and sent the robot arcing across the landscape. Jade Dragon Kung Fu mandated flexibility, but also demanded proper form.

As if that was a signal, a dozen more robots burst forth from the ruins. The great metal man opened a door inside his heart, and the rage washed over him like a lover's embrace as the robots washed over him like a gleaming, writhing wave. The computer had been programmed to send robots until Kodiak Steel had been overwhelmed.

Kodiak Steel shattered the robot over his knee and dropped it on the mountain he had created. With that last robot, he had earned himself a brief repreive. He surveyed the landscape from his high vantage point. His war had raged across twenty city blocks and he could see a thousand broken robot bodies, with a thousand more scrabbling toward him. He smiled beneath the angry yellow sun.

Suddenly the sun and sky vanished to be replaced the walls of the danger room. A computer voice sang out "program terminated at user request."

"Kodiak," came La Llarona's voice from the control room, "are you finished?"

Kodiak Steel looked at the pile of robots beneath his feet. With the interruption, he realized that his mind was tired even though his body was not. The weight in his heart was still there, but it was less painful to bear its burden. "Da. I am finished."

"Good," replied the solemn voice from the control room, "You've been straining the computer for an hour." Kodiak Steel looked up at the control booth. There was no edge in La Llarona's voice, for her that passed for amusement. "They're using it cook breakfast. Are you hungry?"

Kodiak Steel smiled broadly as he slid to the floor and headed for the exit.

[ Affinity Hosting ]
[ Amazon.com ]
[ AllAdvantage.com ]
[ NetObjects Fusion ]
[ Netscape Now! ]
[ patric.net ]