It was a cold, gray, misty day in Millennium City, and I was enjoying a warm snuggle on the couch with my girlfriend, Julie Martins, in the living room of our apartment in Westside while some crappy science fiction movie neither of us cared about played on TV, Julie kissing my bucktoothed muzzle and stroking my fine, tan fur while I caressed her brown hair and her soft, pink skin. Things were progressing nicely, and I was about to suggest that we move the action into the bedroom, when our ears were assaulted by the electric raspberry of the door buzzer. "Ignore it," Julie mumbled around a mouthful of my fur. "It might be someone who needs help," I murmured back, with my nose against her cheek. I really didn't want to stop. "Then why wouldn't they call you? Nightmunk is a registered hero." "Maybe they want to talk to me in person. Harder to turn down that way." "Easier to kill you that way, too." "Come on, who'd want to kill me? I'm so lovable!" "About half the villains in the city." "Only half? I'm insulted!" "Ooh, aren't we full of ourselves? Who do you think you are, Defender?" "Nah, I'm much cuter than him." The door buzzed again. "You gonna get that?" Julie asked. "Someone might be dying on our doorstep." "That only happens in the movies," I said, fishing out my cell phone. It was hooked into a camera that monitored the front door of the building. My eyes went wide when I saw who was requesting entrance. "Son of a bitch! It's Reeseg and Kena!" "Who?" "A pair of manimals I knew on Monster Island." Manimals are human-animal hybrids created on an island in the south Pacific by the criminal geneticist Dr. Philippe Moreau, great-grandson of the title character of the novel by H. G. Wells. I pressed the button to unlock the front door. "What are a pair of manimals doing in Millennium City?" Julie asked. I shrugged. "I'm a manimal and I'm in Millennium City." "You, Dr. Silverback, and Adam," she said, referring to a pair of scientists we both knew—a gorilla and a chimpanzee, respectively. "I thought that was it." "You're forgetting about that fox and coyote who work at Greer and Harlick." Greer and Harlick is a tailor that specializes in superhero costumes. "Oh yeah. What are their names again?" "Victor and Alexander." "Right. You think they're gay?" "I don't know about Alexander, but Victor is." "How do you know that?" "Because he hit on me." "Really? Should I be worried?" "Well, he is a fox." Julie punched my arm. "So, are these two friends of yours?" "It's hard to make friends when you never know who you might end up in a death match with." "Well, are they at least not enemies?" "You think I would have let them in if they were?" "Good point." There was a knock on the door, and I hopped off the couch, went to the door, and opened it. Before me stood two manimals. Reeseg was a gray bat, thin and wiry, standing about five feet tall, with a pair of black, leathery wings folded across his back, wearing only a pair of khaki pants. His furry chest was crisscrossed with scars from Moreau's fight pits, and his fingers were tipped with long, wicked claws, which I'd seen him kill with before. Kena was a mouse with agouti fur and a white muzzle, about a meter tall, with a hard, compact build, wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans, his feet bare, like his companion's. "Hi, Alvin!" said Reeseg, smiling and displaying a mouth full of needle-like teeth. "Nice to see you again!" Then he blinked when he saw Julie sitting on the couch. Like me, she was wearing just a T-shirt and sweat pants. "Oh, sorry if we're interrupting!" "You're not interrupting anything," I lied. "Please, come in." They entered, and I closed the door behind them. I noticed that Kena was glancing around furtively, his nose and ears twitching in agitation. Mice are perpetually on edge. "This is Julie Martins, my roommate. Julie, these are Reeseg and Kena." "Nice to meet you both," said Julie, getting up and offering her hand to Reeseg, showing no fear of his claws. "How do you do, Miss Martins?" asked Reeseg, shaking her hand. Kena silently did so as well. "Fine, thanks. Would either of you like something to eat?" "Yes, please!" said Reeseg. Kena nodded, his big ears waggling. "We're both real hungry!" Julie went into the kitchen to get some food while Reeseg, Kena, and I sat down in the living room. "So, how did you get off Monster Island?" I asked. "We flew off," Reeseg replied. "That's quite a feat, considering it's under UNTIL quarantine and no unauthorized ships are allowed within fifty miles of it." UNTIL is the United Nations Tribunal on International Law, which administers the island. "A French yachtsman from Tahiti named Duval brought his yacht, the La Dauphin, into the quarantine area," said Reeseg. "His guests wanted to see if they could catch a glimpse of a real, live manimal." Kena grinned, his buck teeth gleaming. "They got more than a glimpse!" "How did they avoid being spotted by UNTIL's radar?" I asked. "Oh, they were spotted," said Reeseg, "and UNTIL sent a hovercraft to chase them away, but by then we were already aboard. Hardest flying I ever did!" He looked at his companion. "You need to lose weight." Kena just scowled at him. "And Duval and his guests were all right with this?" asked Julie, returning with a bowl of tortilla chips, salsa, and cheese dip. Reeseg laughed as he grabbed a handful of chips. "Are you kidding? They thought we were the greatest thing ever! We partied with them all the way back to Tahiti!" He stuffed the chips in his mouth and munched them. Kena nodded, doing the same. "For two weeks it was all champagne and caviar, drinking and dancing on the high seas." "We both had a ball!" said Reeseg, grinning. "In more ways than one," said Kena, smirking and nudging his companion. Reeseg chuckled, his ears turning scarlet. Julie and I looked at each other. Those idiots on the La Dauphin had no idea how lucky they'd been. There were plenty of manimals on Monster Island who would have happily killed and eaten them. "Once we docked in Tahiti," Reeseg continued, "we went to the capital in Pape'ete and applied for a pair of French passports, since we were entitled to them under French law. Duval and his friends let us stay with them for a few days while some government officials interviewed us and a doctor examined us to make sure we weren't carrying any diseases or parasites. Then Duval gave us some money and we bought plane tickets to the United States and here we are!" I shook my head. "That's quite a story," I said. "But why have you come to see me? It's not like we were best buddies back on Monster Island or anything. I barely knew either of you." Reeseg blinked. "Isn't it obvious? We want to be heroes!" I stared at them both for a long moment, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? What's the worst that could happen?" "I think it's a great idea!" said Julie, enthusiastically. "There should be more manimal heroes. It would get more people to trust you." I looked at her. "A lot of manimals shouldn't be trusted, Julie. They're vicious, bloodthirsty killers. The quarantine on Monster Island is mainly to keep people away from the place, because between savage manimals, Lemurians, teleioraptors, and aliens like the Elder Worms and the Qularr, it's real easy to die there. Remember Professor Plummet?" Julie nodded. "Yeah, that was sad." Professor Plummet had been a TV science show host who explored caves. He and his assistant had disappeared in a cave on Monster Island. The heroes who had been sent in to search for them found that they'd both been eaten by teleioraptors, cloned dinosaurs created by the mad geneticist Teleios, the self-proclaimed "perfect human being," who had once maintained a base on the island. Since Plummet's death, no civilians had been allowed on Monster Island, apart from registered heroes. UNTIL reasoned that heroes were tough enough to take care of themselves, but even that didn't always turn out to be true. Matador and Sunsprite had bought it there just last month. I knew Sunsprite. She was one of the nicest people I ever met. "Plummet wasn't killed by manimals," Reeseg pointed out. "True," I replied, "but he just as easily could have been. Manimals use those caves, too." "Are you saying you don't trust us because we're manimals?" Kena asked, accusingly. Reeseg frowned and folded his arms. "That's a fine thing for another manimal to say!" I sighed. "I don't know you well enough to trust you or not trust you. I know you can fight, and I know you can kill. But that's about it." "We don't want to kill anyone," said Reeseg. Kena nodded. "We want to help people, like you do." "Don't you think they deserve a chance to prove themselves, Alvin?" Julie asked. "Everyone deserves that chance," I said. "But being a registered hero carries a big responsibility, one that's not to be taken lightly." "Well, UNTIL has telepaths who can find out if they're telling the truth, provided they consent to having their minds read." "Of course!" said Reeseg. "We have nothing to hide," said Kena. "In that case," said Julie, "why don't we go over there now?" I blinked. "Now?" She shrugged. "Why not? They're open 24 hours." "If it's not too much trouble," said Reeseg, looking very excited. Kena nodded, also looking excited. "Fine," I said, a bit grumpily. I'd really been looking forward to having sex with Julie, but now it seemed that would have to wait a while. I reminded myself that as a hero, it was my duty to put the needs of others before my own. Unsurprisingly, it didn't make me feel any better. Julie and I rose from the couch and went into the bedroom to suit up. We emerged a minute later, me in my black-and-gray Nightmunk costume—a virtual duplicate of my mentor Nighthawk's costume, with its bird motif hood and cape and gold hawk emblem on the chest—and her in her black-and-gray Nightfox costume, with a mask and hood and a fox-head emblem on the chest. "You're a hero, too?" Reeseg asked, staring at Julie in surprise. "Unregistered," said Julie. "To be a registered hero, you have to tell them your real name." "Which she's technically supposed to do," I said, "but that law isn't strictly enforced." Julie glanced at me. "Nighthawk isn't registered either, darling. Even you don't know who he is." "I'm well aware of that, darling," I said to her sweetly, and then turned back to our guests. "Shall we?" Reeseg and Kena both jumped to their feet and followed us out of the apartment and up to the roof, where we'd parked our grav cycles, nifty machines that help us get around the huge metropolis of Millennium City faster. I climbed on mine and Julie on hers, and Kena hopped on behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, while Reeseg flapped his black, leathery wings and rose into the air, and off we all flew into the cold, gray, dreary sky.
UNTIL headquarters is a fifty-story steel and glass tower on the Detroit River, just south of the headquarters of the Champions, the world's most famous superteam, of which my mentor Nighthawk is a former member. In the river before it lies the hulk of a crashed Qularr mothership, looking like a gigantic, drowned scarab beetle, a constant reminder of the bizarre world we live in. As we entered the lobby, Reeseg and Kena got quite a few odd looks from the UNTIL agents there. We went up to the agent staffing the reception desk and told him why we were here. He directed us to a conference room and told us one of their people would be with us shortly. We went into the spartanly furnished, wood-paneled conference room and sat down to wait. I knew as we sat there that security scanners were examining us in microscopic detail, down to finding out what we'd each had for breakfast. After about five minutes, the door opened and two people entered. Both wore the blue-gray jumpsuit, black combat boots, and black beret of an UNTIL agent. One was a tall, slim woman with long, dark-brown hair, with an attractive but rather hard face. The other was a cat manimal with tan fur and a white muzzle and throat. "Good afternoon," the woman said, speaking with an upper-class British accent. "I'm Dr. Cassandra Kelley. This is Captain Bogdan Danielov, UNTIL's chief telepath." Danielov nodded to me. "Hello, Nightmunk," he said, speaking with a soft Slavic accent. "Nice to see you again." I nodded back. "Nice to see you again, too, Bogdan." Unlike me, Danielov had not been born a manimal. He was a Bulgarian UNTIL agent who had been subjected to genetic alteration by a rat manimal named Ratskellar, one of Moreau's lieutenants. Besides changing him into a cat, the transformation had somehow enhanced his natural low-level psi abilities, making him UNTIL's most powerful telepath. He'd helped me put my head back together after I'd been brainwashed by the Parapsychological Studies Institute, or PSI, an organization of psionic criminals. Julie, Reeseg, and Kena each introduced themselves as Kelley and Danielov sat down. Kelley opened her laptop and set it on the table before her. "Before we begin this interview," she said, "I'm required to ask if Reeseg and Kena are willing to permit Captain Danielov to read their minds." "I have no objection," said Reeseg. "Same here," said Kena. "Very good," said Kelley, making a notation on her laptop. "Understand that everything said here will be kept in the strictest confidence and that Captain Danielov's telepathic monitoring will be limited exclusively to determining the truth or falsity of your responses. We have no desire to invade your privacy any more than necessary." "That's very considerate of you," said Reeseg, smiling and showing his needle-like teeth. "That is part of UNTIL's charter," said Kelley, matter-of-factly. "I understand that you, Reeseg and Kena, wish to become registered heroes." "That's why we're here!" said Kena, grinning. Reeseg nodded. "What we came all the way from Monster Island for." "Have either of you ever killed anyone?" "Yes," said Reeseg. "We both have." "In Moreau's fight pits," Kena clarified. "Do you feel any remorse about that?" "We did what we had to do to survive," said Reeseg firmly. Kena nodded. "It was them or us." Kelley made a note on her laptop. "Why do you want to be heroes?" Reeseg shrugged. "What else would we be? Waiters?" Kena giggled. "Taxi drivers?" "Answer the question, please." Reeseg frowned. "Look, we were both trained to fight. Might as well do it on the side of the good guys." "And people respect heroes," added Kena. Reeseg nodded. "We want to be respected. We know how most people feel about manimals." "They think we're freaks and monsters," said Kena. "We want to show them manimals can be heroes," said Reeseg. "Like Nightmunk!" said Kena, looking at me and grinning. I blushed under my fur, feeling very honored, while Kelley made a notation on her laptop. "Do either of you possess any superhuman abilities?" she asked. "I can fly," said Reeseg. "How fast?" "I've never actually measured it. As fast as any bird manimal." "He flew thirty miles in half an hour," said Kena. "Carrying me." The bat nodded. "That's how we escaped from Monster Island." "Yes, the incident with the La Dauphin. We know that's how you broke quarantine." "Are we in trouble for that?" asked Kena, looking pensive. "You haven't done anything he hasn't done," Kelley said, glancing at me. "In any case, UNTIL is more concerned with keeping civilians off the island than with keeping manimals from leaving it. And based on your interviews with representatives of the Tahitian government, which we have transcripts of, there's nothing to indicate that either of you is a menace to society. If we thought you were, you would have both been apprehended in Tahiti and returned to Monster Island." Reeseg and Kena both looked relieved. "Any other abilities?" asked Kelley. "My screech hurts people's ears," said Reeseg. Kelley nodded. "Much like the one bird manimals make." She made a note of it. "Our scanners detected questionite on you, Reeseg." I blinked. Questionite was an extremely rare metal, stronger than steel and far lighter. "Oh yes, my wings!" said Reeseg, as if just remembering he had them. "Dr. Moreau infused them with particles of questionite. When I wrap them around myself, they're like a shield of steel!" He grinned. "Well, that's useful," said Kelley, making a note of it. She turned her attention to Kena. "What about you?" The mouse squirmed in his seat, looking embarrassed. "I don't have any powers." "He's a tough little bastard, though," said Reeseg, leaping to his friend's defense. "He survived thirty-eight death matches, every one against an opponent bigger than him." Kena smiled up at the bat gratefully. "Having superpowers isn't a requirement for registered hero status," I reminded Kelley. "I don't have any." Kelley raised an eyebrow at me. "Thank you, Nightmunk, I was aware of that." She turned her attention back to Reeseg and Kena. "I believe I have enough information for a preliminary report. You may be asked to return to provide additional data. I will need an address and phone number where I can reach you." "For the moment," I said, "they're staying at my apartment in Westside. My address and phone number are on file." Kelley nodded to me. "Very good." She looked at Reeseg and Kena. "Are there any questions?" Reeseg swallowed. "Do you think we have a chance?" "I am not on the review board," said Kelley. "I can only make recommendations. But based on what I've heard, I see no reason to recommend rejection." Reeseg and Kena grinned at each other, elated. "Understand that registered hero status is a privilege," Kelley continued, "and that your actions will be subject to scrutiny. You will be expected to behave as upstanding members of the hero community. If you fail to do so, your status will be revoked." "Though you can appeal it if you feel it was done unjustly," I added. "Quite," said Kelley primly. "Now, if there's nothing else, I believe this interview is at an end. It was a pleasure meeting you all. Good day, and good luck." And with that, she rose from her seat and strode out of the room. "Did the room just get about ten degrees warmer?" asked Julie. "She was just being professional," I said. I turned to Danielov as he was about to leave. "Bogdan, could I talk to you in private for a minute?" He nodded, and Julie beckoned Reeseg and Kena to join her outside, closing the door behind them. "How are you doing?" I asked Danielov once we were alone. "I am well," he replied. "How are you?" "I'm okay," I said. "I spent some time in Canada with Dr. Tarrell. He made sure all PSI's wiring was pulled out." "That is good to hear." "Have your scientists made any progress toward reversing the transformation?" Danielov shook his head. "The consensus is that any attempt to do so would almost certainly prove fatal." "Oh. I'm sorry." Danielov shrugged. "It is not so bad. And my enhanced psionic abilities have gained me a promotion, so there is that." I nodded. "I'm glad things are going well for you, then. Thanks again for everything you did for me. If you ever need anything, even if you just want to talk . . ." Danielov smiled. "That is most kind of you, Alvin, but I am fine. Goodbye." He turned and left the room, his tail swishing behind him. I stood there watching him go, biting my lip. As much as I wanted to help, it was foolish of me to think I could know what he was going through. Being a manimal from birth was hard enough. To be changed into one as an adult had to be far tougher. I sighed and went out into the hall to rejoin the others. "How long before they decide?" asked Kena eagerly. I shrugged. "That's up to UNTIL." "How long did it take for you?" asked Reeseg. "A week. But I had the support of the Champions, so that may have sped things up a bit." "You're really letting us stay with you?" asked Kena. I looked up at Julie. "What do you think?" "Have you got money for a hotel?" she asked them. "How much does a hotel room cost?" asked Reeseg. She told him, and his ears flattened. "We can't afford that!" "What happened to the money Duval gave you?" I asked. "We met some girls during the layover in Honolulu and partied a bit," said Kena, grinning sheepishly. "What were you planning to do once you got here?" Julie asked, in her best disapproving mother voice. "Sleep in the street?" Reeseg shrugged. "We figured we'd work something out." I shook my head. "I'm very disappointed in you, boys," I said, assuming the disapproving father role. Julie nodded. "2 Broke Manimals." "Does this mean we can't stay with you?" asked Reeseg meekly. "Don't be stupid," I said. "Of course you can." "At least until you get a place of your own," Julie added. "How are we gonna do that?" asked Kena. I grinned at him. "You could work as waiters." "Or taxi drivers," said Julie. The two manimals exchanged glances. "In the meantime," I said, "let's do lunch. There's a Darren's Pizza not far from here." Reeseg nodded. "If you're buying."
Julie and I were jolted awake by a crashing sound from the living room, and I instinctively grabbed the throwing blade I always kept on the nightstand beside the bed and readied myself to hurl it at whatever came through the door. Then I remembered we had guests. "Oh, Christ, what is it this time?" Julie asked, rubbing her forehead. "Reeseg probably knocked something over again," I said, climbing out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. He and Kena had been staying with us for a week now, and in that time I had learned one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt—big bat wings and a small apartment do not mix. I went to the bedroom door and opened it while Julie curled back under the covers. We had only gotten in from our nightly patrol of Millennium City two hours ago. I went out into the living room to find Reeseg and Kena on their hands and knees, gathering up broken pieces of the porcelain vase that had stood on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Uh, sorry," the bat said, grinning up at me sheepishly. "My wing knocked it over. It wasn't valuable, was it?" The vase had been Pickard China, fired in Antioch, Illinois, in 1937, and bore designs celebrating the centennial of Michigan's admission to the Union. Julie had brought it here from her father's house in Grand Rapids after he'd been murdered last year. Personally, I'd always thought it deserved to meet with an accident, but I'd never said anything, because I knew it had sentimental value to her. I sighed and went to get a dustpan. "We'll glue it back together for you!" said Kena. "I think it's too far gone for that," I said, coming over and holding out the dustpan for them to dump the fragments into. "I'm really sorry," said Reeseg. "I guess I got a little excited!" "What about?" I asked. "That!" the bat said, pointing at the TV screen. I looked at what he was pointing at. RetroToons was showing a cartoon featuring a yellow-clad anthropomorphic bat superhero and his hulking Asian human sidekick fighting gangsters, the bat bouncing bullets off his wings as the gangsters blazed away at them with tommy guns. I recognized him as Batfink, a character from a series of five-minute cartoons made back in the '60s that had been shown as filler by syndicated TV stations and on local TV kid shows. The animation was cheap and crude, typical of cartoons of that era, but that actually gave it a kind of charm. "That could be me!" said Reeseg, grinning. I had to admit, the resemblance was uncanny, right down to the bulletproof wings. Then again, it wouldn't have been the first time Moreau had used his genetic know-how to create a manimal based on a cartoon character. I was living proof of that. I'd been wondering why he'd gone to the trouble of infusing Reeseg's wings with particles of questionite, given how insanely expensive the stuff was. Now I knew. "You thinking of adopting Batfink as your hero identity?" I asked as I took the broken pieces of the vase to the kitchen and dumped them in the trash. He shrugged. "Seems a shame to waste an identity that's already been created for me." "I dunno," I said. "Superheroes aren't supposed to steal other people's intellectual property. Plus you can get sued for that." "Well, you're a chipmunk, and your name is Alvin." I came back into the living room. "Yeah, but I don't walk around wearing a red baseball cap and an ankle-length sweater with an A on it. I have my own identity." Kena laughed. "Your own identity? You wear the same costume as Nighthawk!" I glared at him. "Because I'm a member of Team Nighthawk, and that's our team uniform." "Would anyone even care if I called myself Batfink?" asked Reeseg. "That cartoon was made over fifty years ago!" I shrugged. "You never know. Someone might." "I wonder what identity I should take," Kena mused. As if on cue, another cartoon came on, featuring a crime-fighting duo composed of a pair of anthropomorphic animals: Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse. Minute Mouse wore a yellow shirt and green cape and spoke in a high, falsetto voice, much like another famous cartoon mouse. The show had cool, jazzy music that reminded me of the "Peter Gunn" theme. "Okay, that's just spooky!" said Reeseg. "I can't stand Minute's voice," said Kena. "I don't sound anything like that." "I bet you could if you tried," said Reeseg, grinning. Kena looked at him. "Why would I want to? Everyone would laugh at me!" "He also doesn't wear pants," I observed. "Yeah, screw that!" said Kena, folding his arms. "I'm not walking around with my junk hanging out!" "You did on Monster Island," Reeseg reminded him. "Monster Island didn't have laws against public nudity!" Kena shot back. "What about Supersonic Squirrel?" asked Reeseg. "He doesn't wear any clothes." "He's kind of a special case," I said. I started as I heard my cell phone ringing from inside the bedroom, and ran to the door. Julie opened it just as I got there, thrust the phone into my hand, and closed it again. I checked the number. It wasn't familiar to me. I put the phone to my ear. "Hello?" "Nightmunk," said a woman's voice. She sounded scared and was speaking in a hushed voice, as if she were afraid of being overheard by someone. "I need your help!" I waved at Reeseg and Kena to shut up, and they did so. "What's wrong?" I asked. "It's my son," the woman said. "He's been kidnapped!" "Kidnapped?" I said. Reeseg and Kena immediately came over to listen. "I suggest you call the police, ma'am." "The kidnappers told us not to." "They always say that. Call the police. They're your son's best chance." "My husband refuses to, and he doesn't want me to, either. He's adamant about it. He wants to pay the ransom. Please, I need your help to get my boy back!" She sounded as if she was on the edge of hysteria. "All right, calm down," I said as soothingly as I could. "Give me your address." She did so. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. If the kidnappers call in the meantime, don't agree to anything unless they let you talk to your son. It's important that they know they need him alive. Understand?" "I understand. Please, hurry!" She hung up. "A kidnapping?" asked Kena, looking excited. "Can we help?" asked Reeseg eagerly. "Yeah, sure," I said, running to the bedroom and opening the door. "Julie! Suit up! We're on the clock!" "What's up?" asked Julie, sitting up in bed. "We've got a kidnapping," I replied, as I began pulling on my costume. "A kidnapping?" asked Julie. "Why don't they go to the police?" "They don't want to. Get dressed!" Julie sighed, got out of bed, and started pulling on her Nightfox costume. I finished suiting up and went back out into the living room. Reeseg and Kena were gone, and the door to the hallway was open. I ran down the hall and up the stairs to the roof. They were waiting for me beside the grav bikes. "Thanks for letting us come!" said Reeseg, grinning. Kena nodded. "This could help convince UNTIL we should be heroes!" "Provided everything works out," I said, walking over and getting on my bike as a cold wind ruffled my cape and hood. "There's no guarantee it will. For all we know, the boy's already dead." "Is that likely?" asked Reeseg as Kena jumped on behind me. "Kidnappers are like human nitroglycerin—volatile and unpredictable. The main thing is to convince them they're better off keeping the boy alive." "Well, if they don't, we'll avenge him!" said Kena emphatically. "We may never get near them," I said. "And even if we do avenge him, that'll be small comfort to the parents of a dead child." Reeseg swallowed, looking pensive. I'd seen that look on the faces of other novice heroes. They think being a superhero is exciting and fun, then they're suddenly hit in the face with what a brutal, ugly business it really is. Not that he was any stranger to brutality, having survived in Moreau's fight pits on Monster Island. But there, he had only been fighting for his own life. When you're a hero, other people's lives are on the line, and you can't always save them. Julie came up onto the roof and got on her bike, Reeseg flapped his wings and rose into the air, and we all flew off together.
The address the woman had given me led us to an unremarkable two-story house in Orchardsville, a suburb of Millennium City. I took advantage of our travel time to do some quick research on the owners, accessing the city's database through the computer in my grav bike. The house was listed in the name of Henry and Laura Cole. They had two children, David and Ellen, both in their teens. According to city tax records, the Cole family's total income put them solidly at the low end of the middle class. Their house had a mortgage that wasn't remotely close to being paid off, and they had two cars with plenty of payments left on them. These were the last people on Earth I'd try to squeeze a ransom out of. Curious. Once we'd landed on the front lawn, eliciting stares from the neighbors, we walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The door was answered by a balding, middle-aged man who gaped at the collection of weirdos on his front porch. "What the hell is this?" he demanded. "Hello, Mr. Cole," I said. "I'm Nightmunk, and these are my associates, Nightfox, Reeseg, and Kena. May we come in?" "No, you may not!" he snapped. "I'm not letting a bunch of . . . strangers into my house!" "Your wife asked us to come, Mr. Cole," said Julie. His eyes bulged. "My wife?" "Henry," came a woman's voice from inside. "Let them come in." He turned to look back. "Laura, what—?" I didn't bother waiting for him to finish. I had my invitation. I slipped past him and went inside, and Julie, Reeseg, and Kena followed me. The Coles' living room was as ordinary as their house, furnished in Modern American Bland. In it stood a middle-aged woman and a teenaged girl. They both stared at me as I entered. Even though Laura had known what to expect, meeting a talking chipmunk face to face still gets a reaction from most people. Of course, she also hadn't expected me to be accompanied by two other manimals and a costumed woman. "Now wait just a minute!" Henry protested, following us into the living room. "Don't you need a warrant or something?" "We're not the police, Mr. Cole," I replied. "And even if we were, your wife invited us in." "Well, I'm inviting you right back out!" "Mr. Cole," said Julie, "we were told your son had been kidnapped." He blanched. "I don't know what you're talking about!" His expression said he knew exactly what she was talking about. "Mr. Cole," I said, "it's against the law to conceal a crime." "Who told you David had been kidnapped?" "Your wife." He looked at her, and she shrugged helplessly. "I had to do something, Henry!" she said, her voice breaking. "We need help!" "We don't need any help!" Henry shouted. "Not from the police, and certainly not from these . . . people!" "I beg to differ, Mr. Cole," I said. "You don't know what you're dealing with." He whirled on me. "And you do?" "I have had some experience in these matters. Of course, the police have had more, and they have more resources." He scowled. "The police don't do anything!" "Of course they don't. That's why all our prisons are empty." "Look, I've decided to pay the ransom!" "That's your perogative. But it's also no guarantee they'll give you your son back." "But they have to!" said Ellen, speaking for the first time. "They promised!" "They don't have to do anything, Miss Cole. Certainly not keep their word." She whimpered and turned away, and Reeseg went over and patted her shoulder gently, looking sympathetic. I turned to her mother. "How did they inform you what the ransom was?" "We found a note under the door," she replied. "May I see it?" She went into the kitchen and returned with the note, which she handed to me. It looked just like one of those ransom demands you see in the movies, with mismatched letters from various sources cut out and glued onto a sheet of paper. It said to wire $20,000 to a numbered Swiss account by midnight tonight or their son would be killed. No police. "You happen to have a spare twenty grand lying around?" I asked Laura, remembering the mortgage and the car payments. "My husband came into that much just recently," she replied, looking uncomfortable. I looked at her in surprise. "From where?" "None of your business!" shouted Henry. "It was one of those gambling apps," Laura said. "Gold Strike, I think it was called." "Really?" I looked at Henry. "Normally, I'd say you're a very lucky man, Mr. Cole, only under the circumstances . . ." "As you can see," Henry said icily, "everything is under control. So why don't you all just leave?" "You've decided to pay the ransom without even knowing if your son is still alive, Mr. Cole. That's a strange definition of 'under control.'" "Well, what do you suggest I do?" he exploded. "They've given you a deadline, which does give you a certain degree of control. They probably won't kill him until it passes, assuming he isn't dead already." I winced at a choked sob from Laura. "Once you pay, there is no control. They could kill him or release him—it's all up to them. Therefore, I suggest you hold off on paying until the last minute." "Why?" asked Henry. "Yes, what will that accomplish?" asked Ellen, who was in tears, with Reeseg standing behind her and holding her shoulders. "It'll give me and my associates time to find them and rescue your son." Henry laughed harshly. "And how do you intend to do that?" "I have a pretty good idea where to start looking." He shook his head. "No, I absolutely forbid it! You're not getting my son killed with your stupid heroics!" "You're in no position to forbid me to do anything, Mr. Cole. And has it occurred to you that your son may not be these kidnappers' first victim? Or their last?" "That's not my problem!" "No, it's mine." Henry lunged at me, trying to grab my throat. "Listen, you furry little freak—" I brought my hands up between his and pushed them aside easily. "Don't try that again, Mr. Cole," I said calmly. I nodded to Julie, Reeseg, and Kena, and we all left the house together. As we went out onto the lawn toward the grav bikes, I noticed that the entire neighborhood had gathered around the Cole residence to gawk at us. Henry came out onto the front porch, his wife and daughter standing behind him, and glared at me with pure rage. I couldn't blame him. He was one of those tough, proud, self-reliant men who always needs to be in control and hates to ask anyone for help, least of all a furry little freak like me. Now, he was feeling scared and helpless, and it made him angry. As Julie and I climbed onto our bikes and Kena got on behind me, Ellen ran out onto the lawn and grasped Reeseg's clawed hands. "Please, rescue my brother!" she begged him. The bat swallowed, his big ears drooping. "We'll do everything we can, miss," he replied. Then Julie and I gunned our bikes, Reeseg flapped his wings, and we rose into the air with the whole neighborhood staring up at us. "So, where do we start looking?" Julie asked as we flew. "Does it strike you as rather odd that the kidnappers would ask someone up to his neck in debt for the same amount of money he just won from a gambling app?" I asked. She nodded. "Almost like they knew he'd won it." I did some checking on my computer. "Gold Strike is operated by Integrity Financial Services. Their headquarters is here in Millennium City." "Isn't that interesting!" Julie said. "Maybe we should pay them a visit," said Kena, sounding pleased by the idea. "My thoughts exactly," I said. We all headed toward the hazy skyscrapers in the distance.
As we flew back to Millennium City, I used my bike's computer to run a quick check on Integrity Financial Services. They were an old-line company, founded in 1908, and had a reputation for being respectable and reliable. They operated several other gambling apps besides Gold Strike, but their primary focus was personal and business loans. Their CEO was a guy named William Whitley. They'd never had a major scandal. That could be about to change. I called one of my contacts, a gentleman named John Cowens, aka Kodiak. Besides being a mutant with the strength of a mountain gorilla and the physique of one as well, he was an FBI agent who worked closely with the MCPD. Since he was also an avid fan of our local football team, the Millennium City Capes, I made sure to always keep a couple of spare Capes tickets on hand to trade for favors. "Hey, Alvin, what's up?" came his deep, growly voice over my cell phone. "Hi, John," I said. "I'm looking for information on recent kidnappings." "Tickets?" "Forwarding them to you electronically as we speak." "All right, give me some specifics." "The families of the victims would have been instructed to pay a ransom to a bank account in Switzerland." I gave him the number. "That's pretty specific. Just a second." I waited while he checked the FBI's database. "Huh. There's been three like that in the past six months. We tried running them down, but we got nowhere. The victims were all returned safely after their ransoms were paid, but they couldn't tell us anything useful. Whoever the kidnappers were, they covered their tracks well." "I presume the Swiss were no help." Kodiak snorted. "You ever try getting information out of a Swiss banker?" "I'd rather try bashing my head through a brick wall. Can you give me the names of the kidnap victims and their families?" He did so. "You onto something, Alvin?" "Yeah, but I need more evidence before I have anything that could justify a warrant." "Don't tell me how you intend to get it. I don't want to know." "I wasn't planning to. Thanks, Kodiak." "Thanks for the tickets." Behind me, Kena giggled. "Must be nice having a friend on the force." "Comes in handy," I replied. "How come he doesn't want to know what we're doing?" asked Reeseg. I glanced over at him. He was flying a good ten feet away. "You heard that?" He grinned. "These ears aren't just for show." I decided to take the opportunity to educate him and Kena in the law, since they'd both be upholding it. "The Fourth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution says that people have the right to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects against unreasonable searches and seizures by the police." "But you said back at the Coles' house we're not the police," said Kena. "No, we're not, but if Kodiak knew what we were doing and went along with it, that would make us de facto agents of the police. See, the cops can't do an end run around the Fourth Amendment by having agents do illegal searches for them. Any evidence we found would be tainted and inadmissable in a court of law." Reeseg shook his head. "That's complicated!" "It's supposed to be complicated. Only in a police state do the police have it easy." We weaved our way through the steel-and-glass canyons of downtown Millennium City until we arrived at the office building that was the home of Integrity. I landed my grav bike on the roof, got off, went to the roof access door, and began picking the lock. "Why don't we just go in through the front door?" asked Reeseg as he and the others came over to me. "First rule of dealing with a big company," I replied as I worked. "Always start at the top. Besides, if the kidnappers knew about Cole's big win, it stands to reason they have someone inside Integrity. We don't want them to realize we're onto them." Kena looked up at Reeseg smugly. "And that's why he's the big hero and we're just a couple of jerks." Reeseg stuck his tongue out at him. "Speak for yourself. I'm not a jerk." "You are too." "Yeah, well, this 'jerk' carried your furry ass off Monster Island!" Kena groaned. "Oh, please don't ever let me forget that!" "You're damn right I won't! I almost busted my wings getting us to that yacht! If I hadn't flown my absolute best, we would have either drowned or been eaten by sharks!" "While you're busy patting yourself on the back, remember trying to reach that yacht was my idea!" "So what do you want, a medal? You got your reward—freedom and two weeks of screwing human girls." "BOYS!" shouted Julie. "Don't make me turn this building around." "Thanks, Julie," I said, now able to focus on the lock without their bickering. "No problem." The lock clicked and we all descended the steps to the top floor of the building. We emerged into a corridor, and I looked up at the wall directory beside the elevator: William Whitley, president, office 4409. I headed off toward it with Julie, Reeseg, and Kena following me. Whitley's secretary stood up behind her desk, protesting as we walked past her. "Wait a minute, what are you doing? You can't go in there!" "Trust me," I said without looking at her, "he wants to see us." I opened the door to Whitley's office. He was a silver-haired man wearing an expensive suit, and his office was everything the president of a large corporation's office should be—spotless, with sleek, modern furniture, an aquarium with colorful tropical reef fish, and a NordicTrack machine. Whitley rose behind his desk, staring at the two scruffy manimals and the two costumed nuts (one of whom was also a manimal) rudely barging into his office. "What's the meaning of this? Gloria, call security!" "You don't want to do that, Mr. Whitley," I said. "I'm here to save your job, and probably your company, as well as an innocent boy's life." "A boy's life?" asked Whitley, now completely bewildered. "What the hell are you talking about?" "I have reason to believe that someone inside Integrity leaked information to criminals about payoffs made through your Gold Strike app to big winners. Those criminals then kidnapped a member of the winner's family and demanded a ransom equal to the amount they won." Whitley blinked like a startled turtle. "That . . . that's insane!" "It would be easy enough to confirm or disprove," I replied. "All we have to do is see who Gold Strike has been making big payouts to." Whitley shook his head. "Surely you realize our company's financial records are strictly confidential. We have an obligation to protect our customers' privacy." "And I have an obligation to protect them from criminals. Now, I could take my suspicions to the police, and they could get a court order forcing you to open your company's records to them, but that would take time, and the ransom has to be paid by midnight. If we examine your records and discover there's no connection, then your company is off the hook and there's no police involvement, with its associated bad publicity. On the other hand, if it turns out the kidnappers do have an informant inside Integrity and you help me find them, you'll be helping to rescue an innocent boy and putting a bunch of criminals behind bars, which will do wonders for both you and your company's reputations. If you don't, then Integrity will be an accomplice to kidnapping, its reputation will be shot, and you'll be looking at some big fat lawsuits, not to mention the board of directors demanding your resignation. So what's it gonna be?" I stood before him with my arms folded, awaiting his answer. Whitley gazed at me for a moment, contemplating what to do. "All right," he said at last. He sat down behind his desk and began calling up his company's financial records on his computer. Julie and I went around to join him, while Reeseg and Kena marveled at the aquarium. Being from Monster Island, they'd probably never seen one before. I knew I hadn't until I'd come here. "I got the names of three previous kidnap victims and their ransoms from the FBI," I said. "Doug Alger, $14,000; Nelson Rodriguez, $22,000; Guy Pilgrim, $15,000. The latest is David Cole, $20,000." Whitley nodded and searched for the names in his company's database. He gave a sharp intake of breath as we hit pay dirt. "Oh my god! They're all there!" I nodded. "Daniel Alger, $14,836; Maria Rodriguez, $22,034; Arthur Pilgrim, $15,250; Henry Cole, $20,458. Looks like a pattern to me." "And those are only the ones who reported the kidnapping to the police and didn't just pay the ransom quietly," said Julie. "I don't believe this!" said Whitley, shaking his head. "Who else has access to this information?" I asked him. "Any senior executive would. Only . . ." "Only what?" "Well, with their salaries, it wouldn't make any sense for them to do something like this. The amounts are too low!" "Anyone else?" "The manager of the Gold Strike app, Hadji Sabatna." "Is he here in the U.S.?" "Yes, he works in this building." "How many people does he have working under him?" "Ten, I think. But each of these payouts was authorized by a different person. Sabatna is the only one who would have had to sign off on all four." I glanced up at Julie. "I think we ought to have a little talk with Mr. Sabatna." Whitley sank back in his chair, clearly shaken. "Should I call the police?" "Not just yet," I replied. "I'm hoping Sabatna can lead us to the kidnappers. My primary concern is getting David Cole back safely." I turned to Reeseg and Kena, who were still engrossed by the aquarium. "Come along, boys." Kena grinned and slammed his fist into his palm. "We finally gonna get to bust some heads?" "Hopefully, it won't come to that," I replied. The mouse looked disappointed but said nothing. We all left Whitley's office and took the elevator down to the floor where Gold Strike was headquartered. Employees stared at us as Reeseg and Kena smiled at them. Some began texting on their cell phones. Information about our presence was spreading like wildfire. It wouldn't be long before everyone in the building knew we were here. We had to reach Sabatna before he heard. We arrived at his office on the 30th floor, and I motioned for Julie, Kena, and Reeseg to wait in the hall out of his line of sight as I opened the door and went in. Hadji Sabatna was an Indian man in his early thirties, dressed in traditional Indian garb consisting of a cream-colored Nehru jacket and a turban. He was gaunt to the point of being emaciated, with hollow, sunken cheeks. He blinked at me in surprise from behind his desk, which was stacked with a surprisingly large quantity of Indian food in takeout containers. The savory smell of curry tickled my nostrils, making my mouth water. I love curry. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 10:32 AM. He was having either a late breakfast or an early lunch. Odd that someone so skinny should be eating such a big meal. "Mr. Sabatna?" I asked. "Yes. Can I help you?" He spoke with a lilting, musical Indian accent that, combined with his outfit, suggested he was a native of that country. "You can tell me where David Cole is being held." "Ah," he said, smiling. "I was wondering how long it would be before someone figured it out." That put me on my guard. He was acting awfully casual for someone facing a very long prison term. "I'm waiting, Mr. Sabatna. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that things will go easier for you if you cooperate." He chuckled, standing up slowly. "That would only matter if I were in danger of being caught, my little friend. I assure you, I am not." And with that, he began to spin. Instantly, everything in the office not nailed down began swirling around him, completely obscuring his form. I drew a throwing blade and hurled it where I thought he was, but it simply veered off course and joined all the other objects orbiting him. Then I was hit by a massive blast of wind that slammed me into the wall. My body armor absorbed most of the impact, but I was still stunned. As I slid to the floor, I recalled reading about a guy like this in UNTIL's files. He was an Indian villain called Dervish, and he was basically a living tornado. He was wanted by the Indian police for theft, and for vandalizing religious edifices—Hindu, Muslim, Christian, the denomination didn't seem to matter. Beyond that, UNTIL didn't know much about him. He'd never been caught, and I was beginning to see why. Julie bolted into the office, her telescoping quarterstaff raised to strike. That she couldn't see Dervish wasn't important. The skills she'd acquired while possessed by the spirit of a dead ninja enabled her to fight effectively in total darkness. She swung her staff and connected, and Dervish howled in pain, a moaning, windy sound. A moment later, Kena was in the room, but he couldn't see anything through all the stuff in the air. Then Reeseg entered, took a deep breath, and emitted an ear-piercing screech. Dervish howled again, the vortex around him wavering. Apparently having had enough, Dervish tossed out three curved Sikh daggers, which whirled around him like a swarm of razors. Julie's Nightfox body armor deflected them, but Kena had no such protection, and the blades sliced across his body, leaving scarlet trails in their wake as he squealed in agony. Reeseg and I were outside the dagger cloud, the bat gaping in horror as his friend was cut up. Then Dervish passed through the outside wall and was gone, the daggers and all the other stuff in the office falling to the floor. "Nightfox, help Kena!" I shouted. "Reeseg, follow me!" I charged at the window and crashed through it, hurling myself into space thirty stories above the streets of Millennium City, because I'm crazy. Actually, I'm not that crazy. For one thing, I was counting on Reeseg to come after me, though that presupposed him obeying my order instead of wasting time trying to help his injured friend. And even if he didn't, I had a grapple gun on me I could use to attach a swingline to something—like the edge of the window I'd just smashed through—to stop me falling to my death. So while what I was doing was reckless, dangerous, and stupid, it wasn't suicidal. Dervish was hovering in the air about twenty feet outside the window, a whirling cyclone with no discernible features. I wasn't even sure if anything could affect him, considering he'd just passed through a wall. Then I saw Reeseg's black-winged form shoot out of the broken window and swoop down to catch me in midair. Nice to see he could follow orders. He glared up at Dervish and screeched again, but it had no obvious effect. Dervish shot away, traveling at tremendous speed. "Follow him!" I shouted. Reeseg nodded and began flapping his wings hard, propelling us after Dervish, while I used the controls on my left gauntlet to summon my grav bike. There was a good chance we'd be needing it. Together, the bat and I pursued a living tornado through the steel-and-glass canyons of Millennium City. Dervish, I estimated, could fly about twice as fast as Reeseg could, which meant we were going to lose him quickly as we weaved among the dizzying skyscrapers of downtown Millennium City. Fortunately, I had a means of neutralizing his advantage. As Reeseg flapped his heart out, my grav bike pulled up alongside us. "Get on!" I yelled, jumping aboard. Reeseg plopped down behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, and I gunned the engine and tore off after the spinning cyclone shrinking in the distance ahead of us. The grav bike could fly about twice as fast as Dervish could, so our positions were now reversed. Dervish realized we were gaining on him and decided to stand and fight. As we closed with him, he fired a wind blast like the one he'd used on me back in his office. Fortunately, I'd practiced dogfighting with some flying heroes and I knew how to maneuver to spoil my opponent's aim. Dervish's wind blast missed clean as my bike dove and banked. I glanced back at Reeseg, who was hanging on for dear life and looking a little green. "Do your screech again!" The bat nodded and emitted his sonic screech at Dervish, who reeled, clearly not liking it. I wasn't too crazy about it either, as it made my ears hurt even though I wasn't in the direct line of fire. I'd been hit by the sonic screeches of bird manimals back on Monster Island, so I knew how bad it felt. Dervish retaliated by drawing away the air around Reeseg's head. I felt the bat's grip on me loosen as he started to pass out, so I grabbed his wrist to keep him from falling off my bike. I realized that if Dervish kept doing that, we were both in big trouble. I had to take him down fast. My bike was equipped with a plasma beam projector, but I couldn't aim effectively, since Dervish's body was obscured by the whirling vortex around him. I also really didn't want to use it for fear it might kill him, and apart from my basic reluctance to kill (I'd done enough of that in the fight pits on Monster Island), I needed him alive to lead us to David Cole. But there was another way. Reaching down to my belt, I removed a bolo and hurled it at the living cyclone before me. The effect was exactly what I'd hoped for. The cord, made of the same exotic polymer as my body armor, wrapped around the spinning Dervish, binding him neatly. He stopped spinning, cried out in horror, and began to fall. I dove after him, giving him a couple seconds to sweat before I fired my grapple, snagging him and reeling him back up. "What was that you said about not being in any danger of being caught?" I asked. "Let me go!" Dervish yelled as he squirmed and struggled, rendered powerless. "Tell me where David Cole is and I'll think about it." "Please!" Dervish begged, looking up at me desperately. "I cannot stand being bound!" I made a mental note of that. "I'd imagine David's not too happy about being where he is right now, either." "Want me to persuade him?" asked Reeseg, grinning at Dervish and flexing his talons. I shook my head. "Nah, he looks plenty scared already, hanging by a thread, bound and helpless, thirty stories up." "All right, all right, I will tell you!" Dervish cried, trembling in abject terror. "He is being held in a remote cabin in the country, about thirty miles west of here." "Give me the address," I ordered him. He did so. "Who's guarding him?" He looked reluctant to say, so I let the grapple line drop him a few feet. "Ahh! All right! There are four. The Piper, the Griffin, the Black Paladin, and Gunmetal Silk!" I blinked. "Wow! That's quite a lineup! I'm guessing the Piper is the leader and the others are all hired muscle?" Dervish nodded. "It has been a most lucrative enterprise." "I bet it has!" I scowled at him. "Nightfox and Kena are coming," said Reeseg, pointing. I glanced up to see Julie and Kena flying over to join us, riding Julie's grav bike. "Aww, did we miss all the fun?" asked Kena, looking down at the dangling Dervish and frowning. "Don't worry," I said, "the party's just getting started." "Hey, you're healed!" said Reeseg, looking at the mouse in surprise. Kena grinned. "Yeah, Nightfox patched me up! Left her pretty wasted, though." I nodded. One of her ninja powers was sha, the ability to heal herself and others using her chi energy. "How are you feeling?" I asked. "I'm good," she replied. "Good enough to determine if this creep told me the truth about where David Cole is being held?" Another of her ninja powers was jin, knowing the thoughts of others. She glanced down at Dervish. "Where is he?" Dervish repeated what he'd said, and she nodded. "He's being truthful." "All right," I said. "Let's go." "What about him?" asked Reeseg, pointing at Dervish. "We'll leave him for the police to find." "You said you would let me go!" cried Dervish. "I said I'd think about it. I've decided not to. I don't have a lot of sympathy for kidnappers." Dervish glared up at me. "Filthy animal!" I sighed and hit the release button on my grapple. Dervish screamed as he plummeted toward the street. I arrested his fall before he built up enough speed that a sudden stop might break his neck and deposited him on a convenient nearby rooftop. "That was mean, Alvin," Julie said. I shrugged. "So is kidnapping." I wheeled my bike around and Reeseg and I headed due west, Julie and Kena following. As we flew, I used my bike's computer to review UNTIL's files on the four villains Dervish had mentioned. They were a nice bunch. The Black Paladin, aka Sir Giles de Morphant, Knight of the Crow, had been the leader of a Satanic cult in medieval France. After being mortally wounded in a duel with Sir Launcelot, he'd been placed in suspended animation by a powerful witch, and had slept for centuries until he'd recently been reawakened. He wielded a magic mace that always returned to his hand when he threw it, carried a magic shield, and wore a suit of magic plate armor that allowed him to teleport. He was a ruthless killer who loved to fight heroes. The Griffin had once been a pimp named Carlos Digger who had gone to jail for murdering one of his girls. To get an early parole, he had volunteered for an experiment run by a rather unstable scientist who wanted to investigate human evolution using a combination of drugs, radiation, and bald eagle embryos. The experiment had turned Digger into the Griffin, a monster with the head, wings, and talons of an eagle and the fur and tail of a lion. It was strong, fast, vicious, and bloodthirsty, but not especially bright. Gunmetal Silk, aka Holly Graham Dowery, was apparently some kind of cyborg, though UNTIL had no idea where her augumentations came from, where she came from, or if Holly Graham Dowery was even her real name. What they did know was that she was a cold-blooded mercenary whose weapon of choice was an 11mm Ruger Hauer autopistol. She was supposedly quite deadly with it. Finally, there was the Piper, aka Rolf Hueller. Born in Germany, Hueller had once been one of the world's greatest classical flutists. He'd also had a reputation as an oddball, displaying weird, inappropriate behavior and a complete lack of social skills. When some street punks disrupted a free outdoor concert he'd been giving in Munich, Hueller had begun playing an eerie melody on a strange silver flute. The punks had promptly stopped disrupting the concert, apologized to the audience, then slit their own throats. Hueller confessed to the police that he had made the punks kill themselves, and was arrested and sent to prison. The strange flute had mysteriously vanished. Released after several years, Hueller found his career was ruined. Shockingly, no one would hire him, and certainly no one wanted to be around when he played. He had therefore become a criminal, specializing in kidnapping. His flute could produce a variety of sonic effects, including sonic force fields, a sonic screech similar to Reeseg's, and of course, the aforementioned mind control. According to UNTIL, his time in prison had made him even odder. "Aren't we going to call the police?" Reeseg asked as the rural Michigan countryside sped past beneath us. I shook my head. "We need to get to the cabin before word reaches the kidnappers that Dervish's cover has been blown. Besides, a lot of cops would get killed fighting these guys." "What about us?" "We could get killed, too." The bat swallowed. "Okay, then." I sent emails to Nighthawk and Lady Nighthawk telling them what I was up to so they could follow up in case I didn't make it. I would have liked to have had them along, considering the number and lethality of the villains involved, but I didn't want to wait for them. Every minute that kid was in the hands of those maniacs was one too many. I also sent an email to Kodiak telling him where I'd left Dervish tied up. It took us eight minutes to reach the cabin Dervish had mentioned, a small, rustic-looking structure on a private dirt road off State Road 36, surrounded by woods, nicely secluded. Julie and I landed our grav bikes in the woods about a quarter mile from it, and she, Reeseg, Kena, and I approached on foot, stopping as soon as we could see the cabin. Julie and I used our mini binoculars to check the place out as we sheltered behind some bushes. "I see the Griffin," said Julie. I nodded. "He's perched on the roof, keeping watch. He's got the eyesight of an eagle, and there's no cover within a hundred yards of the cabin, so there's no way we're getting near it without him seeing us." "Maybe we can draw him away," Julie suggested. "How?" asked Reeseg. I thought for a moment. "The Griffin is a predator with animal instincts. Both eagles and cats eat mice." I looked at Kena. "You want me to act as bait for that?" asked Kena, pointing at the Griffin. "It's for a good cause," I said, smiling at him. "It would be very heroic," Julie added. "Suppose he alerts his buddies?" asked Kena. "I doubt he'll do that," I replied. "He's not very smart." Kena sighed. "All right." I took a knife from my belt and offered it to him. "So you're not completely unarmed." "Thanks," said Kena, accepting the knife. "You've taken down bigger foes than him," said Reeseg, encouragingly. "With any luck, you won't even have to fight him," Julie said. "Here's hoping," said Kena. He took a deep breath, pushed forward through the bushes, and stepped out into the open. The Griffin reacted instantly, swooping down off the roof and heading straight toward Kena like a golden arrow. Damn, it was fast! Kena dropped to a crouch, holding his knife out before him, looking small and helpless as the golden-furred, eagle-headed monster with twenty-five-foot wings bore mercilessly down on him. When the Griffin was within ten feet of him, Julie and I each hurled a sleep gas grenade right in its path. Unable to turn in time, the Griffin took a double dose of the gas. It screeched and staggered, but it still wasn't down. It slashed at Kena with its razor-sharp claws, its bestial mind still fixated on the mouse, and Kena parried expertly with his knife. He hadn't survived thirty-eight death matches by not knowing how to block. Then Reeseg flew in and emitted his sonic screech, and the Griffin fell, unconscious. We'd barely had time to catch our breaths when the Black Paladin and the Piper appeared in the doorway of the cabin, and I swore quietly, as I'd been hoping to take the Griffin down without alerting them to our presence. The Black Paladin was a big man wearing a suit of jet-black plate armor and carrying a mace and shield, the latter bearing the device of a crow on a crimson field. His helmet was topped with the head and wings of a crow, and a crimson cloak billowed around him. The Piper was a thin man with a mustache, dressed in a tuxedo with tails. He looked as though he were about to give a performance, which, in a way, he was. Just for a very select audience. The Black Paladin vanished, reappearing directly in front of Kena, and swung with his mace. The mouse neatly dodged the deadly blow. So far, he'd been doing a very effective job of drawing the villains' fire, which was ironic, because of the four of us he was the least protected, lacking either body armor or questionite-infused wings. Julie and I leaped to his aid, Julie striking the Black Paladin with her staff while I slashed at him with my questionite talons. He grunted as we both hit, though between his shield and his armor, we didn't do much damage to him. However, he apparently decided that discretion was the better part of valor, as he vanished, reappearing on the front porch of the cabin beside the Piper. At that moment, there was a spray of gunfire from one of the cabin's windows as Gunmetal Silk hosed us down with her pistol. Fortunately, Reeseg was ready for her, spreading his wings and deflecting the fusillade of bullets. I turned to Kena. "Get around to the other side of the cabin and get David out of there while we keep them busy!" The mouse nodded and sprinted off through the bushes. Julie, Reeseg, and I advanced toward the cabin, the bat's wings raised to block incoming attacks as Gunmetal Silk blasted away with her pistol, bullets hammering on Reeseg's wings but not penetrating. I hurled a throwing blade at her, but she ducked out of sight and the blade just sailed through the open window. Julie tried to nail Black Paladin with one of her throwing blades, but he knocked it away with his shield. It was looking as though ranged attacks on both sides of this fight were useless. We were going to have to slug it out. Then the Piper raised his silver flute to his lips and blew a single, piercing note. Knowing who we were going up against, Julie and I had taken the precaution of inserting special earplugs in our ears. They could be adjusted to block all sounds above a certain volume and frequency, so they could protect us without hindering normal conversation. Unfortunately, even though we each carried an extra pair, they hadn't been designed for Reeseg's big bat ears, so there was no way we could protect him from the Piper's sonic attack. The bat squealed and clapped his hands over his ears, writhing in agony, and then fell on his back, depriving Julie and me of our shield. We had to act fast to prevent them from killing Reeseg. Julie charged at the Piper, swinging her staff. It struck but was mostly nullified by the shimmering sonic force field he'd erected around himself. I leaped and dove through the window, my arms crossed in front of my face, barreling straight into Gunmetal Silk. We went down on the wooden floor together. I had a split second to notice a teenage boy tied to a chair in a corner of the room, gagged and blindfolded, before Silk's foot rammed into the side of my head and my world exploded with pain. I rolled away from Silk and kipped up. I was still dizzy from that kick in the head, and my left temple was throbbing. Silk got up on one knee, the sun glinting in her weird aluminum eyes. She was a small, slim woman with short honey-blonde hair, wearing a black spandex top that left her arms and midriff bare, black capri pants, and black slippers. A combat harness across her chest held extra clips for her gun. Except for the harness, she didn't look like a mercenary. She looked like she should be going to yoga classes and PTA meetings. Nothing about her appearance indicated that she was a cyborg, apart from those eyes. "You're adorable," she said, with a sardonic smile. Then she aimed her gun at me. I lunged, knocking the gun aside with my left arm while I slashed at her with my questionite talons. I don't normally use them on living opponents because they're pretty lethal, but this woman was a known killer and there was an innocent life at stake. Silk sprang back like a cat and retaliated with a kick that struck me square in my chest. It felt as if someone had whacked me with a sledgehammer. I saw Kena climbing in through the window behind her, and I kept my eyes fixed on Silk's so she wouldn't notice me looking past her. While Kena crept over to David, Gunmetal Silk and I traded blows. She didn't use karate, kung fu, or any of the other Asian martial arts. Rather, she threw sucker punches, groin kicks, kidney punches, and other down and dirty moves of the type used by members of Millennium City's various street gangs. Which isn't to say she wasn't good. She was. Very good. So good, in fact, that I just barely held my own trying to keep her attention on me while Kena cut David's ropes with his knife. All the while, I could hear the trill of the Piper's flute outside and the clanging of Julie's staff against the Black Paladin's mace and shield. I hoped she was all right. "I shall stain my fingers with your heart's blood," I heard the Paladin say, speaking with a slight French accent. "How poetic," Julie replied. "Do go on." "Stand and face your death, woman!" Clang. Since Julie appeared to be managing, I concentrated on keeping Silk busy. Unfortunately, David chose that moment to stumble. Hard to blame him, since the poor kid must have been tied up for hours, but it did mess up the rescue. Silk's head snapped around, and she raised her gun to fire. I took advantage of the opening and leaped on her back, throwing off her aim. As David and Kena fled through the window, Silk rammed her elbow into my gut, which hurt even through my body armor. I wrapped my arm around her neck in a choke hold, but it didn't seem to bother her. She fired a burst from her gun at the wall beneath the window, punching a line of holes through it, apparently hoping to hit David or Kena by blind luck. I grabbed her gun arm and, using every ounce of strength I had, forced it upward. She whirled and slammed my back against the wall, splintering the wooden planks. Then I saw the Piper coming into the cabin, obvious displeasure on his thin, mustached face. Silk spun around, exposing me to him. As he blew a single shrill note, I leaped off her, and a beam of tightly focused sound from his flute pierced her lower back and came out through her front. The Piper gasped as Silk looked down at the bleeding hole in her belly. She seemed more surprised than hurt. "Entschuldigen Sie," the Piper said, bowing. "Don't worry about it," Silk replied, her voice containing not a hint of pain. She leaped out the window after David and Kena. I moved to follow, but the Piper blew a note and I was blasted across the room and through the wall behind me, landing on my back on the ground outside. As I shook my head groggily, Julie came running up to me while Reeseg swooped down from above. "You okay, Alvin?" Julie asked, sounding concerned. "I'm fine," I said, getting to my feet. "Where's the Black Paladin?" "He wasn't getting anywhere with me, so he teleported out. How's David?" "He and Kena are heading west with Gunmetal Silk in pursuit." "They're gonna need help!" said Reeseg. Before I could reply, the Piper stepped out through the hole I'd made in the wall of the cabin. He was smiling, seeming not at all concerned at being outnumbered three to one. "I've got this!" said Reeseg, his furry chest swelling as he filled his lungs and unleashed his sonic screech. The Piper put his flute to his lips, played a note, and the sound of the bat's screech instantly died away to nothing. Reeseg blinked, looking astonished. "How . . . how?" Julie patted his shoulder. "It's okay. It happens to all men sometimes." I glanced up at Reeseg. "Take Nightfox and go after David and Kena. I'll keep him busy." Reeseg nodded, picked up Julie in his arms, and flew off to the west as I turned to face the Piper. "Now you must pay the Piper's price, mäuschen," he said, still smiling. "Wrong species," I growled. "The mouse left with your victim." "Alles ist gut," he said, putting his flute to his lips again. I launched myself at the skinny, tuxedo-clad form of the Piper, slashing with my claws. I was faster than him, but I wasn't sure if I could penetrate his force field. It turned out not to matter, because the moment my claw touched it, there was a deafening explosion of sound and force that hurled me away from him. I landed on my back ten feet away and rolled to my feet, my ears ringing. "Nice trick," I said, grating my teeth. "Like the way you neutralized Reeseg's sonic screech." "I have perfect pitch," the Piper said. "I can duplicate any frequency I hear. And since all objects vibrate, it is a simple matter to identify the proper frequency, then either counter or amplify it." I nodded. "Pity you're wasting your talents on crime when you can play so beautifully." He raised an eyebrow. "You know my work?" "I own two of your albums. They're terrific." The Piper smiled. "I did not know you were a fan." "Why are you doing this, Hueller? I can understand why the others are. The Black Paladin worships evil. The Griffin is just a beast. Gunmetal Silk is in it for the money. But what's your reason? You used to bring joy into people's lives, not fear." He sighed. "You would not understand. No one does." "I'd like to try." "That is very kind of you, mäuschen, but I am afraid it is too late." A look of inutterable sadness and loneliness came across the Piper's narrow, mustached face. Being the only talking chipmunk in a world full of humans, that was something I could empathize with. Even though I'd been mostly accepted by them, and had even found one who loved me, there were still times when I felt very alone in the world. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, despite the things he'd done. Then he raised his flute to his lips and began to play. I recognized the tune immediately. It was from the finale of Act 1 of Mozart's The Magic Flute, the part where Tamino charms the animals with his flute-playing. But it sounded different, somehow, with a strange, eerie undertone. The world seemed to change. I was in an immense ballroom, with crystal chandeliers and fountains. Faceless tuxedoed men and faceless women in flowing gowns swirled around me as cartoon bubbles drifted through the air. It was like a scene from one of those 1930s musicals with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, and at the center of it on a raised dias stood the Piper, playing his weird tune. Julie came toward me, looking sultry and seductive in a long, glittering evening dress and gloves. She smiled a rather unsettling, predatory smile, beckoning to me, and I felt an overwhelming desire to join in the dance. Fortunately, I'd been trained to resist hypnosis, psionics, and other brain-bending techniques. I cleared my mind of thought, concentrating all my awareness on a tiny spot in front of me and blocking out everything else. My body trembled as I fought the complusion clawing at me to surrender myself to the Piper's fantasy. The Piper frowned as he played, looking at me with annoyance, and his features changed, becoming darker and more malevolent. He began playing faster, and the compulsion grew stronger. I felt my will starting to crack. Somewhere on the edge of my awareness, my right hand moved to my belt, as if it had a mind of its own, and removed a sleep gas pellet. While the rest of my body remained rigid, my hand flicked the pellet at the Piper. It burst between his shiny patent leather shoes, and he stopped playing, reeling from the narcotic effects of the gas. The ballroom, the dancers, and the vampish version of Julie all vanished as the Piper's spell was broken. He and I were once again standing outside a crude wooden cabin in rural Michigan. I rushed him, grabbing his skinny form and throwing it to the ground, and then swatted his flute out of his hands. It spun away through the grass. I snarled at him, my left gauntlet raised above my head to strike, talons gleaming in the sunlight. The Piper looked up at me with a rictus grin, his eyes wide and bright with madness. "Ja! Ja! Do it, mäuschen! Do it!" "Stop calling me that!" I yelled. I retracted my talons and slugged him across his face, and he was out like a light. I turned him over, bound his wrists behind his back with zipties, and then looked around for his flute. It was nowhere to be seen. With the Piper on ice for the moment, I took off into the woods west of the cabin, trying to catch up with Julie and Reeseg and render whatever assistance I could. I didn't have much hope that Kena and David could outrun Gunmetal Silk, and the Black Paladin could theoretically still be anywhere. Being a dedicated servant of evil, it was unlikely he would give up that easily. He'd want to pound us into the ground to prove the superiority of evil over good. And Silk had a reputation for being loyal to her employer, so she probably wouldn't bail either. At least the Griffin was out of the way. I heard a staccato of gunfire ahead and ran faster, hacking my way through the undergrowth with my talons. I broke into a small clearing to find Reeseg facing off with Silk, his wings held up before him to block her gunfire, while Julie fought the Black Paladin. David and Kena were sheltering behind a tree that looked as though Silk had been using it for target practice. "Your bullets can't hurt me, Gunmetal Silk!" Reeseg declared as she blazed away at him. "My wings are like a shield of steel!" "Are you for real?" Silk asked, smirking. The bat responded with a screech, which made her wince. Apparently, she actually could feel pain, or at least discomfort. She charged at Reeseg and swung her slippered foot around in a circle kick that connected with the side of his head, knocking him down. Kena sprang at her from behind the tree and sank his knife into her back as David ran off into the woods. She spun around, the knife still stuck in her back, and kneed the mouse under his chin, lifting him up off his feet and laying him out flat. She leveled her gun at him, intending to fill him with holes. I fired my grapple, snagged her gun arm, and hit the retract button, yanking her toward me. Silk was quick to turn the situation to her advantage. As I pulled her to me, she did a cartwheel and rammed her heel into my chest, knocking me on my back while she rebounded off me, somersaulting and landing in a cat-like crouch. I hurled a sleep gas pellet at her feet, engulfing her in a cloud of neurotoxic vapor, but she didn't even seem to notice. She leveled her pistol at me and fired a burst of bullets that struck my chest and stomach. Without my armor, I would have been killed instantly. Even so, they hurt like hell. I was starting to wonder if anything could stop this woman. Then I thought of something that might. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I removed a small disk from my belt and tossed it at Silk. It landed on her bare midriff and stuck to her skin. Instantly, it released a massive electric discharge. Silk went rigid, her honey hair standing on end, and then collapsed to the ground and lay still. I got to my feet, my body aching fiercely. My guess had been right. Cyborgs don't generally react well to electricity. "You fight well for a woman," said the Black Paladin, drawing my attention to where he and Julie were busy fighting. "Spare me your patronizing bullshit, Sir Dinosaur!" Julie replied. She swung her staff around in a blindingly fast arc that impacted on his shield with a loud clang. "Very well," said the Paladin, smashing down at her with his mace, only to be parried by her staff. "You shall hear it no more. I will simply crush your skull." "With what?" asked Julie, deftly knocking his mace out of his gauntleted hand. It thudded to the ground beside him. The Paladin laughed, flexed his palm, and the mace flew back into his grasp. "Foolish child! This mace and I are one. We can never be separated for long!" "Son of a bitch!" Julie swore, as she parried another blow. I began moving to help her when a shadow fell across me, and I looked up to see a familiar winged shape eclipsing the sun. "Waaaaaant mouuuuse!" shrieked the Griffin. Kena, just standing up after recovering from Silk's kick, looked up in terror. His knife was still sticking out of her back several yards away, leaving him utterly defenseless as the eagle-headed monster dove out of the sky at him with its talons outstretched. I needed to stop the Griffin in one hit, and there was only one weapon in my arsenal that might do that. I snatched a bolo from my belt and sent it spinning toward the creature as it swooped down toward the helpless mouse. The cord wrapped around it, fouling its wings and arms, and it plummeted toward the ground. As it fell, its body twisted in midair with astounding agility. It landed on its feet directly in front of Kena and lunged, snapping at him with its beak as he jumped back beyond its reach. It was apparently still fixated on the mouse and ignoring everything else. I charged at the Griffin. I was still far from certain that attacking such a powerful adversary solo was a smart move, but I had to get its attention off Kena. With my questionite claws and body armor, I stood a better chance against it than he did. I ran up and slashed at the creature. I remembered reading that gunfire had little effect apart from making it angry, but my claws were harder than bullets. They sliced into its golden hide, releasing a spray of blood. The Griffin's yellow eyes wide went wide, and it made a weird sound that was part lion's roar, part eagle's screech. Apparently, it wasn't used to being hurt like that. Its claws tore at the cord binding its arms and wings. My heart sank as the Griffin's claws cut through the cord like it was a paper ribbon. Seeing as it was made of the same stuff as my armor, that didn't bode well for what they'd do if they scored a hit on me. The Griffin whirled and glared at me, eyes narrowed with hate. I now had its undivided attention. Joy. The Griffin lunged, swiping with its claws, and I parried as best I could. Its speed was phenomenal, and I felt its tremendous strength right down to my feet as its claws glanced off my gauntlets. I retaliated with a cut at its head, but it nimbly dodged, tail lashing. I spared a glance at Kena, who had run to Gunmetal Silk's unconscious form and pulled his knife from her back, as well as picking up her gun. I didn't know how much use either weapon would be against this monster, but I appreciated the effort all the same. Bracing itself by sinking its clawed feet into the ground, the Griffin began beating its enormous wings, creating a powerful gust of wind that knocked me off my feet. I sailed backward, somersaulting and landing on my feet a dozen yards away. Kena opened up on the Griffin with Silk's pistol, not realizing the creature was bulletproof. The look of disappointment on the mouse's face when the Griffin just glared at him would have been comical if the situation hadn't been so desperate. Its bestial mind unable to focus on more than one enemy at a time, the Griffin forgot about me and charged at Kena, and I was too far away to help him. As the Griffin slashed with its claws, intending to eviscerate the mouse, a leathery black wall came down in front of Kena, blocking the monster's attack. The Griffin rawked in surprise as Reeseg unfolded his wings, grinning, and screeched at it, causing it to clamp its hands over its ears. I ran up and tossed a sleep gas pellet at its feet. The Griffin was now looking very woozy, but it still wasn't down yet. Seeing this, Julie knocked the Black Paladin's mace out of his grasp again and swung her staff like a Louisville slugger, knocking the mace a country mile. It sailed past us, then did a U-turn in midair and came rocketing back toward the Paladin's hand. Seeing where it was heading, Kena hurled himself at the off-balance Griffin, pushing it directly into the mace's path. The mace slammed into the Griffin's feathered head, knocking it cold, and the monster collapsed to the ground at the mouse's feet as the Black Paladin's weapon returned to his hand. The Black Paladin looked at each of us, realizing he was now outnumbered four to one. Arrogant and overconfident he may have been, but not stupid. "We shall meet again, beast-men," he growled. "Au revoir!" And with that, he vanished. "Yeah, you better run!" shouted Kena, shaking his fist at the spot where the knight had been standing a moment before. "Great teamwork, everyone," I said, taking out my cell phone and calling the police department in Ann Arbor, the nearest city of any size. "You all did a fantastic job today. Let's get these two back to the cabin. Reeseg, go catch up with David and let him know it's all over." "On it," said Reeseg, taking to the air. We tied up Gunmetal Silk and the Griffin, Kena hoisting the former onto his back while Julie carried the latter (who actually turned out to be pretty light, thanks to his hollow bones), and we made our way through the woods back to the cabin. David and Reeseg were there waiting for us when we arrived, as was the still unconscious Piper. The boy looked like a nervous wreck and thanked us all profusely. He'd been certain they were going to kill him whether the ransom was paid or not. The others did their best to comfort him while I searched again for the Piper's flute. There was no trace of it. Weird. A few minutes later, we heard the sound of sirens in the distance, and then several police cars came bouncing up the dirt road to the cabin and stopped before it, disgorging a cadre of police officers. Now came the most fun part of crime fighting: giving statements. We each spoke separately to officers of the Ann Arbor Police Department while they took custody of the three captured villains. The cops regarded Reeseg and Kena suspiciously, but relaxed when it became clear they were on the side of law and order. While this was going on, a newsvan from WPXD, Channel 31, Ann Arbor's only local TV station, arrived on the scene. A female reporter and her cameraman got out, and she began asking everyone questions. She worked fast, wanting to air the story on Channel 31's News at Noon and scoop the Millennium City stations, something she didn't often get to do. Reeseg and Kena made sure she spelled their names right. It was the better part of an hour before the cops told us we could go. We trekked back to where Julie and I had left our grav bikes hidden in the woods and flew back to Millennium City. We landed on the roof of our building and went down to our apartment, Reeseg and Kena throwing themselves on the couch while Julie and I went into the bedroom to change out of our costumes and into civilian clothes. "Wow!" said Reeseg, the bat sprawled on the couch with his wings spread. "So that's what it's like to be a hero!" I nodded as I walked past him to the kitchen to get some lunch. "Fun, ain't it?" He looked at his clawed hands. "I'm shaking!" "That's the adrenaline wearing off," said Julie as she came over and sat down between them. Kena shrugged. "It wasn't that different from a pit fight back on Monster Island." Reeseg looked at him. "I used to shake after those, too!" "The crucial difference is nobody has to die," I said, making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "I think you both did fine on your first time out," said Julie, kissing the two manimals on their foreheads. "How about one for me?" I asked as I came into the living room with my sandwich. Julie kissed me on the muzzle, and I smiled and hopped up into the easy chair beside the couch. "Hey, it's noon!" said Kena. "Turn on Channel 31! I wanna see myself on TV!" "Yeah!" said Reeseg, sitting up and grinning eagerly. Julie picked up the remote and switched on the TV, flipping to Channel 31. The WPXD News at Noon had just started, and we were treated to the sight of ourselves standing around outside the cabin, talking to the police. The lady reporter came up and started barraging us with questions, which we answered as politely as we could. She wanted to know who Reeseg and Kena were, if they were new heroes, were they friends of mine, did they live in Ann Arbor, and so forth. Reeseg and Kena waved at the camera, grinning, spelled out their names, and generally acted like teenage goofballs. When she asked if they had actual superhero names and costumes, Reeseg immediately announced that they were calling themselves Batfink and Minute Mouse and they'd be getting costumes soon. Kena's mouth dropped open, as he'd been pulled away for a moment when Reeseg had said that and hadn't heard it. He glared at the bat angrily as Julie and I tried hard not to laugh. "I don't wanna be Minute Mouse!" "What's wrong with him?" asked Reeseg. "He's a stupid sidekick! And he doesn't wear any pants!" "I'm sure we can work around that." Kena slumped back against the couch and folded his arms. "I'm not doing it!" Reeseg looked at him pleadingly. "Come on, you don't wanna make me look like a jerk, do you?" "You are a jerk!" Julie shrugged. "I thought the Minute in the cartoon looked kind of cute." "I don't wanna be cute! I want criminals to fear me!" "Girls like cute heroes," I ventured. Kena looked at me. "They do?" I nodded. "Why do you think Julie fell in love with me?" Julie smirked. "Like that was the only reason." "Trust me," I said, "as Minute Mouse, you'll have girls throwing themselves at you." Kena seemed to consider this as Reeseg grinned and winked at me. I smiled as I turned my attention back to my sandwich. This was going to be interesting.
Nightmunk and Nightfox must teach two new manimal arrivals to Millennium City the way of the hero by saving a boy being held for ransom by a gang of superpowered kidnappers.
It was enjoyable to read your narrative. Everything in it, including the humour, rhythm, and language, flows so smoothly. As a graphic artist, I think it would be great to turn some of this into comic or manga art. If you want to look into it jointly, let me know. DC: florencelynxx_ @florencelynx_8 on Instagram. And more socials are in my bio!
It was enjoyable to read your narrative. Everything in it, including the humour, rhythm, and langua
