Stella Scura Dark Star Rising Volume Two

By J. Matthew Neal

Stella Scura impulsively goes on a mission that becomes nothing short of disastrous as she is aided by a long-forgotten group of fourth-rate 1990s TV superheroes in a quest to learn more about her abilities and those of the strange young man from the Netherlands known only as The Orthoman. Along the way she learns of her famous heritage and that her parents are not who they seem to be. Can she develop a relationship with her newly-found friends and family while retaining her humility? Or will she become the greatest "rock star" of all time when fame goes to her teenage head?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dunn Avenue Press
• Release date: Jul 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781734937244

Book preview

Stella Scura: Dark Star Rising

Volume Two

Copyright © 2021 by J. Matthew Neal. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

Astronomical photos courtesy NASA/Jet Propulsion Laboratory/Space Science Institute.

Printed in the United States of America

Dunn Avenue Press

Muncie, Indiana 47304

ISBN 978-1-7349372-4-4

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Book Three:

Science Squad Unite

We do not have to become heroes overnight. Just a step at a time, meeting each thing that comes up . . . discovering we have the strength to stare it down.

—Eleanor Roosevelt

Chapter Thirty

M2 Technology Annex

2705 West State Road 36

Sulphur Springs, Indiana

Well, it took them about a week and a lot of money to pay off various creditors, but damned if Bella and Nick didn’t have most of Dr. Wendy's Science Squad assembled in the old Malvin catsup factory; after thirty million dollars of renovations last year, it was now the Mendoza Multinational Technology Annex, for lack of a better name. It wasn’t used for much right now, but it contained a modest, well-furnished living complex for his colleagues; the duration of their stay was dependent on their moods and level of interest in what cool stuff they saw. There was an adjoining par-3 golf course, which at least kept Kepler from complaining too much.

"What’s with all the cloak and dagger, Tinman? Johnny Kepler asked, shaking his head as he walked into the room. You said it was an utmost emergency, not a reunion with all these stinking clowns. Man, I can’t take this shit."

Great to see you too, Johnny, Todd DeOhmman said. I can see you haven’t changed much, and that’s not a compliment.

"Yeah, who are you callin’ a clown, Golfer? Wolfram Steele asked angrily, wheeling his chair in front of him and staring angrily. You think you’re better than anyone just because you’re famous now? Not all of us can be rich like you and Tinman."

Royce G. Bivereaux III laughed. "Rich? Kepler ain’t got squat compared to Bella and Tinman, are you kidding? Loser."

Sorry, man, I’m just tired of all this weird crap. And I’m sure not as rich as Stannous, as Biv said, the asshole. Finally, the Juriann dude came to see me, not you, so shut the hell up. Without me, none of this would be happening.

Huh? Juriann? Who you talking about, Kepler? Wolf asked.

That’s what you brought us here for, right, Nick? Kepler asked. Just you wait and see, Wolf. But I got a good thing going at Princeton, I don’t need to get messed up in this. If it has to do with the chief, it ain’t for me. I left her big sorry ass behind long ago.

"Wendy? Todd said. No one said anything about her! I’m so outta here if that’s the case."

Maybe you’ll change your mind in a minute, Bella said as she brought her guest into the conference room."

"Yeah, Amp, when you get a load of this dude, you’ll see he’s worth the trip."

Shut up, Johnny, Todd said. You don’t have to exaggerate.

"You all shut up, Nick said. For once, he isn’t embellishing. We have a guest, so look sharp, folks. You don’t want to miss this."

They stared as Juriann entered the room, dwarfing the woman beside him: six-five, four hundred fifty pounds that left them all gasping.

Lookit! I told you his big ass would show up here, Kepler yelled as he pointed. He ain’t human, he’s maybe twenty but knows damn near as much astrophysics as me, and that’s a lot.

Good to see you too, Kepler, Juriann said sarcastically.

You know him? Who the hell is this guy? Biv asked, looking up at him. Some football player? Man.

"Juriann Hultaar—you can also call me Orthoman."

What the hell does that mean? Wolf asked.

It means I am a—well, genetically correct man.

Hell, that damn shit’s beyond me, Kepler said. The rest of us are about as genetically incorrect as you can get.

Damn straight. But, why are we here? We were the shittiest heroes of all time, Biv yelled, as his facial tics suddenly worsened, mainly manifested as rapid blinking and making chewing noises. I know some of us have achieved some fame, but what is the purpose of any of this, Bella? You gone nutso?

It will become clear in a minute, Biv. Juriann, you’re a big fan of the show. Here they are, Bella said. An impressive lot, yes?

I can’t believe it, the large man said. You’re all here, just as in the original show, except for the two women, of course.

Yeah, Kepler said. The larger of the two we’re better off without. The others nodded in agreement.

But why have you all assembled for this fantastic reunion?

They’re all here to find out some questions about you, my friend, and assembled by the greatest force in history—private enterprise. No way do we want the government messing with you. However, the President is already aware of your existence.

The President? That would be an honor.

She shook her head. Well, not necessarily, because you haven’t met her, actually—

I see; perhaps I should reconsider that. I’d like to find out more about myself, too. Juriann shrugged. I think, though, that I am probably just the tip of the iceberg, the humble opening act to the main event that will astound us all.

What you mean by that, big man? Kepler asked, squinting at him. You’re talkin’ weird again, which makes me nervous.

Like I told you at Princeton, Kepler: the omnipotent flying one will soon be upon us. If you believe me to be interesting, just you wait. I’m merely a prelude for what is to come.

Todd spoke up. "Huh? ‘Flying one?’ Is this guy crazy, Golfer?"

Juriann peered down at him. "Ampere, I'm not crazy. You may find mirth in my words, but they ring true."

Kepler looked at Todd. "What do you think, Amp? Don’t make quick assumptions, as I don’t know what to think now. There’s weird crap goin’ on I can’t explain, so I’m gonna go out on a limb and agree that he’s right. Like Mini-Mendoza says, it makes better sense than anything else we got cooking."

Todd laughed and kicked Kepler’s non-human leg. "Go out on a limb? You’re a hoot, Johnny."

Hey, that hurts, dummy. Stop it.

It doesn’t hurt. You’re making that up.

Well, not pain, exactly, but striking it causes some unpleasant feedback, so don’t ever mess with my leg, or it will mess with you. Its microprocessor is pretty damn smart; it has ten billion times the computing power of the Apollo 11 computers.

Oh, right. Scares me.

Shut up, Todd. There’s some serious shit comin’ our way, let me tell you. Dark matter ain’t nothin’ to laugh at, idiot, it’ll kick your ass. My daughter Hanna saw it flying faster than sound.

You don’t know jack about it, Johnny, Roy G. Bivereaux said. Quit acting like you know everything about everything.

Despite his hubris, Kepler is correct, Juriann said. While my ways may seem strange to you, realize that I speak the truth—of the prophecy told to my adoptive parents by the deaf Russian one almost twenty years ago.

What the hell does that mean? Todd said. I don’t know any deaf Russians, but I did know a deaf person who knew like twenty languages, including Russian. Todd paused for a half minute. No way. Does he really mean—

Nick nodded. Yes, we know she’s in the thick of this, somehow. It’s the only way any of this can be possible.

But she’s been dead for over a decade, Todd said. That’s ridiculous. No one could’ve survived that explosion.

Are you sure, Todd? Nick said. Because I’m not. Most records of Rad Darkkin have been eliminated by Wendy and the DSD, but I found some old pictures from news articles and stuff Bella had. Juriann looks somewhat like Rad, who we’re pretty certain was his father. My guess is that the voiceprint is similar to that of the old Vladimirov armor as well.

Another child of Rad Darkkin. Just frickin’ great. I hope to hell he’s more stable than his dad, Kepler said. On the other hand, I heard Rad was the king of partying, so bring him on.

Yeah! Roy G. Bivereaux yelled, raising his fist in the air. We got the Prez’s little bro, or cloned big bro, whatever the hell he is— here chillin’ with us. I second the anticipation of partying.

Juriann nodded. You might be surprised. I am Dutch, after all. We know how to have a good time in the Netherlands.

I don’t believe it, Juriann, Bivereaux said. Your skin is tougher than anything I’ve ever seen. It took a mighty hard drill bit to damage your skin, and it seemed to heal within an hour, although it looks and feels normal. Strength is off the charts—you bench pressed over a ton without even breaking a sweat and maxed out at 7,700 pounds for twelve reps, which is two good-sized cars or one big pickup or SUV. Speed is pretty remarkable for your size. Endurance, pretty good, although we’ve not really begun to test your limits, my friend.

I’ve always been strong; I don’t know why. I guess I’m here to try and find some use for my talents.

Biv looked at the echocardiogram which Nick had installed in the lab area. Your cardiac output, according to my estimates, must be capable of twenty times you or me. While you can’t withstand a high-caliber bullet, you can survive in environments that would kill us within minutes. An orthogenetic man: a human whose genes are aligned perfectly, with everything functioning at peak capacity.

Except his brain. Kepler laughed. Somethin’ sure as hell got screwed up there.

Juriann frowned. "Listen here, Golfer. I am a calm, gentle man by nature, but I assure you that I can be provoked to anger. I tire of your incessant pejorative remarks about my intelligence, which surely exceeds yours, despite your exalted academic status. How accomplished were you at my age, Kepler?"

Well, assuming you’re about twenty-one, I had won two majors by then, so I was richer than your big-ass butt will ever be.

Okay, let’s go at it then. We’ll see what you’ve got.

Kepler put up his fists mockingly. You gonna fight us? That would hardly be fair.

A fist fight? Juriann laughed and stared down at Kepler. Of course not, how banal. I am superior in intellect as well as strength. I will, instead, be happy to engage any of you in the intellectual contest of your choosing. Let’s start with chess. Bring it on."

Uh, sorry, man, my bad. No hard feelings.

Yes, it was, Kepler. I heard Bella beat your ass good at chess when she was ten, so it’s likely you would lose to me, too.

She would beat your big butt too, Juriann. But back to the big picture: why us? Why here? Why now?

I don’t know. Something tells me that, while we aren’t related, that I can trust you.

From what Wendy had said, she and Alex had a half-brother named Travis Argon, who, eerily enough, was known as the Ortho-Man. This dude was engineered to be pure evil, though, and was genetically engineered to be a killing machine. Juriann, though, seemed to be pretty easy-going. However, if you were him, would you be threatened by anything?

Tinman’s Uncle Jim had also once mentioned a scientist, a Dr. Rita McPherson, who had initially helped another scientist named Malachi Argon with some pretty bad genetic experiments, but then came over to their side to help them turn the tide. (He didn’t tell Wendy he knew those things during her last visit; he could play dumb, too.) She then went to federal prison for only two years. Why would she have gotten a sentence that light for helping assassinate President Graham?

And, in 2021, she received a Presidential pardon (public record) from the original Ortho-Man’s half-sister, whose future spouse he apparently almost killed, per Jim’s accounts. Why would she have done that for a nobody?

Yet, his spouse was one of the wealthiest women in the world, which opened the door to many things, the most valuable one being information. He learned that a long time ago.

This guy seemed almost childlike in demeanor but had much inexplicable detailed knowledge of what was really going on. Why had fate brought him here?

Nick and Bella realized that, somehow, Rita might hold some of the answers. She would go there, woman to woman, scientist to scientist, and try to get some information. If not, she would kick some butt. Since she stood not so large at an unimpressive fifty-four and one-half inches and one hundred twenty-six pounds as she looked at herself in the mirror, maybe not.

Chapter Thirty-One

Biology Department Building

Wachsler College

Parkersburg, West Virginia

Bella drove up to the small building in a nondescript Buick rental car at about ten AM, after flying from Aurora City to Parkersburg in the M2 private jet. She was traveling to the biology department of Wachsler College, a small liberal arts college not many were familiar with.

The hermit-like assistant professor of biology she sought had an office in this aging building on the older part of the small campus. She walked up the steps and through the door; a couple of students did a double-take as they looked at the famous woman. One young male whistled. Little did most people know that this person had information many would kill for.

She knocked on the old oak door, the few students in the corridor seemingly oblivious to the famous person in their midst. With sunglasses, blue jeans, and a backpack, she easily could be mistaken for one of the students, which is what she wanted.

Enter, Rita McPherson said, eyeing her visitor carefully as she walked in. Or, maybe not.

Dr. McPherson, she said, entering the small, musty office and removing her sunglasses. Good morning. This meeting has been a long time coming.

Rita frowned as she looked up from her small desk, took off her reading glasses, and stared at her raven-haired guest.

"You have to be kidding me. Halloween was over more than a week ago. And that line is the corniest I’ve ever heard."

Too bad.

Yeah. I would think an Oscar winner could come up with something better than that shitty outfit.

Do I look like I want to be funny, lady?

No, I don’t think it’s funny at all, but I still can’t believe it. I don’t get many celebrity visitors here out in the sticks. You look like you blend right in with a bunch of stupid college kids, though.

Not today, I’m not. It’s one professor visiting another.

Yeah, right. Engineering—or whatever the hell it is you do now—and biology don’t mix, and I sure as shit barely qualify as a professor these days. But, somehow, I don’t think that’s why you’re here, kiddo—to socialize.

No. And I’m not a kid any longer, Rita.

Rita laughed. "Sure, you’re a big grown-up girl now, wearing makeup and everything. So what the hell do you want?"

"You are the one to give me some answers, she said, pointing her right index finger at her. Not the other way around, so get it straight."

Bad attitude. It figures. Rita slurped her cold coffee and sat back in her chair. Well, well, the pretty little rich girl is out slumming in her thousand-dollar pair of jeans, playing amateur detective just like her big auntie. Where’d that get her, huh? Dead. I deserved to die, too, but wasn’t so lucky. I wish I could’ve died in her place, after the life I led, but I’m doing the best I can right now.

Bella stared down at the tall red-headed woman and pointed a pencil at her angrily.

I’m rich because I’m damn smart. You’re lucky to even get any job at all, after what you did, so shut up and be glad I don’t buy this college and fire your butt.

What the hell? Rita pointed to the door. Get out of my office. You don’t know anything about me. There’s not a day that goes by I don’t regret what I did, Mendoza, but I can’t change history. You can’t, either. Money can’t buy everything.

Trying to change history and attempting to rewrite the future are two different things. You could’ve thought about what you were doing. No ethical scientist would’ve done that.

Right, easy for you to say. What if you were in a wheelchair and someone promised you’d be whole again? You might do a lot to get that back. You have no idea.

She shook her head. "Not me—I wouldn’t sell my soul."

And I did, ‘cause I’m not perfect like you beautiful people. But lookit where it got me: a Ph.D. and postdoc from Harvard, now teaching biology to a bunch of stupid hick idiots.

"You have to be thankful for what you have. I know a crapload about you. You do know who I’m married to, right?"

Sure, I read the supermarket tabloids and watch the celebrity channels with all my free time to stimulate my brain, which sure doesn’t happen here. You’re married to Stannous, the Greek energy guy who runs your company. So what? Why do I care who the hell you’re married to?

"Why? Because Tinman is Jim Krakowski’s nephew, that’s why. Sound familiar?"

What? Rita dropped her pencil. Krakowski—

You spent a few days with him and a couple of other peculiar family members and their vodka-swilling Russian pal in the Röntgen-Cave in Solway, Tennessee. Surely you could never forget that adventure.

Rita opened her mouth wide. "Yeah, I tried to forget about that bizarre experience, but you’re right. I heard Jim was dead, they said he got drunk and smashed up his car a couple of weeks after Darkkday. Figures. Not sure how you know all that, though."

I’m pretty sure that’s not what really happened to him, but most of the rest of our family is gone.

She shrugged. I’m truly sorry for that, Bella, no one deserves to die. But, about my fine job here, you can thank your other, much larger blonde auntie for that one, another favor she did me. Rita yawned. I’m getting bored, so what do you want, little Mendoza? Some of us have to work for a living.

"Hey, I work and get my hands dirty, lady, so don’t you dare talk down to me. You have answers, and I want them. Two words say it all: Ontario Lacus."

The hydrocarbon lake on Titan discovered by the Cassini-Huygens probe. Everyone knows about that lousy place, it’s old news. Big deal.

Don’t give me a bunch of crap. There’s irrefutable evidence Aurora is still alive. You might know something about that, I bet.

Aurora? She shook her head. That’s impossible. They all were right there in that plane when the nuke hit them.

I know—there’s some debate about who was responsible, and I don’t want to get into that argument, but there’s no other explanation for what’s going on. She survived. Bonnie did, too.

Really? But even your amazing ‘parsimony powers’ can be wrong occasionally, you know. You’re also not clairvoyant like your uncle. Rita paused. You know about the experimentation with the Ontario Lacus organism, the one that Malachi Argon used to experiment on your, well—other uncle.

"My uncle Alex Dirk Darkkin is dead. Darkkday, remember?"

No, not Darkkin; you have no clue, do you? She laughed. You really think you can handle the truth?

Why the hell do you think I’m here? The scenery?

Rita took a sip of stale coffee. "Alexander Dirk Darkkin and little sis Wendy Gallinsworth had a half-brother, with Rad Darkkin the father, of course, but who the hell knows how many other half-siblings are out there, too, as that man would screw anything with two X chromosomes. His name was Travis Argon, and they called him the Ortho-Man."

Yeah, she knew all that, and the connection to Juriann wasn’t completely clear, but it was all starting to come together now. Go on; this is quite intriguing.

I bet it is. I did a lot of research to help Dr. Malachi Argon develop him; I thought it was something benevolent, but he had made a special deal with Brant Gallagher to make super-soldiers for the government as an illicit project.

I know all that, and about Travis Argon.

But there was more. There was the microorganism stuff, for sure, but there was other DNA that was almost humanoid in nature, totally unconnected to the other. There’s no way it could have evolved that way—someone put it there. I was compelled to go to Mexico where I recreated that from alien DNA and made a special serum that I injected into one person for some reason. It’s like I was directed to do it. I saw the DNA sequences in my mind; there’s no way I could’ve come up with that on my own.

Who did you inject it into?

Who do you think, genius?

Bonnie? What? What the hell for?

Argon had theorized that some of her abilities might be incorporated into his super-soldiers. And that the combination of the Darkkin and Mendoza genes might lead to something spectacular when combined with this stuff.

And she let you do that? Hard to believe.

No, she was unconscious, but I thought it the only way out of a terrible situation I had helped create.

I still don’t follow. What’s so great about that mixture?

Jay Mendoza has synesthete powers too, not nearly as great as Bonnie, but substantial, and some thought he really was clairvoyant. Wendy has fast-twitch muscle proteins found in certain select elite power athletes, hence her natural gifts. She didn’t even work that hard at it, until she made her comeback at age forty. Few people could have done that after being that out of shape for so many years.

Go on. That still doesn’t explain much. They hadn’t seen each other for years at that time.

Rita shook her head and laughed. "You are aware that Madam President has bipolar disorder, right? Yet, you take everything she says at face value. Don’t be so damn gullible."

She nodded. Sure, everyone knows that, duh. It apparently was due to the pregnancy with Cassie, as mid-thirties is a peak age for bipolar disorder to present in women; in addition, it was also possibly a side effect of an antidepressant she decided to prescribe for herself. She was up-front about it when she was Governor and before the first Presidential election. It was controlled with medication for a while, then went into remission, I understand. She hasn’t had a problem for many years.

Sure, that you know about.

Maybe. Being a frequent guest in the White House, I’ve seen some minor mood swings, but she’s always been that way. What’s that got to do with anything? Get to the point, Rita.

She was raving on, claiming that Cassie was Jay’s child. That’s why Argon wanted her too. But Bonnie developed tremendous strength after that first injection. She went from one-seventy to one-ninety pounds in the span of several days without looking any different, with six times her original strength. You know as much as anyone about her. You played her in a movie, for God’s sake.

No, believe me when I tell you this. She shook her head. I don’t know anything about any of that stuff or Bonnie having extraordinary strength. Superb coordination and speed, yes, but not that. If it’s true, I’m sure it was classified and she never let on.

Argon theorized that, if the serum was injected into someone who later had a child, coupled with a partner with strong synesthete powers, that the outcome might be a being with great abilities, but nothing near what Aurora has exhibited. There is obvious proof now that this ‘other’ genetic material was from a race of super-beings, evidence of one which was here in the past. It had some characteristics of human DNA, but not of this Earth.

Bella sat down and laughed. "In the past? You’re saying that Jesus Christ was an alien? Like that’s a new theory, give me a break. You discovered God’s seed, huh? Aurora is the second coming of Christ?"

I don’t know, and I never said anything about Christ. But it’s a scientific explanation for such. And I mean over sixty million years in the past, not two thousand. This much is certain.

Go on.

Oh, what the hell. You’ll think I’m nuts, but I don’t give a shit.

I’m sure I’ve heard worse than this, but I promise I’ll keep an open mind.

I bet, but here goes: I was guided to do it by some force. I can’t explain it. I recreated things that were beyond the comprehension of any human. But it happened for a reason. And it wasn’t to help Argon create his super-being.

Was it God?

Damn, don’t be such a smart-ass, Mendoza.

She shook her head. Not my intent, Rita; I’m a very spiritual person, and I am genuinely asking if you saw Him.

Rita shook her head. I don’t know, never met the dude, we weren’t ever very close, but maybe things would’ve turned out differently if we had been. But people ask proof about the existence of Aurora the Angel. She rose out of her chair and walked over to the sink with only a slight limp. Behold her power—I was at Ground Zero having a few drinks at a party before preparing to go to some job interview at a community college in Arlington the next day. I was in my wheelchair. But the explosion put that interview on hold. Five days later, I was walking. Not as well as before, but it sure as shit beats a wheelchair. Dozens of others reported improvement in their medical conditions. A friend of mine’s incurable leukemia went into remission within weeks, and she remains healthy. You and Wendy were in Pittsburgh when it happened.

You are postulating the blast dispersed some of her energy towards the city, where it was absorbed by you and others.

That is the only thing that makes any sense.

The golf balls?

What?

Three golf balls traveling at several thousand miles per hour were launched with almost impossible precision in Oak Ridge, Green Bay, and Aurora City.

How would Aurora have known about your family if she’s still alive? I assume they’re in hiding?

She shook her head. Bonnie would know, and she’s bizarre enough for her to convince Aurora to throw them at those targets.

I’m a geneticist, not a physicist, but I’m pretty sure no one can do that—hurl something that fast at those targets.

Really? I think not. Aurora can shoot a free throw with almost impossible precision. At the other extreme, she has raw power that you can’t even imagine. Combine those two things, and you have something pretty special, believe me.

Rita paused for half a minute. That’s it, then. The contribution from Bonnie must have been the neurological and muscular coordination necessary to control that with absolute precision; that is amazing.

Do we know if any more of these fantastic energy beings you speak of exist nowadays?

I am no expert, obviously, but apparently, the last of their humanoid kind was in the DNA we found on Ontario Lacus, which originated from Mexico, which is where I went to find the fossilized remnants. I remember being directed to do this and an immense urge to incorporate that genetic material into the purest person I could imagine.

Whazzat? ‘Purest person?’ Bonnie Mendoza ain’t no Polly Pureheart, just so you know. Her talents, while extraordinary, have a very limited range of usefulness; she has abysmal judgment and is capable of tremendous violence.

Don’t I know. I watched her kill one of Argon’s stooges with her bare hands in Solway while Rad stood there and laughed. Later she killed Malachi himself. But Aurora—is she our Savior? What if Malachi Argon had gotten his hands on that girl? He could’ve ruled the world. That’s what he wanted, you know. When Wendy got whacked out and went around claiming that she was carrying Jay’s baby, he thought their offspring might be something useful.

But what has happened now, Rita? The current scenario we have isn’t that far off.

What do you mean?

Someone else ruling the world. Wendy is powerful beyond measure because of technology, much of which I helped create. Some of it’s been diverted into weapons instead of energy, but little has been done to advance medical science, which should have been her legacy, given her background. Remember that incident when the king of that one Middle Eastern nation refused to shake her hand because he didn’t shake hands with women? She told him to go to hell because the world didn’t need their oil any longer and never to set foot in Washington again. The USA now controls over seventy percent of the world’s energy supply, most of which is mined from Luna. The oil companies are nearly broke, and she doesn’t give a damn.

I agree. She could’ve spent more time and money on cures for disease and such. Not sure I care much about oil, though.

No kidding. Haven’t you been down this road before, and how did it end for you?

Rita looked down at her desk sadly. Not well. But maybe, if Aurora is still alive, she can be the force to balance the world out. Or destroy it. They each seem to be likely probabilities.

Yeah. We have a lot of further discussion to do, Rita. But right now, I’m very hungry.

Bella ordered some take-out Chinese which was delivered in about twenty-five minutes as they started eating the food in Rita’s small office.

Rita took a bite of General Tso’s chicken. Aurora, as a child, was not physically different than any other child, according to Wendy. Above average intelligence, but nowhere near her mom in that aspect. She was incredibly coordinated, though. And strong.

As strong as a hundred thousand men? A hundred million? Bella asked.

"No. Some other event triggered it. Her body, while not even as strong as Bonnie’s for her size, was limited. Native invulnerability is far less than that of the original Ortho-Man, so most of her ‘powers’ come from the manipulation of gravitational fields and being able to absorb energy, most likely dark energy, Wendy thought."

Dark energy, huh. What else?

Well, it gets worse. While I went to minimum security prison camp, the word is that Bonnie and Alton Lohrbach—

Who?

Lohrbach, the director of what used to be the Office of Scientific Intelligence, now known as the CIA’s Directorate of Science & Technology—Dexter Slabb’s uncle. He made Bonnie the director when he became Secretary of Defense for Reardon.

I heard about that, but that was insane, Rita. She had neither managerial ability nor people skills. The worst candidate for that I could ever imagine.

Yeah, but ‘insane’ is exactly what he wanted. He was an old friend of Rad, you know.

Slabb’s uncle was a friend of Rad? No way.

Rita nodded. Oh, yeah, back from the Cold War days. They cloned Travis, obviously using some DNA they got from the original Travis Argon. Wendy herself donated Cassie’s bone marrow to regenerate his blood cells, as they were a perfect match.

She knew all that, as Juriann was living in one of her condos and hanging with the Science Squad, but Rita didn’t need to know that yet. She was sharp enough to know who might not be trustworthy.

Why the hell would anyone want to do that? Wasn’t one bad enough?

The Vladimirov armor vidcam showed Rad doing some amazing stuff. The dude was in his late sixties, but he was actually sparring with Travis Argon. Now both of them may be in one body. But old auntie was as crazy as Rad. I know because I spent several days with them in Rad’s hideout in Tennessee.

Yeah, I know, so what else is new?

A lot. There were three doses of the special injection. Bonnie got two—the one I gave her, then the one she gave herself, but the third disappeared, so my guess is that Rad injected that one into himself. I mentioned your aunt’s augmented strength after that.

I don’t know about that; she was always pretty strong, but she kept to herself mostly after she went to the CIA and afterward when she left. I did most of the stunts myself in the second movie, although there weren’t that many. It was mainly about her scientific exploits.

Gee. Aren’t you the plucky little actress.

She laughed. I’m used to insults. But so what if they cloned that crazy old man or Travis Argon?

"Because he wouldn’t be old now. The clone may have aged a bit faster than normal. Meaning that if she cloned him sixteen years ago, he could be about twenty now, maybe a little older. And strong as hell. If someone found out about him, he could be perverted into a terrible weapon."

Or a great ally.

That’s right. Why do you think I’m telling you about him?

She might as well spill the beans, as she could use Rita’s help later, and Juriann was tough to hide forever.

Look, Rita. I need to share all my cards with you: he’s already here.

"What the hell? Orthoman is living with you, I assume?"

She nodded. Yeah—he’s in Aurora City.

No way can I believe that.

He is. But despite being, physically, all the things you say, he’s about as dangerous as a ladybug. Kepler told my husband that a dude like this came around asking about the golf balls, about Wendy, it all fits now. One more thing: how exactly does The Great Dame fit into all this?

It’s hard to know. Sure, she did come to see me back in 2012 at my minimum-security camp. She seemed to know something was up with Aurora, but I’m guessing you probably know all that.

What did you talk about?

Rita paused. "She told me over sixteen years ago that I would receive a full pardon when she became President for helping to save her life. She said that in 2012, a few months after the London Olympics, where she won her gold medal. I thought she was crazy, you know how she can be when she starts rambling, but with great energy comes passion, and everyone grossly underestimated her multiple talents. The cards were dealt her way, and she kept her promise; she may be a lot of things, but not a liar. Most Presidents give out their pardons when they leave office; she gave me mine a couple of months after she took office, just like she said she would. I told her everything I told you."

Yes, she’s known about this all along, as I already knew. Why didn’t she try to find Aurora, then?

She may play the dumb blonde like a pro, but she’s cunning, so she probably did, found them, then backed off, to save that secret for later, when she could best exploit it. Bonnie and Jim believe themselves to be the masters of stealth and computer hacking, but I betcha the Prez has some nifty secret files on all this stuff even you wouldn’t believe. She and her VP Robby Benton. He’s likely in on the dirty deals, too.

Maybe. But why wouldn’t she act to try and find them, then?

"Because she knew. About her invulnerability, at least."

I suppose I agree, Rita, I don’t know how, but that’s the only way they could have survived, even though it’s unbelievable. To what degree did she have those abilities then?

Then, not sure. Rita nodded and took a slurp of her soda. Wendy told a story about how Aurora turned a pot of boiling water on herself and laughed it off. I guess it’s much more enhanced now, as apparently, the only explanation is that she survived that explosion by absorbing most of the energy. According to what Wendy knew at the time, she could protect those in direct physical contact with her. Unfortunately, the small amount she didn’t absorb was enough to vaporize the plane and everyone else on board, but nothing else.

Yes, that’s what I thought. But how did they get down? That plane was at least a few thousand feet in the air when it was hit.

Don’t know. Guess they survived the impact.

Or—they flew.

What?

"You remember Gravi-Golfer."

Rita shook her head and frowned. Sorry, kid, I never watched that stupid show or the cartoon. But, yes, I know who Johnny Kepler is. We don’t run in the same academic circles.

He has theorized that, for the last year or two, there have been subtle manipulations of the Earth’s gravitational and magnetic fields. Not enough to cause any kind of problem, but he thought it might be due to dark energy.

"Dark energy, as we discussed. So, somehow I am responsible for this?"

You and some other power, she said. One other thing.

For you, sweetie, sure, Rita replied.

You said earlier Rad injected the same serum into himself?

Rita nodded. Yes, that’s correct. Rad exhibited the same rapid increases in strength and sensory perception Bonnie did shortly after that.

So he had the same DNA inside him that Bonnie had.

Presumably. I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely. The effects on another human being not selected for that purpose are unknown.

So Rad’s body could have possessed the dark energy powers. Distinctly different from those of Travis Argon.

Rita shook her head. No clue, it’s so complex even I don’t understand it. Yes, Bonnie had the DNA from the alien humanoid, but although she became stronger than normal afterward, she wasn’t invulnerable by any stretch of the imagination. Some type of extremely rapid cell division, like occurs in fetal development, must have given Aurora those powers. A meiotic rearrangement apparently has to occur.

Or different people get different powers.

Rita nodded. That’s also a possibility I had not anticipated. There’s no instruction manual for it, Bella.

I’m just worried about what might happen if someone dug ol’ Rad Röntgen up out of the Tennessee soil if they thought fantastic powers might be had.

I’ve made a few bad decisions, but even I can’t imagine what kind of imbecile would do something that reckless.

"After all you’ve done, you can’t? Well, my uncle is married to one who lives at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. That is, if it hasn’t already been done by the person who lives in North Pole, Alaska."

Bonnie? Yes, she might do stupid things, but for some reason I would bet on the former.

Yeah. And the Prez will finish the work that ol’ M-Square started if she thinks it will benefit her somehow.

And I don’t want to be anywhere around here when that happens. Rita took a sip of soda. One more thing you have to know.

What?

Argon had a nephew named Ramon Argon who hung around with Malachi sometimes.

What? Is he still alive?

I have no clue. I think he was more interested in computer stuff, though, although he did have an interest in biogenetics.

Would this Ramon Argon have any information on this stuff?

Rita shook her head. I don’t know, Bella. I was in jail for two years and the CIA took over the complex after Bonnie rescued us, but it’s possible he had some files from before.

Chapter Thirty-Two

North Pole, Alaska

1200 Zulu Time (0400 Alaska Daylight Time)

Paige had again heard the confidential reports on her pilfered military/police computer radio about possible Tosian or Taraqi fighter jets heading across Asia and towards the northwest United States. She impulsively contemplated what she was going to do about it and hesitated for only a second. Mom and Dad were in bed, but she could do this on her own. Asking permission to do things wasn’t in her adult nature.

This time she was going to damn well fix it for good.

Her parents stupidly thought she couldn’t figure out how to do this on her own, as even her arrogant mom and clueless stepdad, like most people, chronically underestimated a blind girl’s abilities. They could not have been more wrong, because damned if she was going to let Tosia or Taraq invade the United States.

She walked outside in the cool air to get to the underground bunker she had dug herself, two hundred feet away. Dad wouldn’t be happy she was doing this, but she was an adult now; she’d do what she wanted, and, with any luck, she’d be back by breakfast. She didn’t want to know what Mom would think. She would either be chewed out or applauded for helping out the U.S. Air Force when she returned.

She felt for the armored suit, which was in its case. She donned it, turned on the electronics, opened the outer door, programmed the flight path by entering verbal Russian commands, and took off again for the Bering Strait, near Russia, her mom’s homeland. Avionics indicated about twenty minutes to reach the area. Once she got the suit on, it was easy.

This wasn’t going to be a patrol like a few days ago. Some damn foreigners were going to get a real ass-kicking this time.

I am power personified.

No one can stop me.

Except me. And maybe I should.

I am a wise adult, capable of far more than others give me credit for.

You bozos are going to get your asses kicked.

Strategic Air Command

Eielson Air Force Base

Fairbanks North Star Borough, Alaska

1220 Zulu Time (0420 Alaska Daylight Time)

Staff Sgt. Ron Shoemaker couldn’t believe what he saw on his radar screen as he opened his mouth wide and spilled his coffee.

What is it, Shoemaker?

Sir, I see what again appear to be rogue Tosian fighter jets that just crossed the Bering Strait. This happened about forty minutes ago also, as you know. We don’t know the intent, but given that these fighters often carry missiles, it isn’t good, most likely.

That’s impossible, Staff Sergeant, Major Anthony Saxon said.

There it is, sir.

Come on. Are we certain they’re real? That would be suicide.

They appear to be, Major. If they’re cyber-mirages, they’re incredibly good tech. They have mass and heat signatures as well.

Why would they do that? It’s insane. Where are they going?

Yes, sir. They appear to be flying parallel to the International Date Line for some reason.

Tosia isn’t a country with all its marbles, mind you, and the Russians gave them some nice planes, so now they think they’re hot shit. Well, send some sentries out there, just to be sure. And make sure the news feeds don’t get hold of it.

Yes, sir.

Damn, that’s all we need. I guess it’s not like anyone close has the ability to interfere.

Major—wait a minute.

Yes, Staff Sergeant?

There’s something else out here.

I don’t see anything on radar, Saxon said.

It isn’t visible on radar, sir, but it leaves faint air turbulence and a unique carbon signature. It’s barely detectable, but it’s there.

What?

Similar turbulence and residual spectroscopic signature to what was seen in New Persia a couple of weeks ago.

Carbon signature? Be more specific.

Shoemaker nodded. C60. It’s definitely buckminsterfullerene, sir, no question, nothing else looks like that.

Holy shit. Do you know what that means?

The staff sergeant nodded. I think so, sir.

The White House

Situation Room

1244 Zulu Time (0844 Eastern Daylight Time)

Madam President, SecDef Thomas Ashburn said as they stood in the White House Situation Room. It’s back, and we don’t know if it’s the alien or not. It’s the same one seen at the New Persian border at Graham Army Base when Thomasson was retrieved, and likely the same one flying over various points in midwest America weeks ago. It is believed to have been seen less than fifteen minutes ago at the Bering Strait, over Little Diomede.

I know all that, Tom. Don’t waste my time.

The molecular spectroscopic analysis shows its armor to be hardened carbon, in a rare configuration—

She sighed. "A rare configuration and allotropic form of carbon called buckyballs, or buckminsterfullerenes; yes, we’ve been over that, too. The hardest substance on Earth, far harder than natural diamond, yeah, yeah. I am a scientist, you know."

Yes, Ma’am, Gen. Larry Kriger said. But there were rumors of the Russian government having experimented with prototype suits of this nature in the late 1980s to early 90s. So that’s all we know. Curiously, records regarding that appear to have been eliminated from every database we have.

"We’ve been through all that before as well, and I wish I had them, General, but it was probably worthless information to begin with.