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To the Victor… “Good news today,
class. You won’t need your books, or even a notepad.
We’re just going to discuss some current events. Of course,
if I think anyone isn’t paying attention, I’ll be asking for a summary report
due at the start of class tomorrow.” Many in the class groaned at
the words. “Before we really get
started, is there anyone here that does not know what Zigursky Prison
is?” No hands went up. “For those too shy to admit
it, Zigursky Prison is the local prison in Brickstown. It is home
to some of the most vile human, and near human, beings ever captured in
“Last week, some group from
the Rogue Isles broke out many of the inmates, while many more escaped back to
the streets of the city. That’s what I’d like to talk about
today. Does anyone have some opening thoughts on the
matter?” A girl in the back, dressed
in black and gray camouflage pants and a black shirt with a bright pink heart on
it raised her hand. A pretty blond girl a few rows over rolled her
eyes. “Kym. Go
ahead. Debi, you’re next.” The first girl glanced over
at the other, then spoke. “I really don’t see that it will change
things much. I mean, most were gang members, so odds are, they
will just go back to their gangs. Maybe once they get back in,
they will run into problems with too many people in the gangs now, and that
could lead to turf wars, but most of it should be either gang on gang or
internal gang fighting. I really don’t see it affecting normal
people all that much.” “But,” began
Armstrong. “The police will still be pulled into it, and that will
draw them away from their other duties. That’s something that will
affect everyone.” “Paragon has plenty of
heroes though. They can augment the police force.”
This was met with several stifled laughs around the room, and one very
loud and sarcastic “HA!”. “Debi. You
seemed to have a comment on this?” “Just that, ya’ know, most
of the heroes in this town are getting to be as bad as the gangs.
I don’t think I’d trust any of them to come and save
me.” “Kym, do you have response
to that?” “Yeah. Where
was the last time a hero actually did harm to a citizen? The
actual time and place? You just repeat what you hear on the news,
but you don’t actually listen to it. I guess that’s to be expected
from a cheerleader, huh? Someone shouts, and you repeat
it.” “Gah, jealous much?” snapped
Debi. “And second, what makes you
think you’d be worth saving. It’s not like you have a
future. You’ll probably be knocked up for graduation and working
at the mall ‘til you die of an overdose in the bathroom.” Debi started to stand up,
but Kym was on her feet in a flash. “Kym! That’s
enough! I want a discussion not a brawl. Both of
you. Sit. Down!” “It won’t last long enough
to be a brawl,” said Kym as she winked quickly at Debi and they both took their
seats. “You’d have to get through
Rick to get to me, you freak!” “Hell, you made it through
the whole team in what? A weekend? I don’t think it
would take long to get through one of them.” “STOP IT! The
next one of you that speaks gets detention. I want a serious
discussion, not some childish name calling. Debi actually had a
good point. As did Kym. For a second.
Heroes have always been here for us, but there are a lot of stories in
the news right now that they might be failing us. As Kym pointed
out, many of those are just stories. We don’t have the facts to
really examine them for ourselves. It does bring up the next point
I wanted to talk about, however. How many of you have ever had a
face to face dealing with a hero?” Three hands were
raised. “And of you three, were you
happy to see the hero arrive?” All said they
were. “Did the hero do anything
that you think was overly aggressive?” None
did. “So it’s safe to say that in
this class, one hundred percent of all hero encounters have been
positive. But the news makes it sound like they are more of a
menace than the gangs. Why would that be the case?
Yes, Mike?” “Because people watch the
news to see what happened. People only really care about the bad
stuff, so that’s what the news puts on. I used to live in a much
safer town. We’d have maybe 30 murders a year total.
The news would always talk about one when it happened, but I never once
saw a story that said no one had been killed that day.” “Good.
Excellent point. The news doesn’t really focus on the bad,
though. It focuses on the different. If it’s normal
for no one to be murdered, then there is no sense is wasting time telling
everyone that nothing happened. Kym, you have a comment?
A civil one?” “But it doesn’t focus on the
different. I mean, okay, the break out was a big deal, but every
night there is another story about some rumor about a hero hurting
someone. Every night. And it’s always the
same. No names, no locations, no details of any kind.
Why even report it unless there is something bigger going
on?” “Paul? Would
you like to answer her question?” “Um, sure.
Because it’s not that the attacks are out of the norm any more, it’s that
they are out of the normal expectation. People don’t expect heroes
to beat them up, so when it happens, even if it happens every day, it’s
news.” Kym bristled.
“And I would agree with that, if there was any sign that it was actually
true. I mean, it’s like the news channels are all playing some
joke on the city. They’re telling us all this stuff to see what
we’ll accept, but they can’t actually prove any of it.” “How do you know they
can’t?” asked the teacher. “They haven’t yet.
‘Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence’. Carl
Sagan said that, and it holds just true for the local news as it does for
anything in cosmology. Heroes running amok is an extraordinary
claim. A news report that gives no time, location, or names of
anyone involved is not extraordinary proof, but people are eating it up.
It’s like we’re all just willing to be led wherever they want us to
go. Well, screw them! I ain’t
going.” “Yes, Debi?
You have a comment?” “Yeah. If you
think it’s fake, then where is your proof?” “The burden of proof is on
them. They are the ones saying this is
happening.” “But you’re saying it’s
not. You need proof too.” “Let me see if I can explain
it to you this way. Let’s say that I accuse you of stealing a
cheer from another school. How could you prove I was lying?
You couldn’t. You would have to get a recording of every
cheer ever done from every school that has ever existed. Even
then, I could just say that you missed a school, or they didn’t provide you with
all of their stuff. The burden would be on me to show that your
cheer was nearly an exact duplicate of the one from Emmerson High, or
wherever. Just accusing you isn’t enough. I need to
back it up with real evidence. It’s the same thing with the
news. Just because they show it, it doesn’t make it
true.” Mrs. Armstrong spoke
again. “Kym is actually right in this regard. The
news is not living up to their end. Can anyone think of
why? Mike?” “Nope.” “Kym?” “Probably Money.
It’s usually money.” Debi made a loud, fake
laugh. “HA! Money? How does the news make any money
off of lying?” “Advertising.
If all the news places get the same stories, they have to run them,
rather than risk being the only station in town that doesn’t. If
people think they miss something by watching one channel, then they’ll stop
watching it, ratings will drop, advertisers will leave, and we end up with even
more crap TV. Why do you think reality TV is on everywhere
now? It’s cheap to make, and people are dumb enough to watch
it. That gives it a huge profit margin so the networks love it,
and it’s the relatively few people that like good, well written, well acted
shows that suffer for it.” “God you’re
cynical.” “Maybe so. It
seems to work for me though. How has being a gullible sponge
treated you? Oh, right.
Cheerleader.” “KYM!
Out! Now! You know the
way.” ~~~~~ Mr. Marsden closed the door
behind him and looked around the room. Everything was still
there. His wife came in from the kitchen to greet
him. “Oh, thank God.
I was getting worried.” She threw her arms around
him. “I know. I’m
sorry I’m late. The police had check points set up all over. Where
there weren’t cops, there were heroes or gangs. I just don’t get
what’s happening.” “The news said more heroes
are at it again. This time the reports were from all
over.” “I don’t know which is worse
anymore. It’s getting to where I’m jumping at shadows.
I asked about a transfer today. The boss said he’d look
into it but there is quite a list of people wanting to get out
already.” ~~~~~ Detective Betton entered the
stationhouse and threw his jacket onto his chair. Court hadn’t
gone well at all. “Case
dismissed.” The words echoed through his
mind. He had seen the shooting, chased the person who pulled the
trigger for two blocks, caught up to him without once losing sight of him,
recovered the gun proven to be the murder weapon from the hand of the man he
chased, and the judge throws it out because the defense had a picture of a man
wearing a similar shirt running away from the scene of the shooting.
This wasn’t the first time either. That judge had a
reputation for not actually presiding over a trial. Few cases that
weren’t newsworthy were given his attention. Time would get
him. Bad things happen to bad people.
Sooner or later, Judge Evers
would go down. Hard. ~~~~~ Dr. Jensen sat in her
office, listening to patient after patient go on about how worried they were
that the heroes were somehow turning against the city. It was all
she could do to remain objective and helpful as each one talked about how
frightened they were of her peers. She tried to point out just how
silly the reports were, and that the press was blowing things out of proportion,
but it was clear that the damage was done. For many it wasn’t just
the stories of rogue heroes, it was also the breakout, or the seeming failures
of the police to make a case against even the most common
criminal. More grating than any of
that, at least as far as she was concerned, was the praise so many seemed to
heaping on Danforth. He was being lauded as the light which was
guiding the city though troubled times. His vehicles going to the
police would reduce costs and allow more officers to be hired. He
was boldly speaking out against the hero community, despite the death
threats. Many said that he should be elected to some public
office. In the chair beside them, Dr. Jensen listened and did her
best to understand, while the part of her that was Epim cringed at every
word. ~~~~~ Tog stepped up to the podium
and waited for those assembled to settle down. “Ladies and
Gentlemen. Thank you for coming to this, the grand opening of
“Finally, I’d like to thank
all of the heroes who have offered to teach the up and coming generation the
ropes; whether you are on staff or not. Whether you were helping
them out for the benefit of the city, or simply because they were scaring the
hell out of you by doing what they were doing. Thanks for passing
along what you know.” “Tog!
Tog! Justine Almage here, with a
question.” “Yes. Go
ahead.” “What will you be doing to
control these new heroes, to stop them from acting out the way so many others
are doing?” “That’s sort of a loaded
question. As far what we’ll be doing to control them goes.
We won’t be. They will be free to make their own
choices. We will teach them, and hopefully instill a sense of
honor and responsibility, but we won’t ever try to control them.
If any member of the student body or staff is shown to be involved with
anything that goes against the code, then sanctions will be made, but so far,
there is only one confirmed instance where a hero was actually identified doing
something like what you suggest. I talked to him personally after
the incident, and based on that, I passed around my recommendation to all other
groups that he not only not be admitted to their groups, but that he be viewed
as a potential threat.” “Do you deny the reports
that have been on every news channel in the city for
months?” “I don’t deny the reports,
no. I just question their accuracy.” “You’re accusing the media
of lying then?” Tog’s voice raised as he
spoke. “No. I’m not ‘accusing’ anyone of
anything. I’m stating, flat out, that when you report that
someone, somewhere, witnessed something, but refuse to tell
who, where, or what it’s not news. It’s a
rumor. Get the full story, with sources, then it’s news.
Right now you have all the credibility of Herbie the
Hobo.” Mourning was already rushing
forward along with Lista. “Plan?” asked
Lista. “Encase his head in ice if
you have to, just get him to shut up.” The pair landed on the
platform and as Lista whispered in Tog’s ear, Mourning announced that he was
needed elsewhere and that she would be handling the rest of the opening.
As she spoke, Tog’s face changed. He gave a quick wave,
then leaped into the air behind Lista. Later, when all had returned
to the base, he apologized to Marcus and HAAL for letting his temper get away
from him. “What did Lis’ say to you to
get you to stop talking so quickly?” asked Marcus. “She said, ‘Pull, you
idiot’.” “That’s
it?” “Long story.
It was her way of letting me know that I was making an ass out of myself
and that nothing useful could come from where I was
going.” “Well, Mourning did a good
job at smoothing the ruffled feathers.” HAAL’s melodic voice spoke
up. “It may have been helpful. We got several new
contacts today, shortly after the interview. A few said that they
were happy to see that someone was still on their side.” “Wow,” said Marcus.
“Are you saying that all this bad press is actually stopping new
heroes from getting out there?” “That was the
implication.” “Well that’s not
good.” Athena’s alert chimed to let
the room know there was a message for one of them. “Tog, you have
a telephone call.” “Can you put it through to
the room here?” “Certainly.” Tog moved over to the phone
and spoke quietly to the person on the other end while Marcus and HAAL
talked. When the call ended, he returned to the table and sat
down, obviously stunned. “Everything okay?” asked
Marcus. “Justine Almage wants to
talk. Off the record.” “Probably a trap of some
kind.” “I mentioned that.
She said that anywhere and anytime I want is good for
her. “Athena?” “Yes,
Tog.” “If I set up a room in the
visitors lounge, could you sweep it for all electronic devices, or any other way
that a person could record a conversation short of actually writing it
down.” “Yes.” “I’ll need such a room the
day after tomorrow at about “I will make the
arrangements.” The following morning, Tog
got a message that fourteen new students enrolled in the class the previous
day. Most were young, and new to the life, but there were a few
veterans as well. That afternoon saw the first
of many full teams of training missions sweeping the streets, of
Justine Almage arrived the
next day, right on time. The quick scan for any electronic devices
revealed nothing, and she was shown into the room where Tog was
waiting. “Before you start,” he
said. “I’d like to apologize for my temper. It
probably doesn’t help my case any when I go off like
that.” “No need. I
understand perfectly. And that sort of brings me to the reason for
this meeting. You are definitely passionate about what you
do. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t get so upset with me.
At the same time, I never once got the feeling that you would actually
hit me, even if you could. You might goad me into hitting you so
you could hit back, but that’s not the same thing in my
eyes.” “Yeah. I tend
to do that. Sorry.” “Look, the stuff you said is
true. We don’t have anything solid. We get the same
stories that all the other stations get. We’ve got at most two
hours to get them ready to air. Every time we suggest following
them up, the editor shoots it down, saying the station owners will be upset if
we fall behind in ratings.” “So, it’s more important to
popular than accurate?” “Yes. And I
hate that, but there aren’t a lot of other career options for a reporter that
ignores her editor.” “Surely ‘journalistic
integrity’ still matters in some places.” “Yes, it does.
But the waiting list to get to a job where a reporter can actually report
are choice spots. The people that have them basically have to die
before a spot opens up, and that causes a rush from all over the country to get
in. “It’s always been this way
to some degree. That sappy human interest piece at the end of
every broadcast? It’s only there to try to end on a high
note. After 40 minutes of death, and destruction, a 20 second clip
of a gopher on a wakeboard will make everything better,
right?” “So what are you here
about?” “I’ve been doing some off
the record digging and I found some stuff that is way out of my league.
I’m prepared to get it to you, or anyone you name, on two
conditions. First, no one can know it came from me.
I’m pretty sure that would be the end of much more than just my
career. Second, on the record, in public, I will still be spewing
the same old crap, possibly busting your butt in the process. That
can’t change until this is resolved.” “I’m okay with both of
those, but I want to know what you found.” “I know where to find a
paper trail that shows what I think is a huge conspiracy. I don’t
know how big it is, or what the ultimate goal is, but I do know that Judge Evers
is a part of it. Those attacks on the new governors back in
February were part of it too. What’s more, it’s happening all over
the country.” “And you have actual,
physical proof of this?” “Yes. Well,
sort of. I didn’t read it all, but I scanned it and stored it on a
flash drive. I had to hide the flash drive when I heard someone
coming, but I’m positive it’s still there. I tried to get it a few
days ago but I didn’t get left alone. Of the stuff I did see, I’m
sure that all of it can be independently verified, once you know where to
look. What’s wrong? “I’d like to have you
watched over for a few days.” “To see if I’m
lying?” “No. I watched
a lot of movies as a kid. No one mentions evidence they don’t have
on hand and lives more than 15 minutes. It’s one of the nine ways
to ensure a character’s demise.” “That’s the
movies.” “I hang out with people that
fly and shoot ice shards from their palms. Indulge me.
Besides, there is a connection here to a lot of other stuff we’ve been
working on.” “Like
what?” “Still totally off the
record?” “Yes. I
swear.” “The attacks on the
governors were tied in directly with the riots the previous
October.” “Speculation?” “Provable fact.
We have a direct link between them.” “What is it?”
She slid forward on her chair. “I’ll include that, when we
get your stuff.” “Fine. Who
would you have watch over me?” “How are you with bugs?”
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