July 18, 2010 - Happy Harbor, RI
Mt. Justice
11:16:23
“Mars has been getting TV signals from Earth for decades? You’re kidding me.” Connor shook his head with disbelief.
“I’m not! It’s just the best thing ever. We don’t have anything like Earth pop culture on Mars, so ever since Aunt J’oann came here and then made contact, we started building compatible receiving stations. Everything Earth broadcasts out can eventually be picked up by our receivers, and then gets rebroadcasted back to Mars.” M’gann explained with the infectious enthusiasm of someone who had been asked about their hobby horse.
They were standing in the kitchen chatting as M’gann put the finishing touches on a tray of cookies going into the preheated oven. Connor knew nothing about cooking, other than he liked the product of it, but the gleaming cooktop looked like it belonged in a high restaurant kitchen. As she finished laying out and flattering the little balls of dough, M’gann turned away to start picking up the ingredients that spread like the tide across the kitchen island. With one hand she waved at the tray and it lifted off the island and flew gently towards the oven, the door of which opened obediently to receive its charge, and shut again.
He watched this all in amazement as M’gann began putting away flour, eggs, milk, sugar and other ingredients, humming a catchy jingle to herself. The green skinned and red haired girl from Mars was wearing a peppy maroon outfit, a skirt and matching short sleeved jacket, over a white spaghetti strap top, with black flats and white knee socks. It seemed to be the default mode of her shapeshifting organic clothing, though it seemed naggingly out of place to him.
Not that she doesn’t look good in it. She looks great in anything, literally. There’s something about that outfit, though…
Maybe it was the headband.
Her powers were a subject of endless fascination for him. It seemed like there was little the Martian girl couldn’t do; she read minds (but asked permission first… now), had telekinesis, shapeshifting, not to mention her much greater than human strength and durability. She certainly wasn’t as strong as him, as he had been delighted to show off to her during one of their workout sessions, much to her amusement. But when she utilized her shapeshifting to reinforce her body with a density shift, becoming stronger, tougher and heavier, she quickly approached his limits. According to the super science lifting machines, which he was no longer afraid to use after having read the manuals, he could lift over 50 tons.
But then she could reverse the same ability, phasing into insubstantiality and floating through walls like a ghost. Combine that with using her shapeshifting to camouflage herself, rendering her close to invisible, and her powers started to disquiet even him. But she also struggled with the wildly different abilities, finding insubstantiality the hardest of all to maintain.
People forget Martian Mahunter is as strong as Superman, AND can do all that other stuff on top of it. Its nice that he’s not alone in this universe. Mars is a whole world, and they like our TV. Which is good, because if they wanted to have a War of the Worlds, I’m not sure we’d win.
“Connor? Is something wrong?”
He looked up at her and realized he’d been staring.
“No, just thinking about how amazing you are.” He said, chuckling.
M’gann’s cheeks turned a color he had never seen before, an alien mix of red and green and she bit her lip. She didn’t immediately reply.
Did I say something wrong? He worried.
Then came the Computer’s muffled intonation from the main Hall, and the distinctive sound of the Zeta-Tubes spooling up and opening their space bridge. Connor immediately perked up and forgot his confusion.
“Hey, the others are back!” He said excitedly and dashed off for the stairs. M’gann followed after a moment.
By the time the two permanent residents had arrived, the returning team members were already shuffling out of the Zeta-Tube and into the Hall, plopping themselves down at what Connor had dubbed the Big Table, in the section of the Hall he dubbed the War Room.
Nobody understood what he was talking about, and he died inside that this universe had been denied Kubrick.
The Big Table was a 22 foot diameter, green felt covered edifice, like a massive poker table. The middle of the table was a slightly raised brushed steel circle with a holographic image emitter embedded in it. Each team member had a swivel chair with their emblem embossed in the headrest, above their heads. There was room for thirty chairs, and each had an individual light hanging over them in a suspended ring lighting fixture. This had been his big suggestion for the Cave, and while no one quite understood his enthusiasm for the thing, they had humored him.
Since there were only five of them currently, and nobody else wanted to shout across the Big Table, their chairs were all clustered together. Aqualass, Robin and Kid Quick had all slumped into theirs with a dejected look. Kid was absently spinning in hers, while Robin was turned away from the table with her elbows on her knees.
Ah.
“I take it that your chat with Trojan didn’t go well.” Connor began.
“No, it did not.” Aqualass said as she sat back in her chair and laid a hand on the table.
“Donnie was not interested at all. If anything, he was more mad that we asked, again.” Robin’s frustration was obvious by the way she clenched her fists.
“‘I’m done with Wonder Woman and the Guild telling me what to do!’” Walli aped Trojan’s accent and melodious voice as she waved her hands theatrically. “‘I don’t need a babysitter or a clubhouse hangout with the other kids! This ‘team’ is just an Justice Guild Apprenticeship to keep you busy, and in your place.’” She finished in an angry growl, completing her recitation.
Connor winced; that was certainly an interpretation of events. He and M’gann shared an awkward look; they’d talked about the argument they’d walked in on when Trojan stormed out. Neither had met him before, so didn’t have much chance of convincing him to stay. But the rest of the team were longtime friends and allies of Trojan and had been convinced that the rough exit could be patched over and sanded smooth. They’d gone back to DC to ‘help’ Trojan with a case, and hoped to use it as a springboard to convince him to join the team. Robin in particular had insisted that the offer would be a lot better coming from them than the Guild.
It doesn’t help that Trojan is similar-to-but-legally-distinct-from the versions of Donna Troy I’ve read. I don’t even know what the big blow up between him and Wonder Woman was about. It’s a lot more personal than the disdain for being a ‘Justice Guild Apprentice’.
Plus, he called me the ‘token guy’, and I do not appreciate that.
“You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. If he doesn’t want to get with the program, he can fly solo. Sounds like that’s what he wants.” Connor said dismissively.
That only elicited grunts from his new friends, and the three seemed lost in thought. He decided a change in topic was required.
“It’s good you got back when you did. Canary is supposed to be back soon with the last of her stuff to move into her quarters upstairs. I told her we’d all help move her in.” He said with a winning smile; nothing bonded people together like helping each other move.
His attempt at moving the topic on from Trojan’s dismissal of the team only elicited another round of noncommittal grunts, and he put his hands on his hips in consternation.
“Aw, come on, guys! Where’s the team spirit? Look, Trojan wants no part of this but Canary does, and she’s going through a rough patch too. So let’s focus on the people who actually want to be here, rather than the ones who don’t.” Connor forced a smile, hoping to infect his teammates with it. He turned to M’gann for support, who was literally hovering behind him, looking sheepish. When he turned to her, she hurriedly also plastered a smile on her face and beamed at the team encouragingly.
Kaldura sighed, and nodded.
“Connor is correct. Donald does not wish to participate in this team, and we have done our best to convince him otherwise, and failed. Dwelling on his refusal is not constructive. We must simply accept his decision and focus on what we can control about this team.” She said serenely, a veritable ray of sunshine amongst the other two.
Kid sighed, kicking her feet out and putting her hands behind her head.
“I guess. It’s just… it was the four of us running together for a long time whenever the Guild called everybody in. We did that for a couple of years, and Don was the most experienced one. We followed his lead.” She said, sadly.
“Well, he’s dropped the ball, and it’s up to us to pick it up again.” Robin said bitterly but with grit in her voice. “If he wants to be a… whatever he wants to be now, then fine, he can take his ball and go home.” She finished awkwardly.
“I think you’ve tortured that ‘ball’ metaphor enough, Robi.” Connor teased, which made Walli crack up and Robin rolled her eyes behind her domino mask.
The gloom that hung over half the team abated slightly as the Zeta-Tubes spun up once more, and Black Canary arrived in civilian clothes; blue jeans, white camisole shirt, and a black jean jacket. She was pushing a handcart stacked with neatly labeled moving boxes and waved when she saw them. Connor waved back and with M’gann, walked over to meet her.
As they approached, she saw the other three remain seated but they also waved. Turning to Connor and M’gann, she lowered her voice.
“It didn’t work, huh?”
Connor simply crossed his arms and shook his head, while M’gann looked at her feet and shrugged.
“I didn’t have much hope, but it’s good that they tried. Better that Don knows he still has friends and they reached out, even if he’s not ready to accept the help.” Canary said sagely. “Thanks again for helping, I appreciate it!”
She took the first box off the cart, and Connor quickly hoisted two of the largest up, one under each arm. M’gann waved her hand like a TV witch, and several of the boxes floated off the cart and into the air behind her, as they headed for the stairs which would lead up to Canary’s ‘den-mother’ apartment under the mountain’s peak. Connor had initially been jealous of her rarefied position in the Cave, until he saw that the apartment still had no windows, just more blank rock walls. Elevation didn’t matter when you were still underground.
As they approached the stairs, he called out to the sad sacks at the Big Table.
“You guys gonna help, or what?”
With an exaggerated sigh from Kid Quick, they rose and went to the cart to pick up boxes and trudge up the many stairs that curled around the outside of the main Hall and up to Canary’s apartment. The place was already full of boxes and furniture wrapped in plastic and padded blankets. Connor and M’gann had already helped Canary on several trips back to Star City, though they didn’t see any of it outside the old train station that the Guild concealed the Zeta-Tubes in. Canary’s furniture had been child’s play to move for he and M’gann. The Zeta-Tubes were an incredible wonder that was already becoming mundane to him, but they weren’t very good for moving house. He literally had to carry each piece of furniture from the train station, through the Tube, and exit back in the Cave, one armload at a time. It had really worn the glitz and glamor off of instant teleportation across the country.
By the time boxes and bric a brac had been emptied from the last cart and deposited at Canary’s direction around the circular apartment, she kicked them out so she could start unpacking after thanking each of them for their help. The feeling of accomplishment of having finished a task for a friend seemed to have buoyed the spirits of the three, and the vibe was much more upbeat and talkative as they headed back downstairs. As they did, Connor caught a scent, and sniffed again to confirm it.
“Do you guys smell something burning?”
********
“My cookies! Noooooo…” M’gann cried miserably as they rushed down into the kitchen.
With another wave, the oven opened and the sizzling cookie tray floated out, along with a cloud of smoke. M’gann made worried noises as she fanned her hand at the smoke, but before she could do anything about it, Walli zipped over to the extractor hood control and turned it on and conjured a minor tornado by spinning her arm, directing all the smoke up into the hood.
Connor couldn’t help but laugh at the utterly domestic tasks his friends used their amazing powers for.
After the smoke was cleared and M’gann began peeling the charred carbon remains of her cookies off the cookie tray with a spatula and onto a plate, it was clear there was no saving them. They clinked onto the plate like charcoal briquettes and only smelled of burning.
“Oh, shoot.” M’gann said sadly at the cremated remains of her baking attempt.
“It’s not your fault. We left Gizmo to watch them. What happened, buddy?” Connor asked as he turned to the kitchen island, where the little G-Gnome squatted like a gargoyle on the edge. He was staring at the oven, and only when Connor addressed him directly did he turn to regard his fellow genomorph. In lieu of answering, his horns glowed red and he transmitted the memory from his own point of view, of watching the cookies bake, turn golden brown, then ashen black as smoke filled the oven, and then their return.
Connor facepalmed.
“Yes, thank you, very helpful, buddy. You sure did watch it. You watched them burn. You’re supposed to turn the oven off when they’re done baking. Remember the clock? We talked about the clock yesterday?” Connor pointed at the digital clock over the oven.
Gizmo merely stared at him blankly, and then held out his tiny hand and made a grasping motion.
Connor sighed and turned back to the plate of carbonized cookies, only to find it in Walli’s arms as she crunched her way through another blackened baked good. The plate was already half empty, and as he reached for one she pulled it out of his reach, until he snaked his arm around her other shoulder and snatched one.
“Hey!” She said around a mouthful of black crumbs, and everyone stared at her.
“What? I gotta get my calories somehow. Waste not, want not.” She sniffed dismissively and shoveled another briquette into her mouth.
“Well, at least somebody likes them…” M’gann said sadly.
“I’m sure they were fine until somebody let them burn. Honestly, I don’t think you should get one, buddy, but you’re the most food motivated genetic experiment I’ve ever met, so here ya go.” Connor said as he handed Gizmo the burned cookie. The thing was the size of a dinner plate in his tiny hands, and he immediately took a large, crunching bite from the top with his tiny, blunt but strong teeth.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m ever not gonna be weirded out by him. It doesn’t help that I can’t figure out if you treat him like a pet or a baby.” Robin said, shaking her head as she looked at GIzmo.
“He’s not a pet, he’s a person. But they didn’t give him any stimulation or education at the Project, so he has a lot of catching up to do.” Connor said, waving off any concerns. The others didn’t get his absolute trust in the little genomorph, but M’gann had assured them Gizmo wasn’t influencing Connor, nor was he under any other compulsions.
Trying to teach Gizmo had proven… challenging. The G-Gnome had a disturbing habit of just staring at you like not only did he not understand, he didn’t even comprehend you were trying to teach him something. Until he suddenly turned around, hours or days later, and demonstrated the lesson back to you. But only if he thought he would get more food out of you if he did it.
“You know, at first I was delighted to see how food motivated he was. But then he immediately started sandbagging every lesson to extract as many snacks as possible. Feels bad when the tiny psychic child is making you jump through hoops to give him treats.” Connor said tiredly.
“It would appear that we should underestimate him at our peril. He understands much, but gives away little. A wise course.” Kaldura said as she approached Gizmo and stood staring down at him with her arms crossed. Gizmo met her gaze with absolute placidity, and the two inscrutable beings seemingly had a staring contest.
“Well, the cookies are a bust, but I do have something else to show you gals!” M’gann said as she washed the cookie tray and put it away.
The three looked to Connor, who shrugged in confusion.