Somewhere in the South Pacific

The island was exactly what Anya needed. It was remote, totally deserted, and incredibly hard to get to for anybody without superpowers or advanced technology. It had started as just an idea between her and Immonen: a relaxing, intimate stay somewhere secluded to let everything die down now that both of their identities were public knowledge. Sure, the overnight fame was a little fun, but it was also exhausting, even for somebody with superhuman regeneration and an internal supernova that could have, theoretically, kept Anya going for years without sleep if she paced herself.

But really, it wasn’t sleep she needed. She needed some god damn peace and quiet. Especially after she had seen her absolutely wretched mother claiming years of verbal and emotional abuse was just “tough love.”

She had read that in the paper and the periodical had ignited in her hands in a flash of heat and light. That was when Immonen had suggested the getaway. Not just to a ritzy hotel in the city, but away, away. They had earned it, after all. There were no major emergencies for once.

Pan had overheard, and cheerily agreed with Immonen. Neither of them had had the heart to turn the little pangolin down. But then Pan had invited Samaira, Tori, and Brody, and Brody had told Bernard who was with Amahle at the time, who had both then asked if Galtero would like to join them…

And by the end of it, two had become over two dozen. Anya didn’t even know all of them.

It wasn’t exactly bad, it just wasn’t as nice as it could have been. She and the good doctor had finally been able to have some time alone in-between press conferences and government debriefings and status reports. It hadn’t been ideal, but there hadn’t, for the first time since they’d met, been the looming threat of death.

Anya looked over at Immonen beside her. He lay on soft towel on the pale yellow sand next to her, reading a paperback. He wore only a pair of swimming trunks, and his body still shone just a bit from the swim he’d taken a few minutes before. Anya let out a contented sigh.

Garreth Immonen had single-handedly made, or purchased from the menu’s impressive store, the cures for every disease and ailment that troubled mankind. Cancer was mostly a memory now, thanks to the medicine Immonen had made freely available to the world (with Gary’s robots distributing it around the clock). Ditto for HIV, aids, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, and more. He and Earth’s other primary caregiver, Old Yai from Thailand, had also seen to the overwhelming majority of those injured during the invasion. Wat they couldn’t get to, Gary’s medical droids took care of until they were available. Because of them, the number of fatalities in the wake of the gnosiphages final push were miniscule.

It didn’t hurt that Immonen was very nice to look at as well. He was almost as tall as Anya’s towering 6’5” and clearly went to the gym on a regular basis. His face was handsome, lean, and angular, with a jutting nose that had been broken at some point long in the past and healed just slightly off. He had a fairly constant scruff of dark blond stubble along his jawline, and his lighter blond hair——with a few subtle streaks of gray——was kept long, usually pulled back into a ponytail.

He didn’t look like a doctor. He looked like a retired Olympic swimmer. He certainly didn’t look like somebody Anya would have ever thought of as her boyfriend. So maybe there were a few more people on the tiny tropical island than she had wanted. She could still have plenty of time with just her and Immonen.

That was when an explosion rocked the lazily rolling turquoise ocean a quarter-mile out to sea and sent a huge column of water hundreds of yards into the sky. Immonen sputtered and tossed his book aside as the shadow of the towering column fell over them, then began to pelt them both with heavy droplets. The gently lapping waves were yanked back out to sea, and gathered into a small tsunami.

“Oh what the fuck,” Anya sighed.

“Bombaaaaaaaa!” somebody screamed from overhead. The two syllables were full of more simplistic, pure joy than Anya had heard since…well, since the last time she’d heard them.

A short, stocky Russian woman in a tattered t-shirt and short shorts, all soaking wet, landed on the sand not far from Anya like a dismounting gymnast, arms spread in a wide “V” shape. She had a rounded face and short black hair that stuck out at all angles.

“Weak! Booo,” came a deep, raspy voice. Brody the shark sat in a lounge chair and held up one of his hands with four fingers. “Four outta ten. Shite. Not even a proper tsunami. Lookit that thing. I bet regular humies would surf it without a second glance.”

“Is bullshit! Look at tower! Is bigger than yours!” The Russian woman, Zoya insisted.

“I dunno, I think Brody’s was bigger,” a young man said in a South African accent. He had dark brown hair and a lazy, casual smile as he shrugged. He was also surrounded by a number of small, exotic animals that appeared to be made out of clouds, or fire, or leaves, or solid metal. Bernard pointed to the incoming tsunami as if it were nothing more than a ripple across a puddle. “I’ll give it a six?”

“Hey!” A fourth voice shouted from overhead.A short, lithe Indian woman in a shimmering white one-piece suit and a sky-blue sarong landed on the beach. Her dark blue hair glittered with countless points of light like stars across a midnight sky. A huge white bow appeared in her hands and she fired a glowing arrow of light from it at the incoming tsunami. The arrow pierced the wave and sent glimmering ripples of magical aetheric energy through it. The wave spread itself thin, slowly merging back with the ocean by gentle degrees instead of crashing onto the beach.

The Indian woman, Samaira, glowered at Zoya, Brody, and Bernard. “You’re supposed to do stuff like that on the other side of the island. This side is for people who want to relax.”

“Is relaxing!” Zoya insisted. Brody took out a huge pipe and lit a fist-sized clump of marijuana in the end of it, puffed twice, and nodded.

“I find this all to be quite soothing, really,” Bernard said.

“Well we fucking don’t!” Anya snapped and turned a chunk of sand next to Bernard into a sheet of glass. His small menagerie of elementals all squawked or hissed or growled in surprise.

“All right, all right, we’ll head back to the other side,” Bernard said.

“Don’t be a nuisance Bernie!” an athletic black woman in a bright yellow bikini shouted from down the beach. Amahle was currently sunning herself and sipping something from a huge, icy mug.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, dear!” Bernard replied with another shrug. He waved a hand and he, Brody, and Zoya began hiking toward the lush but short patch of jungle between them and the opposite side of the island a few miles away.

“Thanks, Sam,” Anya said as she sighed. Samaira made her bow vanish in a flash of light and rolled one dark brown shoulder.

“No problem. I know you could’ve handled it but…well, water’s kind of my thing,” she said. “And they were ruining my peace and quiet too.”

“Mine too,” Pan said as he popped up out from underneath the sandy beach. Samaira jumped back a foot in surprise, but then knelt to stroke Pan’s armored head when she saw who it was.

“You don’t want to hang out with Brody?” Anya asked, eyebrow raised. “You invited him after all.”

“He had me smoke some of that stuff and now I just kinda wanna dig a hole and be quiet,” Pan said. “And eat a lot of ants.”

“We agreed no smoking until you’re eighteen,” Anya said.

“But I’m an adult in pangolin years!” Pan protested.

“You’re not really a normal pangolin anymore, buddy.”

“Well, even more reason I should get to do fun stuff!”

“Was smoking weed fun?” Anya asked, unable to stop a smirk from creeping across her face.

“Yes! Well…maybe. I dunno. I just kinda wanna stare at clouds,” Pan said, then curled into a ball and rocked himself on his back as his studied the sky above. Immonen laughed and Anya shook her head.

“I’m going back to my puzzle book,” Samaira said and gave them all a wave as she walked along the shore. Anya watched her go, a little sad she didn’t want to hang out and chat, a little relieved it was just her and Immonen once more. Well, Pan too, but he seemed so blazed and oblivious that he likely wouldn’t notice another of Zoya’s Czar Bombas.

“Still a helluva lot better than shitty aliens,” Anya muttered and laid back on her towel.

“What was that?” Immonen asked.

“Just thinking that I’m glad the worst we have to worry about is a noisy beach.”

“True enough,” Immonen said and resumed his reading. Pan had started to snore gently nearby, having rocked himself to sleep. Anya knew the vacation couldn’t last forever, but she hoped it would go for just a little longer, and the universe would allow them to have their break.

Just a little longer, she thought.