xx49.07.29 | 18:56 | Still Tuesday | [LUS]

Trying a hybrid entry. Typing and thinking. Typing. And thinking. Okay, this works.

Starting to feel like a really long day. It's not even seven o'clock but it feels like waaaaaay later. Well I guess actually for me it's eleven because of the time difference between Seclusion and NoZo, we're on Free Paradise time up there which is four hours ahead of NoZo. Or twenty hours behind actually because of weird dateline stuff.

I was pretty worked up before—with good reason, I think!—but I'm sitting here with The Force helping him with force fields and actually it's pretty calming. I can see why he's so cool and collected all the time. I'm even getting used to the impact shocks, they're not exactly unpleasant, I'm not sure what I can compare them to ... maybe like how when you're doing combat training and you're hitting Virtual Bad Guys and you feel every punch and every kick and it doesn't quite hurt but it doesn't quite NOT hurt either ... something like that, except completely different. This is really bringing all of my theoretical knowledge about the ability into focus too, there's nothing like a practical lesson for proper understanding. Of course I knew that the 'force fields' aren't actually proper force fields at all, at least not in the artificial sense, but I never quite got the difference until now. They're an extension of my aura, a physical manifestation of my own unique energy. Right now I've got one over the front door and another one over a window. Because I'm still new at using The Force's power he's got me doing the big, bulky stuff, while he handles all the finesse. That's fine with me, even maintaining just these two is pretty tough, although I think I've got the hang of it now. I had to use the monitors to position them at first, but now I can just maintain them without too much conscious effort—every so often they start to slip and I have to concentrate to get them back into the proper shape again, but even that's getting easier. It's only the form that wavers, not the field itself, if that makes any sense. Part of the field wants to shrink, part of it wants to grow...

"How do you make your fields so nice and smooth?" I ask. "Mine are so spiky and bulgy and weird, but yours always look perfect."

The Force smiles, that calm little smile of his.

"Practice."

Practice. He's certainly had enough of that! I really like The Force, have I mentioned? And as far as powers go, I'd have to rank his as pretty fun and useful. If I could choose my power then aura field manipulation (to use the proper term) would definitely be in consideration.

"Um, is it okay if I go check on how things are going up above?" I ask. "I think I can keep my fields going—it's weird how you know what they're doing even when you can't see them, right?"

The Force shrugs.

"Okay, well, um, keep up the good work—do you need anything? Something to eat, or more tea? No? Okay, just, y'know, call out if you want anything."

Climbing a ladder while maintaining two force fields is an interesting challenge. Had a few wobbles on the way up. I take a moment to collect myself and focus, then hold my hands out at my sides, palms down, as I walk slowly towards the clinic. It's so weird knowing that those fields are still there, even though I can't see them I know exactly where they are, I can even feel the door and the window, not as touch-sensation exactly, definitely not visually ... lines and corners. That's what I feel. Lines and corners.

"Whassup, Charlie? There a reason you're walking like a penguin?"

"I'm concentrating," I say, as Shade comes over to me. "I've got several fields up right now, maintaining them requires concentration."

"And walking like that helps?"

"A little."

"Okay, well, you do you. Heading in to see Moto and Big C? I'll come with."

C2's sitting on a bench seat in the clinic, looking down at her Opal with a blank expression. Motoplasm's in one of the elevated chairs, Chass is at a machine—

"You started without me!" I say, then have to stop to adjust my fields.

"Turns out there was no need to worry," Motoplasm says. "Nothing much happening here."

"Mr Johnston's promotion is difficult to quantify," C2 says, lowering her Opal and looking at me. "It makes the results of this experiment difficult to measure."

"You should've waited for me," I say. "What if something happened?"

"Then we would have called you," Motoplasm says. "Calm yourself, child, there's no drama here."

I guess nothing bad happened, but I'm still annoyed.

"What powers are you copying now?" Chass asks. I'm kind of surprised that he's addressing me directly. "Fire, water, anything like that?"

"No, just ... just everyone here." I look down at my Opal. "And Little Mercy's."

"Kinetic blasts might work," Chass says. "Get on the other bed."

"Now hold on a second here," Motoplasm says. "We're not involving her in this—"

"But I want to help—"

"No, it's too risky."

"It's my choice! You ... you can't tell me what I'm allowed to do!"

"I'm not your father?" Motoplasm asks, I don't know how he knew I almost said that. "But I'd have to answer to him and your mother if anything happened to you. No, Charlotte. You're not doing this."

"I've been in almost constant danger since I arrived here, this doesn't even compare!"

"There's a difference."

"What does THAT mean?"

"It means there's no way—"

Motoplasm looks sharply over—I don't know what he's looking at. Then I see a huffer drop to the bench, and Shade flickers into visibility.

"Woo!" he says, then he laughs weirdly. "Woo, that's not Hak, no waaaaaay!"

"Why'd you let him do that?" Motoplasm demands of Chass, who shrugs.

"Didn't see him."

"Like hell you didn't—"

"Hey, you should be thaaaaanking me." Shade's voice has gone weird. "Arguing all about this stuff, you wanted to see what it does, here I am! And oh man, this stuff is like ... wow, my skin ... my skin is amazing—touch me, someone touch me, Ceet, Charlie, TOUCH me, feel how baby-soft my skin is, oh man."

"C2!"

C2 lowers her hand.

"Relatively benign reaction," Chass says. "Use your power."

"No," Motoplasm says, "this ain't—"

"Naw it's cool Moto man, here I go, watch me fade boooooi—huh?"

Shade barely flickered. Now nothing's happening and he looks confused and happy.

"Interesting."

"Hell damn YES C-Dog, I am one hot-damn fascinating guy. Damn, hope this ain't permanent!"

Shade starts laughing.

"It appears that the drug has a negative affect on powers," C2 says.

"Without violet," Motoplasm mutters. "How the hell does that work?"

"Huh?" I say. "Why would anyone want a drug that WEAKENS powers?"

Chass smirks. "I can think of a few reasons."

"Yes, of course YOU'D love the idea—"

"Come on now." Motoplasm is a little unsteady on his feet, but he's got Shade and is guiding him to the other bed. He doesn't look pleased. "Let's get that junk flushed—"

"Naw man, I'm cool, just let me be, let me be. Maybe I'll sit here and just, ooooh, nice bed. NICE bed. Hey Ceet, come hop up with me, feel how nice this bed is!"

I'm really glad I don't have to stop C2 this time, although she's kind of smiling.

"Oh!"

"What is it?" C2 asks me. I hold up a hand, my eyes closed, frowning in concentration—my force fields have slipped, now they're more like flattened balls sitting in front of the window and door than protective coverings. Fortunately nothing's hitting them. Actually, there haven't been any impacts since I came up from the control room. I can't hear any gunshots outside, either, although the shouting's just as loud as ever. I finish adjusting my fields, then open my eyes to see Motoplasm looking up from injecting something into Shade's arm.

"You got some fields going?" he asks. I nod. "Good, keep that up."

"Shouldn't we do something about the gangers out there? Maybe, um, fight them or something?"

"I don't go looking to fight. They already stopped shooting, pretty soon they'll get bored and head on home."

"But won't they just come back again?"

"Maybe. And maybe we'll have to deal to this sooner rather than later. But right here and now, I ain't in the mood for a brawl."

"Will Mr Donovan be okay?" C2 asks. "Maintaining so many fields at once must be tiring."

"I guarantee you he'll last longer than those toy gangsters out there," Motoplasm says. "Especially with Charlotte here taking up the slack. Truth is he enjoys this kind of thing, never happier than when he's down in the control room, making his little adjustments, smiling his little smile."

"So you're happy to just be trapped in here," I say. "Until THEY decide to go away."

"Wouldn't say we're trapped. You got in, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we ain't trapped." Shade sounds more normal now. "Can come and go as we please."

Chass seems to take that as a cue; he nods to Motoplasm as he walks out. He leaves the bag of drugs, but I'm pretty sure he took some of the huffers.

"C-Dog, you just leaving?"

"He got things he gotta take care of," Motoplasm says. "Now sit back—"

"Naw, I'm cool, that stuff you gave me killed my buzz dead." Shade hops down off the bed, then makes an odd face. "Hey, hear that?"

I listen. I don't hear anything except the shouting from outside. C2 seems to notice something, though.

"It's not possible for Chass to have left so quickly," she says.

"Huh?" I say, then I realise—the shouts outside are different, before they were taunts and boasts, now they're calls of alarm and warning. Gunshots too, lots of them, and then a heavy crash—

"What in the hell is going on out there?" Motoplasm mutters.

"Police?" I ask.

"There ain't no police in this part of town, child, none that matter leastways—we got a new guest at this little party."

C2 and I follow Motoplasm as he heads out of the clinic. Shade's already gone, I didn't even notice him leaving.

"Do you have other local allies?" I ask. Motoplasm shakes his head.

"None that'd cause that kind of commotion."

He heads down into the control room and I follow, C2 behind me. My Opal beeps; a message! From Daniel!

"C2, it's from Daniel! He must be okay!"

"Mal, you see what's going on out there?"

I don't hear The Force's reply. I'm reading Daniel's message, and my heart is sinking.

"Charlotte? What is it?"

I look up at the monitors. It seems like the fight is already over. I can see a lot of stunned and unconscious gangers, and standing at the entrance, in front of my raw force field, are two very familiar people. I clear my throat:

"It's my parents."