xx49.07.30 | 07:23 | Still Wednesday | [LUS]

actually a pretty nice day. There's still that smell everywhere but I'm kind of used to it, it's not nice but definitely ignorable. The sky's a blue-yellow sort of colour that's difficult to describe and kind of ugly, but at least the sun's up. The shadows are so crisp here! And there are actually people around, a couple of cars, it's not the ghost town that it was last night. Maybe people are scared of the gangs. There definitely aren't any police around—Daniel sent me a message about that, he's been plotting out a kind of reference guide for the city, which areas have a lot of gang activity, which areas can afford to pay for proper security, that kind of thing. To be honest it doesn't really mean a lot to me, but I'm sure he and C2 will be able to use it to some effect. Maybe. And it'll be a good thing to present at the party tonight. Party? Is that the word? Anyway. I'm looking forward to telling people about everything we've figured out, but at the same time I'm pretty nervous about standing up in front of a bunch of legendary supers and talking. What if they laugh at me? Or just ignore me? But ... no, it's not good to think that way. I'll just put it out of my mind for now and enjoy C2's company.

"It isn't safe after dark."

That was C2. I'm just going to keep quiet and listen, I think she's in one of her 'working something out' moods.

"They were all in their homes. Now that it's light, they come out ... and the gangs stay away?"

I think C2 is trying to figure out the rules of this city. I don't really have much clue myself.

"I think the reason there aren't any gangers around is because Mum and Dad beat them up so good."

"Perhaps. Yes, that seems likely."

I feel stupidly proud to have made a point that C2 approves of.

"Oh. I've read about these vendors."

There's a big ... thing in the wall here, in a recess, it's old and dirty and really weird-looking. I have no idea what it is.

"Powerstone City's social welfare system," C2 explains to me. "This area is poor and unclean, but nobody is starving. Credits are assigned that may be exchanged for food, medicine, and other consumable necessities. Additionally, these vendors accept raw materials in exchange for credits—you can see this wide tray. Perhaps this is the reason that there is no rubbish upon the ground."

I hadn't really noticed that until C2 pointed it out, but she's right. There's no rubbish anywhere.

"You can also see here, a place where a tree once grew," C2 says, indicating a square bit of ground that's just bare earth. "The vendors will accept any raw material. That includes wood."

"Maybe I should read more," I say, as we start walking again—I can see the 'village' up ahead, shops and cars and people. "Then again, as long as you're around..."

"I never mind explaining things to you," C2 says. "Please ask if you have any questions about anything."

"Don't worry, I will! I feel much smarter when I'm with you. Um. Well, you know what I mean." I glance at C2 as we walk. "And I wanted to say sorry about some stuff. I think I've been snapping at you lately."

"Snapping?"

"Being rude, I mean. Like last night ... I've felt really tense since we got here, I don't know why, but it's not fair to take it out on you."

"I ... don't feel that you have taken out anything on me. But I accept your apology. I wonder if your tension has something to do with your promotion. Copying multiple powers may affect your mental state."

"Do you think that's possible? I have been copying a lot lately, do you really think it might affect me that strongly?"

"I don't know. I'm just presenting the possibility."

"You might have a point, though ... that'd be really annoying if it's true, I already know that my powers get weaker the more I'm copying..."

"There is something else I have been thinking about recently, although I am unsure as to its validity."

"What is it?"

"I'm hesitant to share it, due—"

"Just tell me, don't worry, I'm not going to laugh at you or anything. I always want to hear your ideas!"

C2 half-smiles. "Very well," she says. "But please understand that I have no solid basis for this. It's little more than 'guesswork'."

"That's okay, without guesswork I'd never get anywhere."

"As long as you understand." C2 looks down as she continues: "Nobody knows what auras truly are. There are many conflicting theories and few facts. While it is true that everyone who is scientifically promoted has an aura, so do many of those who are unpromoted. I have read several studies which suggest that auras could change with a person's mood, the implication being that auras are connected to emotions. I'm only suggesting this as a theory, but it could be possible that when you copy an individual's promotion you are, in fact, copying that person's aura. It could also be possible that you are copying the auras of everyone you come into proximity with. To put it another way, it may be that your promotion is not 'power mimicry' but instead 'aura mimicry'. There is no definitive data on the percentage of individuals who possess an aura, but it is likely more than ten percent of the world's population. Last night there were many members of the Mercy Killers in proximity to you. I cannot say for certain, but it appeared that many of them were aggressive and angry."

"So if they had auras and I copied them, I'd end up aggressive and angry too?"

"I don't know."

"It makes sense, though..."

My Opal vibrates against my arm. I glance down at it, then at C2.

"We should get back to Motoplasm's base soon. There's not much in this 'village' anyway."

C2 seems confused.

"We're almost there. I thought you wanted—"

"I just wanted to take a walk. It's not like—"

I'm off my feet; I'm flying through the air; I'm against a wall, slammed hard against it. C2's next to me, her eyes are wide, she doesn't seem hurt. This is an alley. We were passing it. Now we're in it.

I didn't expect it to happen this fast.

"Just you two this time, huh? You think it's safe just because the sun's shining?"

Little Mercy. Alone.

"None of your 'friends' brave enough to come with you?" I ask. I'm about a metre off the ground, held against the wall by Mercy's force blast. I can't really move, except to speak.

"They ain't my friends," Little Mercy says. She's holding a pistol in her right hand, casually, pointed at the ground. Her left hand is raised, holding us against the wall. "They're my soldiers."

"Some soldiers," I say. "One little beating from a pair of REAL superheroes and they go running scared—"

"Shut your mouth," Mercy growls, and she points her gun at C2. "This your friend, that right? She got some kind of power too, walked away from that fall."

The sound of the gun's hammer clicking back isn't pleasant.

"Think she could survive a bullet in the head? Wanna find out?"

I don't dare look at C2. "Mercy, that's your name, right?"

"They call me Little Mercy, 'cause that's what I got."

"Oh, so maybe we have something in common."

Mercy grunts as I send a force blast against her hand. There's a loud retort twinned with a sharp snap, and she stares at the clumsy bulky force field in front of her. I take advantage of the distraction to send another blast against her hand, this time I manage to force the gun from her grip. C2 and I drop as she stares after it. I'm on my feet in an instant—

"Uh-uh," Mercy says, and she pushes both hands towards me—but I'm sweeping my hands towards her, I still feel the impact of her blast but it's not enough to push me back. I've got ten minutes of Mum's super-agility left; Mercy doesn't even see me before I've got her by the neck, then she chokes out a pained breath as I put her up against the alley wall, her feet off the ground. Her hand goes out towards her fallen gun, but thanks to Dad's power I only need one hand to hold her up. My force blast knocks the gun away, and it clatters against the wall.

"Try that again and I'll stop your blood from flowing. I don't think I could keep it up for more than a few seconds, but I bet those few seconds would be some of the worst of your life. Time to talk, Little Mercy. Time to tell me everything I want to know."

There's a wet impact against my face. She SPAT at me! She actually SPAT at ME!

"Ugh, you—fine. Fine!" I wipe Little Mercy's spittle off my face as I concentrate on her right hand. "Getting pins and needles? Fingers going numb? How about if I speed up your blood, how does THAT feel?"

"Charlotte..."

I lean in closer to Little Mercy.

"You just threatened to shoot my friend in the head," I say. "So you'd better start talking. Why did you want those drugs?"

Mercy stares at me, then screws up her face. "Bitch, you really ARE stupid."

"Tell me—"

"To MOVE! For CASH!"

"No, those drugs are special. They've got an aura, what does that mean?"

"'Aura'? What the hell kind of crap are you talking?"

"An aura, like ... you don't know what an aura is?"

"What the hell kind of crazy—drugs is drugs, bitch!"

I'm starting to think that Little Mercy isn't quite the supervillain mastermind I suspected her of being.

"Your promotion," C2 says. I glance at her; she's holding Little Mercy's gun. "When did it manifest?"

"The hell—"

"When did you get your power?" I demand. I don't really see how this is relevant, but if C2 is asking then I want an answer.

"You gonna make a move? Gonna put one in my head? So then DO it, I ain't gonna—"

"You're going to answer our questions," I say. Mercy grits her teeth as I slow the blood in her arm. "When did you get your power?"

"Couple months back, I dunno."

"After some kind of trauma?" I ask. "A near-death experience? A moment of high emotion or extreme stress?"

"Hell yes I been stressed, I'm feeling some right this instant!"

"Were you being bullied or harassed?" C2 asks.

"Hell, same as everyone. Getting picked up by the damn CQ every damn day, couldn't get no rest day OR night."

"What were you being 'picked up' for?" C2 asks.

"No damn thing. Yeah, give me that look, before I could do what I do you think I was anyplace NEAR any damn gang? I ain't stupid."

"But the police picked you up anyway?" I ask. "They arrested you?"

"Wasn't the police, was CQ like I said—and nah, they couldn't arrest me because I didn't do no damn thing. Just kept pressing on me, 'what you know 'bout this guy?', 'where little big man at?', that kind of nonsense. For damn hours!"

"The stress may have triggered your promotion," C2 says. "That would be consistent with reports I have read. Charlotte, I have no more questions. For now."

I take a deep breath.

"Hey, you—what—"

Little Mercy struggles, then goes limp.

I take another deep breath.

"I didn't enjoy that at all," I say, as I gather Little Mercy into my arms. "Motoplasm's power is kind of creepy. Could you get my Opal? I'm recording but I want to stop, I think using LUS so much is giving me a headache—"