Episode 75.5

... from the Files of Hydrogen Guy

Epilogue

Jim Evans, world-renowned theoretical physicist and reluctant tourist, buckled himself in and settled down for his flight. Next to him was David Marcolin, sitting with his hands folded in his lap and his head tilted back on the seat, eyes closed. The plane was still filling up prior to take-off.

Evans
Right. Let's get this baby in the air and start doling out the beverages.

Marcolin answered without opening his eyes.

Marcolin
There won't be any tea, the flight's too short. We're only going to Seattle.

Evans looked shocked.

Evans
No tea?! But it's morning! There has to be tea!

Marcolin
Take it up with the flight attendant, Arthur... You know, it amazes me. In normal life you're a complete tea snob, but put you on a plane and you start salivating for whatever dishwater they decide to heat up to sixty degrees Celsius...

Evans
Discount flyers can't be choosers, and the caffeine helps dull the pain of bad in-flight movies... Jeez, Dave, are you talking in your sleep, or what?

Marcolin reluctantly peeled one eye open.

Marcolin
No... sorry, I don't know why I'm so tired... Ever since I got on the plane, all I've wanted is a nap...

Evans
I'll keep the in-flight chatter to a minimum, then, I promise... Dave! Window!

They both snapped their heads to the left and pretended to be absorbed by something outside. The woman in the window seat next to them looked up from the in-flight magazine in surprise, and started peering out the window, too.

Evans
Okay, all clear.

David looked at him in bleary annoyance.

Marcolin
What was that all about?

Evans lowered his voice to an urgent whisper.

Evans
That was Robyn Cheung that just went by!

Marcolin
Oh, great. And here I thought this was a "non-evil" flight.

Evans
I hope we don't have the same connecting flight. We probably do, though. Curses... Hang on, she's coming back.

They plunged into their in-flight magazines as she walked by on the way back to first class. She identified them as members of the Olympic synchronised dork team and then promptly forgot them.

Evans
Maybe we should get transferred up to first class so we can keep an eye on her...

Marcolin dropped the magazine and resumed his former relaxed position.

Marcolin
Good luck. If you manage it, just have them carry me up...

Evans muttered something, but he didn't catch it. By the time the plane began to taxi onto the runway, David Marcolin was fast asleep.

Deuterium Boy had the sensation of waking from a deep sleep. He found himself, not sitting in the cramped centre seat of a 737 in civilian clothes, but rather seated at his usual table in the tikki lounge of Club Kodor. He was dressed in his full Deuterium Boy costume. He looked around in surprise - the ill-lit booths with their shapeless and terrible occupants, the unearthly beat of the dance club downstairs, the bar with the cone-faced, tentacled bartender, the jukebox packed with Bauhaus and Depeche Mode - it was all as it always was. He looked around eagerly for the one person missing, and saw her standing with her back to him, waiting on a group of Egyptian priests a few tables away.

Deuterium Boy
Avalia!

The white-robed, raven-tressed figure turned towards him. Deuterium Boy nearly fell out of his chair.

Deuterium Boy
N?!!

N
Be with you in a minute, sweet-cheeks, just let me place these drink orders.

He made a quick detour to the bar - the bartender didn't seem to notice the substitution - and then in a moment he was standing at Deuterium Boy's side, smiling coquettishly.

N
Do I get a kiss?

Deuterium Boy
N! Get rid of that -- outfit, now!

N
You don't think it's me?

Deuterium Boy
I mean it!

N
By the bones of Osiris, you're such a stiff. JB is a hundred times nicer to me than you are.

He waved his hand and was enveloped in a flash of light. Immediately he was dressed in khakis, sandals and a loud floral shirt, his hair back to its normal close-cropped length. He was sitting across from Deuterium Boy, sipping on a bright green drink sprouting a forest of umbrellas and decorative swizzle sticks.

N
I go to all this trouble to restore your powers and reunite you with the "woman" you love, and you don't even let me have any fun. Drink?

Deuterium Boy
Where is she?

N gestured indistinctly.

N
Around. Let's say she's on break. How about that drink?

A concoction similar to his own appeared in Deuterium Boy's hand. Deuterium Boy banged it down on the table and glared at N.

N
Fine, but let me tell you right now, this is the last time I do anything for you without being asked.

Deuterium Boy
I would appreciate that... Wait, did you say you'd restored my powers? My deuterium powers?

N
Mm-hm. [slurp] You're a big ol' gas bag once again. And JB's once again hearing voices other than his own whiny little conscious. I hope you were nice to the Justice Furlong during their visit? Parted on good terms, mutual expressions of bonhomie and all that?

Deuterium Boy
I suppose. They didn't say much last night, I think Cheung's attack kind of spooked them.

N
Hmm, yes. I have to admit, that little hissy fit of hers took even me by surprise. I would've called in some more help for you if I'd known she was carrying a passenger.

Deuterium Boy looked puzzled. He absent-mindedly took a sip of the green cocktail, then immediately wished he hadn't.

Deuterium Boy
All right, start at the top of that and work your way down.

N heaved a long-suffering sigh.

N
I swear, sometimes I just want to chuck it all and start over with another planet... If you remember, I only have powers within this Universe, and whatever little pockets the Mages create. Anything that may have happened to Ms. Cheung on the Plane of Aybabtu would have slipped by me altogether. But now, it's quite obvious that the reason she escaped the place unscathed while you, James and Hans-Raoul were put through the wringer was that she agreed to bring something back with her... Twenty-twenty hindsight, of course...

Deuterium Boy
Hmm. Does Hans-Raoul know about this "passenger"?

N
Doubtful. I don't think it's manifested itself before... in fact, I've been watching her since she pegged all the thaumaturgical meters, and it's clear she doesn't remember any of it herself.

Deuterium Boy
Great... that's all we needed.

N
For once, I agree completely... [slurp] Nonetheless, I have to complement you, David. You and your overbearing partner acquitted yourselves very well, despite getting off to a typically slow start. Mark is in good hands with Mr. Reid, and things have arranged themselves so that Hans-Raoul will be staying out of the picture for a while. We'll see, perhaps we can use Ms. Cheung's difficulties to keep him busy until the boy is ready to join you.

Deuterium Boy glared at him.

Deuterium Boy
Yeah, I bet you're thrilled with all this, aren't you? A whole bunch of new toys to play with - Chris, JB, Bob Malevolent, and most of all, Mark. Well, I'm not pleased with it. I don't like how you've set up this little Boise chess game, N, HG and Chris against Bob and Hans-Raoul. And Mark stuck in the middle as the most vulnerable pawn.

N laughed, slapping his knee as if Deuterium Boy had told him the one about the neutron who walked into a bar.

N
Oh, David! I didn't think you had such eloquence in you! Heh heh... as for the "chess game" you allude to, my dear Deuterium Boy, you don't know the half of it. Things will be getting very interesting in Boise over the next year or so, and not all of the pieces will see the end of the game...

He noisily slurped up the last of his drink.

N
Well, I'll take my leave of you. Avalia will have figured out by now that the cy-duck is far more frightened of her than she is of it, and they may start making some progress...

He got to his feet and waved his hand again. The real Avalia appeared in Deuterium Boy's lap, a few stray pieces of mauve down stuck to her hair.

Avalia
What... Dave?! What happened? I was --

She caught sight of N.

Avalia
You! I should have known! How many times do I have to have you thrown out of here, anyway?!

He bowed.

N
My deepest apologies. But it was essential that I have David's undivided attention. Now if you two love-birds will excuse me, I see some old friends over there in one of the booths...

Deuterium Boy
Hang on, N. You skipped over one of my questions.

N
Oh?

Deuterium Boy
What did you mean, "you would've called in some more help for us"?

N smiled enigmatically - or rather, even more enigmatically than usual.

N
My dear Mr. Marcolin... a moment ago you compared the war we're engaged in to a game of chess. But it's not quite like chess... because in this game, Boise isn't the only board, and not all of the pieces have been revealed. Aloha!

A back alley, late at night, in the city of Osaka, Japan. Dark deeds threaten --

Woman
<Please, I don't have very much money. Take what you want, just don't hurt me!>

Punk #1
<We don't care about your money.>

Punk #2
<As for hurting you, well that depends on you, now, doesn't it?>

The woman recoils against a wall in horror. Her two assailants advance menacingly.

One of them pauses and sniffs the air. He wrinkles his nose.

Punk #1
<Man, there's something nasty in this alley. It smells like a barnyard or something...>

Punk #2
<What, you wanna take her somewhere else? Here's good enough, it won't take achk!! >

He starts gasping for breath, choking.

Punk #1
<Zak, you okay? Zak? WHAT'D YOU DO?!>

Woman
<Nothing, I swear!>

As his friend staggers back, turning faintly blue, the other grabs the woman and raises his hand to strike her. Suddenly --

A fist appears out of nowhere and smashes into his face. He falls flat on his back, blood streaming from his nose.

The other, suddenly able to breath once again, looks up to see a caped, shadowy figure in front of their intended victim.

Punk #2
<Eh?>

Shadow
<Stay where you are if you do not want to get hurt.>

The voice was female, and sounded like it meant business.

Ignoring the warning, the second punk pulled a knife from his belt and launched himself forward. The figure dodged, pushing the woman out of the way with her. The attacker whirled around, and caught only a flash of dark green as the fist struck him on the jaw. As he staggered back, his broken-nosed friend tried to grab and hold their assailant. She slipped out of his grasp.

They tried to box her in, but she moved too quickly. The frightened young woman watching saw little, except for her attackers going down repeatedly and the occasional flash of green.

The one called Zak, retrieving his knife, slashed wildly at the hero. She parried with a set of blades sprouting from her gauntlet, blades which snapped the knife in two like cheap plastic. He stared at it in amazement, suddenly finding his muscles unwilling to respond. She struck him hard in the forehead with the palm of her hand, and he toppled over, unconscious.

The other lunged at her, but suddenly found the ground beneath his feet as slick as oil. He slipped and landed face first on the ground. The hero grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and hauled him up. He only got a blurry glimpse of a yellow symbol on green, and a mouth smirking from behind a mask, before her palm collided with his forehead. He flipped over almost 180 degrees and landed on his back.

The young woman looked on in fear and confusion. The shadowy figure turned to her.

Woman
<Thank you -- >

Shadow
<Get out of here. Hurry.>

Woman
<Who -->

But she was gone, apparently vanished into thin air.

The young woman was curious, and couldn't help a quick peek at her unconscious assailants. She was puzzled by what she saw - on each of their foreheads, black as if charred into their flesh, was the same symbol she had seen on her rescuer's chest: a small circle inside a slightly larger regular hexagon .

She wondered what it meant.

[fade to black; roll credits]