Breakfast ended without any other surprises or problems. Eryk's obligations are done, so now Nobody can get to work. Vivienne and I finish our workout without me landing a hit on her again. I'm getting better, but not fast enough for my liking.

"So you wanna go there now?" She asked.

"Yes, I want to know what Tuesday's text meant and the specifics of how the mission went. I'm not being a control freak; I just don't want to be surprised later on but something unexpected," I said.

"I wasn't going to say anything. Certainly wouldn't accuse you of micromanaging," Vivienne said, stifling a laugh.

"You are quite the traitorous lieutenant, V."

"What can I say? I'm an ambitious woman."

"You could just say 'sir, yes, sir," I responded.

"I could, but where's the fun in that?"

"I'm going to get changed real quick, and then I'll meet you in the garage," I said, ignoring her.

"What're you going to wear? Isn't your hoodie soaked in beer?"

"I have some other white clothes I can use while the hoodie is air drying."

Vivienne parks the SUV, and we walk toward the back entrance. I see Rorschach's ink creations everywhere around the base, from a family of birds who've made their nest on our roof to small mice running along the ground and plenty of others. It's like a state-of-the-art security system without any need for cameras.

The base is coming along rapidly. More and more drones are moving around, and the walls are already finished. There are now multiple elevators here, and I can see the start of assembly lines being worked on. Kai is working on every part of the base simultaneously, from the offices above to the secret lab below. I had originally forbidden him from working on the lab till everything else was finished, but it was killing his productivity. A good leader keeps their people happy and motivated. A swirling mass of smoke moves toward us, impacting the ground. Isaiah materializes in front of us, smoke trailing off his body in thin strands.

"Really, Hotpants?"

"I can't help but make an entrance. Sorry if you can't relate," Isaiah remarked.

"Maybe it's time we have another bout. It's been too long since the last time I kicked your ass," Vivienne said.

"It was a draw, but I'm happy to have the opportunity to hand you a loss," Isaiah responded.

I was wondering whether Ciggs' personality piece was affecting him. It definitely looks like it is.

"You two can fight later. Isaiah, what made you meet me down here instead of at the meeting? I hope it wasn't just to instigate Vivienne into challenging you."

My helmet still only has my employees' saved voices, so every time I speak, it sounds like a board meeting where everyone talks over each other. Isaiah doesn't visibly react, but hopefully, he's a little embarrassed to have me call out his motivations so blatantly.

"Of course not. I came because during our mission, we encountered a Cowl that attacked us randomly. We took care of it and without having to reveal half of what I can do," Isaiah answered.

Fantastic. I can start replenishing my dwindling supply of emotions.

"What a pleasant surprise. Let's go visit them before the meeting."

The three of us walk through the partially constructed parts of the base until we reach a hastily set-up plywood room; the door is made of a wooden panel attached by a loose hinge. I follow Isaiah inside and see a giant rotating target with a man dressed like a magician chained to it by his ankles and wrists. There are knives embedded into the target in a perfect outline of his body. Tuesday has some excellent aim. Tuesday's emoji text clicks at that moment. There's a foldout table off to the side of the spinning target covered in all types of blades, a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, and a double-barrel shotgun.

"Nobody, let me introduce you to Harry BooHoodini. Careful folks, he's a bit of a whiny crybaby, so you may be in the splash zone depending on where your seats are," Tuesday said, making her voice sound like an old-timey radio host.

"Please let me go. I need medical attention. I can't feel my legs, and I'm going to be sick," the magician said.

Tuesday springs over to her captive, who's now hanging upside down, and she performs a split to meet him eye to eye. She shoves her hand into his face, holding his lips together.

"Shhhh. It's my turn to talk now, and you're kinda ruining my flow."

I ignore her theatrics and walk right up to the bound man and place my hand against his exposed side. I begin the transfer process, and the magician starts to struggle against his bindings.

"Stop. Stop it. What are you doing? What is he doing?" He yelled.

I step back after removing the ability. It's the power to create up to ten portals at a time at any point in space that has been seen within the last twenty-four hours. Any object that passes through the portals is accelerated, and multiple portals stack the effect. Complex organic life cannot pass through the portals. The size of the portals can be controlled to be anywhere between the size of a pin and an eighteen-wheeler truck cab. In the right hands, I could make someone the equivalent of a Neuvohuman rail gun. And for the first time in a while, I've stolen a true emotion: sadness.

"And for my next trick, I need a volunteer," Tuesday said, making her voice echo itself with a delay.

"Oh god, it's gone," the magician said.

"Perfect. So as I was saying, this next trick is an homage to two of the greatest magicians ever to live and my favorite movie," Tuesday shouted as she jumps onto the table.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Vivienne asked.

"I'm glad you asked, young lady."

Tuesday steps on the handle of the shotgun that's hanging off the table, sending it rotating into the air. She does a front flip off the table to grab it out of the air. Tuesday pirouettes and then transitions it into a jeté, placing the shotgun against the magician's abdomen. She pulls both triggers, and his stomach erupts in a shower of plywood shards, blood spray, and chunks of viscera. Tuesday turns to look at us, covered in the magician's remains.

"I call it Penn and Teller meets Ole Yeller."

"Jesus Christ," Vivienne said.

"It doesn't really work as a name. Penn and Teller were two separate magicians, and you shot him in the stomach with a shotgun instead of a rifle," Isaiah said.

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"Everyone's a critic nowadays."

"Wipe yourself off and clean this up later," I said, turning to leave. "Tuesday, Isaiah, you both did well. Tuesday, you have executed every mission perfectly and have followed my orders; it's time for a reward. Isaiah, you and I will have a talk after the meeting."

I saw Vivienne twitch when I talked about rewarding Tuesday. You still haven't found any proof that she purposely fucked up those bombs. Until you do, I will continue to treat her like everyone else. Tuesday uses her giant sleeves to wipe her mask and face clean. She smiles a manic grin at me.

"Reward? Oooh, I love surprises. What is it?"

"You just said you liked surprises," I said.

"I do. I'm also impatient. People are complex, contradictory creatures. I thought you'd know that," Tuesday responded.

Why do I bother?

The four of us walk into the meeting room together. Miles, Kai, and Rorschach are already there waiting. Kai has a tablet set up, and he's doing something on it, while Rorschach looks so bored that she might fall asleep. Miles is the only one treating it like a real meeting. He's attentive and stands up when we enter. Miles shakes my hand as I pass him to get to my chair. Everyone else should take a page out of Miles' book.

"Let's begin The Board meeting now. Isaiah, why don't you and Tuesday tell everyone how your mission went?" I asked.

Tuesday reaches under the table, rummaging through a box she must've hidden there. She pulls out two sock puppets with googly eyes glued onto them. One is a black sock on which Tuesday has used a white marker to draw eighteen rows of abdomen muscles, and the other looks like it took weeks to create. It has a miniature version of Tuesday's mask glued on, stitches on long sleeves, and pauldrons that look like she took them off an action figure.

"What the fuck kind of horse piss is this?" Rorschach asked.

"It's quite clearly a puppet show," Isaiah said, obviously trying to piss her off.

"Miles, you may do the thing," Tuesday said.

"What now?" Kai whined.

When did she plan all of this?

Miles holds his hand up, and light starts to trail away from the recessed lights in the ceiling and pool in his hand. He cups his hands together, and the room is plunged into darkness. He slowly opens them a tiny bit, and it looks like he's captured the sun in his hands. The little gap he's made shines onto Tuesday's hands as she's now under the table. Giant shadow versions of her sock puppets project onto the wall behind her. Why is this so elaborate?

"Remember, you follow my lead. Cause I got a stick up my ass and a hard on for Nobody so you better not screw this up for me," the Isaiah puppet said.

Tuesday is making the Isaiah puppet have a raspy, hoarse voice despite her ability to replicate him perfectly.

"I don't sound like that," Isaiah said.

"I think it's a perfect impression of you," Rorschach said.

"And I think you're a huge bitch. See how it's not always helpful to share what we think? Why don't you take this as a learning opportunity to grow?" Isaiah clapped back.

"I'll have to ask the audience to please remain silent during our scheduled performances," Tuesday said.

"Terribly sorry. Please continue," Rorschach said.

"Where was I? Oh, I remember," Tuesday said.

"You better no screw this up," Puppet Isaiah said.

"Of course, sir. I wouldn't dream of messing things up. There is nothing more important to me than the mission our glorious leader has given us. I will follow your incredible example," Puppet Tuesday said.

"We'll try the front door, and if they don't let us in, I'll break their bones and drink the marrow," Puppet Isaiah said.

Puppet Tuesday gasps, and Isaiah mumbles under his breath. Tuesday lowers the puppets under the table and adds a cardboard set piece that looks like the front of a bar. Then, the puppets return and approach the bar.

"LET ME IN! I DEMAND AN AUDIENCE!" Puppet Isaiah yelled.

Tuesday puts an action figure in front of the building. It's some generic army soldier.

"What's the password?" The action figure asked.

"Suck my cock," Puppet Isaiah said, batting the action figure away. "Let's go, Tuesday. Nobody gets in the way of Nobody."

Miles closes his hands, killing the light in the room. My helmet allows me to see Tuesday scrambling to change the set for her puppet show. The next set is a large diorama with a hand-painted background. She sets up several popsicle stick figures, a rabbit stuffed animal with a cape and top hat, and a Fleshlight she's customized. She's painted it bright red, glued devil horns onto it, and sculpted giant clay breasts onto it. The light returns, and everybody is silent as they look at what she's set up.

"Hey, sugartits, I heard this place is run by The Merchants," Puppet Isaiah said.

"Um, my name's actually Trixie, but I guess it doesn't matter," the Fleshlight said flirtatiously.

"I'm a magician, but I don't know any cool tricks," the rabbit said.

"That's okay, Mr. Magician. I believe you can do anything you put your mind to," Puppet Tuesday said kindly.

I doubt she was this nice to the guy I just watched her disembowel with a shotgun. Tuesday puts her puppet down, and starts having the Isaiah sock puppet dry hump the Fleshlight.

"Okay, none of this happened," Isaiah said.

"So you're saying you didn't stir the up skirt yogurt? You didn't board the pound-town pleasure bus and ride it all the way to the last stop? That you didn't shuck her oyster with a hot beef injection? You're trying to say you didn't play hide-the-hotdog or seek the slime slit? Are you saying you two didn't have a Jim Henson flesh-connection bedroom session?" Tuesday asked.

"Okay, technically we did have sex, but it wasn't like that," Isaiah said.

"You had me with most of those, but I don't get the last one. Who's Jim Henson?" Kai said.

"Oh for fucks sake; he created the Muppets. How does no one know about the Muppets? Have none of you seen It's a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie? God, I hate it here," Tuesday yelled.

"You can't even keep it in your pants on a mission, Hotpants? You're like a dog in heat," Vivienne piled on.

"All men are dogs, darling, and some dogs make fantastic partners. Others misbehave and need to be put down," Rorschach added.

"Maybe the rest of you would be less judgey if you knew I was trying to save her life. Trixie's family has a history of high blood pressure and hypertension. But, no, I guess you'd rather I leave that poor woman alone to live in fear of a heart attack or stroke. It's honestly disgusting to see women tearing down women," Isaiah said.

"He's not wrong. About the orgasm thing, I mean. He's a hundred percent lying about why he did it," Kai countered.

"Enough. Miles, put the light back. Isaiah, report just the facts of what happened," I said, silencing the others.

"Tuesday and I entered the possible Merchants-owned bar per Rorschach's reconnaissance. The bouncer wouldn't let us in, so we had to improvise. We made sure not to kill him and then entered the underground bar. We met with the owner, who turned out to be a Broker for the group. We were able to convince her to meet with us. She does have a power that allows her to sense intentions. I do not know the mechanics of it, but when I thought about kidnapping her so Nobody could take her power, it immediately alerted her to my thoughts. It didn't tell her exactly what my intentions were, but she remarked that I had thought about causing her harm. Once that was smoothed over, we spoke about wanting to sell powers to The Merchants," Isaiah said, pausing to see if anyone had questions.

I wave him along, and he continues.

"She immediately decided that she would have to try and get a higher-up involved in the deal. We waited patiently, and she let us know that people from The Board would be coming ASAP. I don't know where they came from, but three representatives showed up: Alchemist, Mr. Kim, and Prophet of Profit. I believe all three are Neuvohumans, but the only one that I can say for sure has powers is Mr. Kim. He has some way of determining a person's threat level, and either his power is reactive, or he's constantly activating it. He adjusted my threat rating during our talks," Isaiah said.

What is the ability? Knowing what the other party brings to the table will only help. Mr. Kim has to be a Mentalist, but what kind? Does he read minds? Does he possess an ability similar to the Broker woman's? I need more information.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what?" Isaiah asked in return.

"Why did he change your threat level? Think hard; this is very important. You too, Tuesday. Do either of you remember why he did that?"

This could be the difference between being at their mercy and forcing them to think of us as a partner. Being below Technologica's thumb is unacceptable, and The Merchants represent resources we desperately need. I should've had Rorschach send some of her creatures with them. Damn it.

"Isaiah did most of the talking, and they wrote me off fairly early on. But I was paying attention, and I think I might've figured something out about his power," Tuesday said seriously.

Oh?

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