“Hey, you sure you don’t want me to drive you all the way to the house?”
“No thanks, we’re fine.”
The cabbie was a decent fellow, slightly concerned that two young ladies would want to be dropped off at an empty street corner so late at night. What he could not have known was that, even though they were both slender and attractive, they were more than capable of taking care of themselves. The two ladies walked down to the far end of the lane where one special house held one special family. Shego and Bonnie crept to the door and the taller woman removed a slim leather case from her belt; the former thief knelt at the door and practiced her art.
“Won’t the Drs. P be mad at you breaking in like this?”
“No”, she hoped. “I’ve been given an open invitation, but it’s late and they’ll all be in bed.”
The lock was soon picked and the door pushed silently open. The young women walked into the darkened foyer and towards the living room. Shego managed to take three steps before a hidden muzzle ejected a net from the ceiling, ensnaring the pale woman and lifting her up off the floor. Bonnie backed against the wall in fear as a muted alarm started to sound, followed shortly by the sound of running feet.
“Alright, who’s… Shego?” John Possible was fully dressed in his nightclothes and holding a slide rule like a truncheon. He walked to stand beneath the swaying bundle and peered at her through sleepy eyes.
“Um, Hi, John.”
“Shego, what is going on? Are you all right? Where’s Kim?” He then noticed the other woman backed against his hallway wall. “Oh, hello, Bonnie.”
“Um, hello, Dr. Mr. P.”
“How’s your mother?”
“She’s fine, fine.”
“Excuse me, John? Can I get down from here?”
“BOYS!”
John turned to direct the call back up the stairwell to his sons’ room; he was certain that they’d already be awake and fully aware that their burglar-trap had worked all too well. The Tweebs were indeed awake and already lurking around the corner of the landing, afraid to move closer for fear of Shego’s wrath. They resigned themselves and pressed a button on a handheld remote control; the net slowly lowered to the floor and opened.
“Thank you, now go back to bed and we’ll discuss this in the morning.”
“Yes, Dad.” Jim and Tim scampered back to their room.
Shego let Bonnie help her to her feet, musing that this was the second time in one night when someone far less dangerous than herself had subdued her. She silently cursed how she had been changed through her love for Kim, but quickly prayed that her young wife would be Ok and return to her.
“Now what in the wide, wide world of sports brings you girls here at this time of the night? And where is Kim?” John didn’t sound angry at being wakened, just concerned. Shego felt closer to him than to any other member of the Possible family, and she wasn’t going to do anything to change that relationship.
“The truth is that we never intended to wake you. I wanted to wait here until morning, then have a talk with you and your wife.”
“You wanted to wait until morning to speak with us, and yet you came here now.” John considered this and it didn’t add up. “Why not come over in the morning?”
Shego really hadn’t planned her explanation yet; it was another reason why she’d hoped to have few hours to think.
“Because my girls are here, and because I didn’t want to go home.”
“Oh.” John’s eyes widened, but only slightly.
“Yes, ‘Oh’.”
“Well, please excuse my manners. Come on into the kitchen.” The tall man beckoned them forward and sighed, never at his brilliant best when awakened from a sound sleep. They followed him and he soon had the kettle on the stove.
“John, what’s going on down there?” The voice was muted by distance, but unmistakable. Great, thought Shego, a bigger audience.
“We’re in the kitchen, dear.”
Anne padded into the bright room and Shego was struck by how much Kim resembled her mother, especially on the morning that Kim had thrown her across the room during that violent nightmare. The same sleepy look, the same wild red hair, and even a similar pair of fuzzy slippers gave Shego a brief glimpse into the future. Anne walked to the table as if still asleep, dropping down into a chair like a puppet with its strings cut, yet another mannerism that Shego recognized.
“So, I take it that you’re feeling better?” Anne had noticed how Bonnie and Shego were dressed.
“Huh?”
“From your colds; Kimmie said that you were going to stay in tonight and gets lots of sleep.”
“When did she say this?” Shego felt a chill.
“She called here after you got back in town; she said that neither of you were feeling well and asked if we could keep the children.” Anne looked to her husband for confirmation. “That was what she said, right?”
“She sure did, sweetheart.”
The chill became a needle of ice that threaded itself around Shego’s guts. Her long black hair flowed over her like a shroud as she lowered her head onto her arms and closed her eyes.
“No, no… Oh, Princess, what is happening to you?” The words started as a whisper but had become a moan of anguish at the end. Three people exchanged glances over Shego’s head. John moved first, handing out steaming mugs to all.
“So that wasn’t the truth?” He looked to Bonnie because the raven-haired woman at the table didn’t seem able to voice a reply. The young brunette found herself the center of attention.
“I don’t know about a phone call, but the three of us were out all evening. Kim did mention that you were looking after the children for her.”
“But our Kimmie-cub doesn’t lie.” Anne was shaking her head adamantly.
“Now, dear, there’ve been a few little white lies over the years.” Anne knew that this was not what they were talking about, that no matter what John meant this was much more. She didn’t get the chance to respond.
“No, Anne is right.” Shego raised her head. “Kim doesn’t lie, not blatantly, not easily.” She looked around at the three. “Not about things like this…”
Over the next two hours, and with many questions and interruptions from the Possibles, Shego told everyone the full details of Kim’s mercurial moods and unusual behavior from the past few days. Each older adult took turns as ‘Doubting Thomas’ to attempt to explain such behavior or to poke holes in Shego’s story, but it was obvious that they each trusted Shego thoroughly when their favorite redhead was concerned.
“And you brought Bonnie here with you, why?”
They’d moved to the den so that they could speak in conversational levels without waking the boys or the infants. Bonnie had fallen asleep on a leather couch against the wall and was leaning against Anne, who had asked the question out of curiosity; she brushed a strand of errant hair from the young woman’s face, recalling the old feuds between this young woman and her daughter.
“Kim might go looking for her.” Shego had told a white lie of her own, deliberately downplaying the tryst Kim had hoped to arrange. “Could you let her stay here for the night, please?”
“And the two of you aren’t back at the apartment waiting for Kim because…?”
“Because it’s better that she not see us together right now.”
“I don’t like this one bit.” John had been sitting on the corner of his desk and rose to place his hand on the shoulder of his wife. “There are too many questions and not enough data.” The tall man looked down to where his wife had draped a light sweater over Bonnie’s flimsy dress.
“Both of you will stay here for the night, and we’ll get Kimmie over here in the morning to have another talk.” John couldn’t stand to see so much unexplained hurt.
“Anne, I’ll make up the sofa in the living room for Bonnie, and…”
“Wait…” Shego stood and moved to the sleeping brunette, lifting the young woman in her arms as she’d lifted her Princess many, many times.
“Please let Bonnie take the bed in Kim’s room, with the girls. Kim would agree.” She saw from their doubting looks that she would have to tell Bonnie’s story eventually. “I need to stay up and think for awhile; I’ll stay downstairs.”
Not wanting to see the questions and fear in their eyes any longer, Shego hurried away and carried the sleeping girl to the loft bedroom, gently laying her down on the bed; that was all she would do, even if Bonnie’s dress became creased as a result. Sounds from the cribs alerted Shego to the fact that her daughters were awake, and she could never have left without seeing first to their needs.
Kasy’s tiny face lit up with a smile at the sight of her ‘Mom’, as did little Sheki’s.
In turn, each infant was inspected and cared for, cleaned and returned to her own crib. Shego performed these acts automatically, as if in cruise control, as if she had been field-cleaning one of Drakken’s old ‘Doomsday Weapons’ or recalibrating a ‘Death Ray’.
The good news was that the children didn’t know any better; Shego’s touch was as gentle and soft as it could ever be. The bad news was that Shego knew better, that she would never be, could never be, the mother that her Princess was. These thoughts made her hardened exterior begin to weaken and crack; the babies wanted love and affection and they were about to get tears.
“Shego, please come away from there.”
So absorbed had she been in the ministrations to her daughters that the tall warrior had not noticed the approach from outside the room. She turned to have her heart skip a beat; that voice, that silhouette, the glint of a nightlight off red hair. A hand was extended, the voice firm but not commanding.
“Please don’t let them see their mother cry.”
With loving kisses, Shego bade her children goodnight. She left the room and accompanied her Mother-In-Law back downstairs to the living room where they returned to the seats they’d occupied from a few short minutes ago. Anne was the one that Shego felt the most pressured to prove herself to, the one whose yardstick she felt she would never measure up to; living with their perfect daughter, caring for their perfect grandchildren.
“Anne, I… just don’t…”
“Don’t what?” The face, so like that of her Princess, could be so neutral.
“I’m just not the mother that Kimmie is.”
“Well, Doy! Of course not! You’re the kind of mother that you are, and from what I’ve seen a pretty damn good one.”
This was not what Shego had expected to hear; Anne sensed this and continued.
“I’ve seen Kimmie fawn and coo over those girls too much sometimes, and I’ve seen you reign her in. Sometimes you handle them like they’re made of glass, but you never, ever act like you’re afraid or that you want to avoid touching them. These are your first children, and from what I can deduce, are more than you’d ever planned for, right?”
Shego could only nod. Anne leaned closer and took a pale hand.
“I’ve watched you like a hawk from the first time I saw you with those girls.” Anne saw the subtle change in Shego’s face; something fell, hurt and pained. “No, don’t misunderstand me; it was Kimmie that I was watching also.”
The emerald eyes held more questions.
“I’d done my best to expose our Kimmie to the responsibilities of being a wife and mother, never knowing how she would handle the role if and when her life turned in that direction. Lord knows that no one should ever be forced into that situation.” Her tone turned hard, cold. “You were struck by this as much as she was; I consider it nothing less than rape, what that bastard Lipsky did to the two of you.”
Being so used to the Dr. Mr.’s rigid attitude towards strong language, Shego was startled to hear the venom in Anne’s voice, and practically scandalized at hearing the word ‘rape’.
“I’ve seen you laugh and play and scold, all from the heart and not out of resignation or a forced sense of duty. Both Kimmie and I give you a ten out of ten.”
Shego’s smile was as bright on her face as it was in her heart.
“But that score drops to seven if they attempt to take over the world before they’re twenty!”
“Oh, don’t worry about that; college comes first.” Shego was glad for the chance to breath easier, and the moment passed all too quickly for both women.
“You think this is bad, do you?” Anne was feeling as is she needed to have her own little girl back in her arms for some over-bearing affection right now.
“I do, and while I agree with John that we need Kim here for answers, I doubt it will be that easy.” Seeing that Shego was settled, Anne took her leave and returned to her husband; the pale woman with the green-tinted skin lay down across fine leather and prayed to forget the last few hours.
The rich scent of coffee wafted through the hallway and into the living room, waking Shego from a dream in which Kim had been dissolving in her arms. No matter how tightly her pale hands gripped her lover, the slender girl literally melted away. The process was apparently painless because there were no screams of agony, just a look of betrayal and hurt in those green eyes.
Shego opened her own green eyes and saw the room lit by a faint glow; it was still very early and she could not have slept more than a few hours but the dawning sun had no way of knowing that. Her face split in a yawn and she swung her legs from the couch, leaving her shoes behind to pad towards the kitchen to beg for coffee if that’s what she had to do to get some.
The room was much the same as when she’d seen it last except that the brunette seated with the Possibles was not Bonnie Rockwaller. The newcomer turned and greeted Shego directly.
“Good morning.” Shego did not acknowledge this, instead looking to her in-laws for enlightenment. Anne offered a steaming mug and a seat to her, and both were accepted.
“Dr. Director arrived just a few minutes ago. She hasn’t said anything yet out of respect for you. I was about to wake you when you walked in.” Shego accepted this also; Anne’s sincerity shone through her anxiety. “Bonnie is still asleep upstairs with the girls.”
Betty Director had met with many a parent and spouse to deliver news of injury or death; it was the ultimate sacrifice to make for the security of the nation, indeed for the safety of the world. Agents of Global Justice faced the risk of those potential fates each and every time they were dispatched for a mission; this time it was different, and she couldn’t mask herself with the veneer that one of her charges had ‘fallen in the line of duty’.
“Anne, John…” the woman turned towards Shego, her steady gaze enough of a substitute for the use of the retired villain’s name. “It is imperative that I speak with Kimberly as soon as she can be located. I wish to have her escorted back to Global Justice headquarters and interviewed by our medical staff.”
Shego and the Possibles stared at her, not daring to speak.
“The long and the short of it is that Global Justice has had Kim Possible under Class-Three surveillance for just over one week and I am here to see that she surrenders herself into custody for debriefing and medical examination.”
“We made your agents at the airport! You were watching US?”
“The airport, your apartment, the club last night; yes, we were there. Is there any way that I could get some more of that delicious coffee? The tripe that ‘GJ’ dredges up is quite rancid.” She returned her empty mug to the table and continued.
“Do any of you know where she is right now?”
Naturally secretive, Shego had her answer ready.
“Get bent.”
“Language.”
“…”
John was ready with a refill and his own answer, but the face of the man was anything but friendly. He settled a gentle hand on the pale shoulder of his daughter-in-law to show his support of her thoughts, if not her words.
“The truth is that we do not. We’d hoped to speak with her this morning, but hadn’t called her yet.” The tall man’s eyes glazed over briefly. “I don’t think that we know where to start looking.”
Shego absently looked around for the telephone; she separated herself from the somber group and made a quick call to the apartment she shared with her Kimmie, not quite sure if she wanted the call answered or not. This was wrong, all wrong, and she disconnected the call after several rings, a quick shake of her head speaking volumes.
“But why would you come here for our Kimmie? What has she done?”
“Yes, please explain yourself, you’re upsetting my wife and the wife of my daughter.”
“I am here out of the deepest respect and affection for Kimberly. We have reason to believe that she is ill, very ill, and that she needs to be treated immediately.” The next question was directed to Shego.
“Has Kimberly been acting odd of late, not herself?”
“Yes…”
“Fits of mania, fugues of deep depression, bouts of limitless energy, dramatic displays of open… affection?”
…yes.”
As each point had been listed, Shego felt her heart sink inside her chest. Her Princess had indeed displayed all of those traits in good measure, and flowing from one to the next in seconds. It had worried her at the time, now she felt as if an enormous clock were ticking somewhere, a deathwatch, counting down to something dreadful.
“Have you noticed any unusual physical symptoms?”
“Like what?” Dr. Director could see no duplicity in the emerald eyes of her former quarry, just puzzlement, so she elaborated.
“Has Kimberly exhibited any cold-like symptoms?”
“Well, yeah, but only since yesterday.”
“Has she been bathing often, more so than usual?”
That was the last straw; this was BULLSHIT!
“What the Hell does that matter?” Pitch and volume increased with fear and anxiety. “What is wrong with her? What are you not telling us?”
“Please… please trust me when I say that I have nothing but Kimberly’s well-being at heart when I tell you that she may be terribly ill. Please let us examine her, I beg you.”
“We aren’t taking about some simple virus or bacteria, are we?”
“No, sir, we are not.”
“How long…” All eyes turned to Shego, who seemed to be wound so tight that she might explode. The specific issue on her mind at that moment was too unbearable to think about. “How long would you need to hold her for examination.”
This straightforward question deserved an equally straightforward response. Dr. Director sighed to herself, knowing that her next words might end up being her last.
“Kimberly would be detained indefinitely, with the possibility of perpetual quarantine.”
For so many years the threat of capture and imprisonment had weighed heavy on the soul of this young warrior, and her entire being was geared towards remaining free and strong. To be locked away for months or years was the price of such freedom, and society could not stand to be reminded that there were others stronger than themselves.
She knew that her crimes came with a price, but what price was her Princess being forced to pay? What kind of shit reward was this for a life of selfless work and sacrifice, all in the name of making the world a safer place, safe from criminals like Shego?
“Over my dead body!”
She would not allow her beloved angel to be caged, the very image made her see green. Fists ignited with cascading green death and Shego was on her feet; advancing towards the uniformed woman, almost close enough to strike before a firm hand restrained her.
John Possible stood between Dr. Director and her eminent demise. The uniformed woman stood and moved closer, politely waiting for John to decide if he should stand aside; once he made his decision and cleared the way, Shego would have a clear target if that was what she wanted. Betty Director motioned the warrior back down into her chair and remained standing to address the family.
“I beg you, if you see her before Global Justice does, contact us immediately.” She withdrew and saw herself to the door.
Anne stood and let her husband hold her tight, her faint sobs muffled against his chest. Shego stood alone, hating herself in her impotence. I’m a damn super villain, for crying out loud! I should be able to figure out where Kim is before anyone. She’s traveled all over the world, with little or no backup, even counting the buffoon, with no other support system than a pudgy kid that never leaves his…
The Possibles were startled out of their despair by the sound of Shego slapping her forehead.
“SHIT… sorry, sorry! Quick, do you know if Princess keeps a spare Kimmunicator around?”
The adults looked to each other and John broke the embrace just long enough to leave the room and return with a small blue device in his palm. He offered it to the pale woman, who grabbed at it like it was a life preserver. Thumbing the toggle at the side, she opened the general frequency channel and waited to see who answered; she was rewarded with the face of someone that she’d never planned to want to speak to directly in her life.
“Um, hello, Wade.”
“Oh. Hi, yourself. Does Kim know you have that?”
“No, she’s not here. That’s why…”
“You aren’t going to flash me again, are you?” Suddenly aware of two pairs of eyes looking her way, Shego steered clear of that incident.
“Wade, it’s important that I speak with Kim.” This was met with a hooded gaze as the young boy took a leisurely drink.
“Why? You didn’t want to go on this mission. Kim said that you were watching the children, but she sounded different.” He paused to consider the reasons. “I think you two had a fight and I’m not inclined to tell you squat.”
“Look, I don’t know what ‘mission’ you’re talking about, but I have no idea where Kim is and need to speak with her NOW!”
Anne moved in and gently pried the small device from Shego’s clenched fingers; the blue casing was already starting to smolder as plasma threatened to erupt. With a few assuring words from the Mrs. Dr. P, the boy divulged the details of Kim’s mission, how she and Ron had taken a plane into South America several hours ago, and how they’d been out of contact for most of that time. After making Wade promise her parents that he would keep trying to contact Kim, Anne broke the connection.
“When Wade said ‘flashed’, I take it to mean that you exposed yourself.” John was aghast.
“Yeah, just as a goof.”
“Need I remind you that Wade is a minor?” His arms were crossed and he did not appreciate the humor of such an action.
“But it was a joke!”
“Nevertheless, please refrain from that sort of behavior.”
“But… NUTS. You people are worse than Kimmie! After I did that, she royally proceeded to rip me a new assho…”
“Language.”
“GHAA!”
The mighty Shego let her heart rage at these naïve sheep and stomped out of the kitchen. Anne handed a mug to John and he refilled it in time for Shego to return and take it from his proffered hand.
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
Anne didn’t say a word, just stroked a pale arm as John kissed a pale cheek. Shego drank the coffee and the remnants of Team Possible discussed how to best begin a search for their beloved Kim. Two things happened almost at once; the Kimmunicator on the kitchen table chirped its familiar telltale and the doorbell chimed. Shego activated the machine as Anne moved through the living room.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if you’re really interested in Kim, I just got a microburst transmission from Ron.” The young boy frowned, both at the decoded message on his screens and at the raven-haired recipient of his call. “He says that they’ve been captured.”
“What?”
“JOHN! COME QUICK!” Anne’s voice cut through the air, distracting Shego.
“That’s the strange part… he says by ’GJ’. Then the transmission stopped.”
“JOHN, SHE’S BACK!”
The scientist ran past the kitchen towards the front door and Shego let the Kimmunicator drop from her hand, the boy at the other end calling her name, demanding to know what was happening. The pale woman felt her heart stop as she rounded the corner and saw Anne Possible holding the door open to reveal a recently departed houseguest. Dr. Director did not ask for admittance.
“We’ve found her.” She gestured over her shoulder to a waiting vehicle. “Please let me take you to her.”
Interlude.
“Now, I know that you don’t really want to hurt anyone, right?”
A leg was thrust out in reply, taking down a full-grown and highly trained ‘GJ’ agent. Several more moved closer to fill the gap.
“Ok, just so you know, these field suits are designed for kinetic and impact displacement. You can’t hurt us, so we’re not going away.”
A slender arm rammed a palm up into the protected chin of the closest agent, snapping his head back and dropping him to the floor, unconscious.
“Oy, that’s going to leave a mark; listen, why don’t you sit down and we can talk this over like friends? I mean, we’ve all worked with you at some time or another, right?”
Two agents moved in from behind; the target of their assault spun and planted a foot in the center of a shielded chest, denting it and sending the wearer flying. The second agent was distracted for only a moment, allowing the defender to launch him in the opposite direction of his cohort.
“I was hoping that we could do this easy, kid. I’m really sorry. Maybe we can sit down and have a beer when this is all over, huh?” The rest of the agents, seven in all, moved forward as a unit.
One minute later, Ron Stoppable was the only one standing. In his clenched fists he held the Field Commander up against the nearest bulkhead, the stunned man beaten but unbowed. Agent Benson even found a shred of amusement in the tiny pink rodent that growled at him from the shoulder of the young man.
“WHAT is WRONG with KP?”
Across the storage bay of the massive transport plane, a team of medical technicians monitored the form of Kim Possible; the slender girl was incoherent and rambling, encased in a plastic and steel cocoon of shielding and sensors.
The machine looked like a coffin designed by H. R. Giger.
“Kid, I wish I knew. We all do.”
End Interlude.
The black van did not park in front of the hardware store façade, rather it entered an adjacent alley that terminated at a nondescript loading door. The steel door rose to admit the vehicle, and then lowered again to allow the Possible family to enter the Middleton headquarters of Global Justice in privacy. The two adults and two teenaged boys were politely escorted down several long hallways and deep down within the bowels of the secured facility.
Shego was not with them; she’d begged to take the Possibles’ car for a side trip back to her apartment before she joined them at the facility. They gave her their keys and their trust and the pale woman vaulted up the steps to wake Bonnie and have a quick word with the brunette before speeding away. Only after assuring the older adults that Bonnie was absolutely the best person to watch Kasy and Sheki were they confident enough to leave the house with the young woman in charge.
Dr. Director had been explicit in her description of Kim’s condition, but had made no effort to explain the cause of her infirmity. She had hoped to prepare them for what they were about to see, but she wished that she were a harder woman and could bring herself to refuse them entry to the medical wing.
The room was large, almost an acre of floor space, every fixed surface a stark white, filled with the most sophisticated constructs of modern medicine. Several of the machines were prototypes and designed to handle purely theoretical health issues; Anne could tell that many of the med-techs were desperate to see how they could be applied to her daughter’s treatment.
In the middle of the room was a short wall covered with tiles, the height of which was exactly three feet and creating a square corral. The wall became transparent at that point and continued upwards to a height of twenty feet, which was also the length and breadth of this room within a room. The only feature that bridged the transition from opaque to translucent was a hermetically sealed airlock, through which med-techs passed with samples and the results of their careful analyses.
The room was furnished with an elevated bed and several raised stools, but all were permanently molded to the floor; nothing in the room could be moved, and no medical equipment had been brought inside. Dr. Director brought the two older Possibles into this subterranean hospital and introduced them to the senior member of their med-tech staff, a middle-aged man with a drastically receding hairline.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Mark Hall. My team and I are taking good care of your daughter.”
“Dr. Hall, I know your work with ‘Project Scoop’ from several years ago.” Anne shook the man’s hand, as did her husband, but she felt more frightened than encouraged by the man’s presence.
“Well, more like its repercussions.” He smiled at them grimly.
“Is that the sort of thing that is wrong with Kim?”
“No… I’ve relayed all of our findings to Dr. Director and she’ll be briefing you on her full condition shortly.” He was obviously dodging the question, and motioned them over to the glass enclosure. “Let’s take you to your daughter.”
From where they were standing, the little group could see another physician standing in the room, and a slight form lying back on the bed; the shape moved from time to time, apparently in conversation with the doctor.
“That’s Dr. Mrs. Hall, my wife. We met at the ‘Wildfire’ project. She’s in there to ask your daughter a few questions.”
“Oh, she’s awake?” John was becoming severely puzzled; exactly how ill was his child if she was speaking?
“Yes, and quite lucid at the moment. She had a seizure when the ‘GJ’ rescue team encountered her and her friend, but she regained consciousness and mobility shortly after they arrived here.”
The other doctor, a handsome black woman roughly the same age as Hall, stepped away from the bed and smiled at the visitors. The occupant of the single bed looked up and waved at them while Anne and John did all that they could to retain their composure.
After returning her wave, Dr. Hall turned away from his patient and muttered to the Possibles under his breath.
“I know that you’ll do your best not to upset her, and you can stay as long as you wish.” He looked at them intently. “Do not be alarmed if she seems a little ‘unfocused’ or unaware of her physical condition.”
Kim was dressed in a simple hospital gown, tied in the back, and was wearing padded stockings on her feet. Her hair was unkempt but had been brought away from her face by means of a simple ponytail. The only sign that something was amiss were the rivulets of black running from every visible orifice, smeared here and there by an occasional careless hand.
The tarry substance encircled her eyes like a border of mascara, and the sides of her neck were coated with the same film as it dripped down from her ears. The young woman stopped waving and made a half-hearted attempt to clean the ooze from her upper lip as it streamed from her nostrils, but had to abort that action when she suddenly retched and expelled a mouthful of the tar out onto her bedding. Dr. Mrs. Hall was quick with a hug and a towel to clean the offending mess from Kim’s face and chest.
“Sweet Lord…” John felt sick; by act of will alone he refused to be repulsed.
“John, please. She’s our baby!” All of Anne’s training as a healer had to be brought to bear. Their expressions were calm as they approached the glass, but each was thinking that this could not be happening.
“Hey, Kimmie-cub! How was your mission? Is, um, is Ronald alright?”
“He’s fine, Dad. He’s around here somewhere; he got pretty upset when ‘GJ’ showed up and I think that he attacked them!” Kim’s attention seemed to waiver before she resumed. “They won’t let me see him.”
“I’m certain that he’s Ok, sweetheart. We’ll find him and make sure. How would that be?”
“Spank’n! Thanks.” Her voice was thick, muddy.
“Kimmie, how do you feel?”
“Tired, sort of run-down. Dr. Mr. and Dr. Mrs. H are taking real good care of me, though. I’ll be back home in no time!” She sneezed, and globs of black sprayed in a grimy cloud. She choked, and more of the vile material flowing in a slick down across her chin.
Here teeth were black when she smiled at them.
“Kimmie-cub, we didn’t want to interrupt your rest with too many visitors, so we left the boys outside in the anti-room. We’d better go and tell them that you’re… that you’re doing well.” John gripped his wife by the shoulders, his guts knotting at the sight of his daughter.
“That’s fine. You can send them in if you want. I’ll see if they’ll lend me my clothes.” Kim shifted on the padded surface, displaying similar black stains underneath her legs. Her parents could take no more of this and hurriedly said goodbye to their child, assuring Kim that they would remain in the facility and would see her again very soon.
Oblivious to anything but the exit, Anne wailed soundlessly the very moment that the door was closed and John looked as if he wanted to break something. Dr. Hall had followed them out and stood well back; he’d seen this look in the faces of family members before and knew what to expect. When he felt that they were receptive, he approached them.
“The secretions are the worst of her physical symptoms, I can assure you. She’s been given nourishment and mild antibiotics for anything she might have encountered down in South America, and she’s had plenty of rest and care since ‘GJ’ found her.” The man sighed, feeling beaten. “I’d recommend that you not allow your boys to see her like this.”
“But what in the Hell is wrong with her? I’ve been working in medicine for years and have never even heard of anything with symptoms like that!” Anne was desperate for information; it was the only thing that would fight back the horror and keep her from becoming a sobbing mess.
“Please, everything will be explained at the briefing. It would be safe enough for you to bring your sons, as well as Kim’s friend.” Hall seemed at a loss for words.
“I understand that she has children?”
“Two beautiful little girls.”
“She also has a life-partner. Her name is Shego; we’d like visitation to extend to her also.” John’s request was supported by a nod from his wife.
“Damn.” Hall rubbed his eyes to ward off despair. “You’re welcome here at any time to visit her; and that offer certainly stands for Shego when she arrives. I promise that my wife and I will take care of her as if she were our own.” He bade them goodbye and returned to the treatment ward.
When Shego had arrived a few minutes earlier, she was wearing her usual ‘battle’ outfit and it was all that the ‘GJ’ security teams could do not to initiate their several contingency plans for an invasion; having been so high on their ‘Most Wanted’ list for years, they were eager to see if they could take her down. The green and black outfit had been seen several times in the facility of late, most recently at Kim’s evaluation, but they would never be at rest while she walked free.
She gained access as far as the final checkpoint to the medical level when she was detained. The stupid little drone must have been glued to his clipboard because he never laid it down when he spoke to her.
“Look, ass-clown, I’ve been cleared for every other level before this one and I’m not telling you again; I’m here to see Kim Possible!”
“But you’re not on the list.”
“But I am her WIFE!” This proclamation gave the man pause as he glanced back to the list of known family.
“Legally?”
Shego almost killed the imbecile. She stood stock-still and actually watched herself in her mind’s eye as she razed this entire facility to the ground, burying all of the local ‘GJ’ contingent and her beloved Kimmie and herself under tons of debris. Then no one would ever question her right to be with Kimmie ever again. Two things restrained her.
One was the mental image of her darling children. The other was a lanky form running down the hallway from behind the security checkpoint.
“Whoa! Shego! Don’t freak out, it’s Ok!”
Ron turned to the agent and apparently knew how to speak ‘stupid ass-clown drone’ well enough to prompt the agent into contacting a superior. Once clearance was confirmed, Ron led the warrior to a comfortable room where he and Kim’s brothers were waiting.
“We’re in here while the Drs. P are in with KP. I just got here and found the boys.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t let us in. That’s bogus!”
“Yeah, we have to wait and see if Mom and Dad say it’s Ok. That’s double bogus!”
‘yah,s’bogus!”
“Sorry, buddy. I hear that the med-techs have a real problem about having anything in their medical ward with the word ‘rat’ in its name.” Rufus grunted and lowered his head back into Ron’s pocket.
Shego’s own experiences with her brothers made her leery of siblings, but Kim’s ‘Tweebs’ weren’t so bad. They were as much a threat to themselves as to anyone else, and their inventions were amazing, almost up to Drakken’s standards. The image of her former employer made her cringe and she erased the thought from her mind. The twin boys actually reminded her of her youngest brothers, also twins, but they’d been too young when Shego left home to be much more than a slight nuisance as members of Team Go.
Jim and Tim actually cleared a spot for Shego to sit between them; right now she was the closest link available to their big sister and besides, they liked Shego. She gave each of them a hesitant pat on the head before speaking to Ron.
“How is she?”
“Pretty rough.” Ron gave his former enemy a complete run-down of the mission and Kim’s collapse at the end, as well as the ‘capture’ by Global Justice. Ron hadn’t seen the same level of emotional and mental turmoil that Shego had witnessed the past few days; in fact, the Kim he described as they had started on their mission was much like the ‘KP’ he’d always known.
When he told her about the seizure and the secretions, Shego went numb.
“I had no idea that all this could be tied together.”
“Hey, how could you know?”
“I’ve seen her acting so strangely… and all this time, she was sick.”
They turned at the sound of doors being opened and watched Kim’s parents walk into the waiting area; they were both pale and shaken, never a good sign.
“Mom! Dad! Can we see her?”
“Boys, your mother and I feel that Kimmie is still too tired to have so many visitors at once.” John gestured that Shego should accompany him out of the room. The whole experience was so surreal that Shego didn’t notice the slight tug on her scalp as a tiny pink rodent hid in her thick hair as it flowed down her back.
“Ronald, there’s going to be a briefing shortly and we want you and the boys to attend with us. Would you please give them an idea of what they might see and hear, so that… so that…” Anne turned her face away. “So that they’ll better understand.”
“Sure, Dr. Mrs. P.” Ron hadn’t seen Kim since their return to the States, but he knew what she meant and that the ‘Tweebs’ needed to be prepared for their sisters appearance. Disappointed but obedient, the boys were listening attentively to Ron as Shego and John walked down the hall to the medical ward.
“I’ll wait back here with Anne so that you and Kim can be alone. I don’t know when this so-called ‘briefing’ is going to be conducted, but now that we’re all here, I suspect that it will be very soon.” John motioned towards the doors to the treatment ward. “We won’t let them start without you.”
“Thanks, Dr. P, for including me in everything.”
John only nodded, too heart sick to speak. Then he returned to the waiting room and she entered the ward and moved closer to the white sterile prison.
“Shego!”
Kim leapt off of the bed and started to run to the glass wall; a kind but firm pair of hands held her back.
“You just hold on there, baby girl, while I make you look pretty for your lady friend.”
Dr. Karen Hall wiped Kim off and made her drink from a large plastic tumbler. Kim stood obediently as she was tended to; occasionally stealing glances over to where her lover waited anxiously, flashing a now-brilliantly white smile.
“Now you stay put while I tell her a thing or two and then I’ll make myself scarce, Ok?” Kim gave the older woman a big hug and Dr. Hall moved to the airlock. Once outside, Shego kept her face as neutral as ever while the black woman divested herself of a vinyl coverall and greeted the newcomer halfway between the door and the observation cell.
“You’re Shego?” A quick nod answered that question. “I’m Dr. Karen Hall. Kim’s parents told you about her symptoms, right?” This was answered with another quick nod; Shego couldn’t even look the woman in the eyes, all she could do was watch Kim wait patiently for her through the glass.
“We want to keep her as calm as possible and so far she’s doing just fine. Part of her condition is affecting the temporal lobe in her brain, so if she acts a little confused don’t let that bother you.” The older woman smiled warmly back at Kim, who waved.
“Her secretions have abated, which seems to be the case after a major attack, but you’ll hear all about that at the briefing. I’ve cleaned her up and she should stay clean while the two of you are together.” Dr. Hall’s voice caught briefly and Shego noticed.
“Please see if you can get her to drink more of the solution in the tumbler. It’s a slurry of basic vitamins and proteins, but she doesn’t like the taste.” The physician moved away and Shego walked to the mother of her children. A wheeled stool had been placed near the glass wall.
Kim looked as beautiful as always, any signs of infirmity cleaned away by the attending staff. Dressed as she was in a fresh gown and stockings, her Princess might as well have been getting ready for bed in their apartment, after having selected a rather bland set of pajamas that Shego would surely have teased her about.
“Shego? Baby, what’s wrong?” The tall woman was pulled from her reverie.
“Nothing, just… just so glad to see that you’re Ok.” The voice was clear and the eyes only slightly glazed. Kim didn’t look nearly as bad as the others had described, thank goodness that there was none of that black stuff anywhere.
“How are the girls?”
“As good as gold and twice as beautiful; if they weren’t ours already, I’d steal them.”
Shego opened an outer pocket and pulled out a Polaroid picture of their daughters, taken when both had been awake and looking at the camera. Kasy had her tiny mouth open in what had been an ear-splitting shriek and Sheki had clapped her hands over her little ears and was grinning. Shego turned away from Kim just long enough to locate some medical tape on a nearby cart.
She carefully taped the picture to the glass of the medical cell, making sure that all four sides were secure. Kim smiled at the image and leaned close and smooched the glass between herself and the picture of her daughters. Under normal circumstances, this would have been cute. To Shego, it was Hell. Kim blinked a few times and seemed to shift to a different train of thought.
“Shego… I’m sorry that we fought at the club.” She looked pained.
“You remember that?”
“Sure. I really don’t blame you; it was my fault. I hadn’t spoken to you about my idea and than to spring in on you like that, well, that wasn’t fair.”
“It’s Ok, Pumpkin.”
“I mean, I know that you want Bonnie, but the three of us together at once, well, that can wait ‘til later.” Kim was looking away, nodding to herself as if she were making the most logical suggestion in the world. Shego just felt ill.
“We can talk about that later. How do you feel?”
“Oh, alright, I guess.” A hand rose to let slender fingers idly twirl a loose strand of red hair. “They won’t let me out.”
“I know, baby.”
“They said that my clothes needed mending, and that’s why I’m wearing this.” Kim ruffled the shapeless garment. “Not too cool, huh?”
“Don’t worry, Princess, Club Banana will be waiting for when you get out.” Dear Heaven, when might that be?
“I love you.”
“I love you too, baby, with all of my heart.”
“Shego… there’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” Kim looked slightly more focused, more aware than from seconds ago. Shego had already been standing right up against the glass, now she pressed both hands against it. Kim moved to mirror her stance, hands matching on either side.
“Yes, Kimmie, there is. You need to be here while these people figure out what’s making you sick.” Oh, Lord, why can’t I just turn off whatever part of my brain that gives a damn? I used to be able to, back when we fought.
“They’ll take care of you, make you better.”
“I have weird thoughts in here.” The girl pointed to her head. “Bad ones, too. They make me sad.” As quick as that, she was less focused, talking as if she were a lost child.
“I want you.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“I want my girls. Please take me home.” Kim sat there, forlorn, not even using the ‘pout’. It was as if something had been removed from her, something vital.
“I can’t, baby.” Dismay raked icy claws across Shego’s heart. As much as she wanted to take Kim in her arms and hold her, she fought to not turn and bolt from this white room of life and death.
“Rufus!”
Kim’s face lit up as if a switch had been thrown, shocking her lover so badly that she almost tripped over the stool behind her. Confused and fearful that her Princess was either hallucinating or having a fit, Shego was about to call out for assistance when she noticed the naked mole rat perched on the narrow ledge where the glass wall rose from the shorter tiled wall. His tiny limbs were spayed as he embraced the glass and his eyes were closed tightly with the pleasure of seeing his beloved Kim.
“Hey, buddy! How’re you doing? You Ok? How about Ron?”
“s’al good!”
The little creature nodded eagerly, even taking a few bites at the glass. Shego watched as Kim mugged and played with the animal, frightened by the mercurial speed at which her wife’s mental state could change.
Behind her, Shego heard the door open but could not tear herself away from the sight of the addled girl.
“She will play with the creature for hours if you let her. Why don’t you come away from there and join me; the briefing is getting ready to start.”
Dr. Betty Director spoke discretely so as not to distract Kim. Hearing the woman but not acknowledging her, the raven-haired warrior moved back to the glass.
“Kimmie?”
“Hm? Oh, Hi, Shego!” It was as if the last few minutes hadn’t occurred. Kim had been watching Rufus run back and forth across the ledge.
“Baby, I’ll be back to see you in a little while.”
“Sure! That’d be great. Bring the girls, Ok?”
“Maybe, I will.” Shego felt her resolve breaking. “Drink some of that stuff in the tumbler, will you. It will make you feel better.”
“Yuck! It’s gross. Can you bring me something from Bueno Nacho? The food here is really boring.” Even with the setting and conditions making her feel horribly uncomfortable, Shego leaned even closer and whispered conspiratorially to Kim through the glass.
“I’ll break in later and we’ll have a picnic, but you finish all of that stuff first, Ok?”
“Spank’n!” Kim pressed her face against the glass, giving it another kiss. Well aware that the Executive Director of Global Justice was waiting behind her in the shadows, Shego returned the kiss, her full lips with their black gloss just grazing the surface.
There was a mild shock, hardly more than a tingle. It caught Shego by surprise, but neither Kim nor the mole rat seemed to feel anything. What the Hell?
“Please, let’s join the briefing. Kimberly will be fine. I promise that the animal won’t be removed.”
Shego backed away from the glass, her young wife once again absorbed in the antics of a small naked mole rat. While their uniforms, training and life experiences were drastically different, the two women each held a stoic bearing as they left the room. The bright corridor outside might as well have been on the other side of the world.
“You know, you really have the whole ‘Nick Fury’ thing going on, don’t you?”
Dr. Direct chose to ignore this.
“Kimberly’s mother and brothers have already been shown to the conference room, as has Ronald. Her father is waiting for us, and once we’re all there we can get started.” Passing the now empty waiting room, they joined John and the three of them looked somewhat like a very small funeral procession as they navigated the hallways.
As they rounded a corner and approached the door to the conference room, both John and Shego were surprised at who was being escorted towards them from the opposite direction. The man was wearing a bright yellow jumpsuit with matching sneakers; only the wrist and leg shackles contrasted with the ensemble.
Two ‘GJ’ agents flanked him and his skin was blue.
“Drakken!”
“Drew?”
“Hello, John.” The blue man glanced from his former college friend to his former aide-de-camp. “Shego, you’re looking well. Motherhood suits you.”
“Drakken, I swear that if you’ve …” Already moving, Dr. Director had expected something like this to happen; she intercepted the charging woman, placing herself in the line of danger.
“No, Shego, control yourself! He’s here to help!”
BAM!
Both women turned and stared in amazement as Dr. Mr. John Possible, the most gentle and controlled man that either woman had ever encountered, walked forward and bodily lifted and slammed Drew Lipsky back against the corridor wall so hard that the nearest light bulb flickered.
“Drew, I swear that if you had ANYTHING to do with this, I’ll kill you.”
“Fair enough, John. How is Anne by the way? I haven’t made one of our class reunions in years.”
There was nothing taunting or snide about Drakken’s comments, in fact his eyes looked tired and his body limp between the arms of his ‘GJ’ escorts. One of the burly agents retained his grip on the man while the other moved to ward off John.
“Sir, please, this man is in the custody of Global Justice and we feel that he is integral to the treatment of your daughter.” Drew Lipsky was lead around the newcomers and through the door of the conference room.
“Please release him. He truly is here to help.” The placard on his uniform read ‘Hedges’.
“Don’t worry, he isn’t going anywhere and can’t hurt anybody.” This man’s name was apparently ‘Benson’ and his grip on Drakken was none too gentle as the men were separated.
“Get him inside, now.” Dr. Director waved her subordinates into the room and followed them, leaving a startled Shego sharing the empty corridor with a shaken Dr. Possible.
“Uh, sir?
The tall man didn’t reply; he was staring at the broad expanse of empty wall as if it were a mural, just full of hidden meaning that he was failing to grasp.
“John?”
“I’ve never done that before. I’ve never threatened or attacked anyone like that before.”
“How did it feel?” Shego was on unknown ground right now.
“Revolting. I’ve always believed that violence was never the right answer. I’ve taught that to my children.” He looked at his hands. “It’s how I want to live my life.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Dr. Mr. P, but violence actually does solve a lot of problems. Kimmie and I used to fight several times a month, once upon a time.” She saw the man shaking his head, his eyes closed.
“No, no, that in itself isn’t violence. People who complain too often about ‘violence’ don’t truly understand the meaning of the word. My Kimmie-cub is an excellent fighter, but she isn’t violent.”
Shego would have to agree, with the possible exception of a certain incident when Kim kicked her into an antenna; that fit her definition of the word, but now was not the time to mention that particular example.
“I’m violent.” How would he respond to that, knowing what he did about her past?
“You are capable of violence, beyond that I will not judge you.” John seemed to have regained his composure through this philosophical discussion. “But let me ask you this; in regards to your own children, how would you feel about their potential capacity towards violence?”
“Let’s just say that your daughter has been a ‘bad’ influence on me. While I don’t want our girls to ever throw the first punch in a schoolyard brawl, I do want them to throw the last one.”
John finally turned to face her; he looked worn and desperate, but he looked like himself again.
“Shall we join them?” Together they entered the room.
The room was designed for debriefings and lectures; the tiered rows of seats with their small writing ledges and the broad expanse of view screen reminded everyone of their time spend in school. Anne was seated in the third row back with the boys at her side. Ron moved to let John sit next to his wife, and Shego sat next to him with Ron taking the seat along the aisle. Dr. Director herself was arranging a few items on a table beside the lectern and Drakken was standing beside the podium. Agents Benson and Hedges were seated before the blue man, directly in front of him and in the first row, in case he needed to be assisted with his presentation or subdued.
Kim’s parents and brothers were too preoccupied with her illness to do more than anticipate the news they were about to hear; Shego and Ron were anxious also, but they were also inspecting the condition of her former employer and his current foe.
Drew Lipsky could have been a sales window mannequin for all of the attention he was paying to the others. Shego noticed that he looked much healthier than when she’d last seen him just a week or so ago, and he was apparently receiving regular meals and medical care, but something was lacking. Shego had never seen him like this before.
First, there was the vacant stare. Drakken was looking all around him, both at everything and at nothing, as if nothing were able to hold his attention. Second was how he moved, or rather his lack of motion; his eyes would occasionally shift, but his body stood ramrod straight and there was no motion of any sort until he was touched and lead. The third difference was his voice; it was dead and flat. The raven-haired woman could remember rants that would last for hours, but his speech thus far was precise and very, very deliberate.
The lights were left turned up and Dr. Director approached the podium.
“Please excuse any perceptions of melodrama, but in a sense this is a history lesson so where better to present the facts but in a classroom. I have very little to say and the briefing will be conducted by Dr. Lipsky for lack of anyone else that can speak intelligently on the matter.”
John possible tightened his hands on the armrests of his seat, both Anne and Shego keeping an eye on him just in case.
Drakken looked as he were waiting for a bus; he neither moved nor spoke until Betty Director walked back across the stage and angrily whispered something in his ear.
His first words were puzzling to all present except one.
“Donovan.”
If it had not been for Shego’s reaction, no one would have guessed to whom he was speaking. Her green eyes flashed wide with shock and her mouth gaped, but she took no action except to slowly shake her head at him in negation.
While this word was loaded with special meaning between Drakken and Shego, it had no direct bearing on her Princess, so she lowered her eyes as the others looked to her for an explanation. Drakken kept staring at her, waiting.
“Hmm. Interesting…”
Drakken turned his back briefly; when he faced them again, a little of the old fire shone in his glassy stare and a little more conviction in his voice.
“Everything that you are about to hear is the culmination of many years of research. Although my presence here would support the theory that I am to blame for this incident, I am guiltless.” He grinned. “For once.”
The projector came to life and displayed an overly lit image of a deep pit with a pile of shattered machinery at the bottom. As much as the restraints would allow him, Drakken began to pace back and forth, lecturing.
“Several days ago, as I was delving into the science of broadcast power, I was visited by Kim Possible. While I do not recall much of the encounter, I understand that she was ultimately buried under my prototype when it landed on top of her after a significant fall.”
There was a gasp from Anne; otherwise the older Possibles remained silent. The boys were a little more enthusiastic.
“And she survived? Way…”
“… to go, Sis!”
“No.” Drakken was being deliberate, not gentle, with his information. “No, she did not survive; or rather she was alive for a brief period after the impact and burial but was too injured to have survived for long.”
The slide changed.
“Kim Possible survived long enough to become exposed to the contents of this canister.” The cylinder was rusty and partially smashed, apparently by the fallen machinery.
“This is the cause of our current dilemma. Its creation can be traced to one of the major world powers, although there is such a strong possibility that it was stolen from one and passed on to another that it is impossible to determine the exact origins.”
The image changed again, this time to a close up of some writing stenciled on the side of the canister. Among the various codes and labels was the word ‘HAVOK’.
“In all of the few sources I could locate, the substance inside is always referred to as ‘Havok’, incorrect spelling and all. I eventually gave up attempting to discern if there was any special meaning in the word itself, as it is not an anagram nor does it identify the chemical make up of the substance. It was during a raid upon an abandoned military facility that I first came across the initial documentation and the sample itself.”
The next slide was of a clear sealed beaker filled with a black tarry material.
“This is ‘Havok’; it is a viscous fluid that can remain dormant for an indefinite period of time and becomes inert when exposed to the outside air for more than a few seconds. Had Kimberly not practically landed right on top of the container, she would be dead today.” Drakken stopped and stared off into space.
“Dr. Lipsky, please continue.”
“Again, I repeat that the exact origin of its creation is a mystery; I would return to my research on this material for weeks at a time, eventually giving up in disgust and move on to other things. I really wish that I could have harnessed its secrets.” He smiled when he noticed movement from his audience; Shego had raised a hand.
“Yes? I see that we have a question?”
“Why don’t I know anything about this?”
“Because it predates our time together my dear, just as that warehouse lair was from a period before I began to hire henchmen or sidekicks. I would return to the problem, and then drop it for a while. That canister had been sitting at the bottom of that shaft for more than twenty years.”
“So it was developed in the 1980’s?”
“No, Anne, its existence seems to date back several decades, even as far back as the Second World War.” Drakken hadn’t even turned to face her. “The most popular rumor is that it was created as a serum to bolster the strength and endurance of soldiers for the American war effort. Since only one successful experiment is hinted at, I cannot lend credence to this origin.” The blue man continued.
“Another rumor is that it was derived from an alien retrovirus that was lying dormant in certain species of tubers, designed to promote drastic evolutionary enhancements, but that the Earth’s soil lacks enough of a certain element to allow it to survive. Yet another is that the substance was distilled from the blood of a mythical beast found living as a sideshow freak in a traveling circus in New York State, but has since escaped and was last spotted in the New Jersey Pine Barrens.”
Only the scar under his left eye gave his face any definition when he spoke.
“Still another story has it originating as a microbe collected from the upper atmosphere; a semi-organic form of life that had both a cellular and crystalline structure.”
“Drew, get to the point. What is happening to our daughter?”
“Yes, thank you, John. It’s not as easy for me to focus these days and I tend to ramble. Anne, you might be able to make more sense of this than I, considering your medical background.” The slide behind him changed again, displaying a photograph of several documents, seemingly the biological telemetry of animal test subjects.
“The purpose of ‘Havok’ is essentially to build a better warrior. Considering the odd mixture of resilience and frailty in the human form, the plan was to expound upon the inherent and latent potential of the subjects own abilities, in effect bringing out in them the maximum level of performance they are capable of.”
Drakken ambled over to the table of reference materials and glanced down at a particular document.
“Ah, yes, this was a phrase that I came across frequently; ‘100 percent, all of the time’. To be sure, this takes an amazing toll on the bodily resources of the exposed subject, and after frequent use of their new abilities the subject will become ravenously hungry.”
“Uh, but why is KP acting so confused?”
“Very astute question Ronald. Oh, don’t look so surprised; of course I know your name.” He cleared his throat.
“The effects of ‘Havok’ are twofold; the first affects the body and the second affects the mind. Let us address the physical changes first.” The slide changed to a digitized representation of a human body, with certain systems clearly marked.
“Once exposure occurs, usually by means of intravenous injection, or through little Kimberly’s wounds, as was the case here, the subject begins to experience specific changes over the next few hours. Their speed and dexterity increase to almost superhuman levels and fatigue poisons are neutralized, allowing for unlimited endurance and the continued use of their full strength for an indefinite period of time.”
“That explains the monkey bars, and when she ran after that mugger that day we were at the park…”
“What’s that, Shego?” Anne’s question was asked for all of them.
“Nothing, just… I saw a little of what Drakken is talking about the morning after our mission.” She felt weak. “I swear that I had no idea.”
“We know, dear. It’s Ok.”
“May I continue?”
“…bastard…”
“Ronald, language.”
“Sorry, Mr. Dr. P.”
The blue man waited for the interaction to end.
“In addition, Kimberly would experience a heightening of her senses; all five would begin to operate at the maximum level of human potential, and more to the point her brain would begin to collate the incoming data faster. She would sense and know things on an instinctual level, rather than rely on the limits of her conscious mind.”
He cleared his throat.
“May I please have some tea? I’m getting quite parched.” It took a nod from Dr. Director before Agent Hedges left the room. The prisoner smiled at his captors.
“Furthermore, to her everyone else would seem to be moving and thinking slower, as her new perceptions of the world around her give her a skewed awareness of the passage of time.” Hedges returned and Drakken paused to take a sip from the beverage being held for him by the Agent, the restraints not allowing the prisoner the freedom of motion to handle the cup himself.
“Now let me tell you about the most dramatic effect.” The slide changed to display the same representation of the human body, but this time with different systems highlighted.
“As ‘Havok’ spreads throughout the body, a startling thing occurs; as cells die naturally they are replaced with simulacrums derived from the very substance of the ‘Havok’ material. No new cells are created, so the subject’s entire body is slowly being replaced by artificial cells.” The blue man spoke with awe in his voice.
“Injury and damage to normal tissues speed up that process, but the subject finds that they recover from even the most traumatic injuries within seconds and that their pain receptors cease to function normally. Entire limbs are reformed instantly and even the most drastic head injuries fail to debilitate the subject.” He glanced away.
“Or so I understand.” He cadged another sip of tea from Agent Hedges.
“But the very chimerical nature of ‘Havok’ is what causes the most harm. As cells and tissues are being replaced, the subject experiences chronic organ failure as the two disparate materials, the organic cells and the quasi-organic ‘Havok’, fail to interact properly. It is after a major system or organ failure that the most obvious symptom of exposure becomes evident.”
The projector displayed a slide with a recent photograph of Mr. Dr. Hall, holding what looked like a pair of olive drab cargo pants. The pants were coated with glossy black stains; Ron covered his face as he recognized the outfit that Kim was wearing when ‘GJ’ took them into custody in South America. Shego felt the shock of enlightenment as cascading images of filthy sheets and pillowcases, frequent baths and scores of missing towels flowed through her mind.
“In the various records and documents that I was able to unearth, this substance it called ‘pitch’. That is what Kimberly is secreting from every orifice. ‘Pitch’ is a mixture of dead tissue, excess ‘Havok’ material and fatigue poisons. While quite nasty, the secretions are minor at first, but are eventually constant.” He paused to let the impact of his words sink in.
“Now let us address Ronald’s question on how ‘Havok’ affects the mind.” A digital representation of the brain appeared on the screen behind him.
“As the ‘Havok’ substance begins to infiltrate the brain, the subject experiences some memory loss and also dramatic mood swings. At first this manifests as intense joy or sorrow, but later becomes more pronounced as the subject shifts from one emotion to another with no warning, leading to episodes of extreme mania or depression. One other interesting facet is that the subject can no longer fall asleep…”
“…”
Drakken turned to face his former sidekick.
“What was that, Shego? Please speak up so that all may hear you.”
“She had a nightmare the other day, the morning after the accident.”
“I would venture to say that she hasn’t slept since. The lack of sleep contributes to the erosion of the subject’s mental state, leading to paranoia, fits of bestial rage and eventually a psychotic breakdown.”
“Damn you!” Anne’s voice was harsh and startled her sons with its ferocity.
John only had to remain silent to agree; Shego just felt empty.
“Now, Anne, please do not kill the messenger. I am not the cause of this and there is no reason for me not to want to help. A world without Kim Possible scarcely bears thinking about.” He cocked his head to the table laden with documents.
“If there is any part of this information that you do not believe, please consult the good Dr. Director; although their research is not as complete as mine, they can at least corroborate most of what I’ve told you.”
Dr. Director stood to face her guests.
“This is true. Bureaucracy is best suited to hide things from other bureaucrats; there were some details regarding ‘Havok’ in our archives, but they were mostly viewed as the stuff of legend.” Drakken nodded at her and smiled, as if were a teacher showing pride over a prize pupil.
“In conclusion, this is one of the most dramatic failures of science and humanity that I have ever seen.”
“Hey, you said that ‘Havok’ is unstable and that KP’s body couldn’t function once too many cells are replaced, right?”
“That is correct; it mimics life but is not alive itself.”
“So what happens to KP when she gets to that point?”
Drakken stepped forward to answer, but Dr. Director interrupted his reply.
“That is why we must continue to work on a cure, Ronald. We have our full med-tech staff giving it their undivided attention.”
The projector presented one final image.
“Oh, Lord, no…Kimmie…”
“Dear GOD, John…!”
“Ewww! Mom, Dad…”
… what’s wrong with that guy?”
“Boy’s please look away.” John glared at Drakken as he gripped his wife’s hand. “Please close your eyes.”
Still facing them, Dr. Betty Director was confused as to what they were reacting to. When she turned around to look at the new image on the screen, the blood froze in her veins. It was the body of a man, or most of one; large portions of his body were composed of black gelatinous matter that was apparently dissolving into viscous pools.
“Oh, dear. I was so certain that I had removed that slide before we started. I am terribly sorry that you had to see that.” Even though Drakken’s restraints prohibited him from raising his hands in a shrug of apology, he somehow managed to look contrite.
“Well, at least now you know what the latter stage looks like. Be assured that this is not the alleged success story I mentioned.”
“Dr. Lipsky, I know for a fact that we removed that slide.”
“Oops.”
Dr. Director returned her attention to her horrified guests in an attempt to reassure them; she knew that she had no chance of that. The briefing was concluded and the Possible family was escorted back to the vehicle that brought them. Shego offered to take Ron back to his house and she promised to be at the Possible home in a few hours.
Before she left, Shego secured an ironclad promise that she would be allowed to return and visit her wife, regardless of legal status or if a member of the family was accompanying her. Something had been nagging at her ever since her first visit to the medical ward; that mild shock that she had received when she kissed the glass was important, but she had to figure out why. Shego had a suspicion, and she needed time to think, time to plan.
In short order, the conference room was emptied of all but Drakken and the three representatives of Global Justice.
“Thank you and good night. I’m here all week and for the rest of my life. Don’t forget to tip your waitresses.”
“Is this not what you’ve always dreamed of? The death of Kim Possible?”
“Well, yes, but at my hand. This way is stupid; she might as well have been hit by a car while crossing the street.” Drakken was not smiling; there was no humor in his statement, not even to himself.
“Why didn’t you let me tell them the truth?”
“They should be left with some hope.”
“Woman, there is no hope. There never was any chance of curing her. Her death sentence was written the moment that she was infected; after a few more days she will succumb to dissolution.”
She fought to maintain her militant bearing and did not reply.
“I’ve never been asked to give so long a eulogy.” The blue man spoke without inflection. “What did you think?”
“Damn you, man!” She whirled to face him. “I had to give them some degree of hope, even as I prepared them for the worst.”
“Hope is a bitch, a whore that will promise more than it will ever deliver.” Drakken sighed, shaking his head. He turned to Hedges. “Return me to my cell. I am tired. I will sleep.”
Dr. Betty Director was not a woman to lose hope so easily, regardless of the odds.
“What is it that keeps you alive if you have so little regard for hope?”
Agent Hedges stopped at the door, expecting his charge to reply; Drakken was halfway through the door as if he had not even heard the question. He was out in the hallway before he turned around and walked back into the room, Dr. Director having already assumed that he had chosen to ignore her.
“Right now, these restraints are keeping me alive.” He shrugged to make the manacles rattle. “If not for them, I would have killed myself days ago.” There was no idle motion about the man; when he moved, it was for a specific reason and nothing more. There was no movement or shifting of his weight or anything except for his steady breathing and facial expressions when he spoke.
“I never took you for the suicidal type, Drakken. Is your life now so terrible?”
“Woman, you have taken over my brain. The medications that you have been forcing into me have slowed my thoughts, made me unfocused.” There was a brief flash of fury across his features, and then the apathy returned. “It’s like walking through molasses, and peering through a dirty window. My thoughts used to be as quick and powerful as lightning, now…”
“It’s called sanity, and I suggest that you get used to it.” No longer wanting to see the man, her nemesis in so many ways, Dr. Director nodded to Hedges and the agent made to lead the prisoner away.
One last thing puzzled her.
“Drakken, what was that comment that you made to Shego? ‘Donovan’, I believe it was.” There was a dry chuckle from the hallway; he’d already walked back out of the room and apparently didn’t want to see her again either.
“That was my old signal to Shego that my mind was being tampered with, or that my thought processes were being altered, much like you are doing to me now. It was a coded instruction for her to kill me.” There was a pause of several seconds. “I see that I was wrong about her; motherhood has made her weak.”
The uniformed woman remained in the conference room long after she had ordered the lights to be turned off.
To Be Continued…
Author’s Notes:
Dr. Mark Hall and Dr. Karen Hall (formerly Nurse Karen Anson), both share an interesting note on their resumes; they served on the Wildfire Project during the outbreak of ‘The Andromeda Strain’, from the film based on the novel by Michael Crichton (used without permission).
When I wrote “Hello, John” from when the Possibles and Shego encounter Drakken at ‘GJ’, I had the weirdest Farscape vibe! It was purely unintentional! In his uber-sane state, Drakken is reminiscent to me of Scorpius and Hannibal Lecter (without the cannibalism) so that is how he’ll be written from now on.
I really gave ‘Havok’ a lot of careful thought, so I hope that it stands up to scrutiny; please remember that I have no medical or scientific training, just a sick mind.
‘Havok’ is an original concept of my own creation as far as I’m aware, though the various rumors as to its origins were borrowed from several different sources. See if you can identify them!
Finally, while there is (hopefully) no such think as ‘Havok’, the idea of the black ‘pitch’ secretions was derived from an ACTUAL SYMPTOM that I witnessed from someone dear to me, now deceased. It was horrible and maybe this is how I’m expressing grief.