Crossover Earth '98
Blackened Honor
Spectrum slowly worked his way down the hallway, mop in hand, keeping the already perfect hallway clean. He’d been at this for months hoping that he’d pick up some useful tidbit of information. Spectrum had expected some high tech forcefield penetration device when Scarab said he could come up with a way to get in and out of the White House, not a mop and bucket disguise set. It really bugged him that with all he had to do he was spending so much time wiping floors for crisakes. Up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down. He sure was gaining respect for the men in blue while wasting his time. At least one nice thing came out of this whole exercise in futility, he had made a good friend! George Washington Smith was one of the most witty and sharp people he had met. With his intelligence Spectrum often wondered why he wasted his time doing maintenance, but he always said "I do what I love and I do it well. Hell, I’m the 1st Mechanic and that’s all the honor I need!" He’d never met ANYONE as a normal person before and it sure was nice to not have to worry about ulterior motives, to have a REAL relationship. As he was emptying the trash out of an office next to the office of the President's security chief, he can dimly overhead a conversation through the wall. His x-ray vision allowed him to see the pairs’ lips move and barely make out what was said. Because of the security his vision was about the only power he dared use without detection.
First man: "We need decisive action on the Mockery Brigade. We can't take the chance of them staging a successful raid and screwing up the whole operation."
Second man: "Don't worry. Quartz has a team of heroes assembled, and they've located the Mockery Brigade. We won't have to worry about them much longer."
First man: "Good! I'll be glad when we're through here and can get back home."
Second man: "Not long now. All Billy has to do is convince the nation he deserves to be impeached, and then we'll have Gore in office."
First man: "Too bad we didn't get here before Clinton screwed up. But then, Billy isn't very good at this sort of thing. Our Al is much better."
Second man: "It all works out. Once the teleportation scam is running, it'll all be over. Anyway, You better make the rounds."
At the sounds of the first man standing, Spectrum moved on and headed down the hallway.
With the Mayoral race in full swing he was VERY busy. Not only did he have to campaign, but he had long ago decided that the only way he had a chance of winning was to dig up dirt on some of the candidates. Fortunately these guys were far less protected than the President. As he slipped into the campaign headquarters of Pete Lark no-one looked twice, as to all eyes he appeared as none other than Sally Withers, spin doctor and confidant. The real Sally was supposed to be having lunch with a reporter friend, an opportunity Spectrum had helped set up, a lunch that would never happen. Poor Sally would probably be out for an hour or so as she waited for her friend at a lonely location selected for the reticence and memory problems of its inhabitants. It was a trivial exercise to alter his appearance using his honed disguise skills combined with his meta powers. Sally had been chosen for her similar build, not that Spectrum was effeminate, but there were ways to fake that kind of thing. What little deviance his disguise left he was able to correct with simple holographic touch ups. The real trick was to gather information without uttering a word. It was beyond his ability to accurately mimic Sally’s soprano voice. So he passed through the coworkers giving an occasional nod and entered Sally’s room. He was not the best reader, having just started learning, so he came equipped with a camera and photographed just about anything he could get his hands on. About mid-way through someone knocked at the door. He hurriedly stowed the papers and hoped that whoever it was would go away when no-one answered. But as the knob turned Spectrum almost kicked into invisibility mode by reflex, having locked the door before he started photographing. To his surprise Lark entered.
"Sally, I thought you would be away for a while. What happened with your meeting?"
Damn, he thought, producing a small croak in answer before Lark continued.
"Didn’t ‘Fred’ live up to your expectations?"
Was that his imagination or was there a hint of jealousy and innuendo?
"His loss, my gain." His eyes traveled over Spectrum’s body as he reached behind him and relocked the door.
Not another sleaze-ball, he thought. What he wouldn’t give for some honest embezzlement scandal! Spectrum REALLY did not like the way the guy looked at him. What was wrong with these Democrats ANYWAY? Were they all Kennedy clones? There was NO way he was going to let Lark kiss him and as he backed away a look of puzzlement and disappointment crossed Larks face and he ceased his advancing. The disappointment was replaced by hurt and his voice turned curt and businesslike as he said, "We’ll be having a meeting in about 15 minutes, I’d like it if you joined us."
Spectrum breathed a sigh of relief as the man turned and left. Perhaps he wasn’t just another sleaze-ball after all, but he had no doubt the man was cheating on his wife. Instead of attending the meeting he left the building with his ill-gotten gains, knowing that Sally was in for a really bad week.
Friday night, instead of the usual campaign beat, Spectrum decided to indulge himself as a reward for the successful political sabotage performed. Pot Roast with the Smiths, a delicacy given 5 stars by the patriarch of the family. Frankly, Spectrum’s usual fare would have shamed the Smiths had they known what their Pot Roast had to compete
against. Then again, knowing George, perhaps it wouldn’t. After some time spent chatting in the family room, they went into dinner. George had a daughter and 3 sons. George had raved about them all, as most parents will given half a chance, but what really surprised Spectrum was that they all seemed to inherit the Smith wit and charm. All the Smiths were a bit heavyset; none of them would normally be called attractive, but they made up in charisma what they lacked in looks. In spite of Spectrums usual bias towards beautiful women, and in spite of her moderate political leanings, he found himself strangely drawn. Margaret called herself a social conservative and a fiscal liberal and was quite eloquent in the defense of her views. For the first time Spectrum actually ENJOYED having a political discussion with someone who differed in views without having to ‘win’ the discussion. It was fortunate his political opponents were not as savvy. Wondering how the Smiths had reacted to the scandal, Spectrum introduced the subject.Spectrum: "How about that Lark! You being a social conservative, I’ll bet you’re going to have a hard time voting for him now."
Margaret: "You’re right, I was going to vote for him before I heard about his little indiscretion. I could have lived with his relationship with his aide if they hadn’t gotten an abortion. If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate..."
George: "Margaret, mind your manners. There are children at the table. It’s bad enough they have to hear about this stuff on the news, but I will NOT tolerate it at the table"
George Jr.: "Be real, dad. It’s a part of life nowadays and I’m old enough to..."
George: "Not a part of OUR life, not if I can help it. And YOU may be old enough, but remember that Cecil is only 8."
Cecil: "What’s an adoresion!"
Faye: "Eat your carrots, Cecil, and never-you-mind what an adoresion is!"
James, the middle son, seemed about to fill in the blanks when he caught a glancing blow from his mothers withering gaze and quickly thought better of it. But Spectrum was satisfied. None of the elder Smiths looked any too pleased with Lark. What he had learned by reading between the lines and using some additional illegal information gathering was that Pete and Sally had indeed been having an adulterous relationship and that Sally had had an abortion to cover it up. Lark was doomed. Unfortunately, the votes lost by Lark were not going to Lyle but to his republican competitor and Lyle was still running in a distant second place. He would have to arrange a visit to the Grange headquarters too.
Saturday morning found a bleary eyed Spectrum making his way through the maze of back alleys and so-called streets the locals called The Maze. Befitting his mood, he wore the disguise of a street bum waking up from a drunk. In spite of his headache, lack of sleep, and the pathetic state of his eyes, he was still a walking sensor array, all light absorbed and translated through each of his nerve endings. But his mood!! Somehow he had developed a nasty case of pink-eye, an extremely contagious malady that caused swelling, reddening, itchiness, and copious mucus production. It was not really painful or otherwise debilitating, and for a man that had no use for his eyes, hardly a reason to break from a demanding schedule. It did, however, offer an excuse to take a day off
from campaigning and get a few important things done. They all involved an old friend of the family. As he approached a more well maintained area, Spectrum underwent a transformation from bleary eyed street bum to the immaculate and inhumanly perfect Avatar of Truth. An oriental man who had been moving to intercept the bum and send him on his way also transformed, but he into a polite escort."We were not expecting you, Spectrum, but I am sure the Colonel will be happy to see you. "
"I’ll try not to take up too much of his time."
After the brusque words were said and Spectrum was handed off to another soldier, the sentry returned to his post. Again, with little said, he was soon delivered to the office of his old friend Colonel Tags.
"Spectrum, how nice to see you. I hope you are satisfied with the work done by Scarab. He left an newsgroup and code if you had problems or needed additional services."
"I have no complaints, at least for his performance. But I have to say I am a bit frustrated."
"Why?"
"For weeks I have been lurking around rummaging through trash cans without a decent bit of information. I figured that with all those ‘misplaced’ files the President keeps forgetting about, I’d be able to find at least one of them. Those damn liberals are slippery bastards. How they can keep their house of lies standing I’ll never know. What hurts the most is when I have to listen to some liberal pendant spew his filthy garbage and just stand there and not say a word. If I wasn’t one of the good guys, I’d fry the tongues right out of their mouths. Not to mention that the security in that place would spot me as soon as I so much as lit up a light bulb. I always thought I was a patient man, but this Janitor stuff is wearing a bit thin and getting me nowhere. "
"Well, if you ever need a little vacation from all that sneaking around and politics, there’s plenty of work out there for a meta-mercenary. Just let me know."
"Heck Sherman, you know I have plenty of money and simply no desire for a military life. Take that poor guy out on the street, playing sentry. Hours of meaningless waiting just to prepare him for the real thing."
"Sounds like what you were talking about," Colonel Sherman Tags said with a smile.
"PRECISELY! That is why I’m so frustrated. I hate this waiting which is why I’d make such a poor soldier. "
"Your father would..." His sentence was cut short by a warning gesture from Spectrum. The fact that Sherman knew about his secret ID was not something either of them wanted as public knowledge, but that did not stop Sherman from continuing. Either he felt that what he had to say was important or that the location was secure enough. "...have agreed with you on that, but he still made a damn great soldier. In fact compared to your father, you would be considered a f*&g paragon of patience. If he had been a more cautious man I wouldn’t be alive today, you know that."
"And he’d be alive."
There was a lingering silence before Spectrum spoke up again. "Why did dad do it then?"
"Like you, he was a man of honor. He believed in his country and the cause it chose to champion. In spite of your mothers protests, he insisted on joining the army when they called for volunteers."
"That’s not the way I remember him. He was always telling me ‘Never trust them bastards!’"
"That was after the war, son. A lot of the veterans, myself included, had a change of heart after that mess and the treatment we all received when we returned. Though Junior had it worse than most. If he hadn’t been out playing hero he wouldn’t have gotten a whiff of that weird green stuff. You know how sure he was that that stuff messed him up and made him blind. You only know how he was after the war. After he came home and you were conceived. I knew that man when he was a hero."
"I envy you that Sherman. It would have been nice to see him happy
.... But I came here for a reason. I have a number of jobs for you. First of all, I want a letter delivered directly to Old Glory. I have it here." Spectrum placed a sealed envelope on the Colonels desk. "Second, I want a meeting with the Mockery Brigade. Last, I would like to have a pair of government employees tailed. I’d hire a private investigator, but I figured your men could use the practice and the work, and these guys might be a little much for a Private Eye to handle. "He handed over a pair of pictures. "The first is Milton Howe, Security Chief for the White House. The second is Howe's assistant, Charles Xui. I think they’re up to something. Here’s a few grand to get you started. I have to go, life is pretty complicated right now. I’ll keep in touch."The two friends shook hands and Spectrum left, somehow renewed by the brief conversation.