Here's the third (and final) part... was made by Finny on 4/17/2003 at 1:15:33 AM. It was made in response to Continued... posted by Finny on 4/17/2003 at 1:14:15 AM.
The next day, Starcross was still standing. This surprised a number of newschannel pundits, who’d been sure that this whole thing was a trick of some kind. In fact, the dinner had ended uneventfully, with the city council saying they’d think about the trade agreement offer, and Courtney and Wang exchanging an awkward hug before she went home. The night had been quiet, as well, except for a brief flurry of UFO sightings--actually a jumbo-sized LairJet, which had been designed for interstellar travel, so it could house quite a few people. They occasionally used it when they needed a home away from home.
It was currently parked at the Bonough farm; the Bonoughs had gone out of their way to offer them a place to stay, as they were “Loyal Americans, not like that Statelis girl”. Finny had accepted reluctantly. Amanda Statelis, with Wang’s ship in her proverbial backyard, had been getting both prank and threatening phone calls. Wang had kindly informed the local police about this, using his advanced communications technology to track the callers. This led to embarrassed twelve-year-olds, and indignant adults who thought that the police should agree with them.
By eight-forty-five, it was surprisingly warm. A ring of sleek white clouds wrapped around the entirety of the horizon, with a dome of empty sky capping off Starcross. Birds could be heard, but not seen. The town was a bit busier than usual, what with all their sudden guests…many of which had congregated just outside 365 Oak Lane.
The street had actually been blocked off, to make room for the media. It looked like a firing range for cameramen: They were lined up, all pointing the same direction, with news-correspondents directly in front of them. Today’s big story was Wang’s new love interest, and endless speculation about her, when in fact they knew little more than her name, age, and address.
Inside the house, curtains were briefly peeked through. “Well, somebody’s famous. You need to warn me when you do stuff like this, I almost walked right in front of this window with nothing but a towel around my waist…” The now-clothed Amy was wearing a black skirt, a black leather jacket, and a horribly-wrinkled dark blue t-shirt. For once in her life, she’d actually put more than thirty seconds of effort into her red hair, as she was sure she’d be on TV at some point today.
Courtney was sitting on the stairs, putting off her morning walk to work. With so much happening, she’d only had time to throw something on--bluejeans and a white t-shirt with high sleeves. She looked at their grandfather clock. “They aren’t leaving, I’m gonna have to wade through the crowd…”
“Well, if not for the fact that you have five inches and two bra sizes on me, I’d just put on a black wig and hope they don’t notice that you suddenly turned pale.” Amy’d been hoping to get a laugh from that, but none came. “So, uh...you think you shouldn’t have gone out with him, because of all this?”
She smiled. “No, he seems like a pretty nice guy. He gave me a little communicator-thingie and said I could call him whenever, and maybe we could have dinner again…”
“Are you going to?”
“Why not? He’s interesting, he didn’t treat me like a sex object…and he is kinda cute…”
The phone rang--reporters had been calling all morning. Amy walked over and looked at the call-screening box.
“It’s your boss.” She tossed the cordless to Courtney.
“Hi, Ken. Well, it’s--yeah. No, I can come in today…”
Amy whispered, “I’m not on until the afternoon shift, so if you don’t want to be stuck here by yourself…!”
Courtney shushed her. “No, that’s just Amy.” She sighed, and droned, “Yes, the one that made a pass at you at the Christmas party.”
Amy’s jaw dropped, and she mouthed, “That was him?”
“Look, it’s not like--exactly. Uh, but I may be a little late, because I’ve been sitting here talking and--okay.” She heard someone on the front porch. “Wait, I think somebody’s at the door, I should go…yeah, I’ll seeya.” She quickly got up and peeked out a sliver of a rectangular window, right next to the door. “Hey, it’s Clint.”
She opened the door, and Clint--better known as Sheriff Monroe--tipped his black cowboy hat to her. He wore a tan-and-dark-brown police uniform, with a gun obtrusively holstered at his side. “You want a ride to work? Thought you might wanna skip all this craziness out here…”
“God, yes,” Courtney said. She turned around and looked at Amy. “Lunch?”
“Lunch,” Amy nodded. “Same Gino-time, same Gino-channel.”
Courtney went outside, closed the door, and was immediately surrounded by the circus…
-------------------
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Several blocks away, a dark blue (and unmarked) Buick Regal was parked outside a currently-unoccupied house. Behind tinted windows, two CIA agents sat next to each other. One was just folding up a cel phone and putting it in his black suit’s inside pocket. “No, they said it--we can’t go near the girl.”
“Why?”
“For one thing, if they’re gonna do the trade agreement, we can’t be getting on his bad side. This deal could be worth billions, so we have to treat him with--and I quote--‘the utmost respect’.” He snorted derisively. “Besides, we know he’s monitoring the Statelis woman and making sure she’s okay, so it stands to reason that if he’s watching her, he’s watching--”
“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, there’s obviously something going on here, he has to be up to more than he’s saying…”
“If he really is into her, and we tried to grab her and interrogate her…don’t be stupid, man. He’d blow us away. And I don’t just mean us-us, I mean maybe America-us. This guy takes over planets for breakfast, we’re just one more tiny pointless country to him. And in case you haven’t noticed, the LL is doing overflies, so we have to be on our best behavior, or else--”
“You don’t have to remind me, I don’t want to be the next Polichek.”
Agent Polichek had been conducting a standard “walk and talk” (where the agent led a possible suspect away from a public setting, and then extracted information) when something had jumped him. He woke up in the hospital a few days later, and by then, his “civil rights violations” were front-page news; and the people he’d been trying to bring down had already been brought down by an unknown party. Polichek was fired, sued by the person he’d tried to shake down, and subsequently blacklisted throughout the law-enforcement community. He was now drinking more, and some suspected he was doing more than just drinking…his wife had left him in the middle of his civil trial. He’d occasionally show up at his old office, all anxious and shaky, begging his buddies for work, and generally warning everyone about “messing with the capes”.
“So what’re we supposed to do, if we can’t even talk to her?”
“Officially? We keep our distance and observe. Unofficially? If we can think of a way around the problem, we can go for it.”
“Huh.” A beat passed, as traffic went by. “Got any ideas?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nope.”
“I do!” Hoki exclaimed from the back seat, causing both of them to nearly jump out of their socks…
------------------------
“Thank God you’re here.”
On the inside, First National Bank looked like most First National Banks--glass doors, blue, silver-specked carpeting, white walls, a few desks for financial counselors, and a long teller’s counter. The only thing setting it apart was the fact that treasure was literally laid all over the floor, in flimsy cardboard boxes.
The bank’s president, a Mr. Russ, looked like he’d just been dropped out of the sky by a tornado: His clothes were rumpled, his hair was sticking up everywhere, and he looked shell-shocked. He’d actually been there all night, as he was afraid to leave the treasure alone. He was attempting to explain what had happened to Goldeneyed, Sheriff Monroe (who had just dropped off Courtney), and a shaved-head National Guard lieutenant in typical green camos.
“--so the thing was, what were they supposed to do with Wang’s gifts? Of course, they took it to their banks…except small-town bank vaults aren’t really that big. Our own vault was built to hold money and paper, but big jewels and works of art and like that? No, no…look, our security system isn’t that good. It can hold out regular robbers, but with all this stuff we have now, we’re an easy target for your--whatever you call them. Your supercriminals…”
The lieutenant said, “We can station some people outside. Because of the, well, the panic about the ship, we called in units all the way from Savannah, and at least for now, it doesn’t look like we’ll be needing them, so we can spare enough for sentry duty.”
“We can keep an eye out too,” Goldeneyed assured him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I mean, Wang is the one that gave the gifts, and I can’t see any criminal being brave enough to cross him by trying to steal ‘em…”
“You being here isn’t gonna make a robbery magically not happen, Jeff,” Sheriff Monroe said. “And you know what the doctors said about your heart. Go home to Ann, get some sleep, and let us professionals worry about it. We have everything under cont--”
Appropriately, just then, a black-orange plume erupted on the town’s eastern horizon, visible through the bank’s glass doors…
---------------------------
If one were to stand on top of the temporal warship, no natural ground could be seen; just the surface of the ship. It looked like a monotone city, with structures and complexes rising up, stretching for many miles. And all around them, a battle was underway. It had actually begun inside, but the intruder had quickly gotten out of the close quarters, leaving the same way he’d gotten in.
Wang’s elite security droids had been the first to respond: They were huge black constructs, with oversized guns for arms, and dome-shaped heads. Each had a dark purple, t-shaped faceplate. With the scanners and sensors behind those faceplates, it took them less than a second to lock onto their target.
He was completely covered in navy blue metallic cloth of some kind. His eyes, hands, and feet glowed with a neon blue, and the mask’s lenses were small and triangular. The man crouched in a controlled fashion, measuring his movements carefully. He was still in the same position when they opened fire.
A number of purple beams crisscrossed through him, but he was no longer there--it was just an afterimage. His entire being strobed as he jumped, twisting into a perfect kicking form. A glowing foot hit one of the droids, and despite its heavy armoring, it exploded on impact.
He landed on his hands, and pushed off, sailing through the air. While doing that, he swiped at one of their faceplates, reducing its head to ash. The robot stumbled, but it didn’t fall--its CPU was deep within its body. Though it was surely suicidal to stand, unmoving, in front of the robot, the man did it anyway…he made a strange finger-pattern with his hand, waved it around the robot’s chest, stopped, and closed his fist. The droid began to topple. Before it hit the ground, he’d sliced off the feet of another one, using the neon blue energy emanating from his fists.
Some of Wang’s human troops arrived, with light armoring and energy rifles. They were torn into a second later, bursts of blood and shattered weapons blossoming into the air around them. They never had the chance to see what hit them.
The man ducked behind one of the remaining droids, and other droids fired at him, hitting their compatriot instead. Briefly cloaked by smoke and debris, he surveyed the battlefield--helicopters and superheroes were on the horizon, and he could sense that more droids and troops were coming. It was time to cut out…he’d have to take another shot at hacking into the database, later on.
The smoke cleared, and just like that, he was gone. He’d vanished from the screens of the droids and those inside the ship.
Underneath the mask, Paul Drossen--leader of SHAG, secretly a Skree alien--tried to be upset, but couldn’t manage it. This was as close as he’d gotten to solving the mystery of himself, and it felt great…
---------------
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Ten minutes later, Wang and Fin Fang Foom stood amidst burning heaps of technology. Hovering orb-shaped fire-drones were zipping around, putting out blazes as they went. Finny’s arms were crossed, and he didn’t look like he was buying Wang’s explanation.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I have a lot of enemies,” Wang said casually. He was enjoying his role as a formal, intellectual conqueror, and he seemed to be in an unbreakable good mood. “You know how it is being an influential superhuman, people constantly try to kill us…it’s just a fact of life.”
“And you’re sure it’s about what you’ve done in the past? Not what you’re doing now?”
“I’m not doing anything now. Just trying to establish some trade relationships…”
“Uh-huh.”
Wang shrugged off Finny’s disbelief, like this was a truly minor event. Tongue-in-cheek to a seriously annoying point, he said, “By the way, how do I know it wasn’t one of your friends that attacked my ship? If anyone in this timeline has a motive to be angry at me, it’s you people, for the unfortunate pregnancy-gun incident…”
-----------------------
“This gives new meaning to the term ‘deal of the century’.”
Several of Starcross’ government branches were housed in the old Washington elementary school, which had been closed down years ago, when the town’s population shrunk. This included the city council…their “office” was Mrs. Fabbernath’s old sixth grade classroom, complete with a gaudy tiled floor and faded yellow cinderblock-like walls. Two short tables were lined up in the middle of the room, surrounded by folding chairs. For once, every member of the city council had shown up for a meeting. Spread out on the tables were papers, which could turn Starcross into an extremely wealthy place.
At the head of the class was Richard Lewis, an accountant who occasionally did work for the city. He had lopsided brown hair, and wore stiff jeans with a cowboy shirt tucked into them, complete with belt-buckle.
“You have t’understand…trade agreements’re usually proportional. States make ‘em with other states, countries with other countries…we’re talkin’ ‘bout similar sizes, here. But a--I don’t even know what to call it. A freakin’ other-reality empire and a tiny town? They’re getting shafted, and we’re getting everything.”
Questions bubbled up from the council, mostly variations of “What do you mean?”
“Look, trade agreements are…Wang’s empire can produce a whole lot’a goods, okay? They’ve got factories and a huge workforce and all that stuff. We can’t produce that many goods. And with this trade agreement, the deal is that we give each other a percentage of our goods…so they get however many percent of our little amount, and we get the same percent of their huge amount. We’re talkin’ hundreds of millions, or maybe billions. I don’t know if this guy is crazy or what, but long as he’s offering you this deal, you gotta take it.”
----------------------
In Eastline’s office--which was surrounded by the media, but they weren’t allowed to go in--Courtney slammed the door to Ken’s office, and stalked over to the spare computer, which she usually used for data entry. She just sat there and glared at the screen, unmoving.
The only other person in currently in the office pool was Shirley; the others were all out showing houses, or getting houses ready to be shown. Shirley definitely had a motherly look to her: She was now in her late forties, her long, plain-styled brown hair slowly fading, and she wore conservative, almost frumpy clothes. She always looked energetic, as she loved getting away from the house…she’d had three spoiled and helpless people to take care of. Two were her sons, who were now off at college, and the other was her now-retired husband, who frequently called her, complaining about how he didn’t know how to use the microwave, or how he didn’t want to have to make his own sandwiches.
She walked over to Courtney. “What happened in there?”
“You don’t want to get me churned up again,” Courtney said, half-choking and half-laughing.
“C’mon, it’s just us. Hit me.”
“Well…Ken got a call from the district supervisor, who got a call from the CEO, who got a call from a higher-up in B&M Holdings--Eastline’s owners--who, of course, got a call from the President. And the message he wanted to pass along to me? Unofficially, the federal government wants me to be ‘nice’ to Wang, since this trade agreement thing is a big deal.”
“You don’t mean--”
“No, no, not like that…but they didn’t exactly rule that out, either. They want me to show him around and stuff, like they do with foreign diplomats.” She growled quietly. “I just hate that it’s turned into a spectacle, it’s what I’ve always tried to avoid…”
Because of your father, Shirley thought, and decided not to say. “Y’know, with all this happening, it proves something I’ve always thought.”
“Oh yeah?” Courtney looked eager to change the subject--or to at least focus on another part of it.
“A lot of girls dream about being swept off their feet by someone rich and powerful…but the ones who don’t care about that stuff? They seem to be the ones that it actually happens to.”
“I guess so. I mean, that stuff doesn’t matter to me, but…”
“Exactly. Besides--if the government wants you to show him around, it gives you a good excuse to call him, right?”
“Yeah, but…I don’t know if I should tell him that. I don’t want him to think I’m only seeing him for ‘official’ reasons.” She sighed. “This was supposed to be simple, but it’s all getting complicated…I know I want to go out with him again, but other than that, I have no idea what to do.”
---------------------
On the outskirts of Starcross, nestled in an unusually-dense patch of forest, was a closed-down restaurant. It had been built decades ago, when it was believed that the town would expand in this direction…it hadn’t. It was country-style in terms of both food and décor, with a rugged-looking exterior, and lots of earth tones inside. No other buildings were around for miles; just an empty parking lot adjacent to the restaurant.
For the first time in years, people were inside it. Hoki--her hair tied in long pigtails, with white pants and a blue shirt--was sitting in a chair that she’d just rescued from underneath a plastic sheet. Rigidly standing nearby were the two CIA MIBs, who looked strangely identical.
With a know-it-all grin on her face, she said, “Okay, stop me if I’m wrong--but I’m hardly ever wrong, so keep that in mind. I’m guessing that you guys think Wang is a national security risk or whatever you call it, and you’d love to pull a Kennedy on him, but there’s two problems. First, he’d kick your butts, and second, the industrial half of your little military-industrial complex is looking at him with cash-colored glasses. So, your hands are tied--and not in the fun way. You have to play nice ‘cause he can make your country some money, but you want to get rid of him. That’s close enough, right?”
They said nothing, so she assumed she was dead-on.
“Well, newsflash--I want him off Earth, too. And yes, I have my own reasons, and no, I’m not telling. But let’s just say, the sooner that he and I are off somewhere else, alone but together, the easier my life’ll be, mmkay?”
“What exactly are you proposing?”
“Pooling our resources. You take care of my problem, which I can’t be caught doing…and I take care of your problem, which you can’t be caught doing. Simple as that.”
---------------------
Soldor had learned to put up with a lot. As Wang’s executive advisor, he’d slowly figured out how to deal with the man’s fluctuations. At times, Wang was extremely interested in all the work he had to do; but at other times, you had to beg him to do the simplest, most mundane of tasks. The truth was, he’d become a conqueror largely by accident, and he just wasn’t cut out for it. Oh, he had the abilities--he was arguably a supergenius, he’d learned how to fight and lead--but he was just going through the motions. His heart certainly wasn’t in it. Anyone who discovered limitless time-travel first could have built the same empire.
And it absolutely drove Soldor crazy. He was a gaunt, tall, grey-skinned alien, who usually wore blood-red robes, and he was from a culture that placed a high value on what they called “cocooning”. Starting off as one (usually unimportant) thing and making yourself into something else, all influential and essential. Soldor had been working his whole life to do that, while Wang had stumbled into it. And most of the time, he acted like he didn’t even care, like he didn’t see how lucky he was…
Soldor paced nervously in his residence, surrounded by trophies and medals, and other signs of his achievements. He was convinced that he was the only one that really cared. For instance, some of their elite droids had just been decimated, like they were worthless cannon fodder…except no 21st century superhuman should be able to do that. It had to be a more advanced being from the future. But did it bother Wang? Of course not, he was too busy worrying about his next date with that nobody…
Still, even that had its good side.
A door-alert sounded, and he glanced at the screen--it was Tyson. He hit a button, and the door slid open. Tyson was a blonde, Nordic-looking human, in blue-and-black fatigues. He served as Wang’s military advisor, and he wasn’t one to be patient. “Well? Why did you want to meet with me?”
“I changed my mind about the girl,” Soldor shrugged. “Have you seen him today?”
“Yeah, he seems pretty happy.”
“He’s also a lot less…resistant, than usual. He’s been going along with all of my suggestions, doing everything without complaining. And he has a lot more energy.”
“I noticed that, too.”
“I admit, I thought she’d have a bad effect on him--but him being distracted and mind-numbingly happy isn’t that bad, for us. I think that if they get together, they’ll spend the vast majority of their time with each other, and he’ll more or less leave us in charge.”
“You really think so?”
“Absolutely. All we have to do is change our talking points--we argue for her, not against her.”
“Even assuming we do that…” Tyson shook his head. “I don’t know, you know how he is when things actually take work--pretty low tolerance for frustration. That’s what his crime-binges are about, right? What if things get rough, and he lashes out even worse than before?”
“Simple: We don’t let that happen.”
“But what about Hoki? He seemed pretty grateful to her, after she helped him ask out the girl…”
“Hoki,” Soldor snarled, remembering the illusion-number she’d done on him, “Can be dealt with.”
------------------------
“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Goldeneyed told Finny. “We looked all over town, but we didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. If Wang is here for some secret reason, it has nothing to do with Starcross.”
They were both in the war-room of the huge LairJet, still parked on the hillside overlooking the Bonoughs’ farm. On the surface, it was almost identical to their war-room back at the mansion, with lots of viewscreens and computer interfaces. Most of the rest of the LL, and their friends, were elsewhere on the jet.
Finny said, “No, this is the part where you tell me that you found out what Wang’s really up to, because this whole thing is just a sham…”
“Um…well, as far as we can tell, he’s just here to see the girl.”
“That’s it? That’s his big motive? Huh.” Finny looked like he honestly hadn’t considered that as a good reason for Wang to be doing all this. “We still have someone watching her, right? To make sure he doesn’t kidnap her or anything?”
“Yeah, Ziles is keeping tabs on her…along with the media and half the intelligence community.”
“That’s always fun.”
They simultaneously noticed one of the viewscreens, which was showing a newschannel…it was one of those every-fifteen-minutes updates, which looked more like a movie trailer than news. G-Eyed hit a button, they both sat down, and the blonde anchor went live.
“--future prosperity of Starcross, and arguably America and the world, may hinge on what happens with Courtney Zusten. Hello, America--I’m Kate Blanchard, and this is TBC. Here are the headlines: Just hours ago, Wang’s ship was attacked by unknown forces.” The picture switched to a far-off shot of smoke coming from the ship. “At this point, there are rumors of superhuman involvement, but nothing has been confirmed. The US government and the Lair Legion both denied any involvement, though Wang made it clear that he isn’t ruling out any possibilities.”
Wang appeared on the screen, surrounded by microphones. “Do I know who it was? No, no I don’t…but we’re doing everything in our power to find out, and we aren’t going to ignore any viable suspects.”
Back to Kate. “There’s been a new development in the trade agreement situation--anonymous sources claim that the Starcross city council is close to deciding what they’re going to do. Jeff Colburn is just outside the city council’s headquarters, at the old Washington elementary school building. What’s the impression you’re getting, Jeff?”
“The impression I’m getting from the people I’ve talked to, is that the council has reached a decision, but they’re waiting to clear it with higher government branches. Whichever way the vote went, this is obviously something with a lot of ramifications, so there’s a lot of red tape to cut through on both state and national levels. But things are moving forward, and the situation could change at any moment…”
“Thanks, Jeff--we’ll go more in-depth with you later. All morning long, our economic analysts have been describing the trade agreement as ‘charity’. This means that Wang is going out of his way to be generous to Starcross…and many suspect that he’s doing it because of her.”
A little “Recorded Earlier” message suddenly popped up, as they flashed back to an interview with a black woman in a dusty red blouse. “This isn’t just about what happens with Starcross--there’s a lot at stake for everyone. If things work out there, Wang might consider extending the agreement to all of America, or even the whole world…but it all depends on what Courtney does.”
Back to Kate, who looked a bit surprised, like she expected that clip to be something else. Without missing a beat, she asked, “But what is Courtney doing? We have Amanda Ackerman outside of Eastline Real Estate, where Courtney works…Amanda, what’s the mood there? How would you characterize their relationship, at this point?”
“Hi, Kate. We still aren’t allowed to go inside, so the mood is tough to tell--but looking through the windows, it’s clear that she’s trying to act as if this was a normal day. As for what’s going on between them…we’ve received confirmation that she knows of his interest in her, so the ball is clearly in her court; it’s up to her to decide how to react. However, there’s been speculation that she has a way to contact him, if she wants another date. For all we know, this could have happened already…we’re hoping to get a statement from her when she goes to lunch.”
“Thanks, Amanda--we’ll be keeping an eye on that situation.” They went to a new camera, which Kate turned towards. “And in Starcross itself, the whole town is on the edge of its seat, waiting to see what happens next. Will they become a multiversal port city? Will Starcross be the first place on Earth to have an exchange of goods and culture from another world, or another dimension? But not everyone wants it to happen--outside the Statelis farm, the current location of Wang’s ship, the National Guard and local law enforcement had to be called in to stop citizens from trespassing on Amanda Statelis’ property, which they claim is their way of protesting what’s going on…”
They showed video of some angry men having a shoving match with cops; and then, one of the men--with a bruise on his cheek--being interviewed. “This just isn’t right, we don’t need even more, uh, even more outside influences screwing everything up…”
Back to Kate, again. “But there’s also opposition from more surprising groups--anti-globalism organizations, who have claimed that American influence has overwhelmed foreign culture, now claim that the Multiverse may have the same effect.”
Another flashback to a previous interview, with a twentysomething man: “We aren’t being xenophobic, and we completely support diversity, but if we go through with this, there could be a massive influx of new social customs. There are lots of endangered cultures out there that barely survived the Westernizing of their societies, and I don’t think they could cope with this…”
Kate asked, “And the question on the mind of the entire world? Who, exactly, is Courtney Zusten? We’ve talked to her old classmates and friends, and we’ve learned some surprising--”
A voice from behind Finny and G-Eyed: “The Lair Legion, hard at work watching TV. That’s wonderful.”
The Chronicler stood there, sceptre in hand. Finny got up from his seat, and said, “We’re kinda stuck waiting, since--”
“While you’ve been babysitting Wang, I’ve been looking for numerological, social, and other patterns that have recently popped up, that might help us find the center of the Parodyverse. I hope that’s still a priority with you.”
“It is--it’s just that this Starcross thing is a little more immediate.”
“Mm.” The Chronicler picked up a copy of the Starcross Daily, a flimsy little excuse for a newspaper, which was sitting on the war-room table. He mumbled “Let’s see what all the excitement is about”, and looked at the lower half of the front page, which was all about Courtney.
“So, what kind of patterns are we talking about here?” Finny asked.
The Chronicler spoke while reading. “The center expresses itself in subtle ways, through both nature and events…underlying themes, and clues in the background. Remember, this isn’t the physical center--it’s the ideological one. The one that the Parodyverse uses as an anchor-point. I’ve noticed some new patterns, but I haven’t been able to tie them to anything, yet.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a superhero,” Goldeneyed said. “Secrets everywhere, complex identities, perpetual conflict, lots of weirdness…yeah, that sounds like the Parodyverse. What do you think, Chron?”
“Chron” didn’t respond. He literally dropped the newspaper, apparently no longer caring what was in it. Finny recognized the “Just figured it out” expression on his face, and asked “What is it?”
“It all fits. The numbers, the trends, the philosophies…I know what the center is.”
“Do you need me to split the team up, so you can have some people to--”
“No,” The Chronicler said. “It’s right here.”
------------------------
Gino’s Pizza--one of three pizza places in Starcross, the other two being franchises--had been doing surprisingly well, for this time of year. Usually, when things started warming up, people ate less hot food…but the restaurant had made more in the past day and a half than it usually did in a month. This was largely because of all the media people that had showed up; and the abundance of law enforcement personnel factored in, as well. But at the moment, it was a little too early for the regular lunch crowd, so they only had two people eating there.
Courtney and Amy sat in a windowless booth that was on the other side of a divider, waiting for their food. They’d picked that spot because the media had surrounded the building, and were busy peeking in windows. The pizzeria itself looked odd, with a grey-and-white checkered floor, and Americana covering the walls; everything from James Dean posters to ancient baseball cards.
Courtney was uncharacteristically saying nothing, and nervously fiddling with a laminated menu card, which had a picture of King Kong on the back. Amy had been trying to figure out an angle for how to talk about all this, and eventually, she found it. “So, this is a new experience for you.”
Looking at her like she’d just said the most obvious thing in the world, Courtney commented, “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“No, I mean…it used to be all about RickyZusten, and now it’s all about you.” Whenever referring to Courtney’s father, Amy said his name like it was one word--and she’d always say it quickly and mysteriously. RickyZusten the town legend, RickyZusten was only spoken of in secretive tones. “I know you don’t like to talk about it, but come on…until yesterday, you couldn’t get away from the crap he pulled. People would look at you and remember it. Now, it’s been replaced by all this. I can’t read your mind or anything, but I don’t think you’re used to attention that actually has to do with you.”
“The reporters aren’t here because of me--they’re here because of Wang.”
“…who, in turn, is here because of you.”
Courtney made a vaguely unhappy noise, and settled back in her seat.
“So all this really is about you, so I’m technically right.”
“Amy…”
“I’m just saying!”
Talking more to herself than to Amy, Courtney said, “I don’t know when to call him. Should I do it now, or wait until after work? What kind of a schedule does a guy like that have?”
“Some guys don’t like it when we call the next day--they think we’re clingy or something. Other guys love it, because they don’t have to go through the whole emotional thing of wondering if we’re interested or not.”
“So, your answer is…”
“…it depends on the guy.”
Courtney said “Great”, and sounded anything but.
“Look, forget all the other crap. Do you like him?”
“I think so, yeah. I mean, we still haven’t gotten to talk that much…”
“Well, he obviously likes you.” Amy activated her world-wise “Turn on your brain, girlfriend” tone of voice. “Not only did he come all this way, but he’s doing a, a major diplomatic mission just to have an excuse to be in the same town as you. Now, from where I’m sitting, that’s pretty good. I mean, most of the time? If I’m not within ten feet, and if there’s another girl around, guys don’t even bother looking at me. So in terms of effort and interest, he gets an A+.”
Courtney’s mood seemed to pick up. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m not trying to sound down on this whole thing--except for having cameras jammed in my face and my lovelife discussed on national TV, I’m actually pretty happy about it. Not only did I meet a guy who might be boyfriend material, but, like you said, the stuff about Ricky doesn’t seem to big now. Two things I’ve always wanted in two days, that’s kinda awesome…”
A bell rang out, as the front door opened. Amy craned her neck to see who was coming in, and cursed, wide-eyed.
“What? Is it Peter Jennings?”
Fin Fang Foom and Dancer walked over, and she said, “We have some weird news for you…”
----------------------
Ten minutes later--ten minutes of Courtney listening, and occasionally saying “Uh-huh”, “Yeah”, and “Okay”--she said, “I’m sorry, but that’s just crazy.”
“It really is true,” Finny stated quietly. He was sitting next to Amy, while Dancer had slid in on the opposite side. He’d made sure to bring Dancer, as she had a knack for making people feel comfortable and relaxed. “As weird as it sounds, you’re the center of the universe. This universe, anyway.”
Courtney shook her head calmly and measuredly, like it was an aerobic exercise. As she spoke, her voice became more hyper, more emotionally-charged. “No, I’ve met people who thought they were the center of the universe. Some of them--well, some of them are just convinced that they’re God’s gift to fill-in-the-blank. The worst ones think that everything that happens has to do with them, somehow. And some of them treat people like crap, but are hot or good in bed, so they can get away with it, and they get it in their head that they must be perfect--”
“I know, but--”
“--and I’m not any of that. I’m not important. I admit that, okay? I’m just not.” Courtney’s voice was getting more strained, and her eyes were starting to look glassy. “Haven’t you heard? Go ask around Starcross, and they’ll tell you. I’m nothing but a footnote to a scandal: ‘Oh, and he had a little kid who saw the whole thing’.”
Finny stared blankly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
All the energy she’d been buidling up suddenly vanished. A look of relief washed over her. “Really? Um, wow.” After living in Starcross for quite a few years, and being surrounded by people who could retell the events of her early life in great detail, she’d forgotten what being unknown like. Courtney was apparently moving faster than sound, as everything she’d said was just now catching up with her. Suddenly self-aware, she whispered, “I’m really, really sorry. I’m just in freaking-out mode.”
“I know. It’s okay,” Dancer said. “It has to be a hard idea to get used to.”
“I don’t know how to feel. Should I be happy about this? Scared? What?” She looked at Finny. “Is--is it a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I honestly don’t know. We need to do more research…but other people and things have been the center of the universe before, and from everything I know, it didn’t hurt them.”
She seemed to be regaining her composure. “I just…I never planned for this. I was okay with the trade-off I made. I gave up college and a shot at a big job so I could help Grandma Glenda--the woman who raised me--like she helped me, and it was worth it. God, it was more than worth it. But I honestly believed that I’d never be important, and I don’t know how to handle it…it’s just such a shock…”
Finny hated to say this now that she was calming down, but he had to. “One thing you have to consider…well, this might be the reason that Wang approached you. He might already know. It’s just a theory, and there’s no proof behind it, but…”
“Really? You think so?”
“I’m not sure.”
Courtney blinked. “My eyes feel puffy. I’m gonna go in the bathroom and clean up…”
Dancer asked her if she wanted some help.
“Sure.”
This left Finny and Amy alone, sitting on the same side of the booth. He suddenly felt extremely awkward. She turned towards him, smiling. “So, is it true? What they say about you?”
Reflexively: “I’m not gay.”
“I meant the other thing…”
-------------------------
Though Washington Elementary hadn’t been a school for years, it still had its playground. When it had been ordered to close down, they’d determined that removing and transporting the equipment to other playgrounds just wasn’t worth the cost. So, they added a red, wooden picnic table, a metal drum garbage can, and a sign that said “Tricorner Park”. Its slides and swingsets and jungle-gym were outdated, and in pretty bad shape, but the kids who lived far away from the (better) city park often used them. Tricorner Park was currently filled with reporters, curious citizens of Starcross, and a man standing on a tiny, easy-to-put-together stage that was usually used for the Fourth of July barbecue.
The man wore grey slacks and a white, black-striped shirt, and stood behind a flimsy podium. He gripped it like it was bound to take off at any moment. Below, a crowd--larger than any crowd he’d ever spoken to--was waiting, many of them aiming cameras at him. They’d weighed down the platform with microphones, and he was afraid the whole thing was going to tip forward…
“Good m--good afternoon. My name is Timothy Brenson, and I’m the current chairm--chairperson of the Starcross city council. As you know, the individual known as Wang the Conqueror approached us with a trade agreement, which would open up economic avenues between our town and his empire. After much thought and discussion, we--with the full approval of the federal government--have decided to accept his offer.”
There was an explosion of questions and flashbulbs. Over the din, phrases like “advanced technology” and “multiversal politics” could be heard.
“Wang has--Wang has agreed to help us build a landing-port which will act as sort of a harbor for ships carrying goods. As part of the terms we agreed upon, we’re allowed to sell these goods to the rest of America, and the world. Also, Starcross…well, let’s just say that Starcross will be having a lot of interesting new stores, and we’ll need people to work at them. Um, I have a picture of what the port will look like, but I couldn’t find an easel to put it on, so…”
He reached below the podium and unrolled a pencil-sketch. It was a series of five thin, cylinder-shaped towers, interconnected with skywalks of some kind. Looking at it from above, the structure had a tower at each corner, and one in the center, which was taller than the rest.
“It looks small here, but it’ll be really, really big. Really. And ships will hook up to these parts here, way up in the air…”
More questions erupted, and he said he’d take one at a time. He pointed at one of the reporters.
“Is this the beginning of a political alliance between America and Wang’s empire?”
“Um, I can’t--I can’t really comment on that. I’m only operating on a local level.”
“What are you giving Wang in return for all this?”
“Mostly agricultural products, actually, which should really help the farmers and ranchers out here, in terms of finances. We’ve placed orders with them to grow a lot of new food, which we’ll be using in the trade agreement. Because of how this is set up, they’ll be getting paid more than usual.”
“Why give our resources to someone else, when our own world’s population clearly isn’t getting enough as it is?”
“Well, uh, in return, we’re getting a lot of food, among other things. I mean, it’s weird stuff, but it’s still food. I’ve had some of it myself, and it’s really good. So we’re actually helping with world hunger, because for every few hundred bushels of wheat we give him, he gives us a hundred thousand bushels of this weird wheat that grows in the future, and it’s alien or otherdimensional or something...”
“How integral was Courtney Zusten to all this? Could you have done it without her?”
“No, absolutely not. I mean, I’ve never actually met her, but she’s clearly the--well, the motivation for this.” He cleared his throat, and seemed to remember something. “We’ll be having a celebration on Wang’s ship, tonight, to…um, celebrate this new agreement, which is a major turning point in human history…”
-------------------------------
At some point, the Chronicler of Stories asked Finny if he was surprised that a relatively young woman was the center of the universe. “Not really. The idea that one person is all-important, that they embody everything good about life…well, I always thought that was kinda the point of the L-word, actually.”
But he never would have admitted to saying it.
--------------------------------
Courtney hadn’t actually said anything, since getting back from lunch. Oh, she automatically responded to questions, and expressed information about files she’d sorted and data she’d entered, but she hadn’t really said anything at all. Her co-workers disagreed as to if she was in denial, or if she just had a lot to think about.
Her mood was contagious: Before long, the Eastline office was drowning in thick silence. Not only was everyone working quietly and alone, but the phones had stopped ringing, and no clients came in…it was as if Starcross itself recognized that she needed to be left alone, right now. If two people absolutely had to talk, they did it in hushed, rushed whispers, relatively far away from Courtney.
But they were all watching her, and she knew it. They were searching for cracks. The people in her office were doing it because they were worried about her, but everyone else…even though most of the world couldn’t actually see her right now (except for the dozens of media people looking through Eastline’s front windows), they were watching her, too. She’d heard about the trade agreement being approved, and she figured they were waiting for the other shoe to drop…for something to go wrong, to screw up this great new future that was planned for Starcross.
For all the general public knew, the town could be one bad date away from being abandoned by Wang. And if anything did go wrong, she was sure that they’d blame her, whether it was her fault or not. She remembered how quickly the town had turned on her mother, when she obviously wasn’t responsible for what happened. Or, alternately, she could turn into her father…screwing up on a majestic scale, her flaws on display in the middle of Starcross, so parents could warn their children not to turn out like that Courtney Zusten…
She was only sure of one thing: She liked him. And she was willing to go through all of this insanity if it meant getting a boyfriend that really understood her and cared about her. Courtney figured that, so long as she could hold onto the fact that she liked him, she could make it. She could get past the doubt about him only being interested in her because she was the center of the universe.
But she hadn’t counted on even more doubt.
Towards the end of the afternoon, a UPS man casually walked in, thick manila envelope in hand. “Ms. Zusten?”
She signed for it, and she couldn’t help noticing that his face just didn’t go with that kind of uniform. Something about him didn’t match up….
As he left, Courtney sat down in one of the wooden, felt-seated chairs that were pushed up against the wall, in case clients actually had to wait to see their agent. The envelope came open easily enough. She shook out a small stack of papers, and looked at the one on top.
Everyone was pretending to work while watching her out of the corner of their eye, wondering what it was, how she was going to react…
She dispassionately scanned the first few pages, like she was wading through mind-numbing paperwork. Then, in a prim and proper manner, she shuffled the papers back into order and put them in the envelope. She stood up, straightened her jeans, and headed for Ken Anderson’s office.
Courtney didn’t go all the way in. She knocked on the doorjamb, and, quietly, asked if she could take the rest of the day off. Ken’s answer was a jumble of “Uh, yeah, sure, like I said, you only had to come in today if you really--I mean, go right ahead.”
She grabbed her tiny purse off its hook on the wall (just like she’d done yesterday, when she’d heard sirens and laughed about them, writing them off as nothing, because nothing ever happens in Starcross) and walked out the door, into the crowd of media personnel.
Only one thing was on her mind: She had to see Wang. She had to see him now.
--------------------------
Soldor--Wang’s advisor, still fantasizing about getting his revenge on Hoki--was an expert at making a nuisance of himself. His specific area of expertise was micro-managing…he constantly checked in with all the different branches of Wang’s organization, making sure they were on-track. He hoped that, if he was annoying enough, they’d get so sick of him that they’d go out of their way to be perfect, so he wouldn’t come around as often. He sometimes thought his style was too much…and then he took one look at a screen from ten minutes ago and nearly killed someone.
In the information analysis department, surveillance of Courtney Zusten was still going on, for security purposes. It wasn’t complete--Wang didn’t want them to invade her privacy, so they had no audio, and could only use infrared when she was changing clothes or in the bathroom--but they had hoverdrones watching her office, among other places. And a recent screen-capture had sent Soldor into a fit...
The UPS man was someone they’d seen before. He was, he was, Soldor babbled and tried to remember what it was called, one of those stupid abbreviations that 21st century Earth was so fond of, and he could never keep track of them all…
“CIA!”
His mind raced: Courtney had borrowed Amy’s car, and was on her way to the Statelis farm. The CIA (why them?) had given her some papers (information?) and she had to be on her way to see Wang. But what did they say? There was no way he could get a look at them before she got there, unless he sent someone to grab them…but Wang was watching this operation extremely closely, and he’d never allow her to be treated like that. Besides, Wang wanted to play by the rules, to get to know her normally; he’d tried to avoid using his information-gathering capabilities to find out more about her.
But Soldor knew those rules could turn against him at any second. The envelope sitting on the passenger seat was a wildcard, and he hated wildcards…
----------------------
Invisible and in an alley near Eastline, Ziles empathically communicated, “Hoki’s made her move. I don’t think she knows that we know. What next?”
“Hang tight,” Finny told her, from the LairJet. “Courtney has a better chance of getting information out of him than we do…so we let it play out. We only step in if she gets in trouble.”
“What about the information?” Ziles had sensed what it was, while keeping tabs on Courtney.
“It’s pretty obvious how Hoki’s planning to use it…but ever since we found out about what she’s up to, I’ve had a contingency ready…”
-------------------------
Changing out of the so-ugly-he-hated-it UPS uniform, the CIA agent hopped on one foot while trying to talk into a cel phone. “We made good on our end of the deal--now it’s your turn.”
-------------------------
A roomful of bored SHAG agents were utilizing one of the many satellites they had access to. They kept waiting for an alien to leave Wang’s ship, but none had, yet. Standing in back, Paul Drossen secretly smiled. He saw Courtney in a car, racing down a country road, towards the ship. It was the distraction he’d been hoping for…he excused himself, and said he needed to get a few hours of sleep…
------------------------
Courtney was strangling the steering wheel, trying not to think about the fact that there was a parade of newsvans behind her. She felt like she was at the front end of an unstoppable comet, with a huge dirt trail behind her, added to by all their tires. People and perceptions and responsibilities were raging within her mind. She hadn’t felt like this since her first time in 365 Oak Lane, when her father had screwed up all of their lives…she just knew that she was at a crossroads. A flashpoint. She couldn’t avoid it.
Something important was going to happen here, and it wasn’t just going to be important for her…
--------------------------
Wang paced the Great Hall, snug in its darkness. For the first time in his life, he felt complete--like he had a direction. An actual goal that mattered to him. Being a so-called conqueror was just him playing along with the hand that life had dealt him, but this…
He was absolutely sure that his fate was sealed. Despite the fact that they’d only been on one date, despite the fact that they’d never so much as kissed, he knew that their being together was inevitable.
Though it ended up lasting less than a day, it had been a good feeling.
Just below his skin, something crawled through his nerve endings, making his sense of touch scrunch up and retreat. It was like in the ninja movies when they know that they aren’t alone, that someone is behind them…except it wasn’t a clean sensation; it was the tactical equivalent of sour.
Whoever they were (Wang’s back was still to them), they stepped onto the dance floor, activating the starlight ball. Sheets of the universe were projected onto the walls, floor, and ceiling, and they began spinning around the room.
Wang turned, entering the dance floor in the process.
Courtney stood facing him, at the opposite end of the floor. The star-like dots of light were zipping around the room, rhythmically illuminating her. It made her look like she was on an old movie screen, as her image was constantly flickering.
She said nothing, and this gave him a terror he’d never known.
Because of the darkness, the floor couldn’t be seen. It was like they were hovering in the exact center of everything, with all of reality frantically orbiting around them, and a wrong step could cause them to fall into nothingness…
Though he didn’t see her move, a large envelope was suddenly slid across the floor, from her to him. It moved like it had a surprising bit of weight to it, and stopped at his feet.
Her aura of silence--which had been building up for hours--finally shattered. “Tell me if it’s true.”
He picked it up delicately, like he was handling a live explosive. Inside was a government document of some kind, which seemed to be about him. After looking at just the first line, he knew his life was over.
“It’s war,” he said quietly. “It’s complicated.”
“But all those people died because of you. All those innocent people. Non-combatants.”
His voice remained subdued. “You’d find the same kind of list for any leader. But since I operate on a larger scale, my list is larger. I try to avoid civilian deaths whenever I can, but even with all my technology, war isn’t an exact science.”
“You made it sound like you only used force in self-defense! You said you weren’t a conqueror, but those papers say you take over whole timelines just because you want to…”
“Sometimes you just have to attack first.”
“Look, I don’t care why you’re doing it, killing innocent people--accidentally or not--is something I don’t want to be part of.” She paused. “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I’m the center.”
He just stood there.
“The center of the universe.”
“…what?”
“Is that why you’re doing all this?!”
“Why do you think--? No, no, I didn’t know…”
“This isn’t some scam or something?”
“Of course not!”
“You lied to me! You lied to me about how you work, and if this is all a trick, if you’ve been manipulating me the whole time, and this was all for nothing…if you did that, I never want to see you again.”
Neither of them said anything. On some level of Wang’s mind, a realization set in…she’d been a “safe” girl to pursue. Though he loved her and respected her, she was technically lower, in terms of the social hierarchy. As opposed to women closer to his own status, he’d always believed that she’d be honored that someone like him would be interested in someone like her. He believed this not out of arrogance, but out of insecurity. His power gave him a little advantage, and he needed all the help he could get. But if she was the center of the universe…she was better than him. She was too good for him. She’d always been, really.
Courtney was about to plead with him not to punish Earth for this, not to cancel the trade agreement--though she knew it was stupid to even try, why should he be nice to her after this?--when he began walking, crossing the stars for her.
Wang lowered himself to one knee, and took her hand. He thought of a dozen different ways to phrase it, and finally said, “You’re right.”
And in this grand moment, all Courtney could do was stupidly blurt out “What?”
“No more. No more war to expand my empire. From now on, I’ll only use my resources to free others…and I’ll perfect a form of war where no innocents die. It has to be possible, somehow. I’m going to do this to prove myself to you…to prove that I’m not the man you think I am. But whether you accept me or reject me, my mission will remain the same.”
“You--you shouldn’t be doing this for me. You should be doing it for you. You should do it because it’s the right thing to do.”
The dramatic tone vanished from his voice, and he pressed his masked cheek against the back of her hand. “Please say you want me to do it. Please don’t hate me. Oh, God, please don’t hate me. I’ll do anything, I swear, just don’t…”
She suddenly stopped looking at it as if it were a grand overture to accomplish an impossible task in the name of love, and saw that it was a naïve, awkward guy who found out that the girl of his dreams didn’t like something, so he was going to do the opposite. Her anger vanished.
“Just say the word. Say the word and I’ll launch a million ships to do all that cheesy stuff I just said.”
She then said something, but, a second later, she couldn’t remember what it was.
However, he was smiling, so it must have been a “yes” of some kind. He was about to say something when Hoki teleported into the room…
---------------
“You. Little. Moron.”
Hoki was wide-eyed with fury, and her face had twisted into the picture of utter contempt. She took out the starlight ball with an energy blast of some kind, and the lights came on. Then, she launched into a speech…
“Hello!? Did you see what just happened here?? She treated you like crap and you rewarded her for it! She told you to screw off, and you’re gonna use that as inspiration for your selfless garbage crusade!”
Wang said, “I don’t--”
“Shut up! Look, I’m sorry,” Hoki lied, “But I’m saying this for your own good: She hurt you. You have to know that. You can’t be that dumb. You need somebody who’s gonna look out for you, not somebody who expects you to do all this mountain-moving with no s--with nothing in return…”
To Wang, the thought was unthinkable. He couldn’t feel anger against her. In his mind, she was holy, she was perfect, he could never live with himself if he even entertained the idea that she’d hurt him in any way--and even if she did, he must have deserved it. But until a little while ago, he’d been sure that they’d be together forever, and now they might never be together at all, and he was suddenly feeling a lot less sure about things, and Hoki did kind of make sense…
In the middle of Wang’s wavering, Soldor came running into the room, followed by Fin Fang Foom, Sorceress, Goldeneyed, and Dancer. Hoki was thrown off by the sudden appearance of the heroes, and she didn’t get a chance to go for the kill with her speech.
Soldor looked like he’d just discovered a roomful of presents for him. “My lord! Look at this, my lord!” A holoscreen popped into existence, and it showed Hoki’s meeting with the CIA agents, complete with audio. There was a little “Lair Legion” logo in the corner of the screen.
Hoki only got out “Oh, f--” before Wang shot her in the head.
Despite her immortality, and a fair bit of invulnerability, she collapsed on the ground. Rainbow-colored blood flowed from the wound in her skull.
Wang stood there, arm rigidly pointing out, smoking gun in hand. His voice sounded more solid and genuine than it ever had before. “That’s what I do to people,” he said, “Now that I have my new standards. I won’t kill an enemy unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Hoki coughed, and her eyes rapid-blinked open. Her immortality kicked in, and the injury began to heal. But it was clear she wouldn’t be getting back up anytime soon.
Bored-sounding, he said, “If you ever cross me again, I’ll use the maximum setting. But I’ll settle for banishment, this time. Soldor?”
He nodded, and rays leapt out of the wall, making her vanish.
“I sent her to a dead universe. No-one there to manipulate, I’m afraid, and her teleporting power won’t help her escape.” He holstered his weapon, and turned to Finny. “I’m on your side now, in case you haven’t heard.”
Soldor looked at Wang like he’d just set himself on fire. Then they exchanged a glance, and he saw something in Wang’s eyes that had never been there, before. Sensing which way the wind was blowing, and realizing that the first person to support this could get serious brownie points, he said, “I think that’s a great thing, my lord.”
Wang sighed. “And about the guy that’s trying to steal our Skree military files--he’s on the thirty-second floor, in the backup data-storage room--please tell him that he can have a copy. But just this once.”
Courtney walked over to him. “I know we’re not…together, but, are we okay?”
“We’re okay.”
“I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings before.”
“Well, I was lying to you, and to myself, until you snapped me out of it.” He shrugged. “Anyway, like I said before…I’m gonna do this, and you aren’t under any pressure to do anything in response.”
“…well, um, that’s probably good. I think we both have a lot of new stuff to get used to, and once we’ve got a better handle on it…”
“Understood.”
No-one said anything. Goldeneyed coughed.
Then, Wang looked at his wrist (though he had no watch), and declared, “It’s just about time for the party to be starting! Starcross has got a trade agreement to be celebrating, I believe…we should clear out of here, so my people can set up.”
As they were leaving, Finny walked by Courtney, and whispered, “I think you just changed everything.”
-----------------------
Two Months Later…
-----------------------
In the mornings and early evenings, the center of the Parodyverse often went walking in Starcross. The axis that all reality leaned upon liked to wear purple lingerie and eat chocolate-chip ice cream.
Moving companies and architects were infesting the town like crazy, which had to be a good sign. In the background, high-tech spires could be seen rising, the framework of a future soon to come. Though not bordering a river or ocean, Starcross was destined to be one of the largest port cities on Earth.
Everyone understood that, if not for her--if not for learning how to put up with public pressure and erratic personalities because of her father, if not for Grandma Glenda teaching her to be kind and secure, if not for all the things that made Courtney, Courtney--all of this might not be happening. They knew this even more strongly because the information about her being the center eventually got out. But she didn’t really mind, anymore.
They often wondered what made her the center. Was it because she’d played such a big role in Starcross becoming what it was about to become? Was it because she’d inspired Wang to use his considerable forces for the good of all life? Those two things alone could have reality-changing side-effects, and she was still barely getting started with her life…maybe she was the center because of something she hadn’t even done, yet.
She’d changed, too, though she didn’t think of it as changing. It was just growth. For instance, the old Courtney would have been thrilled that her father’s legend had become a footnote to her own, but to the new Courtney, that was a silly childhood issue that was no longer relevant.
She still didn’t think of herself as important. She knew that Starcross was important, though…aside from the fact that it was mere months away from becoming the crossroads for everywhere, it was also a little model of destiny, and you could take it apart and see how it worked; how events triggered other events, and maybe that was a good thing to know about and remember…
Just like before, she got looks when she was out walking around. There were occasional whispers about the face (and, to be fair, the personality and body) that launched millions of ships and drove conquerors to their knees. Though she knew it was a cliché, her single moment of kindness to a then-average guy--something she didn’t even remember doing, now--had launched a domino effect that had borne a city and would soon change the world.
And so the pivot of the Parodyverse took a left on 3rd and Main, passing Amy’s occasional boyfriend Jake (if he was back, things had to have calmed down), and thought about how thankful she was that she’d made a new friend, who might turn out to be more…
--------------------------
The more Wang thought about it, the funnier it seemed. Stripping away all the weirdness, what happened to him wasn’t that unusual: He’d met a girl he thought he had a chance with, only to find out that she wasn’t just special to him; she was special to everyone. Unfortunately, in the process of realizing how amazing she was, he couldn’t avoid realizing how out-of-his-league she was. And, of course, he was now doing everything he could to become worthy of her.
Like many people, Wang the Conqueror suddenly found himself alone…and also like many people, he had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten there.
End
Doctors have come
From distant cities
Just to see me
Stand over my bed
Disbelieving what they’re seeing
They say I must be one of the wonders
Of God’s own creation
And as far as they see
They can offer no explanation