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Once I got over my headache, and the massive bout of insecurity I felt when Tisiphone had confessed that she was learning from me, I found myself hovering over the arch again. Yes, I know anyone looking for me knows to go there by now. But habits are hard to break you know. Especially when all you have to do is think about it and you're there.

Besides, the view is awesome.

And if nothing is going wrong enough to grab my sense of 'Justice' it's actually very relaxing. Almost zen with the good feelings I get while here.

I'm protecting, defending, MY town. And people knowing I do that has really kept the deliberate violence people do to others to a minimum lately. Even the most hardened criminal in this city and the areas around it know that if they harm an innocent, someone is watching, and will make them pay.

That used to bother me, the way I would just swoop in and take my 'vengeance' while delivering old style justice.

But given the things I'd seen recently, the things I'd felt through my connections with Mitsuko, then Samira,
made the worst murderer or serial killer I'd run across seem like misbehaving children.

“Diana.” A voice intruded on my musings and I looked up to see who I'd felt approaching miles away.

“Hi Jean.” I greeted the Phoenix and again had to admire the beauty of her fire and form before she took her human guise. “What can I do for you tonight?”

“I just wanted to check in with you.” She settled her human shape, even if it was wreathed if fire, on the top of the arch. “And to let you know I think I found another place those bastards do this kind of thing.”

“Where?”

“Los Angeles.” She answered. “But the people they work on there leave looking the same as they did when they went in. I can sense the chips in them, but they don't act any differently than they did before those damned things were put into them.”

“Politicians, media people, business and tech leaders?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Slaves don't always look like slaves to people who don't know what to look for.” I sighed, then told her what I'd discovered about 'New Earth'.

Jean answered with a word that a teenaged girl shouldn't even know, let alone know what it meant.

“Show me.” I told her.

Oh yes, this was the same bunch. Thier victims weren't changed physically, but the mental/emotional anguish hadn't altered at all. I could see it, follow everyone the bastards had enslaved. Making careful note of the area, and the location, I nodded. “Jean, this is going to go down, but we have no real evidence, the physical kind, the paperwork or records.

“When we do this,” I looked at her and frowned, “People are going to believe that we're monsters who are just gettng rid of a tech we don't like.”

“Let them think what they want.” She shot back. “I'll put up with being branded as villian if we can stop this.”

“That's all I needed to know.” I said, and moved up to give her (still flaming) form a tight hug. “The general public and authorities already think I'm way too close to being a villian. But I do what I have been charged to do. Once The Phoenix learns more about how humans work through you let her see the good things first or you'll proably have a hard time holding her back. Just tell her that humaity also does good things, great things.”

“She knows that.” Jean answered. “I don't think she understands what is good, bad, evil, or what so far, though.”

“Got one I'm showing that to, myself right now.” I sighed. “You have to show The Phoenix the good and bad about being human, and that most of the time, the bad doesn't really warrant a lot of punishment. I discovered that I'm showing Tisiphone just that recently.”

“Shes' still pretty distant.” Jean nodded. “But she's interested.

“Tisiphone is anything but distant.” I chuckled. “But she still wants to learn more about humanity. I halfway think I became what I am now just so she could do that.”

“She had other reasons, Diana.” Jean smiled. “You have a strong sense of justice, the difference between right and wrong. But you also know what love is, what it is to actually care for others. The only things Tisiphone ever cared for before you were her sisters, and they died or just went away, because they weren't able to grasp the idea that to really punish someone, you have to care for them”

“You know how it was when you were a child.” She went on. “If your parents punished you with nothing more than words, it hurt a lot worse than if a teacher spanked you. After the spanking from the teacher, you were careful not to get into trouble again right away.

“But if your parent's spanked you?” She grinned. “You knew, you JUST knew, that what you'd done to get that was really, really wrong.”

“I'm not the world's damned mommy.” I shot back. “I never cared in my human life. If I had to get rid of someone, or hurt them, I just did it. Part of the job.”

“Liar.” Jean grinned. “You got yourself killed because you cared about someone, something, and you know it.”

I Lowered my head and nodded then looked back up into the suns of her eyes. “Yeah, I guess I do, and did, at that.”

“So don't be ashamed of caring, Diana.” Jean returned the hug and let me tell you, being embraced with fire hot enough to rival a star is something that just can't be described adequately. If it can be desribed at all.

And it felt good.

Really good.

Mitsuko sat on her vanity stool, and examined her room in the large, oval mirror. She already knew what she looked like, had been forced to see that so many times that she no longer felt the pangs of loss for what she had been.

No, this time she was looking, searching, for things that would reinforce what the Ghost Girl, Spectre, had given her.

That wasn't close to freedom, but at least now, she could think for herself, see things from her own perspective without feeling that horrible, mind numbing pain. She promised herself that no matter what happened, she would help the ghost girl.

Mitsuko hadn't feared death for what seemed like eternity. Death would have been a release.

But now, now, she had another life to consider. One that was growing in her belly, just below her heart, and she would not, WOULD NOT, allow that new, innocent life to be corrupted by the ones who had made it possible for her to be a mother.

And she would pay whatever the cost was to see that happen. Her baby would be better dead than in the kind of thrall she had experienced, though that thought gave her more pain that anything her tormentors had given her.

But her child would not have to endure what she had.

Samira worked her way to conciousness. She had resisted again. Taking that 'thing' in her mouth, the very idea of doing that, revolted her. And she had paid for for that with a white hot, all eveloping, pain that was inside her rather than outside and it ripped her apart so much inside that she doubted her ability to resist what her keepers wanted again.

“Be Strong.” A remembered voice actually soothed her once the pain allowed her to think again.

Samira shuddered, remembered that she had once done to others what was being done to her. Worse, she actually thought she desevered the kind of hell she was going through.

And whether she wished to belive it or not, clung to the promise The Spectre had given her.

I had touched the minds of my two — what should I call them? Decoys? Bait? Catspaws?

I really couldn't like myself much when I let myself think about what I was allowing those two to go through simply to achieve what most of the world would see as nothing but senseless destruction of a technology that could alleviate suffering and make life better for a lot of people.

Sadly, that chip could have been that boon to humanity. It could have been a miracle like no other in human history. But it was being used to create a Hell on Earth instead of what it's true potential could have been. Stopping the latter would very likely stop the former, too. I grieved over that, but sometimes there are things one has to do that are not good at all to keep others from harm.

“Am I setting myself up as something above eveyone else here?” I questioned the air, sky, nature, whatever. “Have I gotten to a point where I think, believe, I know what is good for people better than they do? Do I even have the right to think that?”

“You are removing an evil, dear one.” Tisiphone's voice intruded on my thoughts. “You do not judge, you do not set yourself above anyone. You do what you were made to do. Find the evil, and destroy it. My sisters and I were made to do that but we were flawed. We lacked the knowledge and understanding of humanity that you possess.”

“And that makes me less flawed?” I shot back. “I kill people. KILL people, or leave them in places so awful that I cringe when I even think about them.”

“Oh yes, daughter.” Tisiphone answered and stroked my cheek with a hand that felt way too soft to have delivered so much death and misery. “You understand what my sisters and I failed to grasp.”

“How is that?” I moved away from the hand I couldn't see but felt. “How is it that I'm any better than you were? I was born mortal, I would think that would make me less.”

“There is your mistake, dear one.” She answered. “Humanity has always managed to perplex and confound the gods and their creations. The one thing any of those gods could predict about your kind is that they never knew what you would do in a given circumstance.

“But they did know that best of you fought so hard because you fought for something other than themselves, for another person, an idea, a nation. The gods just could not comprehend the depth of passion you humans gave when any of you 'cared' for something or someone enough to sacrifice yourselves to preserve the other.

“Those who did understand feared your kind, do you know that?” She actually gave me a hug with that one. “Because they realized that your race had the potential to be greater than they were.”

“We're a long way from that right now.” I sighed.

“But closer than you think.”

“I don't think so.”

“Child, beloved child, don't you see?” She hugged me again. “Your race is becoming what the gods once were. The time for your kind to mature, to look to thier next horizon has started.”

“We aren't ready for something like that.” I argued.

“No one is ready when that time comes, beloved.” She told me. “It is never easy to grow up.”

Crap.

Like that was supposed to make me feel better? To learn that humanity stood at the cusp of godhood when so many of us were worse than the most foul demon of legend?

Well, no matter, I couldn't do much about the other things right now, but I could, and was determined to, eradicate one particular evil that was being inflicted on the race.

Even if I didn't like myslef all that much for some of the ways I was doing that.

I found her, in a small cell and oddly listless, as if she'd been drugged. But Megan should have been immune to that kind of thing. After a closer look I winced at the damage that had been done to her. But that was something she would have to deal with. I — no one could do that for her.

“Megan.” I whispered to her, disturbing an unpleasant dream and chasing it away. “Megan, come talk with me.”

She appeared in the dreamscape I often made use of, still appearing listless, and slumped slightly to one side even in this dream state. “What?”

“You've been badly hurt.” I told her then raised a hand to stop her protest or comment about pointing out the obvious. “But that shouldn't be able to stop you. “

“Shy shouldn't it?” Her bitterness, and anger hovered around her like dark clouds shot with lightning. “Why?”

“You don't have to appear like that here, you know.” I told her with a smile. “Remember how you were and at least here, it will be so.”

She gave me a blank stare for a few moments, then got a look of concentration on her face. Then stood straighter and her eyes bored into me while she didn't say a word.

“That's better.” I nodded. “You need to listen to me Megan, closely, all right?”

“All right.” She nodded in her turn but had a question she couldn't stop from getting out. “What am I supposed to do here? I'm helpless!”

“Helpless?” I looked at her and shook my head. “Oh, no you aren't that, never have been, never will be. Unless you allow it to happen.”

“What are you talking about? I got taken, and incapacitated.”

“You don't know?” I asked then moved forward to reach out and gently tap her forehead. “That still works, doesn't it? Your brain, your mind?”

“Yeah.” she nodded.

“Then use it.” I told her. “You were a cop, and a good one, before your Metagene kicked in weren't you?”

“Yes I was.”

“And how did that happen?” I questioned. “Was it luck?”

“No, I thought things out, and through to do my job.” She nodded slowly.

“Then do that now.” I told her. “Use that mind. You'll find a way to get where you need to be and to do what you have to here.”

“But...”

“No but's, Megan.” I softly told her. “Use what you have to get the job done. “Just remember that you aren't helpless.”

She gave me a little grin, even if it was grim. “I have some payback to hand out here, that's true enough.”

“That you do.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked. “Why come to me this way?”

“Everyone needs a little encouragement off and on.” I shrugged.

“Not you though.”

“Oh, especially, me, Megan.” I gave her a sad smile. “I have to go now. Get things settled here, then go to Lena and Doris. I'll see you there.”

Miss Mars, back after a short absence nodded thoughtfully and disappeared.

I'd done what I could under the circumstances. As I have said before, going in myself and removing her problems there would have done no one any good.

As to why I'd done it?

Ask Tisiphone. Maybe she'll tell you because she hasn't shared her reasons with me.

But Megan just needed that good o'l proverbial kick in the butt to get herself moving again.

“Clean yourself up, Samira.” Her handler ordered.

She picked herself up off the floor and headed for the shower where she washed off the results of her reactions to the last lesson and the rank, sour scent of sweat from her body. Once that was accomplished she moisturized and powdered herself as she had been forced to learn how to do then left the shower cubicle hoping her tormentor would be gone.

No such luck. He was still there, cruelly grinning, and expectant. “Get your hair in shape, and make yourself pretty, girl. We have potential customers here and they want to see some of our goods.”

Mentally cursing herself for weakness, and her tormentors for what they'd done, she moved to the vanity that was in her room and began brushing her thick hair once she seated herself.

“Good girl.” The man approved, then added. “Makeup and jewelry, too.”

She didn't answer, simply appied the cosmetics to enhance her already beautiful face with a skill that would have been completely foriegn to all she'd known before. Once that was finished, she spritzed herself with an expensive perfume and grimaced as she walked through the cloud of feminine scent.

“Now that's no way to be, Samira.” The man frowned. “Girls like you should smell pretty without frowning about it.”

She felt a pang of fear. Things like that had earned her punishment before. But doing them also filled her wth a sense of pleasure she hadn't dreamed could exist before her change. “I have done as you ordered, Master. Please don't punish me.”

The expected pain didn't come, thankfully, as the man shrugged. “Heels, and nothing else for this time around. We don't have time for you to clean yourself up again.”

Samira simply nodded, slipping her feet into the gold sandals with four inch heels.

“Come along, girl.” Her tormentor urged after giving her an appreciateive look. “People are waiting to see you strut your stuff.”

She just followed him, naked except for her makeup, jewelry, and the high heels.

Hating, raging, but unable to do anything about it.

“Colin, Colin.” I shook my head and sighed once the man and his underlings had emptied their weapons into me. “You can't kill something that is already dead.”

Yes, I had more important things to worry about, but I was still watcing over my town. The man I was chiding was a big time drug dealer and murderer. He killed, or had people killed, on a whim whether they really impacted on his business or not.

“You are a very bad man, Colin.” I smiled at him then let the full force of my eyes hit him. “So you have to pay for that.”

“It's business!” He weakly answered, as I moved to wrap his throat in one hand.

“No.” I shook my head as my hand tightened. “You enjoy it. The killing, the terror you inspire.”

“Please.” He was almost begging as my hand tightened.

“How many innocents asked the same thing of you, or your 'employees' when they were under the gun, Colin? How many?

“I'll change, I'll stop.”

“Yes you will.” I answered and broke his neck. The scum wasn't worth a bullet. “In Hell. I'll come see how your'e doing there.”

Then I killed his immediate underlings, those that had survived my first appearance anyway.

That kind of thing used to really bother me. But after what I'd been doing with the 'New World' conspiracy, it was actually kind of a relief. Clean kills, obvious bad guys taken out, do it and it's done.

Damn it. What in the name of God have I become? That I can think of killing over twenty people as nothing more than business as usual?

And a relief, a release from other things?

Yes, I was well and truly damned.

“Wear your best dress, and do your makeup perfectly.” Mitsuko's husband ordered. “We're going to show potential buyers just how good you are, darling.”

“Of course, husband.” She nodded and did as he ordered. While hating him, and what she had been forced to become.

But that hate for herself was tempered now. She had another life to consider after all with her pregnancy, and the ghost girl had assured her that her situation wasn't hopeless after all. And had given her the ability to think for herself as a promise on that statement.

Also, she knew the ghost girl was seeing things through her eyes. And sharing her pain.

So she would do what was expected. Do what her tormentors wished.

Because every time she did, the ghost girl found more to help her stop this abomination.

And if she, Mitsuko, couldn't be free, at least others might be, thanks to what she endured.

“We've found two sites where this is happening.” I told the gathering in the wharehouse Doris and Lean called home. “But we need to find them all. There are more.”

“I'm tracking comunications from the two we are aware of.” Lena answerd then frowned. “But it's slow. These people are very careful, and paranoid.”

“They have two locations in Europe,” Kyle — the Green Lantern one — added. But they are well shielded and hidden. I still haven't found them. There is another one in China.”

“You'll find them.” I told him, then looked at Lena. “You have the information?

“Yup.” She grinned. “I'll be digging, poking, and following trails. We'll find the places.”

“Good.” I nodded. “We need to take all of them out at the same time. If even one gets past us, this horror will continue.”

Everyone agreed, then Jean — The Phoenix — added. “I sat by once when this kind of thing was happening, it won't be that way this time. I'll slag any facility we find.”

“Is Megan going to be in on this?” Doris questioned.

“Oh, yes.” I assured everyone. “Miss Mars will be here when the time comes.”

For some reason they all took that as assured.

What is it about me that makes people think that things I say are fact?

Samira found herself in the center of an arena, with a pregnant woman she recogized. Mitsuko.

In a former incarnation, Samira had helped shape Mitsuko, forced the lovely young woman she saw to be whatever was needed.

Mitsuko returned her regard and there was something, an indifiable thing, in the expectant mother's eyes as they looked at each other.

With a little shock, Samira recognized that as the same thing that was keepint her going.

Mitsuko had been in contact with the Spectre, too.

Both women acknowledged that fact as they exchanged glances, and formed a bond that was nearly like being sisters.

Without it being spoken aloud, both knew that they would do whatever was needed to destroy what had made them.