Part Two

"How was the concert you and Michelle went to last night?" asked Energia, as she ran into Vic on the way to class the next morning.

"Fantastic!" said Vic, enthusiastically. Not mentioning that they had needed to rush after getting "distracted" thanks to the filtered images. "You know you've got a good performer - and a good audience - when people are cheering the pauses in the music!"

"I, uh..." was all Energia could manage.

The martial artist laughed, but not at her friend. She was still joyfully recalling the events of that night. Some of which had both preceded and succeeded the concert.

"You know I don't normally wear makeup or girly clothes, but Michelle had me so dolled up I actually felt pretty! She even pierced my ears, knowing they'd heal back within hours of taking the posts out."

"Ow," said Energia, with a wincing laugh. Deciding to focus on the physical discomfort her friend must have experienced, rather than the mental image of the formerly male Vic getting "dolled up." Though, come to think of it, Energia had never seen an image of Vic's previous form.

"More itching than ow," said Vic, grinning. "Worth it, though."

Energia smiled, remembering that Vic and Michelle had hooked up when the latter played some classic jazz while doing Vic's hair.

Must be nice, she thought, with a pang. To have someone with tastes that close to yours.

"I'm glad they know me there, though," said Vic, obviously becoming irritated. "At that concert venue, I mean. It's getting harder and harder to convince people of my actual age!"

"The US really needs to switch to the metric system," said Energia, firmly.

"How would that help me?"

"You'd be 28 in metric years."

"Har. Har."

"Well, here's where we part ways," said Energia, waving as she turned left. "Later!"

* * *

As the world moved towards another holiday season, something long delayed was finally getting underway. A Christmas present for an entire nation. A gift which was very late overall but would arrive early for this year's celebration.

Justice can be exceedingly slow, especially when people of power and influence fight against its outcome. However, one of the advantages of being long-lived is outlasting your enemies. Emil Constantine Moldarus was finally - decades after the international and even US legal systems had decided in the favor of his nation - seeing justice be fulfilled. Those currently in power in the US saw the matter as a minor bureaucratic annoyance which should have been settled long before their watch. Those few remaining voices shouting objections to the legal decision finally being obeyed were ignored as out of touch and irrelevant.

Constantine - officially, His Royal Highness, Constantine I, King of Moldaria - wanted to keep the matter quiet until the items were actually in Moldaria, for obvious reasons. However, someone - perhaps out of spite for the US finally complying - leaked word of the shipment to the press. The ruler of that small but technologically advanced nation therefore arranged a news conference, holding it in the Great Hall of the palace in his nation's capital.

"In 1914, many of the national treasures of Moldaria - including the entire coronation regalia - were put into the care of the United States Government, following invasion by the Kaiser's troops," said Constantine. He was in his dress costume, which was archaic but on him looked very good, indeed. It resembled a late Nineteenth Century dress cavalry uniform of his country, and came with a short cape, gloves and cap. "The actual, physical items of value were originally placed in a vault in the basement of the Treasury Building in Washington, DC to await the freeing of my country from the depredations of the Germans. Unfortunately, after the Germans left the Bolsheviks moved in, and the Soviet Union took over. After the opening of the Fort Knox Bullion Depository in 1936 our national treasures were moved there in 1937. As far as I know, that was the last time they were actually handled by anyone.

"Through the decades the United States kept the treasures of Moldaria safe, but also refused to release them to the government in exile. Even after our nation was finally freed in 1949, the US would not return the crown jewels, the historic documents and other precious items belonging to our nation. They claimed that the new Moldaria had no continuity with the old.

"A World Court decision in 1965 said otherwise and ordered the United States to return our property. Unfortunately, the government of the United States decided to ignore that ruling, despite courts in the US supporting the World Court decision. It has taken until now to get them to comply.

"You will understand if I don't provide any details of how the items will be returned to their rightful home. I will say that they should be back where they belong in time for Christmas, and - after a full inventory and the performance of any necessary restorations - will then be put on public display. Thank you."

* * *

"What he didn't mention," said Randy, to his wife, after the conference ended and the TV returned to the usual programming, "is that he increased the motivation by offering to share his supercapacitor technology with the US."

"Sometimes you just have to sweeten the pot," said Karen, philosophically.

"How do you sweeten a pot?" said Roy.

"Different kind of pot, honey," said Randy, in a deliberate pun.

"Sweeten the honey pot!" said little Sarah, emphatically. Getting it, though likely by accident.

* * *

The November 18th departure of the small ship - from one of the docks recently rebuilt after the attack of the cyborg clone of Tritonicus, months before - was supposed to be as secret as the special part of its cargo. However, word had somehow leaked that the Storm Defiant was the vessel carrying the container with Moldaria's treasures. This was not a huge surprise. The ship was registered in Norway, but often carried large items between the US and Moldaria. Reporters - including two TV news crews - arrived over two hours before the scheduled departure. Unfortunately for them, that was too late.

They tried to get interviews with the crew, but those individuals were already aboard and not inclined to leave the ship. The reporters, who were barred from going aboard themselves, instead interviewed dock workers. They quickly realized most of those they spoke with had no idea what was going on, and the rest wouldn't talk. There were other items in the cargo in addition to the one, special container, but all anyone among the press wanted to know about was that item and its contents.

The Storm Defiant was not a dedicated container ship, but a general freighter intended to carry large items - such as pieces of industrial equipment - in a protected cargo hold. It did not normally carry standardized cargo containers but could accommodate them, also in the hold. Estimated time from port to port was twenty days. If the weather cooperated.

Constantine, informed of the presence of reporters by the ship's captain over secure radio, told him to ignore the distraction and follow the plan. Once the ship was in international waters he was to open sealed orders and follow them.

Fortunately, the news leak was the only untoward thing apparent as the ship left harbor.

* * *

Champion - Paula, when she wasn't in uniform, though she currently was - watched the news in the lounge of the Assembly base. Distracted - and just plain tired - she half expected Buzz to make some ribald comment. She winced as she remembered he had died during the war.

Sighing, Champion straightened and reached for the remote, but was interrupted as Dr. Gorgeous entered.

"Ah," the newcomer said, nodding, as she slid onto the couch at the other end. "The Storm Defiant. Finally."

"Care to elaborate?" said Champion, dryly. "You do sometimes forget that the rest of us don't always keep up with your thought processes."

"Oh! Sorry. It's just that not only has this return been a long time coming, but there are already rumors that the treasures aren't actually aboard."

"Why wouldn't they be?" said Champion, puzzled.

"As I noted, there are many rumors, most of which I won't bother repeating. However, something which is not rumor is that the US Treasury Department refused to allow anyone from Moldaria in the Depository to handle the packaging or even supervise it. Constantine and his people won't know if they actually have the treasures until they open the container in Moldaria."

"That sounds... not only strange, but petty," said Champion, frowning.

"Government agents cited several regulations to justify that particular course of action," said Gorgeous. "However, the real reason is lingering resentment towards Constantine. Even though the specific persons currently enforcing the unofficial but very real administrative enmity towards him likely can not name Constantine's long-ago offenses. Bureaucracy does what it has been programmed to do, long after all the individuals who made the policy decisions are gone."

"Let's just hope nobody in the US government actually tried to cheat him," said Champion. She sighed again, and rose. "Think I'm gonna go shower and get into civvies. Got some paperwork and personal matters to attend to."

"Good night," said Gorgeous.

Champion made herself wait until she was actually inside her quarters with the door closed to take her mask off. People at the base already knew what she looked like, but she didn't want to get in the habit of unthinkingly removing her concealment. People had died and lives had been ruined through such a moment of carelessness.

Once in her quarters, though, the mask came off. In the bedroom it was tossed onto the bed, quickly joined by her utility belt and the items hidden around her outfit, then followed shortly by the rest of her costume. Soon she - now Paula - was sitting at the vanity in just her panties. After stretching and scratching several parts of her body in a completely unerotic way, Paula unpinned her hair, shook it out, and began vigorously rubbing her head. She actually smiled at this simple pleasure. Paula was still doing this when the main door opened and Susan came in. Even though this was a room away, one of the advantages of being what she was meant that Paula knew this, without even marveling at it.

"Your shift over already?" Paula called out, surprised. She glanced at the clock as her roommate reached the bedroom door. The time was later than she had realized. For some reason, one power - or knack, since many who weren't supers had it - she didn't have was a precise sense of time.

"A few minutes ago. Here, let me do that."

Susan moved in behind the seated Paula and began messaging her scalp. Paula closed her eyes and made tired sounds of pleasure.

The massage quickly became more erotic, and soon developed into something very intimate.

* * *

One advantage of their status at Ramsey Technical College was that Vic and Energia got to use the facilities set aside for Teaching Assistants. Perhaps the greatest of these benefits was the special lounge. In large part this appreciation was because it gave them a break from the younger students. The TA lounge was a rare place of peace and quiet on the campus, second only to the spooky chapel, which no-one liked to use. Only, right now most of the students and even teachers had already left for the holidays. The two supers were among a small group staying a few extra days to complete some coursework or projects after the regular close of business.

"It's a bit sad," said Energia, as she and Vic both sat on the slightly decrepit couch. Energia stretched and yawned before continuing. "Almost nobody going here when I started is still here. Even a lot of the teachers have left."

"You still approved to get credit from our work last Summer with The FX for your Master's?" said Vic, not bothering to point out that she had been here longer than Energia.

"Yeah. They also decided to count a bunch of my other super work; at least those adventures that I wrote up for credit. Which means I could have my degree as early as next Spring! Or, if I still need some hours they'll count us giving more clinics next Summer."

"Great! They're counting my stuff, too. No idea whether they're comparing the things we did together, though."

Energia frowned at her friend.

"Okay, give. What's bothering you?"

"Is it that obvious?" said Vic, with a tired sigh.

"Yeah. So, spill."

"Michelle and I put down a deposit on a larger apartment," said Vic. "We got a good deal because the previous renter died unexpectedly, and the manager gave us a big discount on the deposit for cleaning out his stuff. However, while we were boxing his belongings and preparing them for storage his parents showed up to do the same thing. With a guy we didn't know who said he was the manager."

"Ow!" said Energia, wincing. "So, you got scammed by someone pretending to be the manager?"

"Yeah, only it wasn't that simple. The guy we signed a contract with and paid even had keys to the apartment! We did most of the work cleaning out the apartment and lost our deposit and first three months of rent. The bank which cashed the check is refusing to say who owned the account, unless somebody gets a court order making them do so. I checked with the local federal housing offices to see what sort of recourse we might have for getting our money back, and they said there had been several such scams in the city recently. The folks I talked to weren't directly involved, since they're federal and these crimes are all local, but they recommended someone in the city government to talk to about our money. They said they can't help us, at least not right now, since the investigation is ongoing. They did tell me they suspect several local landlords are working with a small group of criminals to arrange all this, taking their cut from the fake landlord, then legitimately renting the property after the scam is discovered."

"Whoah..."

"So the feds might become involved, after all. Called in because it appears that some city officials and police officers - and maybe even one or more banks - are involved in the scam. Meanwhile, Michelle and I are out several hundred dollars each. Plus the time spent working on the cleanup. Plus we also had to tell out current landlord we weren't moving out the first of January. He was pretty upset at that, since he'd already found a renter!"

"Ow, again," said Energia, sympathetically.

Vic was about to say something about how their existing rent had been increased because of all that, but was interrupted by another TA entering the lounge.

"Say, did you hear?" said Mark DuBois. "That ship carrying Constantine's treasure vanished!"

"Oh, boy," said Energia, alarmed. "That's not good. On multiple levels."

"Yeah. Everyone involved is keeping the details secret, but the cargo ship the container was on apparently got caught in a North Sea storm. The ship got off a couple of calls to the local maritime authority about problems with waves, then went silent. They're planning to send planes out to search as soon as the winds allow."

They talked for a while about the possible ramifications if the ship was lost. Then the two supers had to leave for classes.

Later that day, Energia used the recently installed secure communications system at the school to call the Pine Island Academy and talk about the matter with her team leader. So far the connection was voice and flat image only, with no 3D video, but it would do.

"Y'know, I am worried about the crew," said Energia, thoughtfully. "However, there could be a lot more lives at stake if Constantine thinks this is part of some plot against his country - or him - instead of a simple accident. Or a simple theft by a third party... which it very well could be."

"I'm sure many people are taking that into consideration," said Blue Impact dryly. "However, Constantine has mellowed a lot in the past fifty years."

"Well, even if he has, his reputation is working against him."

"A lot of people are already working on this," said Blue Impact. "If the ship still hasn't been found by the time you are ready to leave the college for the holidays, I might call Tricorne together then to help. I don't see us going to the North Sea, but we could run background on the shipping company and anyone else on the eastern seaboard who might have been involved. "

"I'll stay available, then," said Energia, nodding.

* * *

One reason Vic had stayed late at the college was due to her favorite teacher. She wanted to wait until Coach Trujillo was finished with teaching his regular classes for the semester. He was popular enough during a school term that he kept getting requests for meetings or help with special projects, sometimes even after hours.

Vic knew Coach Trujillo would be spending the holidays alone again, which was why she made a point of stoping by to visit just before leaving. She also knew he would be in his office this time of day, making preparations for some remedial teaching he was doing during the month when most of the students and teachers would be off. However, Vic was a bit surprised to find him stalking a fly in the small room. He deftly caught it and - with a smile and nod of welcome to Vic - carried it to his windowsill terrarium. There he just as deftly tossed the insect into one of the open maws of his Venus flytrap.

"Oh, hey," said Trujillo, finally waving at Vic. "Just giving Audrey her holiday present. I want to make sure she's well fed and watered, since I will likely be out of the office a few days in a row a couple of times this month."

"You should use chopsticks to catch those flies," said Vic, grinning. "By the wings."

Vic already knew the name of the - admittedly thriving - little carnivorous plant, but not the origin of that name. She figured it was from some old girlfriend, or something like that.

Vic made pleasant conversation as they both took seats at the martial arts instructor's desk. She didn't go into much detail about her holiday plans, since that involved staying with Michelle's parents for several days. She didn't want to remind her trainer that he was going to be alone. However, her just being there was enough for that. Or at least to make him think of some depressing things. After several minutes of innocuous conversation, the pair fell silent.

"I envy you," said Trujillo, after a bit of silence, the two of them seated on opposite sides of his modest desk. "Successful super career. Accepting family and girlfriend. Promise of a federal LEO career. Possibility of a teaching career. Regeneration, so you stay young. That last I really envy. I am having more and more trouble just staying in good shape, and I'm not quite sixty, yet."

"Yeah," said Vic, grinning, "but remember, what you call good shape most people call peak human fitness!"

"Heh. There is that."

"Also, you haven't been keeping up with recent medical developments. Between data we got from the Shilmek and super brains working on biology, they're already approving anti-aging treatments. There are even outpatient regeneration treatments. Those aren't as fast or thorough as the power or using one of the tanks - though even those are getting cheaper - but it's still regeneration."

"You're right," said Trujillo, startled. "I haven't been keeping up."

"I think the college's medical benefits include getting into trials for that stuff, too." Vic grinned, glad she might have helped lighten the mood of her teacher and friend. "The whiners are already complaining that this makes traditional retirement obsolete, and we'll never be able to refresh the workforce or get stodgy old scientists out so we can get new blood in. The optimists are pointing out that with fewer children being born and the average age of the population increasing, we need these treatments to keep vital job positions filled."

"Heh..." said Trujillo, again, though he looked more thoughtful this time. "Well, you've given me a lot to think about. Which I will think about, thank you. Now, go have a good holiday."

"Than you, coach!" said Vic, bouncing out of her chair and waving as she headed for the door.