Flying Sparks

Peter, Brandon, Colin and Monica were already in the pool by the time I arrived, but I didn't get in the water. I couldn't get in the water. Of course, that didn't stop Peter from trying to splash me. Lucky me, I can take a little water without juicing everything. I sat down on the pool chair and just started to read.

That was when Peter decided to splash some more water at me. Ugh! I lowered my book and took off my sunglasses. "Hey, c'mon! You, quit it!"

"Why don't you get in the pool?" he asked.

"You wanna get fried that badly?"

Monica swam up to Peter and smacked him on the back of the head. "Don't be insensitve, Pete. Remember why you can't use a treadmill? Korra can't get in the pool because her body generates electricity constantly."

He scratched his chin. "Wait a minute, how do you take a shower, then?"

I shrugged. "Wet towels. I basically just squirt some body wash on me and then pat myself down with wet towels. Works so far."

He turned back to Monica. "Okay, so obviously, I kinda... broke the treadmill last time I tried it, Korra can't get in the water, Brandon accidentally demolished a subway car last week and Colin often wake up in the middle of the night floating in the air."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."

"What can't you do?"

She sighed. "I can't... Well... I can't use the microwave."

I giggled. "What?"

She sighed again. "I can't use the microwave. Every time my finger makes contact with the button, I blow up the inner workings, okay? You happy now, Pete?"

He raised an eyebrow. "But you never blow up the TV, or anything else, for that matter."

She smacked him in the head, again. "That doesn't matter!"

I sighed this time. "Look, guys, as much as this conversation about our unique weaknesses is, what's it really matter if I can't get in the pool. I can still have fun just talking to you guys, while you guys get to swim." I smiled. "Besides, even if I can't swim, I can still kick you guys' butts at basketball."

Colin hopped out of the pool. "Oh, I feel a challenge comin' on." He grabbed his towel and started drying off. "Wanna test that, Kor? Everybody knows white girls can't jump."

I smirked, then jumped off of my chair and held myself in the air. "I can float, y'know."

Brandon got out of the pool next, stood beside Colin. "I'm thinkin' we need to teach this girl a lesson, bro."

Monica got out of the pool and stood next to me. "Boys versus girls? Pete as the referee?"

Peter literally jumped out of the pool next. "Aw, c'mon! Why can't I play?"

I landed and giggled. "Because you can run faster than a speeding bullet. You'd cheat a thousand times a game."

He shook his head, quickly, I might add. "No, I wouldn't!"

Monica folded her arms under her breasts. "Sorry, Pete. It's decided. You referee, while Kor and I kick these guys' asses all over the court."

***

William Brand smiled as the four kids bounced the ball back and forth across the basketball court, He remembered those days, back when the only thing anyone actually cared about was friendly competition. Granted, for him those days didn't involve learning about how your brand new super powers affected you or those around you. that was the part of growing up that he'd never understand. Powers hadn't come into the equation until just recently.

He took a sip of his brandy and then set it down on the table beside his host. She simply stared forward, much like she always did. He wondered if she'd been like that before the Event, but he always put it out of his mind whenever she decided to put something in his mind.

Much like now.

They're enjoying themselves.

"I know. It's one of the last pleasures of adolescence that they still have." He turned to Ms. Morris. "You're looking good, Erica."

Please, William, I look like I can't use the bathroom on my own. And I can't. Just because I've lost my physical body doesn't mean I can't use my mind, however, and do what needs to be done to help anyone.

He nodded. "I know. It's why you're my most valuable ally."

Moreso than Guardian, or Angel? I thought you trusted them with your life.

"As fighters, yes, but Guardian's a simple man. He enjoys being the Clark Kent of the world, and I'll let him be that. Angel is an unknown commodity, and she wants to stay that way. I understand secrets, so I'll let her keep hers as long as she doesn't endanger anyone."

It's a shame you don't have as much trust in them as you do in me.

"I didn't say I didn't trust them completely. But they can't turn a group of potential teenage weapons into a group of heroes."

It's not hard when they want to learn how to control their powers.

Brand took another sip of his brandy. "Hopefully, their reputation builds, and you get walk-ins soon. There's hundreds of Chosen under eighteen out there, and a vast majority of them could use the kind of help that you provide. Not every teen hero is as strong-willed as Arachnya."

Ms. Morris' eyes looked off to the other direction. How is your relationship to the East City Police now that Captain Harkins is gone?

He sighed. "Luckily, the new captain, Monica's aunt, is as friendly to costumes as her predecessor was." He leaned against the window. "The relationship hasn't changed all that much. Maybe a little finer, a little tighter, but not much change." He turned back to Ms. Morris. "There's another student you're going to get later. Steven Hobbs. I learned about him through the ECPD, He was arrested yesterday, after an altercation with the police outside a liquor store."

And what is Mr. Hobbs' special gift?

He smiled. "Oh you'll like this one." He walked toward the door. "He stopped a guy robbing the liquor store by turning the asphalt into mud."

***

I caught the ball as Monica passed it to me just as Brandon tried to take it out of her hands. I dribbled it for a second, trying to fake out Colin, but that didn't work. Then he decided to use his powers to lift me into the air. "That's cheating!" I screamed. I then smirked, used the situation to my advantage, and took my shot, landing it in the net. "For our side!"

Brandon smacked Colin on the back of the head, making him drop me. I managed to keep myself upright and gave Monica a high-five as I landed. She dribbled the ball a little and then we were back at it, her passing it to me while the guys tried to get it. The rest of the game went like that, with the guys getting not one point.

"See, told you, you guys suck," Monica said, a smirk on her face. Colin just flipped her the bird while Brandon simply fell over out of exhaustion. Monica looked tired, but I wasn't. I don't know why, either. Maybe it was just an effect of my powers.

Brandon coughed out a laugh. "Two out of three, c'mon." He fell over after that.

Colin just shook his head. "Screw that, I don't need to get my ass handed to me by a couple girls again. It's bad enough one of 'em's my girlfriend."

Peter shrugged. "At least you guys got to play. All I got to do was be the ref, and that wasn't fun at all."

I patted him on the shoulder. "But you were a good ref."

Another voice said, "Eh, you guys didn't need a ref." I spun around and saw a woman in her mid-thirties walk up the yard. "Boys can't play basketball for shit. It's the same as it was when I was in school."

"Aunt Holly!" Monica cried, running up to her aunt and throwing her arms around her. "It's been forever!"

Captain Montoya patted her niece's back. "It's been a few days, sweetie." They broke off the hug. "I'm actually here on business. We arrested a Chosen yesterday, for his own protection, because he decided to turn a city street into muck."

I piped in. "That's the most disgusting power I've ever heard of."

She nodded. "It ain't pretty, I'll give you that much. As soon as we saw what he could do, we shoved him into a patrol car and I put a call out to that Knight guy. He told us to bring the kid up here."

Another officer - a regular uniformed patrolman, I noticed - walked up with a young man about Monica's age who looked like he hadn't lived in a home in years. He looked scruffy, his hair was a mess and he was wearing very badly fitting clothes. Granted, none of our clothes fit right after we first changed, so that was just the usual.

"You the guy?" Monica asked.

"You could say that, yeah. Steve, Steve Hobbs."

Monica held out her hand. "I'm Monica. Welcome to school, Steve."

Colin stepped up behind her. "But, Monica's off-limits, because she's already dating me."

Captain Montoya said, "Does he always go around advertising you two?"

Monica blushed. "Well... it just kinda happens... and..." She elbowed Colin. "I told you not to do that!"

I was watching Steve the whole time, and he didn't look amused in any way. Actually, he looked kinda angry. I couldn't quite place what it was with him, but he looked like he was cycling back and forth between anger and depression every few seconds. Maybe he was bi-polar.

Steve walked over to the basketball and picked it up. He dribbled for a few seconds, then tried for a basket. I seemed to be the only one paying attention to him. While the rest of them talked, I walked over to Steve and took the ball out of his hands. "You wanna play against me?" I asked.

He grabbed the ball out of my hands this time, and said, "How are you gonna play if you can't move?"

I looked down at my feet and found that he'd used his powers to stick me to the asphalt. "Hey! That's no fair!"

He smiled - Hey! A smile! - and said, "One thing I learned on the street is that nothin's fair."

I smiled back at him, then supercharged my feet to melt the muck and broke out of his little foot trap. "That so? Well then, I think maybe I can adjust to those rules."

He juggled the basketball between his hands. "Whaddid they call you? I got the stupid name of Muck."

I created an arc of electricity between my hands. "You can call me Spark."

He whistled. "Ooh, shocking"

***

EAST CITY:

Gustav Hammond knocked the ashes off of a cigar and laughed at the pure stupidity of it all. In his other hand, he held a copy of the latest Daily News Brigade, with a headline he hated a great deal.

"MIKE 'BIG MIKE' RICHARDSON ARRESTED WITH EVIDENCE POINTING TO HAMMOND!"

He pressed the intercom button on his desk. "Shirley, call the Brigade and get me Keith Cabot." He didn't even wait for her acknowledgement, he knew she'd do what he ordered. He just couldn't believe it. That Richardson would be stupid enough to have fake evidence. There was no real evidence that led in anyway to Gustav, he'd covered his tracks so well that there was no evidence he'd ever seen that road, much less driven on it.

He set the paper down, stood up and walked over to the windows behind his desk. He looked out upon the city and wondered just which of the city's precinct houses Richardson was locked away in. If he was lucky, Svetlana could deal with this situation from inside the building.

"I wouldn't count on that, if I were you," a voice behind him said, a calm and calculated voice. Gustav spun around and saw the Benefactor standing there, Cloak behind him. "Big Mike's not being locked up here. He's asked for a home-field advantage. Larsen City."

Gustav cursed under his breath. "And just how do you know that?"

The Benefactor smiled. "How do I know anything, Gustav? You should know the answer to that question already."

Right. Because you're omnisciant. I'll believe that when I see it, my friend. He walked back to his desk and tapped on the newspaper. "What do you know about this?" he asked, waiting for a response from the other man.

"Only what you know, my friend, that the evidence isn't real, purely fabricated so that he can drag you down with him. A waste of resources by anyone's account."

Gustav didn't ignore the the way the Benefactor called him friend, almost exactly as Gustav himself had thought it just moments before. "Any chance that I'll actually be tied to him?"

The Benefactor shook his head. "No." He walked around to Gustav's side of the desk and put his hand on Gustav's shoulder. "Try not to worry about such things, Gustav. I have everything well in hand, and everything's just another step on our path."

Gustav nodded slowly.

***

I intercepted the ball just before Steve had a chance to sink a basket and threw it back to my side of the court. I only just made the net before someone blew a whistle, like this was a real game of basketball and not just two super-powered teenagers trying their best to use their powers to catch the other one off guard. My kinetic thrusters (my flying ability, I have names for all of them) kept me out and away from his mud-making abilities, though it really put a hamper on my concentration.

Brandon was the one with the whistle. It looked like everybody else had already gone back inside, and I hadn't noticed? Man... I guess I was really enjoying myself. Why? It was simple basketball, which I played with Peter at least once a week.

"C'mon, Kor, time to introduce Muck here to Ms. Morris."

Steve scratched at the back of his neck. "Can ya call me Steve? Muck sounds stupid."

"Tremor isn't all that brilliant, either, but it's what our Choosers decided to name us. If you're gonna be a part of our team, you're gonna havta go by your code name once in a while."

Steve shrugged. "So how come you just called Spark 'Kor'?"

"Because she's the closest thing to a little sister that I've got." He walked a little closer to Steve. "Besides, mud gets pretty brittle when you run some electric current through it."

I giggled. "You know that's not true, right?"

He shrugged. "Seemed like a good threat, though. Right, Steve?"

Steve nervously chuckled. "Yeah." I flashed him a smile, then we walked inside.

Ms. Morris was already in the rec room, where we spent the majority of our day if we weren't being taught one of many lessons by Ms. Morris, or Brandon, who was the only one of us who had graduated high school. (Well, besides Ms. Morris, but I didn't feel I needed to say that.) Monica was shooting a game of pool with Peter, and Colin was lounging around on the couch, watching TV. Ms. Morris appeared to be watching the pool game, mainly giving Peter some pointers. Must have been his first pool game.

Alright, everyone, Ms. Morris' 'voice' said in all of their heads. Steve looked pretty surprised. You've all met Steven, now let's welcome him Brandon wheeled her closer to the surprised boy. My name is Erica Morris, and I'll be your teacher in matters relating to slightly more advanced schoolwork, as well as teaching you how to use your gifts.

"Are you... um..." he stammered out, unable to finish his thought.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. My gift disabled the majority of my body. It's not a pleasant feeling, being able to walk one day and then incapable of even the most mundane of tasks. I can't even move my pinky very well. Diodes connected to my brain allow me to speak through a synthesizer, but I choose to speak through the mind. My students find it's less creepy that way.

"I... un... see."

We have very basic rules here, Steven. Though you may use your powers downstairs in the training room, and you'll probably be called upon to use them against criminals out in the field, you're never to use them to harm anyone for any reason that is not defense. We're not out to hurt anyone, not for any reason.

"I understand. Um... you mentioned being in the field, do you mean out there, like in a costume, or something?"

We use code names here, but costumes are completely out of the question. No use in you all loooking stupid while you're out helping people.

"But, do you mean, like, super hero type stuff? Are you guys super heroes?"

If Ms. Morris were able to smile, I'm sure she would have. You could call us that, Steven.

***

Gustav tapped the ashes off of another cigar when the intercom buzzed that Cabot and a photographer had arrived. He couldn't understand why the Brigade insisted on sending photographers every time they sent reporters, but, if he had things his way, he knew exactly which photographer it would be. He wasn't disappointed moments later when Keith Cabot walked in with the young Charlotte Harkins.

"Mr. Cabot, Ms. Harkins, it's nice to see you both again," he said, standing from his chair. He walked over to the couches that dominated the center of the room. "Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to see me."

Cabot took Gustav's hand and shook it, but Harkins did nothing. She didn't seem all that happy to be there, and he had his assumptions as to why. "Thank you, Mr. Hammond," Cabot said, taking a seat, "but Charlotte and I weren't all that busy. Simply finishing up some new articles." Gustav sat down on the couch opposite the two and waited as his secretary arrived with coffee for the three of them. "I'm surprised that I didn't see Ms. Narekova downstairs. Is she taking the day off?"

Gustav shook his head. "No. There was some family trouble back in Russia that she had to deal with. I gave her the week."

Harkins took a sip of her coffee. "How come she's in a special cell in the basement of Captain Montoya's precinct house?" the girl asked, an accusing tone to her voice.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Harkins, could you explain yourself?"

"She's one of the three criminals the police arrested a few weeks ago, after that bank robbery that all the heroes interrupted. I saw her."

Gustav wanted to smile. The girl was confirming his suspicions. He knew there had to be something more about her after her father, a police captain instead of a simple beat cop like she'd said, had died. Now he wondered if Ms. Charlotte Harkins had actually been at that bank robbery, perhaps wearing a silly costume of her own, yellow and black with big white eyes.

"Anyway," Cabot said, "we're here because of the article the Brigade printed about your connections to Mike Richardson, correct?"

Gustav nodded. "Yes. I'd just like to inform you and your paper that Mr. Richardson and I have never even met, let alone done business on anything considered illegal."

Cabot nodded. "I understand what you're saying, Mr. Hammond, but Mr. Richardson provided proof to our newspaper, and to the police." He drank from his cup. "I saw it myself."

Gustav looked at him with a cool eye. "Proof can be fabricated. Quite easily, in fact."

Harkins made a sort of snorting sound. "You sound like you've done it yourself, Mr. Hammond."

There! He recognized that wit. Straight from the moment he first saw Arachnya in his office that night he was talking to Richardson's men. No doubt, this girl had a secret of her own. He wanted to smile, again, but he didn't. I've got you now, little girl. "I assure you, young lady, that I've never done anything of the sort." He turned back to Cabot. "I personally assure the Brigade that I've never been involved personally or professionally with Mr. Richardson, nor do I intend to."

Cabot stood up and extended his arm. "Thank you, Mr. Hammond. Thank you for seeing us, as well." Hammond shook the man's hand and was about to do the same with Harkins, but she simply folded her arms under her breasts. "Charlotte and I have work we need to prepare for tomorrow's edition. Goodbye."

Hammond watched them leave, then returned to his desk. He had assurances from the Benefactor that the evidence was indeed falsified, if he couldn't deter the press and the police from pushing their angle, or at least doing something to draw suspicion off of himself, he wouldn't be able to pursue his ultimate goal.

He tapped a key on his computer and smiled. His ultimate goal. The Benefactor had no idea about it. He had proven that there were some things that the Benefactor truly did not know, and he was going to use that to his advantage. His ultimate goal.

He felt his smile widen.

***

Brandon stood across the room from Steve and waited a moment, then he split the ground in a straight line directly toward Steve, who jumped out of the way and turned the ground beneath Brandon into mud. You think that's gonna stop me, Steve? He stepped out of mud pile and then solidified it back into stable ground. He saw the surprised look on Steve's face.

"It's why Ms. Morris picked us, Steve, our powers are similar, we both control ground to a certain degree." He used his power to create rock restraints around Steve's hands. "Now, it's time for you to learn how to use your powers without your hands."

"How do I do that?" On cue, Brandon tapped his earpiece and Colin threw two metal cubes in Steve's direction. He ducked underneath them, as much as he could with the restraints holding him in place. "I thought you said it was just the two of us?!"

Brandon ripped a piece of rock out of the floor and hopped up on it. "You also need to learn how to defend yourself against multiple enemies. Colin's gonna keep throwing stuff at you until you turn them into mud, and until you escape the restraints."

Steve looked like he was getting constipated as he tried to concentrate on turning the flying objects into mud. All he succeeded in doing was making them a little muddy on the edges before they hit near him. Brandon used his power to make sure they didn't hit him directly. He tapped his earpiece again, signalling Monica. She set off an explosion near Steve's feet.

"What the hell?!" Steve shouted. "Three of you?!"

Monica walked out of the shadows. "Sorry, Steve, boss's orders." She smirked, causing a piece of the rock restraints to explode. "Most of our powers aren't related to any specific body part, so you can use more than just your hands to make your mud. I used to think that it was just my hands that caused the explosions, but I can do 'em with my mind, now."

"Can somebody at least explain how I do that?!"

Brandon caused another restraint to grip Steve's neck. "Just think," he said, landing in front of the kid. "Think, and make all that rock mud. You've done it with asphalt and the concrete of the basketball court." Another piece of half-muddy metal flew past their heads. "And you can clearly do it with metal, too, obviously you can manipulate everything with elements of earth in it." He held up his hand and grabbed one of the metal cubes. "Just like me."

Steve again had that constipated look on his face, until something exploded in the air above his head. He tried to duck again, but the restraint around his neck, holding him in place, prevented that.

"Do it!" Brandon shouted. "They're gonna kill you, unless you learn how to make mud without your hands! Your life depends on this!"

Steve's closed eyes shot open, his pupils dead-white, and suddenly, the cubes flying toward them, the restraints holding him in place, and the rock that Brandon was standing on, all liquified, changing into mud. Brandon fell on his ass and struggled to get up, because the mud was caking, sticking him to the floor quite well.

Then Steve's eyes cleared, returning to their original state, and he had a surprised look on his face. "I... did that?" he asked.

Monica patted him on the shoulder. "Matter of fact, ya did. Now, let Brandon go, 'kay?"

Steve shook his head as if it were covered in cobwebs, then Brandon felt the mud slip away from him. He stood up and put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Good work, Muck, you did great on your first try."

"How did I do that? I just... I felt so much power coming out of me. How'd I do that?"

Monica said, "There are times when our powers get a little out of hand, and it feels like someone or something else is taking control of us. I had that problem when I first got my powers, too. Sometimes, I'd be able to use my powers perfectly, and sometimes I'd be completely out of control. If you ever saw the news, there was this one time where I... uh... well..."

Brandon lightly punched her on the arm. "C'mon, Monica, tell him!"

She groaned. "Alright. I blew up the back of a truck full of Kibbles 'n' Bits." She waited a second before adding. "But I never hurt the driver, or anybody else. I just made a big mess in the middle of Seventy-Third Street."

Colin walked up to them, making several cubes rotate around himself. "Well, if you guys are done, let's get topside. I'm hungry."

Brandon nodded. "Right." He turned toward the observation window on the far side of the room. "Korra, Pete! Shut off the simulation!"

All around them, panels fluctuated and changed color, things changed. The large hole that Brandon had created with his powers completely disappeared, as if it had never even been there (because, in fact, it hadn't), and a solid floor appeared in its place. Brandon saw Steve's face, the look of sheer amazement.

"Holograms," he said, drawing Steve's attention, "whoever's bankrolling us has access to some pretty advanced military technology. The government's been using holograms for years now without telling the public." He started toward the door. "Hang out with us long enough, you'll see plenty of cool crap!"

***

I sat on a bench, and ate my meal in peace. Peter was busy eating with Colin and Brandon, and Monica ate in her bedroom more often than note. She said it reminded her of home, because she and her aunt rarely ever ate together. I personally think it has something to do with her not wanting to accidentally blow us all up in case her powers ever go out of control, which she says they still do every so often.

A sandwich. A penut butter and jelly on wheat bread sandwich. That's what I was eating. A simple sandwich, but a delicious sandwich nonetheless. I had a habit of asking Colin to make them for me, because he always made a big show of using his powers instead of his hands. It was always fun.

Steve walked outside with a tray full of food and sat down next to me. I must have had a weird look on my face, because he laughed a little and said, "I haven't had real food in years. I've been homeless ever since my parents got divorced and left me on the streets. Neither one of them wanted me, so I just got left behind."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. "Nah, it's okay. I managed to stay one step ahead of all the gangs, so I never got raped or anything. The weirdest part of that experience was going to sleep a girl and waking up a boy."

I nodded. "I know how that feels. I ended up the other way, because I was a boy who turned into a girl, but that weird part of being a Chosen, the part that for some reason means we need to be the opposite gender, well, it's weird." Wow, For some reason I had trouble deciding what to say! Wonder what the hell that was all about. Well, besides the fact that I thought Steve was kinda cute. Who can blame me? I've been a girl for over a month, female hormones were kicking in.

"So, um... have your powers ever, y'know, gotten out of control?" he asked.

I gave it a second, then answered, "Well, not exactly out of control, but, when I changed, my powers weren't exactly under my control. I was turning out lamps and street lights, and I accidentally drained all the electricity from an electronics store. They still haven't reopened, actually..."

"So, you've caused some minor damage, too?"

I nodded. "What exactly did you do?"

"I..." He shut his mouth again. "When I stopped that guy robbing the liquor store, there was this old couple behind me. When I turned around, I saw them sinking into the sidewalk. Nobody else saw it, thankfully, and I didn't tell the police. I didn't want to go to jail."

"But, you turned yourself in, anyway."

"Yeah, but I knew they'd leave me in there if I'd told them. I... I'd heard about a super hero school by listening to people on the street, and I knew I needed that."

"You need to tell somebody what happened," I suggested.

He shook his head. "No. Otherwise... No, I'm not gonna do that."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Look, if Ms. Morris doesn't already know, I'm gonna havta tell her."

The tray of food in his hands started turning into a tray of mud. "Why?!" He threw it at the wall. "You can't do that, it'll be bad for me!"

I stood up. "Because it's the right thing, Steve."

His eyes turned white. "No!" I backed away from him and put up what I liked to call a polarity wall, a shield made entirely of electricity. It didn't take long for the guys to notice, and then Brandon was lifting up the ground that I was standing on.

"Steve! Stop!" Brandon shouted. Colin lifted up the bench. "What the hell's the matter with you?!"

Steve's eyes returned to normal, and then he whispered something, turned, and ran.

"What the hell was that?" Colin asked.

I dropped my polarity wall and whispered, "I don't know."

***

Gustav told his driver to stop the car in front of the young man who was running from the large house in the Hills. He rolled down his window and said to the young man, "Stop running, Steven." The kid stopped and gave him a look. "Get in the car." He opened the door and waited for the boy to get in, then shut the door and instructed the driver to get a move on. "It's nice to meet you, Steven." He held out his hand but the boy didn't shake hands with him. "Fine, I'll get straight to the point."

Steven sat forward. "The point is that I'm trying to get away from - "

"From Erica Morris and her little band of X-Men, yes, I know."

"X-Men? Isn't that a movie?"

Gustav smirked and nodded his head. "Just a few months ago, your kind would have been classified as purely the stuff of comic books, so I don't think that's a judgment you can truly make." The boy didn't say anything to that. "I'm offering you a job, Steven. I'll ask you to do various tasks, and one of them will eventually be to destroy that house that you just ran away from."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because I know what you just went through."

"How could you know that?"

He smiled again. "My ability is seeing the future." It was a lie, but the boy would never know the truth. After he used him to destroy Richardson, he was going to kill the kid anyway, that was a simple fact. Well, maybe he'd let someone else do the job, just to stay away from it personally. Either way, this was the kid's last day on Earth.

***

And you're certain you can't find him? Ms. Morris asked Brandon as we all stood around the rec room. He's on foot, he shouldn't have been able to get very far.

Brandon shrugged. "We can't find him. Peter swept a sixteen mile radius in less than ten minutes, and he couldn't even find a trace of any weird mud anywhere."

Then we have to assume that someone else intercepted him. I'll be in contact with our friend, and we'll learn any reports from the ECPD. In the mean time, go about your chores and your classes. We'll learn something eventually.

As everyone else left the room, I stayed behind, curled up on the couch. Though she couldn't move, it was almost like Ms. Morris was right beside me, her arm around my shoulders. Probably some mental trick that I really appreciated, because I could use a parental hand on my shoulders right about now, and she'd do just fine considering my parents were off somewhere that I couldn't get in touch with them for the next week and a half. They did apologize for missing my birthday, though.

What's the matter, Korra?

"He seemed to be connecting with me, really well." I laughed. "That's kinda stupid, though, since he was only here for a day and a half."

No, it's not. Before we were Chosen, I had a relationship with a woman that I felt I could have spent the rest of my life with. That would have sounded weird to me if I didn't know she'd been a man before the Choosing. When she died in a car accident less than a week before the Choosing, I felt as though half of my soul had been ripped away from me. That relationship, it hadn't taken long to build, less than three days, and yet it had lasted a lifetime.

"So, you're saying, that I loved Steve?"

Not romantic love, perhaps, more of a sibling-like love, like you have with Colin and Brandon. Peter seems more your type, actually.

I rolled my eyes. "No, he's not. He's lightning fast and I shoot lightning out of my fingertips, we have nothing in common."

Well, that's not important right now. What is important, is that you need to head up the search for Steven.

"Why me?"

Because you had that connection. You need to take point on this, Korra.

I nodded, silently.

***

Keith Cabot sat at his desk and wondered exactly how he could nail Gustav Hammond when Charlie walked up to his desk and plopped down in the chair beside him. He looked over at her and saw a smile on her face, like she was in on a joke or something. "What is it?" he asked.

She held up her phone and pressed something on the touch screen. A recording started playing. "I've never been involved personally or professionally with Mr. Richardson, nor do I intend to."

"Yeah, so what?" he asked, a little more stress in his voice.

She held up a photo from her file folder. "I took this in Hammond's office the day Ms. Adamsen and I were sent to interview him."

He took the photo and practically glued his eyes to it. Big Mike himself, and The Roach Lacasto, both coming out of Hammond's office. "You've been sitting on these for that long?"

She shrugged. "The odds that they would have been taken seriously before now seemed pretty slim."

He grabbed her and kissed her on the cheek. "Kid, I love you, and your detective skills!"

She shrugged again. "My dad was a great cop. He told stories around the dinner table."

***

I grinded along the telephone and electrical wires as I travelled through town. I felt stupid doing this the way I was. Like I was gonna find anything just induction grinding (yes, that's my guidewire grinding move) my way around the city. If Steve was smart, he was a thousand miles away by now. How the hell was I gonna find him?

I jumped off the wires and landed on a rooftop, completely unsure of what to do. I looked down on the street and saw a line of police cars making their way through the streets, with a paddy wagon in the middle of them. I stood there, about to give up, when I looked ahead of the cop cars and saw Steve standing in front of them, his hands stretched outward.

Somehow, I'd found him, without even trying. Good work, Korra, you've just stumbled upon your objective.

I jumped back onto the wires and grinded toward Steve, then jumped on the hood of the lead cop car. Steve noticed me, and then I felt myself sinking into the hood of the cop car. I jumped out of the muck and started hovering in front of him.

"Stop this, Steve," I said, a determination in my voice that I don't think I've heard myself ever have. "Stop it, and come back."

He didn't say anything. Instead, he turned the two lead cop cars into mud and threw them at me. I jumped out of the way and leapt up onto a bus stop, which started turning into mud seconds later, causing me to jump away from that. He's been gone for three hours and he somehow has this much control over his powers now? What the hell?!

I landed on the street this time, completely uncomfortable because he already had plenty of experience turning asphalt into mud. Instead of waiting for him to make a move, I fired some electric bolts at his feet, to knock him off balance. He responded by turning a couple more cars into mud and throwing them at me.

I rolled out of the way, onto the sidewalk, jumped up, and grabbed the nearest window ledge. I had just enough time before another mud car hit the wall to jump up to another window ledge, and then another, and then I was on the roof of the building. I spun around and saw Steve there, somehow using a mud fountain (or something resembling a mud fountain) to lift himself up into the air. It was then that I got my first good look at him throughout this whole one-sided fight.

His eyes were solid white.

He couldn't control himself. That's what he told me, that he wasn't in complete control of his powers, and that he'd lost control once. He wasn't in control. His power was controlling him! How could I fight him like this?

The answer was obvious, I had to defend myself. I created a couple of my lightning grenades and threw them at his fountain, causing him to fall to the street below. After that, I jumped down from the roof and landed beside him. I used a trick that I'd developed thanks to Peter, called the arc restraint. I used electricity to restrain him, sticking him to the street.

"Steve, this isn't you, come back to your senses!"

Instead of answering me with words, he answered me by opening his eyes and causing mud to grab me by the throat. I fell backward as the mud pulled me down to the street. I gripped at my throat, trying to stop the muck from choking me, but I couldn't do anything to stop it.

A gunshot rang out, disrupting Steve's concentration, or something, because I was suddenly free of the muddy death hand gripping at my throat. I looked toward the sound of the gunshot and saw a cop standing there, aiming at both Steve and I. I held up my hands. "I'm okay, I'm fine!"

"Shut up!" the cop shouted, taking a step toward me. I kept my hands up. "Just stop moving, freak!"

"Hey, I'm the good guy - er, well, girl! I came here to stop him!"

"I said, shut up!" He looked like he was about to say something else, but he was suddenly swallowed up in a torrent of mud. It took me a second to realize that he had been turned into the mud. I looked back over at Steve and saw him standing again. The gunshot must have broken my concentration, too. I rolled out of the way just in time to escape the flying human piece of mud that Steve had just hurled toward me and tackled him to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," I said, placing my hand on his face.

I don't know how I knew about this move, I just did. I'd never used it before. I called it the bio leech. I used the static electricity latent in both our bodies to draw bioelectricity from him into me. It didn't take long, just a few seconds, but it felt like it lasted lifetimes. As his lifeforce drained from him, I realized that his bioelectricity wasn't the only thing that I was draining. I saw things, memories, a man in a limosuine, photos of another man...

Steve purposefully turning the ground beneath that couple into mud. They weren't old, and they weren't some random couple.

They were his parents.

As the last of his life transferred from him into me, I fell backwards, onto my butt. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. Why had I done that? Why had I killed those people? What was wrong with me?

No! Not me! Steve! Those were his memories, not mine.

I stood up and made my way to the paddy wagon. I didn't realize that at some point, the other cop cars escorting the wagon had been turned into mud. That poor cop that I - that Steve - had turned into mud and thrown at me was probably the one driving the wagon. I opened the door of the wagon and found that it was completely empty. Big Mike Richardson (where had I learned that name from?) wasn't in the wagon, like Mr. Hammond (who?) had said. Lying son of a bitch (why was I saying that?).

I climbed a telephone pole and slid back onto the wires. I had to get back to Ms. Morris and tell her what had happened. Tell her that Steve was in a different place now.

Probably a worse place.

***

THE NEXT DAY:

Gustav smiled as he read the newspaper.

"MICHAEL 'BIG MIKE' RICHARDSON FOUND DEAD IN CELL!"

He had paid good money to get Richardson's cellmate to shiv the man the first chance he had. Using the boy to attack the police cars escorting the empty paddy wagon was just a great way to use the distraction as a distraction. The police thought that Richardson's enemies would fall for the bait of a very public police convoy, so he had the convoy attacked, to make them think that the bait was sold. It was perfect.

He leaned back in his chair and tapped off the ashes from his cigar. Richardson's 'evidence' would never come to light, He was home free.

The intercom buzzed. "Mr. Hammond, Captain Montoya of the ECPD and several of her officers just stepped out of the elevator. They're on their way to your office."

What?!

Not two seconds later, the door burst open, three officers were at his desk in less time than it took to blink. Captain Montoya strode triumphantly toward him as her officers placed him in handcuffs. "Gustav Hammond, you're under arrest for conspiring with a known felon, and suspicion in the death of a known felon."

He scowled. "What proof do you have, detective?"

"Captain, buddy. And we just happen to have photographic proof of you meeting with Mike Richardson, and after we showed him the proof, Richardson's cellmate squealed till he was blue in the face that a man working for Gustav Hammond showed up in the penitentiary ready to pay him big bucks to shiv Richardson." She smiled. "The proof alone gets you twenty-five to life. If the cellmate pans out, you've probably got at least three life sentences to serve."

Hammond scowled.

***

William Brand looked out the window at the fourteen year old girl sitting alone on a bench in the garden. "And the side-effects?" he asked.

So far, Mr. Hobbs' memories have planted themselves firmly in her brain. She has memories of Gustav Hammond hiring Steven to kill Michael Richardson.

"If only memories could help the case against him. Good thing there's enough evidence agaist Gustav already." He took a sip of his brandy. "Anything else?"

She woke up with mud covering her bed this morning. I think Steven's gifts transferred to her as well. I can't be sure of anything, though.

"She can absorb abilities? She sounds even more unique than I thought she already was."

It could be, but that aspect of her gifts could be more like a curse to her. Suppose she accidentally absorbs the abilities of multiple Chosen. Not only would they be dead, she'd have their memories as well. She's already being torn apart by Steven's memories running through her head, any more could overload her mind.

"What do you suggest, Erica?"

I don't know. There might not be anything we can do.

Brand took another sip from his glass. He'd have to keep a close eye on her.

***

I looked down at my hands and created an arc of lightning between them. I then closed my eyes and reopened them to find the arc of lightning was suddenly a geyser of mud. How was I doing that? I closed my eyes again, reopened them, and saw that the mud was lightning again. I hated that.

"What'sa matter, Korra?" someone beside me asked. I looked to my left and saw Steve sitting there.

"How - " I started to say, but he cut me off.

"I'm not real, obviously. I'm a memory, like the ones you took from me."

"Why?"

"Call me a ghost, Kor, because I'll always be here with you."

I stood up and backed away from the bench. Steve was suddenly gone. I saw the bench disintegrate into mud.

I was scared out of my mind.