Part Nine

Vic was trying something she had read about once. Starting a little less than an hour before class, with only a worried Michelle present, she climbed nimbly to the top of one of the basketball goals. Vic paused for a moment, balanced easily on the balls of her bare feet, eyes closed, at one end of the backboard. She had learned from a trial that the rim wasn't stiff or strong enough for what she wanted. Largely because of the flexible attachment.

She let herself fall forward, then pushed off and dove headfirst towards the hardwood floor. Eyes still closed.

Vic was completely relaxed until her sense of perception told her she was the right distance from the floor. Then she deftly flipped over, landing on the balls of her feet, using everything from her toes to her hips to take the shock. There was only a slight sound on contact.

"I hope you're happy with that," said Michelle, anxiously, as Vic straightened, smiling, "'cause I'm not letting you do it again!"

"It was fine," said Vic, who was actually pleased with her performance. "Okay, let's get ready for class."

* * *

"What's wrong, hon?" asked Michelle, as she watched her wife try to discreetly rearrange her rather modest, one-piece swimsuit.

"This is the first time I've been to a beach since I changed," said Vic, looking very uncomfortable and speaking in a hushed tone. "I've got sand in places which didn't used to be places!"

Michelle actually laughed out loud, which did not comfort Vic. Some of the other beachgoers glanced at her, but she was not the only person there who was laughing occasionally.

"I mean, I've been swimming," said Vic, in a low mutter, "but sand!"

"Surely boys get sand in their suits, too," said Michelle, still smirking.

"Yeah, but their places are... smaller."

Michelle laughed again.

"Well, I'm going back in the water. I haven't been swimming in the ocean before and am going to make the most of it."

Michelle left Vic muttering irritably as she ran back into the water. The muttering quickly stopped, as Vic was distracted by what the running did to her wife's anatomy. The martial artist super was still intently watching Michelle when someone sat beside her.

Vic was mildly annoyed, in part because she had allowed herself to become so distracted that this guy had come up to her without her noticing. Wait, guy? Vic looked around and saw this was, indeed, a guy. Which, for some reason, she found a bit confusing.

"Hello," she said, tone neutral.

"Hello," he said, smiling. "I'm Private Eugene Sanderson. I've been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you and this seems like a good time."

Wait, was this guy hitting on her?!

"You see... We have a lot in common. Only, I was designated female at birth."

Vic did a quick reassessment of the situation. Especially her confusion over the person's physical gender. Some quirk of her sense of perception had probably been responsible for Vic having the initial impression that this was a woman. Only...

"Wait... were you changed due to a power?!"

"I wish!" Eugene said, with a wry laugh. "No, I mean I am genetically XX but am actually a guy."

He sighed.

"I envy you... so much. From the other direction, of course. I even tried to get a morphologist to make the change, but most can't do something permanent. Those who can, charge too much. So, it's surgery and hormones for me. It's working, though."

"Ah, I see," said Vic, nodding and feeling increasingly uncomfortable. "Well, I'm not an expert on transitioning. I literally woke up like this one morning. However, I can see that whoever did your surgery did a good job. There aren't even any noticeable scars."

"Yeah, they did good work. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you're an inspiration for me. I've even signed up for the Jennings Process."

"I just hope you don't get regeneration," said Vic, with a passion which surprised her.

"Why not?" said Private Sanderson, puzzled.

Vic was amazed he didn't already know. She took a moment to phrase her next comment as diplomatically as she could manage.

"Because that would heal you to what your genes say you should be."

Sanderson paled under his tan.

"Oh, God... I didn't think of that."

"Regeneration is rare," said Vic, quickly. "From what I understand about the Jennings Process it mostly gives people physical augmentation. Making them stronger, faster, tougher and so forth."

"Major Lee has those. He also has regeneration."

"No, he has rapid healing."

"What's the difference?" said the Private, confused.

"Rapid healing is like regular healing, only faster and more thorough," said Vic, surprised that this was something else Eugene didn't already know. "That's why he has a few scars. With regeneration you don't have scars. Your age generally stabilizes, too. Also, some regeneration works outside biological limits. For example, Tiger doesn't need to eat nearly as much mass as he heals."

"I'll have to think about this," said Sanderson, quietly.

"Do yourself a big favor," said Vic, emphatically. "Research powers in general and what the Jennings Process does specifically."

Private Sanderson nodded thoughtfully, then rose and walked slowly away. Moments later, Michelle returned.

"You got a new boyfriend?" she teased.

"Tell you about it later," said Vic, feeling oddly tired.

* * *

Vic, of course, trained in more ways than simply teaching classes. Unfortunately, some of her favorite ways of keeping in shape were not practical - or safe - on the island. Going rooftop to rooftop - as she had at college - would not work, because most of the roofs on the island were in bad shape and there were often large gaps between buildings.

Vic's current athletic shoes had high-traction soles, thanks to the Bureau's tame mad scientists. Like rock climbing shoes, they wore out more quickly than standard running shoes, but she got them free from the Bureau. She had brought three pair with her, two of them new.

Just now, she was using the barely-broken-in first pair as she went from branch to branch through the trees in the gone-wild former park near the hotel. Some of the trees in the developed areas of the island were original plantings or their descendants, and grew in parks and beside roads and around buildings; that is, where trees were planned to grow. Others were volunteers, growing wherever a seed had taken root, often in what had been intended to be open lawns. Vic would have preferred to run along power or phone lines - something she had done before in developed areas - but here all the utilities were installed underground. Which Vic understood had caused problems for those trying to repair them, especially since many of the tunnels the wiring needed were flooded. So, through the trees she went, with occasional forays across low roofs which she had previously tested or were on refurbished structures.

Finally, her rather gymnastic workout completed, Vic headed back to the hotel suite to shower before her first class of the day.

Vic discovered that Michelle had already showered and applied makeup.

"Mmmm, you smell good," said Vic, leaning in to sniff her wife.

"I raided the storeroom behind the perfume counter on the second floor," said Michelle, smiling. "They had boxes and boxes of unopened bottles of some pretty expensive stuff, just sitting there, going to waste."

"Just be careful about what you try to take home," said Vic, concerned. "You don't want trouble with customs."

"Which is why I will ship stuff. I've already confirmed that there's a boat which goes between here and the mainland four times a week. They do things like UPS pickup. You just have to arrange it beforehand. Fortunately, despite being so physically isolated, this place has good Internet. So making the arrangements is not a problem. Besides, I'm shipping stuff like that to Curl Up and Dye, and labeling it as personal grooming and cosmetic products. My boss has already okayed this, and will get a cut for her business."

"Just... be careful," said Vic, trying to be diplomatic. "I'm aware of your - Ahem! - acquisitive nature."

"Hey, I grew up poor," said Michelle, defensively. "I have an instinctive drive to take advantage of such situations."

"Just don't let that instinct lure you into a dangerous building."

"Don't worry. My sense of self-preservation is also very well developed. Meanwhile, you don't smell so good. Go and get your shower."

* * *

That afternoon, the second class of the day over, Vic made a point of looking over the storage area at the hotel. Partially because she was inspired by Michelle, and partly because someone mentioned - after class - that there were musical instruments there. She focused on the section for items which had been found and designated valuable, but for which owners could not be identified. There were, indeed, several musical instruments in that group.

Vic quickly found a wonderful guitar among those instruments. It was made of Central American "quilted" mahogany on the sides and back, and had a spruce top. Despite her words of caution to Michelle about being greedy, Vic took it. It seemed to call to her.

She didn't just take the guitar, however. Vic first tried it out. Fortunately, it had been put away with the strings slack. After considerable tuning and a long warmup, Vic tried "Eugene's Trick Bag". This complicated piece wasn't as successful as she had hoped. After a bit more tuning and some practice, Vic played the tune to her satisfaction.

"What a magnificent instrument," Vic whispered.

She put the guitar back into its rather plain but sturdy case and took it to her and Michelle's suite.

* * *

"I had to volunteer," Vic muttered, as she peddled slowly through her assigned area.

Vic's bike had flashing lights and a siren and saddlebags like police bicycles... as well as some much less standard equipment, thanks to the Bureau and - before that - the gadgeteers at her college. Michelle referred to it as "the vicious cycle." Just now, though, it was serving strictly as transportation.

Three members of T.O.W.E.R. were missing. They had not returned from a mutual time off, and were all three known to be among those who scavenged vehicles. Vic had agreed to help check one of the areas of the island where they might have gone. Her assignment covered some of the currently more decrepit parts of the island's development; subdivisions where employees who worked at resort facilities were intended to live, but where homes and dormitories had mostly been left unfinished due to the resort never being completed. The roads were in especially terrible shape, here, hence the need for Vic and her all-terrain bicycle. She was also in her armor, since the helmet had both an amplifier for her calls out and audio filters to emphasize human voices coming in. That included cries for help. As she worked Vic could occasionally hear reports from other teams over her helmet radio.

Making matters worse, the pool of potential searchers had been greatly reduced by an outbreak of food poisoning! Vic was glad that her regeneration had kept her healthy in spite of the mystery illness, and that Michelle preferred cooked vegetables. The vector appeared to be the fresh, raw vegetables which Vic liked so much.

Vic had nearly completed her assigned sweep when a message came over the frequency reserved for the searchers.

"All those looking for the missing people, return to base immediately!"

There was no explanation. From the tone of voice Vic doubted the recall was due to the missing personnel being found. Perhaps there was some other emergency which the men and women were needed for. Vic sighed and changed course. The thought that Michelle might be in danger made her put extra effort into the peddling.

Once back at the mustering area, at the UN headquarters building, Vic was given the bad news by Major Lee, himself. Although assigned to T.O.W.E.R. he was still UN and the ranking officer on the island who remained functional in spite of the illness sweeping through the personnel.

"The hotel was attacked by some sort of paramilitary force while the search parties were out looking," said the Major, his face expressionless. "This timing was apparently deliberate. The guilty party, whoever they are, waited until our forces were divided and hit the weakest part, and took a large part of the T.O.W.E.R. and general UN staff there prisoner. Several of our people were injured, though fortunately none seriously. Most of those taken were under the weather from the food poisoning, including Commander Walters. This was also likely deliberate. Sick people would be easier to handle. We were left a message that the captured individuals were being held to guarantee our good behavior. That they would be released, unharmed, when the kidnappers were ready to leave. Your wife, unfortunately, was one of the people taken."

Vic took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She felt... numb. Partly because she had somehow been expecting bad news connected with Michelle since the recall message.

"How likely are these people to keep their word?" she asked, after taking a moment to gather herself.

"Unknown. Though they did seem to want to avoid casualties in their raid."

"Just how bad is this illness? How many are still able-bodied?"

"Fewer than a hundred are combat capable. Most of those will be assigned to guarding our facilities. We've sent word to the UN, but the island is quarantined until further notice. Even the people who were already off the island, many of them dealing with disease outbreaks on the continent, will be vectored to other bases when they are scheduled to return. The high-ups at the UN are worried that now that this disease is in the population here it might be transmitted person to person."

"What does Captain Spaulding have to say?"

"I was just on my way over to the infirmary to speak with her. You can come along."