The following is a work of fiction created and written by Jim Robert Bader, with ideas and suggestions provided by my good friends, Bill Guiroff and Kate Norcross (the REAL-life Katie). No other persons living or dead are intended to be reflected here (save for purposes of obvious parody and/or social commentary), and any resemblance to other creations of popular fiction are purely coincidental. This property is the work of Jim Robert Bader and is a rough draft copy, to be revised and altered should I one day find a friendly publisher willing to help me out. It is presented here for the express purpose of gaining friendly recognition and/or creative commentary and may not be duplicated or published elsewhere without express permission of the author. Mar-Sa The Ultra-Girl Book One/Part Two The Girl of Tungsten Steel by Jim Robert Bader September 4, 2001 (First Copyrights Only) 00000000 000 000 000 vvvvvvv 000 000VVVVVVVVVVVVVV000 000 VVVVVVVVVV 000 000 VVVVVV 000 000 VVVV 000 000 VV 000 00000000 Mar-Sa, The Ultra-Girl by Jim Robert Bader Book One/Part Two The Girl of Tungsten Steel Chapter Twelve. Paradise The tall blond man surveyed the property with a jaundiced eye and dryly remarked, "Well, Katie won't much like what this will do to her property and insurance rates. Looks like the proverbial tornado tore out of here and left no note behind for the cleaning lady." "Sir," Brookhurst replied, "I know this looks bad, but..." "But what, Major?" the blond man inquired, "I am disappointed. I had thought your people first rate, but to allow a wandering vagrant and a psychotic trucker to step in and mess things up this thoroughly..." "Ah...well,." Brookhurst studied the ruins of the front entryway to the expensive looking townhouse with its door literally blown off the hinges and other remnants indicating that someone had exited in a great hurry and then the burly man winced slightly, "I won't make excuses, Mr. Ariel, but I thought my people had the area contained, and I don't know how that Daniels guy managed to walk right past everybody. As for the stalker...he was a bit of fluke for us..." "A fluke," Ariel repeated, "I should think it meant a lot more than that to poor Ms. Winters. It is only by the grace of the heavens that she appears to have survived this debacle, which is a good thing for both of us as I would detest having to be the one to have to explain things to my Lady Catherine, after which---I assure you---you would be doing the explaining." "Um...right," Brookhurst acknowledged, not liking the implications of that one bit. "Well, there's no sense crying over soured milk," Ariel sighed, "Of course this will be in my report to my superior. And now, due to the carelessness of your operation, we have lost containment of this situation, perhaps irretrievably, as well as our knowledge of the alien's whereabouts, which means it will be that much harder for us to track her future movements." "My people are working on that right now, Sir," Brookhurst assured him, "We managed to track their descent down somewhere over the pacific before losing contact altogether..." "Oh yes, that narrows it down to several hundred possible island locations scattered over a few thousand square kilometers of ocean," the golden haired man said with dry British aplomb, "That should simplify matters a bit." "Hey, my people are good, we'll find her," Brookhurst replied, refusing to take umbrage at the low-key sarcasm of the other man, "You can tell Mister Richardson that we'll have contact reestablished within a matter of a few days at most, and then we'll maintain surveillance until the alien establishes herself in a more secure location." "That may not be as simple a matter as you suspect, Major," Ariel replied, "This alien not only knows how to fly, but she is guided by a young lady of remarkable resourcefulness. In fact, we are reevaluating the nature of this operation and may elect to take an even more hands-off approach than has so far been observed." "I don't follow you, Sir." "We believe that containment may not be the best solution for our problem, Major," Ariel explained, "In fact, given the nature of the alien's behavior since her arrival almost a week ago, we now believe that her presence should be managed through less direct means since there is a definite likelihood that her existence will shortly be made known to the general public." "Sir, if you're worried about that reporter..." Brookhurst started to say. "Leave Shepherd alone for now," Ariel urged, "In fact, Mr. Richardson has taken an interest in furthering his career. He may well prove to be a more valuable asset given a higher level position and increased visibility. Given his already demonstrated predilections, I would dare say that he will be even more relentless in pursuing this story than any agent we might assign to this case, and if he manages somehow to establish personal contact with the alien herself..." "I follow you," Brookhurst smiled and nodded, "Use a minnow to catch a whale. But what exactly are we preparing to do if the alien does go public?" "Sit back and watch as things happen," Ariel replied, "We will only intervene directly when and where it seems to be the appropriate time to do so. In the meantime I trust you will do your best to manage things on your end. Have this place cleaned up and restored to as much of a state of normalcy as you can manage, once Forensics has run some tests and obtained the necessary samples. I will see to it that there is no interference from local law enforcement and make the necessary arrangement with whatever agencies we must involve to maintain surveillance over this area." "Sir," Brookhurst noted soberly, "You know the opposition isn't going to be too thrilled by these developments. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me at all if they take steps to stir up trouble..." "Then do what you can and I'll have other people run interference for you in the meantime," Ariel just as soberly informed him. "And...what about the owner?" Brookhurst nodded to the townhouse in general. Ariel merely glanced about the place, then his hand moved in a flash and something shot from his fingers to imbed itself in the distant wall next to a hanging picture. He turned away and said, "Leave that where it is. Katie will know when she sees it. Otherwise...make it seem as if nothing out of the ordinary has been happening here the past few days, and if you need me at all, then I will be contacting you. In the meantime, I have our other anomaly to investigate, and our young Mr. Daniels is, if anything, even more elusive than our golden girl. So, a good day to you, Major." "Sure thing," Brookhurst replied, studying the object sticking out from the far wall before nodding to himself and saying, "Remind me never to play Poker with that guy, he throws a mean set of aces..." Mark paused and glanced around, then said aloud, "You sure this is the spot, 'Zak? There's a lot of beachfront property on this island..." **This Unit affirms location,** the probe droid at his side remarked, **Bioreadings conforming to subject Mar-Sa emanating from one-point-three Parlacs of current location...** "Mind translating that into English, Buddy?" Mark replied, "You make it sound like we're almost on top of her or something." **Affirmative,** the probe-droid replied, **In relative terms of measurement, subject Mar-Sa is within seventeen hundred meters South-by-North, eighteen degrees of solar position...** "Which would be...that way, huh?" Mark pointed in a rough approximate of these directions, "Well, here goes..." He accelerated once again and within seconds came to a halt roughly a mile away from his former position, pausing to look around with a mildly vexed, "Okay, big brain, where the heck is she...?" "Mark?" a familiar voice spoke up, "Is that you?" Mark almost jumped out of his skin as he turned around and found the very golden skinned woman in question laying out upon the sand virtually a foot away from where he had been standing. His discomfiture was made the more complete by the realization that the alien beauty was totally stark naked, her gleaming body fully exposed to the sun's rays so that he feared going blind just looking at her, marveling that he had not earlier seen the glow of her reflection. "Guh...Ah...Marsha?" he gasped, more than slightly flustered. "Mark...how did you find me here?" Mar-Sa asked as she sat upright and looked at her Earthly male counterpart, taking stock of the unusual form of dress that the man was wearing, "And...what is that you' are wearing?" "Oh, this?" Mark tried not to stammer as his eyes were glued to the radiant beauty of both Mar-Sa and those beautiful mounds that were projecting from her chest in full metallic glory, "Ah...it's my working suit...I mean, my costume...ahh, you like it?" "I...suppose," Mar-Sa said somewhat diplomatically as she studied the man's body-tight uniform, which vaguely reminded her of something a Wolframan male might wear back home, but with a garish color scheme that loudly assaulted the eyes with a rainbow of hideously contrasting colors. Just then another figure came wading out from the surf with her prize triumphantly presented wiggling at the end of a carved stick, only to halt in her tracks as she took in the stranger standing close to HER Mar-Sa, at which point Phoebe Winters cried, "Hey! Who the heck are...?" "Huh?" Mark tore his eyes away from the living statue strewn out attractively at his feet and took in another beauty, this time of more earthly origins, yet who was just as naked as Mar-Sa, to whom he could only blurt out a stammered, "Hah?" "You heard me, Bub!" Phoebe angrily stalked forward, her coveted prize almost forgotten in her hands as she moved up to the taller man, heedless of her state of undress, and demanded, "Who are you and what are you doing drooling all over Marsha?" "Phoebe," Mar-Sa said with a nod, "I'd like for you to meet Mark Daniels." "Mark...Daniels?" Phoebe's eyes got very round as she turned and looked from Mar-Sa to the walking four-color fashion disaster, "You mean...the guy you...?" "Ah...could you hold that thought a minute?" Mark said as he forced himself to turn away and look at the pounding surf rather than at the two naked women, "In fact, I'll be right back. 'Zak, a little help here?" All at once the man's outline became a blur, and a wind was kicked up as Mark Daniels vanished utterly from the coastline. There was a pause before Phoebe managed to say, "What...?" "Don't look at me," Mar-Sa shrugged, "I didn't even know that he could do that." Phoebe turned and looked at her companion once again before asking, "Friend of yours?" "In a manner of speaking," Mar-Sa replied, "Mark is the one that the Probe-Droid sent by Kar-Tor contacted...and it would appear that the two of them have somehow become linked together in the odd manner of a partnership. He found me at your place just a few moments before you were attacked and we...had a discussion..." "Wait a minute," Phoebe frowned, "You let him into our house?" "Ah...well..." Mar-Sa began to awkwardly respond. "In other words," Phoebe arched her voice distinctly, "While I was having my guts knifed out, you were back having a guy over at our place?" "Er...well...when you phrase it like that..." Mar-Sa winced. "Like, how should I phrase it, huh?" Phoebe scowled, "And just what were you two talking about anyway?" "Ah..." Mar-Sa began to say when another rush of air heralded the return of both the probe and Mark Daniels. "Here," he said as he quickly tossed a pair of objects to them, "Put these on...for my sake, okay?" "Um...excuse me?" Mar-Sa asked as she unfolded the bundle that she had been handed, determining with some difficulty that it was a type of lingerie consisting of a several patches of cloth connected together by strings. "Bikinis?" Phoebe asked, examining her own before saying, "Just where the heck did you...?" "They're not stolen or anything like that," Mark replied with his back firmly turned to the two women, "I paid the shop owner good money, so...consider them my way of apologizing for intruding." Phoebe gave the man's backside a hard study before saying, "Can't handle the sight of a naked woman?" "I just thought it would be...more appropriate this way," Mark replied, "So sue me." "I believe that this is what is called gentlemanly conduct, Phoebe," Mar-Sa noted, "Perhaps it would be rude not to accept these..." "All right," Phoebe allowed, "But don't try and pretend that you weren't enjoying the peep-show, Mister. I saw you looking, and that thing you're wearing doesn't conceal that much..." "Well hey," Mark shrugged, "I'm only human." "Right," Phoebe said as she slipped on her bikini bottoms and top, fastening the latches with the ease of long practice, "A little too human, and what's with that get-up you're wearing? You planning on attending a convention or a costume party?" "Actually, this is my superhero identity," Mark replied, "I call myself Action." "Action?" Mar-Sa repeated. "Well hey," Mark shrugged, "All the better names are taken. Besides, I kind of like it." "You would," Phoebe grunted as she finished adjusting her top then turned to see the trouble that Mar-Sa was having which prompted her to say, "Marsha...what are you doing?" "Um...copying you?" Mar-Sa asked hopefully as she silently admitted that she was not being too successful. "The top part goes on the chest, the bottom part...never mind," Phoebe sighed, "Let me help you do that." "Okay," Mar-Sa replied then submitted herself to having Phoebe tie her suit into place, thinking all the while that it really did not conceal very much. "Okay, it's safe to look now," Phoebe informed their male companion, "We're decent." "I sure hope so," Mark said as he slowly turned around, then began to sigh slightly, realizing that the golden woman was still little better than naked, and the way she gleamed in the sunlight made him want to go fetch a pair of sunshades, but at least now he didn't feel as awkward about ogling her body, "Sorry, I didn't think it'd be a problem, my finding you here on this island. It was 'Zak who gave me the directions and helped me transport here or it might have taken me a few days to check out every island in the whole Pacific. Um...excuse me for asking this, but...weren't you dead?" "I got better," Phoebe responded, "Thanks to Marsha. Now...how exactly did you get out here?" "Ah, well," Mark started to say, "Would you believe that I ran part of the way and flew the rest?" "Flying?" Mar-Sa asked with upraised golden eyebrows. "Ran?" Phoebe said blankly. "Sure," Mark answered, "It comes as part of the package with all the changes that 'Zak's brought about to my life. When we met the first thing he did was probe me for every bit of data he could scan, then he decided I wasn't very well put together by his standards, so he decided to make a few changes..." "A few...changes?" Phoebe asked with a look of disquiet. "Nothing too drastic," Mark replied, "He just made me stronger, faster, better and gave me all sorts of neat abilities that I've been learning to use on the road..." "What abilities?" Mar-Sa asked as she studied the man's handsome profile. "Well," Mark sighed, "It's like with you, Marsha. You found out when you got here that you got all these really neat abilities on account of the sun being so much brighter than on your world..." "Yes," Mar-Sa replied, "Your sun has approximately one thousand times more of the output of Biosolar energy that my people draw upon through our enlarged pineal glands to convert into physical and spiritual power. The cells in my body store this power like a battery and I can draw upon it for all manner of uses, such as to levitate objects or to bolster my physical strength a thousandfold..." "Right," Mark nodded, "Well, with me it's more like the cells in my body have been rearranged somehow so that I can move hundreds of times faster than a normal guy, even break the sound barrier on land, and I don't even get tired doing this, like the fatigue poisons are filtered out of my system. I can also do stuff thanks to 'Zak here that I think are pretty neat." "Stuff?" Phoebe asked, "What stuff?" Mark stretched out a hand and pointed at an empty stretch of sand, then all at once a flash of light lanced out from the tip of his fingers, fusing the sand into glass in the spot where he was pointing. "Whoah!" Phoebe said, taking new stock of the fellow in the garishly colorful costume. "That's nothing," Mark smiled, "Watch this." He made another gesture with that hand and the fused block of glass rose up into the air, turning molten and quite fluid before their eyes as it rearranged itself into the shape of winged gull, complete with foundation. "You are controlling the molecules?" Mar-Sa asked as she stood up to better examine the process. "Actually, 'Zak's doing all the work," Mark replied, "I'm just mentally feeding him directions." "'Zak?" Phoebe responded. "I call him Isaac," Mark replied as he caused the glass figuring to float into his hands, then he turned and presented it to the women beside him, "Don't worry if you can't see him, he's invisible to most people." "A standard cloaking field," Mar-Sa nodded then said, "Unit 1138, please allow Phoebe here to see you." "As you command, Apprentice Mar-Sa," a curiosity disembodied voice replied, startling Phoebe until the outlines of the probe gave way to a full revelation. Phoebe stared at what looked like a hovering top, roughly a meter tall and about half that in diameter, consisting of various geometrically shaped objects stuck together in a symmetrical arrangement, and complete with a pair of spiking antennae projecting from the top, reminding her rather much of something that she had once seen in an old Science Fiction program. "What...?" she asked numbly. "Unit 1138 is a probe-droid from my home world, Phoebe," Mar-Sa replied, "My people use them for extra-planetary exploration of our home solar system. They are designed to seek out and analyze valuable resources that we mine from the asteroids and other planets that orbit our sun. It's because of them that our civilization has yet to collapse from the exhaustion of our planetary resources." "This Unit was modified by the creator for the purpose of conducting research upon subject world designated Terra-Sol Three," the probe replied mechanistically, "This unit...encountered difficulties upon entering the Terran atmosphere and was partially disabled. This unit has compensated by forming a link with subject Mark Daniels..." "Yeah, though you could have asked first before you started tinkering around with my genetics," Mark dryly noted, "Not that I'm complaining now because it's been a real kick the last week or so..." "Just how extensive have these modifications been?" Mar-Sa asked, "And what kind of damages did you sustain, Unit 1138?" "This Unit is operating within sixty-three percent of operational capacity," the probe replied, "But if Apprentice Mar-Sa would care to examine this Unit, her assistance would be...appreciated." "Wow," Phoebe remarked, "That voice is sure weird, but he almost sounds...human..." "Yeah, but it's getting him to shut up that's half the problem," Mark said wryly. "This Unit does not see the relevance of this comparison," the Probe remarked in slightly wounded tones that suggested it was offended, "This Unit was created to serve humans, but this one is in many ways functionally superior..." "Unit 1138," Mar-Sa said with a lilt of amusement evident in her own tone, "I would be delighted to examine you...but...unfortunately, I don't have any tools on hand..." "No problem," Mark said, "Just describe what you need and 'Zak and me'll provide it." "There may be a problem with that," Mar-Sa said, "A probe can alter molecular arrangements, but creating elements is another matter, and we don't have anything metal on hand." "This Unit will...adapt," the probe replied, "There is a mineral strain approximately 112.2 Yurlacs of current position...it should provide adequate resources." "Then what are we waiting for?" Phoebe asked, "Let's get down to it so Marsha here can find out how you're put together." "I am especially interested in knowing what type of AI unit Kar-Tor installed into your matrix," Mar-Sa mused aloud, "It seems that in a week's time around Mark you have acquired the basis of a personality..." "This Unit does not intend to criticize Apprentice Third Class Mar-Sa," the probe responded, "But what is the purpose for deliberately insulting this unit?" "Insulted?" Phoebe arched an eyebrow, "It can be insulted?" "Apparently," Mar-Sa mused, "This should be a fascinating task, once we fashion the tools that will be needed to conduct a preliminary examination..." "I assume these photographs are not a joke, Richardson?" "I assure you, Mr. Secretary," the other man said gravely, "These images are quite real. They were taken at an altitude of over seven hundred-forty-eight miles above sea level using special image enhancing equipment on board the shuttle that is presently in orbit. The focus is not as good as may be desired, but given the range at which these photographs were taken..." "They look like one of those CGI things they shoot for the movies," the Secretary of Defense frowned, "You honestly expect us to go to the President and tell him that we got pictures of a flying woman holding another girl in glowing ball in the middle of space?" "There are many eyewitnesses who will confirm the reality of what you are seeing," the other man replied somberly, "Scientists mostly, and as hard-nosed a breed of natural skeptics would be difficult to imagine. I assure you, this incident was quite real and took place sometime yesterday, as you can see from the digital readings up in the corner of the photograph. These women were tracked gliding down back into the atmosphere and were lost somewhere over the pacific minutes later, but they are definitely linked with these other reports of a forced extraterrestrial landing that took place in Mendocino National Forest almost a week ago. I trust that you can see the full implications of what this portends..." The Secretary of Defense looked ready to say a few choice words over his thoughts on this matter, but it was the Secretary of State who spared him the trouble by saying, "This is all very interesting, Richardson, but are you seriously suggesting that this...alien has paranormal abilities that can enable her to travel into space on her own power?" "It would appear that way, Mr. Secretary," the man they called Richardson explained, "Unless she is concealing an extremely advanced form of technology in that rather...interesting outfit that you see her wearing..." "Wearing?" Secretary of State Washington Addams sniffed, "An interesting choice of adjectives, and I don't see being able to conceal so much as a pack of matches with that...costume she has on. Rather form-fitting for a space-suit, wouldn't you say?" "I see a real problem in bringing this to the President's attention," said Chief of Staff Carl Monroe, "Perhaps you, as Special Science Advisor, can explain to the rest of us how it's possible that a gold skinned alien who looks like a playmate model could be running around loose for a week in even a place like San Francisco without coming onto our radar until now. I think it's fair to say that you've been holding out on us again, Benjamin." "Perhaps I have not been entirely forthcoming with all of the details of our investigation, Carl," the other man admitted, "But I have had my people on the case since day one, and they were gathering data in order to prepare for a presidential briefing. I think it is safe to say that this would be a good time to not only brief the President but also prepare a public statement..." "A public statement?" Secretary of Defense Lesley Jackson looked at the other man as though he had grown a second head. "It is the belief of my people that this situation will no longer be classified should the activities of this lady continue as they have been over the course of the last few days," Benjamin Richardson replied, "And if the public does become aware of her existence, gentlemen, then this administration would be well advised to have a public statement ready." "We get the point, Ben," Addams grimly nodded, "But what are you prepared to do if the lady does become a threat to public safety? After all, she has killed two men already..." "With due respect, Mr. Secretary," the other man said, "The first one was an accident, the second...well, rather regrettable but justifiable. She was acting in haste and by all accounts was seeking to defend someone else from attack..." "She killed a man?" Lesley sat more alertly, "I'd heard about the driver of that truck, but..." "The second man was struck once in the chest with what we believe was the flat of the woman's hand," Richardson replied, "It had the effect of crushing his heart and collapsing his rib-cage, killing him almost instantly and hurtling his body with great force into a parked vehicle, which did the rest of the damage. In fairness to her, however, the man had just stuck a knife into the abdomen of a young lady who had been assisting her, so it might at worst be termed justifiable homicide, at best it was intended as self-defense..." "Sounds more like a revenge killing to me," Carl frowned, "We're not covering up the details from the media and local law enforcement, are we?" "No, but we are asking them to refrain from investigating, claiming it is a matter of national security," Benjamin replied, "However, that should also be taken into account when we do eventually issue a public statement." "We are walking on very thin ice here, gentlemen," Addams noted, "This woman definitely has the potential of becoming even more dangerous in the future. We cannot be seen as providing cover for the activities of an unknown party operating outside of the law, regardless of the nature of her origins. The opposition would crucify us." "And who could blame them?" Lesley fumed, "If you thought that Area 51 thing was a mess, just imagine the panic that the public might experience if we really are forced to admit to the existence of extraterrestrial. And I thought those little gray guys were a pain to have to deal with..." "With due respect, gentlemen," Richardson replied, "If she is as dangerous as you say, then it may not be a simple matter of restraining her through conventional methods. We are operating in the dark here with little conception of the true extent of her abilities and potential, so more analysis of the matter is definitely called for." "Are we really sure that this...lady...is an alien?" Lesley asked, "Looks awfully human to me..." "Yes indeed," Richardson mused, "And I find that singular fact most intriguing." "You would," Carl snorted, "Weird and unusual happenings are your specialty, Ben." "Continue exploring this issue and get back to us when you have more leads," Addams directed, "We can't put a lid on this matter for very long...some of those astronauts on the Alpha station are bound to talk to their respective governments, and when that happens...God help us." "God may already be helping us in ways that we do not entirely suspect, Carl," Richardson replied as he fingered an odd Wolfshead cane that he clutched firmly in one hand, "After all, one of the first gestures that this woman made while on the run was to pause long enough to heal back the very soldiers who were injured in that truck crash. I somewhat doubt that would have been the case if she had hostile intentions towards us." "Time will tell on that, Ben," Addams said gravely, "In the meantime...I think you and I need to see the president, Carl, and get his take on this." "Just see to it you do stay on top of things, Ben," Carl remarked as he nodded at Richardson, "We're counting on you to be ready for whatever happens next." "As ready as I always am," Richardson replied, not bothering to add that he had been ready since before any of the other men at the table had even existed... "Well, 1138," Mar-Sa remarked, "There is some impact damage and carbon scoring to your internals, but you appear to have come through reentry in surprisingly good condition." "That is...satisfying to hear, Apprentice Mar-Sa," the probe replied as Mar-Sa made a thorough study of its interior portions, its conscious AI portions presently sitting on a stand to one side of the hull interior while she probed its components with her makeshift instruments, "This Unit...was concerned that it would be incapable of fulfilling mission functions." "Well, you can relax on that front, because once I finish here you'll be restored to at least a partial improvement over your current standards," Mar-Sa assured the probe, "I can't replace everything or repair those parts that would require more advanced machinery, but with a bit of tinkering here and there I think I can bypass the parts that are operating at less than optimal condition." "So, in other words you'll be as right as rain for the duration, eh 'Zak?" Mark said as he stood to the side and watched the golden skinned woman in operation. Phoebe, who was grateful to see the man now wearing his civilian clothes, complete with six-string guitar slung over one shoulder, looked up at the brown haired man and said, "You guys got some weird kind of partnership going down here, huh? He provides you with the magic tricks and you're teaching him what it means to be human." "Yeah, but look whose talking about partnerships," Mark smiled, "I mean...no offence, but how did you and Marsha wind up together? I'm not saying anything about you two being an item, but..." "What's the matter, Big Boy?" Phoebe asked with a smile, "Jealous?" "Uh...maybe a little," Mark reluctantly admitted. "Well, that makes two of us," Phoebe remarked, turning back to study the golden woman who gleamed in the sun like a living metal statue, "Because a part of you's always gonna be inside of Marsha, and it's thanks to you that we can even communicate in the same language. I guess in a way I kind of owe you..." "So...how did it happen?" Mark persisted. "I don't really know myself," Phoebe shrugged, "Marsha and me just kind of bumped into each other, literally, like it was fate or something, and when I heard her story I just knew I had to help her..." "For which I am and will always be eternally grateful, Phoebe," Mar-Sa spoke without looking up from her examination, "And you don't need to worry. Mark and I are...friends...like a brother and a sister." "A brother?" Mark arched an eyebrow but decided not to press the issue. "A funny thing," Mar-Sa continued, "I've never had a brother before...or a sister either. I have always been alone...save for Kar-Tor. Phoebe is my first true friend, but I feel close enough to you that I feel as if I have known you for a long time, Mark. There are a lot of really interesting memories that I've been reviewing since Kar-Tor downloaded them into me..." "Ah..." Mark was suddenly very nervous, "Just...how much do you remember...?" "Not everything," Mar-Sa admitted, "Some images are blurred, others tend to be jumbled together. I'm not really sure how much of what Unit 1138 took from you to give to me has been faithfully recorded in my cerebral engrams. I only know that I only started to think strange thoughts about freedom and individuality after I began to integrate Kar-Tor's downloads. Perhaps in time I will remember more, or perhaps most of it will fade out of memory from lack of positive reinforcement..." "Oh...really?" Mark sounded faintly relieved. "You don't need to fear that I'll remember everything in your personal life, Mark," Mar-Sa assured him, "And if I wanted to know about---say---the first woman you made love to, I could gain that knowledge through my Telepathy, but only if I wanted to intrude on your privacy, which I assure you that I do not." "Oh," Mark said with a crestfallen expression. "At any rate, I am struck by the differences and similarities between us," Mar- Sa mused, "For example, I never knew my parents, while you had a...falling out with your own, which is what led you to pursue your current occupation..." "Ah...actually, it was my Dad who's all but disowned me," Mark replied, "My mom supported my wish to be a musician, but she thought my wanting to hitchhike across the country was a risky way of seeing the country..." "So you struck out on your own and took the high road?" Phoebe asked. "Been the way I've chosen to live my life for the last two years, after I dropped out of college," Mark replied, "Dad really wanted me to be a lawyer, like there weren't a million other guys out there doing the same thing..." "Oh yeah," Phoebe sniffed, "Never enough lawyers." "Exactly," Mark smiled, "I also rejected his other idea of enrolling in a business college. I kept telling him that making a lot of money wasn't as big a deal for me as it's been to him, and you should have heard him go on and on about not making the same mistakes he did when he was young. Of course if I'd listened to him I'd never have found 'Zak or had the chance to become Action." "Oh yeah, about that," Phoebe arched an eyebrow and hid her smile, "You always wanna be a superhero?" "Long as I could dream about it," Mark replied, "I used to love comic books when I was a kid, before they started doing this psycho-existentialist crap that's been ruining the industry..." "Know where you're coming from there," Phoebe nodded, "Nothing like the classics when the guys writing the books honestly knew how to tell a story..." "And make likeable characters that you could identify with," Mark agreed. "And had artwork that didn't make you want to toss your cookies," Phoebe added. "Word on that," Mark sniffed, "You think those new guys ever learned how to draw people?" "And what's their Psyche damage?" Phoebe winced, "I've seen suicide notes that were less depressing..." "I can tell that you two have a lot to talk about," Mar-Sa observed dryly, "Personally I agree that the Comic Book format is an excellent way of telling a story and has great potential as a tool for learning, but I just don't share your fascination with this idea of larger-than-life characters doing impossible deeds as an unpaid public service. It would seem more likely to me that your people in regular law enforcement would have a lot to say about that, and how can any criminal be prosecuted if his arrest was obtained through extra-legal means? I would think that anyone doing that would be looking at serious legal problems." "What, you got a thing against Superheroes?" Mark asked. "Not with the concept of using one's gifts to benefit others," Mar-Sa replied, "But it doesn't seem like a very personally profitable way to live. After all, you can't make a living doing this, and people in need could hardly be in a very advantageous position to repay you..." "There you go again, Marsha," Phoebe said, "Taking all the fun out of it, trying to be practical." "I'm sorry," Mar-Sa smiled, "Old habits are difficult to break. Back where I come from, one learns not to become too concerned with the affairs of other people. It's hard enough staying out of trouble with the authorities without adding the burden of such complicating factors." "That sucks," Mark said, "Sounds like a real police state where you come from, Marsha." "It is that and more," Mar-Sa said softly, "My parents were both executed as enemies of the state. The Council would rather hold our people back rather than allow them to move forward. If they knew about a world such as this then they would view it as nothing more than a resource to be plundered and not a thriving culture to be studied for the sort of friendly future relations that Kar-Tor envisioned." "Why is that, Marsha?" Mark asked, "How could a people as advanced as yours get run like a total dictatorship?" "A good question," Mar-Sa replied, "It's funny, really...I never paid that much attention to Kar-Tor's stories about the Keepers and how they engineered the fall of the Old Federation. One of my more illustrious ancestors, She-La of Ninjarma, helped found one of the largest and most progressive empires on my world only to have it collapse around four hundred cycles ago when Wolframa suffered a gradual collapse of our environment in what we call the Great Disaster." "Who's this She-La?" Phoebe asked. "A...very important figure in the history of my world," Mar-Sa explained, "I suppose you might compare her to a cross between your Joan of Arc and Alexander the Great, with a bit of Renaissance woman thrown in for good measure. She not only conquered and united the divided city-states of the North to forge the Ninjarman alliance, she also brought about a scientific and technological revolution that led to a more enlightened age after she overthrew the rule of a secretive group of Cabalists known as the Keepers. The stories told about her seem fantastically exaggerated in our present day and age, but the empire that she created lasted for well over six hundred cycles until the collapse brought about by the Disaster..." "What about that?" Mark asked in increasing interest, "What was this Great Disaster?" "I believe that it could be best described as what your people refer to as a gradual-but-dramatic shift in the climate of Wolframa," Mar-Sa explained, "One that cascaded totally out of control and tipped the balance away from harmony and a self-sustaining Biosphere. First our polar icecaps melted, which resulted in worldwide flooding of the coasts with a subsequent loss of arable farmland, which in turn led to an outbreak of plague and mass starvation. Then the combination of toxic chemical dumping and the rise in the thermal currents of our oceans caused a catastrophic loss of sino-bacteria and other microorganisms that formed the basis of our food chain that---coupled with overconsumption of our food resources---led to mass extinction of various indicator species on a worldwide level. This loss of Biodiversity also meant that those organisms that contributed to the all-important Oxygen and Carbon cycles that maintained our atmosphere were no longer able to sustain their functions, and without enough of both to block out most of the hard radiation that routinely bombards our planet..." "I think I get the picture," Mark averred, "In other words the environment collapsed and you guys wound up having to live underground in environmentally controlled cities." "Yikes," Phoebe winced, "Sounds almost like what we got going down here on our planet." "That is my concern too, yes," Mar-Sa agreed, "But, fortunately, there is still time enough for your people to take the necessary steps to correct these problems. Unfortunately, on my world, the Keepers---the very same cult that my ancestor allegedly put down---rose to power and made absolutely certain that such a logical course correction would never be effected." "But why?" Mark asked. "The same reason why the many corporations and governments on your world---and mine---choose to ignore the warning signs that are in evidence," Mar-Sa explained, "Greed and Power. By ruining the environment on my world, the Keepers created a crisis that forced our citizens to take the sort of drastic measures that they did, which made our people totally dependant on the Keepers, who, according to Kar-Tor, are the real movers behind the Councils. Our population had to be stabilized so men and women were forbidden to breed without state-approved permission, and gradually we reduced the process to its most sanitized and emotionally sterile components. Fathers and mothers are selected on the basis of genetic compatibility and not on emotional considerations. Our young replace our old like exchangeable components and children are merely seen as inheriting the position and place of their elders, who are themselves phased out once their operational usefulness is ended. The very concept of parental responsibility has been taken over by the state and children are raised by child Tenders at Natal Care Facilities with a system of patronage and meritocracy employed by the Monitors, who in turn ensure that we get indoctrinated with the approved dogmas of the state. All raw materials are recycled, including the atoms in our body..." "Ugh, Marsha!" Phoebe shuddered, "You make it sound so cold and unfeeling..." "It was," Mar-Sa replied, "Which is why I'm so very glad to be here and not there, even regardless of my gaining these new powers." "Yeah, can't say I blame you for that," Mark noted, studying the gold-skinned beauty with undisguised appreciation for the physical perfection she embodied, "You really are something else, you know that?" Her smile was as dazzling as the rest of her as she glanced briefly towards him with those large, expressive eyes, their purple coloring giving them the look of polished amethyst stones set against her metallic expression, "Thank you for saying so, Mark, but I'm really nothing special." "What?" Phoebe blurted out, "No way!" "Well, perhaps I should say that from where I come from I was never considered to be all that very special," Mar-Sa amended, "And yet, by a strange combination of luck and circumstance, I now find that I have overnight become the most powerful human being on your world, and I don't really know what to do about it." "You...nothing special?" Mark blinked, studying the long legs and well-sculpted curves of the golden goddess, "You've gotta be kidding." "No, I'm just an average girl back home," Mar-Sa replied, "My abilities may be magnified here but back in Ninjarma I was perfectly average..." "Average she says," Phoebe rolled her eyes then added, "Marsha, what are you doing right now?" "Performing repairs to a Probe-droid," Mar-Sa answered. "And what kind of tools are you using?" Phoebe continued. "Very crude and makeshift tools," Mar-Sa winced slightly. "And yet are you having any trouble making those repairs?" Mark asked, picking up on what Phoebe was saying. "Well...no..." Mar-Sa reluctantly admitted. "And why's that?" Phoebe smiled triumphantly. "Well," Mar-Sa began, "My eyes can perceive things in greater magnification and detail if I stay focused upon what is before me, and I seem to have a greater intuitive sense of these integrated components, and I can...perceive where this a broken or faulty connection. In fact, if I imagine these components in my mind, then I not can only see the micro-circuitry but also make new connection by separating or fusing the various parts together with a very fine detail that would only be possible with more sophisticated instruments under ordinary circumstances..." her voice trailed off as she started to think this over. "And could you do any of that by yourself back on Wolframa?" Phoebe asked. "No," Mar-Sa replied, barely at the level of a whisper. "And the reason why it's different here?" Mark smiled confidently. "Because...my powers are enabling me to make up for the shortfall," Mar-Sa replied with a sheepish expression. "Exactly," Mark nodded, "You've got more powers even than me with 'Zak helping, so you're not exactly average while you're on our planet, right?" "Well...no..." Mar-Sa conceded, "But still..." "So what are you complaining about?" Phoebe asked, "You're an Ultra-Girl here, so why not make the best of it?" "Ultra-girl?" Mark blinked, "Is that the best name you could think of?" "Well, it sure beats Action," Phoebe quipped back. "If you two are trying to make the point that I should use my special abilities in some constructive manner," Mar-Sa mused, "Then I am already convinced of that...what I'm not convinced of is that I should become a costumed superhero..." "What, you mean like that thing you were wearing the other day that you got from your home world?" Mark pointed out, "Sure looks like a costume to me." "Ah...well," Mar-Sa said again, "It's composed of chain molecules, which are very strong and durable, whereas normal Earth clothing..." "Yeah, speaking of which," Phoebe spoke up, "What's with that get-up you were wearing before, Guy?" "Oh, that's just something 'Zak calls up when I ask him to," Mark replied, "And it's a lot tougher stuff than my normal street duds." "What I'm trying to say here...is why are you and Phoebe so intent that I devote myself to fulfilling some cartoon fantasy ideal?" Mar-Sa asked, not bothering to say how unnerving it was to her to hear Phoebe and the man beside her exchanging quips and barbs in an almost affectionate manner, "I've no problem with believing that it would be a good thing to help those weaker than myself, but..." "Weaker than yourself?" Phoebe sniffed, "Marsha, that's almost everybody on the planet!" "I've always believed that doing a good deed is its own reward, Marsha," Mark explained, "But you could try thinking of it as a way of getting good publicity, making people learn to respect and trust you." "Yeah, that's right," Phoebe vigorously nodded, "Look at it this way, Marsha...you're an alien on our world and the government would probably like nothing better than to lock you up in a lab someplace and study you. If you made a name for yourself and became a celebrity, got name recognition and proved to people how useful and nice you are, then they wouldn't dare touch you. They couldn't lay a hand on you if you showed everybody that you're not an enemy invader." "But won't people be afraid of me when they learn what I can do?" Mar-Sa asked. "Some will," Mark replied, "But most people will cheer you if you come to them as a friend and show you mean it. It's been like that anywhere I put in an appearance." "And if Guthrie-boy here can do it, you can do it too, Marsha," Phoebe insisted, "You just need to start thinking of it as a public service, something to do to convince people that you're all right, and maybe later on you can even tell your story and get sympathy...then let the government try to touch you." "That...is something to think about anyway," Mar-Sa admitted, then smiled as she reconnected the AI portion of the probe and finished sealing up the cylinder, "Unite 1138, I believe repairs have finally been effected." "This Unit concurs," the probe-droid replied as it hummed for a moment then rose from the ground to hover a foot or two in empty air, "Operational efficiency reading at eighty-three percent of optimal. Self-repair systems online, memory and storage capacity at full maximum. This unit now capable of carrying out mission instructions to observe and record data concerning subject world Terra." "So, does that means you don't need me anymore?" Mark asked. "Negative," the probe replied, "This unit requires further assistance of subject Mark Daniels to continue to provide human-level perspective." "I guess he's grown attached to you, huh guy?" Phoebe elbowed the taller man with a playful expression. "Guess I'm not such a burden to you after all, eh 'Zak?" Mark grinned. "Negative," the probe replied, "This Unit is burdened by presence of slow- moving, cumbersome human with strange notions and cultural-tribal beliefs, but only subject Mark is equipped to comprehend and analyze human systems." "I think I would take that for a compliment and leave it at that," Mar-Sa said as she stood up and stretched, creating a real eye-full for her two companions, "Well, that was refreshing, getting to actually use my technical skills for once. I was half-afraid that being trapped on a world this primitive would mean that most of my advanced scientific skills would atrophy. Putting myself to the test like that was more fun than I thought it would be, especially after all those rigorous tests that Kar-Tor was always putting me through..." "So glad you've been able to find yourself," Phoebe said dryly, "But us poor, primitive humans do our best with what we've got." "Oh, I know that, Phoebe," Mar-Sa smiled back, "And for a primitive people...you do have your moments." "But what about it, Marsha?" Mark asked. "If you want to earn money you could build stuff and take advantage of your knowledge..." "I'm afraid not," Mar-Sa replied, posing coyly as she slyly perceived the aroused state of mind of both the man and her lover, "I know how the science of Wolframa operates, but the actual history of how our world evolved its technology from our earlier intermediary stages has been suppressed, so it will take me time to work back up from the basics. I'm sure that eventually I'll get the hang of how your world's technology operates, but it will take a lot longer before I figure out how to build the tools to create the tools to create the machines that will build the sort of devices that I am used to. I could reverse engineer from Unit 1138's components, but that would mean taking him completely apart, and...well...I don't think you would like that very much, would you...Isaac?" "This Unit would prefer to conduct its mission prerogatives," the probe responded, "But if Apprentice Mar-Sa requires this Unit to sacrifice operations..." "Not necessary," Mar-Sa replied, "Kar-Tor created you to conduct your studies, and I think he would have preferred if you continued on with your mission. It would be a fitting tribute in his honor. I'll just have to get by with what I have, which should be enough for now. I have Phoebe, after all, and she is all I really need to build a new life here." Phoebe smiled at that and said, "Hey, you know I'll do my part, Marsha. Heck, without you I wouldn't even still be here..." "Yeah, how is that?" Mark wondered, "I thought you were a goner for sure the way you were bleeding all over the place. Not that I'm sorry you survived that...but...uh...I don't even see a scar..." "So you looked, huh?" Phoebe smirked, "Blame it all on Marsha and her healing touch. She's a real miracle worker, no doubt about it..." "Actually," Mar-Sa somewhat reluctantly began, "In all honesty, I can't take all of the credit for what happened. I did heal your body back to normal, Phoebe, but...it was like an important part of you was missing, but then this...voice spoke to me..." "A voice?" Mark asked her with a surprised look. "Yes," Mar-Sa replied, "It was...I think it was feminine, but I can't be completely sure. I heard the words in my mind as if...someone were speaking inside of me...and then it...she...somehow restored Phoebe to life..." "Really?" Phoebe blinked, "You're kidding..." "I'm completely serious, Phoebe," Mar-Sa looked from her to Mark then back again before adding, "An intelligence beyond my understanding reached out to me and helped me in my hour of greatest need. Is this what your people refer to as...an angel?" "An angel?" Mark repeated with a puzzled look, "Um...well...I suppose it's possible. I mean, you're an alien goddess come to life, so why not an angel?" "Yeah, word on that," Phoebe averred. Despite herself Mar-Sa could not help blushing, her golden cheeks becoming a more glistening shade of metallic bronze as she demurely glanced down, not seeing the fascinated looks that she was receiving from her two companions. "I am...hardly a goddess, Mark," Mar-Sa replied, "In truth...I'm not even sure what that word means. It's a word that hasn't seen much use on Wolframa for ages, but the nearest equivalent for us would be the word you call Cosmos." "It means you'd stand out on any planet, regardless of your origins," Mark answered. "Hell, yeah," Phoebe nodded, "You really are an Ultra-special kind of person, Marsha, don't ever let anyone tell you different." "Flattery will get you somewhere, Phoebe," Mar-Sa smiled back, "And if you want to talk about special kinds of people, then I need look no farther than you, my very dear friend." "Yeah, figured it was like that," Mark remarked as he studied the golden skinned woman and the lighter framed Phoebe with a sardonic expression, "So...what's next for you guys? You gonna go on the road and see the world the way I'm doing? I wouldn't mind the company." "Thank you, Mark," Mar-Sa replied, "But after we rest here for another night, I think that we will have to go back to San Francisco, at least for a brief visit. Phoebe left many of her belongings there, and she does owe an explanation to her roommate for the mess that I caused back there." Mark sobered as he heard this, "You know if you do that they'll be coming after you again." "It is a risk, I agree," Mar-Sa replied, "But if we start running now then we'll be running forever. At the very least we need to pick up credit cards and other documents that we will need if we're to establish a new identity elsewhere...and I need to forge some type of documentation for myself if I'm going to make any sort of a life here. As much as I value Phoebe's guidance, I do eventually need to learn how to be more self-reliant." "Then we'll tag along for a bit and help you get set up," Mark nodded, "Right 'Zak?" "Affirmative," the probe responded. "Guess that means our vacation in paradise is gonna get cut short," Phoebe sighed, "Just as well, I was getting a little tired of coconuts and half-cooked fish..." "And I miss eating pizzas," Mar-Sa smiled, "Even if it has only been a couple of days. But, actually, there is no rush. We can stay here for another day and leave this island paradise in the morning." "Sounds good to me," Mark replied, "And maybe you two won't mind if I go fetch us something edible, like some food and munchies?" "Hey, that would be great!" Phoebe brightened, "Then this place really would be paradise!" "I would love to hear you play, Mark," Mar-Sa smiled, "I've been hearing tunes in my mind for days, and it would be nice to finally understand their true meaning." "It's a date, then," Mark smiled back, then his outline blurred as he once again vanished in a gust of hurricane-force winds. "Weird," Phoebe said, "He really must get off on doing that." "I believe that it is the fulfillment of one his greatest fantasy wishes," Mar- Sa agreed, "Odd how much alike the two of us are...but then again, I suppose that is only to be expected." "Better get on your costume then," Phoebe nodded to where Mar-Sa's cape and belongings were stored, "Wouldn't want to make him feel left out. Besides, it wouldn't do to leave it behind when we go where somebody else could find it." "Yes indeed," Mar-Sa agreed, "But Phoebe...I would prefer if you not refer to it as a costume." "Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Marsha," Phoebe smiled, knowing full well that this was far from the last word that would be spoken on that issue... (Chapters 12-19) (First Copyrights Only) Created and Written by Jim Robert Bader, all rights reserved, characters and situations are purely fictitious and are not based on persons living or dead (with the sole exception of Katie, whose voluntary contributions are deeply appreciated). Mar-Sa, the Ultra-Girl, is the creation of Jim Robert Bader with ideas and suggestions provided by his friends and collaborators, Katie Norcross (the REAL Kate Cross) and Bill Guiroff, with additional ideas and suggestions provided by Ed Dear III, who took a liking to Mark Daniels. All rights reserved; the characters and situations here are fictitious and are not intended to depict persons living and dead (other than Katie that is). This is a rough draft, subject to future alterations if I should find a publisher friendly enough to sponsor this series. Any resemblance to copyrighted or trademarked ideas belonging to other authors is purely coincidental. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- If you wish to check out my other works, Please check out my Fanfiction webpage at: http://s11.sexshare.com/~jbader/jimbader.html All related chapters of this series can be found there along with my other works.