"Take a chill pill, Jess. Everything is just fine." And I mean it; for one thing, it's real nice to be able to see what I'm flying over. We finally got the prescription in the helmet lenses changed. It's a gorgeous evening with a night so clear, you could pluck out the stars. Assuming the light pollution allowed you to, of course. I (ok, with Jessica's help) also reconfigured the armor in more complex ways. The suit can now channel it's energy inwardly to increase the suit's carrying capacity, kinetic pressure it can apply per foot/pound; in short, it can get real strong, within a magnetic sheathe to boot. The lab tests went well; not well enough to keep Jessica from fussing on the com link, but well.

I click Jessica off for awhile, she can buzz me back in case of emergency, and tune the suit's communications system in to 97.9 FM to listen to a little Rock and Roll. As a power ballad croons, I can see the people below moving in the Baltimore night. The brisk air makes their breath come out like steam. I don't feel the cold one bit. Let's hear it for insulated and armored long underwear.

The patrol is going smoothly, I guess you'd have to be a native to really love this city. Well, either a native or Edgar Allen Poe, but he wasn't what you'd call healthy. Still, the city of charm has its monuments and I take this time to enjoy the sites below. Some people wave at me, a few even cheer.

"You ROCK man!" Some teenagers cruising on the road give me a thumbs-up. Got to love East Coast "dudes."

Then I see where we are. Looks like they got most of it repaired, but there are still signs here and there of the all too recent battle with Imperious Maximus in this area. Cracked columns in a parking garage, a burnt down warehouse, a few divots that I occupied for brief pain filled moments; all are reminders of one thing. I lost. When the city needed help most, its only salvation was that R2 De Doom was sent off by its boss. Rock? I sink like one, maybe, but that's it.

To top matters off, my pity party just got interrupted. A woman's scream in the distance cuts through my self-indulgence like a knife, roughly a block north, I'd guess. I kick it in gear with a mutter to the armor. I'm still not the most agile thing in the air, but I'm a lot better than I was. I land on a warehouse roof, and the radar picks them up before my eyes do. Five blips, one moving away from the other four; or at least making a desperate attempt to. The armor can take a lot on its own, but no need to be sloppy. I call up the "Ion Field" and the extra illumination lets me see more clearly the street gang hunting the woman. With all due respect, she looks like hell. Her hair is a mess; the gold strands are plastered against the side of her frightened face. Her dress is torn and it's not hard to guess why. I think I'm getting angry now.

I launch up, and land like a thunderclap between these punks and their prey. What sort of sick, twisted immoral jackasses get their kicks tormenting and trying to take a young woman against her own will? Or did I just answer my own question?

"No." My electronically altered and amplified voice crackles out, and the mantle of energy around me must be something to see.

The reaction of the gang members is varied, and almost comical. One guy falls back on his rear, another two just back track, and the last bounces into me, and bounces off. If I had my high charge field up, he'd have been in for quite a shock. Their vocal responses are something else.

"Holy shit!"

"Surge! M.T., its Surge!"

".... uh...."

.... and other witty commentary.

"No," I repeat, and stride closer. "You will not touch this woman, you will not hurt this woman, and frankly, I don't think I like you walking my city's streets. In fact, I know I don't." If I sound pissed, it's because I am. You read about statistics, you catch news clips, but I can't flip to the funnies on this, and I can't change the channel. This is in my face, here and now; and I have to do something about it. Fortunately, I can.

They can't see my eyes, but I guess they don't need to realize I'm quite serious. He shoves the knife forward, and I simply click on the high charge field after all. The effect is darkly humorous. He's blown back to his buddies, stunned, but fine... just suffering from a bad hair day. That's enough of a clue for the rest of them; they run.

If it was just theft, or something, I might have let them go, trusting they would reconsider their lifestyle after this encounter. I won't this time though; I won't let these predators feed on yet more people's lives.

"Arc Tunnel" I whisper in my helmet, gauging the power level with conscious thought. The effect is nothing short of spectacular. Like pins in a bowling lane, they fall over; split by the energy wave that sears through them. A brief flash, a ripple of raw electricity, and it's over. All four are unconscious. Inwardly, I sigh with relief. I want them arrested, not dead, or even really injured.

I turn to the woman, "Are you ok?"

She gapes at me.

I click off the fields and reach out my hand to her, gently.

She looks at the offered gauntlet like it was something alien.

Ok, maybe I over did the whole 'Avenging Hero of the City' gig, she seems to be the victim of some fallout from it. Besides, given what almost happened to her, I don't blame her for being in shock. "I'm calling the police." I tell her, "They'll be here soon."

A thought, and I change the dial, so to speak, to the police band, "Attention Officers, this is Surge, and we have four unconscious gang members who attempted a rape of a rather scared young lady here. I need someone to take them away, but more importantly to help her out." I give the street location, a thank you, and click out before one of them can tell me I'm not authorized to be on this frequency. Though as beloved as 'Surge' is around here I'd probably get them stumbling over themselves rooting for me.

Finally, as she over hears me chatting in my helmet, the woman smiles. It's a beautiful sight. "Thank you." She says softly.

"You're welcome." I feel a bit better, ok, maybe I get my butt stomped by giant robots, but thugs I can do something about. I try to ignore the statistics I've heard rattled off about exactly how many crimes are going on while I wait here for the police to arrive.

To their credit, a squad car pulls up in fairly record time, just as the punks are groaning and coming to. Two police step out, and as one begins to cuff the assailants, the other (who happens to be a female, good call) comes up to reassure the traumatized young lady. I nod respectfully to them, and roar off. Let the professionals handle the clean up.

I soar to a different section of the city, riding the waves of electromagnetic power the suit produces like a body surfer. Focus on the job, I tell myself. Right now, the "job" is patrolling and protecting. This part of town is mostly industrial, and it's seen better days. Still, efforts are being made to revitalize it. Some new businesses have set up shop recently, part of the mayor's attempt to revive the city. One of them is flashing with strange lights beneath me, unconscious guards at its gates. It looks like someone has broken into a factory owned by Crux Industries. Its doors are wide open.

Hmmm... I suppose I should check that out.

Both fields hum to life again, and I swoop through the doors after making sure the downed guards are breathing. Radar picks up three standing figures in the huge chamber. My eyes make out the details. Oh man, they're in costumes! I don't know why I'm surprised, it's not like I have a monopoly on it, it's just; I get the feeling that whatever advantage the suit's "powers" give me may have just been negated. Crap.

The first one I notice is dressed in armor as well, not nearly as high tech as my own armor, really more of a plasti-metallic body mesh suit. However he's loaded down with devices. His belt, a shoulder strap, and wrist bracers are all bristling with tools, tiny boxes, and other paraphernalia. Part of his costume consists of some elaborate headgear: goggles, head set for some communications, and yet more protection. Until I know more, I better not risk talking on any frequencies that he might listen into.

The second is a rather attractive lady in what seems to be a skin tight 'tin foil' kind of suit. You know, the sort the blondes all wear in those 1950s B Sci-Fi movies? Speaking of blondes, she is one. Her hair is wild and long. Doesn't seem very practical to me in the villain business, but it is visually appealing. No weapons on her, but the eyes under her dominio mask glow with green energy I've never seen before. I have a bad feeling about her.

Villain Number 3, come on down. He's glowing all over with a light shimmering blue field. Most of his costume is light blue, with a true blue rectangle as some sort of icon on his chest. He's been outfitted with goggles very similar to the ones the first guy is wearing, but without all the options. I have a hunch the armor's blinding "Thunderburst" may not work as well on these villains as I hope.

"You were right on the money Widget. Surge arrived just like clockwork." A voice pipes up below me.

Below me?

I barely have enough time to notice a little man, not quite one foot tall, who is dressed in grey, brown and green, with points of some sort on his mask. Maybe meant to look like horns. There's a G on his chest. Who puts a freaking G on their chest? Then I recall the stylized lightning S on the Surge armor's chest plate; uhm, that's a different matter entirely.

He shifts from ten inches to five-foot-nine inches in approximately 1.8 seconds, hitting me with the upper cut from hell. The foot pounds in pressure is amazingly painful. The little snot's blow knocks me back over a counter, and if my ion field wasn't up, I might be out before this even begun. I'm not the only one flying though, the High Charge he just connected to has to be painful, and he's blown back as well.

The first guy's voice cuts through, "Darn it, Gremlin, I warned you about his ion field. Everyone, by the numbers. This is our chance for the big time. Glitch, jam his output."

"On it boss." Glitch would apparently be the name of the bombshell, who comes around the counter's corner even as I'm getting to my feet.

"Hello gorgeous," She purrs, and eyes the suit. Why is it women only want me for my armor? Her eyes flicker with that odd glow again, and my high charge field shuts off. No command, nothing. She just shut it off. Thank God the Ion Field is still holding, but they can now lay hands on me. This can't be good.

I need to take the offensive, I consider frying Glitch, but... well, she's a woman (Holy #$#$, Susan's right, I am a pig). Besides, another target presents itself. The gent in azure has some sort of field, I try Mega Bolt, not at Maximum Setting of course. My suit sets forth a stream of lightning, only the guy touches his chest then holds out his hand to summon forth some kind of thin translucent wall that just dissipates the blast. Maybe I shouldn't have held back.

I try not to let it phase me, snappy patter, that's it. Works for other heroes, or so I hear, "Let's see, Widget, Glitch, Gremlin... who would you be? Parallelogram man?"

He scowls at me, "I'm Blue Screen..." Another hand motion over his chest, "In your case, the blue screen of death!" And he hurls a smaller rectangle at me. I decide not to let the suit do all the work, I fly up to avoid whatever it is. There's a crack sound behind me as the darn energy construct cuts into and shatters part of the concrete wall. Ok, this guy is serious. He maybe nuts, but he's definitely serious.

I no sooner dodge that, when something else gets chucked my way. Widget is hiding behind Blue Screen, and has shot some sort of insulated goo at me. "Having trouble Surge? When S.N.A.F.U.'s around, things just go wrong eh?" He goes on, as this gunk spreads up my arm, "By the way, I've been on all your websites, studied your moves, and prepared my cohorts in crime for this eventuality. You don't have a chance."

Websites? I have websites? I make a mental note to look up www.SURGE.com later; first things first, I have to get this goo off me. It's insulated, but even insulated material has a threshold. What's more, between my own insulation and the fact this isn't a person I'm trying to blow away, I don't have to hold back.

"Mega-Bolt" I tell the helmet, as I bring my gauntlet up to the side of the stuff, and aim at the lights at the same time. Maybe they're protected from bright lights, but I have radar. This should give me the edge. With a stream of power, I get both results I wanted... kind of. The goo is blown away, and the lights are out. Of course, the lights are out because I just blew a hole through the damn ceiling, but that's niggling. The members of S.N.A.F.U. scramble as debris rains down on them. I can't help smirk as one chunk beans Widget from what he thought was a safe location.

"Funky buttlovin..." He curses and grabs his head, then glares at me, "You're good, every bit as skilled as they say... but we've got numbers, and we're prepared." Sadly, the darkness I was counting on isn't as helpful as I thought. Blue Screen gives off a glow, and besides, Widget clicks on a flashlight attachment on his belt. So much for that.

Then Gremlin is on me again; he's shrunk down, which in no way seems to diminish his strength. For some reason, a ten-inch man leaping on top of my shoulder is very unnerving. I get another sock to the jaw, and by the time I try to swat the little creep off, he's falling safely out of reach.

"You're going down, Surge," The imp chortles.

I fly back, and try to line them up. "Arc Tunnel." It's with grim satisfaction that I watch Gremlin get caught in the wide beam of lightning the suit produces, Glitch is in the fringe of it, but for some reason it dims around her. How the heck does she do that? The rest is sucked in by another of Blue Screen's protective shields, which annoyingly, protects Widget as well.

Another device is lobbed at me by Widget, a magnetic flare that would normally blind me, and scramble my radar both. Bad call Widge, should have read the fine print more carefully, even the radar of this suit is shielded. Then I realize he's not caring so much about taking me out as buying time for his companions. Glitch has moved behind Blue Screen as well. Her eyes shimmer and the Ion Field gasps, sputters, and dies. One by one, my defenses are being stripped from me.

"Give it up, Hero," Blue Screen sneers. "Your electricity can't pierce my screen enough to do much damage to us, and we're wearing you down. You may have been hot snot once, but now you're nothing more than a pathetic has-been, old man."

Something in me snaps. This punk is slamming my dad. Nevermind that I've done the same, nevermind that they don't know it's a different person in here. This jerkwad is copping an attitude at the memory of my father. As High School as this sounds, he's dissin my old man, and that's pissing me off no end.

I land in front of his protective field, and click the inward energy channel to the exo-enhancer. The suit hums and I slam both open palms with all the might of the latest option against his wall. It may be ideal for deflecting electrical energy, but the screen shatters up against its creator. The rest is all dominoes.

Blue Screen's lights go out, figuratively and literally. His unconscious body stops with the blue glow, and rams into the side of Glitch. Glitch was preparing to do something judging by her tell-tale luminescence in the eyes, but this ruins it, and instead she bumps against Widget hard. Her eyes glow; something in his gear bursts. Abruptly, the same goo he was using on me covers him and her, holding them fast.

A reshrunk and recovered Gremlin lunges at me again, but fool me once, I move, and he misses. I lift the counter, and bring it down on the squirt.

"Eek, A mouse," I remark dryly as I bury him under it. At first I worry I've overdone it, and may have to dig him out, but then whatever controls his size change, be it force of will or some device, clicks off, and he grows to full size. His legs jut out from the counter on one side, his top on the other. All I can think of is that if he had ruby slippers, I'd be stealing them. He's breathing. I'm going to give myself a lecture on holding back and erring on the side of caution with the suit... later.

I'm also going to have to learn that one can't get answers from the villains when one knocks them all out. It occurs to me I don't even know what these guys were robbing or sabotaging or whatever they do. It's a chemical plant, I assume chemicals are part of the goal. I notice computer records have been fried, and there's a packet of vials filled with some liquid. I hold it up and try to make out details in the dim light.

It's a greenish liquid that looks slightly like anti-freeze. I wonder if...

Footsteps, I turn, ready for more combat, instead I see police. Looks like Crux's security guards called in back up. There's a Draughtsman with them. What the heck? The F.B.I. is in on this? I palm the vial I've taken... I know it's wrong, but there's a mystery here, whatever this company was playing with just went up in importance.

There is a pause as we look at each other, the Draughtsmen armor looks vaguely familiar. Maybe that's because it's not so different in some ways to the Surge design. He's checking out my armor as well. He's wearing the economical budget package, with pistol at side instead of built in blasters or anything; I've got all the options. I don't think he notices the palmed vial yet. Let's try to keep it that way.

"Sir." He addresses me; there's a note of respect mixed with authority, "Good to see you again. I take it you encountered S.N.A.F.U. in mid act and thwarted them?"

Thwarted? Who says words like thwarted? Instead of asking that out loud, I nod and try to think of what dad would say. "Yes, I believe they were interested in the theft of some research project here, but I haven't had the chance to question them. Perhaps you could fill me in?"

"Nothing I could share sir." I almost imagine an apologetic tone behind his helmet, but it's also no nonsense. I get the feeling this is on a 'need to know basis' and the government and I are about to disagree on whether I need to or not. He continues, "We'll take it from here." Well, that kind of cuts off any offers of help from me. Doesn't it?

"Understood." I try to match his tone of professionalism, and fly off. I'm dying of curiosity here; maybe I should make some sort of snooping device, a Surge bug and tracer. Nah.

But I am going to check this out.

As I fly away, I click the com link back on to give Jessica a report. That's when it hits me, I did this alone. I took out S.N.A.F.U. all by myself. Mind you, they're no Royal Elite, but still, it was all me. A smile forms under my helmet.

Jessica's dulcet tones are hitting a few new octaves with worry as I come back on, "Where the hell have you been?" The police reports, she informs me, have hardly been reassuring, saboteurs and costumed criminals at Crux.

"Have you engaged them?" She continues tersely, "Is the suit all right?"

My smile turns into a grin.

"Relax Jess, everything is under control. I have something I want you to help me take a look at in the lab, but as for the Super Hero side of things. I'm on top of it."

And for the first time since I took up this crazy job, I really feel like I am.
 

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