Isaac Hartson stepped off the train to the steady thumping of defensive turrets.

  A rush of hot, jungle-scented air, incongruous at the north pole, hammered into him the moment he crossed the threshold of the train doors, before he turned to offer a hand to Sarah as she hopped the gap. She accepted, flashing him a smile as she landed next to him, the camera, notebook, and dictaphone swaying on their straps. Giving his hand a squeeze, she dropped it to retrieve the pen attached to her notebook and scribbled away, trying to capture some of the moment as the rest of the passengers crossed over the gap to the platform.

  “Welcome to Hyperborea!” James said. Sarah’s brother was the reason the two of them were actually there, but he’d also made the train ride a little awkward. It was difficult to have any proper heart-to-heart with his theoretical girlfriend with her brother right there the entire time. But Isaac didn’t begrudge the guy; James had been more than friendly.

  “Oh, this is amazing!” Sarah gushed, finally looking up to survey the vast bowl of green. Ice-clad mountains surrounded them in the distance, almost obscured by the mist from waterfalls, and the sky overhead was bright without the need for sun. Some kind of strange energy emanating from the passage to the deep kingdoms built a luminous dome over the lush green bowl of Hyperborea, a hazy brilliance that didn’t truly cast any shadows.

  “It’s a bit more than I was expecting,” Isaac admitted, straightening the lapels on his newest costume. He had no desire to pass himself off as a combat super and, while the diplomatic delegation knew he was basically there through extended nepotism as Sarah’s companion, he didn’t like the idea of being complete dead weight. Instead he had taken the opportunity during the journey to style himself as Bulwark, a reinforcement meta.

  Some time with his workbench and borrowing – well, stealing – from the delegation’s supplies had resulted in a severe, almost military-style uniform in gray and brown, accented with small leather plates as armor and decoration. He’d even trimmed his hair into a flat-top, though he’d kept it dark at Sarah’s request. Bulwark was composed and intense, a welcome change from the overly peppy Ravdia persona he’d discarded, but he was very careful about the inertia he was putting into the disguise. He didn’t want to straightjacket himself like he almost had with Ravdia.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” James told them, as the actual security detail got off the next train car, clad in heavy mechanical protection. The tinker-made armor was somewhere between a power-suit and a mecha, ten feet tall and dark green. Isaac didn’t know what tinker had worked on it, but it looked to be some kind of standard-issue equipment, drawn from the Five City Alliance’s reserves. The last car disgorged the baggage, a pile of boxes and suitcases on a small hovering platform, repulsors visibly straining under the load.

  The four security personnel drew up around James, Isaac, Sarah, and the other half-dozen attachés that were part of the delegation. Despite the fact that they were inside a walled perimeter, they clearly took the threat of wildlife seriously. Only for everyone to pause as Sarah’s cook bustled forward to take point.

  “Yes you will all be following me now so much today!” Mister Gratin was a very small lizard-person, more humanoid than Savage, the cybernetic raptor Isaac had worked with in the past. But there was something about the cook that tripped Isaac’s instincts, and made him think that the little guy was more dangerous than he let on.

  “Thank you, Gratin,” James said, waving everyone forward before lowering his voice to talk just to Sarah and Isaac. “He generally doesn’t throw his weight around but Gratin’s got some connections in the Deep Kingdoms. Probably came with us this time so he could fill them in on the political situation.”

  “Why didn’t I know that?” Sarah complained, squinting at Gratin’s figure.

  “You, ah, weren’t around when it came up last,” James said, and Sarah sighed. Isaac put an arm around her and she leaned against him for a moment. It didn’t take any brilliant observation to see that Sarah hadn’t quite fit back in with her family after losing her powers. The degree to which she’d changed from the aloof goth girl was almost worrying, reminding Isaac of the changes in his personas, and how they were all just acts.

  “Everyone stay close right now yes!” Gratin said, and there was an earth-shaking roar from somewhere outside the defensive walls. The bowl of green that was Hyperborea was populated almost exclusively by ancient life, the dots in the air pterodactyls rather than birds and the susurrus of life far different than anything in the parks. Isaac glimpsed an enormous scaled head peering at them from over the near thirty foot of wall, but whatever it was just huffed and stalked off, almost ignoring the projectiles from the turrets.

  “Guess we need to upgrade our defenses here,” James muttered, shifting his briefcase from one hand to the other. “Never seen one of those before.”

  “Dammit! I didn’t get a picture!” Sarah said suddenly, and Isaac laughed.

  “And you say this is just the appetizer?” He asked, and instead of James it was Gratin who answered.

  “Very much yes indeed! Deep Kingdom hors d’oeuvres!” Gratin pranced happily as he led them along the rock path to the center of the compound, where a massive hole gaped open in the ground. At least half a mile across, if Isaac had to guess, and spanned by something that wasn’t quite a bridge.

  The tinker-made structure was anchored in four places, long spans supporting a platform in the center that was surrounded by Deep Kingdom crystaltech. Multicolored spires and panels of pure gemstone, along with what seemed like antennae and a few cables dangling down into the pit. The whole thing looked a bit precarious, though once they stepped out onto the bridge, the lack of any vibration or swaying showed it was better built than it seemed.

  “Heights are different when I can’t transform,” Sarah muttered, another puff of smoke coming from her mouth. Her power had slowly started returning, but there was still a ways to go before she was anywhere near her old self.

  “If it makes you feel any better, anyone with me is completely safe when it comes to falling,” Isaac reassured her. He’d already used his powers on Sarah once, so he knew it was possible. Sarah tilted her head up to give him a half-smile, but still eyed the bottomless abyss below them with disfavor. Isaac didn’t blame her; even if he wasn’t that bothered by heights, the endless drop to the center of the Earth made him more than a little uncomfortable.

  Nobody else seemed worried, but presumably they’d made the trek before. A small conveyor floor sped them along the distance to the center platform, which was larger than it had seemed at first glance, easily broad enough to handle their entire group. There was a dais there – small in relative terms, large in absolute ones – that seemed to be made of pure polished sapphire under a cluster of machinery, and everyone got on before James lifted a tiny two-way radio to his lips.

  “Alright, ready for transfer. Alpha Echo Six Three. Fourteen departing.”

  Hydraulics hissed and solid crystal panels lowered around the dais; topaz, ruby, amethyst, quartz wrought into thick slabs. A score of translucent gemstone walls locked into place, an enormous dodecahedron containing the platform, and overhead lights switched on with the click of electrical relays. Speakers somewhere began to play a strange song, a warbling, wordless tune that Gratin swayed and hummed along to, and shapes began to move within the crystal panels. The song reached a crescendo and the colors on the panels cycled frantically, the shift winding down slowly until the song ended and the panels lifted away to reveal someplace other than the surface.

  “Well, damn,” Isaac said, craning his neck to look at the alien landscape. They were in the middle of an utterly strange city, a sprawl of conical buildings of widely varying sizes, starting with half-sized houses nearby to massive, almost skyscraper-sized versions further out, giving the impression of bowl. The small buildings were clearly meant for natives like Gratin, while the larger ones further out had features scaled for ten, twenty or even thirty foot tall beings. Some of which he could actually see walking around.

  Surrounding the destination pad – for it had to be some kind of teleporter – there were dozens of lizard people – ikiski, or The Singing Ones in their native tongue. They weren’t the feral raptors like Savage, but they were distinctly lizard shaped in their heads and hands, rather than just humans with scaly skin like some of the mutants Isaac had seen. Most of them were roughly human sized or smaller, though, and from what James had said that was not just a coincidence. Size correlated with social status, and this was enforced both culturally and biologically. So the broad-shouldered, long-toothed, twenty foot tall being, clad in robes that could have furnished drapes for an office building, was clearly in charge.

  “Welcome,” the giant reptile rumbled, throwing its arms wide, and Isaac couldn’t help but push inertia into his clothes. There was something atavistically threatening about the almost subsonic growl. Next to him, he saw more smoke puff from Sarah’s mouth and she scowled.

  The men in the power suits opened fire.

  Isaac winced as the staccato of gunshots assaulted his ears, along with the whine of plasma beams and the crackle of laser capacitors, all pouring their ordnance onto the reptilian titan. For a moment Isaac was ready to grab Sarah and find somewhere to shelter from the battle, but then he saw that James wasn’t bothered, and neither were the other attachés. It was just the newcomers like him and Sarah who seemed to be worried.

  The fusillade lasted almost half a minute before cutting off abruptly, leaving the massive Iskiski completely unharmed. His robes were a little bedraggled, but most of the firepower had been directed at the titan’s bare chest. There were a few scorch marks on the blue-green scales but nothing beyond that.

  “Thank you for your welcome,” James said calmly, though Isaac could barely hear it after the gunplay. Isaac relaxed by degrees; clearly that had all been expected, but nobody had warned him about it.

  “Your brother is a bit dramatic,” he muttered to Sarah, though her could barely hear himself speak.

  “Apparently,” Sarah said grumpily. She scowled in her brother’s direction, momentarily distracted from the ikiski.

  James exchanged a few more pleasantries with the giant lizardman, only half-heard thanks to the ringing in his ears, and then their giant host turned around to wade through the crowd of smaller natives. Someone that large should have lumbered, but the way it moved reminded Isaac of the Justice of Hire lieutenant Big-Max — all predatory grace, a lot more than something that size should have. If he had to guess, the big guy was probably as dangerous as someone like Captain Bulk, even lacking flight powers.

  As they left the teleportation pad, Isaac could see that the horizon curved upward in every direction; distant walls of green rising toward the ceiling. He could spot what looked like an entire mountain made of diamond, the peak emitting a whirling, looping stream of energy that merged with others at the center of the Earth to create a diffuse brilliance that took the place of the sun.

  For a moment he wondered where the other end of the Hyperborean Passage was, then realized that this was the interior of the Earth, so it was under his feet. The entire settlement, or city, or whatever it might be called was actually atop it. He glanced at Sarah, then decided against mentioning it considering how much she had hated the bridge at the other end. No need to rub it in.

  The actual embassy was obvious in how out-of-place it was, with standard-sized, straight-angled architecture and a walled compound standing stark contrast to the spires dotting the rest of the settlement. It was a small manor, a good three stories and featuring the swooping lines and curved glass of uptown Star City—but also featuring weapons blisters and shield projectors in addition to turrets lining the outer wall.

  “It’s like someone mashed up Mom’s place with Dad’s,” Sarah said, looking it over.

  “Fancy digs,” Isaac agreed. “Hope we don’t actually need those defenses too often, though.” Especially since the larger ikiski could probably blow right past them. Though considering the aggressive nature of the dinosaurs in Hyperborea, it might well be that the defenses were simple pest control.

  “I will leave you here back soon yes,” Gratin chattered, scampering off with an amused look from the big guy, who followed a moment later. James did something that opened up the heavy gates and waved the party through. Isaac stopped just inside, eyeing the baggage cart floating past. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t have much unpacking to do.

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  “Give me a few minutes to shore up these walls and I’ll meet you inside,” he offered Sarah.

  “Sure,” she said, squeezing his hand before following the other diplomatic personnel to the front door. Isaac could have put it off, but considering what he’d seen, he would be more relaxed if their defenses were a little bit more solid.

  While Isaac was still a bit stunned by the surroundings, he wanted the time and space to actually start practicing with his power, and help Sarah with hers. Something they hadn’t had on the train, or even back at the Humbert Building address since Sarah’s mom had packed them up and sent them on their way almost immediately.

  The train ride had taken a couple days, but most of that time had been spoken for. He’d needed sleep, for one, but he’d also had to construct his new costume and get a quick orientation from James. By the time he actually had some freedom, they’d broken out into the arctic ice. In all, he’d had essentially had no time to properly recover from the battle at Mechaniacal’s lab or think over how to deal with the way his own power had nearly trapped him in Ravdia’s identity. There was a lot of experimentation he needed to do to get a handle on the conceptual aspects of his talent.

  He put his hands against the wall, a big steel-and-concrete thing topped with spikes in addition to the turrets. The actual structure was so hefty that if he had tried to add to the total it would have only been a fractional improvement; his maximum wasn’t that large, after all. Instead of trying to push physical inertia, he considered the very essence of a wall. That it stood tall, protected people, and sheltered what was behind it. That was what he targeted, what he tried to make unchanging, rather than the physical structure.

  It was firmly in the realm of metaphysics that Isaac was none too sure he had a handle on. While he’d made sure he was read up on the physical description of inertia, esoterica was more difficult to research, let alone understand. It didn’t help that while there were units for physical inertia, measuring something that was almost purely conceptual was practically impossible. He just didn’t know whether he was altering things like that a lot, or a little.

  There was also an idea that had come to him near the end of the train ride, sparked by the depowerment ray and the way it had felt. It had used his power – somehow – to suppress people’s powers and then set that in stone. Which suggested to him that his power applied to itself. That the permanence of the changes his power made was because he gave them a resistance to the world trying to return them to normal.

  It was just a guess, but if it was true then he could actually make his changes temporary. Which would be a relief, though he was resigned to his real talent becoming known after the fight at Mechaniacal’s lab. He’d left more than enough evidence and, with what he’d told Cayleb, he had to assume that Star Central had a full profile on him. Another good reason to be down in the Deep Kingdoms where they couldn’t find him.

  He stayed at it for a while, trying to get any useful feedback from his power, moving from section to section of the concrete, divided as it was by the reinforcing columns under each spike. He tried not only to augment the wall entire, but the connections between them, feeling out each idea but, frustratingly, getting very little return for his efforts.

  Eventually he got fed up with uselessly staring at blank stone when he could be inside. He had done all that he could for the moment. It wasn’t like he had figure out everything immediately, and it was an opportunity to try different ideas anyway. Isaac didn’t actually need to keep going on it, so he actively stopped and centered himself, leaning against the wall and reminding himself to take a break.

  For a moment he just stayed outside, taking a moment for himself. It hadn’t even been that long since he’d seen Greg get carved up, and while he wasn’t going to feel too sorry for the guy, the memory of that sight proved intrusive. He shoved the thoughts away, taking in his surroundings instead.

  The whistles, warbles, and rumbles of the lizardfolk came from beyond the wall, and he craned his neck as he gazed up at the curve of the world arcing overhead. He could see a number of gemstone mountains, and maybe even the spots of other cities in the far distance, hundreds of miles away. Maybe he could try and relax a little bit and enjoy some of the sights, since hardly any humans got to see the hollow Earth with their own eyes.

  Instead, he shook himself, turning to head inside. He wasn’t sure what his best path was, but he needed to make sure he had a clear goal and a way to move forward, even if that goal was simple as spending time with Sarah. Best to maintain focus, worry about only what was in front of him. He would have to trust that Star City would keep to itself for a while.

  ***

  Administrator Ike watched the tower going up on the other side of the city with a distinct chill, regardless of the efforts of his life support chair. From Star Central it was merely a thin silver spire, but the surveillance feeds on the walls of his office showed something far more detailed. On the site of the battle that had removed the false Mechaniacal, the real one had staked a claim and started building.

  The most annoying thing was that the supervillain had legally purchased the plots in question, through accounts that somehow had escaped detection, compensating the displaced individuals with generous payments. Of course, Mayor Ducatt could have those transactions rescinded or blocked, but there was no point. For the moment, it was better to play along with Mechaniacal rather than annoy him with petty bureaucracy — it wasn’t like they had anyone who could actually fight the sovereign-class menace and make the law stick, anyway.

  Moonblast was probably the most likely to be willing to fight Mechaniacal, especially given that Earth governments had a number of agreements predicated on keeping the man in his moon prison. But then again, Mechaniacal had shown the ability to use or subvert lunarian runes, which had the exiled princess quietly panicking judging by the increasingly lengthy series of messages from her. Other sovereigns were even less likely to intervene, so long as Mechaniacal wasn’t threatening them directly.

  Endymion of the Isle of Leaves and his biomechanical super-mech would be too susceptible to mechanical subversion, even if he had more firepower than almost anyone else. King didn’t have much power outside of his eponymous Kingdom, and the Sultan of Somewhere would be more likely to help Mechaniacal, given the general relations the Five City Alliance had with the southern kingdoms. Lance Ultima wouldn’t care unless Mechaniacal threatened his dragons or their hidden valley, and people like The Bellringer or the cultists of The Mountain followed their own agenda.

  At least Mechaniacal wasn’t using the spherical drones he favored, given how much those had terrorized Star City in the past months. Instead, the tower was being built by giant mechanical limbs, reaching up from within the tower itself. Every few minutes a massive mechanical arm would appear from within the tower, slotting another prefabricated section into place. Machine Head’s drones recorded the way the mechanical linkages between sections meshed and locked, lacing the components together so smoothly that any visible sign of their presence vanished.

  “I still do not like that you are allowing that villain in our city.” Glorybeam’s voice was still stiff and disapproving, even out of armor and without her power.

  “Believe me, I am not happy about it either,” Ike said, as another section of tower slotted into place, chillingly precise. “But he was right that I need something to offset Blacktime.” He swiveled his chair to face the desk and comms console he’d added for her. A new, dedicated office for her was still under construction, but for the moment she worked in his, behind all the associated protections. “And unfortunately without your powers, I don’t dare trust your leverage alone.”

  Glorybeam nodded sourly, but she was wise enough to know that what was previously a relationship between equals was suddenly anything but. It was the kind of strain that could easily crack even a normal couple, let alone a hero and a villain. Not to mention the possibility that Blacktime – or someone else – would be tempted to convert her to the cause of villainy before her powers returned. One of the reasons for her protective custody was that any number of people might have guessed her civilian persona and would take the opportunity to even the score.

  Up until only a few weeks ago she had been a sovereign-class superhero, one of the most powerful in the world, and now she was a civilian consultant. A fall that Ike was intimately familiar with, even if for him it had been long ago and he was too busy with his current role to worry about might-have-beens. They hadn’t discussed it much, but Vilmonica, Star City’s resident public relations expert and information super, had apparently been counseling Glorybeam — or rather, Gloria. Which was better than nothing, but unfortunately Glorybeam hadn’t made all that many friends in Star Central.

  “Blacktime has been quiet these past few days, at least,” Ike concluded. Star City, for the most part, had gone on with business as usual once Mayor Ducatt had announced that Mechaniacal was there in a consulting role. A polite lie, as Ike doubted that the supervillain had any real interest in reversing the damage his drones had done. But only the oldest supers actually remembered fighting the tinker, so the civilian population was surprisingly accepting.

  “As expected. It is because— no, keep Blizzion on fire duty. Ice will only make it stronger.” Glorybeam interrupted herself as she addressed her earpiece, listening in on one of the many squads Ike had tasked to deal with the various threats that hadn’t paused in the wake of the showdown with Blacktime and Mechaniacal’s return. “It is because he is actually quite cautious,” she resumed, looking up from her notes. “As is appropriate, with someone of Mechaniacal’s reputation.”

  “I don’t need to know his reputation,” Ike muttered, staring at the screen. “I lived through it.” At some point after the tinker had arrived, he’d managed to construct a floating island that could appear from nowhere, and while Mechaniacal didn’t tend to inflict widespread devastation, his targeted raids – seizing items, capturing people, hijacking experiments – were just as terrifying. Nearly every time he attacked, there were multiple levels of smoke and mirrors, chaos masking specific goals, but when everything was said and done most people were relatively unharmed. Little collateral damage in human life. If someone was being targeted, they could be sure that Mechaniacal had an interest in them, specifically.

  A thought that was made suddenly relevant as a small point of light darted toward the hovering surveillance drone, one of Mechaniacal’s creations. Ike’s hand reached for over the emergency cutoff – one that would physically disable both the drone and the receiver, in case a tinker, machine-life, or information super tried to abuse the connection. Ike didn’t yet trust that Machine Head’s creations could stand up to that kind of mischief, especially if Mechaniacal was involved.

  Thumping and clicking sounds came from the pickup, and then a whirr as a lens slid over the camera pickup. A picture-in-picture appeared, projected over the camera view, and Ike relaxed marginally. This was a very Mechaniacal way of doing things, not bothering to subvert the drone but instead laying his own technology on top. Perhaps Mechaniacal couldn’t even hijack Machine Head’s work, given how distinctly different it was from Mechaniacal’s own style.

  The tinker himself appeared on the projection, as composed as ever in a suit, hat, and holding a vanity cane with a gear motif. Ike’s eyes lingered on the cane; he had a copy of it in the vaults, the deceptively simple accessory featuring a mind-bendingly dense array of gears, springs, and materials that were found nowhere else. He had to wonder if Mechaniacal had made others and simply retrieved one, or if the tinker had created a new one in mere days.

  “Director Ichabod!” Mechaniacal said, hands laced together on top of the cane. “I assume you’re watching the feed from this device. My devices have detected a speaker, so if you would be so kind as to respond, we can have a proper conversation.” Ike glanced to Glorybeam, then shook his head in near-disbelief before toggling the very small speaker on the surveillance drone.

  “Professor Mechaniacal,” Ike said, not bothering to correct the title. It was an odd quirk the man had, perhaps a remnant from his former timeline. “What is so urgent that you needed to hijack my infrastructure?”

  “Oh, nothing urgent as such,” Mechaniacal said, appearing to focus on Ike through the pickup even though that was not even slightly possible. “It just seemed this was a good way to talk. I very much doubt you would trust one of my devices or would wish to meet face-to-face, under the circumstances.”

  “Indeed not,” Ike said, unamused. “I remember what you can do, even if many people these days do not.”

  “Alas, memories are short,” Mechaniacal said, flourishing his cane. “But that is a discussion for another time. I have certain questions. No matter what you may think, I am in fact quite interested in reversing the unfortunate depowering of your Glorybeam—” Glorybeam herself made a small noise, and Mechaniacal tilted his head. It wouldn’t have registered as more than the tiniest, faintest hint on the room microphones, so clearly Mechaniacal was doing some kind of improbable analysis on the speaker and not just listening.

  “Oh, is she there too, then? Regardless, the mechanism is certainly fascinating, not a power I have run into before, but the remnants left behind are not enough to reverse the process. The resonant imprinting—” Mechaniacal cut himself off from what was likely going to be a very technical rant. “I need to find the super originally responsible for the material alteration effect that my imitator used.”

  “You and me both,” Ike said, darkly glad, in some way, to point Mechaniacal at the incredibly strange super that he’d been chasing. “Isaac Hartson is difficult to find. Whatever his power may be allows him to very easily change identities, well enough to obfuscate conventional scrying. He was last seen in the middle of the explosion that failed to destroy your lab, but he has so far been slippery enough that I doubt that matters.” Ike considered for a moment, then decided he might as well be completely transparent.

  “I can send you some of our notes, but be aware he is capable of mental influence without actual telepathic contact. From his discussions we have on file, he has begun expanding his portfolio to metaphysical effects. I don’t have to tell you how dangerous that can be.” There was no proof, but Ike suspected that the primary reason Mechaniacal was so terribly powerful was that he had, himself, expanded his tinkering to the metaphysical realm. It was one thing to build machines that could wind springs; it was another to create mechanisms that could wind time.

  “Oho?” Mechanical tilted his head, grey eyes sharpening. “Sounds like an interesting puzzle to solve. Send over your files however you like, I will be waiting. I’m afraid there’s little progress I can make on Glorybeam’s issues until I have the opportunity to work with this Isaac Hartson.”

  “And what about the depowerment ray itself?” Ichabod asked, before Mechaniacal could disconnect. “That is something that needs to be removed from contention.” If there was something that could actually get people all lined up to take Mechaniacal out, it would be the threat of many permanent depowerment drones under far more competent control.

  “The long term consequences of such a weapon are destabilizing at the very least,” Mechaniacal said, frowning. “Not only will I undertake to ensure such a thing does not proliferate, but ensure the reversal is widely available. I have no desire to see such a thing turned on me. No, you can be certain that will be handled quite carefully.” Ike figured that was as good as he was going to get, and toggled off the microphone as Mechaniacal’s image faded.

  “We need to find Hartson first,” Ike said to Glorybeam, who nodded solemnly. “If Mechaniacal wants to use that talent, then we want it for ourselves twice as much. Especially if Hartson could remove the depower effect himself.” He tapped the intercom button, opening a channel to the resident information super.

  “Vilmonica? I have a task for you and Mocker. Time to reopen the Hartson file.”

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