38.2 - Evening at Pops

Bill G. said:

Doyce T. said:

RossumRk

“Who was my mother, really?”

Rossum - whichever Rossum this is, as far as his personal timeline is concerned, he seems to be “Rossum” enough for all intents and purposes - looks up at you. His expression is sad - grim? Determined?

No. Resigned.

He nods.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever studied the timeline of my activities in any great depth, but it can’t have escaped your notice that my rise as a criminal hyper-genius coincides fairly closely with your first birthday.”

“There are a few other key events near that time as well. One of them - fairly common at the time, was the Halcyon Heroes League, saving the world.”

His eyes are on the table, not you, as he speaks. “By their own assessment, the greatest contribution Tempest and Silver Streak ever made to one of those ‘heroic rescues’ was when their arch nemesis, King Winter, used his cold powers to summon every comet and bit of ice from outer space, sending it hurtling towards the Earth. They - literally - made the Earth move, and saved the human race. Even the damage from the resulting Tsunamis were, largely, mitigated. Thousands died but, as the news agencies were quick to point out - it was ONLY thousands; it could have been millions.”

His face, still gazing years into the past, twists. “And those thousands were largely on small islands in the Pacific and carribean so, really, who cared?”

“I could give you a name if you like, but the fact is, your mother wasn’t anyone, son. Except a biologist who loved the water. Except your mother. Except my wife. Except one of the people killed by Silver Streak and Tempest while they were saving the world.”

‘There’s nothing you could have done, Streak, as bad as what my father has done - you need forgive yourself.’

“And of course she was the reason I set out to be, if not their nemesis, at least a force multiplier on every. Single. Foe they would ever face.”

He finally looks up. “If you want karmic retribution on me for my sins as a father, I assure you, the fact you’re working with them, and their son…” he looks away, shaking his head.

author: Doyce T.
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