User visit: Mark Grayson

[a1enzo]

"Okay," says Enzo, leading Mark into the digimat room, "just stand over there in the target area so I can shoot you with this laser."

Comments

[a1enzo]

"We go out into the system a lot in the evenings, yeah." One does need to get off campus occasionally.

The girl smiles at him, to make it quite clear that this was not her idea. "I'm Alvey."

"She's cool," Enzo informs Mark. "She's one of my roommates' girlfriend, actually."

"I'm Gil," supplies their forward escort. He's a couple years days older than Enzo, with teal skin and a more conventional (if sci-fi-ish) sidearm.

[1nv1nc1ble]

"Well, that's good," replies Mark. "It'd suck if this was run like some weird digital boarding school."

"It's nice to meet both of you," says Mark sincerely. "So, now that we're all on speaking terms, can someone tell me what it is about Webcreatures that got the talking head with the Santa Claus beard so worked up?"

[a1enzo]

It is a weird digital boarding school. It's not a prison, though.

"Some Webcreatures are invasive," Alvey explains. "They're not really adapted to life in the Net, b-but it's still a safer environment than the Web. At least, we think that's why. Anyway, if one turns up in a system at all, it's usually the bad k-kind."

"And some of them can create portals," Gil adds. "So if they're not contained, they can spread from system to system."

Enzo says nothing, but looks grim. It's not a favourite topic.

[1nv1nc1ble]

"So, they just move in and take over?" Mark asks. "Sounds nasty. No wonder everyone went for the guns first."

"Good reactions," he says after a moment. "I don't think I'd have moved that fast."

(Well, truth be told, he'd have reacted slower, but moved a LOT faster.)

[a1enzo]

They may be unpowered, but they're very well trained.

"Thanks." "Thanks."

They enter the infirmary, where the Admin has arrived ahead of them; he raises an eyebrow at the chummy atmosphere. Seen in full, he has a build reminiscent of a bear preparing for hibernation.

"Mark... Administrator Rijndael." (It's pronounced more or less like Randall.)

[1nv1nc1ble]

The infirmary gets a onceover; Mark is mildly curious, now that he's here, on how it might look different from the school nurse's office. The introduction brings his attention around to the serious, if rotund, adult.

Well, at least the rest of him also looks like Santa Claus.... sorta, thinks Mark. His blank visage makes it hard to read, but he sounds properly respectful when he says, "Good afternoon, Administrator. My apologies for the ruckus. It wasn't intentional."

(The narrative will leave it to the reader whether or not Mark would have apologized for intentional ruckus.)

[a1enzo]

On the one hand, the infirmary has rather more scanners and monitors than Mark is likely used to. On the other hand, it also has corny posters and something that appears to be the digital equivalent of a rack of pamphlets.

Rijndael (who does look a bit like Santa Claus if Santa wore military uniform, could bench his own weight, and were inclined to consider you Naughty until proven Nice) gives Mark a piercing look for a moment and then nods. "Well, if you are a Webcreature, you're more polite than most. S'pose I should apologize for the reception. Seeing as how Cadet Matrix is involved"—he gives Enzo a this-is-doing-my-ulcer-no-good look—"I'm prepared to believe you, but I won't be executing my function if I don't confirm it."

[1nv1nc1ble]

"I understand,sir," says Mark, nodding. "You have to be true to your function."

Mark didn't really get that, prior to the digitization. But now, he can feel his own function - Hero - as part of his being, with a clarity and surety that he hadn't experienced before. What he thought of as simply following in his father's footsteps and a logical use of his superpowers now feels like a defining element of what makes Mark who he is, what makes him Invincible.

For a nineteen-year-old on the cusp of his adult life, it's a refreshingly unmuddied viewpoint.

He looks around the infirmary. "What's first?"

[a1enzo]

A binome speaks up, indicating the usual sort of table/bed found in any doctor's office. "Sit right there, please."

[1nv1nc1ble]

"Certainly," says Mark, seating himself on the table. He looks around, then adds, in a lower tone, "This isn't going to be comprehensive exam, is it? Because I think I might need a curtain." He looks around the infirmary at the collection of staff and bystanders (doubtless there are a few students loitering near the entrance).

"And maybe a gown."

[a1enzo]

"Probably not," says the doctor blithely. "Just hold still..."

He straps something like a sphygmomanometer onto Mark's upper arm, sticks an apparent thermometer in his mouth, and waves a device over him from all sides. It looks a bit like a metal detector wand such as airport security might have, except it glows brightly.

Lines of code start scrolling up a nearby screen. Both the doctor and the Admin scrutinize it.

"Well. That's new."

[1nv1nc1ble]

"Wmph nmph?" asks Mark. He pulls the - well, let's just call it a 'thermometer' for simplicity's sake - the thermometer out of his mouth, and repeats, "What's new?"

[a1enzo]

The doctor looks annoyed, but they've got enough data.

"Your code is definitely consistent with some types of Webcreature..."

"Among the more dangerous and malignant ones, too," puts in Rijndael.

"...up to a point. But... well, you are a hero format. The scanner doesn't lie."

[1nv1nc1ble]

"Huh," responds Mark. "Can't understand why. Viltrumites are, according to my father, an extremely advanced and benevolent society, dedicated to protecting and assisting other races."

He pauses, then adds, "I have to say, this format or function thing is a little strange. I mean, I know I'm a hero; I help people everyday. But this... reinforcement.... It's very... present."

[a1enzo]

Enzo shrugs. "Like I said, things don't always come out like you'd expect. Maybe it's just 'cause of your power levels."

"I've never seen these subroutines integrated like this," murmurs the doctor. "If I could do a more comprehensive scan..."

"Not on the first date," interjects Rijndael; Alvey giggles. "Well, lad, I'll admit it, you must be what you say. No one can fake a hero format but a Trojan horse, and if you are a Trojan horse, you're the worst one I ever heard of. No offence."

[1nv1nc1ble]

"None taken. I think," responds Mark. He's fairly sure that a "Trojan" is a virus of some sort, but he leaves the computer stuff to Robot. The Grayson Family has a computer, but it's mostly used for word processing and household finances, even in 2004.

"I guess if there's nothing else here," he says to Enzo, "then we should get going."

[a1enzo]

Enzo looks at the Admin, who nods and waves a hand. Enzo salutes. "Alvey, could you go on ahead and explain things to the band?"

Alvey nods and clicks her heels together. Transparent, glowing purple wheels spring out of her boot soles, lifting her up a couple of inches, and she skates off at speed.

[1nv1nc1ble]

"Nice to have met you, Administrator," says Mark, with as much sincerity as any teenager can muster when faced with an authority figure (which is actually quite a lot, though there's always the nagging suspicion that the adolescent in question is snarking behind the adult's back). "Again, sorry about all the commotion."

"Cute," Mark says to Enzo, as Alvey activates her rollergirl protocol. "Does she derby?"

[a1enzo]

"It keeps us on our toes, I suppose," says Rijndael, before reaching for a microphone and barking an all-clear.

Enzo nods as he leads Mark out. "That's her combat specialty. That and archery. She's got rocket boosters, too."

[1nv1nc1ble]

"Huh. Never thought of roller derby as a combat specialty," Mark comments. "I suppose it would make sense. It's definitely violent enough."

"Anyway, I guess I'm not a dangerous Webcreature after all," he continues. "So, where to from here?"

[a1enzo]

Perhaps a better way of putting it would be derby-style combat.

"Yori Hall. We use one of the hangars as a green room." He leads Mark out of the building and onto a central green ringed with various buildings. At the centre of the green is a large statue of four sprites. In keeping with the fine traditions of school campi everywhere, the elderly one has a flowerpot on his head.

[1nv1nc1ble]

Mark pauses in front of the statues. Three men and a woman, dressed in something similar to the uniforms of the Guardians that fill the campus, standing in heroic poses. "The Founders, I presume?"

He refuses to comment on the flower pot. The bust of Reginald Vel Johnson that adorns the foyer of his high school has been adorned with worse. (Mark's favorite was the souvenir sombrero from Tijuana that someone had managed to sneak past the school security in time for Cinco de Mayo.)

[a1enzo]

"The founder and his companions. Tron, Yori, Ram, and Dumont."

[1nv1nc1ble]

Mark nods. "Cool. Santa Cruz, the school I'm heading to next fall, just has this weird abstract sundial. I think some rich guy donated it, and no one wanted to turn him down."

"At least, it did when I took the tour. They might have had to take it down. A cyborg committed suicide on it.

[a1enzo]

"Say what?"