Chapter 15: God in a Skirt

"It wasn't supposed to be like this..." the doctor whispered into his beard, his eyes fixed on the remains of Eva's defective siblings. "It wasn't supposed to end like this, they weren't supposed to be born at all."

It was as if he was trying to justify himself to himself. After all, the scientist is well aware that he is largely responsible for all this. If he had not made this mess, there would be no Eve, if he had not escaped from the project, hiding Eve, there would be no others. But he is wrong about one thing: this is not the end, not even close to it...

Something had changed, I felt it before I saw it with my eyes or realized it with my mind. My Vitrumite essence, my soul, or whatever is responsible for supernatural abilities, sensed a powerful something appear before me and begin to affect the world around me. Not just affecting, but literally overpowering everything. My first instinct was to destroy the threat! The second, when I held back the first: to get away from her. Neither of them came from my personality, much less my mind. It was bare instinct, the quintessence of my race's existence, hidden in the genes. We are like territorial predators, instinctively pouncing on any rival who comes to challenge our power and authority. But I have the good sense to dictate my instincts and make my own decisions.

After all, Eve did it - overcame the mental block of her creators and unleashed her full power. That's exactly what I felt.

Under Doc and I's rapt gazes, the girl soared over the ground - this time she didn't need jets, she controlled her body directly, making it levitate - and flew toward the remains of the Two.

Stretching her arm over the dead man, she began muttering something about feeling everything and controlling all matter -thoughts aloud, it seemed - and being able to reverse everything. In addition to levitation, there were several external effects of the awakening power: I don't know if it was necessary, but several tiny, obscure objects appeared around her and began to move in elliptical orbits. Electrons? As in the planetary model of the atom, which Eve took as her symbol... but after all, electrons are not corpuscles and... not pink... Ah, screw it, better not to think about it. Besides, not only these new "electron satellites", but even the air around her somehow turned pink after releasing her full power... this girl likes pink, what can I say.

Finally, she moved from words to actions and we, mesmerized, could watch as the children, who seemed to have already left this world, come back. They rose in a pink glow from the green slime their bodies had turned to a few seconds earlier. It's not very pretty, it's their own fault that they didn't turn into noble ash after death, but into a stinking sludge.

In a matter of seconds, Eve brought her dead relatives back to life, and not only reversed everything, but corrected the flaws as well. There were no more red skin, no more creepy humps, no more crooked faces, not even bald spots - just the same kind of kids that thousands attend my school. Except that "Two" was unchanged, but he originally had no outward manifestations of disfigurement other than an unclosed mouth.

Among other things, she also made the kids new clothes, quite normal, everyday clothes, instead of the one-piece shorts melted by their toxic remains.

"What?" Double, soon to need a new name, stared at his hands in shock, looked around, saw the other resurrected ones, turned to Eve, still hovering in the air. "You brought us back and... fixed us?"

Except that she didn't respond. The electrons suddenly orbited in pink uncertainty waves, the air cleared of the pink filter, and Eve herself, closing her eyes, fell into my arms... well, she was falling to the ground, but I took the opportunity to use my super-speed to pick her up.

"Happy new birth," I grinned at the boys, and then, unable to help myself, added. "Risen from the slime."

That frail little girl sleeping in my arms had great power, who'd have thought? But raising the dead wasn't the end of the surprise. While I was playing the gentleman and the humorist, believing that the worst was over, I was already being hunted.

I didn't even realize right away what had happened. Just a flash of heat on my skin, a click somewhere in my neck, the sound coming from inside my skull, not through my ears, and me, stunned, being whisked away to the side.

I was unconcerned, too caught up in the spectacle Eve was putting on, and I missed the arrival of the new adversaries. However, I am not Spider-Man to feel any threat in advance, and not a Kryptonian with super hearing to make out in the cacophony of noise suspiciously quiet flapping of the propellers of a helicopter hovering high in the sky.

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And the bullet, alas, overtakes the sound of the shot. A treacherous projectile, twenty millimeters at least, and with a reinforced armor-piercing core, plunged straight into my neck at a dangerous angle. I don't know if the sadistic sniper had deliberately chosen such a spot, but my cervical vertebrae appreciated his choice. In any other scenario, even a direct hit to the head-except for the eyes-would have taken no damage at all, but the neck... a very fragile place anatomically.

The effect felt comparable to an athlete getting hit in the base of the neck with a baseball. Extremely unpleasant and, with some bad luck, traumatic, but still not fatal.

I was more stunned than injured. I was back in control before I'd even reached the wall - just stopping my forced flight by creating a reverse momentum - so I looked up to where the present had come from.

There, high in the sky, hovered a hollowed-out helicopter. The muzzle of a monstrously huge cannon with several barrels looked in my direction from the open side door - not an elephant, but a tank.

I caught the next bullet not with my neck, but with my palm. I defiantly squeezed the weighty block, looking at the shooter: I know you're looking, bitch!

For a moment I even thought I heard a startled, "shit". But of course that couldn't be, I don't have a keen ear.

Speaking of baseball, I suddenly remembered my father's lessons about throwing a ball into the stratosphere, and I didn't deny myself the pleasure of using the skills I had learned back then. I had been a baseball fan in my day, too.

When I handed Eve over to the doctor, I swung my arms, recalling my high school coach's instructions, and threw the hardest pitch of my career.

"Strike," I grinned grimly, staring at the smoky propeller of the car.

The helicopter began its descent from the sky, wagging its tail but not going into an uncontrollable descent, but even before the machines reached the ground, the... uh, spacemen jumped out of it. Not real ones, of course, but these guys in full armor and futuristic appearance, with jetpacks behind them, evoked associations of space and paratroopers.

And the head of the space landing party was a very happy bald negro in a brown business suit and equipped with the very same mega-gun - this is the real KillCannon - which just shot at me. But the worst thing about this situation was that the symbols on the paratroopers' armor made it clear that they were involved with the U.S. government.

Note:

* The ball was adamantium, okay? That's why it didn't rub off on the air and evaporate upon hitting, God forbid, a mountain peak. Or at least made in the local Amazon as a gift to Omnimen, in the hope that he would someday stop by for bread and salt.

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