Masks XVI

by

Rodford Edmiston

The Outside Man

Part One

"Are you sure about this?" asked Brade, as she scrolled through the translated report on her computer.

"The German Chancellor called me personally," said the President. Her voice was a bit scratchy over the speaker phone, due to the utilities in the region still being somewhat kludged. "Said both the fact that they knew nothing about it beforehand and that the initial investigation ran into serious problems - three people died and five others were injured - tells him it needs to be checked out with super help immediately. They also want people with recent experience exploring hidden old bases. Considering what's been found in secret bases lately, I agree."

"I'll set it up, then," said Brade, with a sigh.

"I know, we're all tired," said the President, in a sympathetic tone. "I think the worst part of this recovery is the people who feel honor bound to take advantage of all the problems, rather than to help with them. Hell, this afternoon I have to meet with a member of Congress who thinks that an alien invasion and a war which cost tens of thousands of lives and caused billions in damage is no reason for him to stop advancing his personal agenda. Which is to fight against everything I do."

After ending the call Brade scowled at the report on her screen. The situation seemed minor on the surface, but something told her she needed to take it seriously. She checked her assignment sheet, and found that the team most experienced with exploring bases had all three members available. So was Ike Kenniman, for that matter, which was a definite bonus. However, two of the team members had been in the thick of the War and were on mandatory leave. Well, that leave was to rest them after what they'd been through, with the War and the early part of the recovery. Hopefully, giving them a different sort of task would actually help take their minds off their experiences. Brade smiled, as she remembered Winston Churchill's motto "A change is as good as a rest." She didn't think that always held true, but it definitely did in some cases.

Of course, even if the personnel she wanted agreed to take the assignment they'd need to work with someone local. More likely, several someones. Some of those would almost certainly need to be law enforcement, probably federal. Brade set to work.

* * *

The man entered the Oval Office in an unhurried but very much not relaxed manner. He moved directly to the single seat in front of the President's desk. He was sweating from walking through the July heat, and should have been grateful to be in one of the few buildings in the capital city with both emergency power and intact air conditioning. Instead, he looked as if every moment, every step, was a personal insult. Small wonder, since he'd been ordered here by the President from the secure bunker where he and many other members of Congress were currently living. It was safe, there. He was settled in, following a routine. Go back outside?! That was dangerous and disruptive!

This was a private meeting; there were no aides here for either him or Sievers. However, a pair of men from the Secret Service stood unobtrusively not far from the visitor. That they were unusually large men was no accident. Sudgrave responded to the President's greeting and extended hand by ignoring both and sitting abruptly. The President had hoped they could at least be civil, but this frosty action disabused her of that expectation.

Mark Sudgrave was a member of the opposition. An ambitious, driven man, he frequently strove - in vain, so far - for the position of his party's leadership in the House. His lack of success was largely due to holding views most of his own party members considered extreme. He had been a thorn in President Sievers' side from well before she won her first-term as President. He had even been overheard - about halfway through that first campaign - suggesting a Constitutional amendment restricting the office of President to men only. He later claimed he was making a joke, but no-one was laughing, then or now. One of his recent actions had actually driven some of his remaining supporters away from him, and small wonder. At a time when everyone should be helping with the aftermath of the War, he was persisting in his personal vendetta against the President. She decided to skip the pleasantries and be direct.

"I want to know why you started impeachment proceedings against me," said Sievers, managing a civil tone.

"You never made a declaration of war!" shouted Sudgrave, throwing his arms wide in a dramatic gesture. Perhaps he expected to shock her. Since he had behaved this way in practically every meeting they'd had, he failed.

"In the first place, they attacked us," said the President, trying to be reasonable. "If I'd gone through the process of a formal declaration of war, we'd have been defeated and occupied before it was completed. The whole war was over well within the permitted sixty days, anyway."

"You've always got an excuse, don't you?" said Sudgrave, acidly. "Well, you're not getting away with it this time!"

"Okay, enough with trying to be polite," said Sievers, angrily. "Mark, in case you hadn't noticed, the war's over and we won. Right now we need to focus on rebuilding and repairing, but you're doing things which will only cause delay. Let it drop."

"Or what? You'll arrest me? Like you did your own Vice-President?"

"Harold is not under arrest."

"Then where is he?" said Sudgrave, stabbing his right index finger down onto her desktop in another practiced, dramatic gesture.

"He and I are not on speaking terms right now. He resigned of his own free will and I am working on a replacement. I suggest you let that matter drop, as well, and let's get back to your own potentially treasonous act."

"The last resort of scoundrels is patriotism!"

"Even if you got that quote right, it would apply to you, not me."

"Me?! How could I possibly be a scoundrel?! Or treasonous?!"

"That's a strange question - and an even stranger attitude - from a man who caused major delays in the acquisition of the Brown Racer fighters and their Harpy missiles," said Sievers, acidly. "One of the few weapons combinations effective against the Shilmek ships. All because of that juicy deal you got for supporting a less capable plane which would have cost much more."

"Now, just a moment..."

"No, you 'just a moment!'" she snapped, suddenly leaning forward and jabbing a finger at him, making him reflexively pull back from one of his own favorite gestures. "You repeatedly and consistently not only voted against every measure I took to defend this planet and this nation, you worked both openly and behind the scenes to sabotage my efforts! You're lucky I have been too busy to have you charged with treason!"

"You... you can't talk to me like that!"

"Wake up, Sudgrave! You were wrong! Wrong about me, about the invasion and about your choice of friends and what actions to back. I will not roll over and let you try and pretend all your mistakes were my fault, much less now than I would have before the War! So either shut up, sit down and do what's best for this country or I'll have the Justice Department accelerate their investigation of your activities in the SuperCharger fighter scandal!"

"That's blackmail!"

"No, that's politics. Something I usually try to avoid. However, if you don't see reason, I will demonstrate - as I have before - that I can play dirty with the worst of them. As much as that would hinder our recovery work, it would stop you from doing something much worse."

She sat back and crossed her arms.

"Now see here...!"

"I believe the President is through," said the Secret Service man who had moved up to his right side.

Sudgrave suddenly realized that he was not going to be allowed to have his say. This was such an unfamiliar experience for him that he was momentarily at a loss. The two Secret Service agents in the room weren't. The took him ungently by the upper arms and shoulders, bodily lifted him from the chair and marched him from the Oval Office.

"God," said the President, after Sudgrave was gone. Alone, now, she put her head in her hands. Do I have to declare martial law just to get the political idiots to back off long enough to handle a national - actually, planet-wide - emergency?!

She'd already declared a state of emergency for the whole country and its possessions. Every US citizen had been affected - over half directly - by the invasion. The least harmed were helping themselves and their own first, and Sievers couldn't fault them for that. She just hoped this little talk would motivate Sudgrave to actually do his job. That would be much better than her using time and resources prosecuting an admittedly good deal maker.

"All right," said the President, straightening and steeling herself. "Let's get back to work."

At least she could currently focus almost entirely on domestic problems. Most of the world was still in shock, with both leaders and citizens focused on fixing the local problems the War had caused. This meant there were currently few international disagreements, and most of those were over resources needed for recovery from the War. Only a few radical voices were starting to blame the attack on their usual enemies. There was even a vague hope among diplomats that the recent, horrible events would bring greater unity to the world. President Sievers held little hope for this. However, one of her priorities - though well down on the list - was to do what she could for both allies and enemies.

* * *

Energia didn't really feel like meeting with her teammates just now. In fact, she didn't feel like doing much of anything. She was on mandatory leave, and had been enjoying the peace and quiet that brought. However, the message had sounded urgent, so here she was. She landed on the roof of the "bakery" and entered the head of the stairs. She then shucked out of her space suit and carefully put it away. One of the benefits of the remodeling was a closet on the top landing there which would recharge her suit. The latest model - which she had received only a few weeks before the War - had stealth features. All the previous ones had been silvery on the outside, like something out of a Sixties TV show. This one had a matt black finish.

As Energia flew down the staircase in Blue Impact's headquarters she heard voices. One of them male.

She went on her guard, just a bit. Then relaxed when she saw that the man was Ike Kenniman; Dr. Device, himself. The others present were her teammates.

"Ah, there she is," said Blue Impact, as Energia lofted over the railing and headed for Gadgetive to give her an affectionate hug. "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it," said Energia, her tone less enthusiastic than she intended as she gave the two older supers a slightly less warm greeting. "So, what's up?"

"Here we go again," said Gadgetive, grinning.

Energia gave her a puzzled glance.

"You up for a mission this Thursday?" said Ike. He shrugged and grinned. "Sorry about the short notice but we only just learned about it."

"Not another underground base," said Energia, sourly.

"Got it in one!" said Gadgetive, with a smirk.

"Did you really think you'd need all three of you to talk me into it?" said Energia, playfully.

Despite her tiredness, she was actually feeling a bit excited. A dungeon crawl was far better than killing thousands while fighting to defend the Earth. Despite the occasional badgerbear or ambush.

"Brade called Blue Impact and me to see if we thought you two would be okay with a mission when you're supposed to be resting," said Ike. "I found Gadgetive and she said we should make an outing of it; that I should come here and talk to Blue Impact in person, then call you and invite you here for the same purpose."

"So, what's the situation?"

"During the War, the Shilmek bombarded a small section of the Harz Mountains which had no known military presence or infrastructure value," said Ike. "A weak, encoded signal began broadcasting from there. Turns out it was in an old Nazi Army code, one of those they developed after learning Enigma had been beaten. Decoded, it said 'Containment failing,' plus some garbled stuff, over and over. It came to a sputtering stop after three days. Locals told investigators the Nazis had a secret, underground research installation there during - and by some accounts, for several years after - the Second World War. Which, for some reason, they never mentioned to anyone outside the area before.

"Preliminary investigators checking the area encountered problems, some of them fatal. Germany asked President Sievers for help investigating, given recent experience among US supers with this sort of thing. She wants you three and me to give that help."

"Okay," said Energia, thinking it through. "I assume the message was some sort of automated thing..."

"Yeah. Towards the end of the War both sides made major advances in automation. The US developed the Music Box control system - AKA Joe the Cam - for their Argus reconnaissance satellite, as just one example. Because they were running so short on trained people, the Nazis used those technologies much more extensively than the Allies did.

"Anyway, the location is in Bode Gorge, which has a bedrock of Ramberg granite. Great for putting a secure base into, though not so great for easy digging. After the war the area was under Russian control until the Soviet Union collapsed in 1950. Local communists took over until the mid-Sixties. By the time Germany reunited the base was long forgotten."

"We'll work with some national police and a regional super, a woman named Dampf," said Blue Impact. "As her name implies, she has water control powers."

"Okay, I'm in," said Energia. "I'm just a little puzzled about why there's so much concern over this that they're sending us there, instead of having us help with law enforcement or reconstruction work in the US."

"We're all officially on break from that," said Blue Impact. "In fact, we're prohibited from working any more on the reconstruction until next year. All part of the regulations affecting those who were in the thick of the battle; we're on rotation. However, the Germans are putting just about every super they have into recovery projects, straight through until those are done. Meanwhile, folks all over the world are making a point of checking anything the Shilmek paid particular attention to. They seem to have detected things long forgotten, some of which are turning out to be significant, though usually not urgent. This is expected to be a low stress job. We just use our experience to help the locals get in and do a preliminary inspection."

"You know that's not how it's going to turn out," said Energia, again sourly.

"Do you want to help or not?" said Gadgetive, pointedly.

"Well, sure. I'm just saying we need to be ready when things go south."

"Just you be ready by seven tomorrow morning," said Blue Impact, pointedly. "There's several time zones difference between here and there and we'd like to get that valley early enough locally to have time to get a lot of work done that day."

* * *

The memorial service for Buzz - in his home town, at his family's group of plots - was quiet and respectful. That is, pretty much the opposite of what Buzz himself had been. Some confessed later that they were tempted to pull some prank or other, but just didn't have the nerve or the energy.

His family turned out to be good people, though they all seemed mystified as to what Buzz had actually done with his life. Not because they didn't know; they just had trouble understanding what they knew. Which was typical of the impish Buzz.

Back at the Assembly base there was a somewhat less restrained service, which evolved into part wake and part comic eulogy. During this people told stories about the deceased member, and there actually were a couple of pranks pulled. Paula begged off early, but Susan elected to stay a while longer. Back in their quarters, Paula showered and changed into sleepwear, but decided against going to bed just yet. She was still having trouble getting to sleep, on occasion having to use her powers to encourage that. Instead, she browsed the Internet for a while, then did a bit of housecleaning.

That was when she found the bottle of ibuprofen. The one which had given her such trouble several months back. She had put it on the dresser after finally getting the one tablet out, and it was quickly pushed behind something and forgotten.

Paula opened the bottle and deftly dumped a single pill into her left palm. She put that back, then dumped two. Then three. She switched hands and performed the same test, going from left to right, just as successfully. She then put all the pills back, since she didn't actually need them. Her health was perfect, these days.

Too easy, she thought, with a sour expression, as she put the bottle in the medicine cabinet.

So many things were easy, now. However, some of the things she most wanted were hard. A few were very hard. One was impossible.

Paula sighed. She should be happy. She was empowered, perfectly healthy, had a wide range of abilities which she was still learning about, and had the potential to live a very, very long time. She could become Champion, again. She didn't want to.

Why is it different, now? Why am I so dissatisfied?

Paula wondered if her first transformation by Atana had included some sort of psychological alteration, to make her adaptation easier. Or maybe it had all just been so fresh, then... so novel...

She shook her head, and went back to her computer.

* * *

The borrowed VTOL craft circled the large, still steaming crater slowly, staying in the air on direct thrust.

"The mountain... just isn't there anymore!" said Solange, her voice almost a wail.

She hadn't been living there nearly as long as some of the others who were now displaced by the destruction of the Intrepids base. In some ways, though, it was more her home - her refuge - than it had been any of theirs.

"We'll fix it," said the Black Mask, confidently. "Even if we have to build a new mountain to put it in."

"Later, though," said Bowman. "We're fine for now in the old Guild Hall, thanks to the generosity of the Assembly."

"I can't believe how much effort the Shilmek expended on this place," said Jet Jaguar, obviously both astounded and intimidated. "They went deep into the basement rock under the mountain... much deeper than any of our facilities!"

"Our team has repeatedly given the Shilmek trouble," said Bowman, as he turned the craft northeast. He smiled in a satisfied manner. "Just as we did this time."

"This is also one of the places which might have been hosting Queen Tolnar," the Black Mask pointed out.

"I'm worried about funding," said Colossa. "There's so much rebuilding to be done..."

"There's no hurry. We have a good place to operate out of. We've already updated the computer system and installed Bunter."

"Two teams operating out of back-to-back bases just isn't natural," said Rapscallion, in mock outrage. "Should be face-to-face."

He smirked.

"Or doggy style."

Most ignored him. The rest just groaned and looked away.

Part Two

"God damn, I'm a horny bitch!" said Michelle, laughing as she watched Vic pose in the sexy bustier the stylist had bought for the super. "Whooo! You make me wet just standing there, girl!"

"I don't know how I let you talk me into this," said Vic, embarrassed but also incredibly aroused.

"Are you kidding? Your nipples got so hard when we were putting that on you I'm surprised they didn't puncture the fabric!"

Michelle was now a full-fledged stylist, and earning good money. Good enough to move to a better apartment. Vic insisted on paying part of the rent, since she spent most of her weekends and some weeknights here. Being one of the first recruits for the Bureau of Special Resources meant she had a lot of say in her area of assignment.

"So," purred Vic, "do I look good enough to eat?"

Her lover laughed so hard she almost fell off the bed, which made Vic laugh.

"Oh, you naughty, naughty girl! Come here. You need to be punished."

Smiling, heart pounding, Vic sauntered sexily over to Michelle.

"I'm afraid you'll have to help me get this off," she said, in a mock-timid tone. "I'm not that familiar with women's garments."

"Oh, you're going to get off, all right," said Michelle, pulling Vic down on top of her, then rolling them over.

They kissed, long and slow, Vic kneading Michelle's ass while she, frustratingly, did nothing with her hands.

"I hate it when you tease," said Vic, quietly, when they finally took a break.

"It's called foreplay, hun," said Michelle, smiling as she pushed Vic's hair out of her face. "You usually get off pretty quick, but I tend to need more time. So, c'mon, work with me."

"Sure," said Vic, smiling. "Now, can you get me out of this thing?"

"Not yet," said Michelle, back to teasing.

As it turned out, Vic didn't get out of that bustier for nearly two more hours... and then only because Michelle wanted to save water in the shower.

* * *

"Sometimes it doesn't seem fair," said Vic, quietly, much later. "I feel... guilty."

"That so many died or were seriously injured or lost someone they love, and you're here with me?"

Vic nodded, and Michelle hugged her closer.

"I still have trouble believing Cosmic Ray is dead," said Vic, even more quietly. "Poor Doro."

"One of my best customers was a Major in the Army," said Michelle, trying to be calm and not succeeding. Tears formed as she continued. "She was one of those who volunteered to stay at her base and make it look fully occupied. None of them lived."

They hugged, and were silent the rest of the night.

* * *

When Template entered the meeting room in the old Pine base she was surprised to see their Lunie liaison already present. For a moment she thought he was in the wrong place, or that maybe she was. As busy as they all were these days, she wouldn't be surprised if they were both in the wrong room. Then she remembered the Lunies were offering their automated building technology to help with the aftermath of the War. Since this meeting was on what advanced technologies could be applied and how to rebuilding both super facilities and civilian infrastructure, of course he should be there.

"You can't be this eager to talk about advanced construction techniques," said Template, in a tired joke.

"I wanted to catch you early to let you know about something which is probably important but not urgent enough for its own meeting."

"Which is?" said Template.

"Have you heard about the Moon Scouts?" said Jimmy Kent.

"What about the Moon Scouts?" said Template, not really in the mood for an indirect approach.

The Pine Island Academy hadn't been completely untouched by the war, but damage here had been almost trivial. This meant it was being used both to house displaced supers - including some entire teams and the surviving members of other teams - and to help plan the recovery elsewhere. Aside from the Pine base, the Pioneers had moved into their reserve facility on the island while their mainland base was being repaired. They were also hosting a number of supers there.

Most of the job of organizing, overseeing (and occasionally refereeing) these matters fell to Template. Just now, she and Jimmy were in an otherwise empty conference room which Pine had used for presenting his commercial products to prospective buyers. As with so much of that inventor mastermind's work, it was grandiose. The room was much larger than it needed to be, especially vertically, and had a massive oak table. The main display screen - original but refurbished by the school's teachers and students - was likewise more suited to a small theater than a meeting room. The layout was obviously designed to be intimidating.

"Something about all the activity in space during the attack caused that old computer to switch to a different mode," said Jimmy. He shrugged. "Maybe the events triggered a memory or started a subroutine. Whatever it was, the computer suddenly directed all the Scouts - most of whom were busy fighting the Shilmek - towards a single location. Some didn't manage to make it there until after the surrender, but once they were all in one place they were instructed to excavate... something from the solid bedrock. They then used their powers to send it to the Moon."

"Buh?!" said Template, who had only been half listening before, the rest of her mind on the upcoming meeting.

This, though, got her attention. The energy required to move something that far out of the Earth's gravity well... She'd thought the ancient ship housing the computer was badly damaged. If it could still muster that much energy it could present a significant danger.

"Yeah. Some sort of advanced teleportation. This exhausted their powers and left them stranded in civilian form in the middle of the Canadian Shield."

"That's..." Template had been in that region for weeks during her work at that diamond mine. She had a good idea of just how bad that situation might be for someone unpowered, unprepared and unequipped, even during the Summer.

"Fortunately for them, we detected the disturbance caused by the teleportation. Also, their excavation caused seismic disturbances which were already being investigated by the Canadian government. They were worried it was either more Shilmek activity or someone taking advantage of the post-War confusion to do something bad."

"So they were rescued."

"Yeah. They're rather depressed and confused. They were depowered and cut off from contact with their... I guess you could say sponsor, completely without warning or explanation. It simply left them stranded and pretty much helpless."

"So what does the computer have to say about all this?" said Template, starting to feel worried.

"So far, it hasn't communicated with us, even though we've called it repeatedly. However, we are detecting considerable activity. We think it's completing the repairs to get underway. Hopefully, it'll leave the Moon and go back wherever it came from."

"Great," said Template, with a gusty sigh. "One more thing to worry about."

* * *

The large apergy travel pod settled silently and gracefully onto the grassy meadow. Six uniformed German police officers - members of the Bundespolizei - plus a man in a suit and a woman in a costume waited by their own two vehicles for the three women and one man to exit the pod. Beyond the Germans was a pile of fresh rubble, and beyond that a pair of large, old-looking metal doors, set into a face of cut rock, under an overhang of same.

"Wow," said Energia, looking around and seeming impressed. "Reminds me of my family's trip to the Red River Gorge, only moreso. Gorgeous!"

"It's trees and rocks," said Gadgetive, with a shrug.

The man in the suit led the procession to greet the quartet.

"Karl Schmidt, of the Bundeskriminalamt," he said, shaking hands all around. He gestured towards the woman. "This is Dampf, one of our premier costumed law enforcement officers."

"I am very pleased to meet you," said Dampf, smiling as she also shook hands.

Her English wasn't as smooth at Schmidt's, but still quite understandable. She wore a full-body costume in shades of blue and green. However, there was no mask, only a snug-fitting hood which left her entire face bare. It looked much like some cold water swimming suits.

Schmidt next introduced the uniformed officers. They nodded, but said nothing and did not offer to shake hands.

"Until we determine what is inside this mountain, only we six will enter," said Schmidt, sternly, indicating the supers and himself. "These men will maintain a cordon around whatever entrance we use."

"We saw what looked like several fresh craters and a large sinkhole along a line below that ridge," said Blue Impact, pointing. "That last and the very impressive steel doors over there seem to be the only ways in."

"Those are all we have found, as well," said Schmidt, nodding. "The first team lowered themselves into the sinkhole on climbing ropes. Their investigation was barely started when they triggered a rock slide, with disastrous results for them. As for the doors..."

Blue Impact nodded, immediately understanding that opening those doors without heavy equipment or high explosives would likely require powers.

"Was the sinkhole caused by the Shilmek attack?" said Ike.

"Yes. They blasted the ridge in several places, but when they struck there it punched through into some sort of cavity, likely artificial. For some reason that seemed to satisfy them, and they ceased fire.

"We weren't certain why they bombarded this mountain," said Schmidt, "but that combined with the signal we soon detected coming from here made us very concerned, so as soon as we could we sent a patrol here to examine it.

"The attack also uncovered that large portal behind me. From what we have learned, it was apparently covered deliberately late in the Second World War, or immediately after. The locals tell us there was some sort of extensive installation here, begun by the Nazis in Nineteen Forty-three. Something completely absent from our records."

"Secret Nazi base of unknown purpose with at least some equipment still functioning," said Ike, nodding. "Yeah. I can understand the concern. Let's get busy."

* * *

Energia flew over and around the hole, taking her time. This was great flying weather and terrain, the most fun she'd had in the air since before the War. The hole was more than deep enough for her to drop completely out of sight, and roughly as wide as a basketball court. She hovered above the chaotic rubble in the bottom for a while, noting with a shudder a few splotches of blood left by the previous explorers. She didn't land or even touch anything, just looked with normal and super senses and used the camera Gadgetive had given her. The video was sent in real time to the flyer, where the others watched. After completing a thorough examination of the hole, she flew straight up, to well above the treetops. From there she took video of the rest of the damaged areas. Then, a bit reluctantly, she concluded her survey and returned to where the others waited.

"They punched through the rock and a thick layer of concrete with a lot of rebar," she said. "It's all a tumble of rubble. I didn't see any way in. You'd probably need heavy construction equipment working for months to make one. If there's anything left besides the rubble."

"There is," said Dr. Device, with a confident nod. "I took magnetometer and gravimeter readings as we flew over. Besides whatever is immediately beyond those massive doors, there's a huge complex of chambers and tunnels under this mountain. Some of the chambers are surprisingly large."

Energia handed the camera back, then Gadgetive restarted the show. The flying super watched with the others as the young inventor paused, zoomed, enhanced and so forth. After a second play-through with a bit more tinkering, she was satisfied. Gadgetive put away the large, mobile screen she'd used to show the video and copied it to three memory sticks. One went to the uniformed police. One to the plainclothes policeman. One to Dampf.

"What do you suppose could be in there?" said Energia, puzzled. "What would they want to have out here, away from industry, railroads, highways, centers of population..."

"Typically, these installations were used for multiple purposes," said Ike, with a shrug. "Oh, they'd build something for one or two connected purposes, but they would subsequently accumulate more uses as the War went more and more against them."

"Why here?" said Blue Impact.

"All that rock overhead gives good protection against both detection and attack," said Ike. "Also, in places like this you can start in the side of the valley and dig in relatively easily on the horizontal, instead of having to dig down from level ground."

"During that time of the war," said Schmidt, "the Nazis were starting to work on major, sustained efforts for creating super weapons. They were still largely holding their own with their existing technologies, but both sides had been working on improving things since even before the War began, and both sides knew the other would continue. Given the heavy bombing campaign waged by the Allies, it made sense to place some installations in isolated areas, deep underground."

"All right," said, Ike, rubbing his hands together and smiling. "Next order of business, then, is a detailed examination of those doors. Dampf, if I remember correctly you can not only control water, but detect it and move through it?"

"Those are correct, yes," said the German super, nodding. "I become one with the water. I have moved through underground rivers before, to help miners and spelunkers in trouble."

"Excellent. These old bases often have flooded sections, so those abilities will be useful in multiple ways."

The supers and police walked the short hike to the exposed doors. The members of the Bundespolizei stopped at the base of the pile of debris which had fallen away from the artificial cliff face in which the massive doors were installed, while the six investigators clambered up that to the doors.

"First, let's look for gaps..." said Ike, rubbing his chin as he examined the portal.

"We have already done that," said Schmidt, perhaps a bit stiffly. "You can see where we even cleared the rubble away from the base."

"How high on the doors did you check?"

"To about halfway up."

Between Dr. Device and Gadgetive using drones and Energia flying on her own while carrying instruments the others provided, they soon completed the examination.

"Impressive," said Ike. "A fit like that of a quality safe door. We can't sneak a fiberoptic scope in, or anything else. Annoyingly, the doors are thick enough we can't get good scans through them, either."

He looked at Dampf.

"I have no sense of any water beyond, aside from expected humidity."

"So, we need to do this the hard way," said Energia, with a sigh.

* * *

One thing to their advantage, the original builders had - much as had the builders of cathedrals - recognized the inconvenience of opening those huge doors for the passage of mere humans. There was a person-sized door installed in the right large one. However, it was as thick and well-fitted as the larger doors. A few test thumps by Blue Impact revealed it was as securely fastened, as well.

"Not encouraging," said Gadgetive, running her hand over the outside of the smaller door. "I bet this thing was designed to only be opened from the inside."

"So who closed the door before they dropped part of the mountain on it, back in the Forties?" said Blue Impact. She didn't say anything, but worried they might find piles of long-dead bodies; murdered slave workers and their suicided masters. None of them needed that; especially not after what some of them had been through in the Shilmek War.

"Probably they had a smaller exit somewhere else," said Ike. "That's pretty standard. Some sort of escape shaft to the surface. Good luck finding it, though. Even if you do, they probably filled it in after the last man came out. That's also standard practice."

"So you want me to try and cut around the edges?" said Energia, starting to get impatient.

"Before we cause any damage, I wish to document as much of the operation as possible," said Schmidt.

He had one of the uniformed officers fetch a bag from his car. Inside was a slightly aged but good quality video recorder, with a tripod and lamp. He set this up and panned around as he gave a brief explanation in German. Meanwhile, the technical pair discussed the optimum approach for penetrating the door, complete with equations.

"I'm starting to feel like the odd one out here," said Blue Impact. "This door is far beyond my strength."

"You will likely find more purpose here than I," said Dampf, wryly. "My main use is to represent our government. As is herr Schmidt's."

"I'm not going to complain until we get inside," said Energia, with a contented sigh. "Just being out here, seeing these mountains and forests, breathing this wonderful air, is making me feel better than I have in a long while."

In the end the gadgeteers decided to kludge together a tunable cutting laser and use the power supply of the flyer. Out here, away from utilities, Energia had no quick way to recharge, so they were holding her in reserve for the moment.

"Same thing, every time," said Energia, in a mock-critical tone as she leaned against the flyer and watched the pair work. "Those two get involved in something technical and we two do nothing or are just used for fetch and carry or guard duty."

"Until the screaming starts and we have a big battle," said Blue Impact, from where she sat on a boulder nearby.

"Oh, yeah. Then they appreciate us."

"You two keep that up," said Gadgetive, in a stage mutter, as she and Ike worked, "and you can program the DVR next time."

"No choice," said Blue Impact, dryly. "You tossed the manual."

"I love the way you three interact," said Dampf, smiling. "It is obvious you are very good friends for a long time."

"What about me?" said Dr. Device. "I interact."

"Sorry, Ike, but you are literally the odd man out, here," said Blue Impact, grinning. "Only an auxiliary member."

The laser completed, Ike and Gadgetive loaded it into the flyer and brought that to the narrow cleared space in front of the doors. Once the device was out, Blue Impact flew the vehicle back to its previous location, to clear the area in front of the doors. She then ran a high-temperature superconductor cable from the flitter to the laser.

"Looks good," said Ike, after a brief inspection. "Now, you folks better get to cover. There'll be a lot of scatter from this and only Gadgetive and I have protection."

"Speak for yourself," said Energia, with a tight, smug grin.

"Oh. Right."

They tuned the laser first to the frequency at which the outer layer of corrosion was most absorbent. After tracing once slowly around the edge of the small door with that - basically to clean the surface - they switched to the frequency the bare metal best absorbed.

The work was slow, due to the laser being used at a low power setting. This was because they wanted to reduce the chance of damaging things on the other side. However, in a bit under an hour they had the door cut free. Energia and Blue Impact worked the thick slab of armor steel loose and pushed it in, then to one side. Beyond lay darkness.

"No power," said Ike, reaching through the opening with a probe.

"I'm sensing something in the distance," said Energia, frowning in concentration. "Faint, though."

"Yeah, there's something generating both AC and RF in there," said Gadgetive, using her own probe. "It's a good ways in, but definite."

"Just how extensive is this place?" said Blue Impact.

"It could go on for several kilometers," said Dampf.

"It does," said Ike, nodding.

They gathered their lights and other equipment, and entered.

* * *

Yes, Energia is genre aware. :-)