“I think it’s funny. What can I say?”

“You could show a little concern.”

“Why? I didn’t like you when you were the faggot from outer space. Why should I like you now that you’re the brood mare from the Bronx?”

“That is an incredibly, insensitive and disgusting thing to say. I suppose that’s the way you felt about Peregrine when she carried your child. You couldn’t see the woman. Just the bloated, distended body. Sex is the only thing that’s ever mattered to you. You haven’t even seen your child, have you?” His silence answered her question.

“You’re a fine one to be giving me a lecture on feminism. You weren’t exactly Mr. Sensitive.”

“I was never a pimp. And I would never have denied my child. But I don’t know why I expected anything different from you. The Ideal granted you great and potent powers. But you never understood that with great power comes great responsibility. You’ve abandoned anyone who’s ever had a claim upon you. Your mother, your women, your child… It is not the action of a grand seigneur.”

“Yeah, because I’m not one. I’m a half-black, half-Jap bastard who fought for everything I ever had, and I didn’t ask for any fucking favors.”

Looking into those angry black eyes, Tachyon considered rather belatedly that when one comes seeking favors, one ought not get on one’s high horse. She plaited a fold of her loose blouse. Pride was an unpalatable morsel to swallow. “I’m sorry” said Tach stiffly. “I should not have lectured you.”

“That’s one you’ve gotten right.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. The hormonal shifts within Tachyon’s borrowed body were causing a fire storm of emotions. Fury wrestled with despair, but even the traumas of pregnancy could not pierce the ice dam that held her tears. Something in Tach’s arid stare rattled Fortunato. Uncomfortably he asked, “Aren’t you going to bawl now? Every time I saw you, you were sniveling. Now at least you’re the right gender to get away with it.” Tach just stared at him. After a lengthy silence the ace asked, “Why the hell did you come here? You’re a reminder of all the shit I left behind.”

“How nice for you. Some of us cannot run away.” Illyana kicked, and Tach’s hand went instinctively to her belly. Closing her eyes, she twined her thoughts about the baby’s. The emotions were like colored ribbons. She was softly smiling when she again opened her eyes. “It is a rare place where the only sensation is love.”

“I can think of one other,” said Fortunato, very dry.

“No, sex is far more complicated. It is warfare, and obligations, and games, and tests.” Tach straightened resolutely and met Fortunato’s frowning gaze. “I have come to you for help.”

“I don’t give abortions.”

It was deliberately cruel. Tach was unmoved. “My body has been stolen from me. And I believe the thief has taken it to my home world. I must go after them. And for that I need you.”

The receding hairline gave the ace a lot of forehead to furrow and knot as a frown of Jovian proportions crossed his brow. “I don’t get it. As far as I know, you’re the only person who owns a spaceship instead of a dog.”

“How do you think they got off the world?”

Something flickered deep in Fortunato’s eyes. It was gone before Tach could identify the emotion that drove it. “You really are fucked.”

Tach dropped her gaze. “Will you help me?”

“I still don’t see what I can do.”

“It has been forty-four years since Jetboy failed over Manhattan. I have seen you all, treated most of you. You are the most powerful ace ever to live. I think your powers are sufficient to cross even light-years. Send a message to my family on Takis.” It was more impassioned than she wanted, but desperation was beginning to chew at the edges of her fragile control.

“I don’t have any powers. I had to give them up when I entered here.”

“Your powers are intact. It’s written in your DNA. You can play self-deluding games, but you are a wild card. You will die a wild card.”

“You know how my power worked.” Fortunato threw out his long arms, indicating the peaceful garden. “You see any way for me to awaken the Kundalini?”

The words had to crawl from a mouth gone desert dry. “Yes… use me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are desperate.”

“You will never know how much,” said Tach, so quietly that the ace had to lean in to hear her. His body odor was fresh, citrusy. Tach fought back vomit.

She had prayed it would not (but feared that it would) come to this. Like most aces Fortunato relied upon a psychological crutch to use his wildcard powers. Peregrine believed she could not fly without her wings. In fact they were useless – she flew using an elaborate telekinetic power. Turtle’s teke power would not work unless he was safely armored in his shell. And Fortunato could not use his awesome telepathy unless he had sex immediately before utilizing his powers. It had been an elaborate joke in Jokertown. “May I charge you up?” had become a euphemism for fucking.

Tachyon wondered if the fear was evident on her face. She toyed briefly with the notion of telling the ace that she had been raped. No, he would only think she was whining. There would be no sympathy from that quarter – only disdain.

“Stand up.” Startled, Tachyon obeyed. “Now, turn around.” A long thin forefinger twirled in the air.

Tach pivoted slowly. His gaze seemed to have weight and substance. Heat licking across her face, down the length of her bare arms. The pale golden hairs on her forearms stood up.

“Now the hair,”

“What?” Her hand flew to the French braid that contained the heavy blond mane.

“Take it down.”

The bow resisted her shaking fingers. She thought he would help her, but Fortunato sat, arms folded across his chest, his long legs stretched out before him, showing through the slit in his kimono. At last it came down, and she shook it loose from the braid. It formed a cloak across shoulders and breast.

“Now the blouse.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She felt like a limp and helpless victim. Visions of Blaise flashed about the corners of her consciousness. The first flickers of a conflagration that would destroy her with terror.

“I want to see what I’d be getting. I used to audition all my girls. You’re very graceful. Hand movements are nice – a little clumsy -”

“Fear has a way of doing that,” shot back Tach, anger driving back the fear.

“You’re afraid,” Fortunato repeated as if the concept were a new one, the emotion unknown to him.

“Yes,” was the curt reply.

“Why?”

“No, I won’t give you that.”

“You’re about to offer me all of you. Why balk at a little confidence?”

“I am using you,” Tach cried. Rage threw caution to the wolves.

“Thank you. That’s what I was looking for… a little honesty, a little admission that this is all about you… precious you, wonderful you… you… you.”

“I humbled myself and came to you for help. And if asking is not strong enough, then by the Ideal, I’ll beg!”

“So start… I’m waiting.”

“Damn you! How much groveling is required before you can grant me a simple favor?”

“I’ve given up my powers.”

“I’ll give them back to you! You’ve fucked me often enough psychologically and metaphorically. You may as well complete the goddamn cycle!”

Echoes of her shrill diatribe shattered against the mountain’s side. The crickets fell silent. Fortunato’s eyes narrowed to calculating slits. He studied her. Then slowly shook his head. “No… I don’t think I want to do that.”

“You bastard.” Her voice was shaking as hard as her hands. A button twisted off as she tried to close her blouse. “Nothing matters to you but yourself. This is not just about me… about a lifetime trapped. Blaise is going to Takis. My people are going to suffer… perhaps die because you can’t be bothered to help.”

“Aliens,” said Fortunato, edging the word with ice.