Star Harbor Nights

The General was out of uniform. He'd changed to non-descript workman's clothes, the garb of an honest laborer, to oversee the off-loading of the trucks of equipment that had rolled into the yard late in the evening. The heroes who'd come together against their alliance had been canvassing the warehouses of Crescent Bay, but fortunately, they'd been ready to move their operation at a moment's notice to their secondary headquarters, a decommissioned naval shipyard south of the city.

"You've been quiet," Allison said to Echo. They sat in a bare visitor lounge inside the maximum security perimeter of the Dunwich Asylum. Minerva had gone off to talk to Rhyme's handlers... her doctors, officially, though nobody was actually qualified to give her any form of treatment. Ford had tagged along. He was interested in an internship in his civilian identity, and didn't mind using his Thunderclap guise to get a peek at the inner workings of the place.

Argos, the Pantheon's main Chariot, was more than just a vehicle. It was a fully autonomous flying headquarters. In addition to the comfortably appointed seating area, it had a medical bay, a machine shop, a small lab, a modest library, a galley, and bunks for sleeping. As there was nowhere in the world it couldn't reach inside an hour at top speed, these amenities did not find frequent use, but the gleaming silver and gold antigravity jet was intended to double as a base of operations in case of disasters.

Allison's dedication to the obligations of her civilian life required her to return to work at SGI the next day, house full of heroes and a night of freaky dreams notwithstanding. The Thunder Brothers and Minerva Wisdom used the day to search the warehouses by the piers for anything suspicious, or anything that would shake loose something from Minerva's hazy recollections of her captivity.

"Do you... do you have any idea of the consequences of what you've done?" the Darkness demanded of Chaos. It was the Darkness who spoke, though in fact, his words echoed the thoughts of all the assembled male principles.

"Oh my God!" D.J. cried.