Synaptic Overload

by Brandy Dewinter and Tigger

( © 1999, All rights reserved )

 

Chapter 10 - Who Is That Masked Babe?

 

The next time Entropy awakened it was in response to a urge that had become more pressing than her need for continued sleep. She roused from her nap, noticed through the window that it was now late afternoon, and then saw Adams dozing in her chair.

"Excuse me," Entropy said.

Adams woke with a start and looked around guiltily. Seeing only the woman she had been charged to watch, she relaxed and said, "Yes?"

"I need to, um, use the facilities," Entropy said.

She was led to a washroom immediately off the office. For a second it looked like Adams intended to accompany her into the room, but a sharp glance from Entropy caused her to pause at the door.

Inside, Entropy took advantage of the "emergency" options available within her costume design to take care of necessary business without fully undressing. She also started her fuel cell recharging with energy drawn from water in the basin.

Then she looked in the mirror and saw that she could use some lipstick, but that by and large the makeup that Maui had applied was still in surprisingly good condition. Or perhaps even degraded it was still effective. In any event, it was satisfactory.

Her hair, on the other hand, was a mess. The long flight, coupled with several hours scrunched up in a corner of the couch, had left it kinked and tangled.

*It's a good thing Angie will be able to get this wig off of me,*

Entropy thought. *It would be a nightmare to make some order out of that

mess with it still tugging on my scalp.*

Then she laughed out loud and said, "Well, DUH!"

She worked her will on her hair and the tangled disorder resolved itself into the artfully casual waves that Maui had created. Tangles became sweeping curves, kinks became great bouncy curls. In moments, it looked as good as she had been shown it could be, tumbling with graceful energy to her slim waist.

When she was satisfied, she walked back into the main office to find Grove, a very amazed Agent Adams, and the man who had directed traffic when she had arrived.

"What did you do to your hair?" she blurted out, even before the men could speak.

"Oh, this," Entropy said with coy humor. "It was nothing, really."

The men didn't really know what had amazed Adams, but Grove felt compelled to say something, "Very nice. Now, if we could get a few things straight?"

Entropy nodded politely, standing at ease as she waited for them to take the next step.

"Would you like some coffee, perhaps something to eat?" Adams interrupted again.

Perhaps the magic of an instant hairstyle improvement did more to convince her of Entropy's power than second hand reports. It certainly seemed to change her attitude. In any event, her interruption was once again accepted by the men, and Grove pointed to where some refreshments had been set up. They all took advantage of them, filling a plate before returning to sit around the couch.

Grove began his interrogation with information of his own. "We found the island. It was empty. Do you have any idea where we might find the other members of Synapse's gang?"

"No," Entropy answered. "Sorry. I don't think you have a lot to fear from them, though. With the exception of General Oahu, they were basically just doing what Synapse told them to do. Without her as a guiding force, they won't cause much trouble."

"What about this, "General Oahu"? Can he lead them?"

"I suppose he has the capacity, but they didn't seem disposed to follow him. I'm afraid you have one moderately competent criminal to worry about, and two that are more likely to need help than cause further trouble."

The SAIC was busily making notes on this information. When he caught up, he said, "We'll be asking you for more detailed information, but I have a more pressing question. You mentioned when you arrived that Synapse had some 'power amplifiers.' What became of them?"

"Oh!" Entropy said, jumping up. "I forgot all about them."

She reached in the pouch in cape and took out the belt and scepter. As she handed them to the SAIC, she said, "I'd be really careful with those. I don't know if they prove Synapse's claim to be descended from Hawaiian nobility or not, but I do know they really enhance her power."

"Oh, by the way," Entropy concluded. "Synapse thinks those are lost on the island. She doesn't know I brought them with us."

The SAIC nodded, and then he asked the question that ended the conversation, "Now, Miss, um, Entropy, we need to know who you really are and why you've done this."

"No you don't," she said abruptly, still standing, now more tense.

"Wait a minute," the SAIC said. "We don't mean any harm. I'm sure the White House will want to give you a medal or something. We just need to know a bit more about you."

"No, you don't," Entropy repeated adamantly.

The SAIC was about to press harder, but Deputy Director Grove touched his arm and he subsided. The senior man said, "I wish you would reconsider. I think we could help each other out. Your reputation is that you use your abilities to help people, not take advantage of them, so you have nothing to fear from us."

"Only the loss of my privacy," Entropy said.

Grove nodded, obviously not surprised. "Very well, we won't insist."

"Good," she replied, then said. "I think it's about time for me to be on my way. Is it possible for me to make a phone call? Privately?"

"Of course," Grove assured her, but the flicker of glance that passed between him and the SAIC told her that at least the privacy part was not likely to be met. But that was part of her plan.

Still, they left the office. Entropy used the phone to make a quick call to Jonathon Thorson's apartment in Armbruster.

"Hello," she heard Angie's voice on the line.

"Hello, this is Entropy. May I speak to Jonathon, please?"

"Um, sure, just a second," Angie said, catching on. In just a bit longer than the promised second, Entropy heard the voice of James.

"Yes, Entropy? This is Jonathon."

"Jonny, I just wanted to call and let you know that everything turned out fine. I should be back at my place in a few hours."

"Oh, okay. That's good. Is there anything you need?"

"Not right now, thanks. Just checking in."

"Right. Well, take care."

"Thanks, you too. Bye," Entropy said, concluding the call. She smiled a sly little smile that Synapse would have recognized all too readily, then moved to the door of the office.

Adams met her. The others had at least pretended to give her the privacy she had requested, but Entropy would have bet that they were in some monitoring room, trying to get more information on this person who seemed to know Entropy. The costumed woman asked a question of the female agent with her eyes, receiving confirmation in the embarrassed grimace she received.

"I'm sorry, Miss Entropy, but you should have known they would listen in."

"I did," Entropy said with a conspiratorial snicker. "After they get to thinking about it for a while, they'll realize that I knew and that I was giving them a way to contact me, but with a cutout that I could pull if they get too obnoxious. I don't mind helping but it will have to be on my terms."

"Oh, yeah," Adams said, smiling at the humor in Entropy's eyes.

"I should have thought of that."

"So should they," Entropy said. "I guess I just got irritated by them pushing me on things they had no real right to know."

Adams looked at her slender fingers for a second, picking at an improperly applied fleck of polish, then said, "I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier. I think maybe I was jealous."

"Of me?" Entropy said in surprise. "Goodness, girl, in the spectrum of our society, an FBI agent ranks pretty high in her own right."

"Oh, I'm proud of that," Adams said. "But you're, well, you're so pretty, and it would take two of those costumes to hold me."

"Don't kid yourself," Entropy laughed. "I've got some industrial strength helpers under this showy exterior. And why do you think I wear the mask?"

Adams laughed in turn, but she shook her head in disbelief. "So, why do you do this if you don't want any money or awards or anything? Is it because you're so damned good looking and you want show off?"

"No. If I could, um, meet my objectives without looking like something out of an adolescent boy's fantasy, I would."

"Oh, come on now, lady, don't give me that. NO woman would choose to look plain if she could look like you. Hell, I'd give a year's salary to have a shape like yours."

Entropy became quiet, remembering Angie's lecture on real girls and their dreams of being beautiful, and of how she'd hurt Janice with her so casual dismissal of that desire.

"You're right, I guess. And it helps me do what I do in ways that you'd never guess and that I could never quite explain. But I'll tell you one secret. . ."

"Oh, what's that?"

"I really am wearing a corset, and, um, other things. Trust me, what they do for me would do wonders for you, if you were serious. And it probably would only cost you, oh, a month's salary."

"Really?" Sharon said wistfully.

"Guaranteed," Entropy confirmed. "Believe me, you have a *lot* more to build on than I ever had." Entropy stuck her hand out in an almost-masculine gesture and said, "Friends, Miss Adams? I could use one in 'official' circles."

Adams took the offered hand in both of hers and shook it warmly.

"I'd be proud to be your friend, Miss Entropy, but please call me Sharon."

"Okay, Sharon, and I'm just Entropy," the blonde smiled.

Adams looked at the caped superhero in her skin-tight costume and shook her head again. But her denial was less forceful this time, undermined by a wishful longing to believe. Certainly Entropy's tone held undeniable conviction.

"You're pretty confident," Adams said, but her tone held wonder, not doubt.

"I guess so," Entropy replied, not registering the irony in her weak agreement.

Adams looked up to see that they had arrived at the door, and said, "Well, you're going to need it, if you're going to survive what's outside."

What was outside was a horde of reporters and cameramen, plus another horde of hangers on, all anxious for a glimpse of the masked superhero.

"I can take you to another way out," Adams offered.

"No, this will be fine. If they get too bad, I'll just fly away," Entropy said with a grimace.

She smoothed her features into a smile she had learned in her long sessions with Janice and Angie. It was demure, yet inviting, a delicate balance between propriety and sensuality that was enhanced by the mystery of her mask. When she was ready, she walked out to the waiting mob.

Entropy let the shouted questions wash over her for a couple of minutes, ignoring the din as she searched the crowd. She saw a face that looked at her more with need than greed, and pointed to her. As though that gesture pulled a switch on all the rest, they quit their own shouting and listened to the young woman indicated by the costumed blonde.

"Sarah Hansen, WGBU News," the woman began. "Who are you, and is it true that you captured the notorious Synapse?"

Entropy almost laughed at the angry murmur of some of the crowd as the reporter took advantage of her opportunity by asking two questions, not one. Instead of answering the question tersely, the caped crimefighter chose to use the silence to make a brief statement.

"My name is Entropy. I'm sure you've seen other reports of some of the things I've done. It is not my intention to seek power or some sort of celebrity status, but since you're all here I decided I'd take just a moment to answer a few questions. Yes," she continued, "I did capture Synapse. She is now in the custody of the FBI."

"Was there a fight?" someone shouted from the crowd, a man's voice.

"You mean, like with scratching and hair pulling? That sort of thing," Entropy laughed. "If that sort of thing interests you, you're a naughty boy."

After a pause for the laughter to subside, she continued, "No. There wasn't any fight, at least, not with her. She's a very powerful woman and I couldn't figure out how to capture her without hurting her, except by cheating. Frankly, I wasn't sporting at all. I captured her in her sleep."

"Who are you, really?" another man asked.

"Trying to get that million bucks from WNN?" she asked in return.

"You'll have to work for it a lot harder than that."

"Will you marry me?" a voice shouted from the middle of the crowd.

Entropy's response was a reflexively-sharp, "No!" Then she smiled to soften her answer, thinking up a truth that would give them something to think about, "I already have a, um, roommate. But thank you for asking."

Ignoring the next questions to be shouted at her, Entropy held up her hands and got at least a reduction in the din. "I don't intend to expose my whole life to you. I'm afraid you'll have to let my actions speak for themselves. And with that, I'll take my leave."

She levitated up into the air before the crowd, silent electronic cameras tracing her as she lifted, click-whirring still cameras advancing as rapidly as fingers and motors could provide. Accelerating smoothly, she swept around the corner of the building and out of sight.

 

Thorson was back at the University the next morning, working in the faculty lounge to try and catch up on the backlog caused by his two-day absence. Terhune was there, too, as usual. He seemed to think he could think better with the TV on. Perhaps he was right. The endless repetitions of reports related to Entropy's first "official" appearance had certainly made it seem hypnotically boring to Thorson.

Entropy's flight back to his apartment had been wonderfully quiet after all the stress of the days just past. When she slipped in the back door, both James and Angie were waiting.

"You look, well, great," Angie said in surprise, reaching up to run her hands through the still-perfect curves of Entropy's hair.

"Thank you," Entropy said with a grin.

"How did it go, really?" James asked.

"Not too bad," Entropy replied. "I got pretty tired on the trip back. I haven't had to concentrate that hard that long since I was working on my dissertation."

James looked quizzically at Entropy, obviously trying to decide whether to say something. She could see the decision form on his face even before he spoke, so she was ready for his question.

"Why didn't you tell everyone who you really are? Surely you have enough publicity now to get acceptance for your discovery."

Entropy walked with the graceful sensuality made necessary by her heels and picked up Dinger from his resting place on the couch. She ran her hands though his fur for a moment before saying, "Too much acceptance, I think."

She continued, "If I could do what I did, even as dead tired as I was, then so could a lot of people. Synapse, could have, for sure. If my discovery became public knowledge, it could be used for harm as well as good. I have to think about that."

"Two futures?" James asked.

"Hmm?" she replied, confused. They she realized she was stroking Schroedinger the cat. It was a coincidence her mind had created without conscious thought. She laughed without a lot of mirth and said, "I guess so."

"Maybe you should just turn me in, for the million dollars," she offered softly.

"Do you really think we want to do that?" asked James.

"No, but, well, I owe you two an awful lot. Maybe that would be the best way to end this."

Angie came to stand beside James, working her arm around his waist, "Why do you want to end this?"

Entropy stroked her cat in silence for a long moment, then said, "Because I don't want to."

Before Angie could ask the question that showed on her expressive face, James gave her a squeeze. He said, "I understand."

The shapely blonde looked at him and said, "Yes, I expect you do."

"I'm sorry," Entropy said, reaching out to touch his arm. "I knew better than to think that you're motivated by money, of course." Then she dropped Dinger back on the couch and said, "I've had a nap, but I'm still tired, and I really, really want out of this wig and corset. Do you suppose I could get you to help me?"

 

Thorson was pulled back from his thoughts of the night before when the FBI showed up in the person of Sharon Adams. "Mr. Thorson?" she said to Terhune. He pointed at the real Thorson and Sharon walked over. "Mr. Thorson, I'm Sharon Adams, FBI. I'd like to ask you a few questions about Entropy."

Thorson had been using the time since her entrance to take a better look at her. Yesterday, Entropy had been too tired to really pay attention. He found himself distracted by her lively eyes, and just for a moment his fingers itched to see what he could do with his newly-developed cosmetic skills and her face. She had strong features, a wide mouth, a nose that was perhaps a touch too long, but with a little bit of work. . . yesssss. . .*definite* possibilities. .

Thorson waited through the unnecessary introduction without speaking, then deliberately misinterpreted her question. "About entropy? Are you a student? Surely the FBI must have access to any number of thermodynamics experts for background on cosmic disorder."

"What," she stammered. "Thermodynamics?" Then she remembered enough physics from somewhere to understand the confusion. She pointed at the television, right then showing Entropy rising above the crowd at the FBI building. "No, I mean the superhero Entropy, like on the TV."

"Oh, I haven't been paying attention to the news. I have papers to grade," he said brusquely. But there was a twinkle in his eye that he couldn't entirely hide.

"Mr. Thorson," she chided him, "please. Don't pretend you don't know why I'm here."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Huh," she said, then blushed at his ability to make her lose her focus. That caused her to get angry.

"Mr. Thorson, you know very well that the superheroine Entropy called you last night from Washington. We need to ask you what you know about her."

Anything further she might have intended to say immediately was interrupted by Terhune, joining the conversation uninvited, "Jonny? Knows that superbabe? I don't believe it!"

"We have the phone record, Mr., um, . . .?"

"Rick Terhune, English Lit." he introduced himself. "But Jonny doesn't know any babes, let alone a flying superblonde."

Thorson sat quietly, waiting for Adams to deal with her would-be helper. She repeated her claim, "We have a phone record of Entropy calling Mr. Thorson at his apartment. I have been sent to find out more about her through him."

Terhune was about to deny the possibility once again, when Thorson offered the first bit of confirmation, "But that would have meant you listened in on a private conversation, Miss, um, Adams."

She had the grace to blush, a flicker of memory playing across her elegant features as she thought of what Entropy had said. "Well, as to that, um, all FBI employees understand that the phones may be monitored for security purposes."

"And of course you informed Entropy of this, right?" Thorson asked, the twinkle back in his eyes.

"Um, well, I'm not sure it came up ahead of time, but I know she knew about it," claimed Adams.

"I suspect you're right," Thorson said, letting her off the hook.

"Jonny, you mean to tell me that she's right? That you do know Entropy?" Terhune interrupted again.

"Maybe," Thorson said, but he looked only at Adams.

"I don't believe it," Terhune said.

This time, Adams had her emotional balance under control a bit better and she was able to take control of the situation, "Mr., uh, Terhune, unless you have some personal information about Entropy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to let me interview Mr. Thorson without your, um, assistance."

Terhune spluttered for just a second, but the firm look in the agent's eyes sent him back to where his own work was spread out. After he was safely out of the way, Adams looked back at Thorson.

"So, Mr. Thorson, what can you tell me about Entropy?"

"Not much, unless you want to go into the third law of thermodynamics," he answered.

"We have already discussed that confusion. Please stick to the point."

"That is the point," he said. "I'm not at liberty to tell you anything about Entropy that you don't already know."

"This is a matter of national security, Mr. Thorson."

"This is a matter of personal privacy, Miss Adams," he replied.

Before she could say anything, he continued, "Look, this is stupid.

Could you at least call me, Jonathon, or better yet, Jonny?"

"Oh, well, if you want," she said, smiling in reflex despite her self-image of the highly-professional agent. But, well, her self image was weak enough that she found herself responding to the friendly smile on the handsome man. Too bad he was sort of short. Of course, she just made the minimum height standards for an agent herself.

Adams returned from her introspective thoughts with a start, and tried to cover it with a, "and please, call me Sharon."

"Thank you, Sharon," Thorson replied, then sat politely.

She looked at him for a minute, expectantly. When he didn't say anything more, she asked again, "What do you know about Entropy?"

"I know she wants us to respect her privacy," Thorson said, then he switched to the attack. "Tell me, Sharon, what do you do when you go home from your job?"

She was flustered for a minute, thinking he was asking her out. When she paused, he continued, "The reason I asked was to find out if you have to fight your way through ranks of news media and the idly curious. Can you go to a movie if you want, or shopping? Can you answer the phone without it being someone asking for difficult and possibly dangerous assistance? Wait, as an agent that might indeed apply to you. Anyway, can you see what would happen if everyone knew what Entropy looked like behind her mask?"

"But I'm not just anyone, uh, Jonny. I'm with the FBI."

"Right, like that makes things any better," he snorted. "Government intrusion is the worst kind."

"Then why did Entropy make that stupid call?" Adams asked, losing her patience.

"So that if there is some specific information you need *her* to know, you have a way to get it to her," he answered quietly.

"So this is to be a one-way line of communication?" she asked.

"For now, at least," Thorson confirmed.

"Very well, Mr. Thorson, um, Jonny. We'll be in touch," she said, gathering up her things.

"I'm counting on it," Thorson said with a smile, provoking a blush on the agent's smooth cheeks.

When she had left, Terhune was right back at Thorson's table. "Tell me what that was all about?"

"Entropy," Thorson said.

"You don't know her, really, do you?" asked Terhune.

"Believe what you want," offered Thorson.

"Can you get me a date with her?" Terhune said with a leer.

*Right after hell freezes over,* Thorson thought, but he said, "Don't hold your breath."

 

 

 

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© 1999 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.