A New World

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You don't actually think I have any sort of financial connection to the Titans, do you? I hope not. That would be a serious mistake.

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Chapter Eight: Acclimation

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Wednesday, 9:45am . . . . .

Raven's eyes popped open in shock, followed almost instantly by a flood of irritation. If the red strobe light hadn't snapped her meditation right down the middle, the blaring siren would have. She floated over toward the main monitor and was pulling up the details of the emergency when Robin ran in, Starfire closely following.

"What's the situation?" he demanded.

Giving him two and a half seconds of baleful glare, the empath stepped away from the console and waved him toward it with a liquid flourish of wrist and fingers. "Be my guest."

He didn't waste any time wondering about what had set her off. They had all learned quickly to cut her a lot of slack in the social-interaction department. Instead he studied the information flowing by on the screen.

Cyborg came trotting in. "What's goin' on? Who is it?"

"The 'Who', as in 'Who did it' is what we need to find out. The 'What' is …" his eyes flicked toward Starfire for a fraction of a second. "… a rape … and a kidnapping."

The alien frowned in concentration for a moment … then her eyes took on a dangerous glow. "Who has been the victim of the kidnapping and rape?"

"The rape victim is Patricia Marshall, age twenty-seven. Local resident." His brows drew together. "She's in … damn … in Carlton Memorial ICU. On life support."

Taking a step back, Cyborg said, "Shit."

"Severe concussion and four … stab wounds."

Star's eyes ramped up the green fire. "But she is not the victim of the kidnap?"

"Um, no. The kidnap victim is her …" He paused while Beast Boy came hopping in, still getting into his uniform.

He resumed, "Right. The victim is her daughter, Summer Marshall, age three years and ten months, height ninety-two centimeters, weight thirteen-point-five kilos…"

"Whoa. Tiny little thing," said Cyborg.

"… Yeah. And light blond hair and green eyes. According to witnesses, she had on something yellow. A dress or jumpsuit. Reports conflict."

"Dude!" objected Beast Boy, "why we bein' called in on a kidnapping? Isn't that, like, the FBI's job?"

"Normally, yes. But this just happened. He can't have gotten out of the city yet. Captain Butler has a whole division out looking for the perp, but he figured we might be of significant help." Glancing between Beast Boy and the girls, he added, "His guys can't fly."

"… Okay," said the green teen, "what's the move?"

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About an hour earlier . . . . .

A shrill, "I don' wanna go!" was accompanied by the stomp of a tiny foot and the rapid shake of a small blond head.

The little girl's mother huffed a defeated sigh. "Summer, dear, we talked about this …"

"No!"

Some of the pedestrians bustling by glanced at the pair.

"Your father is waiting downtown, Honey. We have to go."

"No! Not gonna! I hate 'im!"

Her patience flagging, the mother countered, "How we feel about him doesn't matter. The court says he gets you two days a week. I can't just …"

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The screeching scream was enough to draw lots of attention … and some disapproving stares.

Holding back tears of frustration through iron will, the young mother picked up her wailing daughter and began walking south with a purposeful stride while small fists and feet beat a regular tattoo against her body. As they passed an alley, someone back in the shadows winced and glanced up at them.

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Buddy Karlton didn't think of himself, when he thought about it at all, as a bad person. Unlucky, yes … phenomenally so. But not necessarily bad. If circumstances had turned out differently, stealing wouldn't be such a needful thing. But when the choices were 'stealing' and 'starving' it was hard to think about it as a choice, per se. So when the crazed badger gnawing at his insides could no longer be placated with empty promises, he would skulk (Hour after hour went by; a shadow slipped / From vasts of shadow to the camp-fire flame / Gripping a rifle with a deadly aim / A gaunt and hairy man with wolfish eyes . . . ) to some restaurant in one of the seedier parts of town and wait on a delivery truck. Precisely what the truck was delivering didn't matter. Food was food (Food, glorious food! We're anxious to try it!) and it didn't make any difference whether it was buns or cole slaw or frozen barbecue (Scrambled eggs and whiskey in the false dawn light.) or meat patties or whatever. As soon as the delivery guy disappeared inside with a hand-truck full of cases, Buddy would slip into the van and nick a few of what was there. He had a system. No one had caught him in several weeks.

Today, though, he'd been dozing again. He did that most of the time recently. While asleep, the voices were quiet and he could walk through pleasant dreams. 'Sleep that knits the raveled sleeve of care' as he had read somewhere, sometime back in the past, hidden in the cold hinterlands of his damaged psyche. This latest dream was a good one, full of cool shade and cooler water (May she become a flourishing hidden tree, That all her thoughts may like the linnet be) rippling along brooks and across green meadows, and someone was with him, graceful and near, someone he had known (I know I am but summer to your heart), someone he had loved and who had loved him …

That was when the screech called him back to reality.

He flinched at the noise, and sat up, peering with rheumy eyes toward the tall, bright rectangle that marked the alley entrance. There he was staring when the young mother marched past.

"Linda?"

The word was barely whispered, and as soon lost in the not-so-subtle, lived-in-city sounds. He climbed to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall, the rough brick a temporary brace before he lurched forward. Was it Linda? After so long, how could he have found her? (The art of losing isn't hard to master / So many things seem filled with the intent / To be lost that their loss is no disaster.) And while the glimpse he got of her was fleeting, there was no mistaking that high, noble brow, that slight up-turn to her nose (You are ice and fire, The touch of you burns my hands like snow.) that slender neck and svelte frame …

Pushing what was left of his wispy, white hair out of his face, he stumbled out into the light and followed the quickly-retreating figure.

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Later . . . . .

The distaff members of the Teen Titans flew silently side by side for a few minutes, both intent, but on distinctly different topics.

"Starfire?"

The alien looked to her right and met the half-demon's gaze. "Yes?"

Raven noted how much of her armor Starfire had donned and gave a tiny shiver. Her appearance was quite formidable. "Would you do me a favor?"

"That, friend Raven, would depend upon the nature and focus of the favor."

"I'd like for you not to kill this guy as soon as we find him."

The Tamaranean just stared at her companion.

"We're living in this country now," she hurried to explain. "They've got their own laws. I know you think the system's odd … maybe even broken. But these are the laws they made to govern themselves, and even if they are contradictory and occasionally stupid, they are still the laws of the land. And the laws state that someone accused of a crime is innocent until proven guilty in one of their courts."

"But we know that he is guilty! The one who has Summer Marshall is guilty of raping her mother … and of trying to kill her."

Raven could feel the cascade of righteous indignation, the tempest of holy fury that streamed from the alien as a gamma-ray burst from a quasar. Truthfully, she could scarcely keep it damped enough to concentrate. "I know that. But they have their procedures. I'm just saying that we need to follow their procedures if we want for them to ask for our help in the future."

Starfire seemed uncertain. Raven pressed, "You do want that, don't you? To be asked to help? To be viewed as an asset rather than a liability? And you know what a by-the-book kind of guy Robin is."

"Assuredly, he is that."

"Then you'll be careful?"

A few heartbeats thumped by before she responded, "I will be thorough." A smile twitched her lips briefly. "But accidents, as I have heard said, do happen. One never knows about these things."

Raven was not reassured, and promised herself that she would keep an eye on the temperamental alien.

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Police Sergeant Paul McKee reflected again that it was just as well that he had a strong stomach. He trained his flashlight down into the large trash bin and scanned it slowly back and forth over the corpse. "Who'd you say found him?"

The patrol officer, one Carol Rodriguez, consulted her notepad. "Guy named Finney. Mike Finney. He was trying to dump that mattress there …" and she used her pen to indicate the object of interest, "… and he tried to get both lids up at the same time, and that's when he saw him."

"Hmm." Sgt. McKee stared at the deceased for a few moments. "Officer?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Would you call Forensics?"

"… Yes, sir?"

Noting the hesitation in her reply, he elaborated, "I'm pretty sure whoever killed this guy is a professional. My older brother is a Ranger, and the placement of those strikes looks real familiar. If we've got a hit-man in town – and I'm not saying for sure we do – they need to know about it." Thinking it over another few seconds, he nodded to himself. "So does the Captain." He pulled out his cell phone.

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Robin gave the Captain a look. "You think these two cases are related?"

"I don't know. I'm just trying to cover all the bases. But this is less than a block from where that rape took place. I can't discount it out of hand."

Shrugging, the leader of the Titans turned to Beast Boy. "See what you can pick up."

The green teen rubbed his hands together and then cracked his knuckles. "Okay, I'll need some room."

The others backed up.

Morphing quickly into a grizzly bear, Beast Boy snuffed around in the bin, held his head up and snuffed again, then walked down the alley, nose to the ground, finally meandering toward the street. They followed him out into the midmorning traffic.

One might think that a big, green bear ambling down the sidewalk of a modern city would elicit more than a slight alarm. That, however, would be reckoning without the hardy citizens of Jump City. Given that the Titans were a regular feature of the local broadcast stations, everyone who saw him knew the bear was really Beast Boy.

He followed his nose into the alley so recently covered in crime tape and lumbered over to where the rape had taken place. Changing back to human, he nodded excitedly. "Yep! It's the same scent, all right! The guy in the dumpster was in this same alley, and it hasn't been long, either."

Robin thought that over. "So … looks like this guy was a witness."

The Captain agreed. "Wrong place, wrong time. Poor guy."

"And you haven't ID'd him yet?"

"Not yet. He was picked clean. No wallet, no cards, no ring, nothin'. They're running his prints now."

"Okay. I'll pass this on to the rest of the team." He caught the Captain's eye. "Question, though."

"Yeah?"

"What did Patricia Marshall's wounds look like?"

Captain Butler rocked back on his heels. "Hmm. Good question. Very good question."

Beast Boy glanced between them. "What? I don't follow."

"Well," explained Robin, "this guy here was killed with five strikes – two in the neck, two in the lungs and one in the heart – and a finishing move across the throat. That's a fairly classic Special Forces attack pattern."

"Yeah? So?"

"It's a philosophy of 'Make darn sure the guy is dead' that they don't vary from."

"… Okay. Again, so?"

"So Ms. Marshall is alive."

The other teen blinked in concentration for a few seconds … then his eyes got wide. "Oh! So … so … so maybe … what, we talking about two different guys?"

"Maybe."

"Hey …" Beast Boy held up a finger. "How about I see if I can match another pair of scents."

"Good idea."

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Buddy staggered along under his burden, his bad knee and slipped disc and cracked wrist all screaming at him. But he had to keep going. He couldn't let them catch up to him. He had to get to … get to …

. . . . . . . The long knife flashed in the early sunlight slanting through the jungle along the edge of the clearing, winking at him as it plunged into the woman, multiplying his impotent fury over not being able to protect her. His fuckin' M16 had jammed again. Dropping it to the earth, he sprinted the last few yards, hitting Charlie's elbow with a snap-kick that pitched the knife into the air. He caught it in his undamaged right hand, and made short work of the commie assassin.

A tiny whimper caught his ear. There, huddled in a terrified knot against the rough poles that held up their hut, were two small girls.

Damn.

His squad was supposed to be at the extraction point in twenty minutes, and Charlie was bound to overrun this perimeter in less than ten! These kids would be toast.

His Corporal trotted up and knelt by the woman, checked her pulse and muttered, "Shit fuck."

"Yeah."

"That's Ng's wife."

"Yeah. And those are his daughters."

"Fuck all."

"Yeah."

"Whaddaya want to do, Sarge?"

"Grab the woman," he directed while dragging the Viet Cong soldier to the hut's door. "We'll put 'em in the hut so Charlie can't see 'em from the air at least."

After getting that done, he bent and picked up one of the girls, who immediately began thrashing and screaming. "You take the other one."

"Then, what?"

"Then we run like hell."

"Yes, sir!"

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Raven and Starfire had parked for a bit on the roof of one of the taller buildings in the area, and were discussing what Robin and Beast Boy had discovered.

"But this does not make the sense! Does he believe that the one who did the rape is not the one who did the kidnap? How is that the reasonable conclusion?"

"I'm not arguing, Starfire. I'd say we were missing a vital piece of information."

"Yes," she concurred, nodding. "Information which we can … extract from the kidnapper when we find him."

They took to the air again.

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Captain Butler was reaching for his wallet to pay for the cup of coffee he'd just ordered when his cell rang. "Yeah?"

"Got an ID on the dumpster guy."

That got his attention. "Yeah? Who is he?"

"Grigoriy Yarasnikof."

"… Okay. Never heard of him."

"Enforcer for the Russian mob. Part of Gizya's bunch. Lives in L.A."

"Huh." That bit of information made his skin prickle. The very last thing his city needed was a new organized crime outlet. "What's he doing in Jump?"

"No idea. But there's a footnote in his file I thought you'd find interesting."

"… You keeping me in suspense 'cause you think my blood pressure's too low?"

"He's got four convictions for rape on his record, and five more cases pending."

"… What the hell was he doing walking free?!"

"Jailbreak."

"Oh. Okay, so probably NOT an innocent bystander."

"No. Probably the rapist."

"That would explain a lot. Did the hospital get a rape kit on Ms. Marshall?"

"Yep. I already had it sent to our lab. They're running the DNA test now."

"Good." He mulled that over a moment. "I gotta call the Titans back. I'll come by your office later."

"Works for me."

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At Starfire's request, Raven had extended her empathic field to see if she could locate Summer Marshall that way. It gave the half-demon a scorching headache, but it did shortly yield results.

"I don't know if it's her, but there's a confused, frightened little girl down there." She pointed at a shabby building in a row of dingy tract houses.

Without waiting for further instructions, Starfire streaked down to the street, landing in front of the door and then knocking it clean off its hinges before hurling herself inside.

When Raven got to the entrance, she could hear the wailing of a small child and a cracked, wobbly voice muttering something unintelligible. Zipping through the next room, she pulled up short and stared.

Starfire was holding an old man by the front of his coat and had her fist drawn back. Raven latched onto her arm and shouted, "Wait!"

The alien had no trouble shaking the much smaller girl off, and her eyes narrowed in disgust. "Wait? Why must I wait? This filth needs to die!"

"But, Star! I don't think he did anything!"

"… Did not … What? Why would you …"

"I can feel it." She floated around to where Starfire had dropped the man and smoothed the lank hair away from his face. "He's so … confused."

His mumbling was nearly incoherent. "… Lieutenant … they're after us … take the girls … next chopper …"

Raven placed her hands on his temples and concentrated. His eyes filmed over, then seemed to clear. Then he fell instantly into an exhausted sleep.

Summer Marshall's thin wail came to them again. Raven said, "Starfire, would you please go check on the girl?"

The alien, still unsatisfied, stomped into the next room, but then stopped and took a good look at what was there. Summer was in a small bed, and covered with a dingy blanket and what must have been the old man's ragged overcoat. There was a plate beside the bed with several cookies, and a glass of milk. The jug sat on the floor. Propped up beside the pillow was a new-looking teddy bear and a large candy cane.

Summer cried again, and Starfire walked over to her. There was a big, ugly bump on her forehead, and the girl kept rubbing at it, then sobbing when it hurt. The alien picked her up gently and carried her back to Raven.

For her part, the empath sat on the floor beside the old man, staring at him in wonder. She looked up when Starfire walked in. "Star, I think this fellow saved her life."

"… What?"

"I'm only getting bits and pieces, but they add up to him … stepping in while her mother was being attacked."

"But … but this is a thing which makes no sense!"

"Sensible or not, I think that's how it happened." She pulled out her communicator. "I'll call Robin."

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That evening . . . . .

Raven floated into the Common Room. "Anyone seen Starfire?"

Cyborg, his mouth full at the time, stuck a finger skyward.

"Thanks." She phased up through the ceiling.

Starfire was, indeed, on the roof, standing at the edge with her back to Raven. The sunset was quite nice this evening, and normally she would have been a couple hundred meters up, reveling in it. Instead, she was staring at something in her hands. Raven could feel the crashing waves of regret she was generating. She floated over and laid a hand on the alien's shoulder.

Starfire gave a tiny shudder. "I was intending to kill him."

"I know."

"Thank you for stopping me."

"You're welcome."

"I asked Robin about him."

"Oh?" This was news to Raven, who had spent the intervening time in much-needed meditation. "What did he say?"

"Mr. Karlton was a soldier. He was part of the army of this country when they were at war in a small country called Viet Nam."

"Oh. Okay, that explains one image I got."

"His … unit was working with one of the local people. It would seem that the people of the north part of the country had invaded the people of the south. They were fighting in the south part. There was a man who had helped Mr. Karlton, but the invaders of the north had tracked down his village. They killed his wife."

"… Oh."

"They would have killed the children of the man as well, but Mr. Karlton stopped them. He saved the children." She gave a small sniff and rubbed at her nose.

"So … we have history repeating itself?"

"It would seem to be so. Captain of the Police Butler and his men deduced what had happened. The evil man who attacked Ms. Marshall … had already raped her … and was trying to kill her. Mr. Karlton stopped him, and took the knife from him, and killed him, then placed his body in the garbage receptacle. Summer Marshall got hurt. They do not know if it was because the evil man hit her or because she fell and hit her head, but she had a small concussion. She was probably unconscious. Mr. Karlton took her to that house where we found them."

"So some of our suppositions were not exactly right."

"Raven!" She turned to face her friend. "I came very close to killing him! I was going to punch his face in!"

"But you didn't."

"Only because you stopped me."

"Still, the fact remains …"

"No, Raven. I was wrong. I came very near to committing murder upon an innocent man, and it was all because of my anger."

"Well, then I'd say you learned a valuable lesson."

She nodded. "Robin told me some other things. Mr. Karlton was a most valorous man. He received honors from his military. He was awarded a Bronze Star and two Purple Hearts and a Medal of Honor. Then after the war was over, he studied and received a … degree? Yes, I believe that is correct. He earned an advanced degree in Language. He then taught at … a university, I think Robin said."

"…What in the world is he doing squatting in a shack in the bad part of Jump?"

"He has … lost his mind? His … capacity for rational thought is compromised."

"Ah. Yes, I did pick up on some of that. That explains much."

"He could no longer work as a teacher, and Robin said he … 'dropped off the radar' several years ago. It would appear that the Earth system of government has failed him."

"I understand that happens a lot."

"But it should not." She sighed and turned her attention back to the object in her hands, which Raven could see was the helmet Starfire had been wearing earlier. "It is a most confusing situation. Because Mr. Karlton was not receiving the care he needed, he was on the hand to prevent two murders. And yet, he is much the miserable himself, and that is very sad. They have him at the same hospital where …"

The beeping of Raven's communicator interrupted them. She flipped it open to see Robin's intense features. "Yes?"

"Thought you two might want to know, Ms. Marshall is out of her coma, and her condition has been upgraded to 'Stable'. They're pretty sure she'll make a complete recovery."

"Oh!" exclaimed Starfire, brightening for the first time since Raven had found her, "that is the most excellent news!"

"Right. So, you two coming to supper?"

"We'll be there in a bit." She snapped it shut and looked back up to Starfire. "Think you can eat?"

"Oh, I would eat whether I felt the hunger or not. It is unwise to allow one's body to deteriorate simply because of regret."

"I agree."

"But," she said, tossing the helmet up a few times, "… I believe that the way this situation has turned out has caused me to have the epiphany."

"… Oh? In what way?"

"I will conduct myself strictly according to the 'laws of the land' that we were discussing today. I will not appoint myself to be the executioner in the future." She drew back her arm and launched the helmet on a long trajectory. When it got well out over the ocean, she zeroed it with a massive starbolt. The few molten droplets that were left made a faint sizzle when they hit the water.

Raven almost smiled. "That was very definitive."

"Yes. Let us go to the supper now."

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A/N: We're going to give this story a provisional status of "Complete" now. That may or may not change as events unfold.

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