Galilee Rising(7)

Tempest is the leader, a fact the other two don't seem to mind. He's the physically strongest, probably as strong as Justice was, lifting cars as if they were toys. He must be able to heal faster than normal, Nightingale too, because from what I saw in the footage, they'd be dead twelve times over by now otherwise. Not sure about Liberty though. It looks as if that force field of hers goes up the moment there's danger, so nobody can touch her. Lucky bitch. All three can fly too. Must have helped with the bonding.

The similarities end there. Tempest can control the weather, strongly preferring mini-tornados and lightning bolts from the sky to dispatch hoodlums. Liberty's weapon of choice is energy blasts, presumably made from the same matter as her force field. She has a hell of an arm. Nightingale is a little more subtle. He's the best fighter of them, obviously trained in several forms of martial arts. I found myself admiring his flexibility, among other well defined attributes. He's strong too, though nowhere near as Herculean as Tempest, but can bring someone down with one punch. He's also allegedly the brains of the operation. Some people believe he's a telepath, that he can read minds, but when asked, he said, "No." All the strategy, most of the investigating, even new weapons come from him. Maybe he's responsible for my laser gun.

It took them all of two months, and the defeat of Dr. Demented's giant robot, to gain national notoriety. The sheer longevity of their partnership garners press as most superhero leagues last only a few battles before they drive each other nuts and go their separate ways. The Triumvirate soldiers on together, making them the most popular squad in the world. They even have their own pillowcases and action figures. They are good at their jobs. They've saved two presidents, four visiting queens, defeated Emperor Cain three thrice, cleaned up the worst Independence neighborhood, and still have time to visit children's cancer wards and raise money for various charities.

The group dynamic is intriguing too. Tempest does most of the talking when dealing with the press and hostile heiresses. If asked a direct question, the other two will answer, though Nightingale keeps it to monosyllable and appears ready to bolt the first chance he gets. Liberty doesn't have that problem as I learned last night. I think they appointed Tempest as the face of the group because if given the chance, Liberty would run her mouth and get them in trouble. It wouldn't surprise me to find out Tempest was a politician. He's masterful with the press, cracking jokes and flirting with the female reporters. Justice was the same, walking that fine line of serious yet likable. The other two don't seem to mind the spotlight on him. They hang in the back occasionally smiling before flying off side-by-side behind him. Several reporters speculated that Liberty and Nightingale are a couple, though the only proof are pictures of her quickly kissing or hugging him after a battle. There are none of her embracing Tempest, so who knows? I didn't get any of those vibes last night. If anything--

"Joanna?"

I snap out of my thoughts and see the board, all ten members, staring at me with their hands up. "What? Oh," I say, raising my hand for the vote.

"Good," Danforth says. I really hope we didn't just vote to close the free clinic or something. "Then onto the next item on the agenda. The opening of the Rebecca Thornton wing. Joanna?"

"Right," I say, pulling out my notes. "Um, construction was completed last week and the building inspector will be by next Wednesday to sign off. Beds, equipment, medical supplies, etc. is already being set up as I speak. The first of the families pre-selected have been notified and can move in on schedule barring unforeseen complications."

"The press have been calling about it," the Chief of Staff says, none too happy.

"Direct them to Gene Tully in the Pendergast press office," I say. "We still want to keep this thing as low-key as possible, right? Just a few members of the local media?"

"Yes," Danforth says. "I think this hospital has had more than its fair share of the limelight this year."

All eyes glance my way, but I remain impassive. "Good," I say. "Is that all for today? I need to go check on the movers."

"I believe that's it. Meeting adjourned."

Praise the Lord. I toss my notepad in my obscenely expensive Bherkin bag, my stylist and personal shopper Isolde insisted I needed--she was right, it fits everything--and hurry out before people attempt small talk. I loathe small talk. Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow Hospital was voted second best hospital in the country seven years in a row and is the third busiest. There are a thousand beds, thirty floors, and it's always bustling. She's Galilee's crowning glory next to the Falls across the river. The finest doctors use cutting-edge technology, new procedures, and new drugs inside these walls. The uber-gene was isolated here thirty-five years ago right on the ninth floor. Now its claim to fame is "The place Justice died." God, do I hate this place.