October 29, 2022
The sheep-bear took a sip of their Baja Blast, and looked out the window at the headlights flickering by on Eglinton. It was just after five on Saturday afternoon, but dark and overcast, and Maddy caught a glimpse of their reflection after the cars passed: a Pepper’s Ghost of a worried-looking ursine bulk buried in a puffy black ski jacket, white toque pulled down past their modest horns.
The Taco Bell was empty. A handful of drive-through customers had driven through, but no one else had entered in the forty-five minutes she’d been sitting in a corner booth. The employees, as far as she could tell, were hiding in the back of the kitchen prep area, quietly bantering amongst themselves. That was all the better while she waited for her meeting with the Korps recruiter.
They’d been spending the wait agitated, scrolling through social media. Maddy had never bothered unlocking their profiles since the previous week’s shitshow with their ill-chosen interview, but regardless, couldn’t stop namesearching themself. People were sharing a brief Vice article on them, alleging that a “well-placed source” with Ontario’s Heroes had shared stories of Heartforce’s erratic, negligent behaviour in the past two weeks. The sheep-bear scowled. Martha from the Comms department had clearly done what Hagen had asked of her, to give cover for the undercover Korps-recruitment mission, but it really didn’t have to lean so far into ‘Look at the crazy tranny’ territory.
On top of that, Maddy was growing increasingly anxious about dealing with the scheming fuckboy/technically-a-Hero Slider. She’d been stringing him along with increasingly elaborate stories of striking out in her attempts at infiltration, but could tell he was impatient and growing angry. The rat already thought she was a useless, hopeless ‘diversity hire,’ though, so at least he was unlikely to realize she’d already gone much, much further in her interactions with the Korps than she’d seen fit to officially report.
They just needed to do this on their own, the shaken Hero reassured themself. They didn’t want Slider or Hagen to know what was going on quite yet… if ever. Their friend (they hoped?) Grace, a lawyer for one of the Korps’ front companies, had made the arrangements; just as the deer had promised, an anonymous note had turned up slipped under their apartment door, with nothing but a time, date, and the words TACO BELL and TOMKEN.
Despite Maddy’s apprehension about meeting with a straight-up villain—probably a wanted fugitive, maybe even a killer!—who was surely a high-profile target of the PHL (if not also the federal Aurora Squadron), the older woman had assured Maddy this was preferable to anything she herself could tell the young Hero. Grace may have been with the Korps, but it wasn’t as if she personally got her hands dirty working in their legal department. The recruiter was both a fellow super and transfem, and could speak to the experiences of a potential defector in her circumstances much better than the office-bound doe, she’d claimed.
A defector, they thought with a wince. That was what they were, or would be. That was what they were seriously, genuinely considering: turning their back on Ontario’s Heroes, and on being a good, safe, PR-friendly little diversity mascot for their super-team, in order to side with the clandestine motley crew of anarchic, gleefully queer criminals that made up the Korps. It repulsed Maddy on some level, but intrigued and provoked her longing even more on another. Quitting being a Hero was one thing—they’d already made up their mind they couldn’t be Hagen’s pet publicity stunt for very much longer—but there’d be no going back from a decision like this. And yet…
After all, it had been Grace who’d taken pity on the sheep-bear, and shared the Korps’ records of their superhero father’s embarrassingly memory-holed death, leading them to the epiphany that his legacy was nothing to uphold or take pride in. Ontario’s Heroes had concealed the truth from them, the Prairie League had concealed the truth from them, the whole damn PHL had concealed the truth from them. They resented it. They resented the hell out of it.
She felt obligated to… do something in return. At least hear out the recruitment pitch, consider it in good faith; she owed Grace that much, didn’t she?
Their reverie was broken by the realization that a figure had approached the table (even though they could have sworn they hadn’t heard the restaurant’s doors being opened) and was calling their name. The voice was rich and dark and sinuous, and they bit their lip as they spun towards the new arrival.
“Maddy Oakes?” It was a grey tabby cat in a leather jacket, curvaceous and vaguely threatening in her manner. She radiated confidence and demimondiale disdain for the strictures of polite society, Maddy noted, feeling unaccountably impressed. She was also extremely fucking hot. “Carmen Rayne.”
“Um. Hello. You must—I mean, of course, yes, who else would you be.” Maddy looked away, flushing, and paused for a beat as the woman squeezed into the seat opposite them, a minor feat given the feline’s bodacious curves. “Can I, uh, ask why we’re meeting at Taco Bell?”
“Call it a tradition,” the cat sneered playfully. “So. I’m here, you’re here. You’re curious—you’ve seen that the Korps aren’t the soulless monsters the capes make us out to be—but you’re not sold on the villain life. Is that our starting position here?”
The sheep-bear winced, still avoiding eye contact with Carmen. “Pretty much…?”
“Let’s be clear about something up front,” the tabby said. “The Korps is my family. If someone were to take advantage of my goodwill, to hurt my family, they would never get another opportunity. Do I make myself understood?” Carmen bared her fangs through a sweetly menacing grin.
Maddy growled under her breath, hackles beginning to raise, and looked at the cat. “I have a family too. A very, very normal mom and sister. They’ve got no powers, they’re not political, they’re not rich or famous or powerful, they’re just… ordinary. They might understand if I quit being a Hero, but I don’t know I could make them understand this. What happens to them?”
“That depends on just how cool they are,” Carmen said blithely, gazing with indifference at the back of her extended claws. “And how much they would want to be in your life, if you changed teams. As for their safety… we’re capable of sending some very harshly worded messages to the PHL about leaving them alone, if necessary.”
Maddy pondered the cat’s words for a moment. “I’ve got powers, and OH invested a lot into training me,” the sheep-bear murmured tentatively. “What kind of protection would I have, even if OH left my family alone?”
Carmen raised an eyebrow. “If you’re with us, you’re with us, Maddy. There are hundreds of Korps members who’ve been in the same place you are now, disgusted with the hypocrisy of being a government-backed Hero. You know what we call them? Comrades. Friends. Family. We all have each other’s backs; that’s what mutual aid means.” Her expression softened the tiniest bit, but she continued. “If you want to help people, there’s all kinds of ways you can pitch in. If you just need a clean break from the PHL, to heal and reflect on what the hell you actually want from life, that’s an option too.”
The sheep-bear took a deep breath. Was the tabby sure she understood the stakes here? “Director Hagen—”
“Asshole,” Carmen coughed out theatrically into a clenched fist. “Psychopath,” she coughed again. The cat tilted her head and locked eyes with Maddy, smiling brightly. “Oh, I’m sorry, forgive me; please go on?”
Maddy shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench. “—Wants me to be a double agent spying on you. He was setting me up without my knowing it, and then gave the order this week.”
Carmen looked thoughtful, and sipped on her own drink. (Wait, thought Maddy; did she have a drink, a minute ago?) “So I heard,” the tabby said pensively. “I also understand from your K-LAW contact that you’ve been keeping him out of the loop about when you’ve already met with her, and honestly, I didn’t expect you’d want to keep that up for long anyway. Playing both sides of the field is high stakes, especially if they both think you’re really on their side. And you know, with respect? You don’t strike me as a very good liar. But, yeah, we could do that, if you want. As long as we can trust you to double-agent for us, not the PHL. Can we trust you, Maddy?”
The sheep-bear wrung the pads of her blunt hoof-nailed hands. The recruiter wasn’t wrong; she couldn’t help but think Hagen was growing suspicious by this point, and she was afraid she’d crumble and let something slip, if pressured. Carmen’s tone rankled her, though, and she pursed her dark lips. They were the criminals! They were supposed to be selling her on giving up everything she’d worked for—much as she’d hated it all, in the end—for a life outside the law. “I… don’t really want to do that, no. Anyway, how do I know I can trust you, though? How do I know this isn’t some trap to brainwash me?” Maddy’s heart rate began to climb. “People… people disappear, and then they turn up with the Korps, and they’re completely different. Their personalities, their bodies, I’ve seen the videos—”
“And where did you learn that?”
The sheep-bear’s mouth hung open briefly, as her train of thought was derailed. “Um. From OH, I guess. The broader PHL. And the news?”
Carmen sighed, bitterly smirking. “Let’s talk about the PHL, hon. They hid the truth from you and made you believe lies. They moulded you into a tool to be used at their convenience, leveraging your power—not just your powers, but all of you, the incredible strength and resilience it takes to just be different like we are, in this world—to turn you into something lesser. They built a cage around you, a persona that wasn’t really yours, but just an extension of your father’s,” the cat scoffed, “And they had the full cooperation of every major media outlet in Canada to do it. If he’d lived, you’d have been his sidekick, right? Tell me I’m wrong. And after you’ve been through all that, you still think that we’re the propagandists and brainwashers?”
“But—”
“Madison. I’ve read your dossier. You started transitioning at 14, which, fuck yeah. How did your family, your friends, react? Was there anyone who didn’t accept it? Is there anyone who still doesn’t accept it?”
“Well…” The sheep-bear winced again and looked away, clenching their jaw as they thought back.
⌯⌯⌯
May 10, 2013
The adolescent sheep-bear hid under the blankets and tried to cover their ears. It didn’t help; they could still hear Mom and Granddad shouting at each other down the hall in the living room of the suburban Calgary home.
“Deborah, I can’t believe you’re letting the boy do this to himself. He’s just confused, don’t you see? His head’s all messed up, from that boondoggle with the Cadets trip last winter. Do you think the PHL is going to want him to be the new Heartwood if he makes himself some kind of freak?”
“I’ve been talking to Alexis,” Mom said in a shaking voice. “The Prairie League doesn’t like it, sure. But Ontario’s Heroes—”
The elderly bear growled. “You’d move out east? Just so he can keep playing dress-up like this?”
Mom took a deep breath. “The—the director knew Roger. Mr. Hagen. Do you remember, he was Canadian Shield? Alexis put me in touch and I spoke to him, and he’s open to it. He said the government told them they had to be more ‘diverse,’ so it wouldn’t be a barrier to a licensed Hero career there. It might even be a benefit, you know, like affirmative action? I mean, the new premier is a lesbian, they’re very modern about these things in Toronto—”
“Toronto? Bloody hell, Deb, you’re not talking any sense. You’d take the boy away from his family so he can go join the junior transvestite brigade in Toronto?
“I’m Madison’s family, Garth. Me and Brianna. And he—she, I mean, she—has to do this. I didn’t get it at first, but this is who she is. Brianna knows it too, she’s been so happy to have a big sister. I saw how Maddy couldn’t concentrate at school, I’d hear her crying at night, and she’s got no real friends, just those squadmates in the Cadets…”
Maddy began sobbing a little, at that. It was true, but the way Mom said it broke her heart. It hadn’t always been like this. She used to have actual friends, when she was younger, before she had to transfer to a new school and her powers started flaring up. She’d stopped seeing them at hockey practice, or the after-school club at the community centre; there was no time, not when she had to train.
They had to make their father proud. They had to. They had to be strong, and try to hang on; this was all there was for them. It was, in fact, what had convinced Mom, and the stern bison doctor at the Children’s Hospital gender clinic, that they were mature enough to start transitioning.
Next to that, what were friends…?
“Maybe the boy would have friends if he wasn’t a God-damned weirdo,” Granddad muttered. “I heard about this. He’s been brainwashed by the TV and the MySpace, he thinks it’ll make him ‘cool’ to start calling himself a girl. Who could actually want this? I remember all the times he was splashing around in the mud, going fishing with me, getting into fights… it must be that something’s gotten to him. You’ve got to take away the internet, keep a closer eye on who he talks to! It’s like his personality is completely different. ”
“Please, stop calling her ‘the boy.’ She’s afraid to say anything to you, but I know it hurts her. Until her—her powers, you’d only been seeing the kids in the summer and for Christmas! I see them all the time! Madison is the same sweet, shy, thoughtful person she’s always been. You just don’t want to believe this is really her.”
“It isn’t. I’m sure of it.”
Mom sniffed, and made a low, angry bleating noise. Maddy could tell from the tone that she was holding back tears against her father-in-law’s hectoring. They wished—they wished she didn’t have to. Sometimes they wished so hard that they could have been normal, no powers, no…
“We’re moving to Ontario, Garth. She’s proved she’s responsible enough, and I want to let Maddy be herself. That’s final. I’m not sure if she’ll even want to follow in Roger’s footsteps in the end, but if she does, Ontario’s Heroes will look out for her.”
“If Grande Prairie—”
“Garth.”
“—If it was good enough for Roger, then the boy—”
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, GARTH.”
Granddad growled with irritation, but Maddy soon heard the front door open, and then slam closed. Mom’s hoofed footfalls went past their bedroom door, alongside the sound of tepid sniffling. The master bedroom door closed. Several minutes later, it opened again, and then, the young sheep-bear’s own door slowly creaked open.
Deborah Gillespie’s tone was soft, and pained, and beaten-down. “...Honey?”
Maddy faced away from the door, pulling the blanket down from over her head. “Yeah, Mom?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to hear all of that. I’m sorry for… well, I’m sorry your Granddad can’t see you for who you are, right now. I’m sure he’ll come around. He just needs some time to get used to it,” the sheep said plaintively.
“It’s okay,” Maddy mumbled.
It was not okay.
“Let’s—let’s all sit down tomorrow, after I bring Brianna home from her swim class, and we can start planning what to pack, okay?
“I love you, Mom,” the sheep-bear murmured, before pulling the covers back up.
⌯⌯⌯
October 29, 2022
“...I think I understand what you mean,” Maddy gulped. “But you’re saying that every single time that’s happened, it’s been voluntary? No… no mind control hypno-goggles, no torture, no threats?”
The brash feline raised an eyebrow. “I know you know that they’re called Rose-Coloured Glasses. And yeah, sometimes people need some help, to realize what it is that they really want, and it’s not always just a leg up on transitioning. We can offer that help.”
Maddy screwed up her snout, quizzically. “What does ‘help’ mean, then?”
Carmen shrugged; her expression seemed more genuine now, a gently supportive smile. “It means help. It means giving people what they need, even if they don’t know they need it yet. And sometimes that does mean a little nudge towards conclusions that wouldn’t have occurred to them otherwise, and yes, sometimes a chat with ROSE inside your frontal lobe can be that nudge. We’d rather have accomplices than nemeses, after all.”
“You want minions to rule the world, is what I was told.” Even as soon as the words were out of their mouth, the sheep-bear realized they weren’t sure if they really believed that any more.
The cat took a deep breath, flicking a drop of condensation off the side of her waxed drink cup. It landed on the table between them. “Let’s try thinking about this from a different angle,” she said warmly. “What is it you want, Maddy? What is it that you’ve been denied all your life? What’s been just eating away at you with its absence?”
The sheep-bear snorted. “What, are you trying to bribe me?”
“Everyone has a price,” Carmen asserted.
“Not me.”
“Don’t you?” The cat began counting down on her elegant, clawed fingers. “You don’t want anything to do with the Heartwood legacy, especially since you learned your father was an abusive rage monster when he wasn’t waving for the cameras—much like a lot of your present co-workers, just saying—or being a capital-H Hero at all, really. You don’t want to be a weapon, or a tool, getting manipulated by people who see you as a pawn. You especially don’t want to be the token queer, leading your team’s float in the Pride parade. Except, hah, I heard capes got banned from the parade here; fuckin’ A? Anyway, most importantly, you want your mother and sister to be safe. Them not being disappointed in you for giving up on a Hero career would be nice, too. How am I doing so far?”
“...You’re still not wrong,” the sheep-bear winced. “But so what?”
“So? That’s your price,” Carmen smirked, tenting her fingers over the hard plastic tabletop. “The Korps can give you all of that, and more. Just let us show you.”
Maddy was more twisted up than ever. She didn’t know, couldn’t know—how was she supposed to feel, right now? How could she be sure that the cat wasn’t tricking her, wasn’t setting her up to be exploited and manipulated in a whole new way, wasn’t playing on her feelings of guilt and inadequacy and longing for validation, just like everyone else in her life—and she sniffed, snout trembling, eyes beginning to water. After a moment she steeled her jaw again, took a deep breath, and met Carmen’s gaze with as much bravery as she could muster. “Show me what?”
The cat turned her head, nodding eastward out the window of the Taco Bell. “What ‘Home’ could look like for you. What a life after OH could look like for you. That is, if you wanted it.” She paused. “You know Yorkdale, yeah?”
“Of course,” Maddy said, uncertain. It was a huge old mid-century shopping mall in North York, at Allen Road and the 401, near the defunct Downsview Airport. The Korps couldn’t possibly have a secret base inside, could they?
“I’ve got something else to take care of first, but I think I need to give you a tour, girl. Meet me there, by the Sunglass Hut, in an hour?” Carmen smirked, smugly. “I’ll show you all kinds of things. And lucky you—tonight’s the Halloween party.”