Hot American Justice By Matt Barron Dear Peter, Please find below a story that I’m working on. I ran into a remarkable – at least, remarkably strange – young man on the street the other day. He told me a very strange story. I would like to get your advice before going to publication, since you seem to be the expert in this sort of thing. What follows is my transcription of our conversation, and a few side notes. Thanks in advance for your assistance. ------- "I used to be just a lowly lab tech." The young man is finally starting to talk. He has lead me to a rooftop, quite insistently. Curiosity led me this far. His attire begged, no, pleaded many questions. I was eagerly awaiting his story. So I sit quietly. light a cigarette. Give him space for talking. I reached into my pocket and activated my voice recorder. "I worked in that building down there. The sleek glass one, with that swoopy sculpture out front. I never was sure what it was supposed to be, but I guess that giant ambiguous artwork is some sort of badge of honor among giant world dominating conglomerates." I looked at him, and down at the building. It was a little dingy "Well, it was more of an aspirational goal. "They have brilliant scientists. Oh, on the technology front, PB was second to none. Excuse me, I'm a bit thirsty, I'm gonna drink some water... But they could have maybe used better safety controls." The kid was wearing some sort of American Flag robe, and carried a water bottle, from which he constantly seemed to be drinking. I worried briefly about having to deal with a possible hyponatremic coma in the near future. He continued on. "You see, that's why I'm up here. But that story is kinda boring. Virus-this and gene-splice that . . . Long story short, they're the guys that spliced day-glo genes from a jelly-fish into some "Scene" kid's liver and made the worlds first bio-laser. Fantastic, cool stuff if you're into military stuff like lasers. "Me, I was just interested in paying rent and finishing my degree. You don't even get to play with cool stuff like gene splicing till you've finished your third doctorate in molecular biology, so I wasn't really holding my breath while I worked there. "Right, so I'm sure you could guess the rest. Test tubes, beakers, sleep deprived college kid, accidents, breaking glass, you've seen this movie before. One thing leads to another and the next thing you know, you've contracted a powerful gene-splicing virus that has no idea it hasn't gone through human trials yet. Cute things, really, viruses. Like Kittens, except for you spend a week laid up with a fever, vomiting your guts out, and suddenly you wake up dead. At least, that's what the paperwork says, I'm sure. Most people probably don't get superpowers from modified influenza G1H7B. . . I guess that makes me special. "You know, I bet it's pretty hard for most people who find themselves with super powers (or super-cluessness) have a hard time figuring out how to go about protecting their crime ridden metropoli from evil ne’er-do-wells. Personally, I didn't. It was kind of a no brainer, really. "You see, Influenza g1H7B modifies human kidneys, giving the active mitochondria of those cells the ability to produce proteins that glow. Excuse me a second, sorry, I need another sip of water. "Yeah, well, these proteins don't just luminesce. In the presence of light, they cascade photons, just like a laser. Normally you don't illuminate your kidneys, so this stuff was really just a laboratory curiosity. But you see, during that week of vomiting I mentioned, I learned something interesting. There is a time that these proteins get exposed to light. "Damn I wish this city had more crooks. Finally! There, see that guy? Just grabbed that woman's purse. Here, take the binoculars. See him? Watch this." At this point, He pulls open his robe, takes aim, and lets loose a powerful stream of glowing green justice. I caught a brief glimpse of a snuggie logo on the inside as I try to look away. Almost instantly, the would-be mugger's shoes vaporize. It'll be another full two seconds before the actual stream of urine hits the perp, both of which are still steaming at the time, adding insult to injury. "Yeah, see. You know how long it took me to figure out how to use this? Pretty quick - I been doing it for a while you know. Forget about fighting bad guys, pissing on them is much more gratifying" He finishes his story, and shakes a few last drops of bioluminescent urine on the rooftop below us. It sizzles and melts through. You see, the reason I’m writing you is that I'm not really sure what to do with this story. Usually I would rush to my editors office with some grainy photographs and demand a front page slot, but I can't bring myself to print this, so I'm writing to you, Peter. You've always been helpful on this front. I'm sure the citizens of this city would feel relieved to know someone is watching out for them on the rooftops, but I don't think anyone would really approve of his, er, vigilante style of justice.