Chapter Text
Alex was getting better at it, this whole “director” thing. At least, she felt like she was. It was a little weird—she never had any trouble telling other agents what to do until that became her actual job, and then the self-doubt started suddenly creeping in. She could feel the weight of it, knowing that other people could pay—sometimes with their lives—for her mistakes, and there were moments early on when that fact paralyzed her.
But she was growing more comfortable with the authority, the accountability, and she didn’t feel so much like a “fake boss” when she stood before a group of DEO agents giving orders. It was still hard, of course, and there were days when she’d give anything to go back to J’onn being in charge, but every day, she was getting a little surer in her belief that she could handle this.
At the moment, the DEO was without its biggest gun: Kara was visiting Argo, and with Superman still there too, that meant no Kryptonian heroes around to swoop in if things got hairy. Admittedly, that made Alex a little nervous, especially since J’onn was strictly non-combat these days, and part of her wished Kara could’ve waited until Superman came back before making her own trip off-world. But Alex knew that wasn’t fair; Kara and Superman were family, and with the recent discovery that even a small number of their people had survived, they had every right to share in that together.
It was going to be fine, Alex reminded herself, and it was. They’d gotten along all right for the first day of Kara’s absence, and they’d manage the rest of the week too. Sure, they were currently short on superpowered aliens to put in the field, but DEO agents were well-trained and well-equipped. They’d be all right.
To be honest, it was fairly quiet right now. There’d been little in the way of hostile alien activity lately, and while anti-alien extremism was definitely on the radar, the so-called “Agent Liberty” seemed to be underground, at least at present. So, it was a lot of monitoring, and a lot of being on alert without a specific action to take.
It was mid-morning, and Alex was making the rounds at the DEO. She’d already checked the cells and was now heading to the main hub for updates on…well, anything.
As she approached Brainy’s station, Alex found the techno-organic frowning in though as he tapped at his forehead, at the concealed interface that projected a holographic image of a human form over his naturally-blue self. “What’ve you got for me?” she asked.
Brainy glanced at her, then turned his attention to the several computer screens in front of him. “I noticed Agent Henderson monitoring ‘dark web chatter,’” he explained, the air quotes evident in his voice. “Keeping tabs on several anti-alien groups and attempting to glean further information on Agent Liberty while looking out for any evidence of new planned attacks.” He grimaced a bit and cocked his head, like he had a crick in his neck. Clearing his throat, he went on, “I’ve created an algorithm to perform that function with an accuracy exceeding Agent Henderson’s by 48.3%.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Alex remarked. This was an issue with slower periods—whenever Brainy didn’t have enough of his own work to do, he had a tendency to write programs that could do other agents’ jobs for them in a fraction of the time. If Alex didn’t keep him busy, Col. Haley was going to start laying off staff.
Brainy was tapping his forehead again. “Something up?” Alex asked.
“Uncertain,” the Coluan AI replied in a low, distracted voice. He looked at Alex. “Have you noted any glitches in my image inducer?”
Alex looked over Brainy’s human hologram: long dark hair, light brown skin, a pronounced nose. Since she initially met Brainy in his normal Coluan form, it was tough at first to get used to the image inducer, but by now, this human appearance felt just as much like Brainy to her as the blue one did.
“Looks fine to me,” Alex told him. “Why? Are you having problems with it?”
“It’s odd,” Brainy observed. “I’ve not detected any visual malfunctions myself, but it feels… tight.”
Alex frowned; that was weird. “Tight?”
Brainy nodded. “At the neck,” he explained.
“But how can a holographic image feel…well, anything?” Alex asked.
“It really shouldn’t,” Brainy confirmed, “which is why it’s odd.”
He made a visible effort to shake it off, but Alex could tell it was still bothering him. He’d been a little preoccupied with his image inducer for the last month or so, ever since an incident where it briefly cut out while he was out in public and he had a hostile run-in with some intolerant humans. It had been a hack, not a glitch, and he hadn’t brought it up with Alex since it had happened, but she’d noticed the way he sometimes fiddled with the hidden interface or seemed concerned about whether it was working.
Now, as she brought up a new project for him—figuring out a way to make the tranq guns auto-load the correct amount of tranquilizer for whatever alien was at hand, something more reliable than an agent simply guessing how many doses would be needed—she saw the occasional distracted look in his eyes and the way his fingertips brushed over his forehead.
“Understood,” Brainy said, a little hastily.
“You can do it?” Alex asked.
“Of course,” Brainy replied. “The alien database ought to have all the relevant metabolic data, especially with the substantial additions I made to it upon joining the DEO. It’s merely a matter of marrying the devices to the database and getting them to communicate with one another.”
“Sounds good,” Alex told him. “Keep me posted on how it’s going.”
“Very well,” Brainy said. Recognizing the end of the conversation, he abruptly turned back to his computer screens and brought up schematics for the tranq guns on one of them—as far as he seemed to be concerned, Alex might as well not even be there.
Not that he was all business, however. As Alex walked away, she noticed that Brainy was still messing with his image inducer.
Even a relatively quiet day could be a busy one at the DEO. Alex didn’t like to sit around, and so she took advantage of the calm by spending more time overseeing training for some newer agents and observed testing on some new equipment soon to be deployed in the field.
A few hours later, Alex found herself in the main hub again, reviewing prisoner transfer protocols with Agent Lennix in preparation for moving a few prisoners off-site. “Make sure you use the rubber gloves and boots with the Ekkenians,” she reminded the young agent. “The last agent that tried to handle them without the proper gear still hasn’t stopped twitching.”
Alex heard a breathy “hihhhh-chioooo!” from a few stations down.
“Bless you, Brainy,” she called absentmindedly. Then, to Lennix, “Don’t be that guy.”
Lennix nodded. “Loud and clear, director,” she said.
Satisfied, Alex was about to move on when she heard Brainy muttering, “That was anomalous.”
“What is it?” she asked, walking to his station, her eyes fixed to his screens. “The Children of Liberty? Are they planning—?”
“What?” Brainy said, sounding distracted. He glanced at the screen running his anti-alien-chatter algorithm. “No, that’s all within expectations. Rhetoric and posturing, but no threat of more than 16.2% credibility.”
“So what’s up?” Alex asked.
“Just…” Brainy frowned, “that was a sneeze.”
Alex had a sinking feeling. When an alien sneezed and was surprised about it? It probably wasn’t just a random sneeze. “And that’s not something you do?” she asked, already suspecting she already knew the answer.
“Historically, no,” Brainy replied.
This might be starting to make sense. “Your image inducer,” Alex said, “you said it felt tight at the neck?”
“Oh—we’re doing a change of subject,” Brainy remarked. “Yes.” He raised a hand to his left temple. “Here as well—I’ve been as yet unable to determine a cause.”
Maybe he couldn’t, but Alex was putting it together. “What’s the physical sensation of it? What does it actually feel like?”
Brainy gave Alex a look like she was a moderately-slow child he was humoring, but he answered, “A slight constriction around my throat, with mild discomfort when swallowing. And at my temple, a slight but persistent pinched sensation.”
Yep—a headache, and the beginnings of a sore throat. “Anything else?” Alex pressed. “Muscle aches, fatigue, a nauseated feeling in your stomach?”
“You’re talking about an illness,” Brainy noted. It was a pure statement of fact, devoid of any feeling; he might as well have been saying, the square root of 49 is 7.
“Is that possible?” Alex asked. “Can you get sick?”
“Of course,” Brainy replied. “While my intelligence is artificial, my body is organic and thus subject to harmful microbes. I occasionally contracted illnesses back on Colu.”
“But not since you’ve been on Earth?” Alex clarified. This might throw a wrench in her theory. “You’ve been here for quite a while.”
“True, but my time on Earth in the 31st century should be discounted from your data set,” Brainy pointed out. His eyes suddenly widened slightly, and he frowned. “…For reasons that are no concern of yours.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “No sickness in the 31st century?” she asked.
“Butterfly effects, Director Danvers,” Brainy replied. “It’s best not to speculate.”
Brainy wasn’t nearly as cagey as he liked to think he was. “Whatever—so being in the 21st century is your first real exposure to human sicknesses?” Alex clarified.
“Something to that effect,” Brainy confirmed.
Alex nodded, thinking. “Do you think they might be compatible with your biology?”
“It’s plausible enough,” Brainy reasoned. “79.4% probability.”
If he was coming down with something, he didn’t seem to care all that much. “Are you feeling anything else out of the ordinary?” Alex repeated.
Brainy’s frown was thoughtful, not concerned. “I feel slightly tired,” he noted, “and I experienced a brief but potent irritation in my nose before sneezing, but it dissipated quickly afterward.”
Alex considered this. “From what you’ve told me, it sounds like you might be getting a cold,” she explained, “but it’s probably a bit early to tell. Keep an eye on it, okay?”
“I will,” Brainy replied disinterestedly.
When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything more, Alex said, “And you’re all right for now?”
“Of course,” Brainy said. He didn’t add you stupid human, but his tone at least slightly suggested it.
“Okay then,” Alex replied. If she were coming down with a disease from another planet, she might care about it just a little, but Brainy certainly didn’t seem to. “I’ll leave you to it.”