<< A few hours earlier
Jenkins greeted Mitch with a smile and immediately invited him to get out of the rain. He then brought Mitch to a bedroom where Jenkins told Mitch that there were spare clothes in the closet. Jenkins apologized if the clothes did not fit. Shortly thereafter, Mitch was in a rather comfortable robe, in the study, warming himself with Irish coffee when Jenkins came in once again. “Doctor Jonathan Jones, ” he announced with the door opened.
Doctor Jones casually limped into the room and greeted Mitch in a similarly hospitable fashion as his servant did. Then, he asked, “What brings you here?”
Mitch replied, “Someone is running amok claiming to be Captain Pasty’s clone. Only he’s very well tanned and seems to be able to manipulate darkness as Pasty can reflect light. He calls himself Commander Bronzed. I think he said that he’s working for the Politician. Also, Pasty has recruited some more heroes. There’s a boy who can fly, and some sort of martial artist.”
“A clone?” Dr. Jones asked rhetorically. “I know that the Russians had experimented with cloning, but I’m not sure that anything ever came of it. Who could have access to that kind of technology?”
“I don’t know,” Mitch answered, unaware that this, too, was a rhetorical question, “But Pasty’s personal life seems a bit sketchy, right now.”
“How so?”
“This evening, I saw…,“ he stammered, “er…Cait, Pasty’s girlfriend eating dinner with a metrosexual. A metrosexual guy, who appears to be into Cait.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that I saw Cait-“
“No, before that,” Doctor Jones sensed something in Mitch that he hadn’t sensed before. “You said someone else’s name.”
“I didn’t say anyone else’s name.”
“But you were going to.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
Without a pause, Dr. Jones said, “I want you to cook something for me, a dessert.”
This shocked Mitch. Anyone would have noticed this rather quick change of subject, but for Mitch, the subject was sore. “I can’t cook. I’ve told you that.”
“What if I don’t eat it?”
“Then what’s the purpose of cooking?”
“I want to see this curse of yours first hand. I want to test it out, because we may be able to put it to good use.”
“I don’t like this idea.”
“I know you don’t, and that’s a good reason for you to cook. If we can use your food to subvert the Politician, then we have a valuable tactic.”
“You mean, ‘You have a valuable tactic.’”
“Mitch,” Jones said, “You can choose whether or not to cook. What I am suggesting is something that can benefit you. You can choose what to do with it. I merely want it to be an option.”
Mitch was silent.
“Everywhere in Delmor there are people with extraordinary abilities. They have chosen to use their powers instead of concealing them. Some use them for good; others use them for bad. What will happen if your friends can benefit from your gift, which you call ‘a curse,’ and you do not help them? I know it seems like your gift is mundane, but you are in the unique position to maximize its capabilities. You are able infiltrate, strike, and leave- all without suspicion.”
…To Be Continued 
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