Giant robot, yes. I hovered for a second to take in the scene, which even now strikes me as more ludicrous than anything else. The robot was one even I could recognize, one of those two-legged walking ones from one of the Star Wars movies—the one with the teddy bears, or whatever they were supposed to be. Twenty feet tall and fully functional, it looked pretty well beaten up and was moving quickly down the street as if it had decided to quit the scene, dancing around with surprising grace to avoid cars and the rubble its own armor-plated "feet" had dug up from the street surface. Promethean was hanging onto it and apparently trying to push it over, but it kept rotating its top half so that he was unable to get sufficient leverage. He had hacked off the main gun with a plasma beam, and the two side guns swiveled futilely in an attempt to target him; they were not, at least, firing randomly into the neighborhood.
    A little way down the street, what looked like a heavily modified red Delorean had just become airborne, wing-doors open and jets flaming as it headed up and away. Figuring that Promethean had the robot under control, I calculated an intercept angle and took off after the car, intending to yank the driver right out if I could catch the thing. I made it into range and reached out, lost the contact almost instantly thanks to the sheer weirdness of what I had just touched, and then they were blazing away. With an intense effort, I redoubled my speed and caught up again, grabbed hold of the back of the flying car (though I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it for long), and made a second try for the driver; this time I kept the contact.
    Weird shit. Like Traveler, like Phoenix when Xyrgoth had him, there was the distinct sense that I wasn't touching just one being, but instead of being two, this one was thousands, maybe millions. The man wore a black costume with a blue design on it, and a long cape cut to look like wings of some sort. He was in his fifties or sixties, I guessed, and not in great shape; his companion seemed to be worse off, coughing and gasping for breath. I heard a snatch of conversation—"I'm going to have to do it" "You know how I—" "I know you hate it, but I haven't any choice!"—and then my hold on him just dissolved. About a million butterflies poured out of the car, while the car itself shuddered and shrank, and then it fell.
    I caught myself and batted butterflies out of my eyes; the flock slowly dispersed in all directions. Below me I saw Scott on his hovercycle; he had grabbed the Delorean, which was now the size of a toy. We headed back to rejoin the others in front of Beerbaum Antiques. Some way down the street a Star Wars toy, rather badly abused, was an object of curiosity for those police who had arrived on the scene late and were being told the story by those who had witnessed the battle.
    Promethean was looking around the shop, and I joined him there. Typical antique store, although a few cuts above many such places; some things had been disarranged, but there weren't any obvious holes where something had been stolen. It wasn't long before Mr. Beerbaum appeared, understandably upset but helpful, going through the room with care. Apparently the only thing missing was a set of account books from a recent auction, recording buyers, sellers, items and amounts. Promethean, thinking quickly, asked if anything at the auction had been butterfly-related. Why yes, as it turned out, there had a been a trio of Kreznick glass butterflies, very beautiful and valuable—they were part of a set of five and had gone for over a million dollars, and he couldn't remember the name of the gentlemn who had bought them, but it would be in the missing books. He wrote down some names for us of other people who had been there and might recall who had bought the things.
    I left the store and confronted the sight of Lucky and Winters standing nearby; Lucky was wearing the gloves, stroking them against her skin in a way which made me extremely uncomfortable, not least because it isn't the first time I've seen her with that beatific expression while she has those few moments of contact with them. Winters caught my eye for a second and raised an eyebrow. I walked away from the scene and contemplated the toy which had caused so much damage—now that was one heck of a power. Things were going to get interesting around here, it seemed. Eventually Winters convinced Lucky to hand her precious weapon back over, and we all headed for base.
    Dr. Scott was there, using the computers to work on some project he's got to trace a bunch of missing Plovian protomatter he was planning to use to augment Scott one of these days; apparently on of the TECH people, a man named Langstrom, has it. Jeffrey was in the throes of a fit of frustration over his wheelchair-bound state, unable to reach certain areas of the equipment. There was something of an embarrassed, sympathetic quiet; he apologized for his brief outburst and headed upstairs to get some rest.
    Scott checked our new and improved database for histories on the perpetrators of this morning's odd crime. James Bugby, the Lepidopterist, was big in the 30s. His abilities are based on pheremone generation, with which he can summon and control moths and butterflies, and which he eventually learned to apply against human beings. His crimes have always been nonviolent, and he often committed "theme" robberies of butterfly-related items. He was put away in '47 and after his release moved to a retirement community. He didn't "feel" nearly that old when I was reading him, so apparently the pheremones have helped him retain a measure of youthful vigor. His list of known associates includes the Muse, an actor who had once had a bevy of scantily clad henchwomen, one of whom he later married; the Sphinx, a robber who often left riddling clues; and Molly Irish, who never committed any crimes that she could be nailed for but did marry four rich, elderly husbands in a row, all now deceased. They're all living locally these days, Molly in a rather nice place on the Cape, but none of them have powers resembling what we saw today.

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