March, 1951
The U.S. Army jeep made rapid, bumpy, progress over the rough North Korean roads. The young driver grunted every time the vehicle hit a particularly nasty bump, but his uncannily beautiful female passenger, sitting erect in her Australian Army uniform, did not even seem to notice the uneven ride.
"So," said the driver, breaking a silence that had held for several miles, "are you one of those superwomen, then?"
Lt. Clara McAuley, codenamed 'Typhoon', blushed. She turned to her companion and smiled. "Er, yes, I am," she said, with a broad Australian accent.
"I didn't know Australia had any supers," said the driver.
Clara's blush became a deeper red. "I'm the first," she said.
Clara was a little overwhelmed by the responsibility of being her nation's first superwoman, but she was determined to do her country proud. When the British had offered to create one "super" each for their allies in Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, the Australian defense ministry had been flooded with applications from almost every young woman in the country. Clara had been unsure about applying at first. Growing up as the sister of Michael "Mac" McAuley, one of the most gifted and lauded young cricketers in the country, she was used to being out of the spotlight. In the end she had decided to go for the chance of becoming an Australian icon. Maybe she would become the McAuley that people talked about instead of her brother.
After the applications, there had been intelligence tests, aptitude tests, psychological profiles and dozens of interviews. In the end, much to her surprise, Clara had been selected as one of five potential subjects to make the trip to Project Isis in England. Each of the five young women had a thirty minute interview with Alan Turing, the genius behind Project Isis, who had selected Clara to be the recipient of superpowers. She did not know why Turing had chosen her over the others, especially since she the people at Project Isis had given her the nickname "wallflower", but she was grateful that he had.
"Congratulations," said the driver. "How come you're riding with me instead of flying around?"
"Standing orders," replied Clara. "I'm not allowed to use my powers in a war zone until I have reported to my Commanding Officer."
Clara had flown herself from Darwin, Australia to Inchon, North Korea, but the rest of the trip would have to be by jeep. It was frustrating to be crawling over land in such a slow vehicle instead of soaring through the air alone, as she love to do. Up in the air, flying under her own power, she felt truly at peace.
"Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining," said the driver. "An hour driving a beautiful woman to the HQ of a whole brigade of beautiful women? Sign me up!"
Clara's blush became so fierce that she began to worry that her cheeks would stay red forever. She was not used to people saying that she was beautiful. Objectively speaking, she was beautiful, but that was a fairly recent development. Clara was around 5'8", with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. She had always thought of herself as plain, but the process that had given her superpowers had also made her stunning. She was recognizably the same person, but somehow her features now came together into a more attractive whole, and her perfectly sculpted body was the icing on the cake. She had expected that being super would require some adjustments, but she had never thought that she would have to get used to being the kind of woman that caused heads to turn and hearts to flutter.
"Thank you," said Clara. "You're sweet."
The driver slapped one hand over his heart and faked a swoon. "I think I've died and gone to heaven!" he said.
Clara wondered how the driver would react if she had shown up in her battle uniform instead of her fatigues. A standard military uniform was far too cumbersome and fragile for use by a superwoman in action. Underneath her jacket and trousers she wore a British superwoman outfit which had been modified for U.N. duty. The outfit was a close-fitting, one-piece leotard made of a tough, flexible fabric that could stand up to a couple of hours of super-powered combat. The standard British battle uniform was dark blue and white, with a British flag emblazoned over the left breast; Clara's normal uniform was the same except that it sported the Australian flag. The U.N. variant was light blue with a white U.N. crest in the place of the flag. She had been issued with an entire trunk of the garments. The battle uniform was thin and left very little to the imagination; Clara was too self-conscious to wear it unless she had to.
"How come I've never seen an ugly super?" asked the driver. "Are you really all beautiful, or do they just keep the homely ones in the back?"
Clara did not know how to answer that question. It was true that supers were all gorgeous women, but the true reason for that was a secret. The details of the process that Project Isis used to turn an ordinary woman into a superwoman were highly classified, but it was hard to keep secrets around people with super-hearing and super-vision. From overheard conversations, she had gleaned that the process involved tapping into an extra-dimensional energy that Turing called 'Flux'. When a young woman was linked to a point on the Flux, she was remade in ways that reflected her subconscious desires: Clara had gone in wanting to become a beautiful superwoman and that is what she had become.
"I'm sorry mate, I don't know," she replied. "I guess it just comes with the job."
"How strong are you?" asked the driver.
"Pretty damn strong," replied Clara.
"Can you show me?" he asked.
Clara sighed. She had learned very quickly that normal humans were fascinated by what she could do. They were always asking her to do tricks, like she was some kind of circus animal. It was harmless, entirely understandable, and incredibly irritating for somebody not used to being the center of attention. She closed her eyes and silently repeated one of the calming mantras that they had taught her at Project Isis. The first and most important lesson that a new superwoman learned was to control her emotions. Reacting with irritation or anger when un-powered humans were around could have devastating consequences.
"No worries," she said, her bright tone belying the irritation she felt. "Do you have a coin?"
The driver rummaged in his pocket for a coin. The ride became even more bumpy, since he was distracted, but it did not bother Clara in the slightest; her tight buttocks could shrug off the impact of heavy artillery. The driver handed over a disc of Korean currency. Clara took it and immediately punched a hole in the center of the metal coin with her little finger; it looked like it had been shot through with a bullet.
"Nice!" said the driver.
Half an hour later, they arrived at their destination: a cluster of tents and temporary huts that stood behind a large sign that read 'HQ UNSWEF'. Next to that was a less official-looking sign that read "'Belle's Battling Beauties".
"Here you are," said the driver. "The headquarters of the United Nations Super-Women Expeditionary Force. Good luck!"
"Thank you," said Clara. She leaped from the jeep and landed on the ground with a soft thud that shook the vehicle. She lifted her trunk from the back of the jeep with one hand and marched into the compound to report for duty.
The "police action" in Korea should have finished months ago. The communists in North Korea had misjudged the willingness of the United States and her allies to go to war in order to keep the whole peninsular from falling under communist rule. Their invasion of South Korea had proceeded quickly at first, but then the United States and Great Britain had deployed a handful of supers to reinforce the South Koreans. The invasion had slowed and then stalled as Yankee Maiden, Skylark and Hellion had repulsed every North Korean thrust.
The defense of South Korea was soon reorganized under the auspices of the United Nations, under the overall command of General Douglas MacArthur. Conventional troops began to flood into the country, along with more supers. The defense turned into a counter-invasion of North Korea which, spearheaded by a dozen supers, had soon pushed the North Koreans into a tiny pocket next to the Chinese border. A belligerent MacArthur made little secret of his desire to push on into communist China.
In the face of this threat, China had intervened in the war, sending a flood of troops over the border to clash with the United Nations. The Chinese were unable to break the U.N. lines, because they had no weapons capable of even scratching one of the U.N. superwomen. However, the U.N. forces could not advance without inflicting a slaughter of epic proportions on the Chinese, a slaughter that President Truman and the U.N. were not willing to countenance.
The war had settled into a stalemate along the border of the small corner of North Korea that remained under communist control.
Clara was met by a young American super. The American version of a superwoman combat uniform consisted of a pair of shorts that barely covered the top of the thigh and a brief halter top. The material was similar to the one that comprised Clara's battle uniform. The standard American battle uniforms were dark green, but this one was U.N. light blue, and emblazoned across the young woman's right breast was the crest of the United Nations. The woman was ebony-skinned, tall, lean and had closely-cropped curly black hair.
The young woman saluted. "Good afternoon, Lt. McAuley," she said. "I'm Lt. Janet Landry, codename 'Firefly'. I'll take you to see the General."
Clara had heard of Firefly, the first African-American super. The rumor was that she had gained her superpowers by accident; the U.S. superwoman project was a much less sophisticated affair than Project Isis, and mishaps were more common than the U.S. liked to admit. Now that she had superpowers, she was held up as an example of the U.S. commitment to equality for all. To say that the existence of a black superwoman was causing shock waves throughout the southern states of the U.S. would have been an understatement.
Clara reacted with surprise. "MacArthur is here? I thought he was in Seoul?" she said.
Firefly laughed. "Not MacArthur," she said. "He never comes up here. I mean Brigadier-General Janowski. Around here we just call her 'The General'."
Brigadier-General Angela Janowski, codenamed Liberty Belle, was a living legend. She was the woman who had ended the war in Europe by capturing Adolf Hitler in his underground bunker. She and another super called 'Amber Waves' had ended the war in the Pacific by using their powers to unleash a tsunami against the Japanese home islands. She was the original, all-American superwoman, and the commander of the 1st Superwomen Brigade of the U.S. Army. Even though the British had contributed twice as many supers to the Korean effort, Janowski had been picked to lead the UN Super-Women Expeditionary Force because she had so much command experience. There was also a significant psychological advantage to be had by sending such a high-profile super into action.
Another American super appeared in a blue of super-speed. "I call her 'The Bitch', personally," said the newcomer.
"Shut up, Hellion," said Firefly.
Hellion gave a sloppy salute. "Lt. Donna Harman, codename 'Hellion'," she said. "Pleased to meet you, fresh meat."
Hellion was a petite, blonde-haired woman with cold gray eyes. With her perfectly-coiffed hair and elegant poise, she might have stepped out of the society pages if she had not been wearing a superwoman battle uniform similar to the one worn by Firefly.
"Don't listen to anything that Hellion says," said Firefly.
Hellion blew a raspberry. "Don't listen to anything that Firefly says," she said. "I'll tell you everything you need to know about being in Korea: kill the norms that are coming from that direction." She pointed North towards China.
Firefly looked as if she was getting angry. "Don't call them 'norms'," she said. "The General doesn't like it!"
Hellion laughed. "Who cares?" she said. "I'll call them whatever I like: 'norms', 'normals', and 'feebs'. Un-powered humans are just walking sacks of meat waiting for me to burst them."
Firefly shook her head. "Ignore her," she said. "Standing orders are to minimize casualties on both sides. I'm going to take you to meet The General." She walked off and gestured for Clara to follow.
As they left, Hellion followed and kept talking. "My favorite is when they attack in a wave and I just fly through them at Mach five. There's nothing quite like smashing through a thousand men in a few seconds in a cloud of blood and bone. Better than sex." She licked her lips.
"You're disgusting, Hellion," said Firefly. "You're a disgrace to the Brigade."
Hellion responded with a racial slur that Firefly ignored. Hellion walked off in a huff.
"How the hell did somebody like that get through the screening process to become a superwoman?" asked Clara. "She's crazy!"
Firefly spat on the ground. "She's also the niece of a U.S. Senator. Strings were pulled. The General only selects half of the candidates for the U.S. superwoman program, the rest are selected by the Pentagon."
"Why is she allowed to remain if she is so disruptive?" asked Clara.
"What is the alternative?" said Firefly. "You cannot just send a superwoman back to civilian life. The General either hopes that she can file down some of Hellion's sharp edges, or she would just rather have Hellion inside the tent pissing out instead of outside the tent pissing in. Besides, and don't let Hellion know that I told you this, Hellion is one of the most powerful supers we have. She is also the most well-connected. There would be hell to pay if The General tried to drum Hellion out of the Brigade."
"Politics," said Clara.
"It's all politics around here," said Firefly.
Clara was beginning to realize that there was far more to being a super than just flying around and breaking things. As her country's sole super, she had to be a combination of role-model, ambassador and one-woman weapon of mass destruction. Her insides were in turmoil due to the conflict between the path she had chosen for herself and her natural inclination to stay in the background.
Brigadier-General Janowski's office was devoid of any creature comforts. The famous Liberty Belle sat on a simple folding chair behind an uneven metal desk. The walls of the small room in the temporary hut were plastered with maps of the Korean Peninsula. Colored pins showed where the members of the Superwomen Expeditionary Force were deployed along the front.
Firefly showed Clara into the office and left.
"Lt. McAuley," said Liberty Belle. "Welcome to our little corner of the war. Did you have a good trip?"
"Yes, sir!" replied Clara. "A little slow, but no problems."
Liberty Belle smiled. "I know how frustrating it is to travel by conventional means when you are capable of flying at several times the speed of sound. Please, sit." She gestured to a rickety folding chair.
Clara sat and crossed her legs. She looked around the bare office and the utilitarian, beaten-up furniture and wondered how much of that was due to Janowski's own tastes and how much was due to MacArthur's dislike of the U.S. Army's senior superwoman.
Clara had learned about the ongoing feud between Janowski and MacArthur during her time at Project Isis; it was the subject of gossip among allied supers. MacArthur hated the fact that his most powerful weapons were willful, independent-minded, young women and Janowski hated the fact that MacArthur treated the women under her command as weapons, rather than soldiers.
It was a symptom of a wider rift in society that Clara had seen first-hand during her brief time in the Australian Army. The military and political realms were dominated by middle-aged and elderly men who feared and resented the young superwomen who had turned established norms upside down.
During the war, women had entered the workforce in unprecedented numbers. They had tasted independence and economic freedom. After the war, inspired by the example of superwomen like Liberty Belle, they had resisted being put back into a subservient box. Young women were entering colleges in record numbers, going into business, going into politics, taking control of their lives, and generally not doing as they were told. Rosie the Riveter's call "We Can Do It" had become a rallying cry for women around the world to take control of their own destinies.
"I am going to be blunt, Lt. McAuley, because that I do not have time for niceties," said Liberty Belle. "You should not be here."
Clara could not keep the shocked expression from her face.
Liberty Belle held up her hand. "I know, I know," she said. "I am sure that you are a very capable young woman; I have nothing but respect for the work that they do at Project Isis. However, you are simply too inexperienced to have been thrust into a war zone. Your deployment was rushed through for political reasons so that Australia could say that they were contributing."
"That means that you are going to have to learn on the job," continued Liberty Belle. "In spite of what people like Hellion might tell you, we are not here to kill every Chinaman we see. This is a peace-keeping action, not a war of conquest. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" said Clara. "I'm here to learn from the best."
"That's the spirit," said Liberty Belle. "Supers are deployed for one week of active duty, followed by one week of rest."
"Excuse me, sir," said Clara, "but I don't need that much rest."
"Physically, no," said Liberty Belle, "but I know more than anybody the mental toll that comes from being a superwoman in a war zone. Even as part of a peace-keeping operation, you will kill more people in one day than a regular soldier will kill in his entire career. You need to be able to step back from the killing. You are not a gun."
"I understand, sir," said Clara.
Clara was relieved. Becoming a cold-hearted killer like Hellion seemed to be was one of her greatest fears about being a military superwoman.
"For your first tour of duty, I am going to pair you with Skylark for air-superiority patrols," said Liberty Belle. "Do you know Squadron Leader Quigley?"
"I know of her, but I have not had the pleasure of meeting her yet," replied Clara.
Squadron Leader Samantha Quigley, codenamed 'Skylark', had been Britain's first superwoman. Unknown to almost anybody, she had fought the Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain and the Blitz. After turning back a massive German raid on the city of Coventry, she had lapsed into a coma for four years and had not woken until the war was over. She had emerged from her coma more powerful than she had gone into it, and had expertly shouldered the responsibility of being Britain's sole superwoman until Project Isis had finally borne fruit.
"She can teach you everything you need to know about flying," said Liberty Belle. "According to your files, you have heat vision. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir," replied Clara.
The scientists at project Isis were far more advanced in their understanding of the Flux than anybody else in the world. That allowed the British to produce supers much faster, but it also allowed them to control the final result much better. British-produced supers all had a wide array of powers: strength, speed, invulnerability, flight, enhanced senses, and heat vision. Supers from other countries were more of a mixed bag. Liberty Belle, for example, did not have heat vision.
Britain's superwomen were the envy of the world, not just because of their capabilities. Turing's deep understanding of Flux had allowed them to produce more supers than anybody else. America may have had a head start, but the British had lapped them several times over. The Russians claimed to have even more supers, but nobody believed that every one of the thousands of beautiful women who marched across Red Square every year was really super-powered.
"Excellent," said Liberty Belle. "You can also practice strafing ground targets from the air. You are assigned to tent 17. You'll be bunking with Firefly. Come to me with any questions. Good to have you with us, Typhoon. You are dismissed."
Clara stood up, saluted and left to find her bunk.
Clara hovered in the air and watched the Chinese MiG 15 approach. The aircraft was moving at a painfully slow 600MPH and Clara thought that she might die of boredom waiting for the thing to reach her.
"What is this supposed to teach me, again?" asked Clara.
Skylark hovered next to her in the air, a tall, blonde woman, dressed in a non-standard outfit of short blue skirt and jacket. Skylark had the unique ability to project a force field that protected her clothes from harm, so she did not have to wear the tough battle-uniforms that other supers sported.
"Control," said Skylark.
The MiG 15 opened fire. Twin 23mm cannons raked across the two supers. Clara and Skylark were both completely invulnerable to the weapons, so they ignored the interruption.
As the plane approached, it banked to avoid colliding with Clara and Skylark.
"Now," said Skylark.
Clara carefully matched her motion to that of the MiG, remaining directly in the path of the aircraft. The pilot pulled the tightest turns that his Russian-made airplane was capable of, but to no avail. Wherever he went, Clara was in front of him, and the distance between them was closing rapidly. Realizing that there was no way to avoid collision with Clara, the pilot bailed out. The airplane ploughed into Clara's invulnerable body and disintegrated into a shower of metal pieces.
"Good job," said Skylark. "Now capture the pilot and deliver him to our side."
Clara and Skylark flew high above the Chinese countryside. Skylark motioned for Clara to stop when they were above what appeared to be an ordinary patch of woodland.
"What do you see?" asked the senior superwoman.
Clara looked around, but saw nothing. There were no enemy aircraft in sight, nobody was firing at them from the ground and there were no structures visible on the ground closer than fifty miles from their current location.
"I don't see anything," said Clara, but she had been through enough of Skylark's training exercises to know that that was the wrong answer.
"Look closer," said Skylark. "Use your super-vision to its fullest extent. Look for what is there and what is not there."
Clara looked again. There did not seem to be anything unusual about the patch of woodland directly below them: there were trees, leaves on the ground, flowers. She looked closer. There were no birds, no animals, and no insects. She moved her head from side to side, keeping her vision trained on the area below. Below her was not a piece of woodland; it was camouflage.
"It's a camouflaged airstrip," said Clara.
"Very good," said Skylark. "Now, let's find the ideal altitude for you to destroy it with your heat vision."
The two supers flew to a point five hundred feet above the disguised airstrip. Clara concentrated and fired her heat vision directly down. Fires began to burn in the netting that had covered the airstrip and the parked aircraft.
"Can you widen your beam?" asked Skylark.
Clara relaxed her focus and the heat vision beam broadened to cover a wider area. It must have caught a fuel tank, because a huge explosion ripped through the area below, stripping the last of the camouflage. A half dozen planes and a dozen Chinese Air Force personnel were exposed.
"Okay, I want to you take out each plane with a pulse of heat vision rather than a continuous beam," said Skylark.
Clara zapped each plane in turn with a micro-second burst of heat vision targeted at the fuel tanks. More explosions ripped through the area.
"Excellent shooting," said Skylark. "Now melt that airstrip."
Clara lowered her altitude to around two hundred feet. Scattered gunfire came from below, but even if one of the airmen had managed to hit her, it would have had no effect on her. She fired a broad beam of heat vision down onto the exposed concrete airstrip and poured as much heat into it as she could. The concrete glowed red and began to flow away from the impact zone. Soon there was a deep hole in the airstrip, lined with fused, glass-like concrete. It would be a while before anybody could land a plane there.
After a week of furlough, Clara's second tour of duty was on the front lines of the ground war. She was partnered with Firefly to patrol along sector Bravo.
The Chinese had learned that it was fruitless trying to attack supers with regular infantry, tanks or artillery, so they did not even try. Every offensive they mounted was aimed at causing casualties among the regular U.N. troops. The reasoning seemed to be that if they were able to inflict large numbers of casualties, then the allied governments would lose the will to fight the war. The problem with the strategy was that the U.N. supers were very good at blunting the attacks. The Chinese had suffered frightening numbers of casualties, but they showed no sign of running out of soldiers, or will.
On Clara's second day on the front, the Chinese tried something different.
The attack started with an artillery bombardment; heavy shells rained down on the U.N. positions from well-disguised Chinese positions. Firefly dealt with the incoming fire, knocking most of the shells out of the sky with her mighty fists. Clara flew up and towards the guns and quickly melted them into molten slag with her heat vision.
Chinese infantry began a rapid advance across the frozen plain towards the hills where the U.N. forces were dug in. They were supported by a scattering of light armored vehicles. So far, the attack was similar to a dozen earlier ones that had been repulsed by soldiers and supers in sector Bravo.
The difference this time was that three young Chinese women were at the forefront of the Chinese lines, floating several feet in the air.
Clara and Firefly regrouped and took stock of the situation.
"Chinese supers?" asked Clara. "I thought they didn't have any."
"I guess they do now," said Firefly. "The Russians have been selling planes, tanks, and guns to the Chinese. Maybe they decided to sell them some supers as well."
"What do we do?" asked Clara.
"Report to base and then go kick some ass," said Firefly. She flew back to the U.N. lines and barked out orders. "Call UNSWEF HQ and tell them that we have three hostile supers in sector Bravo!"
Firefly flew back to Clara. "Are you ready, Typhoon?" she asked.
"Ready to fight!" said Clara.
In truth, Clara was nervous as hell. Taking on helpless regular soldiers was one thing, but there was no telling how powerful the approaching superwomen were. She and Firefly had to try and stop them, though; if they were allowed to run amok along the U.N. lines the results could be devastating.
For the millionth time, Clara wondered how her brother felt before a big cricket match. Walking out onto the pitch, the stands filled with unforgiving supporters, to face fast, hostile bowling. He did not just walk; he swaggered. Clara tried to find that same confidence inside her, but it did not come naturally.
The two young supers flew towards the approaching Chinese forces and prepared to do battle. The Chinese supers were of average height and average beauty for supers, which is to say that they were stunningly attractive. They wore dark green shorts and jackets emblazoned with the flag of the People's Republic of China.
Clara fired her heat vision at the closest enemy super. She poured as much energy as she could into the twin red beams that emerged from her eyes, and was gratified to see the Chinese woman tumble back through the air.
The two remaining Chinese supers both had heat vision and they combined their beams against Firefly. Firefly screamed in pain, but kept flying towards the enemy, smoke pouring from livid wounds in her arms.
Clara and Firefly each closed with one of the enemy supers and commenced hand-to-hand combat. Clara was so focused on fighting her opponent that she was only dimly aware of how Firefly was doing against hers.
Clara's training in hand-to-hand combat was far from complete. She had been rushed into service so quickly that she had barely had time to pick up the basics of controlling her super-powers. Luckily, it appeared that her opponent had undergone even less training than she had. Neither of the combatants had much skill at blocking or dodging against a super-powered opponent, so the fight was mostly an exchange of stunningly powerful blows.
Clara struck her opponent in the stomach with a punch, sending her staggering back. The Chinese super responded with a strong kick to Clara's head, using her flight ability to gain some extra height. Clara's head rang from the strength of the blow, but the fact that her skull was intact indicated to her that she was stronger than her opponent. Clara took full advantage of this, peppering her opponent with a series of powerful blows to the head and chest, keeping her off balance.
The Chinese super tried to counter-attack, but Clara found that she could absorb the impacts and keep going. Clara kept punching, harder and harder. Her opponent staggered and fell to her knees. Clara swung and kicked her hard in the head, sending her flying through the air. The Chinese super fell to the ground, dead. Clara had the unfamiliar feeling of being tired, but she also felt triumphant. Maybe this was how Michael felt when he struck a ball over the boundary rope with a thundering blow from his bat.
Firefly had not fared quite as well against her opponent as Clara had against hers. She had beaten the Chinese super, but at a great cost. Her left arm appeared to be broken and she was covered in cuts and burns. She slumped with exhaustion.
Suddenly, the super that Clara had attacked first with her heat vision returned, coming out of nowhere to slam into Firefly at high speed. Clara heard the sickening crunch of Firefly's super-strong bones snapping. The American super collapsed to the ground, motionless, but still breathing.
Now there were two supers left standing. Clara fired her heat vision, but the Chinese super had guessed what was coming and had already swung out of the line of fire. While Clara was still adjusting to the unfamiliar feeling of having missed, the Chinese super closed the short distance between them and struck Clara hard in the head.
Clara staggered back. Her vision was blurred with spots. This woman was far stronger than Clara's previous opponent had been. Clara swung with her fists, fast and blind, and caught her opponent with a lucky blow. She followed this with a quick pulse of heat vision that kept her opponent off-balance. Clara tried to press home her advantage with a powerful right hook, but her punch was blocked; the Chinese super followed this with a vicious left hook to Clara's stomach.
Clara heard and felt several of her ribs break. Clara was astonished; since becoming a superwoman she had felt no discomfort whatsoever, but now she was in the greatest pain of her life. Clara roared and charged forwards. She wrapped her arms around the Chinese super and squeezed as hard as she could. While doing this, she fired her heat vision at her opponent's face; Clara saw the skin of the Chinese woman's lovely face blacken and blister in the intense heat. She was so shocked at what she had done that she loosened her grip and allowed her opponent to escape.
Now it was the Chinese super who roared with anger; she pummeled Clara with blow upon powerful blow, forcing her to her knees, leaving her with more broken bones. Clara fought to remain conscious. Clara's launched herself forward, smashing her head into the Chinese woman's stomach; Clara's opponent flew through the air and landed with a loud thud, unmoving. Clara lost consciousness.
The first words that Clara heard when she came to, three days later, were from Brigadier-General Angela Janowski herself. "You did good, kid," said Liberty Belle. "You did good."
Clara looked across at the next hospital bed, where Firefly was sitting up, grinning broadly and giving her a "thumbs up" sign.
The Chinese deployed fifteen Russian-made supers across the front during their Great Superwoman Offensive. All but two of them were killed or captured by the U.N. supers, led by Liberty Belle. On top of this, they also lost nearly 100,000 regular soldiers. A half dozen U.N. supers were killed in the fighting, along with 16,000 regular U.N. soldiers. This great disaster forced the Chinese and the U.N. to the negotiating table, where they concluded a peace treaty in record time. The Chinese withdrew from the rest of North Korea and agreed to recognize the united Republic of Korea; the Americans promised not to invade China.
The allied superwomen of the west mourned their fallen comrades, but stood tall in the knowledge that they had passed their first major test.