Congress moved as though it had never been in better health.
A meeting in the morning.
Debate at noon.
A vote in the afternoon.
The president's signature that evening.
Three hundred and ninety-eight votes in favor.
Two against.
The Superhuman Registration Act passed with almost no resistance.
The act's central provisions were simple.
All Metahumans, and all those who participated in public operations using superpowers, special equipment, mutated physiques, alien heritage, or magical abilities, had to register their real identities, power types, permanent locations, areas of operation, and known contacts with the federal government within ninety days.
Failure to register by the deadline constituted a federal felony.
Helping unregistered Metahumans evade scrutiny carried the same charge.
The presidential signing ceremony took place in the White House's East Room.
The lighting was excellent.
So were the smiles.
Facing the cameras, the president spoke in a steady, gentle voice.
"This is not directed at anyone."
Applause broke out as soon as he said it.
The president continued:
"This is to protect everyone. Freedom requires safety, and safety requires order."
The applause grew louder.
Smithson was there too.
He clapped very slowly.
His palms were sweaty.
A congressman beside him smiled and patted his shoulder.
"Smithson, that draft proposal you put forward on billing for emergency rescue services was excellent."
Smithson's face grew a little paler.
The congressman was still smiling.
"Charging for rescues by the minute, making those rescued cover wear and tear on heroes' equipment, denying priority rescue to people who can't afford the fees. Honestly, I thought it was too blunt when I first saw it, but then the Finance Committee ran the numbers. Very inspired."
Someone else chimed in:
"The insurance companies love it too. They're already preparing new superhero disaster policies. Private emergency care, hero response, compensation for