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Post By The Hooded Hood offers an adult content warning for this status-quo changing special episode Sat Feb 25, 2006 at 08:10:53 am EST |
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#260: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Dark Decisions, or Thoughtcrime is Death | |
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| #260: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Dark Decisions, or Thoughtcrime is Death Content Warning: This issue contains some unpleasant and violent bits. It’s not suitable for minors or people who are easily upset. Previously: Special Resolution 1066 is less than a month off becoming law, compelling all metahumans to undergo government registration and be imprinted with a psycho-organic “Patriot Brand” to over-ride their behaviour if required. The Lair Legion has discovered that the programme is an attempt to appease the worlds-conquering Parody Master, and the Obedience Brand technology is from him. However, the governments of the world have long conspired about how to take down the superheroes if necessary, and now it seems as though that day has come. Recent Chapters relevant to this story, collected in omnibus form: #255: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Forbidden and Dangerous #256: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: More Forbidden and More Dangerous #257: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Very Forbidden and Very Dangerous Known SR1066 Antagonists: The Parody Master - the secret archvillain that’s blackmailing the world into doing this on pain of massacre The Doomherald - his emissary and go-between Round the big table: Edward Cromlyn - representing the mysterious cabal of cabals, the Shadow Cabinet Dr Vicki Farmer - Chair of House Special Commission on Metahuman Affairs Herbert P Garrick - Presidential Advisor on Metahuman Affairs (now Obedience Branded) Hector Manchester - Office of Paranormal Security Rex Regent - Special Advisor on Interfering and Organising Exemplary - Head of the Super-menace Principal Undercover Directorate (SPUD) Mrs Harmanda Barriere - heading the Special Protocols Against Metahumans (SPAM) Aldrich Grey (The Grey Eminence) (dead against it, but wickedly smart at waiting his time) Doing the dirty work: Ruben Holcomb - Federal Metahuman Resource Centre (FMRC), Garrick's Deputy General "Thunderclap" Rott - Joint Chiefs of Staff (not keen, but loyal) General Shamus McTaggart - FMRC (again, probably not that keen) Roni Y Avis - PR perception maker Cyrus Honig - Founder and CEO of COPE (Committee for the Occulation of Paranormal Experiences) Harry Flask, the Lynchpin of Crime Montiver Hole - CEO of ZOXXON Oil Splendiferous Stuart - running the vigilante MetaWatch movement Graf Werner Hertzog - lord of vampires, preparing the occult Underwar The Machine Shop - a mercenary team of lethal designer robots The Sentinoids - mutate-hunting law enforcement suits and robots Other cast and locations are at Who's Who in the Parodyverse and Where's Where in the Parodyverse. Previous chapters are found on The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom.  “Hi there! I’m Jingo Belle, the All-American Action Angel… and I’m proud to support my country with a Patriot Brand. I’m calling on all loyal superheroes to come down and sign up to serve our nation in line with the Freedom and Patriot Act. There’s no cost – in fact there’s a reservist stipend! And you have the honour of holding your head high in fellowship with your metahuman brothers and sisters who are pulling for the US of A. Remember, deadline’s the end of the month, so hurry and join me and all true blue American legends as we uphold our great country in the war on metaterror. Register today!” It was like the start of a joke: the Lynchpin of Crime walks into a bar… It went deathly quiet in Gino’s. The fat man in the white suit stalked past the bikers and rockers and found the barman. “Mr Torini. You owe me money.” Gino Torini looked at Harry Flask in disbelief. “You come here? You come here alone, without your bodyguards, and you try to shake me down?” “We had an agreement. Then you stopped paying. With interest I believe you now owe me sixty-eight thousand four hundred and thirty dollars and change. Or an arm and a leg.” Gino’s eyes flicked to the regulars. Some were nervous, looking for the other shoe to fall. Were there gunsels outside, or hired metahuman talent waiting to back the Lynchpin up? He nodded to Rancid to find out. “I don’t get my protection from you now, fatso,” Gino said at last. He could see Jackal and Fisher and Deacon Brown unshipping bike chains and knives and moving in behind the corpulent bald crimelord. “This bar’s sponsored now by the Zoot Suit boys. We don’t need no blubberbag lording it over us no more.” “Yes, I have a message for the Zoot Suit Gang,” Harry Flask agreed. “What, you fallen so low that you’re playin’ your own messenger boy now?” Jackal snickered. The Lynchpin shrugged. “I felt I needed some exercise.” “We’ll give you some then,” Gino warned. “Rancid, lock the doors.” “No need,” said the Lynchpin of Crime. “I already did that.” And then he reached over with lightning speed and slammed Gino’s face through the bartop. His victim’s skull shattered like an egg. He turned and slapped down Fisher and the Deacon with the barkeep’s corpse, then punched a fist right through Jackal. And he was just getting started. Ten minutes later he unlocked the door and walked to his waiting limo. His suit wasn’t white now, it was bright sticky red. And he was grinning. “I need to get out of the office more often, Morris,” he told his driver. “They got the message, boss?” The Lynchpin looked back at the roadside bar. No-one inside was alive now except the one patron he’d left to pass on the word with multiple broken limbs and his eyes gouged out. “I think so,” Harry Flask smirked. “But let’s make sure. Take me to Madame Carriere’s place. She owes me too.” “This meeting will come to order,” called Edward Gramayre. The other people sat around the antique table in the smoky room stopped talking amongst themselves and focussed their attention. And a very distinctive lot they were. Gramayre was in the chair today, by virtue of being the representative of the Shadow Cabinet, that conspiracy of conspiracies, the senior service. Steely eyed and steely haired, he looked around the room to gather the attention of his colleagues. Dr Vicki Farmer, Chair of House Special Commission on Metahuman Affairs, was a young blonde woman in a smart power suit. Her agenda was already heavily annotated from her preparation for the meeting. Herbert P Garrick, Presidential Advisor on Metahuman Affairs, sat with fervent attention, bending all his energies to accomplishing his mission as his Obedience Brand demanded. Hector Manchester, political appointee Director of the Office of Paranormal Security looked nervous and out of his depth. Rex Regent, consulting on the processes of Obedience Branding an estimated eight thousand superheroes worldwide wore a sharp three-piece and made notes in his powerbook. Mrs Harmanda Barriere, heading the Special Protocols Against Metahumans (SPAM) glared at him. The large black woman had brought all her files on paper. Aldrich Grey sat back and enjoyed a fine Havana cigar, knowing that as with all indulgences these days he would pay for it later; and knowing that everything he learned in this meeting would aid his goal of bringing this cabal down. “Twenty-six days until 1066 is law,” Gramayre summarised. “I need to know that each of you is up to speed. Rex?” “Speeding nicely, thank you,” the business tycoon grinned. “The main challenge was co-ordinating our programme with the overseas initiatives, but the trade sanction threats and the military implications for countries that didn’t gain direct control of metahuman assets seems to have solved that. So far we’re looking at a 36% sign-up rate of known meta assets, and we’re projecting a curve up to around 85% before deadline. Of course, many of the remaining 15% will be the high profile capes but that’s not my department.” “Metawatch?” Harmanda Barriere prompted. “Working out nicely, and totally unattributable,” Regent replied. “Splendiferous Stuart has his own little cult going there. Plus we’re getting intel on some very unpleasant characters in the fringe political movements that we’ll need to deal with in phase three of reordering. That’s just bonus.” “The mutate depowerment incident was unplanned, of course,” Garrick put in, “but it’s been terribly helpful, freeing up a lot of assets to concentrate on other situations.” “I’d have been a lot happier if it had been planned,” scorned the Grey Eminence. “Any plan that depends on good luck doesn’t sit well with me.” “Aldrich, it’s all under control,” Rex Regent grinned at his old friend. “We can benefit from good breaks. We can deal with the bad ones.” “Rogue nation states?” prompted Dr Farmer. “We’re still facing threats of nuclear retaliation from Borovia. That’s going to take some special meta-help. Spango’s fallen into line though. They don’t want to be the next Iran or Sybia. Candia’s closed its borders. Situation’s still developing there.” “Badripoor?” demanded Mrs Barriere. “Problematic. We’ve decided it’s going to be best to arrange a new President there. We’re working on it.” “Good,” Special Agent Garrick said, stifling a satisfied smile. “Don’t new Presidents out there usually come to power after the assassination of their predecessor?” “Yes,” agreed Regent. “Moving on,” Gramayre prompted, “Mister Garrick?” “We’ve got our metahuman recruits running security on the Brandings in the penal facilities,” Bad News Herb reported. He ignored the snickers about the security breaches caused by two Lair Legion visits to his offices. “We expect the Branding process to be completed before deadline, and we’re already diverting useful subjects into the Terminus Team under Major Standard. We expect to be able to field around a thousand or so recruits by the time of the 1066 deadline.” “And in the meantime we’re hiring out our Sentinoids to criminal thugs like Harry Flask to settle personal scores,” objected Dr Farmer. “The real world always involves a little give and take,” Aldrich Grey noted. “I’ve also added Baroness von Zemo to the Branding list,” Garrick reported. “We says she wants in with us, but I don’t trust her and we need her metahuman tracking technology. I’d be a lot happier with Elizabeth von Zemo under strict discipline.” “I bet you would,” Rex Regent grinned. “You dog.” “What about your work, Vicki?” Cromlyn checked. “How are the robots and freaks coming along?” “As expected,” answered the chair of the Commission. “The Machine Shop has been useful overseas since we recruited them, especially in those nations that were reluctant to follow US initiative on metahuman control. We’ve recruited agents in the occult community to help us map and lock down so-called magic workers and creatures. Right now we’re working with Graf Hertzog and Belladonna Rouge to recruit a second tier of operatives like the Abyssal Luminosus, Bogdan Vlastivock, and the Picnic of Doom. You know I can’t believe I’m making a report on stuff like this.” “It’s ridiculous but necessary,” the Shadow Cabinet representative assured her. “Carry on.” “A lot of targets are going to ground as we expected they would, but we’ve authorised sanctions right from the go-get with these people. If you can call them people. There’s a news blackout on the whole Underwar, of course. The only place you’ll hear about it is World Weekly News.” “Hector?” Gramayre prompted. “On target,” reported the man from the Office of Paranormal Security. “Cyrus Honig’s COPE organisation has helped us identify and neutralise a number of previously unsuspected metahumans. We’re quietly working on oblique ways to eliminate more. For example, we have an asset inside the Globetrotting Gangbusters, the supposedly reformed-criminal emergency rescue team operating out of Seattle. We know they’re mostly planning to run. He’ll hand his team over to us well before deadline so we can quietly Brand the lot of them.” “What about the other high profile teams?” Grey demanded. “Jet Starscream and his media-loving performers look like they’ll be taking the cash,” Hector Manchester reported. “The Man Team went down with a fight. Giant Robot Six went down without a fight, obedient little children that they are to that mad professor of theirs. We even have the Belgian Waffle Five on side now.” “The Heckfire Club?” “Protected. The Doomherald says they get special dispensation.” “And the Lair Legion?” “Well, they were always going to be the big problem, weren’t they? But we’ve started. Messenger and the Dark Knight are both down and out. And we’ve removed Lisa Waltz, Al B. Harper, Yo, the Librarian and Fin Fang Foom away from the pack.” “We’ve just served notice and taken control of Bautista Enterprises,” Harmanda Barriere chipped in. “Allegations of tax fraud and illegal weapons dealing. There’s a warrant out for Bautista and his bodyguard NTU-150. Unfortunately he somehow got wind of it and retreated to the Philippines. They’ll deal with it at their end now.” “We might as well move on to the Special Protocols then,” Gramayre decided. “Are we ready, Harmanda? Can we do it?” “Can we bring the superheroes down?” the black woman snorted. “Like we did in the 40s? Sure we can. We’re ready. I have programmes ready to go against each of the Legion. Some of the operatives are already in the field. Operation: Friends and Family is good to go.” “How’s Commander Black working out?” smirked Edward Cromlyn, speaking of the agent he had literally dug up weeks earlier. “Wilton flew out to England a few hours ago, so he must be doing something right,” Barriere admitted. “The next rank of targets are Hatman, CrazySugarFreakBoy!, and Dancer.” “Not Epitome?” questioned Hector Manchester. “We’re still working on scenarios that bring him over to the right side,” snapped the Grey Eminence. He didn’t say what he considered the right side to be. “The Legion isn’t well prepared to cope with an assault that doesn’t involve punches,” Barriere went on. “Oh, when the time comes we’ve hired Ulz Hagen to destroy HALLIE and Vlastivock to bind the Shoggoth and so forth, but we’re crippling them just now with litigation and media assaults.” “We lost our primary source inside the Lair Mansion,” Garrick noted sourly. “But we know enough to profile what they’re going to do,” Harmanda promised. “Dr Valium and his Herringcarp programme was very helpful in that. They’re going to resist. 87% likely they’ll go to ground again and try and form some kind of movement against us. We’re ready for that. We’re waiting for it. We want it.” “They’ve done that kind of thing very effectively before,” Dr Farmer noted. “That’s why we’re ready for them this time,” answered Barriere. “Does anybody here have a problem with a high level of Legionnaire fatalities?” Nobody objected. “What about our big red ally’s other… requests?” Rex Regent reminded people. “His dating ambitions, and the trinkets he’d like.” “That’s Exemplary’s department,” Cromlyn reported. “He’s out there right now working on that. It’s why he’s not here today. The Parody Master will get his chosen brides and his talking knife within the deadline.” “And then we all live happily ever after?” snorted Aldrich Grey. “Except for the superheroes,” answered Herbert Garrick with a happy little smile. “Hello?” April Pepper looked curiously at the smart handsome man in the grey business suit. The old lady didn’t have many visitors these days. “Miss Pepper?” the called checked, showing her some kind of official badge. “May I come in?” “I was just doing the laundry,” Aunt April explained. “What’s this all about?” “It’s about Joseph,” he explained, snapping the door chain and entering the house. Exemplary hurled the octegenarian across the room to crash through her hall table. Aunt April tried to get up but there was a sharp pain when she breathed. She could hardly hear for the blood pounding in her ears. “I’d like you to pass on a message to your superhero nephew,” Exemplary said, picking her up as if she was a twig, slamming her against the wall. “Tell ManMan that he’s got twenty-four hours to get his fat lard ass down to the metahuman registration offices and turn in that talking knife of his. Tell him it’s confiscated. If it’s not on my desk by tomorrow morning…” “What…” gasped Aunt April, trying to breathe as Exemplary held her up by her throat. “Well then, I’ll be coming back to see you again,” the Director of SPUD explained, clinically breaking Aunt April’s right forearm, once, twice, three times.. “And then I’ll be looking up that pretty Gwen girl that Joe used to date. And maybe that Widget woman he’s been running around with recently. And neither of them will be as pretty when I’ve finished.” Aunt April screamed as he broke her other arm. “So be convincing when you talk to your nephew, won’t you? Because you wouldn’t believe how nasty I can get when I don’t get what I want.” But Aunt April has already passed out. A trickle of blood ran from her nose. Exemplary used his bio-field manipulation powers to restart her heart and dropped her on the hall floor. He picked up the phone and dialled 911. “Hello. You’d better get to 1186 Romita Road. Looks like somebody’s assaulted a dear old lady…” Frank Sinatra was Putting on the Ritz on the gramophone and Frankie was polishing his spats ready for the jazz club later when the news came in about Gino’s bar. Wide Tony and Fresno Louis were the first in, but Gamona the assassin slipped in behind them. “Frankie,” warned Wide Tony, “There’s been a problem. An accident.” “Accident?” snorted Louis. “Hell, if you call fifteen tons of Lynchpin rolling over Gino and everybody in the place, then taking out Rita Carriere’s and that hooch joint down on Kane to hammer his point home an accident then sure it was accidental.” Frankie put down his chamois leather. “You’re telling me the Lynchpin’s boys have made a move?” the leader of the Zoot Suit Gang demanded. He glanced across at the green-skinned woman who had previously been the Lynchpin of Crime’s top enforcer. Now she wore a neat two-piece suit and a jaunty fedora as an agent of the Zoots. “Flask has made his move,” she confirmed. “Not his men, either. He killed everybody personally.” “Gino?” Frankie checked with the others. “What about Detroit Stan? Knuckles? Bengal Lily?” “All ripped to pieces, boss,” Wide Tony warned him. “I guess that Lynchpin don’t have no sense of humour.” “Or self preservation,” added Fresno Louis. “Don’t he know that now this means war?” “He knows,” Gamona assured them. “He’s known all along. He’s been waiting for this moment.” Frankie was quick on the uptake. “Special Resolution 1066. Flask has his pudgy face deep into that trough. And now it’s going ahead he thinks that shifts the balance of power back his way.” “It does,” the assassin told him. She began unbuttoning her clothes to hand them back to the Zooters who’d given them to her. “He’s going to use the Sentinoid anti-mutate robots to wipe you out,” she warned them. “He’s getting them loaned to him for services rendered.” “Sentionoids?” Wide Tony repeated nervously. “They could cause us some trouble, I guess. We were prepared for Branded villains, but not big mutate-hunter robots.” “If they can find us,” Louis pointed out. “There’s a reason we call this a secret hideout.” “They can find you,” Gamona told them. “I set the beacon.” She handed the last of her borrowed clothing back to Frankie. The armour mesh tattoos over her entire flesh made her seem to be wearing a fishnet bodystocking. Even her hair had the strength of tensile steel. “Oh, Mona,” Frankie said in a disappointed tone. “I thought you were happier with us?” “I actually am, Frankie,” the assassin confessed, “But a contract is a contract. To be honest I only signed up with Flask because I was stuck on your planet with nothing to do. Before that I worked for Dark Thugos, Tyrant of the Sol Empire, Lord of Apocalyspe, ever since he destroyed all my race and took me at five years of age to forge into the perfect killing machine. So you can imagine that I quite enjoyed the new experiences your jazz parties and hooch.” “Then why betray us?” Gamona shot him an apologetic look. “It’s about professionalism. Sorry, Frankie. Flask wanted to know your hideout. This was the means.” She glanced around her. “The Sentinoids will be here in less than five minutes. But I know that clever fellahs like you will have got emergency evacuation plans and two or three fall-back hideouts, right?” “Half a dozen,” agreed Frankie, thumbing a button on his desk. “So are you going to try and stop us leaving?” “I was going to originally,” Gamona admitted, “but now I’m thinking not. Take care, Frankie.” “You too, Mona. And tell wide load that this isn’t finished yet.” “I’ll tell him that,” the assassin agreed. “I have lots of things to tell him.” “The confirmation is coming in,” Pelopia, Disciple of Logos, told her father Gideon Book, the Word of Order. “Flask used Sentinoids against the Zoot Suit Gang. He’d done a deal with Garrick and Exemplary. He is on the inner circle.” The two individuals on the top floor of the Book Tower in Seattle could not have been more different. Pelopia was clad in white, her shaved head only accentuating her exotic beautiful features. Book was in black, his thin scholar’s face partially obscured by his Shades of Grey, powerful smoked glasses that assisted him with the rare condition that made looking at colours painful to him. But between them they controlled one of the most powerful financial empires on the planet, and ran the Order of Order dedicated to promoting, well, order, across the Parodyverse. “Flask is irrelevant,” the Word decided. “He and Akiko Masamune and the others can all wipe each other out. Perhaps a new leader will emerge who will bring more discipline and control to the East Coast criminal economy. No, our concern is where to position ourselves vis a vis the Parody Master’s ambitions to conquer the Parodyverse.” “Why not what we usually do, father? Maintain a passive watching role, offer minimal co-operation to avoid conflict, and wait to see how events unfold and how we can shape them to the benefit of Order?” “That may not be possible this time, Pelopia.” Book gestured to the lobby beyond. “Bring our guest in. Let’s hear what he has to say.” The disciple of Logos ushered in the Parody Master’s Doomherald. “Nice place you have here,” the messenger grinned, looking round the monochrome office. “Homey.” “The Word of Order awaits your embassage,” Pelopia said in tones of formal disapproval. “I bet he does. How do you do, Mr Book? Or can I call you Gideon?” “As you wish. What does the Parody Master have to say to me?” “Oh, he’s pleased with you, Gid. He’s very happy that you didn’t get in the way of the government programme to bring all those metahumans you’ve been funding under control. He’s very happy you put us on to PsychoAcidPervGirl!’s secret identities.” “Then I would appreciate no further interference in the smooth running of my businesses while you conclude your endeavours,” said the Word. “No further interference it is then,” promised the Doomherald. “Well, just one interference, but then that’s it.” “Which is?” “Which is that, to be honest, my boss doesn’t trust you, Gid. You’re slippery. You’re too smart for comfort. And you’ve this little trick of going along with things so far and then putting a spoke in the wheels.” The Doomherald grinned. “You have to admit you do that, Word.” “My agenda is quite open,” Book replied. “I serve Order. I am the principal servant of Order.” “Hmm. Well anyhow, my boss – that is the Parody Master, lord of all he surveys etc. – wants surety of your loyalty. A stronger alliance.” The Doomherald nodded over to Pelopia. “A bride.” “A bride,” repeated Book. “The Parody Master seeks to add Pelopia to his coterie of talented and powerful consorts as a means of ensuring my co-operation.” “Yep. That’s about it. Congratulations, dad. It’s a great match.” “Your Master seeks to take me as his wife?” Pelopia scowled. “You’ve always known that I would seek to breed you with some powerful entity who could further our cause,” Book pointed out to her. “By definition there is none more powerful than the Parody Master.” “None,” agreed the Doomherald. “I already have a child,” Pelopia pointed out. “Fathered on me by Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove, the CrazySugarFreakBoy!” “That can be disposed of with no fuss at all,” the Doomherald assured her. “The boss isn’t big on children of former liaisons. The important thing is you’ve got a chance at the big times now, if only your pappy gives the nod. What do you say, Gid? Without using that Voice of Reason, please. I’ve been protected.” The Word smiled thinly. “I will consider the matter,” he promised. “I will consider the matter closely.” “Mr Limpqvist Lundquist, formerly of the Interdimensional Transportation Corporation?” “Who wants to know? Who do you think you are, breaking into my house like this? How did you find me anyhow?” Exemplary smirked. “We’re the government, Mr Limpqvist. The new world government. We know things. Hold him down.” The delicate-looking well groomed manager was pinioned by two SPUD troopers while a third ripped his silk shirt open and applied an Obedience Brand. “Welcome to the team,” Exemplary congratulated him. He turned to the techs. “Give him his instructions, ship him to the helicarrier. What’s next?” “Sir, we have teams ready to go on the other class B targets, awaiting your word.” “The word is given. Take ‘em down. What else?” Another officer spoke up. “We’re wanting to bring forward the media leveraging. We’re picking up some flack from the liberal press, backlash against SR 1066, jokes on the networks, things like that. Mr Avis wants us to nip it in the bud.” “Then nip it. Make an example of the worst offender. Where are we with Graham?” “Commissioner Graham was… not co-operative with our requests for assistance, sir. He threatened to have our agents arrested. He had them escorted from police headquarters.” “The old man’s got guts. I might have to show him them before I make him eat them. Okay, he’s got a daughter, right?” “Sir, the observation team on Bethany Shellett’s apartment reports there’s no-one there. Not her, not the Leyton woman, not Katz. They’ve vanished.” “The old man’s got them to safety, has he? Very smart,” appreciated the Director of SPUD. “And very dumb. Because now we have to go after him. Add him to the ops list.” “Yes sir.” “And let’s move on to the next target.” “How is she?” asked Alice White as she saw Joe Pepper heading to the admin desk at the Phantomhawk Memorial Hospital Emergency Room. “Joe?” ManMan was dressed in his caretaker’s work overalls and a scruffy hunting jacket. He was even paler than the girl enquiring after his aunt. “She’s sedated,” he replied, signing the insurance forms for bills he couldn’t afford. “While they reset her bones. She’ll be out until tomorrow.” The would-be-supervillainess known as the Widget looked uncomfortable. “But will she be… okay?” “She’s an old lady in her eighties and she was beaten up by somebody with superhuman strength,” ManMan snapped. “What do you think?” “It wasn’t Alice that did it, Joe,” advised Knifey, Joe Pepper’s talking knife. “It’s not fair to treat her as if she did. Unclench.” ManMan seethed for a moment. “Sorry, Alice,” he said at last. “It’s just that… apparently before she was anaesthetised – before I got here – Aunt April was able to tell the cops what happened to her. Why it happened to her.” “Who was it? Why?” “Some big guy in a suit. He wanted me to register with that Freedom and Patriotism Act crap. He wanted me to turn in Knifey.” The Widget glanced down at the blade that Joe was turning over and over in his hands. “And will you?” “If I don’t, apparently this guy will be coming back. For my aunt. For Stacy. For you.” “I can look after myself,” argued the Widget. “I’ve won almost a whole battle now. Admittedly, it was against you and then you swallowed one of my remote combat drones, but still…” “This is serious, Alice,” Joe warned. “Why do you think I gave up the costumed superhero bit in the first place? It’s dangerous.” “Gave up?” queried Knifey. “You told me you’d just sent all your Elvis suits to the cleaners.” “It is dangerous,” Alice admitted. “But… if you just do what they say, what the law says, take the Patriot Brand…” “Give up Knifey? Let them control me? Who’s going to go for a deal like that?” snorted ManMan. Alice White gave him an embarrassed look. “Joe… I did. And if you do then we could be… together.” “Anna? Is that you?” “Kit? Kit, where are you? You just disappeared from class! I’ve been worried sick.” “I’m okay, Anna,” Captain Courageous assured his girlfriend. “I got sent to Paradopolis. To the Lair Mansion. They’re talking about assigning me for a tenure in their Junior Training Programme. It’s a great honour.” Anna Kensington slid out of her bed and wrapped herself in an old blanket as she took the portable phone into the bathroom. “Just now? Have you seen the papers, Kit? And there were two guys came to the dorm, looking for you. Serious guys.” “I don’t know about that, Anna. I just wanted you to know that I’m alright. It took me a while to track you down to your uncle’s house.” “With you out of town there wasn’t much point staying on campus. Besides, I wanted to tinker, and you know me when I get the urge to… Kit? Kit? Are you there?” But the phone was dead. Anna checked the battery charge but it was a line problem. She reached into her rucksack and pulled out her mobile. That wasn’t working either. Anna was already running for the cellar when the armed forces blew in her front door. They were surprised by the screamer sirens set to protect the hallway. “Find her!” shouted Exemplary, ignoring the noise and ripping the steel shutter away from the basement stair. The troops deactivated Anna’s home-made gadget home defences with all the speed they could given the ingenuity with which they’d been set. They rushed down into the cellar to add Captain Courageous’ girlfriend to the list of friends and family that could be used against the superhero community. They were too late. Anna was gone. And so was the advanced mechanised Blacksmith armour she’d been working on. Wilson Flask sat in his limo and watched giant war machines shaped like purple humanoids stamp flat a patch of real estate that had previously been the Zoot Suit Gang’s headquarters. He wasn’t happy. “You warned them,” he accused Gamona, looking at his restored assassin. “Yes,” she agreed. She glanced across at Kwatrain, the Apocalyspian killer who had been filling in for her during her absence. “I wanted Frankie and all his freaky crazy buddies dead by now.” “Yes,” Gamona said again. “But they got away. Frankie says this isn’t finished yet.” “It will be,” Flask told her. “Because you will track him down and eliminate every last one of those annoyances. Save Frankie till last, so he can see the dismembered corpses of all his friends.” “No,” said Gamona. She saw Kwatrain shift his weight very slightly. He was very good. He’d trained her since she was five years old. “No?” The Lynchpin of Crime had changed suits since his visit to Gino’s, but there was still blood under his fingernails. The look he gave Gamona reminded her that it was a very bad mistake to underestimate this corpulent-looking crimelord. “I’m resigning, Mr Flask. Right now. I have other work I need to do now.” The Lynchpin raised a finger to hold back Kwatrain. “Other work?” he enquired. “Such as?” “The Parody Master has murdered Dark Thugos,” Gamona answered. “He has conquered Apocalyspe, and all the minions there have sworn fealty to him to save their skins.” She cast a contemptuous glance at Kwatrain. “I have sworn to avenge my mentor by slaying the Parody Master.” Harry Flask considered this. “Ambitious,” he admitted. “And it suits my purposes if that could somehow be achieved. But I think if it was beyond your mentor it will be beyond you, Gamona. What makes you think you can succeed where Dark Thugos himself fell?” Gamona tossed her long raven hair and looked up proudly. “I shall recruit allies,” she told him. “I intend to go now and join the Lair Legion.” Exemplary looked for the most expensive object d’art in the reception hall and crumpled it to dust in his hands. He was starting to get angry. “Well?” he demanded of his terrified tech team. They knew that had to come up with results fast. They’d fumbled the ball breaking the security at Schloss von Zemo. It had taken too long to break through the defencebots and force fields. And six men had been taken down by traps of increasing ingenuity and cruelty. “We’ve broken into her security computer,” a relieved SPUD operative reported. “We’re getting playback now. Just a fragment, but it’s the relevant bit.” “Show me.” The laptop monitor fizzed and crackled then resolved into an image of the office of Baroness Elizabeth Sweetwater Dewdrop Zemo von Saxe-Lurkburg-Schreckhausen. The Baroness stood behind her desk, confronting another woman who held a sword and was swathed head-to-toe in a stylish purple bodysuit. “What did you do to Sally?” Elizabeth von Zemo demanded. “Concentrated acetone,” replied Citizen Z. “Dissolves silicone. Good for killing metahumans made of the stuff.” “I know. I had such reserves in stock in case it ever became expedient to divest myself of my bodyguard.” “That’s where I got them from, Beth. You outsmarted yourself.” The Baroness shifted towards the desk but Citizen V leaped over it to push the villainess back into her chair. “Ah-ah. Let’s keep this between you and me: the bitch who murdered my parents and the avenger who’s going to end your miserable life.” “Oh really. Have I accidentally dropped into a comic-book? Have you been bitten by a radioactive Dark Knight? Please, don’t bore me with that You Killed My Parents crap. Take the insurance money and go to Disneyland.” “Don’t mock me, Zemo. I’ve spent a long time setting this up. It ends today.” “Where’s your proof, darling? Where’s your chain of evidence? Where’s your moral high ground? You have nothing. And don’t think you’re getting a spontaneous confession out of me.” Citizen Z drew back the sword. “I don’t need any confession. I know the truth. You know it too. And now you know justice.” “I’d call it revenge myself,” the Baroness sneered as Citizen Z plunged the blade into her chest. Exemplary watched the tape as the intruder severed Beth von Zemo’s head and departed with it. “Well, that saved us one job,” he noted dryly. “We won’t need to be adding Zemo to the Obedience Brand club. But add this Citizen Z to the pull list. Flag her as a priority.” “She’s interfered with a Zemo plot before, sir,” an analyst informed the Director of SPUD. “That ZOXXON case. She worked with the Lair Legion.” “And now she’s a wanted murderess.” Exemplary glanced at his tech team. “We can still get what we came for though, the command codes to that system of super-power detectors the Baroness was setting up across the planet. That should make tracking and tagging metas a lot more simple.” The technicians exchanged panicked glances. “Sir, von Zemo’s database. All the information. It’s gone.” Joe Pepper paced the waiting lounge on the thirteenth floor of the hospital, talking with his knife to the alarm of other visitors. “I’m sorry, Knifey, really I am.” “Look, I said it was your choice, Joe, and I meant it. If you want to take the Brand and hand me in that’s the way it is. I can’t force somebody to wield me for justice. It’s got to be a partnership.” “I could give you away,” ManMan suggested. “Pass you on to somebody else to use. Somebody better.” “That’s not the way it works, Joe. Besides, the condition was that you hand me over to the authorities. I’m guessing they’re curious about what I am and how to make more of me.” “Will they be able to do that?” “Not without reordering the fundamental rules of the Parodyverse first, no. But this isn’t about me. It’s about you. You have to decide what’s right for you, Joe.” ManMan swallowed hard. “They came after my aunt, Knifey. Aunt April. They’re totally ruthless. I can’t… There’s no way to protect everybody I love all the time. There’s no way for me to fight back.” “I’d certainly love to offer a few sharp pointers to whoever tortured your aunt,” agreed Knifey. “But getting within range, that’s the hard part.” “You saw the newspapers. The homes of known metahumans bombed by vigilantes, the litigation they’re bringing against unlicensed superheroes, the way the press is pounding us. Nobody can stand up to that.” “Thoughtcrime does not entail death,” Knifey quoted George Orwell. “Thoughtcrime is death.” “Well, the point is… Knifey, I think I’m going to have to fold. For Aunt April’s sake. I’m sorry.” “Well, if that’s your choice…” Knifey began, but was interrupted by the nurse telling them that April Pepper was awake and wanting to see them. They tabled the discussion and went into the medical room where the old lady swathed in plaster and bandages was strapped to pulleys and surrounded by plastic tubes. “Aunt April?” Manman ventured, his voice hoarse with guilt and anguish. “Joe?” She was barely audible. “Aunt April, I’m so sorry you were hurt because of me,” Joe told her. “I never meant for…” “Neither of us meant for you to be put in harm’s way,” chipped in Knifey. “We didn’t want…” “Oh shut up, both of you,” the old lady hissed. “I take it you heard what that terrible man told me?” “We heard,” agreed Joe. “Knifey and I have been talking, and I’ve had to decide…” “Well then, you listen to me Joseph Pepper. Are you listening?” “Yes, Aunt April.” “And you Knifey, are you listening as well?” “Yes, Aunt April.” “Well then. Here’s what you have to do. If they’re threatening to hurt me again, I want you to fight. If they hurt me again, I want you to fight. If they come after your friends, fight. If they go after any innocent person, fight. Because we Peppers do not back down from bullies and we do not roll over and surrender even if the whole world is trying to stop us from doing the right thing. We’re not quitters just because the job gets hard. So don’t you start thinking about giving up being a hero now, Joseph Pepper, because right now is when this world needs its heroes the most.” ManMan looked down on the bruise-mottled, pain-wracked old lady with open-mouthed awe. “Aunt Alice…” “Do you hear me, nephew? It’s time for somebody to take a stand. It’s time for you to take a stand. Knifey, you make him take a stand, you hear me? You hear me?” “We hear you, Aunt Alice,” answered the talking blade. “Good,” said the injured octogenarian, and slumped back into unconsciousness. “Well Gid?” asked the Doomherald. “Time’s up. I need to take an answer back to the boss. Are you for him or against him? Does he get the hand of the lovely lady?” The tall man in the leathers looked around the penthouse office. “Where is the lovely lady anyhow? Picking out her trousseau?” “Pelopia is not here,” answered Gideon Book. “But I have my answer.” “And?” The Word of Order brushed the button on his black desktop. The top dozen floors of Book Tower exploded in a roar of flame, sending debris high over Seattle, turning the whole evacuated building into a giant roman candle. The Doomherald landed steaming a quarter mile away. “So that’s a ‘No’, then?” he guessed. “You rang?” asked Flapjack, answering the door of the Lair Mansion. “Well, you rang and then dodged the shrapnel from the exploding doorbell?” “Yes,” said ManMan, brushing down his wrinkled and barely-fitting Elvis jumpsuit. He glanced at Knifey and then back to the hunchbacked major domo. “We’re here to join the Lair Legion. Sign us up.” Next Issue: The persecution continues, featuring special guest victims Meggan Fox, J. Jonah Jerkson, Bernice Teschmacher, Grace O’Mercy, Don Graham, Pelopia, and Exemplary’s special favourite Katarina Allan. Join the controversy with UT#260: Choose Your Next Words Very Carefully. Four Footnotes Good, Two Footnotes Better Jingo Belle (Army Captain Josephine Simon) is a patriotic marketing superheroine for the US armed forces. The Lynchpin of Crime (Harry Flask) was insulted by the Zoot Suit Gang in Adventures in Parodyverse: Act of Desperation – Part One by Jason, wherein tensions between Mangatown crimelord Akiko Masamune and the Lynchpin are deflected when the Zoot Suit Gang become involved. Gamona the assassin joined Frankie’s team in that episode. The Zoot Suit Gang is a large gang spread out across Gothametropolis York and Paradopolis. They are characterized by wearing white pinstriped suits and hats reminiscent of the ones popular in the 1940's, and carrying old Tommy guns. The gang was founded by a man named Frankie, who created the organisation for his, and its members, own amusement more than out of ambition - they spend most of their time making money to party and have fun. The Zoot Suit Gang's membership is rumoured to be in the hundreds, but no one has seem more than a few dozen at a time. Yuki Shiro often uses them as a resource to keep her pulse on the crime underworld. Splendiferous Stuart (and the Lynchpin’s alternate enforcer Kwatrain) are two of the former rulers of the brutal planet Apocalycpe, brought to Earth for punishment but drafted into government service. No More Mutates: Almost all the Parodyverse’s mutates recently lost their powers due to the actions of Pricilla DuBois, sister of De Brown Streak, whose final act was to use her powers to ensure “No more mutates”. Borovia is the European pocket kingdom of the megalomaniac Thighmaster. Spango is a mysterious republic that is assessed as a threat to US interests. Sybia is a middle-Eastern country recently occupied by US security forces. Candia is an alternate-reality version of Canada occupying a slightly different aspect of North America. Badripoor is a dissident Pacific basin city state currently run by President spiffy. Graf Werner von Herzhog is a powerful vampire who has formerly battled Sir Mumphrey Wilton and Asil Ashling. Belladonna Rouge is the pack-leader of the largest of the Werewolf Clans; this is the first we’ve heard of her. The Abyssal Luminosus is the brutal master of the Ghouls Under Chernobyl. Bogdan Vlastivock is the Necromancer General. The Picnic of Doom is a powerful and deadly psychic manifestation. The Globetrotting Gangbusters are a Book Industries-sponsored team of reformed villains operating as a planetary emergency response team. Most of them are against the idea of Obedience branding, but they have been betrayed by their team-mate Tubby Tachyon. Jet Starscream is leader of the Wonderful Seven, Goth Haven’s most prominent superheroes. He was last seen in the gossip columns attending a movie premiere with Samantha Bonnington, the Fashion Accessory. Giant Robot Six are a team of young people operating a multi-part transforming machine designed by their mentor Professor Tofu. Nobody has ever bothered to explain who the Belgian Waffle Five are. The Heckfire Club (The Knights of the Ancient and Antediluvian Order of Heckfire) are an association of power-brokers who have an alliance with the Parody Master. Missing Legionnaires: Messenger is currently suffering from depression and alcoholism and has disappeared. The Dark Knight is wanted for murder and may have gone insane. Lisa Waltz and Al B. Harper were last heard of by the Legion as captives of the Parody Master. Yo and the Librarian are in space, presumed missing and possibly dead. Fin Fang Foom and former SPUD Director Dan Drury were lost when the military base they were in was carved out of space by the Parody Master. Rikka Ulz Hagen is the world’s foremost specialist in artificial intelligences and how to break them. She and Hallie don’t love each other. Dr Valium recently worked behind the scenes when Visionary sought therapy from a disguised Mary Prankstar. ManMan (Joe Pepper) inherited Knifey his talking Knife from his dead father. Knifey gifts his owner with super-strong grip, but otherwise Joe just has the proportional powers of a man. In his previous time as a superhero ManMan wore a white Elvis jumpsuit as a costume, romanced Troia 215 and briefly accidentally married Dancer. After his long-time relationship with Stacy Gwen ended he became close to would-be supervillainess Alice White, the Widget. Their most recent appearance is reposted below, specially revised by ManMan’s poster for the occasion. The Word of Order (Gideon Book) is a current leader of the ancient Order or Order. Book’s dual identity is not publicly known. The Word is an acknowledged terrorist served by his daughter, Pelopia, Disciple of Logos. Gideon Book is a millionaire businessman philanthropist, sponsoring the Globetrotting Gangbusters, Hestia House girls’ development programme (where PsychoAcidPervGirl! Lives), and the research plant where Dreamcatcher Foxglove became CrazySugarFreakBoy! Limpqvist Lundqvist was formerly the Manager of ITC before its takeover as part of Baroness von Zemo’s holdings. Commissioner Don Graham runs the Paradopolis Police Department. His daughter Beth Shellett is romantically involved with Bry (Goldeneyed) Katz and rooms with Laurie (Lisette) Leyton. Anna Kensington, friend and former lover of CrazySugarFreakBoy! and current girlfriend of Kit Kipling (Captain Courageous). Citizen Z (Elizabeth von Zemo) was a spontaneous disguise for the Baroness when “the ZOXXON case” turned sour. One may therefore assume that the video tape and murder scene in Castle Zemo is not exactly what it appears to be. Silicone Sally is Elizabeth von Zemo’s right-hand minion. The Shaper of Worlds is one of the fundamental office-holders of cosmic power in the Parodyverse, the next rank up from offices like Keeper of the Chronometer of Infinity. Although Jury, the current Shaper, escaped the Parody Master, he did capture her stronghold and all its accoutrements. Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2006 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2006 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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