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Post By The Hooded Hood tries to prod the board to life with this merely double-sized chapter Mon Mar 20, 2006 at 06:09:14 pm EST |
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#264: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Bless This Mansion, or Houseguests | |
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#264: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Bless This Mansion, or Houseguests Previously: As the government’s attempts to force all superheroes to receive mind-controlling Obedience Brands through Special Resolution 1066, the Freedom and Patriot Act, continue, the Lair Legion finds itself increasingly besieged. Recent attacks on friends, family, and even enemies have led to the Lair Mansion becoming a refuge for many threatened metahumans and their relatives. A full list of those currently in the Mansion is presented below.Now new acting leader Hatman must deal with a number of crises, including the loss of former leader Sir Mumphrey Wilton, the capture or absence of a number of the team, new applications for membership, and the appointment of an acting deputy. Relevant tie-in stories preceding this chapter include: The Baroness – SR1066 Tie-in, Baroness #42, and Baroness #43, by JJJ Pregnant Pause, Part One and Part Two by Visionary. The Fremen and the Empress: Showdown on Arrakis by CSFB! Semi-Transparent Lad: The Calm Before the Storm, STL #12, STL #13, and STL #14, by L! The Tale of Magweed and Griffin by Visionary. 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.  Special Agent Finnigan accepted the flask coffee from his partner Agent Draper and turned back to his binoculars. “Is it working yet?” Draper asked. “Anything?” “Can’t tell,” Finnigan replied. “That Lair Mansion is shielded from all the usual intel gathering tech. We just have to wait and see.” Draper looked down at the sonic cannon pointed at the house on the island across the bay. The two agents on the Special Protocols Against Metahumans project were concealed in an office on the hundred and third floor of the Twin Parody Tower, and the non-lethal weapon they were using sent low-frequency sound waves across the distance and bombarded the target at exactly the wavelengths that provoked aggression and fear. The manufacturers had designed the device as a crowd control weapon, but it had recently become popular as a security feature on cruise liners who were tired of petty piracy. It had a range of just under two miles and at full power it could reduce anybody in a ten degree arc to nauseated helplessness. “I don’t see why we don’t just arrest them,” Draper argued. “We have the sheer force if we need it. Or just have a carrier group reduce that little island of their to rubble if they resist.” “Well technically they haven’t broken the law yet,” Finnegan pointed out. “Not in any way we can prove, not anything serious enough to stick. Not until the end of the month, when 1066 becomes law. After that, if they don’t register with the Freedom and Patriotism Act, don’t submit to Patriot Brands to control their actions, then we can nail their asses.” “And until then we hammer them with ULF until their ears bleed and they rip each other to pieces and don’t even know what’s happened.” “Right. You got more of that lousy coffee?” Then Mr Epitome and Glory, the mutt of might, crashed through the wall. “Excuse me,” he told the shocked, plaster-whitened special agents. “The neighbours have come to complain about the noise.” Draper fumbled for his sidearm but Epitome blurred over to him and crushed it in less than a second. Then he crushed three hundred thousand dollarsworth of sonic projector. “You can’t do that!” objected Agent Finnegan. “The evidence suggests otherwise,” the man of might pointed out. “And I suggest that you stop these trivial harassments before one of your clumsy attempts at intimidation makes the national media. I don’t like my country being embarrassed.” He glared at the two agents. “Go home.” Finnegan and Draper scrambled out of the room as he took a half step towards them, then fled. “Did they really think we couldn’t hear their annoying whiny weapon?” Glory signalled in her combination of sounds and movements. “Evidently,” Epitome replied. “Did they really think it would take sonic bombardment to reduce the Lair Mansion to chaos and violence right now?” The chaos and violence was having breakfast in the Lair Kitchen. “Put the pickles down,” Dancer warned, “and back away.” “There was no label on them,” complained Gamona, her hands around Donar’s throat as his were about hers. “I already offered to categorise which foodstuffs were reserved for which personnel,” Pelopia of Order pointed out primly, watching the confrontation while eating her dry, crustless toast. “Tis mine pickles by right of conquest,” complained the hemigod of thunder. “The fridge is kind of crowded just now,” ManMan suggested reasonably. “It’s a mistake anyone could make.” “Yeah,” agreed Knifey. “And it’s not like Joe’s not doing his best to sort out your fridge overcrowding problem.” “We don’t need any help,” Flapjack snapped, his fingers automatically reaching for the bacon slicer. “We got it all under control, Pepper.” “I don’t see why all these people have to crowd into the Lair Mansion,” Princess Uhunalura of the Abhumans complained, failing to find a seat at the breakfast table. She glared at Citizen Z. “We have a perfectly good alien zoo.” “Still, the bedroom sharing thing won’t be bothering you, right?” answered the masked vigilante. “Perhaps Pelopia could help you with a rota there, too?” “Hold it right there!” interrupted Visionary, entering the crowded Lair Kitchen and pointing to the Donar/Gamona tableau. “I commander those pickles in the name of the Lair Legion.” “Is he authorised to commandeer pickles?” Ham-Boy asked the Juniors. “Feeboid isn’t authorised to hold a front door key,” Kerry answered. “Didn’t he used to lead the Lair Legion?” Captain Courageous checked as he ate his bran. “Records can be changed,” Fashion Accessory speculated. “Faked, is the word you’re looking for,” Kerry explained helpfully. “Mine father wilt not surrender yon pickles of victory,” Harlagaz declared confidently. “Yea verily, the heavens will crack with vengeance should yon pickles be stolen from his rightful grasp!” “Actually, I think they’re my pickles,” Cody Harper pointed out. “But I’ll donate them if I get to watch a deity and a naked green alien killer chick wrestling.” “Do you guys mind keeping the pickle wars down?” CrazySugarFreakBoy! complained crossly, heading into the room with an armful of empty milk bottles. “Mom and April just got Oliver and Iris to sleep. Last thing we need is more explosions and stuff waking them after such a cranky night.” “If you prefer, I could absorb the pickles and secrete a nutritive gel for your consumption,” offered the Manga Shoggoth. “Uh, no, that’s okay,” Vizh said hastily. “Really. But Hallie’s got pickles on her latest insane-pregnant-woman-fad list, so I’m going to need that jar there.” He looked worriedly at the walls. “She is still so tied up gestating the baby that she can’t monitor us, right?” “Yes,” agreed Ohanna of Raael. “That is why she instructed us to report events to her so that she is not completely isolated in her confinement.” “It’s nice to see that Vizh has been keeping up with his coffee-spraying practise,” Tiffany noted as the possibly-fake man sprayed his beverage across the crowded kitchen. “There we are then, folks,” Dancer said determinedly. “Hand over the pickles for the virtually pregnant hologram grumping about our basements please.” “There is some marmalade if you would care to contest over that,” offered Prince Kiivan, Emir of All Caph. “Or I could get some body lotion,” Flapjack offered. “This is a very unusual breakfast,” admitted Katarina Allen. “Welcome to the Lair Mansion,” Dancer told her. “Muffin?” “Sit down,” Hatman told Joe Pepper, “and tell me why you want the job.” “Well, I’d be pretty good at it,” ManMan said. “I’ve had lots of experience. And that problem with Mrs Kzjowski’s shower wasn’t my fault at all. Besides, the fire brigade cut her free in under two hours.” “I think he meant working with the Lair Legion,” Knifey, ManMan’s talking knife, clarified. “You know, as a member.” “Ah, right,” Manny winced. “Although I’d make a pretty righteous janitor here as well.” “We offered you membership before, back during the World Tour,” Hatman prompted. “You turned us down. What’s changed?” “Well, he’s put on about fifteen pounds,” Knifey chuckled. “The world has changed,” ManMan answered. “My aunt got a visit from some government goon that sounds a lot like that Exemplary bastard that tortured me before. The one the Shoggoth almost got.” “You’re being threatened?” Hatty said. “They want Knifey,” Joe explained. “They clearly don’t know how irritating he can be.” “Hey, I’m right here!” complained the sentient blade. “My aunt was hospitalised. My girlfriend accepted a Patriot Brand. They threatened to go after everyone else I care about,” ManMan went on; and suddenly the genial burger-guzzling everyman was replaced by the warrior who had killed demon lords and faced down Dark Thugos. “So now I have to stand up and be counted,” he concluded. Hatman grinned. “Yeah,” he agreed. “You get it. Not many people do, but you get why we’re here. Welcome to the Lair Legion.” “That’s it?” Manny blinked. “I don’t have to go bring in the Yurt or anything?” “Well, when Lisa gets back you might have to survive an induction,” Hatty warned. “And there’s a probationary period. But I never doubted you’d make a great Legionnaire.” He looked down at the gleaming weapon at Joe’s side. “What about you, Knifey? It’d be great to have you on the roster as well.” “Ack, no!” replied the knife. “I’ve spent centuries going around with distracting humans so I can keep out of the spotlight. I’m not about to blow my cover now.” “You were one of the League of Improbable Gentleman back in the 1900s,” Hatman argued. “No. You can check the records. Blanchford was the member. I was the erudite, witty, stylishly mysterious companion weapon. Believe me, it works better that way.” “Well, if you’re sure,” Hatman conceded. “Get into costume, ManMan. When Yuki’s back I’ll get her to give you your orientation and physical assessment down in the Lair Gym. Say in twenty minutes?” “Er, okay,” Joe Pepper winced. “But I might have to borrow a needle and some cotton first.” The garage doors automatically opened then hesitated as the sensors picked up that the sky-cycle heading for the hangar bay was on fire. They decided there was a probable threat incoming and began to close again, forcing Yuki to twist the vehicle diagonally to make it through the narrowing gap. The front fork buckled and the nose of the vehicle continued in one direction while the cyborg P.I, and the rest of it slid along the floor. The hangar defence computer responded by spraying the whole area with airline-standard flame-retardant crash foam. “Whooooo-eeeeeeee!” shrieked Yuki Shiro as she skidded to a halt against the opposite wall. She still had the handlebars of her vehicle in her hands. Donar, Visionary, and Dancer hurried down to check out the latest emergency. “It’s not an emergency,” Dancer realised. “Yuki just decided to redecorate the Lair Garage. Again.” The cyborg pulled herself out of the wreckage and flicked foam off her jacket. “I’m going to have to wash my hair again,” she realised. The Manga Shoggoth bubbled up out of the thick emergency foam. “Ack!” winced Vizh. “And maybe we’ll need to change our pants.” Donar looked at the pieces of sky-cycle with a speculative air. “Nobody didst tell me that yon devices couldst be pulled apart so entertainingly,” he mused. “Tell the Hat-guy I’m sorry about the cycle,” Yuki shrugged, unconcerned about the mess and damage. “I got a hot tip and I decided it was time to come home. Some guy in a ren-fest outfit seemed to feel differently.” “Kwatrain?” Dancer frowned. “We heard he was enforcing for the Lynchpin now Gamona’s left.” “I guess. I don’t think Tubby liked me prying around about the stuff that’s happening in the criminal hierarchies. Power shifts, changes.” “Wilt we need to change the smiting order then?” asked Donar. “Short version,” briefed Yuki, “The Lynchpin’s now got unofficial access to the SR1066 Obedience Branded criminals that were previously incarcerated in the Safe. He might have an in to other 1066 elements, like the Sentinoid programme.” “That can’t be good,” Vizh noted. “Not so much. And now he’s throwing his weight around. He went after the Zoot Suit Gang. He’s taken down the Tibetan Mafia. He’s consolidated his grip on Gothametropolis tighter than it ever was, and now he’s looking at Paradopolis.” “How did you find this out?” Dancer wondered. “Zoot Suit Frankie was plenty miffed,” Yuki explained. “Things aren’t finished there. But it’s looking like the next Lynchpin clash might be with the Yakusa, and Akiko Masamune. I think fat boy’s gonna want to renegotiate the deal between them with him on the top.” “Eew,” winced Dancer. “I wouldn’t want Harry Flask on top of me. Akiko’s not going to like that.” Visionary nodded. He was wondering now about that small carved oriental stick he’s received this morning. He’d thought it was a late birthday present. “I… don’t suppose the Yakusa call in old favours by sending people carved sticks, do they?” he ventured miserably. “Prepare me a copy of yon revised whomping list and I shalt see to it after luncheon,” Donar instructed. “Mayhap I shalt borrow one of these disposable sky-cycles and go for a trip out for the nonce.” “The diabolical Dr Moo,” Citizen Z noted, finding Daio Waltz lurking around on the attic landing of the Lair Mansion. “I hear you used to be quite the major villain back in your day.” “Back in my day?” the cow-masked mad scientist repeated. “Well, at least people have heard of me. It must be because I’ve achieved something.” “Really? What? A few bovine-themed death traps and the odd mutated cow? With the kind of scientific abilities you have, properly applied, you could be ruling the world by now.” “And why on earth would I want to do that? Tedious decision-making, no personal time, and I can already get anything I want without having to go to such absurd extremes.” Moo shook her head. “I could never understand why people like Zemo and the Hooded Hood spent so much time wanting it.” Citizen Z looked up. “Yes. You worked with Heinrich Zemo, didn’t you? In his Scourge of the BZL.” “I consulted for him on occasion,” Daio Waltz shrugged. “I’ve studied the von Zemo family. Baroness Zemo is a special project of mine,” Citizen Z explained. “Didn’t the Baron used to have some kind of top secret laboratory hidden from the Lair Legion right here in their own mansion, back in the very early days?” “I have no idea,” Moo replied. “Heinrich was always coming up with some Byzantine overcomplicated scheme or another. It was hard to keep track.” “In the attics, I heard,” Z continued. She looked around her. “What are you doing up here, by the way? I thought you’d be monitoring Hallie’s pregnancy or something.” “Looking for Davidowicz,” Dr Moo answered casually. “My rat.” “Last I saw she was in the Lair Library playing poker with Fleabot, Glory, and that Tiffany woman.” She pointed downstairs. “The library’s that way.” “Yes,” agreed Moo. “Why are you up here, as a matter of interest?” “Oh, you know, just trying to get away from the crowd. There’s only so much Caphan babble about make-up tips that I can stand. They’ve cornered that Katarina woman and they’re giving her a makeover. That’s all.” “I see.” “Good.” “Yes.” The two women settled, casually leaning on the balcony rail at opposite sides of the gallery, just waiting around for no special reason at all. “I can understand you wanting protection after your father was murdered, Pelopia,” Hatman told the bald, white-robed woman who sat to attention across the desk from him, “but I don’t see why you want to be a member of the Lair Legion.” “I bring a good deal of expertise and ability to your ranks,” Pelopia explained. “Additionally, I can help you bring Order to this fighting force, and forge it into a tool which you can use to manifest your destiny as wielder of the Serious Matter, the champion of Order.” Jay Boaz sighed. “I’m not going to use the LL to become the next Word of Logos or whatever. Anyhow, I’m only acting leader. I’m still hoping Sir Mumphrey will come back somehow. Or Finny. But probably not Vizh.” “You need not fear being usurped,” Pelopia assured the capped crusader. “I am adept at bringing about the downfall of enemies in such a way that nothing is ever traced. Merely tell me which of the team you need eliminated and I will see to it.” “Pelopia, we’re not that kind of team. I may want to kill some of my colleagues sometimes but I’ll give my life before I see any one of them harmed.” “That does not make sense,” objected the disciple of Logos. “It does to me,” Hatman told her. “The Legion stands for something, and that’s why I can’t accept you as a member, I’m afraid. You and baby Iris are welcome to stay here while this crisis is on and then we’ll find somewhere safe for you to go, but…” And then the study door slammed open, rattling on its hinges. “What?” Hatman has time to say before a seething-mad CrazySugarFreakBoy! bounded onto his desk and took him by the collar. “How could you do it?” he demanded. “How? Why?” “Er…” Jay responded. “Could you give me a clue what you’re talking about? I can’t let Pelopia into the Legion just because she’s your…” “This isn’t about Pelopia!” CSFB! cried, throwing his hands in the air in despair. “Of course she can’t join the Legion. No offence Pelopia, and I’m not bearing a grudge about you hospitalising me and breaking my heart or anything because now I’ve found April Alice Apple and life is wonderful like one of those long romantic montage sequences in sloppy 70s movies, but you’re just not cut out for the Legion gig, it’s a hero thing, but the best way I can explain it is…” “Dream,” Hatman interrupted. “What is it about?” “Oh.” The wired wonder took a moment to flit back to his previous fury. “Oh yeah! It’s about Epitome! Epitome! Why on Earth would you trust that fascist knuckle-dragging traitorous machiavellian Neanderthal? Why?” “He seems like a formidable ally to me,” noted Pelopia. “Not when he’s one friendly fire incident off being leader of the LL he isn’t,” snorted Dream. “Why Jay? I thought you were my friend! Why are you making that right-wing doucebag deputy-leader of the Lair Legion?” Hatman blinked. “I’m not.” “I mean, I could understand you going for Dancer, maybe even Tricky if you wanted to shake things up a bit. Sure, I’d have liked a shot at the job after all my work with the Goofball Gauntlet and the Globetrotting Gangbusters, and what with us being the PV Barry Allen and Hal Jordan and stuff, but I respect that it’s your call and you get to…” CSFB! paused. “Did you just say you’re not making Epitome deputy?” “That’s right. Why would I do that? I asked Dancer actually, but she said no then had an emergency shoe-shopping mission that meant she had to leave right away. What made you think it was going to be Epitome as acting deputy till Yo gets back?” “Asil,” Dream said. “She got it from Odoona who got it from Ohanna who got it from Kiivan who heard from Harlagaz who found out from Citizen Z…” “Well all of them got it wrong,” Jay told the wired wonder. “I’d only consider Epitome if my best friend wasn’t available.” A slow grin blossomed over CSFB!’s face as he worked that one out. “Really? Best friend?” “But if you start unilaterally declaring jihads on the government I’ll sack you and hire Clancy in a minute.” Kat Allen had found the picture window at the end of the landing. It had a great view out over the bay towards the Paradopolis skyline. She’d folded herself onto the ledge and was watching the rain trickle down the panes. “Hey,” Uhunalura of the Abhumans said as she turned the corner. “That’s my lonely staring place!” Katarina jumped up. “Sorry, your highness! I didn’t mean to…” “Hey, no. It’s okay. I was kidding. Anybody can sit there and be lonely and stare. It’s not reserved.” Uhuna pushed the young weaver back onto the ledge. “And nobody here calls me your highness. I’m technically not an Abhuman princess any more. I got sacked. For fraternising with humans.” Something in the red-headed healer’s inflection told Kat that fraternising was a euphemism. “Oh, right. Still, I didn’t mean to take your spot.” Another realisation flashed upon her. “You’re lonely?” Uhuna blushed and looked away. “Of course not. I have my college course and my work with the people in the sick bay here. And Secret Hospital, of course, every afternoon.” “I’m lonely,” Kat confessed. “I know I have to be here, to keep me safe from people who might want to get at me to get at Dom, but I’d prefer to be back in my shop, weaving. I was just getting going.” “I know it’s hard,” the Abhuman agreed. “To leave behind everything you know and come and live with strangers. Welcome to the Lair Legion girlfriends club.” “I’m not a Lair Legion girlfriend,” Katarina Allen objected. “I haven’t even dated Dominic except… well, twice I suppose. I don’t know what I am. Is there a club for Lair Legion not-exactly-girlfriends-but-in-some-kind-of-undefined-awkward-potential-situation?” “You could start one.” Kat smiled ruefully. “What about you, then?” she questioned. “Which Legionnaire gets you in the girlfriend club?” Uhuna blushed slightly. “Well, Nats at first. Then De Brown Streak,” she explained. “Wow. You really wanted membership.” “But both of them are gone now,” Uhuna said; and her voice betrayed a bleakness she’d not wanted to betray. “I see,” said Kat; and she did. “My people are gone too,” the ex-princess added. “The Abhumans have retreated behind a Barrier of Negativity while the threat of the Parody Master exists. There’s only me and Suresnout now.” “Suresnout?” “My war pig.” “Of course. Because every girl needs a war pig.” Kat shifted across to make space on the ledge. “You know there’s room for two people to sit and stare at the rain on this sill.” Uhuna looked uncertain. “Everybody thinks I’m a shallow sex-crazed bimbo,” she said. “Everybody thinks I’m a vulnerable victim supporting cast member.” The two of them settled on opposite sides of the windowsill and watched the rivulets trickle down the glass. “It occurs to me,” said Kat, “that when two people sit here staring out of the window, it doesn’t have to be lonely.” Ebony of Nubilia found the Caphans down in the Lair Gym, where the duel was taking place. “What’s this?” she asked as she saw the fight going on. “It’s a combat practise,” Ohanna explained. “Gamona the Assassin is testing Prince Kiivan.” Ebony glanced at the combat, where the Emir of All Caph, stripped to the waist, was finding off the green-tattooed alien warrior with his sword. “Gamona doesn’t have a weapon,” Ebony pointed out. “Gamona is the weapon,” Ohanna replied. “She’s very good. Kiivan’s going to go down.” “But very stylishly,” Kaara of Jaaxa allowed. “Vaahir has taught him very well.” Ebony could see that Kiivan was on the defensive now. Gamona didn’t seem to have even worked up a sweat. “And the Emir of Caph is alright about being beaten by a green-skinned woman?” “Well, it hurt his pride at first,” Ohanna admitted, “but after a while he got used to it.” And she smirked. Gamona knocked aside the plas gar blade and caught the prince in an unbreakable neck-hold. “From here I can snap your neck,” she noted. “Yes. I yield. A good combat, Gamona. Thank you.” Gamona dropped Kiivan on the mat. “Thank you all for working out with me,” she told the Caphans. “Some of you have the makings of good fighters, and your Emir has much potential.” “We like to think so,” agreed Ohanna. “But I like to see him get beaten to a pulp every so often, to keep his ego in check.” “Hey!” objected Kiivan. “When are you supposed to be completing your obedience training?” “I did,” Ohanna replied. “Losiira certified me yesterday. This is the obedient me.” The Emir blinked. “You’ve been taking lessons from the slav… from the women here? All the lessons?” “She did very well,” Sayaana assured him. “It is a shame there was no official matron here to log her achievements. Her value would be astronomical.” “I’m fully certified now, except for the malindi koor and of course my t’looris night,” Ohanna told the prince proudly. “I’m growing up.” “Yes.” Kiivan seemed disconcerted by the idea. He turned away and picked up a towel. “Well, I think I’ll get a shower. No, it’s fine ladies. I’ll get a shower alone, thanks.” “But you will not forget the terms of our wager?” Gamona asked him. “Of course not,” the prince assured her. “It will be done.” Ebony turned to Ohanna curiously. “Wager?” “Kiivan has agreed to introduce the Lady Gamona to our sponsor,” the Caphan fugitive explained. “She wants to meet the Hooded Hood.” “What’s this? What’s he doing here?” Kerry demanded, trying to back out of the room but finding Fashion Accessory and Glitch blocking the doorway. “I invited him,” Cody Harper admitted. “He’s interested in LL history, and today CSFB! is going over the Coming of Galactivac. Should be interesting stuff. Is there a problem?” The young man quickly picked up his steaming lunchbox and dropped it into a metal trash can. “I’ll take it that’s a yes, then.” “No problem,” said Kerry Shepherdson through gritted teeth. “I was just surprised to find Danny Lyle in the room, that’s all.” “Not that you haven’t been moping about him ever since you two split up.” FA pointed out. “We didn’t split up. I dumped him. And I have in no way been moping,” Kerry argued. “I am a mope-free zone.” “You did make those gas canisters explode out so the spilled fuel spelled out DIE DANNY DIE!,” pointed out Glitch. “Coincidence. I’m fine. I’m cool.” Glitch checked the tectonic activity sensors for any local volcanic activity to be sure. “If you’re okay, then let’s go over and talk to him,” Fashion Accessory suggested. Kerry shot her a venomous glance and allowed herself to be chivvied to where Danny was chatting with Harlgaz and Kit Kipling. “And wast yon wench hale and safe whenst thou didn’t complete thine quest?” Gaz asked the clean-cut young Englishman in the blazer and tie. “Anna was alright,” Captain Courageous reported. “She’d had a bad scare, of course, when the intruders came for her at her uncle’s house. She’d used some experimental armour she’d been tinkering with to escape, then she’d gone to ground.” “Didn’t she want to come back to the safety of the Addams Family mansion?” Danny asked. Kerry’s stomach did a flip-flop as he spoke. Kit shook his head. “No. She was pretty suspicious of everybody. Even me. I didn’t want to force her to come back here. She’s headed off to meet… well, to be with some people she knows. I just needed to check that she was okay.” “And she hadn’t been Branded?” Cody checked. “Se said not,” Captain Courageous answered. A flicker of doubt crossed his face. “But if she had been then she wouldn’t…” “Relax, mate,” Danny Lyle told him. “If she’d been got by the bogiemen then she’d have come back to the Mansion with you. The government would love to have another informer inside this place right now. She’s fine.” Harlagaz looked over Danny’s shoulder then stepped back theatrically, hands up. “Oh look. By some coincidence here art the others coming to join us, including the Lady Kerry.” Danny glanced over his shoulder and swallowed a curse word. “Sorry to break up the party,” Cody called, “But remember how some of you folks promised to help me get my locker unjammed? I could use some help right now.” “Oh yes, sorry,” said Fashion Accessory. “We’re coming.” “Sorry, yes,” Glitch added. “Sudden locker emergency. You know how it is.” “We needs must help our boon comrade open his lockereth,” agreed Harlagaz. “Or die trying.” And FA, Glitch, Gaz, and Kit hurried out to help Cody. Danny looked around the deserted classroom. Only he and Kerry remained. “Well that was subtle,” he mentioned. “Wait till they manage to get that locker open,” Kerry promised wrathfully. Danny seemed very interested by the blackboard. He was staring at it. “So how have you been, Fi… Kerry?” “Absolutely fine.” “Good.” “You?” “The same. No problem.” There was a long, uncomfortable pause, punctuated only by an explosion from the locker room and the sound of hasty fire suppression systems. Danny and Kerry’s eyes happened to meet. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help your friend,” Danny said at last. “I’m sorry I blamed you for not being able to,” Kerry replied. “But you took it harder than me.” “I hate failing. Especially when it matters.” Kerry snorted. “You said you were going to love me forever,” she reminded him. “You failed at that.” “No,” Danny told her seriously. “I really didn’t.” Kerry eyed him suspiciously. “What’s that mean, then?” “I hate failing. I’m not going to fail at that. It means I still love you.” “Oh.” “Yeah.” “So… what does that mean, then?” “What do you want it to mean?” Fashion Accessory stuck her head round the door. “Could you two guys get to the kissing stage quickly please, only we’re going to need the fire buckets from the classroom in the next couple of minutes. Thanks.” “I shouldn’t have to do this stuff,” Miss Framlicker complained as she dragged the dimensional transfer coil over to the booster modulator. She and Amy Aston were once again trying to locate the missing Legionnaires (Lisa, Al B. Harper, Yo, the Librarian, and now Trickshot), this time by hooking the Lair Mansion database into the warp harmonic sensor array. The practical upshot of it was that the two women were setting up heavy equipment in the hall of the Lair Mansion. “Who’d have thought Nats was so useful,” agreed Amy. “Annoying, but useful.” Transplanar rift separators were so much easier to move with telekinesis. “We don’t talk about Nats,” snapped Miss F. Her last meeting with him had not been pleasant. “We could get some help from all the super-strong superheroes here in the Mansion,” Amy suggested. “No. We’re not insured unless it’s an employee doing to lifting. And if I have to pay those rates to insure this equipment I’m damn well going to have staff lugging it about.” “I could give Big Thick Eddie a call, see if he can help us shift some of the gear from the firehouse?” “No,” Miss Framlicker said firmly. “We do not let Big Thick Eddie anywhere near valuable, droppable components ever again. I’m writing that into everybody’s contracts of employment.” “Well we need somebody dumb and gullible to do the hard stuff round here,” complained Amy. “Ever since Ham-Boy quit we’ve been not been working on all cylinders. We need Al for the geeky brain stuff, me for the greasy hands-on engineering stuff, you for the bitchy management stuff…” “Hey!” “Just saying. And we need some poor brain-dead victim to be delivery boy and general gopher, all at minimum wage.” “I agree,” Miss Framlicker assured her. “About the new staff member, I mean, not the other stuff. But where are we going to find a sucker who’ll take the job?” Joe Pepper wandered across the hall, sucking his hand where he’d pricked it while sewing his pants. “Real heroes don’t stick darning needles into their thumbs,” noted Knifey. “It’s not my fault,” Manny denied. “It ricocheted off a rhinestone.” Amy and Miss F exchanged glances. “Oh ManMan,” called Amy. “Did I ever tell you what a huge fan I am of yours?” “And do you have a pen on you?” asked Miss Framlicker. “For signing things?” “Actually, what I said to Harlagaz was in confidence, and couched merely as speculation,” Citizen Z told Hatman. “I’ve clearly underestimated the gossip capacity of the Lair Mansion again.” “Again?” Jay Boaz asked. “No matter,” the woman in the black and purple all-over bodysuit told him. “You were just explaining to me why you couldn’t induct me into the Lair Legion.” “Yes. Well, it’s nothing personal, er, Z. You worked out pretty well on that case where we took on ZOXXON and Baroness Zemo. But right now I can’t afford to have anybody on the team I don’t know and trust.” “Everyone in the mansion has been examined by the Shoggoth to check they’ve not been Obedience Branded,” Citizen Z pointed out. “And you’ve had members before who have kept their identities hidden. Dancer, for one.” “This is just a very difficult time,” Hatman told her. “I’m sorry. Of course, you’re welcome to stay and weather out this political storm…” “Okay,” Z interrupted. “You have a good point, about the trust thing. I can see that. So I’ll make you a deal. I’ll unmask, right here, right now. But only in front of you. You can take some of my hair for DNA analysis to prove I’m not a robot or a shapeshifter or something. But you must promise to do the tests yourself, using some hat-given expertise or other, and not to make any record of my identity or tell any other person.” Hatman considered this. “I’ll guarantee your anonymity, of course, but I can’t promise to let you into the Legion just because you’ve shown me your face.” “I know that,” Z told him. “But I’m hoping that once you’ve seen who I am you’ll decide I’m somebody you can trust.” And she peeled off her mask. “Ah,” said Hatman. “Yes,” said Citizen Z. “I wanted to make a fresh start, without any of the baggage of the past. To fulfil my potential.” “You told us before that Elizabeth Zemo had murdered your parents, but…” “My real parents, not the people who brought me up,” Z explained. “That’s who she killed. I don’t really want to talk about that. Just tell me, Jay, whether you think I’ve got what it takes to be in the Lair Legion.” “Well, I guess you do,” Hatman admitted, holding out his hand. “I’d never have guessed it was you behind the mask, but since it is… welcome to the Lair Legion, Citizen Z!” Hallie looked up from her magazine as someone entered the holosuite that had been decked out for her during her surrogate pregnancy. “Miiri!” she recognised. “I didn’t know you were out of the hospital yet!” “Don’t get up,” the Caphan woman cautioned. Miiri was the biological mother of the foetus that had been transferred to the computer AI for medical reasons. “I wasn’t due to leave for another week or two, but given the dangers of being in a public hospital the Lair Legion decided it was best if I came and stayed in the sanatorium here.” Hallie moved up to make room for Miiri on the virtual sofa. “I hear it’s getting pretty nasty out there. I really miss the internet.” “It is troubling that our child will be born into such turbulent times,” Miiri agreed. “Is she… alright?” Hallie hesitated before answering. “She’s doing fine. The same treatments that are sorting out the damage that curse did to your cellular structure are working on hers too. It’s just that she needs to go at a different pace to you.” “The Shoggoth and Visionary are still trying to find out more about the death-curse that was set upon me,” the Caphan shuddered. “Nobody has ever tried to kill me before. Well, not me specifically.” “It might not be you they were after,” Hallie warned. “Vizh has enemies too, and some of them are pretty nasty. They might have been after his child.” Miiri looked worried. “Our daughter will be born into a dangerous House. We must strive to prepare her for the things that she may have to face. I shall teach her the eleven techniques of knife-fighting, of course. You will teach her the mysteries of the ATM, yes?” “I imagine between us we’ll be able to offer her a pretty comprehensive education,” agreed the artificial intelligence. “If...” No, there was no point in worrying Miiri yet about the recovery probabilities or the foetal abnormalities. Miiri has suffered enough for now. “You know, we can’t keep just calling her ‘the child’. How do Caphans get named, anyhow? Is it a Master thing again, because if so then I’m going to have to kick Visionary for being a male oppressor of all womankind.” “A slave’s owner will select the name of a child if it is a boy, of course,” Miiri supplied, “but the naming of girl-children, that is a female mystery. It is a thing for her mother.” She glanced up at Hallie. “Mothers.” “So what did you have in mind?” Miiri paused and blushed a little greener. “Well, there was one name I liked,” she admitted. “A Caphan name.” “Well?” prompted Hallie. “Can you tell me?” “I would like to call her Naari, please.” Hallie tried it out on her virtual tongue. “Naari sounds nice. I think this baby might be a Naari.” The Caphan woman sighed in relief. “Thank you. In my language all our names have meaning. For example, Miiri means ‘eager and adept at all pleasures’.” Hallie was suspicious again. “What does Naari mean?” Mirri looked up at her with moist eyes. “It means ‘most beloved in all the world’,” she answered. Hallie and Miiri chatted for another ten minutes, but the recovering Caphan tired easily and Uhuna arrived to shepherd her to an afternoon nap. Hallie returned to her magazine and tried to read, but the visit had disturbed her. “Naari,” she said. She disabled the hologram transmitters around her midriff so she could look again at the tiny baby in her virtual womb. The gene restoration therapy was working, but not fast enough. The child weighed less than four pounds, and the left half of her body was withered and scarred by whatever had attacked her before she was even birthed. Such a tiny, tenuous hold on life she had; such a slender chance. “Come on Naari,” Hallie whispered to her. “Beat the odds. It’s a mad, dangerous life waiting for you, but it can be a wonderful adventure too. Stay with us, most beloved in all the world.” “You know fingers are really useful,” Tiffany admitted. “For turning over playing cards, I mean.” “Meh. Overrated,” said Davidowicz. “I think the dog is bluffing. I’ll see your ten and raise you another ten.” “I’m out,” Fleabot declared. “I have no idea why we’re playing for toffees anyway. I can’t even eat toffees.” “It’s not the toffees, it’s the total conquest of your enemies, my boss says,” Dr Moo’s lab rat shared. “Come on, puppy, let’s see what you’ve got that can beat Queens over Eights.” “Four threes,” Glory yipped apologetically. “I think all the toffees are mine.” “It’s that fuzzy innocent face,” Fleabot complained. “She does it every time.” “My friend Mr Epitome says it’s not beating the enemy that matters,” Glory assured them, “It’s achieving your goals.” “And what are your goals, I wonder,” Tiffany speculated, looking at the super-powered Border collie speculatively. The transformed Raven of Destiny was about to probe further when the mansion alarms started ringing. “What’s that?” “Dimensional incursion in our airspace,” the mutt of might barked. “Get to the safe rooms. I have to go. This could be the Parody Master attacking!” The Galactibus tore through into the prime dimension just as the planar-jump core gave up the ghost and shorted the primary power couplings. Lee Bookman found himself piloting a brick. Again. “Liu Xi?” he called out urgently. “A little help, please?” “She’ll be right with you after she’s finished passing out,” Lisa called back. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.” “Good,” Al B. answered. “Because we appear to be plummeting towards the ground at what is called terminal velocity for a really good reason.” The first lady of the Lair Legion remained unruffled. She pointed at the rocky spur in front of them. “I summons the Manga Shoggoth! The Galactibus hit ground with a gelid squelch then oozed to a stop a hundred yards across Parody Island. “I was just watching Spirited Away” complained the hastily summonses smeared elder being spread out across the landing site. “Welcome back!” Hatman called to the returning Legionnaires and their companions. “We were getting worried.” “None of them have been Branded,” reported the Shoggoth. “They all appear to be brief and mortal. Well, except Yo.” “Good to be back,” Al B. admitted. “I’ve missed my lab.” “And we have some exciting news for you,” smirked Miss Framlicker. “I look forward to seeing your laboratory, Al B. Harper,” the catsuited woman next to the archscientist announced. Miss F looked over at the blonde beauty. “And you would be…?” “I am Kinki the Conqueress,” announced the woman. “I am Al’s lover.” “His what?” demanded Yuki. “Oh yeah,” Trickshot grinned at the Contessa as events unfolded. “This is the stuff I’ve missed.” It had been a very long day. Visionary retreated to his Lighthouse before the tide went out and it was no longer on Parody Island. He needed a coffee, a shower, and preferably one of the pastries on Dancer’s category-A death list. The lighthouse was quiet compared to the current chaos of the Mansion. Hacker Nine was still out, presumably learning to be an even more dangerous annoying menace with the Hooded Hood. Fleabot would doubtless still be pouring oil on the emotional bonfires over at the main house. Asil was off somewhere talking with George Gedney. Kerry had gone to bed early, with a big sign on her door saying DO NOT DISTURB FOR ANY REASON, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE FAKE! Visionary had added “I’m real, dammit!” to the bottom of the notice and had shuffled on to the bathroom, making mental note to have a word with Kerry in the morning about using her bed as a trampoline. “It’s not a toy,” he muttered. The shower was great. For once his bathroom was in the proper place, there was enough hot water, and no member of the Juniors or random Caphan walked in to tell him the latest problem or to offer him embarrassing personal services. No Doom Gerbil attacked. Then there was a hammering on the lighthouse door. A loud, persistent hammering. Visionary said a rude word, wrapped a towel round himself, and went to see what had happened now. He opened the door and looked out. “Down here,” a voice said. Visionary looked down. Standing on his doorstep was an elf. An elf with a gun. BLAM! Coming Next: Mumphrey’s gone, so the next targets are Hatman, Dancer, CrazySugarFreakBoy!… and the Hooded Hood! The registration deadline is coming up fast and the Lair Legion must decide where they stand – with the law or outside it. Watch for UT#265: Special Protocols and Extreme Measures. A Quick Guide to the Residents and Visitors at the Lair Mansion in this Chapter: Legionnaires Present: Hatman (Jay Boaz), acting leader, the capped crusader CrazySugarFreakBoy (Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove), the wired wonder Donar, Hemigod of Thunder Visionary, possibly-fake man The Probability Dancer (Sarah Shepherdson) Mister Epitome (Dominic Clancy), the man of might, paragon of power etc. The Manga Shoggoth Yuki Shiro, cyborg private investigator Support Staff: Flapjack of the Carpathians, hunchbacked butler and major-domo Hallie, artificial intelligence Asil Ashling, administrator The Junior Lair Legion Training Programme: Glory, the mutt of might, teaching assistant Kerry Shepherdson, the probability arsonist Harlagaz Donarson, demihemigod of thunder Fashion Accessory (Samantha Bonnington), the catwalk crimefighter Guests and Visitors: ManMan (Joe Pepper) and his talking knife, Knifey The diabolical Dr Moo (Daio Waltz), and Davidowicz, her talking lab rat Citizen Z  , vigilante crimefighterPelopia, disciple of order, daughter of the villainous Word of Logos Gamona the Assassin, alien killing machine Prince Kiivan, Emir of All Caph Lady Ohanna, his companion Nine other Caphan ex-slaves, Deeela, Sayaana, Philaana, Noona, Miiri, Odoona, Losiira, Luuma, and Kaara; of whom Miiri is soon to be a mother Meggan Foxxx, CSFB!’s mother, and her baby Oliver April Alice Apple, comic-book writer, CSFB!’s girlfriend Katarina Allen, weaver, Epitome’s friend Ebony of Nubilia, priestess of the Shoggoth Cult Zack Zelnitz (Hacker Nine), apprenticed to the Hooded Hood Ham-Boy (Fred Harris), the world’s meatiest hero Cody Harper, son of Al B. Harper Glitch, a girl autobot Denial (Danny Lyle), a rebel without a cause Captain Courageous (Kit Kipling), clean-cut hero in training Fleabot, a micro-robot Quoth (Tiffany), a raven of destiny Miss Framlicker, CEO of Extraordinary Endeavour Enterprises (EEE) Amy Aston, engineer at EEE 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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