#266: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Fear the Reaper Previously: The Parody Master has agreed not to conquer Earth if the planet’s superheroes are controlled by mind-overriding Obedience Brands. Government legislation to bring this into force is a few days from activation. A cabal of covert agencies are undertaking dirty tricks to coerce the heroes into complying. The Lair Legion are leading the opposition and have given refuge to a diverse set of houseguests while planning their campaign or resistance.The Current Lair Legion Line-Up: Hatman (Jay Boaz) Acting Leader Field Team: Yo, Donar, CrazySugarFreakBoy! (Dreamcatcher Foxglove), Trickshot (Carl Bastion), Dancer (Sarah Shepherdson), the Manga Shoggoth, Mr Epitome (Dominic Clancy), Yuki Shiro, and new members ManMan (Joe Pepper) and Citizen Z. Associate Members: Lisa Waltz, Visionary, the Librarian (Lee Bookman), Al B. Harper Tie-In from Last Time: Adventures in Parodyverse – Falling Star, Part One by Jason. 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.  The Bloodreaper sat in absolute darkness, unmoving, unsleeping. He sat in a mystical cage of reinforced admantine, buried in basalt granite deep under Flanagan Island, beneath the metahuman detention facility, the Safe. He was sealed in, without food or water, and he had not stirred in all the long months since he had been incarcerated. He was waiting. He could hear the humans outside, making their preparations. He could smell the stink of their fear. They were going to open to door. He uncoiled himself with an easy fluid motion, seven feet of red-hued killing fury, horned and clawed and tusked. He had devoured his brothers in the womb and had clawed his way from his mother’s belly. He had slaughtered those who had arranged his conception. Each death he caused made him stronger, and he had slaughtered millions. The snap of seals being broken betrayed the humans coming. There was a hiss of pressure as the door was eased open. The Bloodreaper held out his hand and summoned his scythe to him. It glinted even in the darkness, hungry for blood. It was a part of him. The door was flung open and the sonic barrage was triggered. They used strobes and gas bombs to confuse and debilitate and fired long high-tensile chains into his body to pin him down. The Bloodreaper laughed and began his slaughter. The careful preparations meant nothing to him. He was stronger than they expected, faster than they could believe. Within twenty seconds forty soldiers lay dead. And the Bloodreaper’s day was just beginning. More were coming. The commanding officer fumbled with a shock grenade, the new generation Turrets Inc T-99 Metahuman Disposal Incendiary, designed to take down Donar or Epitome. The Bloodreaper ripped it from him, taking his hand as well, and swallowed it to explode inside him. Fifteen seconds later and nobody else was alive in the room. Only one person blocked the doorway to freedom, a leather-coated pretty boy with an amused smile. The Bloodreaper swung his scythe to take off the interloper’s head. The Doomherald caught the edge of the blade on the palm of his hand and twisted the weapon from the Bloodreaper’s grasp. “Bad boy!” he scolded, and pounded the Bloodreaper back into his cell. The Bloodreaper clutched his stoved-in chest and regenerated; but too slowly. The Doomherald was on him again, pinning him to the ground. “Bad news, old thing,” the emissary of the Parody Master told him, “You’ve been drafted.” The Bloodreaper felt something burn into his forehead, a symbol, a brand. He snarled and howled. And then he obeyed. Lisa looked at the big situation globe spinning in the Operations Room. “What a mess,” she said. “It was ManMan,” objected Flapjack hastily switching from the Playboy Channel back to security monitor feeds. “He had his first stint on monitor duty and all the burger wrappers are from the stuff he sneaked past Yuki.” Lisa poined to the hundreds of red incident spots on the hologram sphere and to the large axe holes in the walls of the room where Donar and Harlagaz had made impromptu “hard air” firewalls for the mansion’s computer systems. “I was really referring to the globe looking like a Christmas tree and the equipment looking like Enty had a sudden idea for building a better washing machine and asking Donar to gather parts for him. What’s been going on?” “Ah. Well Donar and Harlagaz protected Hallie from viruses when Vizh got her pregnant,” the hunchbacked major domo explained. “Amber usually orders the replacements but since she got Obedience Branded and what with Asil all upset about Sir Mumphrey nobody’s been picking up the slack. Hatty’s been busy with our new members Citizen Z and UselessMan. CSFB!’s been mooning over his son. Epitome’s been avoiding Kat since the thing with Exemplary. Dancer’s not around because she joined MetaWatch. Since he got back, Al B. and that new hottie of his came and inspected the damage under the console but all they did was groan about it for fifteen minutes then head off again. And I was… ow!” Lisa dragged Flapjack by the ear over to the whiteboard. She got a marker pen and wrote HALLIE – VIZH - MUMPHREY – CITIZEN Z – MANMAN – CSFB! – EPITOME - DANCER. “Now,” she said determinedly, “let’s go over that again shall we?” “Where would you like me to start, mistress?” The first lady of the Lair Legion glanced at her list and at the hundreds of urgent situations blinking on the situation monitor. “Tell me what Visionary did now,” she sighed. “Did you just shoot me with a paint gun?” Visionary asked in disbelief, looking down at the green-clad elf on his doorstep. “This towel was nearly new! And also: ow!” “Well yes,” agreed the elf. “But it’s magical paint. If you’d been a shapeshifter, an ur-grim, a shadow-walker, a sess fiend, a fetch, a boggart, a tween, shade, double, elder being, loathewretch or hagspawn then you’d have dissolved by now.” “I’m real, dammit. And also a bit chilly, given that you dragged me out of the shower. If I invite you in will you please not shoot me again.” “Sure,” agreed the elf. “Um, is Zebulon at home?” “Zebulon?” “An elf. About my height, likes to tinker, about as stable as a one-legged penguin?” “Yes, I know Zeb. But he’s been living in NTU-150’s labs down in the Philippines for quite a while now,” Vizh explained. “He was kind of miffed when his room in my Condo exploded. And before that there was the accelerants ownership dispute with my ward. And the redecorating.” “Ah, that’s a problem then,” the elf frowned. “You see I’ve got an official quest here for him.” He proffered a scroll that shimmered with golden light and scattered silver sparkles as he moved it. “From the Faerie Queene.” “Hi. Welcome to Earth,” said Uhuna to the visitors from Swordrealm and Esperine. “I’m the head of the welcoming committee.” “She’s apparently famous for it,” teased Katarina Allen. Yo poked Kat playfully in the ribs. “You be to be behaving!” S/he turned to do the introductions. “Cute-Princess Lileblanche, to be meeting of cute-Princess Uhunalura. And this is being cute Kat Allen, cute April Alice Apple, cute Sir John de Jaboz, cute Cleone Swanmay, and… where is to be cute Asil?” “She’s not around,” April warned. “Ever since Mumph’s daughter and Samantha… well, she took it hard when Hatty wouldn’t let her go help. And now Mumphrey’s disappeared.” “Is somebody to be talking with her?” Yo worried. “I think she was talking with cute-George,” answered Fetish Lad. “I’m sorry about Sir Mumphrey,” George Gedney told Asil. “It’s just terrible.” “I should have been with him,” the eccentric Englishman’s young amanuensis fretted. “He needed me. Now he’s vanished. He might be dead.” “He’d want you safe, Asil.” “But I want to help him. He needs me! And poor Samantha…” She wiped another tear from already-reddened eyes. “I’m glad you’re back though, George. It helps to have somebody to talk to about all this.” The curator looked uncomfortable. “Um yes, about that. I’m afraid I have to go now. Back to Willingham, I mean. To my job. There are things I have to do. I’m really sorry. But I hope you feel better later. Goodbye.” Asil watched in disbelief as the young man nodded an embarrassed farewell and hurried out of the lighthouse and across the causeway, hands in pockets. “Herringcarp Asylum is currently disguised as a modern licensed mental health facility. In fact it treats the majority of mental health cases requiring residential stays in the state of Gothametropolis York,” Agent Steenbergen explained. “The Hooded Hood’s ability to cause retrospective changes in continuity – retconning – somehow tends to divert our attention away from us knowing these facts, but we have a set of precautions in place now to help us remember the tactical information. To sanction the target you will need to penetrate the unreality shield he has placed around his stronghold, slash through contingency defences, and take him unawares before he can use his resources to defend himself. Any questions?” “Yes,” growled the Bloodreaper. “Do you know what a caecum looks like?” Agent Steenbergen hastily checked his notes. “Er, no, that doesn’t seem to be in here,” he admitted. The Bloodreaper hammered his fist into his briefer’s abdomen and ripped out the large intestine. “This is it,” he explained, holding the gory rubes up before the dying man’s eyes. “It’s right here under this peritoneum, next to your appendix.” The Sentinoids rushed in to subdue the berserker. He snorted and summoned his scythe and reduced three billion dollars worth of advanced metahuman elimination systems to scrap, then turned on the special forces closing round him. “Stop right there!” ordered Harmanda Barriere, the heavy-set black woman in charge of the Special Protocals Against Metahumans unit. “Don’t move till I say so!” The Bloodreaper sullenly froze in place, allowing the soldier he’d got his fists in to slide off his hand and ooze down to the floor, leaving his lungs behind in the reaver’s clutch. “Is there a problem?” he asked. “You were ordered not to murder anybody,” Barriere objected. “Except the target.” “This wasn’t really murder,” the Bloodreaper sniffed. “Too easy. Light entertainment.” The Obedience Brand worked on the former Hellraiser after a fashion, but filtered through his own demonic perceptions and standards. He licked the gore off his fingers and planned how he was going to slaughter Barriere. “Do not cross me,” the black woman warned, getting into the killer’s face. “You think you’re high and mighty because you can cut up a few soldiers? I’ve seen the tapes of you blubbering like a girl after the Shoggoth talked with you. I’ve seen the autopsies on your team-mates after the Lair Legion stomped them down. So you can get your red ass on the floor and give me two hundred press-ups, and then you can get in the transport and go do what you’ve been told to do, which is work off that excess aggression on the Hooded Hood.” The Bloodreaper reluctantly obeyed. The Brand scarring his forehead was a livid wound as he fought against it. “Don’t fight it,” Barriere cajoled. “We’re letting you do what you like to do best. Just do it for us.” “All hail the Parody Master,” growled the Bloodreaper. “You think he cares how many Earth humans I tear apart?” “I care. And I command you, Sparky.” “I can’t go in to Herringcarp bound by your restrictions,” the berserker complained. “The Hood is tricky, and powerful, and that is the place he’s prepared against me. I can’t play nicely and still rip his guts out.” “Once the mission starts you can kill to achieve your objective,” Barriere allowed. “But only to achieve your objective. And you will under no circumstances harm the woman known as Jury, or cause any harm to befall her. Is that clear?” “Yeah,” agreed the Bloodreaper. “Just so as you know I’ll be looking for you afterwards, and no matter what this Brand says you’ll be a long time dying and then I’m going to rip out your soul.” “Give me another five hundred.” “Lee! Am I glad to see you!” D.D. gasped as the Librarian disembarked with A.L.F.RED from the Galactibus on Landing Pad Chaucer. “I was running out of excuses, and Auditor Blay-kee will be here in the next few minutes!” “Yes, I got your three hundred and forty memos about that,” Lee Bookman responded. “I’m replaced as Librarian of Sector 7272, and Blay-kee’s coming to take charge of the Lunar Public Library. I’m to head back to the Central Library for reassignment.” “We’re going to get Audited,” the artificial intelligent fretted. “A.L.F.RED and I, we’ll be reset to our basic modes.” “They can kiss my shiny tin ass over that,” the robotic major domo noted. “Sir.” “Well, let’s not panic yet,” the Librarian told his staff. “Get me Supervisor Garth on the viewer in my office, please.” Lee settled into his chair in the tiny book-lined room with some nostalgia. He liked this place, this library, this job. But every job had its downsides, and this job came with Supervisor Garth and the Governors. “Bookman! So you decided to show up at last!” Garth scorned as his bloated face filled the communications slab. “Doing my duty, of course sir,” the Librarian replied. “I’m ready to depart as soon as Auditor Blay-kee arrives with my transport.” “What?” objected D.D. with a gasp. “I thought you could make your own way, Bookman?” challenged the Supervisor. “You’re required back here urgently, by order of the Governors.” “Yes sir. But I couldn’t use unauthorised non-Library transport. You’ve told me so many times. And orders are orders.” “Lee, the Auditor will be here any time now!” D.D. hissed. “This isn’t going to work!” “Very well,” Garth conceded. “You will remain at station – by which I mean in the Library itself – until such time as the Audit Ship arrives. You will then proceed back here at best speed. Is that understood.” “Absolutely, sir. Thank you for clarifying. Bookman out.” “Well that solves everything,” A.L.F.RED declared as the communication slab went dark. “You’ve bought us all another ten minutes.” “Or until Auditor Blay-Kee arrives,” Lee said, settling back into his chair and reaching for the daily lending reports with some satisfaction. “Well, what was it?” demanded Auditor Blay-Kee, trying to keep the screech in his voice under control. “What in the name of the Governors was it?” Engineering looked up from his console with an unhappy frown and a facial tic. “I have no idea sir. Giant space snot? It came from nowhere and we just flew into it.” “But it’s gone now? As if it was never there?” “Yes sir,” agreed Engineering. “And we’ll be able to rebore and restart the warp engines in less than thirty hours. But…” “But?” asked Blay-Kee dangerously. “But according to our readings,” Navigation winced, “We’ve somehow shifted a quarter of a million light years away from the galactic hub. At top speed we won’t be back in known space for at least three weeks. Oh, and all our star maps appear to have been replaced with recordings of something called ‘Vampire Princess Miyu’ and ‘Marmalade Boy’.” The unmarked armoured truck was moving along I80 towards Berwick, PA, when the Bloodreaper made his move. He tore free from the shackles that bound him and decapitated the guards that were covering him. He carved his way through to the drivers compartment and killed the men there too. He amused himself stopping vehicles on the highway for around twenty minutes, but realised it would take far too long to build his strength up from the dead that way. So he hiked north, looking for a good place to begin his mission against the Hooded Hood. Lock Haven in Clinton County was a small town with a population of just over 9,000 people. The Bloodreaper used his scythe to disrupt the physical laws around the place, cutting off radio transmissions and complex electromagnetic transfers. Every phone, TV, and internet connection across the county crashed. Then the Bloodreaper went to the town hall and started to work his way outwards. He needed strength. He needed lives. He was only following orders. “Up to speed on what’s been going on since you disappeared?” Hatman asked Lisa and Al B. “Um, as much as I can be,” Al apologised. “Kinki wanted a tour of the Mansion.” “It’s been a busy time,” Lisa agreed. “Poor Mumphrey. Is there any word?” “He’s vanished. We’re worried that the kidnapper called him to some location by threatening his granddaughter and now has Mumph as well. He’s completely dropped off the map.” “Don’t be to be giving up on Mumphing yet,” Yo advised. “Is to be that Mumph can become very dangerous when he is being pushed too far.” “Yes,” shuddered Lisa. “There’s a core of ruthlessness there when he stops being a gentleman.” “What they did to him and his family, he should be ruthless,” Yuki Shiro scowled. She glowered across the table at Al B. “We should all stop taking insults and backing down.” Hatman caught the tension in the air and pushed on. “This briefing is just a quick update and some deployment details,” he said, trying to ignore the fact that he was in the big chair with the weight of the world on him. “The plan is unfolding within design parameters. Vizh was interrogated by some psychiatrist who was probably working for the government. Flapjack was pumped by some floozies who picked him up in a bar.” “Literally pumped, as I understand it,” Lisa clarified. “Er, yes. Well, the point is the government is starting to get us where they think they want us. But things have gotten nasty and they’re going to get nastier yet.” “Yo is to be thinking you are doing a lovely job, cute-Hatty,” Yo encouraged the capped crusader. “Yo is very happy you are to being cute-acting leader.” Mr Epitome tried to hide his sneer. “Thanks, Yo. Anyhow, the alliances we’ve made look like they might work out. Yo’s returning to Swordrealm with Enty and some engineers to try and salvage that dreadnaught you got hold of. If we could somehow get it on our side it could be an important asset.” “Yo is thinking is to be possible, and is good for to be filled with Knights Improbablar for possible battling, yes?” “What about the information from Xaradim? Zebulon’s quest?” Visionary asked, referring to his paint-gun wielding visitor of earlier. “If the Parody Master is trying to create a beach-head in the Mythlands that could be a precursor to invading Earth through that dimension.” “Verily with I go theron and smiteth yon stealer of Ausgard most wrothfully,” Donar offered. “It might come to that, big guy,” Hatty agreed, “but it might be a feint as well. Dream’s recommended somebody that we can send to scout out what’s happening: Sydney St Sylvain, the Fashion Fairy. She really does have a fey heritage so she can pass as a native in the Many Coloured Lands. She’s putting together a team.” “What about Badripoor?” Vizh asked. “spiffy’s not making a lot of friends by granting political asylum to metahumans and former mutates.” “Could be a problem,” Mr Epitome agreed. “We’re monitoring it, but we’re spread very thin just now. Hopkins will just have to rely on his weapons of mass destruction and anti-American alliances to keep his rogue state from becoming toast.” “Good job he’s got the Idiom helping him out,” Vizh said nastily, referring to the man of might’s ex-girlfriend. “What of these rumours of yon vampire lord gathering yon nosferatu and skinchangers for the Parody Master’s cause?” demanded Donar. “Say the word and I shalt pound all undead to jelly for the nonce.” “We do need to keep tabs on that,” Hatman agreed. “A lot of Dream’s occult sources seem to have gone to ground. Even the Abyssal Greye’s not returning our calls.” “And there’s no point calling in Xander the Improbable to deal with it,” Lisa reminded them. “Nitz the Bloody seems to have vanished,” Hatman noted, “but there is one… contact I have in the vampire community. I’ll see what she knows.” “She’s not an incredibly creepy little girl, is she?” Vizh worried. “Only those old eyes in that innocent face…” “It’s somebody else, okay,” Hatty said. “And I trust her.” “Somebody you’ve dated then,” concluded Mr Epitome. “Is that why you approved Citizen Z as well?” “My personnel decisions are none of your business, Clancy,” Hatman snapped. “Moving on, I’m sending Lisa and Al to confirm the alliances we have with the alien races. Now we have co-ordinated I’m told that EEE can set up secure dimensional jump gates to get there.” “Probably secure,” Al B. admitted. “The Parody Master’s tech people are pretty advanced, but at least now I’ve seen their database I know how they’d try to intercept us.” “Dancer’s still chasing MetaWatch,” Hatman noted. “Dream’s recruiting some possible new allies here on Earth. The Shoggoth’s helping the Librarian with a little problem. Tricky’s taking the new recruits on their first field op.” “And you’re still not telling us who Citizen Z really is?” Lisa wheedled. “I promised,” Jay Boaz reminded her. “We also need to look at temporary duty deployments. Since Yo’s going off again I propose to keep CSFB! on as acting deputy. I’m putting Epitome as police liaison. I’d like you to take over as Training and Tactical Officer, Yuki.” Yuki Shiro looked up in surprise. “Me?” “Yes. Just don’t kill anyone. Even ManMan. Oh, and I’m bumping you from probationary to full member. Despite the damage bills. Congratulations.” The cyborg P.I.’s mouth formed a little O, then changed into a slow smile that she tried hard to suppress. “I’ll also need you to take a clandestine meeting with Indy and Gunther, Yuki” he added. “They’ve got some important information they can’t trust to the usual drops.” Donar stirred restlessly. “Whence shalt we start smiting back at these pissants that oppress us?” he demanded. “When foul felons crow on their dunghills the Oldmanson does not enjoy sitting around doing naught. Except mayhap when Xena is on. Or mine lady Buffy.” “Soon, big guy,” promised Hatty. “Just hold on for a while longer. Registration’s getting very close, and if we can’t do something through diplomatic channels…” “I couldst at least have gone with yon team that ist following yon leads brought by Countess Romanza,” sulked the hemigod. “That mission really needs subtlety,” Lisa pointed out, laying an admiring hand on the thunder god’s muscular arm. “I canst be subtle,” Donar objected. “Verily, I hast purchased a baseball cap as a mortal disguise.” “You wanted this mission to be subtle,” noted Epitome. “and you sent Trickshot?” Citizen Z held her gloved hand to the lock on the files room. A moment later there was a click as the tumblers turned. The mysterious vigilante opened the door and slipped inside. “How did you do that?” ManMan asked her. “Brilliantly,” Z replied. “Tell Natty Bumpo that we’re in.” “Who?” “The Last of the Mohicans,” Knifey supplied. “Hawkeye. She means Trickshot.” ManMan sighed and worked out what to press on his comm-card. “We’re in.” “Okay kid,” came back the voice of the irritating archer, “Just get the days’ security code rosters an’ get out fast,” “But it’s legal for us to break into a secret SPUD communications node underneath the Paradopolis Monorail Interchange, right?” Manny checked. “Oh sure. I got me a Presidential Letter right here in my quiver,” Trickshot assured him. Z was already rifling through the files on the secure computer. “Those codes Hacker Nine provided are amazing,” she admitted. “There might as well not be any security on these systems.” “And have you found that data?” Z pushed a few extra keys to create her own backdoor for later and shifted the codes to an external data stick. “Yes. Now you just fight the automated defence robot that downloading that material just triggered and I’ll get back to Trickshot with the codes.” “The what?” ManMan asked before the Dreadnot jumped him. The Herringcarp Care Centre For the Emotionally Troubled was a pristine modern white building with a spectacular ocean view. Neat white-coated men and woman cared for the needs of their patients in an environment of sterile ordered calm. The Bloodreaper came in through the vitaglass skylight over Lounge Three, disturbing a gestalt therapy session be ripping the head off the psychotherapist and hurling it at the guests. “Guess what?” he shouted at the screaming , fleeing survivors. “Everything you saw in your nightmares? It’s all true!” Hospital security arrived, saw what they were facing, and tried to flee. The Centre was deliberately isolated to ensure calm and peace. The only connection to land was a long causeway over the shallows and reefs to the shore. The fleeing patients and staff now found the bridge had been deliberately destroyed, severing their only safe escape. An hour and a half later, a happy Bloodreaper stood alone in a red-painted dining room and savoured his work. Then he hefted his scythe and began the painstaking, delicate work of slicing though layers of reality to get past the retcon and gain covert access to the real Herringcarp Asylum where his enemy dwelled. “And here we are back in the main hall again,” declared Uhuna. “That concludes our tour of the Lair Mansion.” “I particularly liked the Lair Observatory,” admitted Cleone. “And later I’ll need to go back to that rickety tower and talk to your unhappy banshee. But if you’ll excuse me I’m eager to go see Hallie and her baby right now.” “I have one question,” said Lileblanche. “How do you come to have pictures of my mother and father on this wall?” “Prince Kiivan, Emir of All Caph?” “Yes. And you?” “Sir John de Jaboz, Chevalier of the Order of the Improbablars. A champion of Justice. I understand that you rule a world that enslaves woman and treats them as property. That is vile. Have at thee!” Yuki found Hatman down in the map room checking the latest satellite intel. “I need to say something,” she told him. “Sure. What?” “A question and an observation, really.” “Go ahead.” The cyborg P.I. hesitated, then said, “This new job for me… it’s not out of pity, is it?” “Pity?” “Because I got dumped by Al B. Harper in favour of his future-bimbo.” “No,” Hatman assured her. “You’re the best person for the job. And although we might have differences about your working styles and discipline issues you know your stuff. I’m happy to give you your chance.” “Oh. Well then, that’s fine.” “Wait a minute. You were dating Al B?” Hatman wasn’t usually the first to notice things like that. “Our Al B.?” “Never mind,” Yuki told him. “It’s not relevant. But I do have something else I want to say to you. A word of advice.” “I could use advice, I guess.” Yuki moved closer. “Don’t try to be Mumphrey. He did his job pretty well, and he did it sitting behind his desk most of the time because that played to his strengths – the old boy network, and being regimental major and stuff. You… that’s not your strengths. So my advice is get out from that musty office and lead from the front. That’s the kind of leader you’ll excel at being.” Jay Boaz considered this. “Well, I guess I do miss the hands on stuff,” he admitted. “I think you should go to the Indy meet. CSFB!’s called in for somebody to cover his back in Eastern Europe so I’ll head out and do that instead. Okay?” “Okay.” Hatman grinned. “You’re thinking like a tactics officer already.” “I guess I am,” Yuki admitted. And she smiled too. “It is impossible to tell if all the pieces are in place,” the Hooded Hood noted, moving his bishop of King’s Rook Five. “Some things cannot be verified except by seeing how they unfold.” Jury shifted her pawn forward to counter the threat. “You’ve laid all the clues for the Lair Legion,” she noted. “You can’t risk being more obvious without the Parody Master working out what you’ve set up and countering it. Now it’s just a matter of whether they piece things together in time.” The Hood turned to the other chessboard and countered a threat to his knight by shifting his queen to lock the threatening piece in place to protect the white king. Gideon Book instead moved his own knight to a forward position. “Still, it’s a shame that Mumphrey Wilton isn’t there. The Emissary of Order is a strong candidate to lead the team, but this is no time for inexperience.” “Mumphrey’s vanished,” Jury explained, shifting her rook forward. “He long since worked out ways of hiding himself from the Triumverate and from the Portal of Pretentiousness. Check, Iolodobaoth, and checkmate in three.” “Perhaps,” replied the Hooded Hood. He shifted a pawn that was bound to be taken. “I’m sure Wilton isn’t out of the game yet either. I expect he will do something ruthless and extraordinary that will make his enemies regret him.” “She’s right about the checkmate,” the Word of Logos warned the cowled crime czar. “But the enemy is sloppy. They have allowed too many of those who would oppose them to vanish, assumed vanquished. Like myself. They never even considered that I could be removed from the explosion a fraction of a second beforehand by the Portal of Pretentiousness, as we had arranged.” He moved his own queen. “And it’s checkmate in two here. Not a good day for you, Hood.” “It’s not over yet,” the archvillain replied. “It’s not over until surrender or death.” And then the Bloodreaper burst up through the floor, scattering the chess-pieces everywhere, and lunged for the Hooded Hood. “Dominic, are you avoiding me? You haven’t said more than two dozen words to me since I arrived.” Mr Epitome turned and found Katarina Allen standing in the door of the Operations Room. “You’re not cleared for this area,” he told her. “Er, I mean that in a polite way, not the way it came out.” Kat held up her security pass. “I’m cleared for it now. Lisa said you needed extra help on the monitors and I was at a loose end. She turned down similar requests from Pelopia and Kinki, and they’re both livid. But here I am.” “I’ll give you a quick orientation then,” the paragon of power responded. “Let’s start with the video monitor banks and the situation globe…” “Let’s start with you answering my question, Dominic. Are you embarrassed that I’m here? Angry with me? What?” “No,” Epitome denied. “None of that. I’m just… not good when the compartments of my life overlap each other. I’m not the same person here with the Lair Legion as I can be when I’m alone with you.” “I notice you still seem to get very catty around Hatman.” “That’s not how I’d characterise it.” Kat looked unhappy. “I don’t mean to be a burden, Dom. I didn’t want to come here, but when I got attacked by Exemplary…” “You shouldn’t ever have been threatened!” Epitome blurted. “Or when it happened I should have been there to help you. To save you!” “You already saved me, Dom, remember?” the weaver prompted him. “Back when we first met, and plenty after that. And you warned me about Exemplary and arranged for me to have that Shoggoth brooch. You haven’t let me down.” Epitome busied himself with the monitor boards. “It doesn’t feel like that.” Kat laid a hand on his wrist. “Dom, you don’t have to save me for me to like you. I don’t just like you because I’m grateful.” “I can’t cope with normal relationships, Kat. It’s not me.” “Welcome to planet Earth,” Katarina Allen told him. “We all feel like that here. Stay a while. You might like it.” “I’m Trickshot!” shouted Carl Bastion at the overweight scruffy man with the food stains on his coat. “I’m part of the Lair %7$£! Legion! We got security clearances coming outta our wazoo!” “Not anymore, buster,” acting Police Commissioner Harold Hoglett told the arrogant archer. “We got us some new policies here in Paradopolis. We’re bringing in the regs they’ve been usin’ in GMY. And that means no superheroes.” “Don Graham would never go for this!” “Yeah, but the poor old guy’s wheezing on a heart machine in PMH,” Hoglett smirked. “So I’m the new sheriff in town. An’ we got new policies now.” “Policies that say you gotta lick Exemplary’s murderous butt-cheeks?” Trickshot shouted. Officers were starting to gather in the hallway now. Some were moving their hands to their weapons. “Look Mr Tights, you ain’t got your special dispensation any more. You don’t have no pull in this city now. It’s my beat. My rules. Now get outta here before I have you locked away for disturbing the peace.” “You want your peace disturbing?” shouted Trickshot, struggling as officers held him back from the new acting Commissioner. “I’ll disturb your peace all the way to th’ bed next ta Graham!” Everybody was watching the show. Nobody saw Natalia Romanza lead ManMan and Citizen Z past the throng and into the secure computer room that linked police headquarters with the national security computer grid. “Wow, when Tricky stages a disturbance he really knows how to be disturbing,” ManMan admitted. “Nobody can be more annoying than Trickshot,” the Contessa agreed. “He is the best there is at what he does.” “So this is the secured terminal that links in with SPUD systems,” Citizen Z noted with interest. “And the codes we acquired previously can open us a way into their databases.” “We already have ways into their databases,” Natalia said dismissively. “I’m very good. No, this gets us into their command and control systems. There’s a very secret back door built in.” “By you?” Z speculated. “By Dan Drury,” the Contessa replied. “In case… well in case anything like this ever happened.” “And you found out about it?” “He told me. He’s not as dumb as he looks.” “It’s nice that not everybody is, eh Joe?” sniped Knifey. “I’m still in pain here from fighting that killer robot,” Joe Pepper complained. “Can we spare the banter till I’m less bruised?” Citizen Z watched closely as the Contessa over-rode every safeguard. “What are you going to do.” CODEWORD: RUTH1; SAFEWORD: GEHRIG2, Natalia typed. EXECUTE OPERATION SHUTDOWN. “I’ve just closed down every SPUD system on the planet,” the Contessa replied. “Satellites, surveillance cameras, data resources, machinery, computer-controlled weapons, Sentinoids. Right now the helicarrier’s landing on Constitution Avenue and once it’s parked it’s parked for good. All SPUD bank accounts are locked. All agent communication codes are locked.” She smiled viciously. “SPUD is taking the week off.” From the hall there came the sound of a water cooler hitting an overweight acting Commissioner. “Perhaps we’d better be going now?” suggested Knifey. Then, for no apparent reason, the security alarm went off, betraying their presence. “You know,” Al B. pointed out, “if we could just stop for five minutes to catch our breath I’d like to figure out what out relationship is.” Kinki the Conqueress squirmed back into her catsuit and zipped it part way up. “I am your lover,” she explained. “We are together, to the chagrin of that cadre of lesser women who desire you but who were too weak to act upon their desires or hold onto your affections. Later you will help me to conquer the universe using your technological genius.” “Well actually,” Al warned her, “no I won’t.” “Won’t? Won’t?” “No. I don’t use my genius for evil. I’d be too good at it.” Kinki leaned forward, offering Al a spectacular view of her cleavage. “Al, as my lover your job is to help me achieve my objectives.” “Kinki, the conquering the universe thing is kind of a deal-breaker.” The future-woman’s face reddened as she became cross. Al realised she had her omni-transistor ray with her. Where did she conceal it? “You spurn me?” she asked dangerously. “Me? Kinki the Conqueress?” The tableau was interrupted by Cody Harper barging into the lab. “Hey, I wondered if you wanted to spot me fifty bucks to…” He took in the scene before him: Al, Kinki, the weapon. His mouth dropped open. “Mom?” “Through this door!” the Contessa called to her two charges. “Quickly!” “Where does it lead?” ManMan asked. “Away from the angry policemen with guns,” suggested Citizen Z. “Move if you don’t want the shortest probationary period on record!” “Hey, hold it!” Knifey called out as the fugitives rushed forwards. “Was this door even here when we came in?” But they’d already dashed though it by then. “Halt!” the Word of Logos spoke in his Voice of Command. “Move no more!” The Bloodreaper hesitated as the power of Order clashed in his mind with the rule of the Obedience Brand. A guttural scream strangled in his throat. With two opposing orders he went with his instinct and reached out the slaughter the Hooded Hood. But by then the Hood had ushered Jury and the Word to safety, banished somehow from the throne room. The cowled crime czar stood facing the Bloodreaper alone, hands clasped behind his back, eyes glowing greenly. “Good evening,” he bade the monster. “My scythe can shred your retcons as you weave them,” the Bloodreaper warned. “You are going to die for what I did to you.” “Perhaps,” the Hooded Hood responded. “You’re not the only person to come at me with a bladed weapon in this room.” The Portal of Pretentiousness flashed, and ManMan, Citizen Z, and the Contessa found where the sudden doorway they’d taken led them. “Mr Pepper also stabbed me to death here on one occasion,” the Hood said conversationally. “Oh crap!” gibbered ManMan. And even as he was gibbering he was moving forward to fight the Bloodreaper. “Watch out!” Natalia Romanza called. “That’s the last of the Hellraisers! He’s insanely powerful.” A seven foot scythe clanged off Knifey as Joe managed to turn the first thrust away. He twisted aside just in time to avoid the reaper’s horns, then staggered back at a claw to the chest. “The nice thing about ManMan fighting anything is that he’s always way out of his league,” Citizen Z pointed out. “So really it doesn’t matter if his opponent is merely very powerful or insanely powerful. He’s completely outclassed either way.” “I thought we’d got over that whole accidentally murdering you thing, Hood?” ManMan called out as he fended off the Bloodreaper. The killing machine didn’t seem to like how Knifey clashed against his scythe, shearing chips from the sticky black edge. “The Bloodreaper is considerably weakened, Mr Pepper,” the Hood explained. “Conflicting orders slow and distract him, and the illusionary souls he absorbed when he slaughtered his way through my asylum facade are now debilitating him well below his usual capacities.” ManMan barely dodged another lethal thrust. “Good to know I’m getting slaughtered by a monster that’s not even on the top if its game,” Joe complained. “Banter with the Hood later, Joe,” advised Knifey. “Concentrate for now on taking this creature down. I don’t think we have to play by the Queensbury rules here.” “Knifey?” roared the Bloodreaper. “You’re carrying that &%$£! Knifey?!” “He’s an Elvis impersonator, I’m a Knifey impersonator,” the sentient blade explained as the Bloodreaper swarmed over them. “You should also hear my Sinatra.” The Contessa aimed her neuro-stunner at the Bloodreaper. Perhaps it further dazed the slowed killing machine, perhaps not. Joe Pepper survived for ten seconds more. “Have I congratulated you yet on your return to superheroics and your membership of the Lair Legion?” the Hood asked ManMan. “Hood, if that thing kills Pepper, everyone else in this room is dead too,” Citizen Z pointed out. “Indeed,” agreed the Hooded Hood. “Perhaps it is time to end this.” He turned to gaze into the shadows. “If you would be so kind, my dear?” Gamona the Assassin leaped out of the darkness, wrenched the Bloodreaper’s head round 180 degrees, then ripped out his spine. ManMan dropped to all fours, gasping, clutching his torn side. “You could have done that before,” accused Knifey. “Actually she needed to wait until the various previous means of degrading the Bloodreaper’s performance had taken effect,” the archvillain replied. He thanked Gamona. “Take the Bloodreaper back to his old cell, would you?” he asked her. “Preferably before he regenerates. I’d estimate you have around seven minutes.” “I could make it permanent,” the green woman offered. “That would be wasteful,” replied the Hooded Hood. “Simply place him in his restraints and then I send you to where you wished to go as we agreed.” “I thought you were joining the Lair Legion?” Citizen Z asked the assassin. “The Legion are weak and do not want me,” Gamona replied. “The Hooded Hood is strong and will send me where I can harm the Parody Master.” The Contessa helped ManMan stagger to his feet. “So far this isn’t turning out to be the easiest job in the world,” Joe Pepper winced. “I like a job I can sink myself into though,” mused Knifey. The Hooded Hood bent down and picked up the four chess kings scattered across the floor. “It looks like those games are void,” he noted to himself. “Perhaps we need to set up the pieces again.” Hatman flew down into Off-Central Park at midnight and doffed his Eagles cap in favour of his Owls hat. He identified Indiana Gnome and Gunther immediately in the wet gloom. “How’s it going?” he asked the pair of unlikely detectives that were supplying the LL with underworld information. “You said you had something to tell us that required a face-to-face meeting? “Yes,” Indy agreed, moving forward. Gunther preferred the shadows. “We wanted to let you know that we’ve both been captured and given Patriot Brands,” he explained. “What?” Hatman reached for his Steelers cap. “They’ve joined the winning team, Mr Boaz,” said the Doomherald, standing by Hatman’s left shoulder. “And now we want to talk to you.” Next Time: It’s time to go after Hatman, Dancer, Vizh, and CrazySugarFreakBoy! in the previously-promised Special Protocols and Extreme Measures. It’s a shocker! Tie-In Follow-Ups: Adventures in Parodyverse – Falling Star, Part Two by Jason. Before the Shooting Starts by Killer Shrike 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. |
