Post By The frightfully long conclusion to the Special Resolution 1066 arc. This issue... somebody dies! Sat May 27, 2006 at 06:04:35 pm EDT |
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#273: Untold Revolutionary Tales of the Lair Legion: Of the People, By the People, For the People | |
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#273: Untold Revolutionary Tales of the Lair Legion: Of the People, By the People, For the People Previously: Under threat of planetary conquest and destruction by the Parody Master, Earth’s governments have implemented compulsory registration of all superhumans. This also includes using Obedience Brands – technology provided by the Parody Master himself – to provide an over-ride that can enslave the recipient. The Lair Legion has refused to submit to Branding, and have therefore been declared outlaw. Their headquarters island is under siege by over four hundred branded supervillains with orders to destroy them utterly. Protected by a slowly-dwindling energy barrier created by the island’s ancient mystical defences, our heroes await the coming battle knowing it may be their last. CrazySugarFreakBoy! has already been branded, and once the barrier goes down it will trigger and destroy him. The Parody Master waits and watches, advised by Xander the Improbable, (usually Earth’s mystic champion sorcerer supreme but now branded and enslaved himself). The deadline for Earth’s surrender is but seven days away. 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. They that can give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty or safety. Benjamin Franklin Somewhere in the Horsehead Nebula, ninety thousand dimensional dreadnaughts were gathered around the homeworld of the Telmanites, another of the humanoid species seeded by the Celestians across the universe. The Telmanites had discovered space travel a little under a year ago after receiving the broadcasts of the Transworlds Challenge. The Parody Master stood on the command deck of the Triumph of Destiny, largest and most powerful of the war fleet that had set hundreds of worlds burning. He watched the final moments of the battle, then turned away disappointed. “Pathetically easy,” he spat. “Once their armies had been slaughtered, the civilian population crumbled and fled like cowards.” “Yes, well, sometimes sixty percent casualties from overwhelming invaders using technology a thousand years more advanced will do that to a people,” Xander the Improbable pointed out. He stood at the Parody Master’s side, his hands stuck into the pockets of his faded red robes, watching sadly. “We can’t all be seven foot tall universe conquerors, you know.” “Silence!” demanded Holy Taur, High Priest of the Parody Master. Taur didn’t like the Obedience Branded sorcerer supreme. The man was irreverent. He was a threat to Taur’s position. Xander blew his nose. “These Telmanites are not worthy of continued existence,” the Parody Master decided. “Send word to Avatar. Slaughter them all. Disassemble their planet for its component materials. Erase them from history.” “Of course, my lord,” bowed the High Priest. “It will be my pleasure.” “It will be as well,” muttered Xander darkly. “Pillock.” The Parody Master turned to Xander. “You disapprove of my decision?” “Well of course not,” answered the master of the mystic crafts. “I can’t, given that I’ve been branded with this techno-organic obedience rune, can I? But it doesn’t stop me using my brain, and really I don’t think the Telmanites are the number one priority right now.” The Parody Master looked over at the monitor banks. “Earth,” he said. “The choice of the Telmanites is also upon them.” “Death or glory,” agreed Xander. “Do they tear down their heroes or make an impossible last stand against your overwhelming force? Today’s the decision day.” “And what do you believe they will do?” Xander shrugged. “I think they’ll come after you,” he warned with a little smile. General rebellions and revolts of a whole people never were encouraged now or at any time. They are always provoked. Edmund Burke Six Months Ago: “So, are we to be having of a probleming?” Yo asked the first lady of the Lair Legion. “Very much of a probleming,” Lisa Waltz, the amorous advocatrix, answered gravely. “If this bill gets passed, along with similar legislation being enacted in most of the other nations across the world, it will make it illegal to possess super-powers, exotic technology, or mystic abilities or artefacts without being registered and fitted with an over-ride device. It’s kind of like the Mutate Powers Act hyped up on steroids.” “I told you guys!” CrazySugarFreakBoy! warned. “Mutate registration was just the start. Now it’s identification brands. Next it’ll be concentration camps and gas chambers.” “The infrastructure has already been built once,” Hatman shuddered. “They’re never going to pass this, Lisa.” “There’s something going on,” Yuki worried. “Something we’re missing. This all happened after that weird blackout in Washington a few weeks back. By the time we’d scrambled it was all over, but…” “There are a number of reasons the government would want to propagate this bill,” Mr Epitome admitted, “but I would expect it to be struck down in Supreme Court. The Constitution guarantees the right to bear arms, and super-powers could be considered…” “It’s a nasty, wicked piece of hate legislation,” Dancer interrupted. “We have to stop it. Simple as that.” “Not as simple as all that,” the Librarian warned. “It’s been well drafted, and there’s considerable political pressure being brought to bear to make it pass. And then…” “And then we have ta choose between bein Garrick’s government whippin’-boy puppets or rogue agents wanted by the law,” Trickshot pointed out. “An’ I kin tell you know which one Br’er Tricky’s gonna choose.” “We can’t allow this,” Visionary agreed. “I’m not letting them march the Juniors off and implant control technology into them.” “Verily. This best we smite the caitiffs and o’erthrow yon government,” Donar suggested. “And still people wonder why the government wants superheroes under control,” snorted Al B. Harper. “Well,” said Sir Mumphrey Wilton at last, “I for one don’t believe it’s in the world’s best interests to let this kind of thing happen unchallenged. Specially not when we’re expecting that blasted Parody Master to attack the planet in just under three months time. If this legislation’s passed we’ve got till spring 2006 to get it reversed before we’re supposed to surrender to control. That’ll give us time to investigate what’s really behind this, consider our options…” “And take over the planet if we have to,” concluded Lisa. She wasn’t joking. You can never have a revolution in order to establish democracy. You must have a democracy in order to have a revolution. G. K. Chesterton Now: “How did we get into this?” Silicone Sally Reziliant asked the zaftig villainess that was currently wearing her. The pliant mercenary was currently morphed into the shape of the Citizen Z jumpsuit that Baroness Elizabeth von Zemo was wearing in her masquerade as one of the superheroic Lair Legion. “We needed to hide from the people who wanted to brand us and use my technology to conquer the world without my permission,” Beth answered succinctly. “I needed a new power base urgently, and this seemed like a clever idea at the time.” “But that was before the zillion Obedience Branded supervillains surrounded Parody Island with orders to kill is, right?” Sally checked. “Isn’t it time we got out of here now?” “And how do you suggest we do that?” the Baroness challenged. “The Celestian barrier dome surrounding the isle prevents anyone getting in or out. Even when that atrophies in a few hours time the forces arrayed against us have got anti-teleportation fields and dimensional locks and everything they can conceive to prevent the Legion getting away. They want a massacre.” “But you do have a plan, right?” Silicone Sally checked. “Right?” “I have a plan. We can conceal ourselves in the hidden laboratory that my late unlamented uncle hid on the top floor of the Lair Mansion until things quieten down. Then while the heroes are being slaughtered and tortured we slip away during the bloodshed.” “Sounds dangerous. What if the mansion gets nuked or something?” “You’d prefer a heroic last stand next to ManMan, then?” “No. I like your plan better. It’s just that…” Sally quickly fell silent as Sir Mumphrey Wilton entered the Lair Library. “Ah, there you are, Citizen Z,” the eccentric Englishman noted. “Is there someone with you? Thought I heard talking.” “I was just declaiming,” Beth told him. “We superheroes do that sometimes. Monologues, mostly.” “Hmph. Anyhow, was wanting to say that I’ll be needing you with me between now and the final attack. Need somebody to assist me with my part of the master plan, you see, and I’m thinking you’d be the ideal person.” “With you?” Citizen Z worried. “But I was just on my way to…” “Whatever it is can wait,” Mumphrey told the trapped supervillainess. “You’re with me.” “With you. Right,” Beth von Zemo agreed, reaching for the monofilament sabre hanging at her left hip. One quick slash and the Legion would have to bring forward their leadership elections. “You and I have to head off and take over the Earth,” Sir Mumphrey continued. Beth von Zemo looked at the tweed-suited old man. “Okay,” she agreed. The sabre could stay in its scabbard for now. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Yuki Shiro asked CrazySugarFreakBoy! “You know, what with the…” And she gestured to the livid Obedience Brand seared into the wired wonder’s forehead. CSFB! shrugged. “It’s no fun if April’s not here,” he answered. “I skim-read my favourite comics, said goodbye to Jenna and Asia, recorded a DVD for my mom, all that stuff. But now I just want to kick some butt.” Yuki pointed to the shimmering barrier that surrounded Lair Island, keeping out the four hundred plus supervillains of the government’s Terminus Team – for now. “The rate that thing’s degrading you’ll get your wish in a couple of hours tops. I pulled Liu Xi from where we tracked her in the caves under the mansion but she’s not even conscious to tell us how she triggered that thing in the first place.” “It saved our butts for sure though,” Trickshot added, joining the others on the watch. “Gave us the moment we needed to patch ourselves up and get ready for the last act.” He glanced at CSFB! “Glad you came ta join us, kid. Wouldn’t be a great last stand without somebody to quote Butch and Sundance.” “I can do Thelma and Louise,” Yuki offered. “I’d pay good money to watch you do Thelma and Louise,” snickered CSFB! “Don’t make me hurt you when you’re dying of anti-Obedience Brand treatment ,” the cyborg PI replied. “Seriously,” Dreamcatcher Foxglove said, “I hope the shield keeps this thing dormant long enough for me to get a few licks in on the bad guys. That’s the way I’d like to go.” “Are you in a lot of pain right now?” Tricky wondered, noticing the sheen on sweat on the wired wonder’s skin. “It’s cool. Don’t tell Hatty but I popped a couple of balls of peyote that my dad gave me and it’s taking the edge off.” CrazySugarFreakBoy! looked around him. “But I keep smelling campfires and seeing firelight shadows. Weird.” The heroes stood and watched the night fade away and waited for the last battle. It's dangerous to be right when the government is wrong. Francois Marie Arouet Voltaire Five Months Ago: “Widespread,” Yuki Shiro told the Legion. “Hard to prove, but there seems to be all kinds of pressure being brought to bear on Congressmen and Senators to push SR 1066 through the Houses. Bribes, blackmail, maybe even threats.” The cyborg P.I. had been impressed by how many resources the team she’d joined actually had. Lots of people owed the Lair Legion a favour and they had access to some very esoteric information gathering methods when they needed them. “This is starting to get scary,” Visionary admitted. “Are you saying they might actually have a chance of enacting this nasty law?” Trickshot explained where Herbert P. Garrick and his colleagues could locate their legislation. “There’s a real chance this might happen,” De Brown Streak warned the others. “They’ll be coming after all of us, just for doing the right thing.” “We still haven’t got to the bottom of what happened in Washington to set all of this in motion,” Hatman observed. “There are stories that the entire first team of the Federal Metahuman Resource Centre got wiped out, but nobody’s talking.” “Does anyone really think this hasn’t got something to do with the Parody Master?” demanded CSFB! “Come on, show of hands!” “It is to be very convenient that is heroes of Earthing to be all busy while uncute PM is to be preparing of invading with his uncute armies,” Yo admitted. “If the governments of this planet are preparing to roll over and surrender to him then we cannot allow it,” asserted Lisa Waltz. “We have a duty to stand up for Earth and her people even if the elected governments allow themselves to be bullied and terrified.” “Are you suggesting that we go against the policies of the ruling bodies of the world?” blinked the Librarian worriedly. “If we have to take over to keep people safe, we will,” Lisa shrugged. The first lady of the Lair Legion smiled. “It’s not like I haven’t run planets before.” “That’s not funny,” said Mr Epitome. “The will of the people is sovereign, even over superheroes.” “Only if the government is serving the will of the people,” Dancer pointed out. “Who stands up for what’s right if the people who are supposed to do that sell out?” “Taking over a country is a very slippery path,” pointed out spiffy. “And you know I’m speaking from experience. If the Legion had to… to do that, they’d never forgive you. It would be the end.” “And totally Squadron Supreme,” added CSFB! “Who watches the Watchmen? Apart from Alan Moore, I mean.” “But if these bozos are rollin’ over and selling out then we gotta do something,” objected Trickshot. “We gotta… fight… someone.” “It’s not as easy as all that,” Mr Epitome warned. “This is the most dangerous conversation we have ever had.” “And you’re going to turn us in to the thought police?” accused DBS. “Thank you, everybody,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton interrupted the argument as it was growing heated. “To summarise: we are growing concerned that Special Resolution 1066, the Freedom and Patriot Act, might become law. We’re concerned that it might get passed because of unfair coercion and general unsportin’ness on behalf of the ungodly. We’re concerned that this might be a front for that loathsome carbuncle the Parody Master to try and take over the Earth by neutralising the superheroes that would otherwise oppose the blighter. And we’re generally reluctant to allow that to happen. Yes?” “In general, yes,” agreed Al B. Harper. “But what…” “Jolly good then,” Mumphrey rolled on. “In that case we hope for the best and plan for the worst, what?” “The worst being Lisa taking over the planet?” Yuki checked. “It is not a good idea to enslave anybody,” the Shoggoth mentioned on principle. “This is the opposite of that,” CSFB! argued. “This is the Rebel Alliance taking on the Death Star!” “This is borderline treason,” Mr Epitome pointed out. “It is a serious matter,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton agreed. “And for that reason I suggest we proceed as an organisation only by unanimous agreement. Individual members are at liberty to do as they feel fit, of course, but I propose that only if we are all united in a common view should we mobilise the considerable resources of the Lair Legion to address this situation. And it should be a graduated response, in proportion to whatever happens in the wider world.” “And then we take over the planet?” the Shoggoth asked. “This will be the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done,” Visionary warned. “This will require some very careful planning,” Mumphrey warned everybody. “So here’s what we are going to do…” Those who make peaceful change impossible will make violent revolution inevitable. John F. Kennedy Now: “What are we going to so?” asked Beverly Campbell as the smoke cleared in the skies above Badripoor. “Well that depends,” spiffy, president of the rogue Pacific nation-state answered, “based on what the hell you people did to my city?” Letitia Gahahan, the Idiom, stabbed a few buttons on her diagnostic wristpad. “Well,” she noted, “it appears that a random freak interaction of various vector forces and esoteric particles has combined to trigger a metamorphic effect on the dimensions of Badripoor, causing a mass/density readjustment vis a vis the wider omnisphere,” she explained. “And what the hell did you do to my city?” spiffy demanded. Glitch, transforming robot from a distant galaxy, translated. “There was a screw up and the whole city got shrunk to be about eighteen inches tall. But the good news is that we’re still protected by a teeny tiny force dome, so we’re not going to immediately die.” “Size doesn’t matter anyhow,” Fetish Lad comforted Mark Hopkins. “It’s what you do with your metropolis that counts.” “So here we are inside the bottled city of Badripoor,” Kerry Shepherdson summarised, “safe from all the serious people with interesting heavy artillery who want to blow us all the shreds, but anybody could wander along and carry us away under their arm?” “The adversary will surely imagine that we have been annihilated by the barrage,” Captain Courageous observed. “This may be the most fortunate turn of events we could have hoped for.” “So we just stay like this for a while then get Banjoooo to zap us back to full size when the soldiers go home?” Ham-Boy suggested. “I like it.” “Um,” said the King of the Sea Monkeys uncomfortably. “Um,” Kid Produce noted, handling a cucumber in a dangerous manner. “Um what?” “Um, I don’t have the power of enlarging cities,” Banjooooo explained. “We sea monkey royalty sometimes get temporary powers, but then they go again. Also I’m kind of becoming human and losing my sea monkeyness anyhow.” “I’d just like to say,” Uuuuukelele, princess of the sea monkeys added, “that this is totally not my fault.” “How is it not your fault?” Fashion Accessory accused her. “Weren’t you the one invading and all that anyhow? And what are you trying to say with that tiara and ear-rings look anyway?” “And what was with that whole I-belong-to-Danny thing you were mouthing earlier?” demanded Kerry. “That was nothing,” Denial said quickly. “Nothing to worry about at all. Let’s move on.” The whole city rocked. “We hast been picked up,” Harlagaz guessed. “We hath been found.” “But by who?” Glory barked. The giant face of Hacker Nine looked down at them through the bell-shaped force field. “Ack!” winced FA. “Zits!” “Okay, kid,” the master sergeant shouted, “put down the bottled city and step away.” Zack Zelnitz clutched the scaled down Badripoor in his arms. “I can’t do that,” he answered. “My friends are all inside. Well, my ex-friends. But I can’t let you have them.” “Would a sucking chest wound help convince you?” the soldier asked. “Don’t shoot,” H9 worried. “I was only following orders.” “Whose orders?” demanded the master sergeant. The cloaked cowled figure swirled out of the smoke from the mortar fire. “The orders of… the Hooded Hood!” Civil disobedience becomes a sacred duty when the state becomes lawless or corrupt. Mahatma Gandhi Four Months Ago: “The SR 1066 programme is operating on a number of fronts,” Hatman reported. “The media is being controlled and manipulated. People aren’t getting the truth. All broadcasts are being edited and censored.” “Welcome to 1984,” muttered CrazySugarFreakBoy! “A terror campaign is being promulgated using the Metawatch organisation and via some Special Protocols Against Metahumans,” the capped crusader went on. “There’s also something happening at COPE – the Committee for the Occulation of Paranormal Experiences.” “Bozos all,” snorted Trickshot disdainfully. “There’s a campaign of political blackmail and terror being used in the US and in many other nations as well,” Hatman went on. “We’re seeing corruption and extortion on a massive scale, so vast it’s hard to prove and harder to prosecute.” “Seen this before,” scowled Sir Mumphrey Wilton. “Berlin in the 1930s.” “And look how well that turned out,” Dancer pointed out. “Don’t forget the build up of armed and metahuman forces to use as strike teams,” Mr Epitome added, gesturing to the files he’d provided. “An army that is likely to be used on dissident metahumans.” “I’m proud to be considered a dissident metahuman,” Lee Bookman admitted. “I’d prefer to be a metaentity,” bubbled the Shoggoth. “I can’t do the internal plumbing you humans insist on affecting.” Yuki keyed up a flow diagram on the monitor screen. “So here are the runners and riders amongst the bad guys,” she declared. “What are we going to do about them?” “The first question,” noted Sir Mumphrey, “is whether we are all agreed that something needs to be done.” And he glanced around the table. “Well sure,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! was the first to speak. “These guys are going totally Darth Vader dark side. We need to stop them.” “Justice before law,” agreed Trickshot. “I always wanted to be Robin Hood.” “I don’t know we’ll be robbing from the rich,” Al B. Harper chimed in. “But yes, this needs stopping.” “They’re being mean and unfair,” Dancer agreed. “We’ll have to do something.” “This will end badly,” Vizh pointed out. “But I’ll do what I must to keep the Juniors free.” “You know I’m up for this,” Lisa told the eccentric Englishman at the head of the table. “We all know where this is going. Let’s accept that and make sure we do things right.” “We may not have to go that far,” argued the Librarian. “But if we have to, I’ll support it.” “Yo is saying yes to be stopping of uncute bad-doing peoples.” “Sounds fun,” agreed Yuki. “Let’s go.” “Government structures are so ephemeral,” mused the Shoggoth. “Just like you mortals, really. Except with less gooey parts.” “It’s a serious thing we’re considering,” Hatman commented. “I don’t take challenging elected authority lightly. But it is the duty of every citizen to preserve freedom and liberty.” That left Mr Epitome. “Well?” CSFB! challenged. “How big a butthead are you going to be today?” “Where are you going to stand, Dominic?” Dancer asked him. Mr Epitome considered this. “In the rocket’s red glare,” he replied; and his eyes blazed. Elections belong to the people. It is their decision. If they decide to turn their back on the fire and burn their behinds, then they will just have to sit on their blisters. Abraham Lincoln Now: Mr Epitome looked in puzzlement at the fang Donar had dropped on his desk. The tooth was almost nine inches long, and it had been wrenched out at the root. “Um…?” “Tis a snarlinggriff,” the hemigod of thunder explained. “Mine first.” “It’s very… mythological,” agreed Dominic Clancy. He moved it off the Constitution of the United States of America that he was reading. “Was there a special reason you wanted to see me?” Donar picked up the snarlinggriff tooth and placed it back on the book. “I wast nine when I didst creep out from yon palace and hunteth yon beastie against mine father’s instructions,” he went on. “Twas a mighty struggle for one so young as I, and I wast mightily whompethed thereafter by mine All-Pappy. But I still hast the fang of yon beast. For the rest, he tasted liketh unto chicken.” Mr Epitome wondered by Donar had chosen this moment for show and tell. “It’s very clearly an important symbol to you,” he agreed. “Tis so. I want you to have it.” The brought the paragon of power up short. “Why? We’re not exactly close.” Donar tapped the book Epitome was studying. “We all hast our symbols,” he answered. “The things that remind us of the moments that made us what we are. Today you art about to test what it is that you are, and you need your talismans to steer your true course. I would have you carry one of mine also.” Mr Epitome looked down at the tooth and the book, then quietly placed them both in his belt pouches. “What do you know so far?” Lisa asked Al B. “I know what should have happened,” the archscientist told the first lady of the Lair Legion. “Kinki the Conqueress and I became lovers. Before she left she was supposed to get pregnant. She goes back into the future, probably to her father’s pandimensional spaceport Starcross, and gives birth to our son, Cody. Then she abandons him a few years in the past – our past now – where he grows up as an orphan until he discovers who his dad is.” “But something happened to change the timeline, and Cody never happened.” “Miss F kind of prematurely tossed Kinki on her ear, I think,” Al considered. “In fairness, Miss F is pretty upset about wiping Cody. So after this Parody Master nonsense I need to locate Kinki, convince her to have Cody, and set everything right again.” “Doesn’t that involve inventing time travel, locating your girlfriend somewhere in all of time and space, getting past Wang the Conqueror’s security systems in a stronghold he’s managed to hide even from the Parody Master, and then winning the heart of one of the most ruthless women in the universe?” “Yes,” agreed Al. Lisa grinned. “Fair enough. I like a man who’s not afraid to take on a challenge. I think you might just do it.” “Thanks, Lisa. Somehow you always know how to cheer a guy up when he’s having a crisis of confidence.” “My speciality,” amorous advocatrix assured him. “Now pull your pants on, get out of this bed, and let’s go do the impossible.” When he’d finished carrying the captured Sentinoid operators into secure containment in the Alien Zoo, ManMan found Dancer and Uhuna arguing in the Lair Infirmary. “What’s going on?” he wondered. “I’m not leaving,” Princess Uhunalura of the Abhumans insisted. “The Lair Legion are going to get hurt. I’m not going to run away and let them go uncared for.” “This place is going to get very dangerous very soon,” Ebony of Nubilia, the Shoggoth’s high priestess, pointed out. “A handful of Legionnaires will be keeping their adversaries away from Al B. Harper in the Operations Room for as long as possible, but the odds are overwhelming. They will fall and they will die.” “Then I’ll die with them,” Uhuna answered, her elfin face set and determined. “I mean it. I’m not abandoning them now. Ever since Josh left, and Bill before him, I’ve been nothing but a spare part round here. Well now I’m needed, and if that means I die again…” “How would she get out anyway?” ManMan wondered. “What with, you know, the big barrier and the big supervillains.” “Through the ghoul tunnels,” Knifey suggested. “The ancient mystic passageways beneath the island. After all, the Underwar that was supposed to block them has been damped down.” “Exactly,” Dancer agreed. “Mumphrey and Citizen Z are leaving that way as soon as the Celestian barrier fades, guided by Ebony, and they’ll be carrying Liu Xi with them. ManMan’s frown increased. “Sir Mumphrey’s bailing?” “I expect we’re the diversion,” Knifey explained. “While he’s doing something clever.” “Yes,” agreed Dancer. “The seven of us get to fight the supervillains while…” “Hold it. Seven of us? Where’s the rest of the Legion while we’re taking on the biggest horde of metahumans ever assembled in history?” Dancer told him. There can be no daily democracy without daily citizenship. Ralph Nader Three Months Ago: “They will come at us with everything they’ve got,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton warned the Lair Legion. “Smear campaigns, blackmail, extortion, bribery, outright threats to us and those we love. It will get very dirty.” “They push, we push back,” CSFB! called out. “They put one of ours in the hospital, we put one of theirs in the morgue. That’s the Chicago way.” “We’ll take precautions, Mumphrey,” Lisa suggested. “But they’re going to turn the media against us.” “Let them,” Dancer suggested. “We don’t need to win the media battle. Only the media war.” “They’ll be trying to take down our infrastructure,” Hatman predicted. “I say we set up some infrastructure for them to attack. Let them think we’re preparing back-up hideouts, hidden bank accounts, secret weapons caches. Give them something to chase.” “And then make ‘em traps,” grinned Trickshot. “Make ‘em waste their forces on th’ red herrings.” “We’ll need to upgrade the island’s defences against Sentinoids and such,” Al B. noted, scribbling on the table top with a marker pen until he caught Mumphrey’s frown. “I have a few ideas,” he finished lamely. “We will need defences,” agreed the Shoggoth. “I will consider what might be done.” The sound of a loathsome elder creature chuckling was quite disturbing. “They’ll doubtless try to infiltrate us,” Mr Epitome noted. “We’ll need to set up counteroperations, screening, misinformation.” “What we need,” Dancer said, “is to let them brand one of us. Then they’ll have somebody on the inside. Except we have to find a way of not actually being, y’know, branded.” “We need to show the world what these bastards are really doing,” CSFB! argued. “Hard evidence, with video footage. And then we need to broadcast it to the whole world.” “Past a media blackout,” Yuki reminded. “Pfeh!” snorted Al B. Harper. “They’ll be coming after us by then with every Sentinoid and bad guy they’ve got,” Hatman anticipated. “Bringeth them on for the nonce,” rumbled Donar. “Twill be a glorious reaving with much smiting and whomping.” “We’ll need a bit more of a plan than that,” Mumphrey suggested. “I have a few ideas on that score. And takin’ on the baddies in battle won’t be enough. We’re going to have to go a step further.” And he looked at Mr Epitome. A patriot must always be ready to defend his country against his government. Edward Abbey Now: Sir Mumphrey Wilton shook hands with the team who were assembled in the Main Hall. “God bless you all,” he told them. “Heroes every one.” Hatman, Yo, Dancer, Manman, Trickshot, Donar, CSFB! and the Manga Shoggoth returned his greetings, said their farewells, then waited for the attack to begin. Around twenty-five thousand miles away, Lee Bookman was carrying his satchel through the Ancient Sciences wing towards landing pad Chaucer and being berated by the Lunar Public Library’s resident artificial intelligence D.D. “You don’t have to go,” she said for the seventh time. “There are other ways.” “Like not going,” added A.L.F.RED, the site’s robotic major domo. “The Governors have called me,” the Librarian answered them. “When I made my Librarian’s oath I promised to always respond to that summons.” “And the last time you got summoned to the Intergalactic Order of Libraries Main Archive they put you on trial for breaking their laws,” D.D. reminded him. “And the time before that they executed you.” “And me,” A.L.F.RED pointed out. “That’s why I’m not taking you this time,” Lee told him. “Look, we’ve delayed as long as we can, but Auditor Blay-Kee will be here in less than a week despite the little detour we arranged for him. He’ll make sure the library services are uninterrupted.” “If he’s not been sent to shut us down,” D.D. warned. “I’ve been transferred, D.D.,” Lee Bookman told her. “I’m not this sector’s Librarian any more. When I know my new assignment, assuming I get a new assignment, I’ll send for you and A.L.F.RED if I possibly can.” “Unless they give you a disciplinary execution,” A.L.F.RED countered. “You can’t count on the Hooded Hood retconning something like that twice.” The Librarian nodded gravely in acknowledgement. “I agree. But I’ve put this off for far too long. If something’s wrong at IOL headquarters then I need to face it. If we Librarians aren’t acting properly in carrying out our trust then I need to say so.” He looked around his former home, saying goodbye. “Somebody needs to take a stand.” “But does it have to be today?” asked D.D. “Right now when the Lair Legion are fighting for their lives?” “It’s an awfully big coincidence that I gat called away at the exact moment that’s happening, don’t you think?” the Librarian replied. “No, I think this is all related. I have to go. You have my permission to relay the information Sir Mumphrey wanted though.” “You’re going. And the words Big Trap don’t come into your head at all?” A.L.F.RED wondered. “Yes, they do,” Lee Bookman replied. Then he allowed himself a very tiny smile. “I just hope I don’t have to use it.” That baffled his companions long enough for him to get into the Galactibus and say his goodbyes. “At least take a couple of micro-nukes to help in your negotiations,” was A.L.F.RED’s parting advice. The robot major domo and the computer hologram watched as the retro spacecraft lifted from the landing platform and shot away to transwarp speed. “He’s going to die,” A.L.F.RED predicted. “Not yet he isn’t,” D.D. said determinedly. “And we still have options. Get the Board Room set up. I’m contacting Dr Blargelslarch and the other Friends of the Library. It’s time for a meeting.” Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote! Benjamin Franklin Xander the Improbable turned away from the viewing screen to dunk his gingerbread in his teacup. He didn’t like gingerbread but the Parody Master had ordered him to enjoy it, and since the master of the mystic crafts was bound by an Obedience Brand to serve the conqueror of galaxies he really had no choice. “How fares the siege?” demanded the Parody Master, sitting on a throne and reviewing his troop weapon productions. “The Celestian barrier is almost gone now,” Xander reported. “The Lair Mansion is surrounded by supervillains just waiting to be able to slip through. A few of the most powerful ones will be able to break in very soon. And they’ll just keep coming.” “I have been most impressed with the Lair Legion’s defence so far.” “Well, they’re tricky,” the master of the mystic crafts replied. “I warned you of that.” “But now they are cornered, trapped like rats in their own home.” Xander considered this. “Maybe,” he shrugged. “I wouldn’t put money on it.” The Parody Master leaned forward, the lights of his interdimensional dreadnaught’s battle bridge reflecting off his gleaming golden armour. “You believe they have a chance?” “Against all those villains? No. But then again, the battle’s not about defeating four hundred psychotic metahumans. You can be the most powerful person in the universe with the biggest army ever gathered but if you’re in the wrong place and your forces aren’t where they’re needed then you can still lose.” The Parody Master sneered. Without his helmet his handsome bearded face was noble and beautiful, marred only by one old scar on his left cheek. “I am the most powerful person in the universe,” he pointed out. “Yes,” agreed Xander, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shabby red gown. “You believe then that the heroes will flee?” “I believe they’ll do something remarkable,” the master of the mystic crafts warned him. “I’m looking forward to it.” The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any. Alice Walker Slaw, Master of Motown was the first through the barrier onto Lair Island. Trickshot pinned him to human form with a vibratium arrow and ManMan thumped him into unconsciousness. Grit the Granulated Man was next, pressing through the fading barrier as particles of sand straight into the waiting biomass of the Shoggoth. Then Gromm, the Living Flatulence, permeated in and exploded, hurling the heroes back and giving a chance for Anvil Man, Musk Ox, Onslaughter, and Brokenface to push through and form a beach-head. “This is Hatman of the Lair Legion,” Jay Boaz called out, using his sonics cap to project his voice across the churned up landscape of broken Sentinoids and shell holes. “You’re ordered to stand down, or we will have to use potentially lethal force to contain you.” “They can’t stop,” CSFB! told him. “The Obedience Brands compel them. I can feel the pull myself now as the dome weakens. I don’t have long.” Hatman looked at his pale sweating friend. “Dream… I don’t know how to…” “We don’t do the big Kirk-Spock scene, okay,” CSFB! cut in. “Let’s just team-up and hit the villains.” “Right,” agreed Hatman. “Lair Legion, Line Up!” “So when he says it it’s cool and when I say it I’m neoneospiffy,” complained Yuki. Hatman gestured for CSFB! to launch him into the air, then used his sonics cap to down the first wave of incoming villains with a sonic boom. CrazySugarFreakBoy! surged forward, tangling Brokenface in silly string and swinging the steel-jawed murderer round to down Rimshooter and Krotch. Dancer went in quickly to exploit the tangle, downing Uncle Bob and Holy Wedlock. But still the villains surged forward, and then the barrier gave out with an audible pop. CrazySugarFreakBoy! screamed and fell spasming to the floor, scratching at his face. A dozen, then a hundred villains poured from all directions to invade Parody Island. The skies turned black, then roiled with tempest. Suddenly the incoming forces were scattered by the fury of the storm. Lightning lanced down, shattering the causeway bridge, searing through the attackers. Donar Oldmanson rose upon the hurricane winds, his long dark hair whipped by the cataclysm. “Thinkst thyselves mighty?” challenged the heigod of thunder. “Thinkst thy numbers wilt prevail like unto jackals around a wolf?” The sea boiled as the fury of the planet’s lightning seared into it. “Thinkest again, caitiffs,” Donar shouted above the tempest. “Thou hast challenged the Lair Legion, and now thou shalt reap thy due rewards! Let the kid gloves cometh off for the nonce, and let all of Middlegard ring with the sounds of combat!” “That sounds so much better than Lair Legion Line Up,” ManMan pointed out. Hatman sprang into action as soon as the winds died down to mere gale force. “Get Dream to Uhuna at the infirmary!” Hatman called to ManMan. “Everyone else, Operation Nova.” “Jay, are you sure?” Dancer asked. “Last time…” “We need this,” Hatman told her. “Ready?” The Lair Legion shielded their eyes and bodies as their field leader avoided the first charge from Onslaughter and pulled on his Suns cap. “The barrier is gone,” Ebony of Nubilia reported. She pressed her hand through the plane where the ancient tunnel had formerly been impassable. “We may proceed.” “These tunnels have to be a major security risk,” Citizen Z pointed out. “They allow access to the basements of the Mansion.” “Not a problem,” huffed Sir Mumphrey Wilton, who had the unconscious form of Liu Xi slung over his shoulder. “Normally the Mansion wouldn’t allow unpleasant things to find their way in along here, what?” “You make the Mansion sound alive,” CZ noted. “Well, it’s not alive, but it is slightly conscious,” Ebony of Nubilia answered. “The Celestian Space Robots once hid their Sleeping Celestian here, with his cosmic cube. So they placed defences to protect the island against cosmic and occult threats. Defences that are still working.” “Which is why those of us in the Mansion still remember Cody Harper while everyone else has had him erased from their histories.” “Hmph, yes,” agreed Sir Mumphrey. “Tricky business, that. Bound to be some temporal backlash from all of this, you mark my words.” “And this cosmic cube,” checked Zemo, “it’s still under the Mansion?” “Went away years ago,” Mumph told her. “According to the Shaper of Worlds, the Parody Master’s already got it and melted it down in his Infinity Forge.” “Well damn,” said Citizen Z. Ebony led them to the crossroads where the Abyssal Greye, dean of the scholar-ghouls of Gothametropolis, was waiting to guide them through the labyrinth of passageways that wound beneath Parodopolis itself. Greye and Mumphrey met as old friends. “Civil unrest,” the Abyssal reported. “Your preacher friend took Mr Clement’s words to heart. People are remembering their civil liberties and their civil duties. A constitutional crisis. Fascinating stuff.” The long trek ended at a manhole cover that took the escapees out into the light beside the Paradopolis Variety Theatre. A car was waiting for them there. “Leave Liu Xi with me,” Bethany Shellett offered. “I’ll get her to safety.” “Good to see you again, Miss Shellett,” Sir Mumphrey greeted Commissioner Graham’s estranged daughter. “And you too of course, Mr Katz.” “Once a Legionnaire, always a Legionnaire,” grinned the depowered Goldeneyed. “Where to, O glorious leader?” Mumphrey and Citizen Z joined G-Eyed in the fast sports car. “The United Nations, if you’d be so kind,” the eccentric Englishman told him. “Don’t spare the horses.” The bright flare lit up the northern hemisphere, blinding all those on the island who weren’t prepared for the blast. Then the Shoggoth swelled up and rolled forward, multiplying his biomass to grow into a vast wall of sanity-mangling jelly, slithering through more dimensions that was usually considered polite. Dancer barely managed to keep track of the Shoggoth’s motions, racing forward and tumbling around the seething tentacled mass picking off those attackers that she recognised as potentially the most dangerous: Rimshooter, Huntmaster, the Mirror Murderer. Donar caught his breath then headbutted Onslaughter. ManMan took the brief opportunity to hoist the limp, twitching CrazySugarFreakBoy! and haul him back through the door of the Lair Mansion. Uhuna wasn’t waiting in the sick bay, she was right there in the hall. “It’s begun then,” she observed, looking at the pale Dreamcatcher Foxglove. “What’s he saying?” ManMan leaned in to try and catch what CSFB! was mumbling, but it was Knifey that told them. “He’s saying ‘Grandpa?’” Outside the attackers were down to the more powerful amongst them. Googol Volt and Atomic Bumpkin were joining in against Donar as Onslaughter battered him down again and again. HuntingJustice DeathMarrow was trying to bracket Dancer while Razor Ballerina and Manseed hampered the heroine. Yo found him/herself hemmed in by Flashfry, Musk Ox, and Jean-Pierre. Trickshot confused the battle with a stink arrow and a smog arrow. “Everybody trade!” he called out, turning to take down HJDM himself. “Now,” Mr Epitome told Lisa and Yuki. The three struck out from the cover of the wrecked Sentinoid they’d holed up in since before the battle began. And they attacked Donar. “Take that, Ausgardian,” Lisa called out; except she wasn’t dressed in her usual tight leather bustier. Right now she had on a full radiation suit and a power control harness. “Take that?” Yuki objected. “All the bad guys you’ve battled and the best dialogue you can think of is take that?”; except that Yuki currently seemed to be some kind of furred lycanthrope berserker. “It doesn’t matter,” Mr Epitome told them. “Nobody can hear us in this melee anyhow.” The man of might was dressed in a dark caped outfit with a scythe attacked to his wrist. Donar grabbed up all three of them and hurled them in a high parabola half a mile over the water. “Begone, foul felons!” he shouted. “Happy landings!” And so Epitome, Lisa, and Yuki got off the besieged island. Yuki dived down to where she’d concealed the LairSub and the mission began. My notion of democracy is that under it the weakest shall have the same opportunities as the strongest. Gandhi “He is dying.” Uhuna gave an involuntary scream as she heard the voice in her ear. She whirled round, forming a protective crouch over the unconscious CrazySugarFreakBoy!, knowing she was probably about to die. She hadn’t realised that any of the villains had broken the Shoggoth’s protective perimeter yet but it had only been a matter of time. “But of course you could do it,” she realised, looking up at the grey cowl and cape of the Hooded Hood. “Of course. Aren’t I… the Hooded Hood?” answered the villain. “What have you come for?” Uhuna challenged. “To watch your enemy die?” “CrazySugarFreakBoy? No, I’m not interested in him today, Princess. I have come for you.” Uhuna automatically looked the cowled crize czar up and down. He wasn’t bad looking in an archvillainous sort of way. “For me? What do you mean?” “I have a deal for you, Uhunalura. Sign up with me and I’ll take you away from all this.” “I’m not running away and deserting my friends.” “You would give your life to save them, then? To save Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove? Give anything?” “You know I would,” answered Uhuna. The first tears tricked down her cheeks. “He’s slipping away. I don’t know if it’s that the Obedience Brand is such an opposite to the chaos that fuels him usually, or if its that treatment Dr Moo gave us so we’d die rather than be commanded by the brand, or what, but I can’t stop it. I can’t even transfer the brand to myself now it’s woken up. I can’t do anything!” “I can make it possible for you to give him a chance, no more,” the Abhuman’s visitor instructed her. “And I can give you your heart’s desire, to be with William Reed once more.” Uhuna’s crystal eyes flicked up to stare into the green-pupiled gaze of the villain. “How?” “How is not important, Uhuna. I have powers and contacts. I can reunite you with Nats, give you a chance to save CrazySugarFreakBoy! All you have to do is agree to my price.” “And what’s your price?” “I believe you said anything, princess. I require you to sign this contract.” Uhuna looked at the document. “I can’t read it.” “That doesn’t matter. Oh, it needs signing in your blood, by the way.” “My blood?” “Time’s running out, Uhunalura. I can only shield us from the course of events for a limited time. Shortly my power will fail, and then Savagetooth and Fleshcrawler will break in here. They will find you and they will not be kind to you. You will be a long time dying.” Uhuna swallowed hard. “I need to be able to read these.” “You need to make a choice, girl. Sign and gain your heart’s wish or die and doom your friends.” The princess hesitated. “But this… What’s really going on?” CSFB! stirred in his torments. “I know the choice I have to make,” he murmured. Then he died. He who allows oppression, shares the crime. Erasmus Darwin, grandfather of Charles Darwin In a secret bunker beneath the White House the most important men and women in the country met to watch the destruction of the Lair Legion. The President wasn’t included. Edward Gramayre sat at the end of the table. This was his moment of triumph. “Status, General Rott?” “Casualties mounting on Lair Island,” the old soldier reported. “The Lair Legion have stopped playing nice.” “The profiles all anticipated that,” Harmanda Barriere. “There was always going to be a period where the targets pushed back. We should expect the first Legion casualties about now.” “We have reports that Donar is taking a lot of hits,” Dr Farmer noted. “I’m sending Steppenstoat and his forces to neutralise Hatman next.” “Tell Blast Zone he can go to full megatonnage,” Gramayre commanded. “I want to finish this.” “Al, this is Yuki. Do we have a line?” Al B. Harper winced for a moment as a near hit from Blast Zone sent debris falling from the ceiling of the Lair Mansion operations Room, but he flipped the respond switch. “We have contact, Yuki. The transdimensional cable conduit we set up was severed when Liu Xi somehow triggered that barrier, but after the bubble went down I was able to program the last of the mansion nanobots to rejoin the wires. It’s not a perfect signal, but…” “Do you have access to the Moon Public Library?” Yuki asked impatiently. Al had a habit of getting caught up in long technical explanations and it was usually best to slap him at that point. “Yes. I’m online with D.D. right now.” “And what about the Legion satellites?” “I just powered them up,” the archscientist answered. “I imagine NORAD will be realising they didn’t take out all our orbiting sensor stations.” “And that they can protect themselves against attack,” Yuki smirked. “Okay then. I’m connecting my eyes to your system. What I see, you see.” Al B watched as the main screen flashed to life. “Is that Pennsylvania Avenue?” he asked as he looked at the broad promenade and the distant dome of the White House. “Mr Epitome doesn’t believe in doing anything by halves,” Yuki admitted. “You have to say that about him.” And ahead of her Dominic Clancy strode forward towards the Oval Office to demand government of the people, by the people, for the people; with liberty and justice for all. The remaining neon greens and fluorescent oranges on Dreamcatcher Foxglove’s skin and costume died out, leaving dull washed out hues and deathly grey. Uhuna fumbled to find a pulse, but her Abhuman healing gifts already told her that CrazySugarFreakBoy! was dead. “Dream!” the princess cried out. “Dream!” She stared up. “Can you still save him, Hood? Can you retcon this?” “I have told you, I can give him a chance. No more.” Uhuna jammed the quill into her arm and signed the paper. “Very good,” her cowled visitor declared. “I didn’t know if you really had it in you.” “What now?” Uhuna asked asked. “Draw all the illness you can out of the CrazySugarFreakBoy! Draw the death out of him.” “That’s not possible. My powers can’t transfer death.” “Your powers have been amplified for the moment. You can remove the symptoms that have slain your patient.” “That will kill me.” “You said you’d die for him.” Uhuna reached out her hand. “I did, didn’t I,” she whispered. She touched CSFB!, drawing Dr Moo’s treatment, the infections of the Obedience Brand, the fatigue poisons, the necromancies into her own flesh. “By the way,” the cowled figure next to her said as the Abhuman spasmed in agony, “I’m not the Hooded Hood.” “I know,” Uhuna told her as she fell over dead. “Clever of you,” Regret the Temptress told the corpse as she folded away the pact that Uhuna had signed. “Dead clever.” Blast Zone’s detonation was enough to turn the Lair Island into a sea crater and to knock down all the tower blocks along Paradopolis’ east shore. So it was a good job he was immersed in Shoggoth when he went off. That was only the elder being was vaporised. “Now,” Peter von Doom ordered his minions. “The beings conjured by Koo Koo Ka Choo. Release them to devour the fragmented Shoggoth.” The Legion’s first villain sounded excited. It would be good to have a servitor Shoggoth. On the Lair Island the villains pressed in. VelcroVixen co-ordinated a band of mental-attack types – Pain Hook, Mood Swing, Grrl, Demon Fish, Mystic Morgana, - to down Trickshot and Dancer. Anvil Man and Spleen Splitter came in for the kill. “Back off,” ManMan warned the unstoppable armoured juggernaut and the blade-handed Morshlock. “I’m really not into the Messenger options, but if I have to…” “Indestructible armour,” Anvil Man pointed out, swatting Joe Pepper aside. “And the ability to make things explode. Like your knife.” Anvil Man staggered as the psychic feedback of his attempt seared through him. “Oh, please,” scorned Knifey as ManMan raked him across Anvil Man’s armour leaving a skinning groove on the rusty chestplate. “Like you’re in my league.” Spleen Splitter came at ManMan from behind. Hatman rugby tackled him with a Kiwis hat, then high-kicked him over the roof of the Mansion. “BOOM!” enunciated the Living Statement, and the heroes were blown back through the front of their headquarters to lie crumpled amidst the burning debris. Individual rights are not subject to a public vote; a majority has no right to vote away the rights of a minority; the political function of rights is precisely to protect minorities from oppression by majorities (and the smallest minority on earth is the individual) Ayn Rand “Sir Mumphrey Wilton, I have orders for your immediate arrest on charges of treason and terrorism,” the UN Security Chief warned the eccentric Englishman. Citizen Z reached for her blade but Mumphrey laid a calming hand on her wrist. “Jolly good, Basil. And?” “And if you come this way I’ll instead take you to the meeting of the full council of the UN you asked for,” the security chief agreed. “But this had better be exactly what you gave me your word it would be, or I’m dead with you.” “It is, Brigadier,” Sir Mumphrey assured him. “Have your science boffins tune into the TV and channel it to the main hall, would you?” “What channel?” Citizen Z grinned like a wolf behind her mask. “Any channel.” Liberty, Equality, Fraternity! Rallying call of the French Revolution “We interrupt your programming for this special announcement,” Mr Epitome’s pre-recorded voice burst over every TV and radio signal on the planet. “This is a message from the Lair Legion. You have been lied to and cheated, and there are things you do not know. We intend to set that right.” Edward Gramayre spluttered his coffee over the conference table. “What? What is that?” Dr Farmer glared over at the technical desk. “Over-ride broadcast technology,” the terrified engineer reported. “Like what happened in the Transworlds Challenge. This… this looks like the B.A.L.D. showbuster technology based on those old Baron Zemo designs.” “The Lair Legion recently captured a B.A.L.D. European base, didn’t they?” Harmanda Barriere noted. “A seemingly random piece of law enforcement to show they weren’t out of the game yet.” “Shut it down!” Gramayre demanded. “Now!” The technician swallowed hard. “Sir… we can’t!” “Forward!” called Peter von Doom. “Press forward, my allies! Slaughter the Lair Legion!” “We’re on it, old boy,” English Man called back, leading the Frightsome Four in for the kill. “Dr Teeth is hoping for some souvenirs, and I… urk!” Dancer dropped English Man then did something fast and unspeakable to Dr Teeth. “It’s not his teeth he’s got to worry about just now,” Shep added over the commlink. Then she turned to make Garbage Burner’s flamethrower detonate itself over Marker Man. “You were stunned,” Garbage Burner complained. “Beaten.” “C’yeah!” grinned the Probability Dancer. “Next?” And all Peter von Doom’s surveillance equipment simultaneously exploded. “Next?” sneered Tech Spectre, knocking her unconscious as he decloaked then turning his needle gun on ManMan. “That wouldst be me,” suggested Donar, slamming Onslaughter down on top of the unfortunate mercenary. Behind the current battle Yo vanished under a tide of slime from Crapsack./ Only Hatman and Donar stood now between the attacking hordes and the Operations Room where Al B Harper was changing the world. The villains poured in. There were tanks along Pennsylvania Avenue. Mr Epitome walked through them. Yuki watched him, and the world saw what she saw. “Stop right there!” a bullhorn roared. “We are authorised to use deadly force.” Mr Epitome ignored the small arms fire and continued to stride towards the White House. “Fire!” shouted the watch commander. “Scramble special units! Fire!” “We hold these truths…” breathed Mr Epitome as she shrugged off the attacks, “We hold these truths to be self evident.” The Seninoids burst up from the sewers, six of them, with orders to kill. Normally there would be twice that number, but they’d been diverted to the East coast for the Mansion siege. “That all men are created equal,” Dominic Clancy went on as he picked up the first Sentinoid and used it to batter the next. “That they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights,” The sonic cannons hit him them, slamming into him with the force of a speeding jet plane, knocking him to his knees. The remaining Sentinoids gathered round, powering up their laser systems to cut him to shreds. The paragon of power rose again, crumpling the robots to scrap, hurling the fragments to disable the cannons. “That among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,” he continued, trudging on. The world could see the livid scars across his torso. The special forces arrived with Mutate Suppression Guns to take him down. Epitome moved aside with dazzling speed, avoiding the majority of the biogenic pulses, relying on the divine spark that had originally granted him his powers to prevail over weapons designed to destroy other power sources. “That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,” he announced. “Okay,” conceded Yuki as he ploughed forward. “I admit to being very slightly impressed. A little bit.” The Apocalyptian killdroids amongst the passers by decloaked, but before they could deploy Lisa took off the head of their controller with her dimension-ripping whip. “That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government,” Mr Epitome went on, crashing through the gates of the White House, striding towards the Oval Office, “laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.” Exemplary barrelled into him from behind and slammed his heads through the concrete pavement then followed it up by using his own biogenetic manipulation abilities to rip away Epitome’s powers. “Nice speech,” sneered the Director of SPUD. “Somebody should write that down.” Lisa lashed out but Exemplary had already shut down her nervous system at range. The first lady of the Lair Legion collapsed paralysed. Yuki crashed into Exemplary and hammered his nerve points to drop him to his knees. “Well, you’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” snickered Exemplary. “I imagine you think your robot body stops me from using my powers to hurt you.” Exemplary’s fist crushed Yuki’s wrist as if it was paper. “You’re wrong.” Yuki flipped him away but by then he’d already punched out her primary combat computer. Amber had provided him with the specs. The cyborg P.I. staggered as Exemplary came in for the kill. “End of transmission,” he laughed. Epitome’s fist slammed into the back of his head like a meteor strike. “And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.” He completed his quotation from the Declaration of Independence. “I got Harper to fix a defence against you cutting my powers again. Jackass.” Exemplary rose up, bleeding, furious. Mr Epitome hit him again. Of the people, by the people, for the people. All the world watched. Democracy is not something you believe in or a place to hang your hat, but it's something you do. You participate. If you stop doing it, democracy crumbles. Abbie Hoffman “This is a combat simulation of an assault by the interplanetary conqueror the Parody Master,” Lisa’s pre-recorded voice announced over transmission of the video material Rex Regent had given Hatman. “The various scenarios aren’t good for Earth. Each one shows us falling in bloody defeat, easily overwhelmed by the forces of the Parody Master. The governments of with world decided that this information would cause panic so decided secretly on a course to placate the mad tyrant.” Now the Doomherald’s voice filled the airwaves, taped at a secret meeting with the SR 1066 committee. “You’ll be allowed a measure of autonomy. Some of you will even have a good life. Your world won’t be decimated, your population not slaughtered. But you have to bring your superheroes under control. You have to give tribute slaves to the Master. You must be part of his war engine, a productive world in his ever-growing empire. Co-operate and live. Resist and die.” “This is the truth behind the sucks-to-heaven so-called Freedom and Patriotism Act,” CSFB!’s voice carried on. “All a plan to take away our freedoms by people who are in no way patriots. Strip Earth of the one thing the Parody Master is scared of, the only folks who have ever stopped him – the superheroes.” “Without giving you a choice,” Hatman continued, “these people have used terror and deceit, immoral, illegal acts to coerce this unfair legislation into law. Because they fear the Parody Master so much they won’t even consider fighting him, and they would not let you have the truth to decide for yourselves.” Suddenly the broadcast switched the Fleabot’s recording of how Dancer had been captured, the branding of innocent hostages including a small child. “We of the Legion are arrestin’ these man and women who have abused their positions of authority,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton went on. “We’re declaring a worldwide state of emergency. We’re convenin’ the General Assembly of the United Nations to vote on whether to stand against the Parody Master now the truth is out. If the vote is to surrender, then the Legion will stand down and submit to the will of the world. If the vote is to fight, then I pledge that we will struggle to our dying breaths to do what seems impossible and let our human race prevail.” On millions of TV screens across the planet, Mr Epitome beat Exemplary into a pulp then stepped over him to help Lisa across the threshold into the White House. “We can’t hold them,” Hatman gasped, his steel form pounded and torn by the attacks upon it. “They’re getting past us… breaking through…” “It dost not matter any more,” Donar called back, his face a livid bloody pulp. “We hast done the job. Tis a warrior’s lot. Tis a good end.” Al B heard the reinforced door of the Operations Room buckled behind him as the enemy forced their way in. It only took a hairline crack to allow Gromm, the Living Flatulence, to gain access. Al B. Harper took a last breath. The best weapon of a dictatorship is secrecy; the best weapon of a democracy is openness. Edward Teller “Wake up, sunshine,” Izzy Shapiro told Dreamcatcher Foxglove, “you’ve got work to do.” Dreamcatcher Foxglove gulped in a chestful of air. He was alive. The Obedience Brand on his forehead hadn’t atrophied yet. It sensed his renewed self and surged to stifle him. But this was a whole new CrazySugarFreakBoy! The wired wonder grinned. “Wendy?” he called out to his sister PsychoAcidPervGirl!, where she lay stricken and dying a continent away. “You had enough of this?” PAPG! opened her eyes. “Big brother? Hey, you got an upgrade!” “Just because they give you choices don’t mean you got to take them. You with me?” “In a Flash. What now?” “We call in help. Think there’s anybody else out there trying to resist an Obedience Brand? Kat van Horn? The other Gangbusters? Amber St Clare?” “The Bloodreaper,” contributed Gwendolyn Lyons. “Lots of very pissed bad guys. Hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of people across the universe. But none of them can do it.” “None of them are joined to the font of chaos,” CSFB! told her. “Yet.” “But you are joined to it?” “I am it,” grinned CrazySugarFreakBoy! “Let’s see who wants to join the revolution.” “You have to be more powerful than the Parody Master to break an Obedience Brand.” “How about us all being more powerful than him when we band together to break every Obedience Brand?” suggested Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove. “How about that,” agreed PsychoAcidPervGirl.” “And that day dawned,” CSFB! quoted from his beloved Dune, “when Arrakis lay at the hub of the universe with the wheel poised to spin.” And he turned the wheel. Every villain on Parody Island screamed and toppled to the floor. Hatman and Donar exchanged surprised glances. “Didst we just win?” asked Donar. “Get it fixed!” screamed Peter von Doom. “I don’t care what Dancer did to it, fix it! I need to know what’s happening right now!” “Right now,” Trickshot explained to the livid villain, “all of your henchguys have gone sleepy-time, Br’er Tricky has walked through your defences, and now you’re gonna get a spanking.” Freedom without obligation is anarchy. Freedom with obligation is democracy. Earl Riney The President had long since been evacuated but there were armed guards in the Oval Office. Lisa smiled at them. It was nice to be back at the well-remembered desk. “Lay on the floor and spread your arms and legs,” the secret service told the intruders. “Déjà vu,” smirked the amorous advocatrix. “This man’s just walked through half and army and your most powerful superguy to get here,” Yuki pointed out. “Do you really think he’s going to stop now?” “I am going to stop now,” Mr Epitome told her. “The next move is up to the government.” “On the floor!” the security chief shouted. “Now! Now!” An old man came in through the Chief of Staff’s private door told him. “Don’t get your panties all in a bunch, son,” he told the secret service man “It’s just fine.” “Sir!” the officer replied, coming to attention as he recognised the Grey Eminence. “This boy here ain’t the enemy. He’s the liberator. He’s as American as you and me, our living flag in difficult times. I personally guarantee you that he won’t do one thing that’s against the Constitution of these United States. Am I right, Dominic?” “Yes, sir, you are correct.” “And now you want to address the nation live, from the Oval Office, right?” “Yes, sir. The people deserve to know, and to choose.” The Grey Eminence turned to the security chief. “Get this man a chair. Until things get sorted out, you work for him. He’s the acting President of the United States.” “My fellow Americans,” Mr Epitome said live to camera, “You have seen that you have been deceived by wicked men who have corrupted our nation and tired to rob us of the freedoms our forefathers bled to win us. That ends today. Now is the time for all men and women of conscience to stand together. Now is the time to prove we are still worthy of the liberties our founders dreamed of. If America is a great nation, now is when we show that to the world. And beyond.” His eyes burned into the homes of millions of viewers. “Today is the day we choose liberty or death.” “That’s one nation sorted,” Sir Mumphrey told the shocked General Assembly. A few that had been Obedience Branded were even now recovering from the sudden destruction of the control systems that had plagued them. The rest were either learning the truth for the first time or pretending they were. “Question is, does the human race fight for its freedom in the face of almost certain destruction, or do we consent to be slaves for the rest of our existence. Not an easy choice, what? But the choice you have to make for all our peoples, here today.” Citizen Z turned to the Secretary General. “We’re asking that all metahuman registration legislation be annulled. We’re asking that Earth agree to a single command structure to co-ordinate defence against the Parody Master.” She glanced across at the eccentric Englishman. “We’re nominating Sir Mumphrey Wilton as the supreme commander of the allied Earth forces, with absolute power to do what’s necessary to ensure Earth’s survival and prosecute a war to the destruction of the Parody Master.” “Wait a moment…” Mumphrey objected. “That wasn’t…” “Who do you trust more?” Citizen Z challenged the assembly. “Hatman can lead the Lair Legion. Hatman or whoever proves able to do the job should he fall. You need Mumphrey Wilton. You know you do.” She turned back to the podium. “Mr Secretary General, frame a proposal and call a vote.” Yuki Shiro ripped through the metal security door with her remaining good arm. She strode past formerly-branded guards who were still crawling around stunned. She kicked open the entrance to the council chamber. “He’s gone,” Harmanda Barriere said. “Gramayre, I mean. Faded away as soon as it became clear this operation had failed.” “We however, will stand accountable,” General Rott said with some pride. “If a court of enquiry determines that some of us acted illegally, then so be it.” “I was Obedience Branded,” Dr Vicki Farmer told them. “I’m sure many of us were.” “Of course you were,” spat Lisa sceptically. “Get out. I have a nation to run.” And she opened the Booke of the Law. “Uhuna!” ManMan called out, finding the fallen princess in the wreckage. “She’s not breathing!” “Joe,” Knifey warned him. “She’s dead.” “Master,” Regret told Nats as the newest Hell-Lord tried to concentrate on his latest shipment of Grant Morrison comics. “I have some bad news…” The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. Thomas Jefferson “What’s going on,” the deck commander of the Triumph of Destiny asked, puzzled. “I’m getting very confusing readings from Earth. And I’ve lost contact with the Doomherald.” “Don’t worry,” Xander the Improbable told him. “Leave this to me. Open a communications channel to all dreadnaughts and planetary command and control centres then clear the command deck.” “Sir?” “Parody Master’s orders. Do you want to feel the wrath of his inquisition?” The command deck was hastily evacuated. Xander lounged in the communications chair. “This is a priority one command from Xander on behalf of the Parody Master himself,” he warned. “Your ship has been chosen for a special mission, of vital importance to the war effort. You will proceed to the co-ordinates now being transmitted to you. You will maintain complete communications silence until you get there. If you see any other vessel purporting to be a ship of the fleet your orders are to engage and destroy it.” Xander paused to programme in the location of a distant black hole. “Ground commanders, the Parody Master wishes to test the loyalty of native populations. You are ordered to shut down all defence procedures, to disassemble all weapons from the largest cannon to the smallest handgun, and to announce when you have done so to local resistance fighters. Not are you to make any active resistance yourselves should they choose to attack. Remember, the Parody Master is counting on your obedience to his commands. You will remain incommunicado from this time on, and only accept new orders if accompanied by the code I am now sending you.” Xander grinned wickedly. “In particular, beware evil clones of our beloved Parody priests. By all means nail them to things if you should come across any.” The sorcerer supreme flicked another channel. “Avatar, the Master reports that his elite forces the Singularity Riders have turned against him. Your orders are to spend every last Avawarrior if necessary to destroy them. Carry on.” Then Xander shuffled out of the command deck, whistling the tune to The Great Escape as he went. He ordered a personal shuttle to be prepared for him and left a final message for the Parody Master before he departed. “Just give him this,” the master of the mystic crafts instructed, handing over the folded piece of paper. It had two words written on it: You lose. Nobody could annoy all-powerful archvillains as much as Xander the Improbable. This meant war. Next Time: The loose ends of our SR 1066 arc get tied up, the Legion come to terms with what’s happened, and the nations of the world make their decisions; but mostly we learn what’s happening with the Quest for Naari and a few other exotic developments. A change of pace in Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Dreams and Fantasies. Tie-ins to this chapter include: The Cosmic Catch-22 by CrazySugarFreakBoy! Opportunities by Killer Shrike Give me Footnotes Or Give Me Death: I thought about comprehensive footnotes for this chapter, and then I decided I’d prefer to stay sane. However, for ease of anyone wanting to reference this chapter in work of their own, a few notes about my intentions. This story leaves us one week off the Parody master’s deadline for the acquiescence of Earth. In that time the UN will make a decision about whether to resist or surrender. Surrender involved disarmament of metahuman weapons, offering up seven chosen brides, and surrendering certain important artefacts. We should know in around three or four days time – during the course of UT#274 – what their decision is. We also have the option of adding in a round robin theme week before we head into another big storyline. The “temporal disturbance” Mumphrey mentions might offer some interesting possibilities if folks want to try a short multi-author series. UT#275 probably launches the Parody War proper (of which SR 1066 was intended to be an introduction, just as Transworlds Challenge was supposed to preface the Hellraisers arc). It’ll start one week after the events of #273, so anybody who wants to cover some “downtime” and interaction stuff can slot things in there. That said, there are a couple of outstanding plots that will drag into the start of the Parody War arc. Vizh and his team are still away with the Fairies, and the bottle city of Badripoor is missing and unaccounted for; in fact no-one even knows what happened to it. I expected the SR1066 arc to run for six or eight chapters, and it’s stretched to twenty-three. I’m a bit worried about the Parody War since I’m expecting that to conclude at or after UT#300 already. Consider yourselves warned. 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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