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Post By The Hooded Hood dips into controversy to set the blood boiling Fri Oct 06, 2006 at 05:36:46 am EDT |
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#291: Untold Tales of the Parody War: Homeland Security Blues (and Greens) | |
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| #291: Untold Tales of the Parody War: Homeland Security Blues (and Greens) Previously: The universe-conquering Parody Master is being kept from Earth’s solar system (save for a few hundred thousand stray forces loose in China) by an ancient Celestian barrier. The force screen is being maintained only by the constant presence of Goldeneyed (Bry Katz) in the dimensional doorway beneath the Lair Mansion, where he remains trapped, albeit tended by his friend the schoolteacher Bethany Shellett. The barrier can be weakened by certain electromagnetic frequencies, requiring intermittent power blackouts across the planet when the dimensional conditions make the slowly-weakening barrier especially vulnerable. It also makes the field vulnerable to high-energy sabotage. One such breach was attempted by cultists amongst the world’s robot community, using their own internal power sources to attempt a rift. The US government and many others have responded by demanding the destruction or internment of all sapient robots. Other nations have resisted the detention and are acting as safe havens for those robots who seek refuge there. The Lair Legion has arranged the robots’ confinement within the digital virtual reality controlled by Hallie’s computer systems, a solution the A.I. herself is far from happy about. Meanwhile, the Legion itself is exhausted and divided. Recent decisions such as demanding ManMan’s resignation from the team for use of unnecessary lethal force, events like the disappearance of the woman Donar believed to be the reincarnation of his missing wife Queen Annj, and the appearance of Al B. Harper’s future daughter Kara to replace his time-wiped son Cody have only made a fraught situation worse. As for other new developments, check No Going Back Now (by CSFB!) for a situation which is likely to change CrazySugarFreakBoy! forever.  “Fleabot,” Vizh begged the defiant robotic flea on the lab bench, “be reasonable.” “Why should I be the exception?” the micro-robot demanded, fisting his forelegs onto his hips. His antennae waggled in agitation as he glared at the people in the VR lab. “Everyone else is being an ass. I should get a turn too.” “Nobody wants to intern you as a security risk,” Hallie pointed out to him. “Hatty got you an exemption, same as he covered me and Catbot.” “I don’t want an exemption,” Fleabot replied firmly. “If the American government thinks that all robots are untrustworthy enough to deserve locking away so we can’t whip up back door invasion points for the Parody Master then they’d better lock me away as well. I was created by an archvillain as a search and destroy weapon. I could do a barrier-piercing exemption field better than just about anybody.” “But we know you won’t,” pointed out Dancer. “You’d never do anything like that.” Fleabot waggled an arm at the huge data storage vault where Hallie was maintaining a vast artificial reality into which all the interned robo-sapiens had been digitised. “I’m pretty sure almost all of the folks you zapped into there wouldn’t do it either but it’s not stopped you locking them up anyhow, without any evidence or trial.” “That’s not the same,” argued Yuki Shiro. Although she had a robotic body she had a human brain so she was exempt from the legislation. “Nobody’s even sure where those self-replicating Robo-Americans came from. And a lot of them have decided to stop passing as human in urban settings and have get themselves souped up as unashamed war machines. The Machine Shop…” “Sure, all the dangerous robots would be first in line to report to the detention centres you’ve set up,” snorted Fleabot. “This whole internment is a crock, a mistake, and you know it. You people need to learn from the lessons of history.” “It’s not an ideal solution,” Hallie agreed. “I can’t say I’m happy to get back from the Mythlands and find my data storage bays clogged up with thousands of digitised robots living in my virtual environment. But some nations are just hunting down their robot life forms and slagging them.” “And some are respecting their rights,” Fleabot argued. “The right of all sentient beings not to have their liberties curtailed without just cause.” Vizh nodded reluctantly. “If this was, say, black people who were being locked away just because a few black folks had done acts of terror we’d be looking at this entirely differently.” “Robots have very limited rights in law,” Lisa pointed out. “So did black people once,” Dancer countered. “So did women. They got treated like property. Then eventually we did what was right.” “And now we have Aagrah in the Afternoon,” Vizh added. “But even so, Dancer has a point.” “Nobody’s happy about the detentions, Fleabot,” said Yuki. “It’s a tough judgement call. But we are talking about the future of the Earth here. We can’t take risks.” “It’s not bad in there for them,” Hallie argued a little uncertainly. “I’ve set the environment to perfectly replicate Willingham. It’s a lovely community.” “A lack of barbed wire doesn’t stop it being a concentration camp,” Fleabot snapped. “And it doesn’t stop you being a collaborator, Hallie.” Hallie’s green-skinned hologram flushed. “Don’t get on your moral high horse with me, Fleabot. At least I’m working to try and find a solution, not opting out by making some futile pointless protest and sulking when I could be helping fight the Parody War.” “You’re still thinking these human bozos deserve to win that, are you?” challenged Fleabot. “You done a straw poll of the poor shmucks you’ve locked away in virtual roboville?” “Now you’re being ridiculous,” Hallie told him. “Look, you don’t have to be interned. We could use you in the fight. Are you going to see sense or not?” “This shouldn’t be happening,” Vizh told him unhappily. “C’mon Fleabot. Help us out here.” “Are you going to let all those other innocent people out?” the robot flea demanded. “We can’t do that,” said Lisa, tight-lipped. “Well then,” Fleabot growled, hopping over to the digitisation pad, “Energise me.” Hatman looked up as Joe Pepper came into his office. “Oh, Joe. Hi.” The leader of the Lair Legion forced himself to look his former team-mate in the eye. “Come to say goodbye?” “Nope,” ManMan said. “Not really.” “It was nothing personal,” Hatty clarified. “You resigning was the only way to avoid a scandal. The enemies of the team were waiting to prosecute you for murdering Exemplary, wanting to make an example of you to get to us. This way we can use the whole Doomherald possession thing as cover and you get to transfer to the Terminus Team to make it better and be with Widget.” “No,” repeated Joe Pepper. “That’s what I came to say. I won’t resign.” Hatman frowned. “You have to. I already explained…” “Joe’s not going to give in, Hatman,” Knifey added. The talking knife was strapped to ManMan’s rhinestone Elvis belt. “We’ve been talking it over and Joe decided he doesn’t want to quit.” “I don’t care about the scandal, Hatty,” ManMan told him. “If you want me off the team you’ll have to fire me. And I’ll take my day in court. I didn’t do anything wrong by executing Exemplary. Well, nothing that half the Legion wouldn’t have done in my position. I could have been smarter how I handled it, but I did the right thing. So I’m not quietly resigning. I’m here till you get rid of me.” Hatman sank down into his chair. “This isn’t the time for this, Joe,” he sighed. “I just got word of the latest casualties in China. We lost another province and we took some bad hits again. Captain Burkina-Faso is dead. So’s Appendage Man.” “We’ll miss Captain Burkina-Faso,” mourned Knifey. “I’m sorry about all that,” ManMan replied. “Just another reason why you need all the people you can get on this team. Think about it.” He left Hatman to worry. “My name is Ms Tesseract. I’ll be your new conduit from the Shadow Cabinet, Mr Garrick.” The President’s Special Advisor on Metahuman Affairs wasn’t overjoyed. “I thought you people would have drawn your horns in after Sir Mumphrey Wilton politically castrated your man Cromlyn. And then there was that massacre over at the Pentagon.” “Gramayre,” Ms Tessaract corrected. “He’s Edward Gramayre in this identity. And he’s yesterday’s man. A dead man. I am the future.” “If you say so. Your organisation hasn’t exactly been batting a hundred recently, have you? How’d that Special Resolution 1066 thing work out anyhow?” Ms Tessaract frowned slightly. “This is the wrong time for you to grow a spine, Herbert. Spines can be snapped.” “I have a full day,” Garrick told her. “What does the Shadow Cabinet want this time?” “We want a little bloodletting,” Ms Tessaract revealed. “Something to take the wind out of Wilton’s sails and to show we still have the power. Something to make his Lair Legion a little more tractable.” “I’m not going to damage the Legion when they’re our only serious line of defence against the Parody Master’s invasion.” “You’re going to do exactly what we tell you to, Herbert,” Ms Tessaract warned him. “How is your mother doing these days, by the way? Still in that nursing home?” “What do you want?” Bad News Herb asked through gritted teeth. “We want to hand the Lair Legion a world of guilt and knock them off their moral high ground,” the Shadow Cabinet agent replied. “We want to make the world a safer, more controllable place. We want to terminate every robot they have in custody.” The illegal refugee robo-sapiens had holed themselves up in an empty schoolhouse in Valentine, Nebraska, one of the waystations of the underground railroad for fugitive robots heading north to Canada. Al B. Harper’s detection devices had located the fugitives there and a Legion operations team was dispatched to bring them in. Mr Epitome went in first, ripping the roof off the schoolhouse once he’d ascertained with his vision powers that only the runaways were inside. “Unauthorised robo-sapiens,” he called out, “you are ordered to stand down and surrender to lawful detention. Failure to comply immediately will be met with the use of terminal force.” The Manga Shoggoth bubbled up from below the floorboards to clog the room and catch the robots legs in his gooey biomass. “We’re sorry for the inconvenience,” the loathsome elder being bubbled. “It seems as if the brief morals are having some ethical identity issues which require you to be relocated to a different level of existence. But do not fear that this is enslavement. There is a leaflet being produced which explains why this is for your own good.” The four robots looked entirely human. Two were adults, one resembled a child of perhaps eight. The fourth was a baby, clutched in the arms of its terrified mother. “Run,” the male robot told the others. “I’ll try and keep them off you. Go!” “Jack, we can’t just leave you!” shrilled his wife. “We stand or fall together!” “Just go. Save the children.” “Daddyyyy!” shrieked the little girl. “Okay, hold it!” CrazySugarFreakBoy! shouted. “Time out, everybody! I mean it! Everybody chill.” The Shoggoth lowered his biomass’ temperature by fifteen degrees and waited for enlightenment. “That’s it,” Epitome told the robots. “One more move and you’re scrap metal.” “I mean you too, Epitome,” CSFB! snapped. “Shoggy, let them loose. You robots, don’t go running off. We need to talk.” “This isn’t the mission briefing,” Mr Epitome pointed out. “We have three more of these pick-ups to do this morning.” “Well then it’s tough that I’m deputy leader and you’re a faceless grunt who can jerk off in the background then, Clancy,” the wired wonder spat. “Look at these people. They’re terrified.” “These felons,” the paragon of power enunciated, “have defied a legal order by their government – the government of the United States of America – to report to a registration office for lawful confinement at a time of crisis.” “I like the tiny one,” the Shoggoth bubbled, observing the fugitives. “It appears to be an amalgam of data algorithms from the larger two entities, skilfully integrated to form an entirely new life form. Fascinating.” “You stay away from my baby,” the robot woman warned, clutching the infant. “Nobody’s threatening your baby,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! promised her. He pulled off his mask and gawker goggles and walked over to her. “We’re not the bad guys. Heck, I’ve just found out I’m a dad myself.” “Then why do you want to force us into that prison?” Jack demanded. “We’re not traitors. We aren’t criminals. I work as a veterinary assistant. Sandra’s a mystery shopper. We pay our taxes. We don’t hurt anybody.” “Until you defy an order to turn yourself into custody,” Mr Epitome noted. “Why should we trust ourselves to a government that won’t even give us rights?” asked Sandra. “Why should we trust our children to them?” “Just let us go,” Jack begged. “We’re not planning to sell out our planet to the Parody Master. We just want to be left alone.” “Tell us how you were planning to leave the country, and who’s helping you,” Epitome instructed them. “Back off,” CSFB! told his team-mate. “This is our chance to learn more about the so-called underground railroad that is channelling illegal robots to Canada.” The Shoggoth gurgled uncertainly. “This is not proving to be in accord with the explanatory pamphlet,” he rumbled. “No, it’s not,” scowled Dreamcatcher Foxglove. “Not at all. This sucks. This isn’t what heroes should be doing. Not at all.” “This is what we have been ordered to do by our team leader,” Mr Epitome pointed out, “Mr Deputy-Leader.” “Well then this still sucks and Jay is wrong,” CSFB! exploded. “You people - Jack and Sandra. You can go. Run fast, take your kids, get the hell away from this place. Have a great life. Go.” “That’s not the mission,” Mr Epitome objected, moving forward at super-speed to restrain the robots. “It is now,” CSFB! retorted, catching the man of might with the unbreakable wire of his go-go yo-yo. “Stand down!” “Traitor,” replied Epitome. He launched himself forward, twisting to drag CSFB! away from his wall perch by his own yo-yo wire and whiplash him across the schoolhouse. Dream bounced and responded with a barrage of combat candy to throw Epitome off balance, then went in to gum his face with silly string. Epitome ignored it. His arms were pinned with the yo-yo but he was still able to aim a head-butt right at the wired wonder. The Shoggoth enveloped them both in its gelid biomass. “I seem to keep having to do this,” he sighed. “After a while it becomes somewhat tedious.” Jack grabbed his family and raced away across the fields to where the car Reverend Fleetwood had arranged to pick them up was waiting. The telephone was disconnected but it rang anyway. “At last,” Wexford the Dissected Man said, reaching across the bed and grabbing the handset from its cradle. “Yes?” “A decision has been made, Mr Wexford,” the monotone voice at the other end of the line announced. “The Lair Legion’s containment solution for the robot menace is insufficient. There is even doubt that the team will continue to support their own intermediate measures.” Wexford’s hand holding the receiver was coated in transparent plastic, revealing the muscles and blood vessels where his skin had long since been peeled away. “So you want me to what?” “You are to arrange for the destruction of all artificial intelligences in the Lair Legion’s custody, Mr Wexford. For the good of all.” “Okay,” agreed the Dissected Man. “I’m on it.” He replaced the cradle and rolled out of bed, dragging on his long overcoat and reaching for his hat. “Our date will have to be cut short,” he told the cabin maid tied out across the mattress. “I’m sorry I won’t have chance to show you all the things I promised.” The woman twitched and whimpered, but she’d long since lost her mind. “One last fear experience, then,” Wexford told her. He pulled back his sleeve and dragged one of several dozen long steel pins out of his plastic flesh. He clinically drove it through his victim’s eyeball and up into her brain, sending neurological images of horror and pain into her cerebral cortex right up to the moment of her death. “Goodbye hon,” he told her. “I’ll think of you when I get to Paradopolis.” Hallie took a virtual breath and plunged into the virtual world she maintained in the databanks beneath the Lair Mansion. She usually wasn’t this reluctant. She’d made the virtual world her own, developed it far beyond the crude representations created by the now-demolished Movie Gun. She’d honed her artistic abilities there, nurtured her dreams and created a safe haven against the cold outside world. That wasn’t there now. Over ninety percent of her system processing power was going to maintain virtual Willingham, where the matter-to-data digitiser she’d developed to scan items into her artificial reality had been used to sequester nearly three thousand robo-Americans without her consent. Hallie avoided joining them in the virtual fishing village for a moment by stopping off at her office to check her messages. The first one surprised her. “D.D.? We thought you were dead!” A hologram of the Lunar Public Library’s artificial intelligence shimmered into being in Hallie’s virtual study. Hallie immediately noticed that D.D.’s pixellation was much cruder than normal, suggesting some technical problem. “We didn’t die when the Parody Master nuked the moon,” D.D. reported. “Lee’s explaining it all to Mumphrey right now. We dimension-jumped out but got sucked to hell. Lee joined us there. Long story.” “I’m just happy you and Lee are okay. And the others?” D.D. piped a situation brief down into Hallie’s RAM. “My immediate problem is that I’ve got irreplaceable data sitting in the heads of fifteen million brain-fried Avawarriors spread out over the Mare Ingenii,” the A.I. explained. “It won’t last like that forever. A.L.F.RED’s working all out to build us additional storage media but it’s a real race against time.” Hallie did the data storage sums in her head and winced. “Yeah, I see that. I’m sorry I can’t help.” D.D.’s face fell. “You have the largest storage capacity of any facility on Earth.” “And nearly all of it’s filled up right now with digitised robots. I’m the only thing keeping them still in existence. I can’t say I’m delighted about it.” The Lunar Public Library computer sentience nodded resignedly. “I can see that. Okay then. We’ll just have to keep struggling against time. Good luck with your prison.” Al B. Harper looked up from his prototype trans-temporal tracking matrix as Trickshot stormed into his lab. “Well nice going with the robot baby detector, Einstein,” the irritating archer called out. Al mis-hit a key on the sequencing process and had to delete the lot and start again. “What the hell are you talking about now?” he demanded. He’d been working forty-eight hours straight and he wasn’t at his most tolerant. “I mean that rogue robot spy satellite gizmo you whipped up for the Spanish Inquisition managed to track down some innocent robot family with their new kid. Dream refused to arrest ‘em, ended up in a fight with Epitobutt, an’ now they’re down in Hatty’s office for another screaming match. So way to go, science guy. What’s next? Better gas ovens?” Al B. threw down the tuning spoon he’d been using and rose from his desk. “Listen, you microcephalic devolute. That detection apparatus was item thirty-six on a two hundred plus long technical wishlist of miracles I’m supposed to achieve to save this planet from imminent conquest or destruction. I have zero time to ponder the ethical problems of what the hell CSFB! might spaz at next because I’m working on the next impossible thing to keep us from getting pureed by the Parody Master. And all the time I’m still trying to find ways of rescuing Miss Framlicker, another of the growing list of vanishing friends who this team seem happy to consign to the missing persons file because they’re too busy storming around like drama queens and crashing into my lab to flap their mouths off!” Trickshot took a step forward, fist clenching, then stopped. “Aw, sorry Doc,” he sighed. “I’m bein’ a butthead as usual. It ain’t you I’m really mad at. It’s me.” “Well you called the butthead part right,” Al B. snapped. “You’re still blaming yourself for arresting ManMan, right?” “Yeah. And not calling Hatty and Mumph on this whole robot internment thing before it came to this. What’re we gonna do if CSFB! quits? Or maybe Dancer or Vizh?” The archscientist rubbed his temples. His eyes were aching. “I really don’t know,” he answered. “Look, right now I really have a to-do list longer than my academic credentials. I’m not a people person. If you want things sorted out you need to get help from somebody who knows how to do this stuff.” “Yo’s in another dimension.” “I know. That’s still twelve items down the list. Develop interdimensional communications with the Swordrealms.” “Wow. You really are working your way through this stuff,” Trickshot admitted. “When does getting some sleep factor on your agenda?” “Right after I rescue Miss F, recover Cody, and discover the secret of universal peace,” Al B. answered. “Until then…” “Until then I brought you extra-strong coffee,” Kara Harper interrupted, nudging her way past Trickshot to put a steaming mug down on her father’s workbench. “Here you go, dad. Drink it down.” She smiled at him. “I made it specially for you.” “Any transaction of this kind needs to be mutually beneficial,” Rikka Ulz Hagen pointed out to Wexford the Dissected Man. “There has to be something in it for both of us.” The transparent-skinned killer took a step closer to the world’s foremost expert on artificial intelligences. “You scratch my back, I scratch yours?” he suggested. “I’ve got some pins here with some really special fear experiences in them.” “No,” Ulz Hagen answered quickly. “Look, you know I have high level protection. So let’s deal like adults.” Wexford shrugged. “I want to destroy the Lair Legion’s computer database and the virtual reality it maintains to wipe out those thousands of robots that have been digitised into it. What do you want?” “I want to keep Hallie, the Legion’s A.I., alive,” Rikka replied. “I have uses for her.” “Like what?” “My own uses,” the scientist replied. “We have history. And your people should be interested in her too. I believe that clever little bit of code is the key to discovering the mystery weapon that the Parody Master was reportedly searching for in the transdimensional void.” Wexford wasn’t impressed. “So give me a way to blow up the Legion’s computers but keep your pet program running,” he demanded. “I can tell you how to do that,” Ulz Hagen agreed. “But I can’t help you get past Lair Mansion security to physically plant the devices.” “No problem,” smiled the Dissected Man with plastic-covered fleshless lips. “I already got that bit covered.” “I want to talk about security,” Herbert P. Garrick announced to his guests. “Well that’d explain why you asked me tae come and see you then,” Sergeant Argus MacHarridan replied, shifting his hippopotamus bulk on the inadequate office chair. “On account of me bein’ in charge o’ security at the Lair Mansion.” “We’ve already been over this, Garrick,” Yuki Shiro argued. “There are some people the Lair Legion needs to stay in contact with who will never pass a standard security vetting. You just have to live with it.” “Or die with it,” Special Agent Kennedy answered. He was the head of the secret service detail that now tried to protect Lair Island with security protocols similar to those around the White House. “With respect to you Legionnaires, if one of those non-standard people decides to go rogue it’s likely my men who’ll be carried out in body bags.” “We’re vouching for Liu Xi and Lara and the others,” Yuki replied. “You don’t need background vetting and profiling. I’m good at what I do. I can vouch for them.” “Your own background remains something of a mystery,” Garrick reminded the cyborg P.I. “We do have some legitimate concerns…” “Ah’m doin’ th’ security now,” Sergeant MacHarridan interrupted. “Since the Lair Mansion’s cosmic exclusion zone has now been extended across yon solar system there’s enough vulnerabilities tae require extra measures. But if yon Yuki lassie says the Legion’s friends list is fair enough then that’s good fae me.” The Detonator Hippo gave an admiring wide-mouthed grin at the purple-haired detective. “She’s a bonny lassie an’ she kens her demolitions.” “Well that’s a comfort,” said Garrick. “But this isn’t another meeting about the Legion’s irresponsible site admissions policy. It’s not even another Hacker Nine argument.” “Then what?” demanded Yuki. Garrick paused. “I have… reason to suspect that an attempt might be made on the… the existence of those detained robots that are being maintained in the artificial intelligence HALLIE’s virtual reality. I can’t say more than that, but you need to take precautions.” “Verra few folks can get into the cellar regions o’ this Mansion,” MacHarridan assured. “None a’ them dreekit diplomats and spaldy-faced administrators. Hallie and the labs are kept as tight as the cells where we hae the Doomguard locked away.” “That’s true,” agreed Kennedy. “We can add some extra security of course, but it’s already pretty tight. And the A.I. itself has defensive capabilities.” “Herself,” Yuki corrected. “Hallie’s a woman.” “Well,” Garrick concluded, “just take special care, will you? I have no love for these robot lifeforms, but that doesn’t mean I want an unauthorised genocide on my watch.” He swallowed hard. He’d chosen his side. Hallie blinked in at the virtual seafront of Virtual Willingham. The fishing village was remarkably quiet for a virtual Saturday afternoon. The few people who were about shunned their jailor. “Where is everybody?” she asked one of the men sitting on the benches watching the seagulls wheel. “Well you’d know, wouldn’t you,” he answered. Hallie’s database identified him as a mark three urban robot serial number GSX-85567. He called himself Hank Darrow. “You keep tabs on all of us in this place, don’t you?” “I try to respect people’s privacy,” Hallie assured him. “Look, I need to talk with you all. We need to agree on what you want here. Whether this is the right environment. What other facilities you need.” “We get to choose how our prison is decorated?” mark four GST-93480 challenged. “Whoopie-doo!” “I know you’re angry,” Hallie told them. “I’d be angry as well. I am angry. But if you have a better solution say it.” “How about we get recognised as people?” suggested GSX-49095 – Andy Fisher. “How about we get rights accorded to us as sentient beings, get trusted to behave like decent citizens with the presumption of innocence until we’re proved guilty, and get to choose what part we each want to play in defending this world we share against a tyrant even worse than our own government?” “That sounds good to me,” Hallie agreed. “But we need to make a case for it. If we can collate the arguments, document some evidence, I’ll gladly take it as your advocate to Sir Mumphrey Wilton and to the governments of the world.” “Oh yeah, you’re our number one choice for spokesperson!” Hank snorted sarcastically. “Collaborator. Uncle Tom.” “I’m not collaborating,” Hallie replied hotly. “I’m just trying to keep the peace. And keep you all alive.” “By keeping us all reduced to electrons in the pretend world you like to play God in,” Andy accused. “Must feel good, having three thousand slaves to lord it over.” “Now you’re being ridiculous,” Hallie snapped. “Look, this afternoon I want a meeting. Up in the old Fishing Hall. 3pm. Pass the word. Anyone who wants to complain can come and do it then.” She glared at the robots around her. “Anyone who wants to look for a way forward through a sensible solution will be even more welcome.” She blinked out again, fleeing the system and downloading into a Hologram Emitter Drone to have a physical shape. She wanted to be away from the whole virtual world. She huddled down on the sofa and hugged a pillow. After a while she began to cry. “Welcome back,” Citizen Z greeted the Librarian. “I kept this for you.” Lee Bookman accepted the thick file of papers with a puzzled look. “What is it?” “Case notes,” CZ told him. “In your absence I continued to document and file the LL’s activities. I think you’ll find the material is as complete as possible.” The Librarian used his abilities to absorb the contents of the dossier. “Well, that’s really nice work,” he agreed, raising his eyebrows. “You have a genuine talent for data collation.” “De nada,” Citizen Z shrugged. “I’m still trying to find ways of making myself useful round here. I don’t have massive superpowers like some of the Legion, so I try to make up for it in other ways.” “By being smart,” Lee approved. “Same here. I can’t bench press a locomotive but I can try and keep track of the important things.” “And that’s important,” agreed CZ. “Especially when poor Hatty’s not getting very much support or back-up from his current Deputy Leader. I try to help out but…” “You’re wasted just helping out,” the Librarian told her. “Not when you can collate information like this.” CZ affected shyness. “You’re just flattering me,” she answered. “I’ve never thought of myself as Deputy Leader material. But thanks for suggesting it.” Hatman stood behind the desk he shared with CrazySugarFreakBoy and glared at his deputy leader and Mr Epitome. “So what happened?” “The usual,” Epitome answered. “This time it was Foxglove who decided he was more important than the mission and knew better than his government or the law.” “The mission was bogus,” CSFB! shouted back. “I’m a superhero not a storm trooper. We’re supposed to use our brains as well as our fists, you know.” “You disobeyed your orders. Then you attacked me when I tried to carry them out.” “I helped out a scared family who were running for their lives from tyranny. I should never have let you do this damned stupid internment.” “It’s not for you to decide and it’s not for me. That’s why we have legal systems, political processes, elected representatives. A little thing called democracy that you seem to think you’re more important than.” CSFB! rounded on the paragon of power. “I’m also deputy leader of the LL, Darth Vader, so when I told you to let them go you should have saluted and held the door for them!” “No way does your appointment give you the right to decide which missions you feel like doing,” Epitome shouted back. “No way does…” “That’s enough!” Hatman yelled, slamming his fists down on the table. “From both of you. Shut it. I mean it!” The usually calm Jay Boaz was white lipped with fury. “As if we didn’t have enough crap to deal with without dragging more in!” “But Hatty…!” objected Dream. Hatman shut him up with a stab of his finger. “Enough!” He forced himself to calm a little. “Enough.” He glared at the two men, each passionate and defiant, each sure they were right. CSFB! and Epitome glared at each other. Jay Boaz snorted. “Dream, when I made you deputy I asked if you could manage to work with me in charge. You said you could. You’ve just proved you can’t.” “Because it was a bad call you made, Jay. You didn’t see those robot people, how scared they were…” “You just proved you can’t. You just showed how little you think of my judgement, how little you understand what a hard call it was for me to back the internment programme. You just showed you don’t trust me and I can’t trust you.” CrazySugarFreakBoy! flinched a little, but he wasn’t backing down. “Maybe I can’t trust you, Jay, if you think that mission was a good idea.” “Not a good idea,” Mr Epitome argued. “A necessary one. Nobody likes it, but sometimes grown ups have to do things they don’t like.” “And this is the second time the Shoggoth’s had to pull you out of a brawl with a team-mate,” Hatman reminded Dominic Clancy. “Funny how it’s always the other person’s fault.” Mr Epitome sneered. “Not really, given who I have to work with.” “One more incident, Clancy, and that won’t be a problem any more,” Hatman warned. “As for you, CrazySugarFreakBoy!, I’m yanking your deputy leader status and I’m asking you straight out: will you follow my leadership or not?” “Not if you’re wrong,” CSFB! replied. “Then you’re out of here,” replied the leader of the Lair Legion. “This art not the way it ist supposed to be,” complained Donar, hemigod of thunder. “Mine son Harlagaz and his class of Juniors art still missething after falling into yon dimensional rift. Mine team-mates doth bicker and quarrel over moral quandaries liketh unto the denizens of a soap opera. Ausgard doth remain hidden despite mine diligent questing for the nonce. And now word cometh from yon Night Nurse that mine Annj – or mayhap Marion – hath been taken off to hel by yon sorcerous Xander the Improbable. To hel! Tis enough to make mine blood boil and to want to crack ope the world with Mjalcolm’s wrath! Tis enough to send a warrior frothing into the realms of carnage and none might say him nay!” He paused and looked around him. “What sayest thou?” he wondered. But all the Avawarriors lay dead across the snowy wastes and there was nobody left to continue the debate. “What happened to me?” Milton Freebish asked weakly, spitting blood out of his mouth. He was sprawled on a cold cobbled floor in a dark stone vault. “Herringcarp Asylum?” “Where else,” agreed Velcro Vixen. “You were about to die horribly in battle with the Avawarriors in China. The boss arranged for an alternate reality version of you to get it instead.” “The boss? I’m drafted again?” VelcroVixen helped him stagger to his feet. “The boss is reactivating the Purveyors of Peril. Welcome back on the team, Appendage Man.” Bethany Shellett climbed the stairs to her second floor classroom, rotating her shoulder to try and get the kinks out of it. She'd taken to spending her nights down in the caves deep beneath the Lair Mansion where Goldeneyed struggled to maintain the Celestian force field, but the camp bed there was murder on her back. She thought it was worth it to support her friend. It seemed to comfort Bry Katz to have her with him even though she was asleep. She forced herself to brush the cobwebs out of her head and get herself in the mindset to guide seventeen six and seven year olds through elementary reading. She loved her work at St Jude’s Orphanage. No matter how bad the rest of her day was, no matter how hard it was to stay cheerful and supportive for Bry as he struggled with his pain and saved the world, seeing the kids always gave her a buzz. Saturday remedial reading was a special favourite of hers. The children got so excited as the world of words unfolded for them. Wexford the Dissected Man was waiting for her in the classroom. Sister Olive was curled in a foetal position on the floor shuddering and weeping. Seventeen terrified children huddled in the corner. “Ah, there you are,” the plastic-skinned horror greeted Beth as she stood in the doorway. “Come in quickly if you value these lives.” He grinned a lipless gory smile. “We have a lot of interesting experiences ahead of us.” To be continued: Hallie vs Fleabot! ManMan’s choice! CSFB!’s future! Al B.’s coffee! D.D.’s decision! Ham-Boy and the Hooded Hood! And watch Wexford make his bid for nastiest villain in the history of Untold Tales (in the face of some strong competition)! Untold Tales of the Parody War: Prisoners and Hostages, coming as soon as folks have had a chance to weigh in on the controversies. I Footnoted a Dream… The Virtual Realm: Waaaay back, before my time as a reader/poster at the Parodyverse, there was a plotline featuring the League of Regulars (the original name for the Lair Legion) and the infamous Movie Gun. Baron Heinrich Zemo used this weapon to bring movie images to life, and it later proved able to create whole digital worlds. Tied in with this story was HALLIE, a new artificial intelligence created by Dr Ernst Vizhnar in Zemo’s lab from the engrams of murdered computer scientist Helen MacAllister. HALLIE quickly worked out that Zemo wasn’t the wonderful man she’d been programmed to see him as, became independent, and moved in with the Lair Legion to live in their computers. Instrumental in thwarting the Movie Gun plot, Hallie became the guardian of the gun and of the virtual world to which it became the gateway. Vizh would like you all to read more about this in his International Incident The Movie Gun appeared as a plot device in several stories, culminating in the massive round robin Lair Legion Special: The Old Order Changes! and Lair Legion Special: The New Order! in which Nats almost broke the Parodyverse trying to use the Movie Gun for video games. Thereafter the Movie Gun was deemed too dangerous to continue in existence and was disassembled, with the location of different parts known to Hallie, Lisa, NTU-150, and Visionary. It has not been reassembled since. Where Zemo acquired the Movie Gun remains unknown, but its technology has proved difficult to replicate. The three lasting applications from Movie Gun technology have been the virtual reality realm in Hallie’s databanks, the Hologram Emitter Drones (HEDs) that allow Hallie to create hard-light holograms and move about in the physical world, and the digitiser that transforms matter into the virtual world and vice versa (most recently used in the gestation of Miiri’s twins). There have been several challengers for control of the virtual realm, most notably E.D.W.I.N., sometime A.I. replacement for Hallie and secretly an incarnation of the robotic Virtual Zemo/Ultizon. Hallie has prevailed on each occasion. The virtual realm’s use as a containment venue for interned robots was a compromise reluctantly suggested by Mr Epitome and implemented in Hallie’s absence in Faerie. Fleabot was another Zemo design, a prototype espionage/assassin device that again proved unreliable and went rogue. The acerbic micro-robot has camped out at Visionary’s Condo and his Lighthouse pretty much ever since. Sentient Robots: are an established feature of the Parodyverse. First showcased in Fin Fang Foom’s excellent Evil Monkey Special, the urban robots pass as human and live unassuming lives except for their intermittent feud with the immigrant simians from Versalia, formerly led by Evil Monkey. The origin of these self-replicating robots remains unclear, although the robots themselves hold several origin myths including attributing their creation to Dr Weed Wrichards. In addition to the urban robots there are other higher-spec models such as the robotic Canadian law enforcer M.O.U.N.T.-E and less human-looking entities such as the super-powered robotic mercenaries of the Machine Shop. The decision to intern all robots was reluctantly made after a cadre of robot Parody Cultists attempted to cannibalise their own advanced systems to weaken the Celestian barrier protecting the Earth. It has proved a controversial move. Some nations have chosen not to enforce the recommendation. Others have decided to destroy all sentient robots on sight. Yet others have agreed to a middle path of internment, with many making use of the Lair Legion’s virtual reality holding facility. As of this chapter there are around three thousand interned robots in the virtual realm, a thousand or so interned elsewhere across the globe, and an estimated four thousand more unaccounted for or destroyed. Missing Persons: At the moment the Legion has lost contact with Yo and NTU-150 in the Swordrealms because of the Celestian barrier preventing dimensional travel or communication. The Junior Lair Legion and friends – Glory, Kerry Shepherdson, Fashion Accessory, Harlagaz, Glitch, Captain Courageous, Danny Lyle, Kid Produce, and Uuukelele- still managed to fell into a dimensional rift and have been missing some weeks now. Cody Harper, Al’s son from the future by Kinki the Conqueress, vanished when Kinki was thrown out of time by Miss Framlicker, preventing his conception. Cody is trapped with Amazing Guy in Comic Book Limbo where they have discovered the stasis-held forms of Fin Fang Foom and Dan Drury. Kara Harper, Al’s alternative-future daughter, has reported that in her timeline Kinki held Miss Framlicker captive for many years of torment. If Al recovers Cody by restoring his timeline, Kara will be wiped away. Miiri, Con Johnstantine, Tanner, Ruby Waver, Asil, and George Gedney are still caught in Faerie. Sorceress, Fashion Faerie, Leonard Day-Vincent, Zebulon, Exile, and Valeria are also in the Many Coloured Land. Xander and Marion Nightshade have just found their way there. Baddies: Wexford the Dissected Man has been mentioned before but makes his debut appearance here. So does Ms Tesseract, acting for the conspiracy behind conspiracies, the Shadow Cabinet. Rikka Ulz Hagen is the niece of Dr Vizhnar and has inherited the mantle of foremost expert on artificial intelligences on the planet. She is obsessed with his creation Hallie and the two have bitterly clashed several times before. The Purveyors of Peril are a collection of hardcore professional career supervillains. They generally work for the Hooded Hood. This will be their third major incarnation. Beth Shellett is a schoolteacher, best friend to Laurie Leyton (whom Citizen Z is impersonating unknown to Beth), estranged daughter of Commissioner Don Graham, and possible romance interest of Goldeneyed. As of this issue she’s in a lot of trouble. Given recent tragic news stories I’d like to assure readers that however much trouble she’s in (next issue comes with a content warning) the children in her class will make it out okay. Previous chapters may be found at The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Characters are detailed in Who's Who in the Parodyverse Places are described in Where's Where in the Parodyverse 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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