#335: Untold Tales of the Carnifex: Dinner and a Show
 WARNING: This episode includes graphic violence
What has gone before:
With the fall of the mad Parody Master, the Parodyverse was left undefended against the threat that he had originally been created to thwart. Immediately thereafter the Carnifex arrived in the heart of Paradopolis with his mile-high Esqualine Tower. He instantly won the hearts of all as the Parodyverse’s greatest hero and nobody has questioned his appearance, motives, actions, or intent.
After the recent loss of Hatman, Nats, and the Manga Shoggoth in battle the Carnifex has agreed to take leadership of the Lair Legion. He has invited the team to dinner at the Esqualine Tower where he will show them what their future will be – their surprise destruction.
The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom features previous chapters of our story
Who's Who in the Parodyverse lists details of the cast
Where's Where in the Parodyverse covers locations and situations
***
The Parodyverse’s greatest superhero raised his glass of red wine. “A toast,” said the Carnifex, “to the Lair Legion.”
“The Lair Legion,” the men and women around his long oak dining table in the mile-high Esqualine Tower echoed.
Many of them were toasting themselves. As well as what remained of the current line-up of the team after the disastrous end to yesterday’s mission – CrazySugarFreakBoy!, Yuki Shiro, Visionary, Dancer, the Librarian, Al B. Harper – there were many alumni and friends present at this historic dinner. Donar Oldmanson raised a huge flagon and quaffed in salute. spiffy sat between the team he’d helped found and the interns of the Junior-Legion training programme, Kerry Shepherdson, Harlagaz Donarson, and Fashion Accessory, alumni Ham-Boy, and Kerry’s supervillain boyfriend Denial. Sir Mumphrey Wilton echoed the toast with a muttered “Jolly good.”
There were friends and associates of the team present too at this important meeting, the moment when the Carnifex finally joined and took leadership of the Lair Legion. The LL support staff were almost all present – Hallie, Flapjack, Amber St Clare, Asil Ashling. Silicone Sally had flown in from the west coast specially. Icy the Snowman sipped a slushee of his own invention.
Zdenka Zarazoza, Rabid Wolf, sat in a place of honour beside the Carnifex himself. She’d spoken little that evening, as if her thoughts were far away.
“The Lair Legion,” smiled the Carnifex. “Legends in your own lifetime. From your first early assemblings to combat Peter von Doom and Baron Zemo, through your deeds protecting the world from Psychic Mastermind, from the Obliterator, from Galactivac himself, for your struggles with the Hooded Hood, with Ultizon, with the Resolution Prophecy, your deeds in your world tour and the Transworlds Challenge, your desperate stand against the Hellraisers and the demon lords behind them, and of course your destruction of the Parody Master in the Parody War, you have entered into the realms of legends. Your names will be remembered for as long as the Parodyverse endures.”
“Aw shucks,” shrugged spiffy.
“No, it’s true,” promised the Librarian. “The Intergalactic Order of Libraries has a full account of your doings.”
“Of our doings,” Vizh corrected him. “And, um, I hope it’s not going to be a completely full account. I mean, that time with the pregnancy gun…. And that whole Follies of Youth thing…”
“Hey, why miss out the best parts?” Dancer grinned wickedly.
“You’ll be remembered even beyond the end of the Parodyverse,” the Carnifex told them. “I’ve seen the end of many universes, caused most of them, and I always try to preserve the best of what I’ve found there. In my short time here I’ve become very fond of the Parodyverse and its heroes. You’ll have a place of honour in my trophy collection.”
Yuki looked up, puzzled. “Trophy collection?”
Candles and torches burst into flame at the far end of the room.
“Hey, it wasn’t me,” Kerry insisted as her team-mates glanced at her.
The added light illuminated the Carnifex’s trophy wall. Well over a hundred shield-shaped wooden plaques were affixed to the wood panelling, each with a sharp iron spike sticking out from it. Each plaque had a name tastefully engraved on a small brass plate. Each Legionnaire had a place of honour.
“I don’t get it,” Icy admitted. “What are those for?”
Similar flames burned up on the other side of the vast hall. The interior dimensions of the Carnifex’s black stone tower bore little resemblance to the grim tall needle it appeared to be from the outside. The wall now revealed was also filled with plaques, but these spikes were all hidden by the severed heads impaled upon them. Most of the bloody trophies were alien; a few were not.
“What?” gasped Fashion Accessory, although she was not alone in expressing shock or disgust. “Eew!”
“What’s this, sirrah?” demanded Sir Mumphrey Wilton.
“Those things are real,” Hallie observed. “I’m reading Shee-Yar and Xnylonian and Crystaxian and Naicluvian… and human.
“These are enemies of mine,” the Carnifex explained, “were enemies of mine.”
“What did they do?” Ham-Boy choked. “Remind me never to tee you off.”
“Never mind what they did,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! objected. “You don’t tear your enemies heads off and mount them on the wall. Even the Shoggoth doesn’t have a wall.”
“These creatures?” The Carnifex sounded almost dismissive as he flicked a hand to the occupied trophy wall. “Those were just practice. Warm up. Clearing the field of the players of no interest.” He pointed to the other side of the room. “Over there, that’s where the real sport lies. There’s a real pleasure in slowly killing extraordinary and unique heroes.”
“There art what?” demanded Donar, putting down his flagon.
“I’m a man with a mission, I’m afraid,” the Carnifex explained to his surprised, discomfited guests. Only Zdenka stared straight forward with no reaction; of all those present she was the one that the Carnifex’s plausibility field was most focussed upon. “I was sent to your Parodyverse to destroy it, to destroy it in such a way that the purpose for which its creators first ordained it will never be fulfilled, so that the questions it was set in motion to solve will never be answered. No Resolution War. No final conclusion. Just an untimely end.”
“But…” objected Amber St Clare, “you’re the Carnifex!”
“And the Carnifex is an executioner,” the tall man in the leather clothes answered with a cruel grin. “Well, a torturer and executioner. That’s what I’m here to do. But it doesn’t mean we can’t have fun along the way.” He leaned forward towards his guests. “I love to hunt.”
One by one the heroes were casting off the Parodyverse-wide obfuscation that had prevented them making logical connections about the Carnifex for the last year. “You’ve been observing us,” Al B. Harper concluded. “That Moderator thing, and when we had to Save the Future…”
“There should have been a visit from the Sturdy Strolling Beggarly Brotherhood too,” added the Carnifex. “I can’t think what delayed them. Anyway, mostly that phase was to identify and then find ways of neutralising the great powers of your Parodyverse. The cosmic office holders, the natural forces, Lisa Waltz, the Chronicler, Symmetry, Faite, Galactivac, the Pointless, the Hell Lords, the Celestians, none of them can interfere with what happens now, not without causing the very destruction of the thing they’re seeking to save.”
“The Hooded Hood?” challenged Danny Lyle.
The Carnifex pointed to a waiting hook. “But tonight isn’t about all of them. Tonight is dedicated to the Lair Legion. I really am a big admirer and I feel that you should be allowed to go out fighting.”
“Tis only fair,” nodded Harlagaz before looking up sharply. “What?”
“Carnifex turns out to be the big baddie,” CSFB! translated. “No wonder Hatty and Nats and the Shoggoth got lost on that last mission he joined us for!”
“Jay…” mouthed Rabid Wolf, as if in a dream.
“I’ve begun my assault already, of course,” the Carnifex explained. “While you’ve been dining with me here my associates have been visiting your loved ones.”
Visionary rose from the table. “What?”
The Carnifex nodded. “I’d hoped to serve your children up to you at table tonight as the special joint,” he explained. “I think there’s a kind of mythic horror to that kind of thing. But the timings just didn’t pan out, so I’ve sent my agents to kill your kin as they see fit and bring their carcasses here for later. I expect it’ll take quite a bit of torture before you’ll willingly devour that flesh, but I assure you it’s always possible to convince somebody at the end.”
Sir Mumphrey Wilton staggered to his feet, struggling to shake off the last of the psychic restraint. “This will not happen, sirrah,” he vowed, fumbling for his temporal pocketwatch.
The Carnifex shrugged. “The slaughter out there started an hour ago. EEE, the Lighthouse, the Bean and Donut, the Moon Public Library, all gone. Some of your friends and kin are still alive, of course. Torture can’t be rushed. But outside these walls it’s a very different world to the one you knew when you came in for dinner.”
“I knew it!” Flapjack spat. “I knew it was you I saw at the end of that Moderator thing, gloating that you’d caused it all!”
“Of course, to help your survivors you have to survive too, and find ways to escape my Esqualine Tower. That’s not going to be easy, my heroes.”
“Why do I ever accept invitations from the Lair Legion?” Silicone Sally asked herself.
“Escape!” Donar shouted, “’Tis not escape we seek but bloody vengeance.” He too managed to rise, his chair toppling to the stone floor.
The Carnifex chuckled. “There’s no force in this Parodyverse that can harm me now,” he promised. “There was only one defence, a being made at the birth of your universe to guard against me. That was the Parody Master. You killed him. I’m what he guarded against.” He spread his hands out in a gesture of presentation. “Surprise!”
“Lair Legion Line-Up!” shouted spiffy.
The Carnifex stroked Zdenka’s hair. She smiled up at him. “I want this to be a good hunt,” he told his prey, “so I’ll give you a count of three. One.”
He moved around the room faster than most of those present could see. In the blink of an eye Mumphrey’s pocketwatch, CSFB!’s backpack, Al B.’s toolbelt and Hallie’s Holographic Emitter Display were tossed into a far corner; Hallie was trapped inside her disabled carrier device unable to manifest.
“Two.” CSFB!, Yuki, and Asil were already on their feet, but the Carnifex moved again. Within the next second every guest in the room had one shattered limb.
“Three.” The Carnifex slashed his way through the heroes, tearing and rending. He hurled severed tongues from CSFB! and Denial, gouged eyeballs from Dancer and the Librarian, and Yuki Shiro’s main power generator casually onto the table. “Now run!”
The heroes were crippled, scattered, but long training began to asset itself. Donar went in first. The Carnifex ripped out the Ausgardian’s spine.
The Carnifex exploded as Kerry turned on him. spiffy slammed the burning great hunter through his trophy wall. Yuki powered in on the injured enemy hoping to take him down before he could respond.
The Carnifex swatted the damaged cyborg P.I. across the room laughing, rose, and moved. When he’d slowed enough to be seen again he was standing over Amber St Clair’s body affixing her severed head to a spike. “Shame,” the Carnifex mourned. “I’d thought up some really interesting torments for her.”
As CSFB! and Yuki Shiro surged forward he shattered the floor of the dining room, tumbling most of the Legion into the unlit labyrinth below.
“Like I said,” the Carnifex roared, “run!”
***
THIRTEEN HOURS EARLIER…
“And that is when I awoke, screaming,” concluded Vespiir, outcast seeress of Caph. “As the heroes toppled into the darkness wounded and dying, with the Carnifex laughing as they fell.”
Miiri of Earth stroked the girl’s shoulder comfortingly. “Even if it was one of your prophetic dreams we have seen that the future is not immutable,” she reminded the trembling prophetess. “Lord Viisionary and the others are not dead yet.”
“I have seen more,” whispered Vespiir, as if confessing to some terrible deed for which she was responsible. “I saw further, years from now. A wasteland world in a shattered universe where all life was prey for the Carnifex’s sport. A final desperate stand from heroes who are but children today, so defiant then in their last conflicts against the destroyer of the Parodyverse.”
Ebony of Nubilia patted Vespiir’s hand. “It sounds bad, all right. A few hours ago I’d have said what you saw was impossible, mistaken. I mean, the Carnifex… But now…”
Now a great dimming of the obvious has been weakened rumbled the great bubbling blob of protoplasm that had raised sanctuary Lemuria from the sea bed. I smell the denials of the Hooded Hood’s son. His words have weakened the Carnifex’s obfuscation.
“So the Carnifex really is a villain!” Miiri concluded. “Even now it’s hard to believe it, to even contemplate it.”
That is the nature of the glamour, noted the Manga Shoggoth. I can only imagine the levels of power it must possess to be able to divert the attentions of beings such as myself.
“And Lisa and Chronicler and the others,” added Ebony. “No wonder the Shoggoth fragment with the Legion didn’t sense anything.” She looked over at the greater Shoggoth in his ice-cave, surrounded by his DVD collection and flocks of ten-foot high carnivore penguins. “Is he finally destroyed, that offshoot?”
That is not dead which can eternal lie bubbled the elder beast, nor that which can eternally use the truth to deceive.
Mirri looked to see if Vespiir could discern anything from that but the young seeress shrugged helplessly.
“We need to get this information to the Lair Legion before they attend that dinner tonight,” Ebony persuaded the Shoggoth. “We need to warn the Triumvirate.”
The Shoggoth roiled, flicking out pseudopods to taste the weft of reality around him. Now that I know what to look for I can see the Carnifex’s preparations. He has already laid causality snares to prevent the greater powers from intervening. If the Shaper of Worlds or the Chronicler of Stories or the Destroyer of Tales become involved then they will bring about the destruction of all. The same is true for almost all the powers and principalities – including me. The Carnifex has laid his traps well.
Ebony looked up as a rumble of thunder echoed down into the Shoggoth’s cyclopean caverns. “There’s a reality storm brewing too,” she frowned. “It could close the gateways from Lemuria to Earth while it rages. That’s too much of a coincidence.”
“There must be something we can do,” protested Mirri, “some way we could stop this!”
Vespiir looked up suddenly. “The great powers can’t stop it,” she agreed. “But the Carnifex doesn’t understand this Parodyverse. He thinks it’s all about power, and he is the most powerful of all. But it’s never about power. It’s hardly ever those great powers that the stories centre around. It’s always about heroes.”
“The heroes that the Carnifex is going to tear up and murder,” Ebony declared.
Vespiir stood up for the first time in the Shoggoth’s presence. “Lord Master Shoggoth,” she pleaded, “if the gates from Lemuria are closed then only you could send me to Earth to warn the heroes. You could fold me through dimensions and send me to the Tower of Lord Viisionary.”
“It’s a beacon that’s easy to find,” admitted Miiri.
Ebony shook her head. “It’s traumatic travelling via the elder paths through strange dimensions even for a trained mind. Usually the Shoggoth renders people unconscious to shield them from insanity. Carrying a time-sensitive like Vespiir that way, even asleep, would likely shred her mind forever.”
“It doesn’t have to be Vespiir,” argued Miiri. “I can go. I will go. My children…”
“It does have to be me, mistress Miiri,” Vespiir interrupted. “I have seen it, I think. I must walk the Shoggoth-path.” She trembled again but did not flinch. “It is my path to walk.”
Ebony was uncertain. “When you foresaw this, did you see yourself afterwards? Coming home to your tent-sisters? Being safe?”
Vespiir shook her head. “I do not think I ever return to Koodi and the others,” she confessed, “but maybe I can save the heroes. That is a price at which I am content to be sold.”
Ebony was about to object again but Miiri shook her head. “I understand, Vespiir of Raael, honoured and beloved tent-sister. And I thank you.”
This is not going to be pleasant the Shoggoth warned. Interesting, though. And I cannot say how long in mundane ‘time’ it will take for you to arrive, or exactly where. I may have to use detours.
Vespiir balled her fists and squeezed her eyes tight shut. “Send me to Earth.”
***
NINE HOURS AGO…
Sir Mumphrey Wilton always enjoyed the morning sun in the Lair Legion Living Room. He was sat there in his favourite overstuffed armchair grumbling at the cricket scores as he did his Times crossword when Flapjack arrived with his morning tea.
“Thank you,” the eccentric Englishman said as he accepted the Earl Grey.
Flapjack made an elaborate bow that gave an dictionary-perfect illustration of the word obsequious. “Excuse me, your Mumphreyship…” he began.
Mumphrey looked up sharply. “The formal lisp? What is it, man? Speak up!”
“I, er, there’s a delicate matter, your ex-Legion leaderness…”
“See the Night Nurse and get some ointment for it and keep your damned hands away from it till it scabs over.”
“Er, not that delicate matter. There’s something else. Something I, er, happened to see.”
“Give the videotapes back and apologise to the young lady.”
“Not that. Something… something bad.”
Mumphrey put down his paper. Something in the hunchbacked butler’s tone warned that this wasn’t one of his usual confessions. “What is it, lad?”
Flapjack of the Carpathians leaned in so he could whisper. He pointed at Sir Mumphrey’s temporal pocketwatch. “Could you, er, you know…?”
The Keeper of the Chronometer of Infinity stopped time so that nobody could monitor the conversation.
Flapjack relaxed just a little. “Thanks, boss. See, there’s this thing I need to tell you and you’re not going to like it.”
Sir Mumphrey harrumphed warningly.
“You know my former master, right?” began the hunchback.
“Oh, I know Winkelweald,” growled the eccentric Englishman.
“Yeah. And you know that sometimes I kind of temp for him when he needs some kind of toadying or lackeying? Only on my days off, of course.”
“Do you now, sirrah?”
“And you remember how everybody thought he was gone after that thing with the Parody Master but since then there’s been rumours that maybe he isn’t?”
“Yes.”
Flapjack tried an ingratiating gap-toothed smile. “Well, if a butler happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time at the end of that Moderator Saga because he got set up by his former boss and say he happened to see who was really behind that whole thing do you think he should tell somebody about it and who the secret villain was?”
Sir Mumphrey Wilton sighed. “Byzantine continuity and long-hidden secret revelations. The Hooded Hood is back, isn’t he?”
Flapjack bit his bottom lip. “I saw who had set it all up,” he confessed. “I heard him talking with that fake Hatman, that Doorman, sending him to Earth to cause more trouble. I know who caused that Moderator thing, and the whole Saving the Future scenario, and maybe a lot more.”
“Doesn’t feel like Winkelweald,” considered Mumphrey. “Too visceral.”
“It’s not the boss, boss. I mean, the old boss. The old old boss, because technically Hatman is the new boss and you’re the old boss. Except now Hatty’s gone he’s the old boss, you’re the older boss, and the Hood is…”
Sir Mumphrey snapped his steely gaze on the major domo. “Get a grip, man! Who did you see plotting against us? Spit it out!”
A great pressure welled up inside Flapjack to remain silent as he had so far. It was almost overwhelming, but it was now in direct conflict with generations of Carpathian Flapjack servility. “It’s… it was…”
“Stop snivelling like a feckless oik and tell me, dammit!” snapped Sir Mumphrey Wilton.
“It was the Carnifex!” Flapjack blurted. Too late he covered his mouth with his hands to stop him from speaking.
“The Carnifex?” repeated Mumphrey. “That’s ridiculous. He’s the greatest hero in the Parodyverse.”
“It was him,” swore Flapjack. “I mean it. I know you won’t believe me, because he’s the Carnifex and I’m… me, but…”
Sir Mumphrey held up his hand to silence the babbling, terrified butler. “I do believe you. You’re many things, young Flapjack, but you don’t lie about things like this to your masters.”
Flapjack closed his eyes. “The, er, the old boss said I should tell you. The old old boss, that is. The old, old…”
“You can shut up now, Flapjack,” Sir Mumphrey snapped at him. “This is a damned delicate situation. Dangerous too. If what you’re sayin’ is right then we’re in immense danger. All of us. Mortal danger. If the Carnifex even suspects he’s been rumbled…”
Flapjack had been enjoined to silence but he mimed bloody destruction with a great deal of clarity.
“Requires thought,” the eccentric Englishman pondered to himself. “Dashed bad show. Requires serious thought. And a plan.”
***
SEVEN HOURS AGO…
Vespiir screamed and screamed and screamed.
Ebony of Nubilia held her, soothing the seeress until the worst of her shaking subsided, singing her old African lullabies in a low soft voice. Finally Vespiir fell still.. “
“Where are we?” worried Vespiir, looking around the many-angled labyrinth with growing panic. “This doesn’t look like the House of Viisionary.”
“So you’re not insane,” Ebony determined. “You have a strong mind. I tried to protect you from the worst of it but…”
“Where are we?” There was more than a rasp of panic in the girl’s voice. “It’s a wrong place!”
“This is as far as the Shoggoth could project us,” Ebony worried. “I think it’s Earth, or the dimension formerly known as Eden anyhow. I think we might be in the deep elder tunnels where Shabba’Dhabba‘Dhu lurks.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“I’d have to say it isn’t,” the High Priestess of the Manga Shoggoth admitted. “The Groper Out of Grossness sleeps beneath Paradopolis, but even in his dreams he causes the things born around him to mutate in strange ways. There’s the tunnel-dwelling Outcasts, the inbred Morshlocks, and then down here, below that… well, there’s worse things.”
“I don’t like the futures I’m glimpsing,” Vespiir confessed. She struggled up from Ebony’s arms and tried to smooth her gold mesh and silks. “I don’t think.. wait. We have to go that way!”
Ebony didn’t stop to question the prophetess’ words. “Come on then. Hurry.”
They raced away down tunnels that were strangely fleshy underfoot. Ebony came to a halt beside a strange tangle of guts and wire. “Wait!”
“What’s that?” Vespiir ventured, uncertain whether she wanted to know.
“It’s a dimensional working,” Ebony judged. “I’d have to summon the Shoggoth to get the fine detail, and that would be a really bad idea down here, but I’d say it’s some kind of… well, it’s a tiny part of a dimensional shunt magic… designed to shift something as big as a building halfway across the universe.”
“Is it part of that Groper you were talking about?”
“It’s syphoning his energies but it’s been put here by cultists,” Ebony puzzled. Then she frowned. “And it should have some kind of nasty guardian.” She swung round hefting her stave as there was squelching movement further along the corridor.
Vinnie De Soth waved his hands at them. “Hey there! What on Earth are you folks doing down here. Not being sacrificed, I hope?”
“I’m well past being a sacrifice, Vinnie,” Ebony answered. “That said, you didn’t happen to see some kind of monster patrolling round this dimensional working, did you?”
“Um yes, there was a guardian. I kind of zapped it with Azmael’s threefold dismissal then kicked it in the head. At least I hope it was the head. The guardian’s down. That guardian. The other three hundred or so nodes of this working have guardians too.”
“What are you doing here?” Ebony demanded of the young acting sorcerer supreme.
“My job. I got an anonymous tip-off about this rite. You?”
“Trying to deliver Vespiir here to the Lair Mansion urgently. She’s a seeress who’s seen something the Legion need to know about right now. Somebody laid some route detours down and this is as far as we got.”
“Right. Well, I’ll just find the three hundred other guardians, find some way to stop them, defuse this big dimensional transfer rite, then see you safely as far as the ghoul tunnels. The Abyssal Greye can see you on from there.”
“I… can’t see that future,” warned Vespiir.
The villain judged this the right time to appear dramatically from the smoky haze. “Alas no. Sadly none of you will ever be seen again.” His servitor fleshbeasts shambled down the corridor to surround his captives. “You have walked into my trap, Vincent De Soth, and brought me Ebony of Nubilia and her acolyte as bonuses. Now you shall know the terrible vengeance of… the Necromancer General.”
The Necromancer General was hoping for a very big reward from his employer the Carnifex.
***
SIX HOURS AGO…
“I’m glad you could make it at such short notice,” Lee Bookman told the three members of his Governing Board that had just arrived at the Moon Public Library. “Three’s the minimum quorum I need to be able to discuss what to do about the situation that’s just arisen.”
“It had better be important,” the diabolical Dr Moo noted. “I’m in the middle of a particularly delicate DNA splice to make lactose molecules mutagenic and I had to leave Davidowicz fighting back the escaped test subjects all by herself.”
“It is important,” the Librarian assured Daio Waltz. “It’s a matter of ethics.”
“And you called me?”
“Library ethics.”
Dr Blargelslarch, Frammistatian archaeologist and currently acting interim ruler of that economically devastated alien world looked with curiosity at the third and newest governor. “I don’t believe that I’ve met this gentleman?”
“Terrence Hazelwood,” the newest member of the Board introduced himself.
“Also known as Clockwatcher,” Dr Moo supplied. “He’s on Ioldoboath’s staff these days.”
“Nothing inherently wrong with that,” said the Librarian defensively. “It could happen to anyone. I spent some time tidying up the Herringcarp library myself.”
D.D. decided it was time to intervene. “Perhaps I should begin minuting?” the Moon Public Library’s sentient operating system suggested diplomatically.
Lee pulled himself together. “Yes. Good idea. Well.”
“Well?” demanded Dr Moo.
“As you know, a while back the Moon Public Library declared independence from the Intergalactic Order of Libraries,” the Librarian noted. “Back when the Parody War was happening and the IOL was taken over by the Parody Master. Since then we’ve affiliated to the reformed IOL but we’re still kind of independent. So now when a problem comes up that I’d have referred to the Council or even to the Head Librarian I have to refer it to the local governors instead.”
“Us,” summarised Dr Blargeslarch. “So what’s the problem, Lee?”
The Librarian gestured for A.L.F.RED to hand out thick files to each of the visitors. “I’ve been codexing the materials sent to us from the devastated Shee-Yar Imperium. There’s some fascinating stuff in there, but I’ll brief on that another time.”
“I don’t mind hearing a little bit more about it now,” Blargeslarch admitted, his academic excitement welling up at the wealth of Shee-yar cultural data before him.
“Killer bovines rampaging through bio-labs nine to fourteen,” hissed Dr Moo. “And I’ve already been at this meeting for…”
“Nine minutes seventeen seconds,” contributed Clockwatcher. “Sorry. Habit.”
Lee Bookman nodded. “Right. Well, as you can see I decided to look at the most recent logs, just before the entire Imperium went dark, before something wiped out every living being on nearly a thousand worlds, right down to microbiological levels.”
“That is quite interesting research,” conceded Dr Moo.
“And you found out?” asked Clockwatcher carefully.
“There are indications,” admitted the Librarian. “The problem is that my conclusions are so… outré as to defy belief. And the ethical question is whether, given my sacred role as protector of this information and its confidential and sensitive nature, I can even reveal my suspicions enough to ask a logical question of the being I suspect to be the perpetrator of this mass genocide.”
Dr Blargelslarch looked up horrified. “One being?”
Lee realised that he’d already given away too much. “Maybe,” he swallowed. “My question to my Board of Governors is: can I investigate this further or would that be a breech of IOL rules about use of sealed data?”
“One being?” Dr Moo frowned. “Able to wipe out one of the most powerful space empires in the known universe in less than a day? I’d say warning us about that supersedes any library rules.”
Mr Hazelwood raised his hand to speak in opposition. “Excuse me, but if the rules forbid it then they should be obeyed. If any exception is made to IOL standards then confidence in the sanctity of data protection will be shattered. Nobody will trust the Libraries with their information. Tyrants and empires will expect special exceptions for every closed file they wish to examine. This way lies anarchy and the end of the IOL.”
“But the Libraries were always intended for education and edification,” noted Dr Blargelslarch.
“And nobody gets educated if they’re all slaughtered like the Shee-Yar,” Daio added.
“We’re not here to argue about what’s right,” Clockwatcher insisted. “We’re here to determine what the rules this Library runs by say about this situation.”
“I think I know something,” the Librarian admitted. “Something terrible. I think if I don’t reveal it then awful things will happen. But it is a breach of the IOL code. If I warn the Lair Legion, if I inform Gamma Ray Gary, if I tip off Shen Rae, even if I let the Observers in on the secret, then I’ll have violated one of our sacred trusts.”
“So violate them,” Dr Moo voted. “I’m curious.”
“You can’t speak,” Clockwatcher vetoed. “Even if it costs you your life.”
D.D. looked at Dr Blargeslarch. “Your casting decision.”
The alien archaeologist scratched a webbed hand over his bulbous throat. He looked round the table at the tense people and down at the meticulous research notes that Lee Bookman had prepared. He thought for a long time.
“No,” he said at last. “The Library must come first. That’s the duty we agreed to when we took up governorship. Our outside interests and objectives must be secondary when we sit in this room. I’m sorry, Lee. You cannot pursue this.”
A.L.F.RED snorted angrily and stomped as he led the visitors back to Landing Pad Chaucer.
D.D. remained behind to talk to the Librarian. “Lee, what now? If your suspicions are true then this dinner with the Carnifex tonight could be more than just an orientation for the Lair Legion’s new leader. It could be a deadly trap.”
“Then I go into a deadly trap,” answered Lenard H. Bookman. “I walk in there with my friends and team-mates and I die with them.”
“Lee…”
“I go with them. I don’t warn them. And I face what they face. That’s the job.”
***
THREE HOURS AGO…
On a distant world four heroes struggled against the dead. The Shee-Yar Imperium was extinct, but now its billions of citizens had risen as zombies to drag the living back to hell.
“How long have we been doing this?” Liu Xi Xian despaired as she followed the others out of the exploding starcarrier they’d managed to disable. The vast hulk had annihilated the city the refugees had taken shelter in and now it too was spinning in flames down to the shattered planet below.
“Nineteen hours eleven minutes and thirty-seven seconds, mark,” replied Anna the android. “During that time we have neutralised around sixteen million animated corpses, not counting the insectoid and microbial undead that Lara has deflected.”
“Keep moving,” the Psychic Samurai told the others. “There’s an intelligence directing these attacks. Even now there’ll be undead hands operating orbital weapons platforms with transnuclear missiles.”
Lara said nothing. Her brow was furrowed as she tried to keep her companions and herself alive. Shee-Yar Prime no longer orbited a sun. Without heat even the usually-breathable atmosphere froze. Only Lara’s constant attention was keeping the fugitives in a zone suitable for human – even for robot – survival.
“We can’t keep on like this much longer,” Liu Xi argued. She swiped away the next wave of zombies with a wall of earth, but the ground ripple was lower and slower than she’d intended. Her nose began to bleed.
“That’s the idea of the assault,” Chiaki Bushido told them. “It’s meant to wear us down, to keep us running, to require all our attention just to survive the moment. Somebody is playing us.”
“Somebody shifted us from outside Herringcarp Asylum all the way to another galaxy to get rid of us,” Anna pointed out. She hurled a stray undead high over the cityscape and hotwired herself into a public grav-transporter. “Even to get me, this is a little bit of overkill.”
“Somebody who knows how to block our exit from here,” Liu Xi added. “There’s no way out. If we sleep, if we stop, if we even make one mistake, we’re dead. Maybe even undead like them.”
Anna lurched the transporter off the ground, sideswiping the latest clutch of zombies before gaining altitude. “We should keep fighting though. Maybe somebody will rescue us.”
Lara stirred. “Nobody’s rescuing us,” she said. “Nobody even knows where we are. How could they? This trap’s been planned very well, and specially designed for us.”
“We’re surviving,” Anna argued. “I can prevent the orbital platforms from being able to target us too rapidly. We can start to take shifts at fighting…”
“We’re not going to win by battling every dead thing on this planet,” Chiaki told them. “Even if we defeat every undead we see what about the ones we don’t see? Even with Chiaki and Lara keeping us in breathable atmosphere and warding the undead bacteria what about the zombies who are setting the nuclear power stations to overload? The ones using advanced sniper rifles from a hundred miles away? The ones breaking into the special biological weapons plants? The ones setting bombs to split this dead planet into fragments?”
“So what, we just give up?” Liu Xi asked.
“We change the game,” the Psychic Samurai replied. “So first off I have to die…”
***
ONE HOUR AGO…
“What’s that noise?” demanded Kara Harper, staggering out of her attic bedroom with an icepack to his head. “And why has nobody invented a decent hangover cure in this century yet? We’re supposed to be a leading edge weird science company and nobody’s cured hangovers yet?”
“It’s an intruder alarm,” reported Amy Aston, climbing out from beneath a fire-engine red turbo-powered racecar on the deck below. “An external force has been directed against the Firehouse. And we haven’t cured hangovers yet because hangovers are an important part of the drinking process. Without hangovers you’d have no excuse to be still in bed at nine p.m. the day after your birthday party and I’d have no excuse to have been grumpy as hell all day as I tidied up the mess your dissolute student friends left all over the place.”
“You need an excuse to grump? Since when?” wondered Miss Framlicker, emerging from her office. “Could somebody please shut that alarm off or at least find out if we’re being assaulted by another Doomwraith or something? I thought Al B. had improved the dimensional deflection barriers to make this place pretty much impossible to breach now.”
Amy hit a console with her spanner until the noise stopped. “It was an attempted breach,” she reported. “Somebody had a determined attempt at the dimensional screens. Better get Cody up to look at the data. There’s some kind of weird ripple from under Paradopolis, the vector where the Groper anomalies are.”
Kara hammered on her brother’s door. “Hey, useless, you’re required!” When there was no answer she used her wrist control to over-ride his lock. “Hey! I said…”
A bonsai kitten stuck her head round the door. “Hi,” she smiled. “Cody’ll be with you in a moment.”
“Uh, right. Hello…”
“Annasasia.”
“Er, yes.”
“Is Cody up yet?” called Miss F from below.
“I think he has been,” Kara called back.
“I’ll be right out,” Cody called. “Just check the external sensors or something, sis.”
“I’m checking the externals now,” Amy shouted up. “I think I’m gonna need a bigger spanner.”
“What is wrong with gravity?” Annastasia the cat girl asked curiously.
“What’s wrong with you, being in there with my brother?” demanded Kara. “And where’s your clothing?”
“I’m wearing fur. And as for gravity…”
At that point the EEE firehouse went zero-G. Exciting new klaxons went off.
“What the hell’s happening now?” demanded Miss Framlicker, “and is it Al or Nats who’s responsible?”
“I’ve got the externals,” Amy announced, clinging to the console as equipment began to float around her. “I think I know what the barrier alarm was about. According to these readings we’ve been shifted to the centre of the known universe, to point zero where the big bang started.”
Annastasia giggled at the idea of big bangs.
Cody floated out of his room, hastily dragging on surfer shorts. “Centre of the universe? Are you sure?”
Amy glowered up at him. “No. These readings are pretty scrambled. But we’re
in space and we’re falling fast into something and…”
“Isn’t there theoretically supposed to be a giant black hole at the centre of the universe?” Miss Framlicker objected. “Or a Starbucks.”
Cody and Kara exchanged looks.
“I’ve translated some bits of the Necronastycon for Vinnie,” Cody admitted. “At the centre of the Parodyverse there’s this ancient, uber-powerful, laws-of-physics-mangling elder deity called Azafroth.”
“That would explain the approaching tentacles on the viewscreen,” admitted Kara. “Ooh, this is going to get nastily hentai.”
The EEE firehouse toppled down through strange dimensions towards the maw of Azafroth.
***
THIRTY MINUTES AGO:
Tandi 9000 came back into the circular living area of Visionary’s lighthouse. “That was Sergeant MacHarridan,” she said. “There’s a full lockdown on Parody Island and he wanted to be sure that we’re OK.”
“That’ll be because Hatty and Nats and the Shoggoth went missing,” Griffin reported. “When word gets out it might encourage bad guys to take advantage.”
“I think it’s more than that,” Magweed frowned. “Marie seemed really worried about something. She and Sir Mumphrey talked for a very long time and since then Marie’s been bansheeing all over the island.”
“There’s something going on,” agreed Samantha Featherstone. “Sergeant MacHarridan is quite right to take security seriously tonight.”
“Is that why you called Salieri Meng to see if he wanted to join us for Monopoly, Sam?” wonder Griffin.
“One reason why you called him,” amended Magweed mischievously.
“I thought the supposedly seventh-cleverest boy genius on Earth might have some useful tactical insights,” sniffed Samantha. “It’s unfortunate he was out of town on some kind of genius convention but it hardly bothers me.” She caught her friends’ looks. “It doesn’t.”
The banter came to a halt as the alarm klaxon rang out. “That’s not a good sound,” Tandi remembered.
“It’s a Class Two security breach,” Griffin reported. “Intruders on the island.”
“But not Class Omega,” Samantha noted, “which means Marie won’t be able to boost her banshee powers to Celestian levels.”
“But whoever it is still has to deal with Marie and a Detonator Hippo,” Magweed pointed out. “And us.”
The klaxon tone changed. “Class One breach,” Griffin translated. “Significant security breach and friendly casualties.”
Tandi looked around. “Is there a panic room or something?” she wondered. She felt she could panic right here if necessary.
“We could shift the lighthouse to Willingham,” Magweed considered.
“No, they’ll be expecting that,” Sam vetoed. “Grandfather mentioned something earlier when he talked to me in a time-stop but he didn’t want me to say anything because it might get overheard. There’s a major problem…”
The Lighthouse shook as something detonated, over towards the Lair Mansion.
“We have to do something,” Griffin insisted. “Marie and the Sergeant could be in trouble!”
“We sit tight,” ordered Sam. “Grandfather said he’s be making provision and…”
There was a knock at the door.
“Um…” said Magweed, “should we answer that?”
“Do invaders knock at the door?” Tandi wondered. “Stay there and I’ll go check. If necessary run for cover while I… distract them.”
“We’re not letting you answer the door alone, Tandi,” objected Griffin. “I’ll protect you.”
The tower shook again. The knocking became a sharp rap.
“Tandi and I will answer the door,” Samantha decided. “Mags, get Enty’s toaster from the kitchen. Power it up. Griff, raid Kerry’s room and get back here with the good stuff. Move!”
Tandi moved to the door and slipped it open on the chain. Sam peered through the crack and gasped. “Nanny Greenwood!”
“Of course it is, child,” said Sir Mumphrey’s ancient Celestian-empowered childhood nurse. “Who else would young Mumphrey send to look after the children? Now open the door, spit spot, and let’s be about defending this place, shall we?”
***
TWO MINUTES AGO…
The Parodyverse’s greatest superhero raised his glass of red wine. “A toast,” said the Carnifex, “to the Lair Legion.”
“The Lair Legion,” the men and women around his long oak dining table in the mile-high Esqualine Tower echoed.
The Carnifex watched with amusement as the Lair Legion patted themselves on the back, unaware that a few brief moments from now they would be screaming and dying for his pleasure.
“The Lair Legion,” smiled the Carnifex. “Legends in your own lifetime. From your first early assemblings to combat Peter von Doom and Baron Zemo, through your deeds protecting the world from Psychic Mastermind, from the Obliterator, from Galactivac himself, from your struggles with the Hooded Hood, with Ultizon, with the Resolution Prophecy, your deeds in your world tour and Transworlds Challenge, your desperate stand against the Hellraisers and the demon lords behind them, and of course your destruction of the Parody Master in the Parody War, you have entered into the realms of legends. Your names will be remembered for as long as the Parodyverse endures.”
“I have a toast too,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton told the team, rising to recharge his glass. “You missed out one important thing from our deeds so far, Mark. It’s not like you to be so modest.”
“My leading the Legion…?” asked the hunter.
“Our defeat of the Moderator and of Immortipatus and of Ultizon,” the eccentric Englishman suggested. “In fact, our defeat of all the things you’ve secretly sent against us over the last year or so. And of course our forthcoming spectacular thrashing of you, you arrant blatant preening blaggardly murdering bounder!”
Visionary did a spit-take. “What?”
“Sir Mumphrey…?” began Amber.
The Keeper of the Chronometer of Infinity reached for his pocketwatch.
The Carnifex moved around the room faster than most of those present could see. In the blink of an eye, Mumphrey’s pocketwatch, CSFB!’s backpack, Al B.’s toolbelt and Hallie’s Holographic Emitter Display were tossed into a far corner; Hallie was trapped inside her disabled carrier device unable to manifest.
And as he took Mumphrey’s timepiece the Carnifex shredded whatever temporal preparations the eccentric Englishman had placed upon his Legionnaires.
That was a mistake…
***
EIGHT HOURS AGO…
“It’s almost impossible to believe,” Al B. Harper whistled. “And yet it makes a horrible kind of sense.”
“The data fits,” Yuki Shiro admitted. “In fact it explains all kinds of anomalies that didn’t add up at the time.”
“But the Carnifex!” frowned Dancer. “How could he be a baddie? He’s so hot!”
“So he’s Emperor Palpatine and he’s been working for the dark side all along,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! summarised. “He’s cost us Hatty and Nats and the Shoggoth and tonight he might go for the rest of us and then nobody can stop him.”
“He might have got some people already,” Hallie warned. “I haven’t been able to contact Liu Xi or Lara, for example.”
The Librarian closed his eyes and said nothing.
“He’s real powerful,” Visionary worried. “I’m not taking the Juniors to that dinner tonight.”
“You have to,” Sir Mumphrey insisted. “He’s the best hunter in the universe. Any kind of deviation, any kind of hesitation, a speeded heartbeat, tension sweat, even increased microprocessor activity, and he’ll know the game’s up. That’s why I’m speaking to you in this bubble of stopped time and it’s why I’ll be using my pocketwatch to send all of your memories of this conversation twenty-four hours into your future when we’re done.”
“Then we won’t know he’s going to betray us until he does,” objected spiffy, “Until half a day after, maybe.”
Asil whacked the weed-bearer on the back of his head. “If he attacks then he’ll have found a way to break whatever temporal contingencies Mumphrey might have laid on the team. But if he does that…”
“Then actually he’ll be snapping our memories right back into place,” Al B. reasoned, “and suddenly we’ll be prepared.”
“Absolutely,” agreed Sir Mumphrey Wilton. “And then we’ll have to smite the ungodly.”
***
TEN MINUTES AGO…
“That was a good suit, Mr Skinner,” complained Mr Flay as he regenerated his skin.
“A very good suit, Mr Flay,” agreed his partner, who was similarly restoring himself. “I think you should claim for that suit on expenses.”
“I think we should make a replacement out of that old nanny’s hide, Mr Skinner.”
“I don’t disagree, Mr Flay. How did we miss the fact that Wilton had a cosmically-charged nursemaid on dial-up?”
“She didn’t come into any of the boss’ scenarios so far, Mr Skinner. That’s how. That’s why we had to drop Parody Island and the Lighthouse kiddies to the bottom of the list.”
“We’ll be back for them later, though, Mr Flay. With interest.”
“I know that I’m interested, Mr Skinner. But for now we have a schedule to keep.” The Carnifex’s enforcer checked a crumpled piece of paper and ticked something off with a stubby pencil. “This would be the Hastings home.”
“That’s the place, Mr Flay. The Legion’s PR lady, a wifie and two little innocent babies. And all kinds of security arrangements.”
“That would be those poor dead SPUD troopers in Sentinoids back there, would it Mr Skinner?”
“I think it would, Mr Flay. And that Native American Shaman we set those Wastings loose on. I wonder if he’s been devoured yet?”
“He’s a tricky one, that Shaman. I reckon he’ll give them a run before they consume him. But he’s out of the way so we can start our special visit on CrazySugarFreakBoy!s household.”
“I’ve been specially looking forward to it, Mr Flay. Why there’s something very satisfying about torturing an entire family together. Heartwarming, the way they weeps for each other.”
“Heartwarming, as you says, Mr Skinner. Miss Peel can have her fun with whole planets of undead an’ the like, but give me the chance to slice off a baby’s fingers and feed ‘em to her mother and that’s enough for me.”
“Did you bring the special equipment, Mr Flay?”
“Never leaves home without it, Mr Skinner. Now let’s be about things. I don’t want to rush but there’s lots of folks to hurt tonight and I’m eager to be back at that Lighthouse before morning. Next time we’ll have adapted for that nanny and it’ll be a very different story.”
“A horror story.”
“With a sad, gory ending.”
“Eventually.”
They moved towards the Hastings house with growing anticipation.
A line was telekinetically chiselled in the ground before them.
Mr Flay and Mr Skinner looked up. “And what’s this then?” asked Mr Flay.
Nats glided down to interpose himself between the enforcers and the Hastings residence. “That’s a line,” the flying phenomenon explained. “If you cross it you’re going to be destroyed.”
“By you, little hero?” snorted Mr Skinner. “Did you see what we did to those soldier boys back there?”
“Yes,” said Hatman, moving to join Nats. “So maybe you don’t even need to cross the line for us to take you down.”
“Two of you?” sneered Mr Flay. “We have devastated worlds. Solar systems.”
The Manga Shoggoth bubbled up to join them. “Not just two,” he declared. “Unreal numbers. And a few letters maybe. And a teapot.”
“Okay, that was going good until the Shoggoth spoke,” Nats admitted. “Point is, bad guys, Meg and her family are protected. Back off or die.”
“Or your Lair Legion will line up?” mocked Mr Skinner. “They’ll be screaming and running and dying pretty much any time now. There’s nobody left for you to call.” He took one deliberate pace over Nats’ line.
“Lair Legion, Line Up!” shouted Hatman.
Sorceress, Yo, Goldeneyed, dull thud, ManMan, Citizen Z and Alcheman answered the charge.
***
NOW…
“Mark,” Zdenka Zarazoza told the Carnifex, dragging his attention from the Legion for the barest moment. “I don’t think we should see each other any more. My father doesn’t approve.”
“Your father?” This was so unexpected that the Carnifex actually paused.
Rabid Wolf nodded. “You know him. The Hooded Hood.” She raked her claws right down the Carnifex’s chest, drawing blood.
Silicone Sally catapulted Icy straight at the Carnifex. Dancer altered chances so he was taken by surprise. FA manipulated the fabric of her evening gown to scoop the confiscated items back to their owners. Hallie activated the reserve HED in Vizh’s pocket and filled the battle zone with fake Legionnaires. Donar and Harlagaz took out the floor of the room to topple the battle away from the noncombatants. The Carnifex teetered for a moment before Yuki and Ham-Boy toppled him over the edge. Kerry detonated the interior of the tower below.
Sir Mumphrey lifted his glass as the battle was joined. “To the Lair Legion.”
And the Carnifex waxed wroth.
***
Next time: It’s all out action as EEE takes on the eldest of elder gods, as Vinnie, Ebony, and Vespiir take on the nastiest of Necromancers, as Lara and her comrades battle the planet of the dead, as Hatty and his Lost Legion take on Mr Skinner and Mr Flay, and as the Lair Legion square off against the Carnifex himself. All of this plus a few missing scenes from the events of this chapter and a few words from… the Hooded Hood. Tune in for Untold Tales of the Lair Legion vs the Carnifex: Winner Takes All.
***
Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2010 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2010 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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