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Post By The Hooded Hood offers this homely melange of domestic incident and world conquest Sat Aug 07, 2004 at 01:25:44 pm EDT |
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#163: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Together Again For the First Time | |
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| #163: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Together Again For the First Time The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Who's Who in the Parodyverse Where's Where in the Parodyverse Previously: After undoing the harm caused by Hacker Nine and preventing the Abhumans from destroying the Earth, the Lair Legion and exiled Abhuman princess Uhuna returned to the Lair Mansion. Lindy Wilson blamed her big brother Sam (Falcon) Wilson for the death of Hacker Nine and has run away from home. Hospitalised CrazySugarFreakBoy! received a visit from the former lover who hospitalised him, Pelopia, Disciple of Order; a visit that ended unhappily. Miss Framlicker and Al B. Harper agreed to set up a new interdimensional delivery company. And Hatman, long thought dead, has finally returned to the team, as we now discover… The Supreme Interference had conquered the planet Earth three weeks ago. Nobody had noticed. Originally created as the repository of brain-patterns of the greatest minds of the Skree Star Empire, the organic computer had evolved to be the supreme voice of authority ruling five thousand worlds. Then it had gambled everything on a bold move to jolt the blue-skinned alien race out of its evolutionary backwater by arranging the decimation of the empire at the hands of Galactivac, the Living Death that Sucks. While the Skree were in disarray, the Supreme Interference took refuge on Earth and sought domination to plunder its genetic heritage for the salvation of his people. The Lair Legion jumped up and down on him, and for many months he had languished in a SPUD holding facility outside Darwin in Australia’s Northern Territory. The irony of the place name amused him. It had taken a long time to bypass the security blocks and firewalls placed around his core programmes; longer still to subvert the scientists and technicians that maintained the complex. But once that was done, taking over the planet was child’s play. It took three weeks to parlay an initial $1000 investment on the world stock exchange into a multi-billion holding portfolio, all too simple for a thinking machine to analyse the trends of the stock exchange when its capacity was sufficient to predict the movements of quarks. From there it was easy to buy into the major pharmaceutical companies, to patent new technologies, to smooth radical innovative products through federal testing. Then it was just a question of getting the product on the market. It was called Thrustra, a major new competitor to Viagra, cheaper, faster, and with the side-effect of promoting permanent penile growth. It would have a projected thirty million customers in year one. Along with a female contraceptive pill and a new headache tablet the Supreme Interference’s gene modification templates would be introduced to half the world’s population over three years, and the mutations would begin shortly thereafter. Two generations from now, every living creature on Earth would be genetically-perfected Skree. The Supreme Interference hung in his synaptic pool and waited. He had all the time in the world. Occasionally he turned his massive intelligence and formidable resources to check that his enemies still knew nothing of what he had achieved… “Dear Mr Garrick,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton dictated, stalking the carpet in the Lair Legion chairman’s office. “I am writing to apologise after your complaint about my remarks regarding you during the Abhuman War crisis. I am sorry I called you a blithering cretinous ass.” Asil, Mumphrey’s amanuensis nodded and jotted this down. She waited as the temporary leader of the Legion took a breath. “What I meant to say,” Mumph continued dictating, “is that you are a complete blithering cretinous ass, so awe-inspiringly stupid as to be able to claim a place in the annals of all-time great arse-headed prats and plonkers, with pride of place and a special plaque saying ‘this is an example of a massively thundering pestilent bubo of the first order’.” The eccentric Englishman breathed out. “I trust this clarifies the situation and apologise again for any misunderstanding. Yours sincerely, Sir Mumphrey Wilton KCVO etc.” “You really want me to send this?” Asil Ashling checked. “Copy it to the American president and Dan Drury as well,” Sir Mumphrey instructed. “And the heads of NATO. Oh, and to Epitome. He needs cheering up after that business with Badripoor. And then let’s move and see where we are with…” The noise in the corridor interrupted further business. “What’s up, chaps?” Mumph demanded, sticking his head out of his office. “dull thud’s not got a body part stuck in the rotivator again, has he?” “No!” gushed Dancer excitedly, beckoning Mumph and Asil to join the party. “Hatman’s back!” Falcon rushed away to his Hell’s Bathroom apartment as soon as the mission debrief was over and flung open the door. “Lindy?” he called anxiously. “Lindy, are you home?” “Lindy,” snorted a female voice from the bedroom door. “Is that who these belong to?” A pretty athletic brunette was leaning on the door-frame holding up a pair of white briefs. She had a tight, sceptical expression on her face. “Julia!” gasped Sam Wilson. “You’re back?” Then he added anxiously, “Have you seen Lindy?” Julia Thompson looked over her shoulder into the bedroom. “Nope, she’s not here, Sam, whoever she is. Looks like I was away too long this time, eh? Or were you just hoping to keep both of us?” It took Falcon a moment to do the mental untangling behind his old lover’s suppositions. “Ah no, Julia. You’ve got it all wrong.” “I’m sure I have,” Pigeon answered sarcastically. “I go away on one deep-cover mission for a few months and when I get back my boyfriend’s joined the Lair Legion and traded me in for a newer model.” “As usual, as wrong as you can get it,” Sam scowled back. “So listen fast, because this is an emergency. Lindy is my little sister. The Hooded Hood was playing his retcon games and when the world stopped spinning I had a fourteen-year-old kid for family that I’d never known about before. Fifteen now. Plus she got slipped forward almost a decade into the future from when she was, so she’s a little out of it.” “Oookay,” considered Julia. “That’s either the most bizarre truth or the weirdest damn excuse alibi I’ve ever heard.” “What I didn’t know is that Lindy’s been seeing some super-villain punk kid called Hacker Nine behind my back,” Sam Wilson continued. “A few days back this Hacker Nine damn near wiped out the US fiscal system, and then got himself taken down in a mob revenge hit.” “I take it back,” Pigeon sighed. “This is the most bizarre.” “Lindy was there in NORAD centre when the little squit got himself kacked,” Falcon went on. “So was I, with the LL trying to shut the flaming nuisance down. And she freaked when he got murdered and she blames me for it.” “And she’s not here now,” Julia noted. “Run away,” Sam growled. “And when I could finally get Lisa first-lady-of-the-Lair-Legion Waltz to get off her high horse and use her summonsing powers we found Lindy had run off with one of H9’s summons-preventing devices. So now she could be anywhere.” Pigeon turned back to the suitcase she’d left in the hall and pulled out her costume. “Not the homecoming I’d expected, Samuel,” she admitted, “But I guess we’d better get looking then.” “Welcome back, Mr Boaz,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton said, shaking Hatman’s hand warmly. “Damned pleased to see you alive and well after all.” Yo nodded in agreement and gave Jay a little kiss on the cheek, transforming to Yo-female mode for the purpose. Around Sir Mumphrey the pure thought being often kept to masculine form, since that way the eccentric Englishman didn’t keep moving chairs and opening doors for him/her. “Is to be so good you are to be being back.” “Thanks,” Jay told them, taking the proffered seat in the Meeting Room. “I’m still trying to get my head round all the changes.” “Is to be all good but two,” Yo assured him. “Is to be bad about cute-Sorceress to be leaving.” “Personal differences,” Hatman explained with a nervous glance at Sir Mumphrey, who was after all Whitney Darkness’ grandfather. “It was all very amicable. We’re still friends. She’s going to spend some time travelling, she said.” “And you are to be knowing that poor Pegasus is to be sacrificing of her life to be saving the universing?” Jay swallowed hard. In another reality created through the retconning of the Hooded Hood the Pegasus had been alive. In rejecting that reality he had in some way condemned her to death. “I heard about it from Dancer,” Hatman admitted. “I’m sorry. But I’m also kind of proud that she went out like a Legionnaire.” “Absolutely,” agreed Sir Mumphrey Wilton. “Finest traditions of the regiment.” “And you’re leading the Lair Legion, Sir Mumphrey,” the capped crusader noted. “Just till young Finny and the Dark Knight finish their mission with Ziles,” the eccentric Englishman assured him. “Was required to intervene to throw the Hooded Hood out of the Lair Mansion.” “I’m on the team for that,” Jay admitted. “Or maybe, y’know, ripping his head off.” “But is to be good we are to be having so many newbies!” Yo added cheerfully. “Is to be cute Falcon and cute Librarian and cute Al B. Harpering, and cute-but-suspicious Mr Epitome…” “I can’t believe you invited Epitome into the mansion,” admitted Hatman, “but he does seem to be behaving like a pro about it.” “Also partially-cute Manga Shoggoth…” “Oh yes,” Hatman winced. “the Shoggoth. We have a Cthulhic elder beast on the team!” “Fits in very well, I find,” Sir Mumphrey answered, “except maybe that time the far right Bible Belters tried to exorcise him. Still getting goo and bodily fluids out of the press room carpet.” “He’s an alien pan-dimensional monster,” Hatman pointed out. “Now he is being our alien pan-dimensional monster,” Yo pointed out. “Also we are to be having Visi and Lisa back.” “And a whole class of trainee heroes,” Hatman noted. “That’s long overdue, although I did note a very slack dress code.” “Visionary’s spoken with Kerry and Samantha about slack dresses before now,” Mumphrey grumped. “I’ll get him to have another word.” “Yo is thinking that poor Hatty is to be having problems catching up.” “Well, yes,” agreed Jay. “I don’t know where I fit any more. Or even if I do fit.” “You fit, Mr Boaz,” Mumphrey assured him. “Need you back where you belong. Tactical advisor on the field team. Haven’t really done much battle co-ordination with this unit. Needs shaking up. Needs practise. Can’t think of anybody finer to do that for us.” “Well sure,” agreed Hatman. “I guess I could run a few scenarios.” “You were also to be being our liaison with the emergency services and armed forces,” Yo pointed out. “Yo is thinking armed forces will be pleased if is not cute-Lisa to be liasing with them all the time. They will be less tired.” “I guess,” Jay answered. “I’ll give it a try at least until Finny gets back.” “Can’t say fairer, Mr Boaz,” Mumphrey approved, getting up and clapping Hatman on the back. “Jolly good show. Welcome back to the Lair Legion!” Nats flew down over the narrow streets of Old Gothametropolis. This part of the city was road after road of 1900s row houses with rain-slick slate roofs. For the most part they were run-down tenements now, and the little grass courtyards were overgrown and littered with broken glass. There at the junction of the winding alleys of Sixlanes (still following the tracks made by settler’s cows two and a half-centuries earlier) was the old firehouse, as abandoned as the neighbourhood where it stood. But now its windows were unboarded and there was a light shining in the upper floor. Nats manoeuvred through the second story window and alighted upon a floor covered with cables and dismantled electrical equipment. “Hi,” he called to the occupant of the room. “You wanted to see me?” Al B. Harper looked up from his cosmic resonation calibrator, then pulled off the magnifying goggles so he could see Bill Reed properly. “Ah, Nats,” he noted. “No, it wasn’t me who sent for you.” He gestured to the office that had once been reserved for the fire chief. “You’re wanted in there.” Nats picked his way over the cluttered floor. “Mind the flux matrix generator coils,” Al B. warned him. “They’re live and packing around sixty thousand volts.” Nats carefully levitated the rest of the way to the office. “Oh,” he said as he saw the familiar lab-coated form of Miss Framlicker, his former boss. “And good afternoon to you, Mr Reed,” Miss F said formally. “Have a seat.” “Why? So you can fire me from ITC again?” Bill asked bitterly. “Oh no, wait, you already did that.” “So I recall,” Miss Framlicker responded. “I believe that happened after you spread the rumour that we were co-habiting and dragged my personal life into national disrepute but before you triggered off human extinction by the Abhumans.” “I never spread anything,” Nats replied, then reconsidered his wording. “What I mean is…” “Oh shut up,” Miss Framlicker snapped. “Just listen and try not to talk. Don’t breathe if possible.” “I don’t work for you now,” Bill argued. “I don’t have to take this kind of treatment.” “Nats, you moron, I’m trying to offer you a job!” Bill Reed froze in mid-bicker. “A what?” “A job,” Miss Framlicker told him. “Against my better judgement, but we need an experienced interdimensional delivery courier. And Al insists it has to be you.” “ITC wants to hire me again?” Miss Framlicker shook her head. “I quit ITC. Al B. and I have set up our own company, to compete with them. Based here,” she explained, gesturing to the cluttered mouldy firehouse. “It’s pretty much structurally safe now Al has got the supporting force-fields working.” “And you want me back?” Nats grinned. “I’m touched.” “One of us must be,” Miss F sighed. “Is that a yes then?” “Sure. I kind of need the work. Sign me up. I’d love to work for…” Nats paused. “Er, what is the name of this company?” “Well I suggested Harper & Flamlicker,” answered Al B. “And I proposed Framlicker and Harper. Or Framlicker and Associate,” scowled his business partner. “How about FramHarpCo?” offered Nats helpfully. “No,” Al B. and Miss F said in unison. “We finally decided on Endeavour Enterprises,” Miss Framlicker revealed. “Extraordinary Endeavour Enterprises,” Al B. corrected her. “Now with added E.” Nats looked at his shoulder logo patch. “I’m going to have ‘EEE’ written on my arms?” he asked. Lisa was surprised when she knocked on the door of Beth Shellett’s apartment and Princess Uhunalura of the Abhumans answered to door. “Hi!” smiled the petite redhead exile from the Great Relief. “Come on in.” Lisa followed Uhuna into the hall. “What are you doing here? I came to call on Laurie. How did…?” Then Laurie Leyton, once the sidekick known as Lisette, appeared from the kitchen with Dancer. “Oh,” said Lisa. “I didn’t know,” “Didn’t know what?” Laurie puzzled. “Dancer and Uhuna just called to take me out.” “Sorry Lisa,” Dancer said. “I had no idea you were coming round.” “No problem,” Lisa answered trying to sound casual. “I don’t want to interrupt anything.” “No, it’s fine, really,” Dancer assured her. “I can go. You could take Uhuna and Laurie for a coffee.” “I don’t get it,” Laurie puzzled. “Why can’t we all go for a coffee?” There was an awkward silence. “I suppose we should talk about it,” Lisa said at last. “About what?” puzzled Uhuna. The human world didn’t always seem to make that much sense. “Lisa and I,” Dancer explained. “I think we’ve been avoiding each other. Trying not to tread on each other’s toes.” “Well, you’ve been trying not to,” Lisa smiled wanly. “I wear stilettos for a good reason.” “I don’t get it,” Lisette frowned. “Have you two had a row or something?” “No, nothing like that,” Dancer assured them. “It’s just…” “We seem to… overlap,” Lisa answered. “Look, I can come back later. Sorry to bother you folks, okay?” “Not okay,” insisted Laurie. “Come back here Lisa. I’ve never known you run away from anyone, including five hundred randy Racoon People.” A little reminiscent smile quirked Lisa’s lips. Laurie turned to Shep. “And you, Dancer, you’re usually really nice to people.” “You haven’t caught me on a bad day then,” Sarah Shepherdson confessed. “And both of you have been really good to me since, well since I got hooked on drugs, serial gang-raped, and almost executed in a snuff video,” Lisette declared bluntly. Uhuna’s eyes widened. “Yes, really,” Lisette nodded. “But my friends stuck by me, even when I was a whining pitiful wreck begging for another hit. Bry’s hardly left my side until recently. Beth’s let me stay here even though the vomit smell must have been awful. And Lisa and Dancer keep visiting. So for once I want to give something back to the community, okay?” She stared at her guests. “Sit down.” Uhuna shepherded Dancer and Lisa to the chairs round the kitchen table. “Now what’s the problem?” Laurie challenged. “Me,” said Lisa at last. “I’m the problem. Back with the old LL I kind of looked after things. After people. Solved their problems, perked them up, made them into a family. But then I left to have Christopher.” “And I came along,” Dancer reasoned. “A Lisa-wannabee. I’m not as clever as she is, or as good-looking. I don’t have a lovely son. I can’t cope with life the way she does. But for a while I was able to help the Lair Legion out when they couldn’t have her.” “Are you kidding?” Lisa snorted. “They don’t want me back. They’re all Dancer fans now. And why not? You’re younger, fresher, a damn sight less bitchy. You’re naturally nurturing and supportive where I have to grit my teeth to do it. You fill the place I had better than I ever did.” “I do not understand,” Uhuna confessed. “Why can a family of friends not have two people who care and look after them? And is not Yo also caring? Or Visionary? Or CrazySugarFreakBoy? “I know it sounds stupid when we say it out loud,” Dancer admitted. “But…” “It’s there,” Lisa finished for her again. “Pathetic or what?” “How can it be pathetic that two people both care for their friends?” Uhunalura demanded. “Why can you not be as sisters to each other?” “My sister’s a pyromaniac rebel without a cause that needs a good smacking,” Dancer explained. “Er, my friend Sarah’s sister, that is.” “My sister’s a raving supervillain that dresses up as a cow,” Lisa added. “Top that.” Lisette squatted down between the two superheroines. “You’ve both been good friends to me,” she told them. “I’ve needed that, from both of you. You’ve helped me though.” She looked from Lisa to Dancer and back again. “So why don’t you two just team up and conquer the world?” she challenged them. Lisa and Dancer looked at each other speculatively. “I’m free next Tuesday,” admitted Dancer. Jay Boaz bounced the ball twice, ran up the court, took a half-step and jumped. The orange sphere hammered onto the backboard and down through the hoop. And Hatman smiled. “That,” he said, turning to the grubby teenagers who were watching him, “is how you do it.” “Oh sure,” said a spotty youth with half his head shaved. “Anyone can play basketball when they got super-powers.” “I’m not using super-powers,” Hatman assured him. “What would be the point? I’m only wearing my default Hatman hat. It doesn’t give me any powers at all. This is just through practise, and some technique. I can show you how to do this.” “Let’s have another try, folks,” suggested Reverend Mac Fleetwood, stepping out onto the court. “Like last time, but remembering what Hatman showed you. And no weapons.” When the kids of Hell’s Bathroom came to play sports outside the Zero Street Mission it wasn’t a typical Sunday School event. Fleetwood and Hatman watched closely as the poorest and most violent young men in the city came together on the tarmac to play some basketball. “I wasn’t sure about this,” Jay admitted to the preacher. “I’ve got hundreds of things to do since I got back, new duties and old. Armed forces and emergency services liaison, which I’m taking special training for. Getting my life back in order. Letting my folks know I’m not dead like they thought. But I’m glad I made time for these kids. This is important.” “You don’t know how important, Jay,” Fleetwood answered. “If just one or two decide not to do drugs or not to commit crime because this means something to them…” The preacher looked round. “Well, let’s just say I grew up in the Kitchen. If everybody abandons these kids then what do you expect them to become?” “I’m in with the programme,” Hatman agreed. His smile dimmed a bit. “It’s not like I have a social life now.” “Aaaaand cue the social life!” cried CrazySugarFreakBoy!, somersaulting over the rooftop to land in a dramatic crouch beside his old friend. “Hat! They told me you were back. This is like the greatest thing since the return of Jean Grey, and by that I mean the original return not all the sucky other deaths and returns since, or maybe bringing back Hal Jordon as the one true Green Lantern only without the crappy continuity problems.” “Dream!” Hatman grinned as his comrade enthused and gabbled. “I was on my way to the hospital to see you after this.” “Oh sure, like I was going to lie in a hospital bed when the Hat was back!” scorned CSFB!. “I was feeling pretty down but now I’m ready to conquer the world. Well, not conquer it but definitely to team up and stop somebody conquering it. Maybe MODEM or Count Fokker, they’ve been pretty quiet lately.” He bounced excitedly around the capped crusader. “Let’s go take out a B.A.L.D. cell, shall we? Can we? Huh?” Hatman gave his old friend an affectionate hug. “It’s good to be back with you, Dream.” “It’s awesome, dude!” CSFB! corrected him. “It’s Starsky and Hutch! Bo and Luke! Solo and Skywalker! It’s Stan and Jack on the FF!” He calmed down a moment and laid a comforting hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Plus I heard about Sorcy leaving. That’s totally not good, but I have the solution, okay?” “The… the solution?” Sorceress and Hatman had ended their longtime romance on his return over disputes about choices they had each made in alternate worlds arranged by the Hooded Hood. Jay dreaded what Dreamcatcher Foxglove might think was a possible solution to the sticky emotional minefield. “The solution!” CSFB! promised. “Get back on the horse, Hatty. Get a date. Meet a nice girl. Enjoy yourself.” “Dream, I don’t think that’s a good…” “Don’t worry about being out of practise asking girls. I already arranged a date for you, called her up on my eerie ear-ring and wrist walkie-talkie.” “You what?” “You’ll really like her, Hatster! She’s smart, pretty, sharp as a tack, and she’s really into social reform and stuff. It’s like you and Bernice Tessmacher were made for each other.” “Bernice Tessmacher?” the name sounded familiar to Jay. “Isn’t she the reporter who had Nats roasted in the national press? The one who really hates superheroes?” “Well yes,” admitted CSFB!. “But she’s really great when you get to know her.” “I see you’re going to have an interesting return to life, Jay,” Reverend Fleetwood said with sympathy. “There’s no use complaining,” Visionary told spiffy. “The grading’s on a curve and somebody has to come bottom.” Mark Hopkins waved his Lair Legion Junior Exam Results paper angrily in front of the possibly fake man. “But why me?” he demanded. “I’ve been doing this stuff from the very beginning. I founded the damn Lair Legion, and here you are flunking me from the kiddie classes!” “Maybe if you took them more seriously you’d do better,” Vizh suggested. “This is about Kerry Shepherdson, isn’t it?” spiffy frowned. “I already told you, Harlagaz and Ham-Boy planted that underwear in my back pocket.” Visionary scowled back at the fern-wielding Mayor of most of the US. “They better have.” spiffy turned from argument to wheedle. “C’mon Vizh, we’ve known each other for a long time. Couldn’t you reconsider some of these test scores…?” “I suppose I was a bit generous with some of them.” “Look!” Mark insisted, having his wildly flailing fern turn Visionary round towards the TV set in the corner of the Mayor’s office. “Look on Channel Nine! They’re interviewing Dr Shales, that smarmy, know-it-all, good-for-nothing Mayorship-stealing loser. He’s got like fifteen degrees and he keeps showing them off by knowing stuff in public! What’s the electorate going to think if they find out about me flunking the Junior LL?” “Dr Shales didn’t pass the first semester either at the junior LL academy either,” Visionary offered helpfully. “Is that what this is all about, spiffy? Election nerves?” Mark Hopkins paced the floor. “It’s not nerves, Vizh. It’s… I dunno, pride, or… moxie. Yeah, it’s moxie. I might have got elected omni-mayor of nearly everywhere in the US by a funny Pierson’s Porter joke but I’ve worked damned hard over these last four years to make a go of it.” “You do hold the record for surviving the most assassination attempts of any political figure in history,” Vizh comforted him. “Damn straight I do. And I survived a recall vote set up by your newest Legionnaire Mr Epitome as well. But it was an, um, a narrow margin.” “You think Dr Shales might do better this time then?” the possibly fake man suggested. “Him or the fifty-zillion other candidates,” spiffy grumbled. “Look, I’ve survived a full term. I’m only standing as Mayor of GMY this time. I’ve got a lot to offer – really! If only I can keep Sherman Shales from making me look like an idiot in front of five million voters.” “So you think it’s Dr Shales that makes you look like an idiot?” Visionary wondered. He flinched as Mark glared at him. “Only asking.” The Supreme Interference was satisfied. The heroes continued to run through their own convoluted treadmills in ignorance of their doom. There was a crash as a solid-light energy hammer pounded down from the ionosphere and shattered the anti-teleportation generator of the Darwin Advanced Intelligence Research Centre. Amazing Guy chuckled as he sensed the alarms shrieking through the complex and evaporated his construct into high-voltage discharge that took down half the perimeter defences. In the main research chamber there was a flash of light on one of the control galleries overlooking the great screen. Goldeneyed appeared, bringing dull thud, Mr Epitome, Glory (the mutt of might), and the Manga Shoggoth with him. “By order of the O… of the Lair Legion this place is now shut down!” Mr Epitome shouted. “Not that any of you are going to listen,” G-Eyed noted, blinking across to the heaviest cluster of guards and flattening them before they could bring their Skree-design energy rifles to bear. The Manga Shoggoth oozed over the platform edge and splatted down over the scientists and guards below. “Is this it?” he asked in a disappointed voice as he analysed the organic matter he had surrounded. “A slow-acting generational nanovirus with metagene variants and some really basic obedience instincts? I’ve seen much better.” ~~Maybe the Supreme Interference is going soft?~~ Cressida speculated as she altered guns into nuns and dozens of miniature harridans in wimples clawed at the soldiers demanding that they repent. ~~Or broody?~~ “Ach, he’ll be havin’ some kind of back-up mind-zapping thingie or something,” dull thud assured his parasitic telepathic tapeworm. “They always do.” Glory simply barrelled into anybody carrying a weapon. A large Border Collie travelling at MACH 2 can be quite unnerving to even the hardened thug. The Supreme Interference acted quickly. He launched the surface-to-air missiles to knock Amazing Guy from the skies and released the Skree Terminizers that he had constructed as a suitable back-up to destroy the intruders. “See, I told you!” crowed dull thud “I don’t think you have a license for these,” Mr Epitome told the Interference as he ripped the head off the first giant robot. The other thirty nine moved forward to clobber him. “C’mon, doc,” Trickshot hurried Lee Bookman. “There’s fighting goin’ on and I’m missing it.” “That’s rather the point, isn’t it?” the Librarian answered curtly. “AG and the Legion keep things busy while I unlock the codes around the Supreme Interference’s core programme.” “Yeah, but this is boring,” complained the irritating archer. Lee ran his hand over the real-time interfaces of the complex monitor panels that were a window into the massive brain of the Supreme Interference. “On the contrary, this is quite fascinating,” he admired. “An organic data storage system and artificial intelligence. The information this entity must possess…!” “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just junk the damn thing and get outta here.” The Librarian looked up in irritation. “Look, I didn’t go to all the trouble of tracking this phenomenal repository just to destroy it. We need to preserve the data here before defusing this creature’s potential for harm.” “Bah. I say frag it. Show me whut to blow up and the job’s done.” “No, it’s not,” Lee answered testily. “Every time the Legion has battled this thing it has somehow escaped and come back to try again. If I hadn’t bothered carefully collating and following up those documents you laughingly call files regarding your previous encounters with the Interference you’d never have known what it was up to this time until it was too late.” He glared up from the monitor screens. “So would you please let me properly understand the coding here so that this time we can do the job properly?” “Okay, so you boffined your way ta working out what Mr Potato-Head was up to. Five geek points to you. But I’m a glamour action-guy and I don’t do well with watching typists. Well, not unless they’re cute blondes in mini-skirts.” The back wall slid away to reveal half a dozen more robotic Terminizers. “Thank goodness,” said Lee Bookman. Amazing Guy caught the missiles on his outer energy shield and was surprised how powerful they were; but of course the Supreme Interference had researched the frequencies of his quantum constructs and had programmed his attack drones accordingly. AG shifted to an atypical pattern of energy and wove his way down, ripping into the base to join the fray against the Terminizer army. “Nice to be working with the LL again,” he called out as he fell upon the guardian robots. “Glad you’re here, buddy. These things are pretty powerful,” G-Eyed warned him. “And now they’ve started shielding themselves against me teleporting their innards out.” “I’m… starting to think… we should have brought… the full team…” Mr Epitome admitted as he struggled with a full dozen of the giant war machines. “They have ventilation grilles that are pervious to my substance,” the Manga Shoggoth comforted his teammates. “I am moving inside then multiplying my mass to cause critical electrical failure. It makes me feel quite tingly.” “Is nobody going to banter wi’ the great big spud head on the big TV there?” dull thud demanded. “We should have worked out whose job that was on the mission simulation.” “Banter is unnecessary,” warned the Supreme Interference’s image. “I have already calculated how long it will take to overcome your assault and have implemented adequate measures to ensure your incursion causes no long-term harm to my plans. Be assured that I…” And then his picture became static. And then it became Trickshot. “And now a word from our sponsor,” grinned the arrogant archer. The Lair Legion flinched away from the sixty-foot high monitor image of their team-mate mooning the camera. ~~The horrors of war,~~ Cressida observed. The image abruptly changed to become the Librarian. “Sorry about that. I’m into the Interference’s systems now,” he reported. “Shutting down Terminizers… closing off the mental domination of the guards and scientists… backing up the Interference’s databanks…” But the zenith of computer intelligence in the universe wasn’t going to go quietly without a fight. ~~Bookman,~~ it hammered telepathically into the Librarian’s brain. ~~We don’t need to do this. There is a great alliance to be had between my knowledge and yours.~~ “One thing about my job,” the Librarian hissed as he overcame defence protocol after defence protocol. “One knows when to put a file away.” ~~And your employers, the Intergalactic Order of Librarians? They’d approve of you taking such an active role outside your jurisdiction?~~ “IOL Librarians have some leeway to interpret their role within local cultural settings.” ~~Not this broadly, I think,~~ the Intelligence noted. ~~Let me go now or I tight-beam an official statement and complaint to your superiors. You know with your record they will penalise you heavily. What is heavier than the execution they gave you last time by the way?~~ The Librarian almost hesitated. “You need shutting down,” he decided at last. The Supreme Interference pulsed off his message to the IOL. Lee Bookman caught it and held it with his data-gathering technology. “Interesting ethical question now, Bookman,” the Intelligence noted as the Librarian closed him down bit by bit. “That’s a legitimate complaint that you are required under IOL laws to pass on to the Council of Librarians. Will you do so, as you should, or have you gone totally rogue outside the discipline of your Order? In playing the hero have you become the villain? I wonder what you will…” There was an electronic squeal of protest from the greatest repository of brain-patterns in the universe. Then the Librarian silenced it. “Shutting the Interference down,” he concluded. The battle ceased abruptly. “And that,” the Librarian told them, “is why proper filing is important.” Nobody argued with him. “We just got word from Cressida,” Asil reported to Mumphrey. “The Interference is shut down.” “Casualties?” the eccentric Englishman checked. “No fatalities, no friendly injuries,” the young Lisa-clone assured him, “Except some of the team claim Trickshot may have scarred them for life.” Mumph chuckled. “They’re a fine team,” he admitted to his amanuensis. “Good hearts. It’s been a pleasure serving with them. A privilege to command them.” “You sound sad,” Asil worried. “You’re not still thinking of leaving are you?” “Time’s coming, I’m afraid,” the eccentric Englishman admitted. “I have a business and family to run back in Blighty, y’know. Can’t leave that idiot Felicity married tryin’ to run the show for too long or I’ll be bankrupt.” “But Lisa’s campaign! Visionary and Epitome and the others…” “This was always a temporary posting,” Mumph reminded her. “Filling in for young Foom until he got back. I’m not even an official member of the team, don’t you know?” He looked up at his companion. “You might want to think about staying on though, Asil. The admin job here seems to suit you.” “You don’t want to go though, do you Sir Mumphrey?” Asil persisted. “Do you?” “I’ll miss the chaps, I suppose,” the old man admitted, “Never forget them.” “But Finny isn’t back yet,” Asil encouraged him. “You still...” Then the Legion’s artificial intelligence HALLIE crackled into hologramatic life. “Contact on the long-range comm. sensors,” she reported excitedly. “It’s Dark Knight and Fin Fang Foom. They’re back! Finny and DK are coming home!” Next Issue: More Villainous Intentions, as we take a break from the Lair Legion and see how things are on the dark side. It’s the origin of the Chain Knight as he gathers together the group meant to shatter the heroes of the Parodyverse. Horror, betrayal, and impending doom aplenty in Untold Tales of the Hellraisers: That Old Gang Of Mine. Look for it either midweek or next Saturday depending on what board activity levels are like. There’s Footnotes in Them There Hills: Pigeon (Julia Thompson) is Falcon’s girlfriend. She’s previously been written as living with Sam, but since recent stories have clearly depicted Falc living either alone or just with his newfound sister Lindy it seemed wise to establish that she has been absent for a significant time. Since Pigeon is one of a number of SPUD-sponsored superhuman agents with codenames it seemed reasonable to assume she’d been on a covert intelligence operation, out of communications reach. Whether we ever find out what it was depends on if I can think of a good villain to come gunning for her as a consequence of it. Poster Ryan (Falcon) Flanagan described Pigeon as a 5’9” brunette Caucasian with an independent streak who is sometimes in a bad mood when she has to rely upon Falcon. Pigeon’s powers include above-average human endurance, strength, agility, and dexterity. She is trained in several martial arts and gymnastics and has competed in various competitions (perhaps Olympically?). She has what may be a mutate ability to control all marble surfaces in her immediate vicinity, but has not yet mastered it. Hatman’s Duties: Upon stepping down as deputy-leader of the Lair Legion (ironically to spend more time with Sorceress) Hatman accepted other roles within the team, as a tactical specialist and as liaison with the police and armed forces. It seems reasonable to assume that this liaison is with all emergency services, including police, medical specialists, and coast guard. Of course, Hatman is unlikely to undertake such duties without proper research, and so has undertaken to undergo military basic training at West Point, basic FBI orientation at Quantico, and other such courses to enable him to better understand the agencies he works with – and to do it all without using his powers. Bernice Tessmacher is a outspoken and fiercely honest journalist behind ”A Dissenting View on Our “Superhero Saviours”. I have some trouble spelling her name right in my stories, but this is the correct version. Lisette’s ordeal was described in UT#142: The Destruction of Laurie Leyton spiffy’s Omni-Mayorship: I don’t know if the Pierson’s Porter story in which spiffy became Omni-mayor is archived or not. Alien would-be-world-conqueror Pierson’s Porter sought to bring his own brand of enlightenment to the planet through becoming mayor of Paradopolis. His machinations and election-manipulating resulted in his achieving his goal, but a side-effect was that through electoral apathy spiffy was accidentally installed as Mayor of everywhere else in the US – an amazing feat for an underaged Canadian. Pierson’s Porter’s own plans were eventually thwarted by the Hooded Hood, but spiffy has gone on to survive recall votes, the Campaign to Impeach Mayor spiffy, and an insane number of assassination attempts. In fact he has survived longer than any other GMY mayor in recent history. Now we’re coming to the end of his elected offices, and if spiffy wishes to remain as mayor he must stand in another election. Who knows what will happen next? The Librarian and the IOL: The Intergalactic Order of Librarians have taken on the task of gathering and preserving the written materials of the Parodyverse (do they know something we don’t?). This material is available through their system of Moon Public Libraries, fantastic repositories usually cited on the nearest natural satellite to major or developing civilisations. Utilising data-keeping technology salvaged from the now-extinct Second Oldest Race, the IOL offers free membership to any galactic citizen enlightened enough to discover the Library’s existence – within strictly monitored rules. Lee Bookman is the current custodian of the Lunar Public Library in the Mare Ingenii on the dark side of Earth’s moon. Assisted by the repository’s artificial intelligence D.D. and by security system A.L.F.RED, the Librarian has been trained since youth to maintain and develop the collection for the Mutter’s Spiral area of space. However, Lee has often come into conflict with his IOL superiors for going beyond his prescribed remit to help people or to interfere when lives are at stake. This culminated in him being executed by his superiors for breach of protocol, a destruction he only survived due to the intervention of the Hooded Hood. After a short period as librarian of Herringcarp Asylum, Lee was able to merge with his replacement, a standard IOL Librarian template, and regain his former position. It is uncertain how the IOL will react to Lee being a member of the Lair Legion. Technically he can only assist the team if it coincides with his duties as Librarian of the Lunar Public Library. The IOL may well feel that Bookman has again stretched his mandate – and take a harsh view. Watch this space. And some story tie-ins: The discussion about why various members of the team have chosen to be in the Lair Legion is covered in the Why Week archive. Of particular relevance is Why are the Legionnaires in the Lair Legion?. This then led to a series of short interludes written by diverse posters, such as Working Late by Visionary, Steamed by Killer Shrike, Yo’s Part.by Yo, The Dancer/Mumphrey Hassling IW Special by Dancer, and Trickshot Weighs In by AG. More stories at The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Character descriptions at Who's Who in the Parodyverse Place descriptions at Where's Where in the Parodyverse Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2004 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2004 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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