Of Masks and Marvels
By Bek D Corbin
edited by Steve Zink
This
chapter is dedicated to Ranma27
Chapter Twenty Seven
I came down to breakfast wearing a jumpsuit, utility
vest and work boots. Ma stopped, looked at me and said, “Maxine Shanna
Fitzgerald, what do you think you are wearing?”
“Work clothes.”
“You. Are going to work. Dressed like THAT?”
“Well, sure, Ma! I’m starting work as Maxine.
Remember, I’m doubling up shifts, making out like ‘Dan’ is mentoring ‘Maxine’
at the station, so there’s no inconvenient ‘Hey, Dan disappeared just about the
time that Maxine showed up’ connections.”
“That’s NOT what I’m talking about.”
“Well, what is, then?”
“That. That ensemble you’re wearing.”
“What about it?”
“I am NOT going to have you seen going on the bus
looking like that! Now you get back upstairs, young lady, and you put on
something that’s presentable!”
“But I WORK in these clothes!”
“And what does that have to do with anything? When
you’re stringing wire, you can dress like that; but when you’re on the street,
you are going to look respectable, Young Lady!”
Jeez, you think that you’re getting the hang of the
being a woman thing, and then stuff like this comes out of Left Field and slaps
you in the head. Well, never argue with the lady who pays the rent...
Hey! _I_ pay the rent these days!
Still, I headed upstairs and changed. Farce of
habit. When I came down, Eli was eating breakfast. “Yo, Max! When you gonna get
dressed for work?”
“I am.” I jerked my head at Ma as she worked the
eggs. “The Management has instituted a Dress Code.”
Eli grumped. “May have to talk to the Union about
this.”
I kicked Eli under the table. “Shaddap,” I
whispered, “while you’re still getting free rent.”
Ma shoveled some eggs onto Eli’s plate. “Maxine has
a higher standard to maintain now. Nobody complains if Dan and Eli go shuffling
around looking like ragamuffins, they’re used to it. But Maxine is new in the
neighborhood, and people will wonder why a good looking young lady like her
doesn’t put some more effort into being presentable, if she goes around in
scruffs.”
Eli wisely saw that this was my problem, not his,
and shut up. We spent the morning chatting about what had happened at the
convention. Or at any rate, Ma and I talked about it, while Eli drooled over
the pictures from the Tech Show. I could tell that Ma was fishing for some
dirt, so I told her about my midnight rendezvous with Ted on the green. And no,
I didn’t tell her about whacking Ted off. There are some things you just don’t
talk to your mother about!
Then something occurred to me. “um, Ma?”
“Yes, Dear?”
“You’re very interested in my private life.”
“Well, of course I am! I’m your mother!”
“You’re not using this as grist for the gossip mill,
are you?”
“WHAT? Well! What do you take me for?”
“I take you for a woman with a ton of juicy dish,
and apparently no one to tell it to.”
Ma wilted a little. “Okay, so -- maybe the topic of
your love life DOES come up once in while, down at work.”
“Mmmaaahhh----“
“Well, I don’t tell them that you’re a superhero,
or anything! I just, well, you’re a good looking young woman, and you’re
single-”
“Ma, you haven’t been setting me up on a date, or
anything, have you?”
“No! Well, Muriel Kutchner does have a son who’s
single--”
“Mmmaaahhh!!”
“I didn’t commit you to anything! And, well, if
you’re otherwise engaged-”
“You didn’t say that I was engaged, did you?”
Eli called a time out before Ma could bury herself
any further, and we headed to work.
*****
As we got to the station, I said, “Are you sure that
Bernice got my fat suit and ‘Dan’ rig set up and running?”
“You could have asked that before you copped the
very last seat on the bus!”
“Hey, I did NOT ‘cop the very last seat’! The guy
got up and offered it to me. I couldn’t have refused!”
“Why not?”
“It would have been rude!”
“You could have offered it to your little brother!”
“Are YOU the one walking around in two-inch heels?”
“So, I’m supposed to be punished for having the good
sense to wear sane shoes, as opposed to the portable torture chambers that
you’re wearing?”
“And on to a more relevant topic - how is my voice?”
“Why? You got a frog in your throat or something?”
“No, I mean, does my ‘Maxine’ voice sound different
from my ‘Lady Lightning’ voice?”
“God, you are SO paranoid!”
“Eli, just remember, if a superhero ever blows his
secret ID, the first ones that the bad guys go after are his family.”
“eerrr...Let’s hear your ‘Lady Lightning’ voice
again.” I recited ‘I sing the body electric’ by Whitman - or as much of it as I
could remember - in my ‘superheroine’ voice. Eli nodded. “An octave or so
higher, a little sharper, maybe a little less oomph... It’ll do, Eliza.”
At that point we got to the reception desk, and Eli
flashed his company ID. I asked for Moody, the IBEW shop steward, and got
buzzed in. Moody thought that I was a new receptionist - I knew I should have
come in dressed to work for real! - but Eli convinced him that I was the ‘Max’
that ‘Dan’ was bringing in.
Since ‘Dan’ was ‘late’, since he ‘had to commute
from his new digs’, Eli ‘showed me around’ and ‘introduced’ me to the other
wire-jocks. So far, so mundane. Then Reyes came in, and Eli managed to time it
so that he ‘introduced’ me to her, just as she was drinking her first cup of
coffee. Spit take time!
She pulled me aside and demanded, “Dammit, Maxham,
what the HELL are you doing?”
I grinned evilly at her. “It’s Fitzgerald, now. Or,
Maxine, if you really wanna presume on such a short acquaintance.”
“What ARE you up to?”
“Hey, you’re the one that’s been riding me to get
with the program. I told you about this last week, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, but gimme a break, I expected you to
drag your heels on it for a month or two, like you usually do.” Then her eyes
narrowed. “And what’s with the voice?”
“Hey, Lady Lightning has a rather distinctive voice,
no? It wouldn’t do for me to go around with that lovely velvet purr-”
“Jesus Marimba,
I’ve created a monster - it’s discovered vanity!” She got herself another cup
of coffee. “Okay, now how are we gonna make people think there are two of you?”
I smirked at her. “The
curtain is just going up on Act One.” I pointed to the glass partition on one
of the control booths. Reyes almost dropped her coffee when she saw Dan Maxham
walk into the booth and start talking to Eli.
“Hey, Max!” ‘Dan’ said
through the intercom. “Get in here!”
Reyes numbly followed me
into the booth, and only found Eli. “Where is he? What is he, a robot or
something?”
Eli just pointed at a
small projector plugged into a phone socket. “Nope! Hologram projector, showing
an image onto the glass pane. The image is CGI, run by the AEGIS computer.”
I grinned. “It’s a
standard ‘Secret Identity Protective Measure’ that AEGIS offers its members.
Helps to keep those, ‘Hey, have you ever noticed that you never see Clark Kent
and Superman together?’ moments to a minimum. AND-” I stepped out of sight of
the window, “-for the piece de resistance...” I triggered the ‘suit-up’
function, and suddenly *Viola!* I was in my ‘Dan Maxham’ outfit. It even
managed to get the makeup off. “Instant Change!”
Reyes shook her head.
“Maxham, you are cutting this WAY too close.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but
it’s only for a few weeks, and it’s not like I have a lot of choice. Besides,
by and large, people only see what they expect to see. And, we’ll be spending a
lot of time out in the NewsLemon, so we’ll be whittling down on our window of
vulnerability as much as we can.”
“What’s this ‘We’, Fat
Boy?” Reyes took another slurp of coffee. “I still say you’re just doing this
to get into the women’s restroom.”
*****
After doing a little
slight of hand at the station to get the rest of the station wire-hogs to
accept that Dan and Maxine were separate people, we finally got out on the
road. Reyes leaned back and said, “Hey, MAX - two questions. One: why are you
lounging around in your girlsuit?”
“Because, I’m turning
into a girl - er, No, scratch that, a woman, - remember?”
“Good. That ‘fatsuit’ was
getting embarrassing. Next question: what ARE you doing to the wiring?”
“Well, ‘Tech Support’ and
Bernice-”
“Bernice?”
“AEGIS’ resident
technical genius, and the person who makes sure the teleportation system
doesn’t rip a hole in the fabric of Time and Space.”
“BERNICE? What kind of
name for a mad scientist is Bernice?”
“Hey!” Eli piped
up, “She’s not MAD! She’s just a little...pissy...”
Reyes looked at him, the
gleam of the reporter on the hunt in her beady little eyes. “What’s this? Love
among the circuit boards? Passion behind the control panel? Hearts and silicon
chips? And how long has THIS been going on, hhhmmm??”
I let Reyes grill him on
this for a while, so in retaliation Eli dropped the ball on the convention. The
little fink! “WHAT? There was a superhero convention, and
you didn’t TELL ME?”
“Hey, it was a convention
rule,” I defended myself, “no press involved - well, except for the ‘Clark
Kent’ set.”
“Superheroes have a
convention? I never even heard a peep about it! How long has this been going
on?”
“Oh, everyone knows about
it, Reyes. They just didn’t tell you.”
Of course, Reyes had to
know every little detail, so I hadda do a little recap of what I told Ma. But,
when I got to the midnight rendezvous, I went into a lot more graphic detail,
including *ahem!* ‘unzipping’ Ted.
“Ah, Max, I don’t
remember this part, in what you told Ma.”
“Of course not! You think
I’m going to tell my MOTHER that I str-”
“LA-LA-LE-LA-LA-LA-LE-LA!”
Eli sang and he covered his ears, “I’m not HEARING this!”
“And he was so BIG and
HARD-”
“Yeah, though I
walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no Evil...”
“And then he grunted, and
started to-”
“THAT DOES IT!” Eli
stopped the NewsLemon and got out. “I –ah- gotta...use the little boy’s room!
Yeah, that’s the ticket!”
I looked at Eli’s
retreating back. “Oh, so THAT’s what’s so amusing about needling guys!”
Reyes leaned forward
avidly. “Was he really that big?”
I held my hands apart,
showing Ted’s rough dimensions.
“_wwwuuuuf!_”
Reyes said in an awed voice.
Well, so much for the
‘size doesn’t really matter’ bit.
*****
I managed to drag Eli out
of the ‘little boys room’, and we were able to get to work. That is, if you can
call hanging outside an office building, waiting for some crooked businessman
if he wants to own up to overcharging the local schools for faulty air
conditioning vents, WORK.
Hey, at least they pay us
to do it.
*****
Well, the aforementioned
ratbag had nothing to say, but Eli managed to shoot him in such a way that he
looked even guiltier for not saying anything. This is called ‘trying someone in
the press’. I’m not proud of it, but Reyes is very careful about putting the
nails in the coffin before she goes for the body.
Still, after a hard day’s
waiting around for ratbag to poke his nose out of his hole, Reyes was ready to
go back to the station and start editing footage. Oh, Joy. Normally, I sort of
enjoy doing a little honest work on the station’s equipment, but I’m not
looking forward to doing the stage magic shuffle for hours on end.
Then, my AEGIS
communicator beeped. Saved by the bell! “Lady Lightning here!” Eli gestured
feverishly, pointing at his throat and mouth. Oh! My voice! I quickly shifted
to my ‘Lady Lightning’ voice. “Hello?”
“Yo, El-El!” Titan said,
“You busy?”
“Yo, Deigo! Well, that
sort of depends on what you mean by ‘busy’. I’m at work, but I’m not really
doing anything that I can’t leave. Wuzzup, big guy? Normally, it’s ‘get over
here NOW!’, not ‘are you busy?’.”
“Well, we've got a
situation, nothing major, and I’m the only person on duty, and it’s kinda outta
my league.”
“Titan, I’ve seen you
lift Main Battle Tanks and throw them like softballs! What’s out of your
league, that I could handle?”
“Ah, well, I’m not so
good with negotiations.”
“Negotiation?”
“Remember that guy Clark?
The one who said that he wanted to help us financially? Well, he’s here with
his sec- oh, sorry, assistant, and he says that he wants to talk about-
what was it, again?”
“He’s there?”
“Oh Yeah.”
“Well, why not phone Hex?
She’s the one who usually handles that stuff, and she’s a full member, not an
‘affiliate’ like me.”
“Tried her. And Iron
John. And Justiciar. You’re the first one that I can trust to handle this,
that’s been available.”
“Hold the phone.” I
turned to Reyes. “I gotta go.” I turned to Eli, “We set to go?”
“What are you two up to?”
“The next wave of
superhero deployment,” Eli said in his ‘high- tech demonstrator’ voice. “No
more hooking up to a hard line. Now, we can teleport to AEGIS HQ directly from
the NewsLemon, as long as we’re within 500 yards of at least three cell phone
routers. The problem before was always a matter of accuracy - there’s nothing
like a landline to let you know exactly where someone’s calling from.
But, with this hardware hooked up to both the NewsLemon and AEGIS’ GPS, we can
use the router signals to triangulate a precise position to the teleporter’s
incoming coordinate grid-”
“In other words, I don’t
have to go out and plug your stupid gizmo into a pay phone anymore?”
“Well, if you wanna be boring
about it…”
I didn’t hear Reyes’
response to that, because we got the signal, and I was out of there.
*****
I popped into the
transporter reception room, and I was met there by a complete stranger, who was
looking peevishly at a watch. “You should have been here five minutes ago.”
“And exactly who are you?”
I asked, making a point of not letting an obvious mindfuck get to me.
“I am Magda Filberts,
Mister Clarke’s Executive Assistant. Mister Clarke is a very busy man, he’s
being very generous, giving you this much of his time.” Magda was the
‘executive secretary by way of spinster schoolmarm’ type. She spoke with just
enough of an accent that I wondered who she married, to get her green card.
Poor Sap. She wasn’t that bad looking - decent body, handsome face, decent
haircut, very good clothes - but she was one of those people who just couldn’t
put it all together and make it work. But a major part of that was her
permanent look of mild dissatisfaction. Whoever Mister Filberts was, he
obviously wasn’t keeping her happy. I got the distinct impression that she got
more satisfaction out of being Clarke’s secretary than anything that might be
waiting for her at home.
“Well then,” I smiled
back, “why are you wasting my time?” I walked past her in the general direction
of the conference room. She skittered after me, nattering away at what generous
lengths her precious Mister Clarke was going to for AEGIS. It wasn’t that long
a trip down the hall, but by the end of it, I was ready to pop her one.
Clarke was in the
conference room, with Jacobs, his lawyer and Titan. Clarke started to say
something, but I beat him to the punch. “Okay, your Miss Filberts-”
“MRS. FILBERTS!”
“Whatever. Filberts tells
me that you’re a busy man, in a big hurry, and I’m taking time out from my own
life for this. So, let’s get down to it. What do you want?” I folded my arms
across my chest. Hey, if he wants to play attitude games, bring it on.
Clarke straightened his
tie. “Well, to be honest, I just wanted to sit down with you people, to discuss
what you really need.”
“What, you couldn’t talk
this over, on the phone?”
“Have you ever
teleconferenced, Lady Lightning? It’s just not the same as personal contact. It
was all the rage a few years ago, but these days, business people only do it if
they’re a couple of thousand miles apart. For involved discussions, it’s
face-to-face, these days.”
“Okay, I can see that.
But could you at least schedule? I do have a life outside this outfit, y’know.”
Clarke gave me an
embarrassed grin. “Sorry! I’m so caught up with my own schedule, that it never
occurred to me that a superhero would have one of their own. Are you busy, at,
say 10 o’clock tonight?”
“Nothing that I can’t put
on hold. I’ll get in touch with Iron John and Ms. Hex, and see if they can make
it.”
“You do that. Here’s my
card, with my address.” With that, Clarke and his entourage left.
“What? All this hubbub
for THAT?” I asked Titan.
He shrugged at me. “Hey.
Rich people. Go figger.”
*****
When I got in touch with
both Hex and John, they both begged off. It seems that they both had spent more
time on the horn with Mister Clarke than either of them was really happy with,
and they weren’t exactly looking forward to more time, face to face. Can’t say
that I blame them. There was something about Clarke that demanded you recognize
that he was the guy in charge, even when he was supposedly doing you a favor.
But then I suppose that’s his business style, and you can’t really expect him
to turn it off, just like that.
*****
Well, Clarke was
something of a pain in the ass, but AEGIS did need new equipment, so at the
stroke of 10 PM, I was flying over the tops of the city, on my way to Clarke’s
penthouse. Yep, Clarke was apparently the ‘penthouse’ type, not the ‘big
rambling house out in the burbs’ type. He was obviously expecting me, as he had
all the lights on, out on the patio. Or veranda. Or whatever you call what
passes for a back yard on a penthouse.
That ‘left the lights on’
notion went *pop!* when I spotted the evening gowns and tuxedoes. It
seemed that Clarke was throwing some kind of party. Strictly black tie, from
the looks of it, one of those dos where the Movers and Shakers trot out their
glad rags to make a noise about some ‘worthy cause’ or another. I got a few odd
looks as I walked off the veranda (or whatever) into the penthouse proper, but
nobody raised any kind of ruckus. Oh well, at least it wasn’t one of those
‘String Quartet’ affairs - Clarke had a Big Band outfit there, playing Swing
tunes from the 1940s.
I was looking around for
Clarke himself when a suspiciously fit looking type with a no non-sense look on
his face came up to me. “Can I see your identification?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your Impersonators
Agency identification.”
“Come again?”
He gave a martyred sigh,
“Okay, your ‘Celebrity Tribute Performers’ ID.”
“I have NO idea of what
you’re talking about. I’m here to see Mr. Clarke. Where is he?
“You mean, you don’t have
the ‘Mirror Image Talent Agency’ identification?”
“No, why would I?”
He grabbed me by the
upper arm and muttered into his lapel, “Contact. We have a ringer, trying to
slip in, using the Lookalike gag. She’s dressed as Lady Lightning, and carrying
a satchel with unknown contents.”
“Hey! Hands off! I was
asked here!”
“And I suppose you have
an invitation.”
“I’m here to see Clarke,
not this idiot party.”
By this time, there were
three other ‘Men In Black’ clones surrounding me. The guy with his hand on my
arm said, “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to hand over that accordion
folder.”
“Okay, you’re obviously
Security, so I’m not going to rip your arm off. I am Lady Lightning, from
AEGIS, and I was invited here to discuss some donations that Clarke has offered
to make to AEGIS. This folder contains details of needed equipment upgrades for
AEGIS.”
The first guy snorted.
“Yeah, right.”
I didn’t even want to be
there in the first place. I gave him a powerful shock, and sent him flying. His
compadres went for their guns. “Don’t even try it, assholes.” I threw the
folder at one of them. “Tell Clarke that I don’t have time for this bullshit.
If he wants to make a donation, tell him the Salvation Army does good work.”
I turned, and was on my
way through the crowd, when Clarke himself came up to me. “Lady Lightning! So
good to see you!”
“I’m glad, ‘cause this is
all that you’re gonna see of me!” I pushed past him.
“Where are you going?”
“Hey, I did NOT come
here, just because you’re too cheap to hire a lookalike!”
“Actually,” he said
smoothly, “I hired the lookalike, so that your presence here wouldn’t be
noticed.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, if you haven’t
noticed, doing business with superheroes is a touchy business. On one hand, if
you let everyone know that you’re helping the local supers out, you become a
big red flag to every nut job in a mask. On the other hand, if you make a
secret of it, eventually someone will get wind of it, and then people start
making conspiracy noises, and it’s an even bigger mess. This way, we can
honestly say that we met openly in public, but no one will think twice about
it.”
“And you call meeting
during a party ‘open and in public’?”
“Why not? People do
business during these things all the time. Also, if it ever comes down to it,
you can always say that you came here to help guard the main exhibit.”
“Main exhibit?”
He walked me through the
glittering crowd to a cleared space in the main room, where there were several
glass cases. “This little soiree is to try and scare up donations for the
Museum of Sciences. Our big draw is this collection of pretty pebbles.” He
gestured at the cases. Inside the cases was the gaudiest, most glittering
collection of precious metals and stones since Liberace died. “This is a
representative exhibition of masterworks of the Jeweler’s craft, including
items from Louis Comfort Tiffany, and two Faberge eggs.”
I gave him the cold fish
eye. “You brought this stuff out of the museum? What, you OWN the insurance
company?”
“Oh, you may have
noticed, we have some very tight security,” he said, smugly.
“Yeah, not bad - if you
were dealing with normal crooks.”
“Well, that’s part of the
reason why I asked that a member of AEGIS be here tonight. This way, we can get
a few details ironed out, and just in case one of the Halloween crew shows up,
we have the city’s premier superheroine on the scene to handle it. AEGIS gets
its gear upgraded, and my ulcer gets the night off.”
I shrugged. The way that
Clarke had it set up, if anything happened after I split, he’d be able to
deflect blame from himself by pointing out that I’d left them high and dry.
Looks like I’m gonna have to rub elbows with the Rich and Powerful, and hope
that I don’t pick up any nasty habits.
Clarke and I were
chatting about AEGIS’ communications array - I cannot get away from relay
panels today! - when one of the guests, a shapely young lady with long dark
hair and a minxish face in a powder blue satin evening gown and matching heels,
swayed up to the display, an obviously well-used champagne glass in her hand.
She leaned over the glass and cooed appreciatively. “oooh! I’ll take that one -
and that one - and that one - oh, yeah! And THAT one!” She pointed at this one
thing that looked more like a glass doorknob than an objet d’art.
One of the security guys
came over and said, “Please, Miss, don’t lean on the glass.”
“But if I do that,” she
said in blurry voice, “how’m I gonna get at all the pretty-shinies?”
He took her by the arm.
“Please, Miss.”
“Oh, let me alone! I’m
trying to remember the words to ‘Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend’! ‘A kiss
on the hand maybe quite Continental-”
The Security guy was
about to put her out of all our miseries by securing her arm with both hands,
when she reversed the grab and threw him into the glass display. The display
must have been bulletproof glass, since it didn’t shatter when he hit. Not that
that was much of a relief for the Security guy; being throw into a brick wall
isn’t that much of an improvement on being thrown through a glass wall.
The party immediately
stopped dead, and everyone all looked at the woman with a single gaze. “Well,
ALL RIGHT!” she exulted, “This party was WAY too damn boring! But
don’t you worry!” She held up a hand and spiral of glittering light wound
itself down her body. When the glitter faded, her strapless evening gown was
gone. She was wearing an outfit that consisted of a powder blue strapless
mini-dress, a matching hooded cape that came down to about her ass. She had
long white gloves that came up to about mid-biceps, and matching mid-thigh
high-heeled boots. The hood shadowed half of her face in that way which
pseudo-mystical types like so much. A pair of silver Eyes of Thoth set in
rounded triangular amber-ish stones secured the cape. Similar catches fastened
her belt, and were on the back of her hands. Metallic snakes of some sort wound
around her gloves and boots. “It’s your lucky day! KISMEThas arrived!
“I know, I know - you’re
asking yourselves: ‘Gee, WHAT did a worthless schmuck like ME ever do to
deserve a visit from Kismet?’ Well, to be honest, NOTHING! So, I’ll
just help myself to all the lovely goodies, and you all just stand there like
overdressed mannequins, and don’t get in my way, ‘Kay?”
The four security guys
snapped into position, surrounding her with guns drawn. “Freeze! You’re
surrounded!”
“Oh, please,” she
muttered none too under her breath. With flickers of both hands, she produced
two fans of playing cards. The cards flared with silver-blue flame, and she
sent volleys of the cards at the guards on both sides of her. The cards hit the
guards like runaway trains and sent them tumbling. “It never fails! An Artiste
tries to bring something special to the wretched masses-” she gave the
elegantly dressed crowd a pitying glance, “-and as, always, there’s a critic,
bound and determined to cast a pall on the show!”
I stepped forward,
clapping. “Brava! Brava! Wonderful performance! What’s your next trick?
Gargling peanut butter?”
Kismet copped a ‘tude,
propping one fist on her hip. “Oh, get real! Listen, Honey, I know that
Clarke hired a Lady Lightning impersonator for the party. I’ll give you props
for nerve and all that, but there’s no way that you’re gonna bluff me out of
this, so why don’t you just step back, before you talk yourself into a
full-body cast?”
She wasn’t expecting
anything, so I used her overconfidence to lead off with a very complex
combination, something that I normally wouldn’t have the opening to pull off. I
lead off with a crushing stomp on her instep, followed by a snap-punch to her
solar plexus. As she reacted to the jab to the breadbasket by keeling over, I
used that to judo throw her away from the display case, into the ice sculpture
swan.
Why is it, that it’s
always a swan?
Kismet landed with a big
crash, and I heard a muffled, “_oh, shit_”
I yelled, “Everybody OUT!
Security, get these people OUT of here! I’ll try and keep the damage to a
minimum! Secure the exhibit, but only AFTER you get the guests out!”
“That’s right!” Kismet
exulted as she kippuped from the heap that she’d landed in. “Get the bystanders
outta here, ‘kawze I’ze gonna need me sum FAIGHTIN’ REWM!” She produced another
set of fans of cards and charged them up.
“Oh, Card Tricks,” I
sneered. “Well, I suppose that it’s better than ventriloquism, or - God Help Us
- Mime.” I gave her a hefty jolt of electricity, but she deflected them with
her fans of cards.
“Oh,” she sneered back,
“a Spider-Man wannabee. Well, try THIS for cutting wit!” She tossed a volley of
cards at me. I immediately realized that they were metal, and charged with some
sort of electromagnetic power, so I deflected them easily.
Heck, I even snatched one
out of the air. “Sorry, but that wasn’t my card. I picked the Pair of
Handcuffs!” I immediately pulled the pair that I had in my utility belt.
“Gee, I’m sorry,” Kismet
jeered, “but I’m afraid they just don’t go with my outfit. Maybe you should
keep them - they go so well, with your dated, ‘Gee, I’m so 80s’ ensemble.” She
held her hands out in front of her, and a ball of that silvery blue energy
formed. It erupted into a screaming bird of that silvery blue flame and came
flying at me. I tried to deflect it as well, but I couldn’t get the frequency,
and I took it full in the face. As I was trying to cope with that, Kismet gave
me the bird again. This time, she chucked that stupid swan ice sculpture at me.
“Chill Out!”
“Excuse me, but did you
just say ‘Chill Out’, as you threw an ice sculpture at me? Jeez, that crack was
almost as lame as YOUR outfit!” I did my magnetic toss with the handcuffs, but
she held up a broken table leg and the cuffs secured around it instead of her.
“Oh, this from the woman
in the ‘bad girl’ stiletto heels?”
“Oh, you’re a fine one to
talk! What, did Doug Henning decide that he could do better, and give you your
walking papers?” I swung a punch at her, but my punch went straight through
her! I swung around wildly, trying to connect, but only whiffing through thin
air. Then, I spotted a second blurry shadow on the ground, about a foot or so
from where she appeared to be.
“Ah, shaddap, or I’ll
tell the Bride of Frankenstein that you stole her do!” She suddenly
‘re-appeared’ and blind-sided me with a kick to the ribs.
“Excuse me? ‘Bride of
Frankenstein’? Are you new at this or something? Personally, I would have gone
for a Susan Sontag crack. Y’now, maybe a little something about ‘Art for it’s
own sake’, or a nasty little reference to the commercialization and debasement
of the private sector, or something like that.”
“Does Dennis Miller know
that you’ve been dipping into his material?”
“Much better! Now, I
don’t wanna go off on a rant but- OW!” The back of my head almost caved in when
from out of left field, something hit me. When I looked up, Kiz was holding a
long metallic staff of some sort.
“Looks like my hand was
quicker than your eye.” She grinned, and pointed it at me. She looked like she
was about to blast me, but she suddenly looked over at the exhibit. “What ARE
those guards doing?”
I couldn’t help it - it
was the oldest, most obvious dodge in the world, but I couldn’t help it - I
looked.
Hunh?
For some bizarre reason,
four of the security guys had broken into the display case, and they were
scooping the pedigree’d bling-bling up into a satchel. “HEY!” Kismet yelled,
“That’s MY big score!” She pointed her staff at them and let off a barrage of
silvery-blue bolts that not only flew at the guards - who I suddenly realized I
didn’t recognize - but they flew around at least one obstruction and hit
them square.
Guided energy blasts. How
come this never came up at the technology seminar at the convention?
Kismet’s energy bolts
knocked one of the bogus guards off his pins, but of the other three, one just
shrugged it off, the bolt sort of sizzled on the skin of another one, and the
third one just sort of gulped it down. The third one came at Kismet as she
charged at them. He had a big grin on his face, and his ‘Man In Black’ look
melted into just plain black. Nasghul manifested his big whacking sword and
swung an arc-
-which Kismet neatly pole
vaulted over. As she landed behind him, she created a glowing sphere of energy
and threw it at the satchel, which disappeared inside it.
Now, normally, in a fight
between feuding supervillains, my first instinct would be to get the bystanders
to safety, and then break out the popcorn. But, Kismet was outnumbered four to
one, and if that guy was Nasghul, then the other three hadda be Symbiont
Syndicate as well. So, as Nasty turned to try and back stab Kiz, I picked up a
bistro table and chucked it at him, catching him on the back of the head. “Yo!
Nasghul!”
Kismet took advantage of
Nasghul’s distraction to leverage the roundhouse punch that one of the other
‘men in black’ aimed at her right into, and right on top of him. The other one
standing let off a familiar blast of energy. Okay, that one must be Baelrog.
The blast sent Kismet flying, and Baelrog sprouted his claws and bat-wings, and
made a flying leap at Kismet. I intercepted him in mid-leap with an energy bolt
and screwed up his aim.
But the guy that Kiz had
sent flying with her first energy blast came roaring back. He lashed out with a
long stretchy leg and kicked her squarely into the guy who she’d thrown into
Nasghul, who shifting into his Berserker mode. Luckily, Big Red didn’t decide to
pull her arms and legs off, like a fly. Instead, he rather casually tossed her
in an arc, in the direction of the penthouse ledge. WAY over the penthouse
ledge.
Okay, give the big red
louse his due - the standard ‘Devil’s Choice’ is a classic, and Kismet may be a
pain in the ass, but I can’t let her go *splat!* I might lose my
Superheroes Union membership if I did.
I caught her about a
story down. “Are you okay?”
She just looked at me
with an icy glare. “Why couldn’t you be Justiciar? If I HAVE to be rescued, I
want it to be by a really cute guy!”
I briefly thought about
dropping her. “Listen. Either you can help me wipe up the floor with those four
ratsasses, and we figure out what to do from there, or I leave you out on a
ledge and do it myself.”
“Yeah, and how can I
trust you to not cream me, in the middle of the fight?”
“Okay, you’re obviously a
professional thief, but you’re not in those guys' league. Taking them out is a
lot more important to me than brining you in.”
“Gee, I can just feel
the love.”
“Or, I can drop you right
now, and say that I was too late.”
“Okay, okay! Just get me
up there, and get my power staff to me, and I’ll hold up my end of the
bargain.”
“That’ll have to do!” I
hefted her, flew up a bit, and threw her as hard as I could. When she landed on
the ledge, I jinked around the corner and flew up on their blind side. When I
got to the top, Kismet was dancing around, avoiding combined strikes from
Baelrog and Berserker. I gave the scene a quick once-over, before anyone saw
me.
There! Kismet’s staff was
laying a couple of feet behind Kraken, as he and Nasghul were busy disengaging
the sparklies from their security moorings. I couldn’t just pick it up and
trust Nasty not to see me, so...
I zipped over to the
staff, picked it up on a roll, and used my momentum to roll into a double-foot
kick on Squiddly’s backside, which knocked him into Nasghul.
Yes, Nasghul is very
useful that way.
“Kismet!” I javeline’d
her staff at her, and she caught it just in time to trip up Berserker into
Baelrog. As Berserker sizzled, it came to me that Nasghul wasn’t the only
useful one that way.
There was a bit of rather
routine wham-bam-slam, and several concussions later, I found myself
back-to-back with Kismet. “So, any hot ideas?” I asked sotto voce, “I’m
getting my ass handed to me over here.”
“Oh, I have a few, but I
haven’t had any openings to use them.”
“What’s keeping you?”
“Well, Big Red over there
for one.”
“Can you do something to
get him off balance?”
She nodded, and I spun
her about so that she was facing Berserker, instead of Kraken and Nasghul. She
spun out of my grasp, and produced one of those cards of hers. She ducked
inside of Berserker’s grasp, and slapped it square in the middle of the big blank
space that passes for his face. The card flared, and Big B startled a little.
Maybe her card blinded him, somehow.
I jumped behind him, and
before any of the others could react, I yelled, “KICK!”
Kismet gave Berserker a
big shove with a manifested hand of silvery-blue energy. As he teetered
backwards, I tipped him on his back and lifted him up. “Gimme a hand here!”
Kismet ducked Kraken’s
punch and rushed over. Together we got Berserker off balance, despite all his
thrashing about. “This way!”
Struggling under his
weight, we managed to get Berserker to the edge, and I tipped the Big B over.
Kismet looked over the edge, aghast. “You killed him!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I
scoffed, as I zapped Baelrog to keep him from rescuing Berserker. “It’s only twenty
stories down to where this building steps back from the walk. Twenty stories
hurt Baelrog? It might knock the wind out of him, but he was a tough bastard,
even before he got that symbiot.”
“What about the stretchy
one with the claws?”
“Kraken? Well, he’s
tough, but getting him over the edge would be a bear, especially since we’ve
already played that card.”
“Hey! _I_ do the card
jokes around here!”
“Okay, but what do we do
about Baelrog and Nasghul?”
Kismet paused and gave me
an amused look. “Baelrog? Nasghul?”
“Don’t,” I warned her. “We’ve already done the Tolkien joke.”
Then Kismet spotted
Kraken stuffing more stuff into a satchel. He was forming one of those scythes
with his hand, to dislodge that big doorknob gewgaw. “HEY! That’s MY prize!
Hands - or claws - or whatever - OFF!”
She charged at him,
leaving me to guard her flank, which was a chore and a half, let me tell YOU!
She tore into Kraken with her staff, which was ablaze with silver fire. In
their tussle, the ‘doorknob’ got knocked out of its bracket and was knocked
into the middle of the room.
It was like the puck had
been dropped, in a hockey game. Everybody but me all dived for it at once. Hey,
if it’s THAT important-
I magno-snagged it out
from just before their hands. Baelrog snarled, probably pissed that he spaced
on that move first, and tried to snag it out of my hand with his own power. We
did a tug of war with it for a bit, with the ‘doorknob’ dangling in mid-air between
us. Then the ‘doorknob’ started to hum and glow, and it suddenly flared with
energy. A huge backlash fed along both our power trails, and I was knocked back
for a nasty loop. When I swept the stars out of my eyes, Baelrog was on the
other side of the room twitching. As I got up, Kismet threw yet another of her
cards on Baelrog. Then she pulled one of the metallic snakes from her gloves
and threw it around him. It stretched and coiled around him. Then, she threw
another one, reinforcing the binding.
The big flash had taken
Kraken and Nasghul as much by surprise as it had me. Kraken was gingerly
extending one of his long talons in its direction, when I snagged it out of his
grasp. Well, Kiz giving him a big zap with her staff didn’t hurt any, either.
Nasghul looked back and
forth between us. “Well, well, finally we get to the place that I love - nobody
to get between me and a choice of nice, juicy meals. So, ladies, which of you
wants to go first? Go right ahead! Zap me all you want!”
“Okay, if you insist!”
Kismet pointed her staff at him and instead of a bolt of energy, a white spray
emerged. It covered him, and it started to crust over, and developed an icy
dusting. He started, and tried to break out, but Kismet threw another of her
snakes on him, trussing him up.
I pointed at Kraken, who
was still on the floor, groggy. “You got another of those snakes for him?”
“If it comes to that,
yeah.”
I magno-snagged the
‘doorknob’. I could feel the energy running through the thing, not amplified,
but in some way becoming cleaner, clearer, somehow. “Okay, I’ll bite - what IS
this? It sure as hell didn’t come from Cartiers.”
“What it is.” I suddenly
felt something on my brow. It was one of those cards. Suddenly, my energy was
running amok - I couldn’t move a muscle, I couldn’t use my powers, all that I
could do is watch. Kismet walked up to me and took the ‘doorknob’ from my
fingers. “What it is, is mine.”
She calmly screwed the
doorknob into a socket at the end of her staff and gave Kraken a zap with it,
sending him flying. Then she heard a thudding sound against the side of the
building. “Oh well, that must be your friend Berserker, climbing up. I guess
I’ll leave him to you.” She saluted me with her staff, and parted with a
cheery, “Nice doing business with you, Sparky!”
She straddled her staff,
in a way that reminded me too closely of Ms. Hex and flew off.
It took everything that I
had, but I was able to burn the card off my forehead. But by that time, Kismet
was well out of sight, and even Berserker knew that the party was over. And I
had to get Kraken, Baelrog and Nasghul into custody.
For as long as that
lasted with this crew.
I looked out into the
night and promised Kismet, “This isn’t over.”
Continuted in Part 28...
since 10/10/05