Confessions of a D-List Supervillain (15 page)

“Oh, so you doubt my power, eh mammal? Was not reverting your metal to the base stone it came from enough to make you realize what you face? I see a further demonstration is in order. He waves his claw and Anemone enters my limited field of vision encased in some kind of translucent egg.

“Watch apeling. Watch the birth of my new race!”

Sanford begins quivering. The “egg” hatches and he falls out. Parts of him are bursting out of his costume. The gruesome event takes maybe two minutes, or a lifetime to play out while the lizard people near me sway and chant. The only thing good about it is that voice in my head is gone. Rex has his head pointed to the sky and is hissing to the beat of his faithful. Eventually one of those poison spitting dinosaurs from that one movie stands up where my teammate was. It approaches Rexxie and bends its head allowing the sorcerer to grasp it with a three clawed hand.

With my suit’s evacuation systems also turned to stone, I feel urine running down my right leg and collecting at the knee.

“Now for the strong female. She will make a good mate for my other great servant and will breed a new generation of mammal killers. Your turn will come soon.”

As the presence leaves my mind, I search for anything that might help. In the faraway darkness, I see the shape of Roller. I give it the command to move toward me. It does! My neural net is still up. The powercell at the base of my neck is still intact. That means I can still control Floater as well. I just can’t see it.

I don’t have much time. Sheila is already beginning her transformation and I could be next. I’ll attack from both sides. Floater goes first with missiles and then acting as a distraction. Roller will come in from the back. Will the pulse cannon be able to breach that shield? Screw it! I’ll detonate Roller at the bleachers behind home plate. Some of the shrapnel will have to get through.

I issue my orders and do something I never do … pray.

Sheila’s transformation is interrupted at the midpoint by twin darts of light. The serpent sorcerer barely gets up his shield in time and the impact causes him to stumble on his thick legs. There’s a quick burst of light as Floater explodes and I grimace from the feedback.

The villain’s presence slams down on my mind, ripping at the fabric of my existence and I scream right through Roller’s explosion. The blast hurls people backward and shatters that crystal portal. My ears won’t stop ringing and all through it, I pray that this thing dies. I make bargains with gods I’ve never heard of. I even promise not to watch soft core porn ever again.

In the middle of all this, I’m knocked over. I can still see straight ahead, but the angle has changed. The dust clears and I see Tyrannosorcerer Rex still standing behind his shield.
No! No! No!

Slowly, he turns in my direction and my life is flashing before my eyes. I’m going to die. This is it.

The mage rears back and I prepare for the burst of energy that will finish me, but nothing comes. Rex wobbles and claws at his chest for a few seconds. Then, he drops to the ground and nothing. I can’t see any movement.

• • •

Time passes. There are intermittent screams of pain and moaning, but no other sounds. Mosquitoes land on my face and feast. I call out, but there is no answer.

Finally, when I don’t think I can handle it anymore, Sheila appears. She staggers to over to Rex first, vomits and approaches. Sheila hefts me with ease. Putting me down like some kind of stupid lawn gnome, we look at each other. If she’s noticed that she’s pretty much naked, she doesn’t show it.

“Cal, are you okay?” she whispers.

“My suit’s been turned to stone! You?”

“No need to scream. I turned back. Sanford did as well. What happened?”

“I got Roller as close as I could and then activated the self-destruct. Is the bad guy dead?”

“Yeah, it’s weird though, there’re some chunks of him ripped out, like they were never there. Listen, there are a lot of people injured and I think Kim is dead. I’m going to run back to my sled and get help. Do you need me to bust you out of there?”

“No! No! Give it some time, maybe it’ll turn back like you did,” I probably sound a bit whiny there, but this is my suit we’re talking about! Desperation is in order.

Left alone with only the cries of the injured to keep me company, I postulate on what happened. The crystal portal was outside of his shield. If the pieces of it were still active, they might have transported chunks of the reptile away, leaving him resembling an unfinished jigsaw puzzle. The scenario reminds me of that Croce song from the seventies.

Technically, we won, but I won’t feel happy until my suit is back to normal. I already sacrificed my two robots.

• • •

Forty-five minutes later and happiness hasn’t shown up yet.  I’m still an effin’ lawn ornament. The higher powers that granted my requests felt the need to exact a price.

“Give it up, Cal. It’s not happening.”  Sheila says.

“Just five more minutes. Please,” I sound like a kid being told to get off their game console and go to sleep.

“Andy isn’t changing back. Neither of the José suits are turning back, and I’m sorry to say this, but your suit isn’t going to either.”

I sigh in defeat. “Go ahead.”

She takes her time, so as not to hurt me. “Are you crying?”

“It’s dust in my eyes. Shut up!”

When the front chest piece comes off, it’s like my heart breaking.

• • •

Andydroid stands motionless in the corner of the workshop. His face locked in a curious, but horrified expression, ironic in the fact that he never really showed that emotion. Kimodo did die and we pretend to mourn a teammate that turned out to be a Mata Hari in our midst. No one else on the team died, but the Bugler’s legs were broken and he’s out of the game for a time. We had a couple of mystic types in to look at Andy and the other goodies we recovered from Rex’s hidden lair. Only one had a solution for my best buddy and it was to turn the body into a golem that would answer orders. Most of them were interested in thumbing through the stuff we brought back and a couple of them made some offers, but I declined based on the idea that maybe I could find something in there that could help Andy. Also, I think some of them were lowballing me.

The strangest thing coming out of this is that when the T-Rex reverted back into a human, it was none other than Hillbilly Bobby. Who’d have thought? Guess that explains why he disappeared. It added a whole new layer of “ewwww” to the mating T-Rex plan because Bobby and Sheila are second cousins. But even that odd fact doesn’t lift me out of the mood that I’m wallowing in and I wondered if Bobby was going to try and get his base back from me.

My misery is compounded by discovering that even with a loan from Wendy, I’m having problems getting parts for a new set of armor. I’ve managed to locate enough synth-muscle to wire a leg. That’s about it. Someone is paying top dollar for all the things I need and making it impossible to locate synth-muscle and the command and control circuitry. I can only imagine who it is. Yeah right. Patterson and his company smell blood and in a not so shocking turn of events, a new armored villain named the RoboDestroyer surfaced in Florida and destroyed every single Type A I had there. Nothing else! Just my bots and source of income.

Petty much!

With no other alternative, I walk out of the workshop and into the monitor room and let them marvel at my inventiveness.

“What’s with the get up?” José says, trying and failing not to laugh.

“ManaCALes two point oh,” I say. “Twin wrist mounted force blasters, lightweight jet pack, Kevlar suit, helmet, and force field vest. It’s the best I can come up with.”

I might as well be naked against even a dolt like Seawall, but it’s something. Hell, I’m back where I started when the Bugler was kicking my ass.

Sheila inspects me, shrugs, welcomes me back to active duty, and gives me my patrol assignment.

Two hours into it, I’m sitting on an ambulance gurney with a paramedic looking at my arm. The three bank robbers’ semi-automatic weapons fire brought down my limited shielding in less than a minute and I took a round in the left arm. Pissed off, I blew a hole the size of my wrist through one of them and the other two dropped their weapons like they were on fire.

“You’re a new guy right?”  The EMT asks me.

I answer her dumbly, “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Listen, maybe this is a wakeup call. Maybe you aren’t supposed to be doing this. I’m not trying to be cruel or anything, but you ought to think about a different line of work.”

Searching my mind, I can’t come up with a decent argument. To sum things up, at the end of the Bug invasion, I had a cool suit, the girl, and a bright future. Now, I have a judgmental paramedic, a stinging pain in my arm, a costume that I would have laughed at, and no girl at all.

Yeah, my future is so very bright right now.

Chapter Ten

Vindication Never Tasted So Bad

“West Coast reporting everything is normal,” Patterson knows when my shifts are and calls in his team’s status personally. He does this on purpose just to screw with me. Without Andy, we’ve all had to pick up the slack on monitor duty.

“GulfCoast reporting everything normal,” I answer.

“Tell Wendy, I said welcome back.”

“I will Ultraweapon. Are we done?”  I reach to sever the connection.

“For tonight we are, Stringel. Sleep tight.”

• • •

We all turn up, even Bugler in a wheel chair, to greet Wendy in the monitor room. I accept a hug and a peck on the cheek from the tiny tornado maker.

“It will get better Cal,” she whispers in my ear. “I promise.”

It’s a tiny beam of sunshine over my otherwise drab reality. I cling to it like a lifeline.

Sheila still lets me patrol, but usually pairs me up with Chain Charmer. It’s kept me from further injuries, but her lack of faith in my new abilities has plunged to an all time low.

After Wendy’s first meeting back, I am approached by the newly reduced in rank She-Dozer. “My agent is on the phone. Someone wants to meet with you.”

“Does Patterson really think I’d fall for that again?”

“No it’s legit. We established a code phrase that changes so I know it’s really him. The client says his name is Paul West. He says you know him from the old days. Do you?”

It takes a second and then I put a name with the face. Paul was the buyer that replaced Vicky after she died.  I feel strangely uncomfortable. “Yeah, I know him.”

“Okay, I’ll have my agent text you his contact information and you can decide if you want to meet up with him. Let us know where and when and we can tag along if necessary.”

“I’ll do that.”  I lie. I can’t picture myself saying, “Hey guys, I’m about to go meet with The Evil Overlord’s chief weapons buyer. Anybody wanna come?”

Now it just remains to be seen what Paul wants with me.

• • •

“Thank you for taking this meeting, Mister Stringel. It’s been a long time, but you look well.”  We meet at a nondescript café in the French Quarter. I want a crowd around that I can lose myself in since I’m “incognito.”  I’ve got my force blasters under the baggy shirt I’m wearing and the vest as well. It ain’t much, but I’m a pretty fast runner.

“I’ve been better. How are things with you?”

“There’s been a … how to say this, a downturn for my employer, but things are looking brighter every day.”

“I didn’t think for a second that he was dead.”

“Very astute as always, Mister Stringel.” He tips his cup of coffee to me and then sips.

“So what’s this all about?”

“A certain person seems to enjoy toying with your life. Isn’t that true? You find that even with money, you cannot acquire the things needed to construct a new suit.”

“Yes.”

“And that same person has a long history of making things difficult for my superior. Does he not?”

“Very true.”

“Then we have established some common ground. My superior would like to keep that person occupied pursuing petty vendettas while he is seeing to his holdings, consolidating matters, and awaiting the proper time to rejoin society.”

I wonder what Overlord is up to, but it’s not like I’m in any position to stop him. “What does this have to do with me?”

He pushes a pad of paper. “I have been instructed to be your benefactor. Write the items you require on this sheet and I will see to it that you receive them as soon as possible.”

Too many times I’ve been burnt by things that sound too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”

“Your mere existence infuriates the man who has caused my superior so much grief. Is that not enough for you? I guess not. In that case, my superior has asked that you grant him a future consideration should he require your services.”

“I don’t think that would go over terribly well given my current employment situation,” I reply, since we are talking in circles at the moment. “What about the robots that were destroyed?”

“Those old relics were expendable. My superior was rather impressed at your industrious use for them. He can recognize talented individuals. Pity they have been removed. Regarding the service request, perhaps if it were limited to the downfall of our mutual adversary it would be more palatable?”

My flexible morals are out on display executing a floorshow an Olympic gymnast would envy. Do I trust the Overlord? Hell no! He’s not a conventional supervillain. He has the power to detect when people lie to him and not much more, but he uses it with a savage ruthlessness that allows him to gain influence over people and plant spies or agents wherever he wants. He deals in favors and doesn’t hesitate to call them in when he needs something.

Would accepting make me any different from someone like Athena, who’s willing to give someone like me the shaft on a moment’s notice? No. Then again, I never have pretended to be anything other than myself. A new suit will help extend my life expectancy, increase my value to the Guardians, and piss off Ultraweapon … though I’m not sure which order those last two should be in.

I take the pen and begin writing with a speed that might even amaze Hermes. “Deal!” 

• • •

“Where did you get the parts?”  Wendy asks sneaking up and scaring the crap out of me. Synth-muscle and control circuits are spread all over the place. It’s halted my quest to find a solution for Andy. I’ve discovered that I am very “limited” in my magical potential, but there are various augments that could make me marginally stronger. My research and efforts to this point had allowed me to push a screw a few feet across a table and make it come back. Next week, I’ll move on to card tricks!

“I found another cache that used to belong to the Evil Overlord. Now, they’re mine.”  I can still lie to her, but it isn’t as easy as it used to be. Technically, this is more of a half-truth. All this hanging around with heroes has made me soft.

“Well, I’m glad you’re on your way to making a new suit of armor. It might even make what I’m about to say easier.”

Several things cross my mind in that instant. “At least give me my last two weeks pay. It’s been fun being a Guardian and I’ll miss you most of all.”

She laughs at my humor. “Stop. It’s not that.”

“Well as long as you’re not carrying my kid, whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

There’s a very, shall we say, pregnant pause. If Mather wasn’t already dead, I’d dig him back up and finish him for good.

“I’m sorry, Cal. Forget I mentioned it.”

Fix this Cal! Fix it quick!
I stop her before she gets out the door. “C’mon Wendy. I was joking. I didn’t know that was your news. Do your parents know?”

“Mom does. She’s already planning my leave of absence. When Dad finds out, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

“Here I thought I was finally going to get that pardon. Guess not.”

Wendy brushes that aside. “No, it won’t be you. He’s not very happy at how things are being run these days in our world. There’re too many loose cannons out there. There’s talk of increased regulation on the community.”

I consider asking her if she’s going to keep it, but I don’t really feel like getting slapped this evening and assume she does.

“Would you like me down on one knee?”  I could do much worse than a girl who is filthy rich, pretty, and is one of the A List superheroes. Not too bad for a scrub from the bush leagues like me.

“No! God! No!”  The speed of her response is disheartening.

“Gee thanks!”

She punches me in the shoulder. “That’s not it. We’re not in love. Most days we’re barely in like. You get under my skin, Cal, damn near every day! I have to leave the room sometimes because of it. That wouldn’t work in a marriage. I want to wake up next to a man I love. Besides, I still think that Aphrodite will come to her senses.”

“Most would say that she already has. So I’m thinking Rufus if it’s a boy and Geraldine if it’s a girl. What do you think?”

“I think you should stick to making powered battle suits and leave the other decisions to people who have a clue about the magic of life.”

“Yeah, I suppose you can’t mix magic and science. It’s never pretty is it?”

She manages a smile. It looks like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. “Thanks for not throwing some kind of tantrum or being an asshole, Cal. I’m not sure how things will work when the baby is born, but if you want involvement, you’ll have it. If you don’t, I won’t force you. I don’t need an answer for a long time either, so think it over and get back to me when you’re sure.”

She leaves me with feelings of inadequacy. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material! What kind of father could I possibly make? It’s not like I’ve got a helluva role model to draw on. Sorry Dad. I’m just calling it the way I see it.

Conflicting themes in my life, just like trying to mix science and magic. That’s never a good idea. Then again, who knows?

• • •

“I know you worry about your new armor, but don’t you think you should, I don’t know get out of it every so often? It probably smells awful in there.”  Sheila comments. As I turn away, she makes the “cuckoo” motion with her index finger and points at me. Anemone laughs.

“I’m fine. Trust me on that. Never been better.”  Things are actually pretty good right now. I’m back to being the second most powerful person on this team and the couple of battles we’d been in since then helped me justify my decision to accept some, for lack of better words, outside assistance in making this new suit.

“If you say so,” she replies. Further comments are interrupted by the monitor screen activating and switching to the emergency circuit. Bolt Action’s frame fills it.

“Stringel, Dozier! Where’s La Guardia?”

“In her room.”

“Get her, now!”  He’s barking like he’s still in the Corps.

“Something going down?” She-Dozer asks.

“Yeah. It must be your birthday come early, Stringel.”

“What?”

“Patterson’s going down. Jade Lyoness just escaped from an attack by Ultraweapon. She found something really big and sent it to me.”

“How big?”

“Life imprisonment kind of big. He’s got a new robot prototype that runs off of a nuclear core. I’m not even certain how many treaties that violates, but I’ve already contacted the Olympians and the Oval Office and everyone is onboard. Are you interested?”

I whistle. Type D Warbots are the largest bots that can run off of current powercell technology and only for a limited duration. For some reason, putting a reactor in a robot and letting it wander around is universally frowned on by diplomats.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  And here I thought this was going to be a slow day.

“Good. Get airborne and we’ll coordinate things in the sky. I doubt he’s going to just surrender and we expect heavy resistance.”

• • •

Patterson is waiting for us. Promethia’s main headquarters is an armored fortress. Some of his security force wants no part of this battle and flees, but others don’t care or are programmed to do their master’s bidding. As one of the “heavy hitters” my job is to clear out the bigger robots. I also have a “special mission” from Bolt Action - lure Patterson out and engage him.

I’m just the man for the job. Strafing the Type D Warbots on the perimeter, I vent my figurative spleen. “Can’t you feel it, Ultrafailure? Your whole little empire is crumbling. You brought this on yourself, you know?”

Nothing yet. I guess I’ll keep poking him in the eye with a stick until I get a reaction.

“Are you going to go out like a man with your self-destruct, or do I get to see you brought into court like the craven mongrel you are? Word of advice Lazarus - don’t bother saying you’re sorry to the judge. It never works.”

“I will make sure you die, Stringel!”

“You’re not man enough,” I launch a steady stream of grenades into a Warbot until the shields drop and the explosions blow it to the ground. “Is it me or are your playthings getting easier to destroy? Where’s your newest creation, Laz? Is it just as flawed as the rest of your stuff?”

“Just keep running your mouth, you little shit! You’ll get yours.”

Maybe I’m having too much fun, but I can’t stop myself. “Listen, we all know you ran out of good ideas after synth-muscle. Never could come close after that, could you? Your engineers are the ones that did the real work. You just like to dress up and play superhero.”

There he is. “About time you came out to play, Ultraflaw. Let’s dance!”

My shielding is upgraded. My weaponry is better than ever and I have dozens of superheroes on my side. For once, I have the upper hand. On my back, I slide the powercell bazooka into position and knife through the sky right at him.

From the mini-gun, plasma darts cross the distance and spatter on his shielding. His force blasters knock me off course as our dance goes freestyle. We circle and I almost bracket him, micro seconds from firing my big stick, but Bolt Action comes from nowhere and smashes into Patterson knocking my target out of the weapon’s firing arc.

I keep after him, but am limited to plasma, grenades, and force blasters. The effing heroes keep getting in the way. Apollo this time, spewing volcanic magma from his chariot. Zeus seconds later, blazing with electrical power. My life has been leading up to this, but even my finest moment is being thwarted by these idiots.

“Get out of my damn way!”  I shout over the open channel. “Patterson is mine!”

They won’t listen. They keep interfering. I can’t get a lock. His shields are down to the point that this weapon has a better than fifty percent chance of killing him. I like those odds.

“Cal! I need your help,” Wendy’s voice reaches out to me. I ignore her.

“Stringel!” she won’t be deterred. “Get your sorry ass over here now! We’ve got a major problem.”

“I’m busy. Try again later.”

“If you’re not right next to me in thirty seconds I will beat the living shit out of you!”

Okay, she’s pissed about something. I’d better find out what. Damn it to hell!

Breaking off, I look for her. Whatever she wants, it better be important! Oh, so that’s Patterson’s new toy. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m impressed by what the engineers here dreamed up.