The Tower (25 page)

Just us two in the room; where was Henchman Number One? “Whatever happened to your promise not to come up here?” I asked. My head was still throbbing, but I could think a bit better now. Damn it, I felt like I'd been hit with a lead pipe. Sure enough, over there in the corner was a lead pipe.
Great, another cliché…

“…promise did I make?” he was asking. “I just said I couldn't leave my hideout but I changed my mind. Freedom of choice and all, surely you wouldn't deny me
that
.”

Wildcard wasn't smiling now, was he actually being serious? Then I saw that he was holding a pistol in his left hand; it was pointed straight at my heart, and I knew that he'd use it without a second's hesitation or remorse. Yes, he was serious.

He arose, gestured for me to get up. “It's time, Billy, for the exhibition.” The smile on his tomato face returned as I rose unsteadily to my feet. My head still hurt like hell and I needed a shot of the serum. Day by day I'd gotten weaker, time was running out. I looked at Wildcard.

“Exhibition?”

“Your friends, William, you don't want to keep them waiting.” He motioned with the gun. “You go first.”

Along the corridor, into the lift, and down to the Containment Cells we went. As we were walking, I asked, “How'd you do it?”

“Simple, really,” he replied breezily. “As I said, I still have my eyes and spies around. So, one day, when one of your Darts made a pit stop in Met City, I hitched a ride back. Your security on this satellite is really poor, by the way. I got off the Dart and hid in one of the storage rooms. It's so big that no one would bother looking for little old me. Pilfered a few things here and there, read all the schedules, shift changes and whatnot, then set my plan in motion, and voila! Here we are. Ooops!” he said brightly. “You got me doing a monologue; have to watch that.”

We'd arrived at the Containment Cell area. The doors opened and…oh…my…Lord. The cells, once empty, had been turned into sun rooms, high-wattage lamps emitting their rays at the Ultras, who were crowded eight to a cell. They lay there, half-human and half-alien, a mixture of limbs and branches, moving weakly from time to time, if they could move at all. Those who didn't move screamed in agony. While trees usually thrived in sunlight, they couldn't withstand very high temperatures and the intense, desert-like sun's rays. Wildcard had rigged these lamps up to simulate just those conditions. Wicked genius that he was, he knew they'd wither and die from the onslaught of heat and light. It was true—he loved making people suffer more than anything.

Avenger was in a cell all by himself, tied spread-eagled to a slab, his shape fluctuating as he slowly roasted. His eyes were on Wildcard, he didn't utter a sound.

That took guts. I would've been screaming along with the rest of them, but not him. Avenger then looked at me and gave me a brief wink, it made me remember that Deanna had moved the tree-children to the Arbor Room. Good, at least they were safe…

“…just can't take your eyes off 'em, can you?” my captor was saying, barely keeping the glee out of his voice. “Gotta hand it to you, I
never
figured out the whole picture; you really are something, Mr. Lamp-kin.” The way he said my name—almost like a curse. The same way he pronounced it back on Earth. “Who would have thought that you'd be smarter than the world's greatest crime fighter? Avenger, the real one, would be
so
proud of you.” That last part was said mockingly.

I turned to him, rage building as well as frustration. He had the gun and I couldn't do a damn thing. And, yes, the weapon was still trained on my heart. “Why?”

He gave me a smug look. “For the fun of it, of course,” he answered. “I mean, they're not the real Association, but they'll do in a pinch.” Going over to the main console, carefully keeping me in his sights, he killed the lights. The screaming stopped, replaced by soft moans. “I let them recover a bit, spray 'em with a bit of water,” he indicated a hose in the corner, “then flip 'em on the griddle again. Just like frying an egg. Oh, yes, Lamp-kin, I know everything about you,” he said malevolently, his grin deepening.

He had the gun…stall for time, figure out a plan. “Where's everyone else?”

“Locked up in a storage room on Deck #8,” he said blithely, picking his nose, examining the contents and then flicking the junk away. “It's amazing how many people you can cram in a room, just like sardines. They're safe…for now. I may even keep the life support systems going. Maybe,” he added.

“Who else is here with you?”

“Just me,” he answered, gesturing to a far corner. There, his henchmen, the man with the switchblade, lay in a pool of blood. “It's
so
hard to keep good help these days.”
Well, that was one way to keep secrets safe…
.

“Now,” he continued, all the while keeping his voice level and reasonable. “I know what you're thinking. Why go to all this trouble and kill all these tree people? Well, that's only the bonus in this whole endeavor. You see I know all about you, Billy, that you're an alien too, and that your universe doesn't have any heroes or super-villains. Once I get the portal ready, I'll be paying your world, and some others, a little visit. Since your Earth doesn't have an Avenger, I'll give them a reason to invent one.” His eyes were glowing as he continued his little speech.

“Do you realize what I can do with all this technology? I can finally rule any place I desire, have all the good times I want, and all of it is just a simple matter of flicking a switch and going to universe #1, or #2, or #35; just as easy as, well, stepping through a doorway. That is how you came here, isn't it?”

I nodded. That simple movement sent a wave of pain through me. He had it all figured out. Wildcard then gave me a penetrating look.

“And, just to let you in on more of my wonderful plan—I think I'll call it the ‘WUT Tour.'”

“What?”

“Not ‘What,' he replied testily. “The ‘Wildcard Universe Tour'—W-U-T,” he spelled it out, “and I've saved the best part for last. You've been to Pleasure World?”

“Yes.”

“Seen the tombs?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I'm not that much of a scientist per se, but these tree-people are. They've sort of stopped your leukemia, although you are looking rather ill now. How are you feeling, by the way?” he asked in an oily I-don't-really-care-if-you-live-or-die voice.

Time for another swear word. “Like what you are,” I said flatly. “Shit.” That got a blank look from him and he slowly walked over to face me, gun at the ready.

“Bill, Bill,” he said in a disappointed tone, “you have just
got
to change that attitude of yours, it'll get you into more trouble than you could ever imagine.” And then he whipped me across the face with the pistol, staggering me. Blood spurted out but I wanted to stay on my feet. Somehow, I did.

“You're nothing but a sadistic little punk with a gun,” I gasped out. “Try it with your hands, you little pus…” I barely got the words out when the pistol came down again, gouging open the top part of my scalp and causing more blood to flow. This time the pain almost caused me to black out and I fell to my knees…managed to get up…didn't want to give the scumbag the satisfaction of seeing me hurt. Wildcard just looked at me, a pleased smile on his face.

He continued. “That's better, a more positive outlook, just the way I like it.” He stepped back a little, somewhat wary of me. If he hadn't been holding the pistol I'd have wiped that grin off his face permanently. “At any rate, as I was saying, they've got ion propulsion, and more than that, they're
very
knowledgeable about reverse engineering. With their technology, my brains, and a little luck, this universe will soon have a few more interesting people in it.”

I looked at him, the most awful of thoughts dawning on me. Wildcard leaned in a bit, the grin ever wider. “Oh, yes, Bill, I'm going to do
exactly
what you're thinking; I'm going to raise the dead!”

No, it wasn't possible. I put my hand to my head, partially to stop the blood from dripping into my eyes and partially to keep the thought of what he was going to do out of my head. “You…can't….”

Wildcard smirked a little. “Who says so?!” he snorted. He moved a bit closer to the console and flicked a switch; the screaming started up again. “And here's the kicker—once I get my personal choices all set up and under my control, not only will I take over this Earth, I'll also go to your planet.

“And then the
real
fun begins!”

No…I'd led him here and it was my fault, my fault…

“…already started with the Ultras, just as a trial experiment,” he was saying, “Black Demon, DragonFlitta, Prof. Ling, and all the rest of the noble crew. The regeneration pods have already been set up on Pleasure World. That little building you saw has such wonderful technology! In a few days we'll see what happens. If they make it back alive and sane, then a little brainwashing and I'll make it happen…all…over…again.” This time, there was no glee in his voice, just pure evil, as he enunciated those last three words.

“Oh, and I
did
want you to see this,” he said, gesturing with the pistol to the last cell. Oriana! She'd been tied down the same as Avenger but the lights hadn't been turned on to their full power. Her face and limbs showed burns but they weren't deep ones, not yet. She also wasn't screaming but was straining to free herself. Like Avenger, she had courage and that gave me hope, too.

I turned on the mound of trash, my anger rising. His pistol trained itself on me. “Uh-uh,” he said. “I really don't want to kill you; in fact, I'm going to let you go.”

“What?”

“You really
are
dense, aren't you, Lamp-kin?” he said mockingly.
What the hell was up with mangling my last name
?
Just to tick me off
? “Let you go,” he repeated. “You owe these water-feeders nothing; they lied to you and lied to everyone else. Yes, they told me about how they wanted to survive. They want to preserve their species? That's fine. They'll make excellent house-plants somewhere else, not here.” He flicked off the heat-switch and looked at me…and noticed the way I was looking at Oriana.

“I can't believe you've spent all this time here and you actually feel something for them…and her?” he asked incredulously. He indicated Ori with the pistol. “They're not human.”

Neither are you
.

Wildcard then came over and raised the pistol. “Feel like saying goodbye to them, William?” he asked. “Avenger's your buddy—and this little fern is your love, isn't she? I saw the way you were eye-balling her. Parting is such sweet sorrow, isn't it?” He motioned me over to where Avenger was. The erstwhile superhero grabbed my pant leg desperately and Wildcard just smacked his hand away.

“No touchee-touchee,” he said savagely, then raised the pistol in an arc and THWOK!

Once again, I saw stars, and then the blackness took over.

* * *

I came to, sat up slowly. Where the hell was I? My head felt like it'd been caved in, Wildcard was stronger than he looked and hadn't exactly taken it easy on me. He could have killed me, yet he chose not to. Why had he let me go?

Looking around, I saw that I'd been deposited in an alleyway somewhere and it looked like Portland. Yeah, it was, but was it my adopted Portland or another dimension? Wildcard must have flown me back and dumped me off.

Staggering out of the alley, I found a middle-aged man looking at a paper. Grabbing his arm, I asked him what day it was and then the time.

“Tuesday,” he said, startled at my appearance. “About four o'clock.”

I'd only been gone an hour or so, there was hope after all…

“…you okay?” he was asking. “There's blood all over your face…”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off. “Listen, you know about the Association, right?” He nodded. “Tell me, what happened to them about two years ago?”

His face went blank—okay, still in this dimension. Thanking him, I walked across to a small park to think about what to do. My head was still throbbing and it was hard to think clearly. For the briefest of moments, I questioned why I wanted to go back. A psycho had pistol-whipped and beaten the crap out of me and my body felt like it'd been repeatedly run over by a car.

Furthermore, I'd been given my freedom for some reason known only to the madman up there and if I went back now, Wildcard would most certainly kill me and burn the rest of the Ultras to cinders, if he hadn't already done so. I wasn't in any hurry to lose what was left of my life.

But realistically speaking, since I wasn't getting any better and probably wouldn't survive a whole lot longer without treatment, where else could I go? And Wildcard, now that he had possession of the portal, would definitely carry out his “WUT Tour” and with the genius of the Ultra science behind him and his own sadistic personality, no world was safe. He could go anywhere, do anything, kill anyone and he'd get away with it.

No, that couldn't be allowed. There was no one else who knew about him, and since the police were oblivious to the reality of what was going on up in the sky and no one else could do anything about it, it fell to me to carry out yet another rescue mission, this one being the biggest of them all.

Still, there were doubts. It would've been easy to walk away from it all. I could have said “to hell with it” and just let the nutcase up there do what he wanted. But no, I needed them as much as they needed me. Recalling the conversation with Avenger on Pleasure World, something right then and there told me to do the right thing. Oriana didn't know about what the rest of her people had been doing and she loved me, truly loved me…I couldn't abandon her.