Nuklear Age (20 page)

“Oh geez.”

“I do remember flying through a post office though,” he said with a thoughtful chin stroke. “Maybe they could figure it out.”

“Of course.”

“Ahem,” Rachel said. “We should get going, you know.”

Nuklear Man gave her a thumbs up. “That’s my little trooper!”

“Is it?” she asked.

He considered it for a moment. “Yes.” Nuklear Man flew to the car and tossed it back on to the road. Then he turned it right-side-up. The trio piled in and, despite the Nukemobile’s newfound junkyard chic, their beachward journey continued anew.

__________

Issue 18 – Beach Birthday Blowout, Yeah!

The beach was crowned with a cloudless sky. The morning sun was a fierce sphere of heat that beat down on the few Larsen Beach patrons. A light breeze coursed through the salty air to help soothe the savage heat. Coconut scents and the sounds of music playing just far enough to make it unintelligible wafted through the scene.

Nuklear Man, followed by Rachel and Atomik Lad, strut over the dunes that kept the highway and parking lot out of view from the beach. The illusion of paradise lived on.

“Hey, why don't we sit over there?” Atomik Lad suggested from under several hundred pounds of recreational beach equipment. “How'd he fit all this in that small trunk?” he huffed.

“There's an awful lot of people over there,” Nuklear Man said suspiciously. “I'd hate to have to show them all up with my godlike physique.” He whispered to Rachel, “‘Cause then I'd make them all feel so inferior we'd have to talk ‘em out of suicide and I can't stand that whiney crap. Gets in the way of action.”

“Ah.”

“That's Nuke. Our little Mr. Sensitive,” Atomik Lad grunted. “Maybe you could keep the Stud-o-matic down to about eight until you merely alienate them and then you could turn it up to a full ten.”

“But it’s so hard to keep all this hunka-hunka burnin’ plazma under control.”

Atomik Lad, under the oppressive pressure of beach tourist crap and gravity, couldn’t afford the luxury of speech.

“You just suggested we should sit down with those people,” Rachel, being the fast learner that she was, answered.

“I did...?” Nuklear Man said in an attempt to remain noncommittal.

“Let's go,” she said, leading the way.

Atomik Lad's footsteps sunk deep into the sand. “I think I’ve got sand in my spandex,” he said, trying to kick some from his boots.

“Need me to get it?” Rachel asked.

Atomik Lad's burden shook, “Yowza.”

Nuklear Man watched his sidekick. “Having trouble with the Danger: Beach Equipment, Sparky?”

“I could use a little help, actually,” he said. His face was red with the strain that rang in his voice.

The weight of the world was taken from Atomik Lad’s shoulders. He stared at his mentor in awe. “I didn’t think you’d take the whole thing. No offense, but knowing you, you would’ve hopped on top and claimed it was for my training or something.”

“Check this out,” Nuklear Man said with a gleam in his eye, the kind the mad claim to be genius. He tossed the beach supplies toward their destination, just in front of the already present beach-goers. “It'll all land
just
right. Trust me. I saw it in a cartoon once.”

It all landed wrong. Most of the items had been broken beyond repair.

“Nice one, Nuke.”

“Thanks,” he said proudly since he was unable to perceive personal failure.

They approached the mound of junk.

Several forms dashed from behind the refuse and yelled “SURPRISE!!!” in exuberant unison.

Nuklear Man jumped back, powered up, and fired. “PLAZMAAA BEAM!” The fusion-ish plazma carved a glass coated ditch through the sand. An aura of Plazma radiated around the Hero. His action pose remained in high gear, keeping up with the melodramatic dance his cape was enjoying with the wind.

“Remind me to never sneak up behind him,” Rachel whispered into Atomik Lad's ear.

“Um,” he said, too easily pleased.

The sun glinted off a silver statue at the end of Nuklear Man's glassy canal. A few familiar faces poked out form behind it. “Nuke,” the statue said. “You always know how to start a party!”

“Mighty Metallic Magno Man!” Nuklear Man exclaimed. “Did I nail those surprise people?”

The Tungsten Titan gave Nuklear Man a Magno-Noogie. “You crazy kid, you.”

“Aww, cut it out!” Nuklear Man waved his arms in a fruitless defense.

“Happy birthday, Nukie!” a chorus of voices rang from beyond the living shield of Mighty Metallic Magno Man.

“Dr. Genius! Librarian, Mail Man, Meter Girl, Delivery Boy! What're you all doing here, you should be at your respective places of employment.”

Mail Man put his Tank-B-Gone Assault Cannon down. “The Minimum Wage Warriors never miss a party!” The others nodded in agreement.

“Plus, we’re all out on our lunch hours,” Meter Girl added.

“Let’s get this party goin’!” Delivery Boy yelled. The guests stepped to one side and revealed a table stacked with pizza boxes and a cooler full of iced soft drinks. “Complementary from Mamma Mia’s Pizzeria!”

“Complementary, eh?” Nuklear Man considered. “What's that gonna cost me?”

“Nuke,” Atomik Lad said. “Just have fun.”

__________

Dr. Genius adjusted her glasses while admiring the sky. She put her hands in her lab coat pockets and rocked back and forth on her bare heels. The hot sand felt good against her skin. It was a sharp contrast to the cold, sterile floors of the Überdyne offices she was used to. “I really don’t get out of the lab enough,” she mused. Her reddish blonde hair flowed in the sea breeze as she shed her trusty lab coat and demonstrated that bikinis are wonderful things.

Nuklear Man's jaw dropped. “Thank God for the man who invented women.”

Mighty Metallic Magno Man, in his full tungsten glory, laid on a beach towel next to Nuklear Man and soaked up some rays.

In the distance, Nuklear Man noticed several women swooning over his fellow hero. “What's he got that I don't got?” he grumbled.

“Brains,” Atomik Lad suggested as he passed by.

“That's nuthin'! How far can you possibly get in life on talent and skill alone? You need charm and good looks to get ahead in this hero eat villain world we live in today. Feh, I'll show them girls who the real hero is ‘round these here parts!”

After a considerable amount of difficulty, Nuklear Man had his Danger: Nuke’s Towel resting on the lumpy ground. He flopped onto it which was about as sandy as, well, sand. He chanced a look to the ladies.

__________

“What’s that guy’s problem?” the first asked.

“I think he’s having a spaz attack,” the second said.

“It’s so nice of Mighty Metallic Magno Man to take care of that epileptic guy,” the third said.

They directed a simultaneous “Aww” at the Tungsten Titan.

__________

“Oh yeah,” Nuklear Man said. “They’re already wooed by my irresistible charms. Now it’s just a matter of reeling them in.” He produced a pair of sunglasses. He slid them on with a confident smile gracing his face. “Ouch!” He flinched with pain and rubbed his left eye. “Lousy sunglasses.” With a confident smile and careful deliberateness, he slid them on again. “Ouch!” He flinched with pain and rubbed his right eye.

__________

“What’s that guy doing
now
?” the first asked.

“Something’s wrong with his head. He keeps flailing it around,” the second said.

“I think he’s got suntan lotion in his eyes,” the third said.

“Are you sure it’s not a seizure?” the first asked.

“What a gimp.”

__________

Nuklear Man held the glasses with both hands at arms’ length. “Brain to Arms, Brain to Arms, over.” He responded to himself in a different voice, “Arms here, Brain. Over.” Back to the Brain’s voice, “Initiate docking procedures.” The glasses slowly approached Nuklear Man’s face as he made a mechanical high-pitched “Vrrrrrm” sound. “Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrm. Gasp, vrrrrrrrm—ouch!” The sunglasses fell onto Nuklear Man’s sand speckled towel. He rubbed both eyes. “I had no idea eye-wear could be so dangerous. They oughta have warnings or somethin’.”

__________

Atomik Lad set out a towel and helped Rachel with hers. “Always the gentleman, eh, Sparky?” she joked.

“Well, I've got to keep up this charade until my mission is complete, otherwise you’d be onto my ploy.”

“Ah, clandestine. Mysterious and romantic. I like it.”

“Yes, that’s it, fall right into my trap.”

She laughed and dropped her shorts to the towel. Atomik Lad wobbled. She pulled off her shirt and tossed them next to the shorts. Atomik Lad wobbled with more urgency than before. Bikinis are the
best
thing.

“Would you mind helping me with my suntan lotion?”

“Mind?” Atomik Lad ceased to wobble. He fell flat on his rear. “Yeow!” He flopped to one side as gracefully as a landlocked fish.

“You’re just having all sorts of trouble today, aren’t you?” Rachel said.

“Something down there poked me,” Atomik Lad said, rubbing his tush.

“Do you know how hard it is for me not to comment further?” Rachel said

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“There’s something just under the surface. And it’s sharp.” Atomik Lad flung his towel to one side and started clearing away the sand. Rachel helped.

“Ah!” she exclaimed. “I felt something.”

Atomik Lad stopped for a moment and looked at her. “All right, now
I'm
the one having trouble restraining myself from making further comments.”

She hit him in the arm and they resumed.

“Wait, I think I felt it too.”

They dug with an excited fury. Rachel fell back aghast. Atomik Lad stared in wide-eyed awe. “I-it can't be!”

“Augch!!”

“
Angus
?!”

The Iron Scotsman’s head stuck out of Atomik Lad and Co.’s excavation site.

“How’d you get down there? Are you all right?” he asked. Rachel was just glad it wasn’t the corpse she initially took it for.

“Bah! Ah’m fine, laddie,” Angus said.

Atomik Lad turned to Rachel. “It’s all right. It’s just Angus.”

She slowed her breathing in an attempt to calm her heart. “Well that explains so much,” she said.

Atomik Lad helped Angus climb out of his earthy prison. Sand poured from the crevices of his Iron: Battlesuit.

“Where’d you get that helmet?” Atomik Lad asked. He plucked it from the Surly Scot’s sandy head. “Those horns must’ve been what poked me. It looks like something a Viking would wear. Not quite your motif.”

Angus blinked irritably in the bright beachy sun. He beat a pound of sand and one of those umbrellas they put in drinks out of his beard. He flicked the cocktail accessory away and it danced momentarily in the salty wind. “Well,” he began. , “Me an’ Seamus left ye place to go drinkin’.” He rubbed his beard in contemplation. “I don’t remember much after that.”

Dr. Genius walked by, her cup filled with carbonated delights. “Oh, Angus, I didn’t know you were going to be here. How are you?”

“Ah was just’ tellin’ the Laddie here about, well, not about much.” He stared at the helmet. “Actually, Ah do remember somethin’, a scene. Real dark place, lit by torches on the walls—real goood for ambiance. Lots o’ angry laddies drinkin’ an’’ eatin’ an’ fightin’, my kind o’ place. There were these golden eagles too, now that Ah thinks about it. Fat ladies on horses, an’ the bartender had a patch over one eye. Didn’t know ye could still find rough places like that in Metroville anymore.”

Atomik Lad turned the helmet in his hands. “Kinda sounds like....”

“Valhalla,” Dr. Genius finished for him.

“But that’s impossible,” Rachel said.

“Well,” Dr. Genius began. “If reality is a state of consciousness, then it stands to reason that one’s consciousness can become so altered that the individual is effectively subtracted from the universe as we know it. It would then be possible to be transported to another reality until the subject’s senses return to normal and he realizes how impossible his environment is, at which point he’s brought back to the here and now. Loss of memory and disorientation would be in keeping with the temporal distortions such a trek across dimensions would incur.”

Angus scratched his head. “Ye know, it kind o’ reminded me of what happened the
last
time Seamus an’ me got to drinkin’ together. This was years ago, mind ye. It was this really bright place, ten times as bright as it is out here. But the seats were the most comfortable my arse has ever known. Like sittin’ on clouds, it was. Anyway, there was this one laddie, handsome devil, and from what Ah recalls, he was pissed off at his boss. Seems this laddie was passed up for a promotion or some such. Sounded like his boss was one of these holier-than-thou types. Poor guy didn’t know what ta doo. So Ah told him not to take any of that arrogant blowhard’s crap. Ah said if he thought he could do a better job, why not start his own company? Well he brightened up real quick when Ah said that. He told me he never woulda thought of doin’ something like that in a million years. He pat me on the back, thanked me, and bought me a drink. I don’t knoow what happened to that laddie, but I’ve never had a problem with my long distance service.”

The others exchanged glances in silence above Angus’s view.

“Still,” Dr. Genius sipped from her cup. “The theory is all very hypothetical of course. No scientific evidence to support it.”

__________

Meanwhile, on the other side of the globe, Seamus’s emerald armored self slowly emerged from a steaming vat of liquid.
Oh, this be one of the nicest hangovers I’ve ever been waking from. I must be in some sort of sauna. That be tasting like soup
. He opened his eyes only to find himself in a large iron cauldron in the middle of a village in the middle of a black forest. Native peoples danced around him. They looked hungry. “Think fast, boy-o.”

__________

Back on the beach, Nuklear Man nearly tripped over Angus. “Hey, Doc.” Then he didn’t trip over Angus.

“Ye blind
oaf
! Watch where ye goin’ or Ah'll
bash
ye empty skull in like the rootten head o’ cabbage it tis!” the Surly Scot raged.