Nuklear Age (66 page)

“Why am I not surprised?”

“You guys were, well you’re like the supporting cast in a sitcom that exists as nothing more than a vehicle to keep the star, that’s
me
by the way, in the public consciousness.”

“But those things are always giant stinking flops, usually because the star sucks.”

“Ahem. Yes, well.” Nuklear Man straightened his spandex. “I’m just
so
much better than them.” He flexed to drive this point home.

Atomik Lad rolled his eyes. “Gotcha.”

__________

“One down,” Dr. Menace mumbled to herself. “Two shotz to go.”

“Um. Can we get down now that you’ve fired your whatever it is at Superion?”

“One moment, my dear,” Dr. Menace’s voice was serene and calming. “I have to take one more shot. To make sure Superion iz finished off, you underztand.”

“Well. Sure, I guess.”

The eyepiece’s digital display cast a nigh tvision green hue on Dr. Menace’s eye. Her pupil contracted tightly. Superimposed brackets converged on Nuklear Man’s Herculean frame.

Rachel could feel the building vibrate. First in the bones of her feet, then it crept all the way up her legs, and then she could hear the wail of metal strained beyond its tensile strength. “Oh no.”

The eyepiece reported a LOCK and Dr. Menace’s face exhibited the same smile a mountain lion does the instant before it pounces. “At lazt. I have—” the building began its collapse. “What!”

“We’re falling,” Rachel stated as though she were not in mortal danger but rather watching the scene play out in a movie. “Dammit.”

Dr. Menace stared intently into her eyepiece.
Two shots left. Just enough to shoot down Nuklear Fool and freeze a piece of falling masonry to keep myself from plummeting to my death
, she coolly calculated in the blink of an eye. She was aware of the roof losing its solidity. It churned under her as the stress throughout the building’s damaged frame rent it asunder in several places.
Pull the trigger, pull the trigger. Too bad I’ll miss the stupid look on his face
.

And Atomik Lad’s too
.

She squeezed on the trigger.

Atomik Lad. Bloody mess of a past
.

Rachel. Bloody mess of a future.

I wonder if Atomik Lad will find it as ironically funny as I.

...Atomik Lad.

Rachel.

Fractions of second crawled by.

If I allow her to die, it would no doubt bring the Atomik Lad’s unbridled rage against me and my efforts to rule the world.
She almost convinced herself this was the actual reason for her actions. She wheeled around, held the cannon’s stock against her hip, and aimed. “Get on the cycle and
do not let go!”
she ordered at the top of her lungs.

Rachel reacted without thinking and jumped onto the nearby Menacycle just as the section of roof it rested on gave way. Her eyes clenched shut, a scream scrambled up her throat but she couldn’t let it out. She couldn’t allow herself to accept this unalterable hand of fate as the truth.
I’m not falling, I’m not falling, I’m not falling, I’m not falling!

I’m
not
falling?

The Menacycle’s cool metal surface had suddenly become warm, like the sun had chosen to shine upon it and it alone for a minute. Rachel next became aware that she was no longer moving. She cracked an eye open just in time to watch Dr. Menace careen below her riding a slab of broken roof like a surfboard, the Nega Cannon’s muzzle pressed against it, her black hair whipping over her exotic pale face like some kind of nihilistic punk rocker on an express elevator to hell. Chunks of the building fell past Rachel as she caught a purple glimmer flash around Dr. Menace at the moment she should’ve impacted the rubble strewn street. The Venomous Villainess then appeared to hop down near a flickering street light and look up at Rachel.

Say something
, Rachel thought.
She’s waiting for you to say something
.

Dr. Menace slinked into the darkness

“Or not.”

__________

Atomik Lad turned to watch a building collapse in the distance. He did a few quick estimations in his head. “Y’know. I think Menace’s attack might’ve come from around there. Or near it anyway. I want to check it out to make sure everything’s okay.”
Nuklear Man was still flexing. “Go for it. I am, as you can tell,” flexity-flex-flex. “Otherwise occupied.”

“Right.”

“
Damn
, I’m pretty.”

__________

Issue 48 – The End of an Age

A Monday night one month later…

Atomik Lad sat on the Danger: Couch. He slouched the way a limp body would if someone had thought to place it there as a sort of practical joke to scare the bajeezus out of the next person to enter the room. The Danger: Living Room was completely dark save for the soft glow of the Danger: TV. He flipped through the channels so quickly it created a strobe effect. He came to a stop at the Action Eye Witness On the Spot News Action Team Terror War Goodthink Edition News Coverage music.

“Hello, I’m Steve Stevenson.”

“I’m Robert Robertson with sports.”

“And I’m Erica Erickson. Johnny Johnson has the weather. Here’s your eleven o’clock news.”

The camera focused on Steve’s face which had been tele-genetically engineered to induce a deep feeling of trust and warmth when viewing it. “Tonight’s top story. Tomorrow will be the thirtieth day since the capture of Superion. Over ninety-eight percent of Metroville’s eleven million citizens have been returned to their homes to date thanks to the tireless efforts of the city’s overhero community and Überdyne.”

A shot of Erica. “That’s right, Steve,” she said while staring blankly into the space just in front of the camera. Her generically inviting looks weren’t too good to make women viewers jealous, but they just good enough to statistically interest men. She wasn’t beautiful per se, but more like a committee’s idea of it. “I had the pleasure of meeting up with some of those selfless heroes while they were on site helping to rebuild the city after their epic battle.” She fake smiled a half second too long while the tape was cued up.

Footage of Nuklear Man’s beaming face filled the screen while Erica tried to push herself into the camera’s frame. She shoved a microphone between herself and the self-adoring Hero. “How does it make you feel to bring so much hope for the citizens of Metroville?” she asked

“Well, I’ll tell you Diane.”

“Erica.”

“Never
contradict me,” he snarled. “Ahem. As I was saying, it makes me feel good. Good because it reminds me how much more powerful I am than everyone else. Good because it reminds everyone else how easily I could destroy their puny little world. Why, in the blink of an eye, I could vaporize you into your composite particles. I am the Nuklear messiah of the electric age! Bow down! Bow down before my power! And then get up again. And dance.
Dance
for me, my pawns! Mwa hahahahaha!”

The camera panned as Erica walked past Nuklear Man to Atomik Lad. “He’s such a jokester, that Nuklear Man,” she said to the ex-sidekick as he came into frame.

“Joking?” one could just barely hear Nuklear Man say from off-camera.

“Facing down Superion was quite a feat,” she said to Atomik Lad. “Why did you do it?”

Atomik Lad fidgeted a bit. His weight shifted from one leg to the other as he spoke. His eyes darted between Erica’s and the camera lens, “Er. We. I mean, we just do what has to be done. I’d like to think that anyone would’ve done the same in our position.”

“Well, I don’t know if I would have,” Erica said with her idiotic anchor-person laugh.

“You
are
a local news reporter after all,” he mumbled as the microphone moved on to Mighty Metallic Magno Man.

“Yo.”

“Mighty Metallic Magno Man, what would we do without heroes like you three?”

“Oh, we’re not so special. Parents, teachers, community leaders, volunteers, those are the real heroes. I think we forget them because they’re just every day people. That, and they don’t go around moving mountains or tossing cars across the road. But they deserve every bit as much recognition as we get. If not more.”

How could ya not love that guy, huh? Huh?

“Thank you, Heroes. For your time and for your dedication.”

“Dance for me!” Nuklear Man said from the background just before the cut to Steve’s close-up in the studio. “Thanks, Erica. In other news, authorities are still searching for the whereabouts of the internationally infamous overvillain terrorist, Dr. Veronica Menace. She is wanted for questioning in regards to her role in Superion’s rise to power and subsequent defeat by the city’s Heroes.”

Atomik Lad rolled his eyes. “I told the news people a hundred times that we would have lost without Dr. Menace’s help,” he grumbled.

“Meanwhile, Superion himself is still being held in special quarters at Überdyne while awaiting his trial. Judge Hangemall Letgodsortitout had this to say: ‘That boy ain’t got a chance. The power was knocked out at my office during that confounded battle and I had to go without watchin’ no wrastlin’ tapes for like an hour!’”

Another shot of Erica. “When we come back, footage of the Skyjumper, the new spacecraft designed by Dr. Genius, and her thoughts on its maiden flight tomorrow morning. And Rob with sports.”

Atomik Lad hit the mute button and rest the top of his head against the plush cushion of the Danger: Couch. The Danger: Main Doors were high above him. Little yellow guide lights blinked along the cylindrically curved Danger: Walls up to it.

“Hey there, Sport.” Rachel’s grinning face invaded his field of vision.

He winced. “Let’s stick with Sparky, eh?”

She leaned down on the Danger: Couch’s fluffy back and kissed him on the forehead. “Just teasing.”

“Hmmphf. I’ll tease you.”

“Promise?” she said with a coy wink.

“Good gravy,” he whispered. “Ahem. Finished your homework then?”

She shrugged. “I’m not doing any more of it anyway. Would it have been asking too much for you boys to take your little battle closer to campus? Maybe take out a chunk of the Fine Arts building so I wouldn’t have to do this crap?”

“We were a bit pressed for time. Next epic battle, though. I promise.”

“You’re a peach.”

“You know I try.”

“So what have you been doing out here while the rest of us were diligently not flunking out of school, hm?”

“Oh, just watching TV. Stupid news is on. They’re still talking about Superion.”

“Geez. It’s been, what, a month already. They need to get over it.”

“I know. It’s like they love to hear themselves talk so much that they don’t care
what
they’re saying, as long as they’re saying it. Even if it’s the same crap over and over.”

“It’s nothing more than meaningless distractions to keep people from worrying about what really matters.”

Atomik Lad shifted around to get a better and more comfortable view of her. “You know they still treat Menace like she’s as much of a villain as Superion. They don’t come right out and say it, but they practically scream it with the language they use.”

“Ugh. She
saved
me,” Rachel said. “Hell, she saved the city. I swear, these news programs spend so much time telling us how trustworthy they are just so we’ll unquestioningly swallow whatever tripe they throw at us.”

“Don’t get me started.”

“Well, I’m going to bed. Hope to see you soon,” she said with a wink.

“You will. I just have to work up the motivation to stand up.”

“I’m not motivation enough?” she said with mock offense.

“You know that’s not it.”

“I know. I’m just making light of a dangerous situation, Mr. Field. Besides, it’s been what? Two weeks since the last time you nearly killed me. I think we’re making some real progress.”

“If you can call that progress.”

“Shush. We’ll get through this. We just have to take things slowly. I don’t mind waiting. I’m sure you’re worth it. And you know what?”

“Hm?”

“I know
I
am.”

“Hm!” He gathered some semblance of mental coherence. “I…oooh…lady, you…flubba. Waaaa.”

She laughed. “What have I told you about flattery?”

“Why do you think I’m doing this—I mean—What?”

“Silly boy.” She walked back into the Danger: Katkat’s Room.

“Yowza” Atomik Lad told the darkness.

__________

Tuesday morning, twenty-thousand feet above sea-level and climbing…

The Skyjumper was a prototype space craft. Depending on how it was equipped, it could serve as the replacement to the aging Space Shuttle, or become a way to the stars for commercial fliers. The Skyjumper’s main asset was affordability. It was amazingly cheap to build and maintain compared to other designs. Probably because it employed a larger version of Dr. Genius’ own hover belt so all it needed was a relatively small but constant supply of power to alter the Intrinsity of the space around the craft to allow it to move around.

Dr. Genius sat in the passenger compartment of the Skyjumper which would have been exactly cramped enough to be annoying, like regular commercial airliners, if not for the fact that she was the only passenger on board. She flipped through some readouts, scribbled some notes, and made some calculations with her handy mini-supercomputer.

And still her thoughts wandered.

How could I have let Superion come to power? Media manipulation. I hadn’t thought Veronica capable of that kind of subtlety, that kind of forethought, patience. I hope the media filters I’ve put into place since are enough to ensure that the public at large does not turn on our Heroes again. I must secure the public’s trust in them so they can continue to gallivant around the world, showing off those wonderful KI manipulations for my remote sensors to detect and analyze. Every iota of data leads me one step closer to my ultimate goal.

The Skyjumper rattled slightly as it passed through turbulence or some such. She leaned closer to the window to get a better view. The Earth’s surface was a slow motion model coasting below her. Clouds whizzed past. She craned her neck to look above the rising craft. Venus and a few bright stars could be seen if one knew where to look.