Nuklear Age (70 page)

“There,” Nihel said, gesturing to a point on a three dimensional map of Metroville that he willed into existence on the tabletop. “According to the propaganda footage, this was Arel’s last recorded appearance.” He pointed to a patch of missing and half-built buildings in the otherwise dense forest of Metroville's skyscrapers. “You five will go there and fetch him.”

“What of the Earthim, Lord?” the only woman among them asked.

“Nothing, Safriel. Though they may be indirectly responsible for the entire history of the Galactic Council, it is clear from the broadcast documents I have been reviewing that they have no idea of the role they have played. We know from their Great Disk that they are but children who cannot possibly hope to comprehend what is at stake here. They need not be punished for this. However, should they stand in the way of our goals, dispense with them as any other obstacle.”

The five bowed in acceptance.

“Master,” their smallest statured member began. “If I may, why does Arel—”

“Yours is not to question, Dakael! Find him. And bring him to me. Your orders could not be any more simple!” Nihel took a few deep breaths to compose himself. “Variel. You are in command.”

A silver eyed mountain of darkness nodded silently in response.

“Now go!” Nihel ordered. The floor opened under each of them and they disappeared into the Orb. The five holes sealed themselves without leaving a trace of having been there. Nihel stared into the three dimensional model he carved from the table with the chisel of thought. He willed a wall of his craft into transparency. The blue marble of Earth cut an arc of fragility across the stark blackness of space. “Why, Arel?” he asked. “What has kept you here, kept you from your Fate?” His eyes followed the fiery path of his soldiers as they careened through the thin atmosphere below. “I must admit I am curious of the Earth, even more so now that it seems to hold some special attraction for you. What could make you shirk your Fate?”

He closed his eyes and was swallowed up by a hole in the floor.

__________

“Ima!” Nameless Technician blared from the Scientific: Communications Panel.

“I’m here,” she responded without thought.

“The Orb has deployed five—now
six
, I don’t know, probes or something into the atmosphere.”

“Any information?”

“They have the same high-level KI manipulations as the mothership. According to radar, they’re roughly size of a human and probably have a density that puts their weight between one hundred eighty and three hundred pounds, each one is a little different. Beyond that, nothing.”

Ima snorted an annoyed huff. “Those could be anything. Poison, bombs, the secrets to the universe. Where’re they headed?”

“Metroville.”

“It’s always Metroville,” she muttered while rubbing her temples. “Do we know where? We’ll have to create a reason for evacuation and get people out of there as soon as possible.”

“The first five are going downtown,” Nameless responded. He glanced at a monitor or readout of some kind on his end, Ima couldn’t be sure. “Apparently they’re headed straight for the area Nuklear Man and Superion demolished in their fight.”

Ima’s gaze drifted to a window with the panorama of big blue Earth suspended in nothingness and gravity. “It’s looking for him. What about the other one?”

“Seems to be aiming for the West Side.”

“Why, there’s nothing there but—”

__________

“Abandoned Warehouzes,” Dr. Menace said to herself as she eavesdropped on the conversation from her Evil: Hideout. “I muzt make arrangementz. I’d hate to appear rude.”

__________

Dr. Genius sighed. “We don’t have much time. Get a team down there and keep in contact with me. I want Mighty Metallic Magno Man on stand-by.”

“But I thought you said you didn’t want the Heroes involved.”

“He’ll be there more for crowd control than anything else. There’s construction workers down there, and businessmen nearby. If the situation goes sour, they’ll need to be evacuated.”

__________

The quintet of mini-meteorites landed with a collection of relatively soft thuds in the damp exposed earth of a construction site. The workers stared into what should have been five small craters had they not become a single one on impact.

One figure rose from it. Gadriel, a thin almost elven man draped in a form fitting suit of bright red with bands of yellow around the wrists and collar. He hovered from the hole effortlessly and rest his feet on the ground outside of it.

Another figure appeared from the crater, Safriel. At first glance she seemed a copy of the first, but her outfit was blue where his was red and she had breasts whereas her brother did not. She set down next to him.

Two more forms floated up from the crater simultaneously. One, Kadael, was built like a mountain while the other, Dakael, was more like a sapling. They wore identical outfits of dark storm cloud gray with the same single bands of yellow around the wrists and neckline. The juxtaposition of such similar garb for such dissimilar individuals made each an unintentional parody of the other.

Lastly, an immense form hovered out of the crater. Variel. He was massive, like he could’ve held the other four within his huge frame. He was utterly black, like the color silence would be. But it wasn’t merely a color or a shade of black, it was as though the light could not escape him. He was so black that one lost all sense of perspective when looking directly at him. Every detail was lost in that depthless dark of his body. Every detail except for two expressionless silvery ovals where the eyes should’ve been.

And each of them proudly wore the mark of their master Nihel. The electron orbited N.

The construction workers scratched their collective heads, their work forgotten thanks to the sudden extraterrestrial visitors. A jovial, curious mood permeated the now idle workplace. Except for one place.

“I don’t pay you slobs to sit around slack-jawed!” the portly foreman bellowed as he stormed from his makeshift office. “We’ve got a schedule to keep and I ain’t about to go over budget unless the good Lord himself comes outta the sky and declares, unto me, ‘Thou shalt go over budget!’”

A random worker, thin but muscular from his years in construction, his white shirt smeared with the dirt of honest hands-on work, ran up to the thunderous foreman. “But Boss, there’s—”

“I don’t care what there is, ‘cause what there definitely ain’t is the harmony of construction! The symphony of architecture! The songs of girders and mortar!”

“But, out by the cement mixers, these guys fell outta the sky.”

The foreman clawed his fingers down his face. “If we stopped working every time some weirdo fell from the sky, then we’d never have laid the first brick!”

“But, Boss, they’re—”

“Back to work!”

“Excuse me, Earthim civil works engineer,” a vacuous non-voice said.

“…right behind you,” the worker finished while taking cautious steps that moved him directly away from his employer.

The foreman turned to face a darkness beyond perception. He looked up at two silvery non-eyes that were staring through him. The foreman felt all control wash away from his site in a flood of confusion and suddenly he was twelve years old again with his father’s eyes bearing down on him from unbelievable heights, looming like a thunderhead. “Er, uh. Yes?”

“This is where the one known as Arel was last seen, yes?” the non-voice inquired. The foreman noted that it was as though its source was Variel’s entire body as opposed to a mouth or some such similar apparatus.

“Um, I-I…Arl? You mean Carl?”

“Arel. Harbinger of the Flame.”

The foreman took off his hard hat and wiped his balding scalp with a kerchief. “No. That don’t sound like Carl.”

Variel let out something that sounded like the inverse of a sigh.

“Pardon me,” Safriel, the group’s token female, said as she appeared from behind her gargantuan comrade. “The one we’re looking for, we’re old friends you see. You may know him by another name, but he wears this symbol,” she explained while pulling on the fabric of her costume to flatten the image of the N across her emblem-deformingly ample bosom.

The foreman shook his sense back into himself and made eye contact once more. “Ahem. Yeah, that’s Nuklear Man’s N. What’re you guys, some kind of fan club?”

“Nuklear Man?” Safriel repeated slowly. She released her outfit and let it cling to her once more.

“Yeah. Look, I’ve got to get back to work. We all do.”

“I understand, but please indulge us a few minutes more. We’re new to this quadrant. Er, of the Earth. We were just wondering how we might find this ‘Nuklear Man.’”

“How should I know? I’m just a construction foreman. I think he lives at Überdyne or something. All I know is that whenever the city is in trouble, he comes to the rescue.”

“Interesting,” Variel said with his unvoice. “Thank you, Earthim civil repair authority figure. You may proceed with your tasks.”

“Well, yes. Thank you. Anytime,” he said somewhat at a loss. The five strange strangers floated off his work site. “I gotta get a transfer outta this town.”

__________

They hovered above the diligent construction efforts like the five points of a star.

“You know, you didn’t have to give them that high and mighty Alien Rhetoric shtick,” Safriel said.

Variel answered in his distinctly void-like voice, “And you did not have to lower yourself by conversing in their manner of speech like a common mortal thing.”

“It got us the information we needed, didn’t it?” Kadael defended.

“Which is why I have stayed my hand,” Variel said without looking away from her. “For the time being.”

“Well?” Gadriel said, “Shall we begin?”

“Yes” Variel replied with his empty voice. “We shall.”

__________

“What!” Dr. Genius exclaimed at Yuriko’s possessed body. It was clumsily animated by the only thing that remained of her mind, the consciousness of her telepathic powers. And though Dr. Genius knew that yelling at Yuriko’s body was as effective a means of addressing Psiko as yelling in the mirror or at any other living thing on the face of the Earth, it just felt right to direct her anger at the girl’s body.

“I believe you heard me. A woman of your intelligence should have no difficulty in understanding such a simple statement.”

“At least tell me
why
you won’t help me contact the heroes. It’s no effort for you, you’re already in their minds. There are five maniacal aliens down there tearing Metroville apart for no discernible reason. We have to get a hero down there and
now!”

“As I said before. I am outside humanity. This is not my concern now. I will record. I will remember the human story. And when it is over, perhaps I will have honed my essence, my powers, to such a degree that I will be able to traverse the universe and share your story. Since I am no longer hindered by the baggage of flesh, I could theoretically be wherever there is a mind.”

“This is madness. People are dying,” Dr. Genius pleaded.

“Do you forget that I am in your mind? Try as you might, you cannot hide from me that you are not concerned for their lives so much as for the potential to gather your precious KI data.”

“Sending in Mighty Metallic Magno Man and the others would save lives too. What’s the difference
why
they’re sent?”

“Intent, Doctor. Intent makes all the difference. Not that I would help you in either case, I was merely pointing out that I find your ruse to beguile me a little insulting.”

“At least help me locate them. None of them are responding to their hotlines and I can’t attempt a mind-ride like I did when Crushtacean attacked without my equipment at Überdyne or without your help. Please!”

“I am sorry, Doctor. But in this case, the observer does not influence the observed.”

Dr. Genius let out an exasperated grunt.

“Besides, there is still one Hero you have not tried.”

“But the potential for disaster is too high.”

“Too high to justify the potential loss of data?” Psiko retorted with Dr. Genius’ own thoughts. “Until we meet again, Doctor.” Psiko’s body went limp. Ima had to look away. There was something sickening about a body without a mind standing around. And without gravity, the body just hung there unnaturally.

Dr. Genius leaned over the Scientific: Communications Panel, her hair bobbing in the slow motion of weightlessness. Her eyes were shut tight, the tendons in her hands bulged as her finger nails went colorless from the pressure she exerted while desperately trying to rip the console from its housing. She relented with a resigned huff at the height of her effort.

She hit the Send button.

__________

Several miles outside of Metroville, over a hundred feet under the isolated and barren fields of Irradiated Flats, within the hallowed halls of the Silo of Solitude, the Danger: Danger Phone rang.

__________

Issue 50 – Strange Visitors from Another Planet

The Danger: Danger Phone had been ringing for an eternity. Or at least like twenty whole seconds, but think about it. That’s a long time for a phone to ring. Nuklear Man winced with every blaring jangle of electronic bells. He would’ve answered, or at least considered the possibility of answering, had he not gone back to his little video game nearly the instant Sparky left him alone. That fool!

“That’s just like Sparky,” the Hero cursed. “I bet he left ‘cause he developed the power to see into the future and knew that the phone would ring and since he also knows that I know about his maniacal plot to cause me to fail at this game, he oh so conveniently disappeared so that the lousy Danger: Danger Phone would do his job for him thereby leaving him free of any suspicion while I’m distracted into oblivion.” His video game craft exploded. “Very clever of the little scrawny sidekick,” he mused. “However, it was characteristically unclever of him to think he could get away with it.” He knowingly nod at his own brilliance. “As if I wouldn’t have figured out his super-temporal perceptions. Oh, he’s shrewd, I’ll give him that. But he doesn’t know what he’s up against.” The Danger: Danger Phone continued to ring. “Oh, gosh dang it. Katkat, get the phone. I’m trying to save the galaxy over here.”