Nuklear Age (78 page)

She jumped toward him in a flash of motion. Somewhere along the line she’d spun around and delivered a spinning kick against Nuklear Man’s jaw before landing. Nuklear Man spit dirt out of his mouth. He didn’t remember landing on the ground, but everything after the kick was a painful blur anyway. “This hardly seems fair, really,” he said in a strangely detached moment.

“Shut
up!”
Safriel snapped, punctuating her sentiment with a swift kick to his temple.

Now sprawled on his back, Nuklear Man could see Safriel leaning over him. Her body had an odd, slightly opaque, crystalline sort of appearance to it. “I wonder if that has anything to do with her apparent immunity to my energy based attacks,” he mused without actually acknowledging her presence.

“Yes!” she yelled with an exasperated huff. “Don’t you remember when I was gloating about how I watched you battling the others and used my matter alteration powers to rearrange the atomic composition of my body to perfectly refract your energy based attacks?”

Nuklear Man blinked and diverted his gaze from the birdie that had been flying far over head and looked right into Safriel’s multi-faceted eyes that were bearing down on him with all the weight of a mountain. “Oh. I’m sorry. Were you talking just then?”

“Grah!” She grabbed at his collar and hauled him to his feet.

“Oh, why thank you,” Nuklear Man said while dusting himself off. “It just wouldn’t do for me to stay all dirty like that. I’ve got to look good for the cameras, you know.”

Safriel was clawing her face and growling in frustration.
Nuklear Man looked around. “Speaking of which, where
are
all the cameras anyway? The news people usually make it to these things before the cops or anybody like that. And now that I think about it, where are the cops and stuff too?”

__________

Meanwhile, at one of many “Checkpoints” set up by Überdyne at key locations along the perimeter of the fairly large section of downtown that had been decimated by Nuklear Man and Superion a month ago and was now having its wounds reopened by Metroville’s latest epic battle…

“What do you mean we don’t have clearance into the area?” Erica Erikson asked Faceless Employee, one of the Überdyne Checkpoint Guards. “We’re the
press
. We can go anywhere.”

Faceless held a clipboard. It was very official. Behind him was an Official: Road Block, several other Official: Personnel, and an Official: Überdyne Van.

He turned to the first page in his clipboard. “Your equipment isn’t fit for entrance into the area. Nuklear Man is currently battling an entity or entities whose power or powers would have adverse effects with your electronics. Without the proper shielding, said equipment could become potentially hazardous to yourself and others. As such, Überdyne cannot, in good conscience, allow you passage.”

“Fine. Harry.” Erika turned to her cameraman and handed over her microphone. “Here, I’ll go in myself.”

“Ahem,” Faceless said. He flipped over to the next sheet. “The full extent of these electrical disturbances is undetermined at this time. We have evidence that leads us to believe that exposure to the energy or energies being released by the entity or entities may pose a threat or threats to any complex system or systems that employ electricity. The human brain included. As such, Überdyne cannot, in good conscience, allow you passage.”

“Well, thank
you
, Überdyne,” Erica said with a pinch of sarcasm.

Faceless flipped to the third page. “And Überdyne thanks you.”

Erica stared through Faceless for nearly a minute. “Just what gives you jokers the right to do this?”

Another flip. “Rights of ownership. Überdyne owns ninety-five percent of the land upon which the current condition or conditions apply. It is our responsibility to do everything in our power to keep the populace at bay for the sake of their safety or safeties.”

“What about the freedom of press?” Erica asked.

Faceless leaned closer to her. “Trust us. We’re doing this for your own good.”

__________

The overhead lights kept flickering.

“That’s really starting to annoy me,” Atomik Lad said.

“It makes it hard to see far. I mean, it’s dark overall but since the lights keep flickering, your eyes never quite get used to it.”

Atomik Lad squint into the darkness beyond them. “I think I see something moving up ahead.”

“I should hope so. This is a mall in America. I’d hate to think there’s an hour of the day when one of these things isn’t packed.” And with that, the fair Rachel bumped right into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t see you there. It’s the lighting in here, you know.”

The someone looked right at Rachel. “Connnnsuuuume,” he said in a mindless voice.

His eyes were sallow, shallow, hollow, and apparently focused on something just over Rachel’s shoulder. In one hand, he held a wide-open wallet with its credit cards flopping out of it; in the other, a collection of shopping bags.

“Must…buuuuy,” he told no one in particular.

Rachel jumped closer to Atomik Lad who was subsequently bumped into another shopper. It was a younger woman. Her purse was dragging along as she slowly shuffled her sluggish legs. She was burdened by an array of bloated shopping bags.

“Er, I’m sorry,” he apologized out of habit before getting a good look at her. At which point he could only say,
“Gah!
Get it away!”

“Nnnng,” she responded. “Must justify latest fashions’ powers over me by buying into them.”

Atomik Lad and Rachel were back-to-back. If they listened carefully, they could hear the shuffling movement and mindless babbling of the shoppers surrounding them in the darkness.

“Trendy…must define self by trends.”

“Conform…must not deviate from cliché media images.”

“They’re like, I don’t know, like zombies,” Atomik Lad said.

“Okay,” Rachel said. One of the consumer zombies bumped into her as it passed by without acknowledging her existence. “How do we get out of this?”

“I have—
oof
, no idea,” Atomik Lad answered. The zombie population seemed to be steadily growing. “What the hell? Did someone open the bottle of Easily Influenced Morons or what?”

Rachel squeezed closer to him. “Maybe. Look.” She pointed at the shops along their walkway.

“What about them?”

“Look. The Gorge, the Unlimited Limited Incorporated, Old Army, Ambercrappy and Blech.”

“Oh, I get it. That explains their willingness to blindly consume and follow.”

“The question now is how do we take advantage of this information,” Rachel grunted while trying to keep from being swept away. The flow of shopper-zombies was nearing a continuous rate and threatened to take them along like an irresistible undertow.

__________

“Ya-haha!” Angus cried out triumphantly. His foam axe was a blur of action cutting a swath through the flood of toy-crazed children.

Norman swung his foam sword through wide arcs pushing aside two or three of the little monsters at a time.

“How many hit points do ye think these buggers got?” Angus asked over the clamor of battle.

“What’re you talking about?” Norman asked while shoving one child out of his way.

“Ye know. Hit points. Like when ye drivin’. Ye get ten points for old people, twenty for bicyclers. Like that.”

“Oh. Geez, I don’t know. Seems kinda morbid talking that way about kids. Yeowch!” Norman had to pry a pair of jaws and the child they were attached to from his forearm. “I’m tungsten, kid. You shouldn’t be able to hurt me that way.”

The snarling beastling wriggled out of Norman’s grip and joined its throng.

“Hey, where’s Shiro?”

“Bah! That oaf. Probably joined these wee kiddies lookin’ for—Ya-ha! Lookin’ for that Super Action Guy Mega nonsense.”

Shiro popped up atop one of the benches that was placed throughout the mall’s walkways. The goblin kids milled around underneath him. He wore a Mr. Mysterium purple pointy magician’s hat with sparkly stars and crescent moons adorning it and a Mr. Mysterium tuxedo jacket which, on the tiny warrior, was like an oversized robe. He held a Mr. Mysterium Book of Magic Instruction in one hand and waved the other around “Mysteriumly”. “Hai. Accountant the time. The me is now!”

Angus spun around. “Get down here and
fight!
We still gots to get to the blasted Food Court Junction!”

One of the feral child-beasts launched himself from the masses. He soared through the air straight at Angus’ back.

Shiro’s eyes went wide. His hand dove into the mock tuxedo-robe and he chanted the magical spell exactly like Mr. Mysterium’s Book of Magic Instruction said. Or as close to it as Shiro would be likely to get. “Large in Age, are the interlockers that magic spirit time, when then they time gone—heavy with mystery!” He threw three thin interlocking rings that were painted gold into the air. They wrapped around Angus’ would-be assailant who promptly fell to the ground with his arms pinned uselessly to his sides.

“
Aye
laddie!” Angus cheered. “Ah owes ye one!” He spun his foam axe and delivered a brutally harmless blow to another little monster with a resounding,
“Aughk!”
of a battlecry.

Norman stumbled around. Over a dozen of the scrawny creatures had latched onto him. “I’m goin’ down!”

“Blast these damned goblins!” Angus cursed as he hacked at the mob. “Ah can nay get to ye, laddie!”

“Go on without me!” Norman said. “I’ll take out as many as I can!”

“Norman-san!” Shiro’s hands dove into his robes. “Selector, the volunteering cards of fated to being!” Hundreds of playing cards flew from his sleeves. They rained down on Norman’s impish aggressors like a storm of locusts from an angry god. The monster children fell from the Tungsten Titan like autumn leaves. Norman stood up and was the very paragon of strength once more. “Thanks Shiro. That magic-user’s kit sure is handy.” He sputtered for a second and coughed out a Three of Clubs. “What the?”

Shiro smiled wide as he pulled a card from under his magician’s hat. He turned it for Norman to see.

“The Three of Clubs?
Wow.”

“Hai, but now the heavy with troubling dragons! Is me!” the Tiny Typhoon said as he tried, in vain, to beat away the hands dragging him down into the churning mass of devil children.

“Protect the magician!” Angus roared.

__________

Variel was a mass of blackness that might have had all three dimensions to it. It was hard to tell by looking directly at him. The only discernible features in his dark form were his eyes by their complete lack of being like the rest of him. He was like a statue of nothing bearing down with all the weight of the unknown.

Safriel’s crystalline body tumbled up to his feet. She coughed and stood up favoring her left leg. “Damn it,” she spat, speaking half to herself and half to Variel. “He’s beating me to a pulp out here now. We’ve been fighting for so long,” she gasped for air. “I’m just worn out, but he hasn’t so much as broken a sweat. What’s he
made
of!”

“The stars, child,” Variel answered with that negative voice that seemed to emanate from his entirety. “You could simply forfeit your turn. It is clear that you cannot win.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Var.”

“You may be able to shield yourself from his fire, but there is nothing that can save you from his strength. You’d have to pull the very stars from the sky to defeat him.”

Safriel fell silent. Directly in front of her, some distance away and slightly obscured from the dust clouds kicked up from their battle, was Nuklear Man. His golden cape flowed somewhat like a field of wheat on a windy day.

He waved at her.

“Grah! He’s just taunting me!” she growled. “I’ve got the power of all the permutations of matter at my finger tips, but I can’t do a
thing
against him!” She watched Nuklear Man’s Plazma Aura as it glinted off the dust and dirt swirling around him. “Or can I?”

“Feel free to forfeit. There’s no shame in knowing one’s own limits.”

“Shut
up
, Var.” Her face melted into a crystalline sneer. “I’ve got an idea.” Her crystallized body became more opaque, like its torso had been injected with a thick fog that slowly spread to her limbs. “I should’ve thought of this sooner!” She shot toward the Golden Guardian with renewed vigor.

Variel smiled, though it was impossible to tell by looking at him.

__________

“I’ve got…a Plan,” Rachel said.

The consumer zombies were suffocating in number. “I am what I buy.”

“Products are like chicken soup for the soulless.”

“A plan, huh? Well, that’s certainly a change from how Nuke and I tend to get through these things, but let’s hear it.”

She grabbed the Game Junction bag from Atomik Lad. “Just follow my lead.”

“Uh. Sure, no problem.”

Rachel shoved her free hand deep into the glossy plastic bag. “Behold, leave us be, foul creatures of conformity, for I possess that which is despised by your dark masters.
I do what I want to do!”
She held the video game high above her head. “For you see, I am a girl, yet I play video games!”

“Nnnnnrrrrr!” the zombies nearest her moaned in agony. They clawed at one another to escape Rachel’s socially unacceptable claim.

“And I am not wearing enough make-up to double as a clown!” she announced. The zombies recoiled in horror. Several fainted outright.

“You’ve given us some breathing room, thank God.”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t
so
bad being pressed up against you.”

“Well I, ooh.” His mind went all
blarg
for a second. He shook out of it. “Okay,
focus
. We’re still not out of this. How long do you think you can keep them at bay?”

“With my distaste for popular culture, quite a while.”

“Must…join the flock!” A nearby consumer lunged for Rachel. It grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her toward the others.

“Rachel!” Atomik Lad blurt.

“Ack!”
she screamed while beating her kidnapper with the video game box. The zombie hissed and released her. “It burns! It burns!” the creature rasped as it clutched where its face had been struck. “But the sooner we get out of here, the better,” she said, stumbling back to Atomik Lad.