Nuklear Age (90 page)

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Authors: Brian Clevinger

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Nuklear Age
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He screamed. He had killed off entire populations. He knew that now. He had boiled worlds in the heat of their own stars. And now he knew what they felt like, what it was to burn from the inside out, what it was to curse his name.

No, curse
Nihel’s
name.

He did this to me. He destroyed my world. He cast me out. He must pay.

Another scream. It was primal. It was anger. It was “Arel!” It was a crystallization of will and meaning into creation. He was the all-burning center of the universe. He breathed Fire and the Sun was rekindled. A wall of flame surged through the star and ignited its cold furnace once more. The outermost layer was blast into the emptiness of space at nearly light speed. It was a solar flare that would envelope the entire solar system in time. It was of incredible magnitude and racing in all directions. And at its crest, rocketing back to Earth, was a being of living fire ripping through interstellar space like light. Only faster.

I am light, only faster.

I am darkness, only heavier.

I am life, only more terrible.

I am death, only more merciful.

I slip through the cracks between reality and potential. The reality in front of me falls apart and I slip through the cracks of the universe and swim amid the dreamscape of forever once again.

__________

 

A shard of gray light sliced through the darkness of Dr. Menace’s warehouse. The Venomous Villainess stalked through her lair with hurried steps. She hopped onto her Menacycle. The engine revved. Its purple glow pulsed in time with the engine’s roar. The tires squealed and she flew into the desolate streets outside.

It was madness. It was suicide. She knew this, yet she continued on. “If I were the type of perzon who would take thiz lying down, I would not be in thiz line of work,” she told herself as she cut through the empty streets of the Abandoned Warehouse District. For the first time in her career as a villain, she was acting without having thought of every possible contingency. She was suddenly reminded of an old joke.

How do you make God laugh?

Make a plan.

She laughed almost hysterically at it. “Yez. Now iz not the time for planz. They have alwayz failed me. Nor more planz. I muzt zimply
act
, even if it iz merely out of inztinct alone. Thiz shall be an act of pure will.”

__________

 

Nihel soared above the clouds with a veritable army of satellites in tow. His cold eyes scoured the Earth below. “Ah, Earthim. I can taste your fear. Death rules your streets. Your panic, your terror, all the pathetic little fears buried deep in your hearts, they’re all at the surface now.”

With a thought, a pair of satellites streaked down to a nearby city on the American West Coast. Their two explosions expanded into each other to become one. The city was engulfed in fire. Most anyone who might’ve been sheltered from the blast survived. Those who were looting, rioting, panicking, or helping others in the streets were incinerated.

He streaked across the stratosphere and rained fire on every major city that crossed his path. Mechapolis, Japan’s island-city capitol was engulfed in flames. Its citizens were fairly well protected thanks to the city’s peculiar architecture and denizens. It was specifically built to withstand another cataclysmic assault from the air.

Other cities were not as fortunate. Taiwan, New Delhi, Hong Kong, and Moscow. Cities already choked with their dead were now buried in their ashes. Nihel’s wave of destruction swept through Europe. Rome in flames. Paris decimated. Vienna, Munich; beautiful cities; cities that suffered through the wars of a thousand years and wore their scars with dignity now bathed in flames and echoed with screams. Only Avalondon somehow managed to escape its intended destruction. The satellites aimed at it came to a halt inches from the street as if something was consciously protecting the city in this, its darkest hour.

Nihel never noticed when his strikes failed. He was a busy man and what did it matter anyway? He’d make his point. He carved through the clouds over the Atlantic. A small compliment of satellites chased after him still. A smile crept across his face and a mad laugh rose from his breast. “Earthim. Your suffering has just begun! Your destruction will by the dawn of my liberation,” he growled, his voice dripped with anticipation. “Yes. It’s all coming full circle now, isn’t it my little Earthim? That’s how Fate works. Circles. Cycles. There is nothing you can do to stop this! Your destinies have been sealed—how does that make you feel, Earthim!” he bellowed across the ocean. “Angry? Now imagine having that anger gnaw at you for all eternity!”

__________

 

I remember soaring through the dreams of God. Through space that was never born. I emerged in the terrible weight of reality. I have traveled from one end of the galaxy to the other and I have traveled further and faster than anyone within it. Before I could marvel at the pristine beauty of this untouched space I was assaulted by the noise.

Signals pierced my senses like never before. Inside the boundaries of the Council there were trillions of lines of communication stretching its web across thousands of light-years. The inundation was merely an unbearable white noise that permeated the background. I came here to escape it. But this new signal? This solitary light in the darkness. Its singularity focused my awareness of it into a razor sharp blade. And it was a blade forged by the very masters of mundanity themselves. There was no mistaking it. This was the work of the legendary Earthim.

“…Get your news first with Channel 6.…”

“To find out more, call.…”

“…Don’t go there, girlfriend.…”

“…Clearance sale! This weekend only!”

“This season, a new, original,
strikingly
different drama series for the whole family to watch!”

Is there no escape from this banality! No, there is none. Save for the obliteration of its source. These Earthim would die in my flames with the rest of the galaxy eventually, what does it matter if their death comes a few scant years before the rest of their mortal brothers? Is it too much to ask for peace as I wait for my father’s signal? What damage could it do? No one would miss them here in this desolate, unpopulated corner of the galaxy. I’d be more concerned about their timelessness, but they have already played their part in the Symphony. They have outlived their usefulness and now they find my ire.

I become light. The universe freezes in place, my mass is infinity converted to energy. A tiny blue-white orb speaks from a thousand babbling mouths. These Earthim. They pervade my world. The noise. Great Odin’s beard, the noise.

And it all started here.

I am Arel, Harbinger of the Flame. I am no mere god or giant. I am the Unfated. I am change. This world annoys me. I shall destroy it. My body flares with starfire. It courses through my veins. Spheres of Nova energy swirl around my hands…and evaporate away.

No, this is too good for them. Too impersonal, too cosmic. These Earthim deserve more. They deserve to know the face of their killer. They need to know the face of horror. They need to know that they are powerless against me. They need to know what it is to fear. They need to know their death. I dive through the Earth’s thin veil of life. An ocean stretches to my right. It’s splotched with pollutants along the coastline below. The landmass next to it is splotched with purity. Everything else is crawling with
them
. I arc down from their dirty skies into a city, it should be their Metroville from what I remember of the Earthim Disk. It is the center of their societal world. I cannot think of a better place to begin my purge. Above their steel towers I can see a collection of, “Live, on the spot eyewitness action news,” teams concentrated outside the city limits. I detect a crude fission process near them. I swerve into it without slowing.

A brilliant flash from everywhere.

I am floating.

Like a dream of God.

I remember a room so white it hurt my eyes. It was a cube that was completely featureless except for a rectangular sliver of glass set in the wall in front of me. Two faces stare out from behind it. Veronica Menace and Ima Genius, scientific prodigies. Each one had several Ph.D.s in some of the most impossible fields of science and I don’t know if they’re even old enough to vote.

“Are you ready, Nuklear Man?” Ima asks through the intercom thingie we’ve got going.

“Uh. Sure.”

“Power up the generators, Veronica.”

“I do not see the point of thiz experiment.”

“I want to gauge Designate Nu’s strength compared to the data we gathered from Designate Mu earlier this year.”

“They have namez, Ima,” Veronica says.

I wonder who they’re talking about. Eh, if it ain’t me, who cares? I can see Genius working diligently at a computer or something. I can feel an electricity in the air around me.

“Yes, yes. Of course they do. Nuklear Man. Magno. These are media friendly. Catchy.”

“That’z not what I mean.”

“Nuklear Man,” Ima says. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s a bit tingly in here. And not in a good way.”

“Er, thank you.”

“But not necessarily in a
bad
way either.”

“Uh, yes. That’s enough. Thank you. Veronica, Increase the Negaflux field intensity.”

“Fine. But we will not take the field beyond the parameters I zet for John.”

“We will take the field as far as he or your generators can take it. Whichever goes first.”

The walls begin to glow purple. I feel heavier somehow.

“Nuklear Man,” Ima says. “I want you to throw a punch.”

“Gee, I don’t know if I should, Doc. I’m really strong. If I go around carelessly wielding that kind of power, well, I’d probably break some of your expensive, shiny, confusing equipment.”

“Um. Yes. How about you just punch at the air anyway?”

“Hm. I don’t know. Sounds pretty risky.”

“Why don’t you hold back a little?”

“Only a little? Are you sure that’ll be enough? I’m damn mighty, y’know.”

“Fine. Hold back a lot then.”

“Now you’re thinkin’!” I pull back my fist. The muscles in my arm tighten. I punch at the air, not nearly at full power mind you. Even so, I am strength in motion, I am vitality incarnate. Damn. I’m pretty.

My fist hits something. Which is odd because I’m pretty sure air feels a lot more like air, but this feels like a wall and those aren’t usually made of air unless it’s a really useless wall built by really stupid people or maybe an extremely effective imaginary wall erected by a hyper-intelligent race of psychic invaders from beyond the moon! Good
gad
, they’ve probably been monitoring planet Earth for some time using their Psychatronic Arrays. They must’ve reasoned, and rightfully so, that
I
am the most powerful thing in the world and they imprisoned me in this psychic box so they can begin their invasion to enslave the people of Earth in their Vganqy Crystal mines on Xy’kor VII!

“Excellent,” Dr. Menace says.

She doesn’t know! Or does she…?

“Could you punch a little harder this time?” Dr. Genius asks.

She has no idea either. If the aliens have already taken over their minds then it’s most likely that the rest of the planet is in their clutches too. They chose to capture me because my mind is so far advanced that their mental powers couldn’t hope to hold sway over me. Oh, they’re cunning, I’ll give them that. But I’m betting that they have underestimated my power since it’s doubtful any society would have need of understanding or the means to express the truly
cosmic
scale of my phenomenal strength because the only need to name it would come from experiencing it which would have lead to their demise long before a nomenclature for it was devised! Thus, logically, this capturing field thingie of theirs should surely crack if I just punch it hard enough.

So I do.

My fist hits their invisible force wall, only this time weird purple geometric shapes ripple out from the impact.

“Whoa,” I hear Dr. Genius say. “Not that hard!”

It’s proof that they have control over her mind! They don’t want me to escape. They must’ve realized I can shatter their pathetic cage and they’re hoping that the pleas of my trusted friends will persuade me to stop. Ha! Little do they know my policy about listening to others. I don’t! The
fools!

“I told you we have to be careful. The Negaflux field generatorz are only prototypez. I have yet to determine their capacitiez for force negation and redirection.”

Ah-ha! Just as I suspected. Their psychic alien shield cannot even begin to contain my power. These aliens ain’t so tough. And not so psychic either. They shoulda seen this comin’ a mile away.

I charge up the ol’ Plazma Aura. That’s what I like to call it. Dr. Genius says my energy is 98% identical with the sun’s plasma but then it sometimes sounds like we’re talking about blood which is really gross so I decided to spell it with a Z which makes it different even though it’s still pronounced the same but when I see the word in my head it’s PLAZMA in all caps, just like that, and it’s cool. It makes you think of Zap, Zoom, Zot and Zowie and I think those do a good job of describing me. As a person, you know? So any way I charge it up with a little low growl so the aliens know they’re messin’ with the wrong guy. I pull my fist back again and channel all my Plazma Power into it and punch. The force wall begins to give way.

“The field iz beginning to collapze!” Dr. Menace yells.

She’s panicking. She’s afraid I’ll escape. I only hope her mind can recover from when I punch these aliens in their heads a lot and they lose their mental grasp on the people on Earth.

“He’s still applying pressure to it!” Dr. Genius says. “Nuklear Man, stop pushing against the field. It’s not designed for this kind of treatment!”

“Heh. You’re tellin’ me!”

“I’m attempting to compenzate. Increasing the Re-vectoring Coefficient.”

“Like big fancy words can stop fists! Ha!”

“He’s pushing harder now!”

I can feel the wall begin to break. I am
so
good at this.

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