The Future of Supervillainy

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The Future of Supervillainy Page 15

by C. T. Phipps


  I looked around for Maria and saw no sign of her. “So, I take it that Maria got away with the spear?”

  “She got away with a spear,” Odin said. “I gave her a fake.”

  I blinked. “Why? She passed your tests.”

  “Yes, accent on my tests,” Odin said. “I’m the one who determines who gets what from them.”

  I stared at him. “Then why did you let Tom Terror, Nazi Mad Scientist, get away with the Chaos Orb?”

  “You’re really hung up on this Nazi thing,” Odin said, sounding like he thought it was akin to smoking or body odor.

  “Yeah, I kinda am!”

  Odin muttered. “I lost it in a dice game.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked.

  “I lost it in a Surtur-damned dice game!” Odin snapped. “Tom Terror was supposed to die in my labyrinth’s traps, but he plowed through all of them. I was going to fight him in the final challenge so he couldn’t take off with the orb but then he mentioned dice and well, I kind of lost control of myself. I’ll twist my word to the point of incomprehensibility, look what I did to the dwarves who made Mjölnir, but I never vanir on a debt.”

  “Vanir on a debt?” I asked.

  “Vanir are a bunch of dirty-dirty lying cheats,” Odin said. “Sexy as hell, though. I used to have a marriage like yours and the wife would often invite a few of those—”

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Listen, Santa, I need that spear.”

  Odin frowned. “I am not Santa. Why do people keep confusing us?”

  “You live up north, you’re magical, the beard—”

  “That describes Ned Stark, but you don’t see him delivering toys.”

  It didn’t describe Ned Stark, but I wasn’t going to belabor the point. “Listen, are you going to give me the spear or not?”

  “What do you need it for?” Odin asked. “This spear and I have been through a lot together.”

  “I’ll give it back,” I said, lying to the deity. “Maria said that it could be used to suppress the powers of the Primal Orbs, which I think is a very good idea if I don’t want to die. It is also necessary to turn the doohickey that Tom Terror is going to, uh, and the McGuffin.”

  “You have no idea what it’s for, do you?” Odin asked, crossing his arms.

  “Some of what I said was accurate!” I snapped back. “Probably.”

  Odin let loose a hearty laugh that made his stomach roll like a bowl full of jelly. Being as Hanukah is a religion about victory over pagans occupying your homeland, I didn’t have any dog in this Santa vs. Odin fight. Still, Odin really did have a strong resemblance to Old Saint Nick.

  Odin sighed. “One hundred thousand years ago, the Ultranians were Ultra-Force based beings who came to this world to examine proto-humanity. They created this pocket-dimension in the center of the Earth and set up all sorts of monitoring stations. They performed a lot of experiments on the still-evolving race and put the Super-gene in the most explosive breeders. From there, they took sample homo sapiens idaltu across the universe to populate their worlds. That’s why most of the universe’s other species resemble humans.”

  “In a world of jetpacks and talking monkeys, I really have never bothered speculating on that,” I said. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s like worrying about why people spontaneously break into song during musicals.”

  I mean, really, sometimes you just had to go with it.

  “Nevertheless, it’s true,” Odin said, looking at me with his one good eye. “The spear is the key to regulating the development of your race. Tom Terror has access to all the machinery but is still figuring out how to turn it on or off. With the spear, he or you could accelerate humanity’s evolution by millions of years.”

  I blinked. “Evolution actually doesn’t go in a straight line. People aren’t always getting smarter, stronger, or better. It’s just improvements in medicine—”

  Odin looked annoyed, which surprised me as I’d thought the conversation would have irritated him long before that point. “In other words, giving you the spear means there’s a bigger likelihood of Tom Terror or Maria getting control over humanity’s future.”

  I blinked. “What, you don’t think I can take both of them out?”

  Odin didn’t answer. It was as clear a statement of his lack of faith in me as could be made. Honestly, it was starting to annoy me that the only people who had any belief I could kick ass were the fascists.

  I sighed. “Let’s gamble for it. My orb for your spear.”

  Odin’s eye twinkled. It was the look of a compulsive gambler who had just been given an unlimited line of credit at the craps table. “Haha. Now you’re talking. What game?”

  “Rock, paper, scissors,” I said, dryly.

  Odin visibly deflated but nodded. “Fine.”

  “One, two, three,” I said, holding out my hand flat.

  Odin stared, having made a fist. “Son of a…. How?”

  I sighed. “Really? Was there any doubt that you, the god of badass burly dudes, was going to do rock?”

  Odin grumbled something about being the god of wisdom. “It’s a stupid game. Rock should break paper.”

  “It’s magic paper. Pony up with the spear,” I said, holding out my hand.

  “My pony has eight legs,” Odin said, conjuring Gungnir and handing it over. “I want this back.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, again lying.

  I took it and gazed at it. Much to my annoyance, the spear didn’t look anything like one used to kill things. Instead, it looked like something out of the future or a cartoon. It was only vaguely spear-like and more like a tuning fork made from alien metal. It glowed with a large number of Kirby dots that appeared in and out of time while resonating with a strange unearthly music. I felt the power within in it, and while I didn’t put it past Odin to cheat me, I believed it was the real deal.

  “Thanks,” I said, staring at it.

  “You have no idea how to use this thing, do you?” Odin asked.

  “Not a clue,” I said. “That’s never stopped me before, though.”

  “Well, don’t get yourself killed,” Odin said. “Wait until you’re in battle to die.”

  I nodded then turned around to depart, stopping midstep. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “If you don’t expect me to answer,” Odin said. “Nothing is free in this life, Gary.”

  “Yeah, but talk is cheap.”

  Odin seemed to consider that. “Alright, you can ask.”

  “Is there anything of Mandy in Maria or am I only just getting my wires crossed?” I asked. “I hate her, but I want to think there’s something redeemable in her. Maybe just because she’s all that’s left of my wife.”

  Odin didn’t respond for a moment.

  “So, I guess you’re not answering,” I said, starting to walk again.

  Odin grumbled then looked to the ceiling. “When the old universe was destroyed in the Great Retcon, a flaw was introduced into the universe. One that inevitably resulted in all of the victories of heroes becoming ash. Evil always rising to fight again. Entropicus was the embodiment of that flaw and has had many incarnations over the millennia. Cain, Emperor Titus, Caligula, Nero, Tom Terror, President Omega, and Gorthax the Tyrant of 10,000 Galaxies. All predecessors to the evil god he becomes at the end of time.”

  I was confused. “I’m not sure what this has to do with Mandy.”

  “He is the evil at the heart of this four-color comic book world that Destruction and Death have tried to keep imprisoned. Ultragod was their weapon against it and Merciful was tricked into killing him in the belief he could get his world back. He tried to make the world perfect to make sure he could never rise to power. When you needed your wife at your side, desperately, he contacted Mandy’s soul and asked for her help against him. Merciful showed her the hellish future that could be delayed but not averted. She refused.”

  “She refused?” I asked, remembering that Mandy (secretly Maria in her body) had claimed to have spent
two hundred years in a hellish dystopian future.

  “Yes,” Odin said. “She would never be a pawn to evil—even if that evil wore her husband’s face. So, Merciful found another heroine and showed her the same horror. Spellbinder was broken by what she saw. She’ll do anything to take over the world now to prevent Entropicus from conquering reality.”

  I sighed. “Do we really need a dictator to stop another dictator?”

  “No,” Odin said, surprising me. “We need a hero. Someone who can inspire people to remember that while evil can’t be defeated, good can’t either. You know, bullshit like that.”

  “So Maria is a fallen hero,” I said. “Full on Annie Skywalker.”

  “Just like you’re a really irresponsible Luke Skywalker,” Odin said. “Or Rey, but she’s a Mary Sue.”

  “Hey, I like Rey,” I said. “I just hate the movies she’s in.”

  “Kylo Ren?” Odin suggested.

  “Okay, you’re now just being insulting,” I said. “The only thing we have in common is we’re both devastatingly handsome supervillain fanboys.”

  Odin waved goodbye. “Good luck, Gary. You’re going to need it. Remember, some evils need to be fought with good and some evils need to be fought with evil.”

  “I think that’s quoting a Vin Diesel movie.”

  “Yeah, yeah, there’s not much for gods to do in the afterlife except watch television and screw with the living. You’ll figure that out soon enough.”

  “I’m not a god,” I said, simply. “No matter what the kooky magic test says.”

  “You are. Just like the lamer kid brother of a better god, like me. Donnie Wahlberg to Mark Wahlberg. John Wilkes Booth to Edwin Booth. Cain to Abel.”

  “I’m beginning to see why Loki betrayed you guys.”

  Odin’s expression turned grave. “For a thousand years, Loki and I searched for a way to avert Ragnarök. He was desperate to avoid betraying his brothers in blood. In the end, he discovered that if he didn’t lead the forces of the enemy then they’d end up being led by an undead Baldur resurrected by Hel. We’d lose and no new world would rise from the ashes. So he took one for the team and murdered my son. He became the monster that we’d slay.”

  “Yeah, I don’t recall that from my Bulfinch’s Mythology.”

  “Maybe because I’m making it up. Maybe Loki was just a jackass. It’s also possible he was like you and being the bad guy was just what he was meant to be.”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I stuck out my thumb. “So, how do I get out of here?”

  Odin gestured and a doorway opened to the labyrinth. He reached into his pocket and tossed me a golden apple.

  I caught it. “What’s this for?”

  “A gift,” Odin said. “Just in case you need a power boost or a cure for any horrible condition. It’s the last of them.”

  “What will the rest of the Aesir eat?” I asked.

  “What rest of the Aesir?” Odin said, slowly vanishing from sight.

  I was kind of disappointed I didn’t get to fight a giant snake or spider as the climax to my big treasure hunt, but I was glad I’d managed to acquire the weapon I was looking for. Putting away the Golden Apple, I walked out the door and was surprised to find myself surrounded by thousands of Nur’Ab’Sal citizens. They were every color of the rainbow, dressed in togas and exotic dress that combined traditions from all the world’s people. They were just the kind of people that P.H.A.N.T.O.M wanted to wipe from the face of the Earth. It probably was the second-most abominable country in the world to them after Brazil.

  Standing among the crowd of onlookers were my associates: Cindy, Mr. Inventor, Diabloman, his daughter, Reyan, Ken, and others. There was no sign of Maria, though, and I suspected she’d gone directly after Tom Terror. Good for her. I wasn’t concerned about that now, though. Right now, I was only interested in the people before me.

  Whether they were heroes or villains on the surface, they were all here united in the protection of the locals. It was, for the first time, perhaps the only time, I’d ever done anything just for the sake of being the good guy. It felt good and I was sad I couldn’t be the hero that they needed. Not because I wasn’t able to try. It was the fact that I was a murderer and didn’t regret the lives I’d taken. There was too much hatred in my heart.

  But that didn’t matter that day.

  “Yeah, none of you guys have to fear P.H.A.N.T.O.M anymore. We’re going to get rid of them,” I said.

  It wasn’t the Saint Crispin’s Day Speech.

  It would do, though.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  TAKING A MOMENT TO FIGURE OUT MY NEXT MOVE

  So, I was made King of Nur’Ab’Sal.

  Apparently, they had some strange leadership traditions down in the Hollow Earth. Things like watery tarts throwing swords at you being the basis for their system of government, except it was Norse gods and spears. Maria had abandoned the place and left us to clean up the aftermath of P.H.A.N.T.O.M’s attack. I understood her logic. Organizing people getting pulled from wreckage and being healed of injuries would slow us down and prevent us from following her.

  I had to admit I was torn between my desire to go after her and my niece immediately and taking care of a lot of suffering people. I was really screwing up this supervillain thing. In the end, I decided to do the unthinkable and plan ahead. The city’s workers were caring for everyone; I was going to sit down and find out everything I could about P.H.A.N.T.O.M’s defenses and plot my next move. You know, after being distracted by something completely stupid.

  “You enter into the Tomb of Vecna and see that the walls are lined with granite statues of the one-eyed Lich God. All of them hold braziers burning with a sickly green fire and there is a sense of all-consuming evil about the place.”

  “I search for traps,” Jane said, shaking the twenty-sider in her hand a few times before tossing it on the stone table to the side of the throne room.

  The throne room was at the top of a ziggurat with a pair of stone thrones prominently displayed at the end. It looked a bit like a smaller version of the one at the end of Star Wars. I know, I use that for every one of my pop culture references, but it really did. There also wasn’t any sign of Princess Leia passing out medals to Han and Luke. Have you ever wondered why Chewie didn’t get a medal? I’ll tell you why. Racism. Think about that every time you watch that movie. The fact droids are slaves, too.

  Where was I? Oh yes, Diabloman, Jane, Case, John, and I were sitting around a stone table with a map in front of us of the Hollow Earth. We were supposed to be planning our attack on the Nazis, but it had somehow descended into a game of Dungeons and Dragons. Being criminals, we were playing for cash and stacks of gold coins were lined up on the edges of the table.

  Case, being the sanest one in the group, of course was the only one to question this activity while playing. “Gary, have you ever been diagnosed with ADD?”

  “My inability to concentrate on one task for more than a minute is a choice rather than a… wait, what was I talking about? That dice is really shiny!”

  Jane pulled out a laser pointer and moved it around the table.

  “Ah!” I said, covering my eyes. “No more.”

  “I use this to taunt the werecats in Bright Falls,” Jane said, cheerfully.

  Case sniggered before his expression turned serious. “I’m not going to be able to stay here, Gary.”

  “Well, of course we’re going to have to leave,” I said, simply. “As nice as Viking Atlantis is, it’s not a place I see myself staying for long. I mean, they don’t have the Internet, except on my phone, and that’s just no substitute when you’re a dedicated multiplayer—”

  “I mean back to my Earth,” Case said, frowning.

  I blinked. “I thought you hated it there.”

  “I do,” Case said, blinking. “I also got a call from my daughter.”

  “You have a daughter?” Jane asked, sounding more than a little offended. Clearly, Case hadn’t bothered to fill
her in on all of the details of his pre-tournament life.

  “Technically, the daughter of the psychotic paramilitary force leader I was cloned from,” Case said.

  “Only here does that make perfect sense,” Jane said. “Well here and Metal Gear Solid.”

  “How did you get a call?” I asked. “I mean, I thought my cellphone coverage was good but not interdimensional.”

  “There’s a lot of remote viewing devices here. Things that can look between parallel realities,” Case replied. “I decided to check in on the people I left behind. They think I’m in a coma since I’m being astrally projected here. I don’t want her standing over me forever.”

  Jane looked down. “Yeah, I kind of have to go as well. Time is passing differently there but my family is worried, too. It’s been about three days for me and they’re about ready to call an exorcist.”

  They both looked at each other, clearly more upset about leaving the other behind than this world.

  I looked between them. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  Jane looked down. “I love your daughters, Gary. I want to have a little deer herd just like them someday. That’s not going to happen if I don’t return to my body. Also, they’re in danger because of all this. One minute in a cute mansion, the next a war zone. You need to find a safe place for them.”

  “I don’t think either of your worlds are safe for them,” I said, getting the implication of what they thought I should do.

  “It might keep them alive,” Jane said. “Listen, we can arrange—”

  I raised my hands up in the air like I just didn’t care. “BEGONE!”

  Jane and Case didn’t have a moment to react before both blinked out of existence, returned to their bodies back on their respective Earths. Disrupting divine magic was surprisingly easy when you were the Chosen of the God who cast the spell.

  Diabloman looked up. “That was ill-advised.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’ve been encountering a lot of really nasty stuff, lately. Maybe it’s time that I start figuring out how to keep the people I love from it.”

  “The people you love who include a dedicated cyborg supersoldier and a weredeer shamaness who would have been very helpful during the upcoming fight against P.H.A.N.T.O.M,” John said, simply. “Smart.”

 

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