I drained a bit of energy from the building around me, then waved my hand in front of her face. “These aren’t the heroes you’re looking for.”
“These aren’t the heroes I’m looking for,” Starlight Maiden said, glassy-eyed. “Wait, that’s from Star Wars! I think! My father won’t let me watch it. He says it’s too violent.”
“Just when I thought I couldn’t hate Other Gary more,” I muttered.
Amanda used that opportunity to hit her with two more bolts of lightning, then punched her into the bank teller booths.
“Dammit,” I said, looking at my hand. “I should have used more juice. Rey made that seem so easy in The Force Awakens. Wait, I’ve been gone five years. Was the rest of the trilogy any good?”
“You also missed the tie-in films,” Amanda said.
“Nooooooooo!” I shouted. “That’s impossible!”
Shadowman charged at me for a third time, this time becoming a liquid blob of a hundred mouths and eyes with dozens of tentacles covered in spikes. I didn’t turn to face him, just snapped my fingers and froze him in a block of ice with the power of the building around me.
For some reason, I couldn’t draw much power from the building, but I could draw a little. Other Gary was smarter than I’d realized and had somehow created wards against me. He couldn’t block me out entirely, but it was like the place was password protected. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
Looking around, I saw that Cindy, Diabloman, and the New Guy had smashed up Mechanko’s robot bodies good. Mandy, meanwhile, was finishing off Ninjess, having sunk her fangs into her neck and drained her of most of her blood. She proceeded to drop the last of the Extreme’s corpse on the ground, a satisfied look on her face.
“We should find a hotel, Gary,” Mandy said. “I feel good.”
In many ways, it seemed. With nothing to stop her, Amanda ran across the room and proceeded to wrap her arms around the New Guy before kissing him passionately. I exchanged a look with Cindy and Diabloman and shrugged.
Amanda pulled away. “This is Mister Inventor, Gary! Galahad Warren.”
“What?” Cloak said. “Galahad Warren?”
“You have a grandson I’ve never heard of?” I asked Cloak. “You dog.”
“No, Gary, I never procreated after my slain family. There were rumors my brother had another grandson who was a superhero in New Bourbon, or Sunlight had a child, but we always discounted it.”
“Please tell me it’s not because he’s black,” I said.
“That’s not why!” Cloak said. “It might be why my brother didn’t invite him to visit, though.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Cloak.” I shook my head. “You’ll need to talk with this guy at length.”
I had, in fact, heard of Mister Inventor even if I’d never heard of Galahad Warren. The superhero and supervillain world wasn’t such a large fraternity (and sorority—which I suppose would make it a college) that you couldn’t name A-listers and B-listers if you were a fan. Mister Inventor was solidly a B-lister who had always seemed more interested in using super-science to improve people’s lives than engaging in pointless fights against superpowered criminals.
Dumbass.
“Well, I think Amanda knows him,” I said, watching Amanda continuing to kiss Mister Inventor.
“They used to be involved before Other Gary’s takeover,” Cindy said. “Technically, he’s dating me now.”
I kept watching them kiss. “I think that relationship may be over. Well, maybe not, depending on what you’re into.”
“Eh, I doubt they’re flexible that way,” Cindy said. “I guess that will just go into my other relationships like the five rap stars, two supervillainesses, and Tom Hiddleston.”
“Tom Hiddleston?” I asked. “Really?”
“Jealous?” Mandy asked.
“Yes, but I’m not sure of who,” I said.
That was when Diabloman ran over and wrapped me up in a crippling bear hug.
“Ooomph,” I said, trying to speak but failing.
“I am so glad to see that you’re alive,” Diabloman said, lifting me up. It was strange how healthy and strong he looked compared to the past-his-prime wreck he’d been earlier
“Mmmph,” I said, choking.
“Oh sorry,” Diabloman said, letting me drop on the ground. “I don’t know my own strength anymore.”
“Glad you’re feeling better,” I said, climbing to my feet.
“I’m not,” Diabloman said. “This is an astral projection. My actual body cannot move on its own power anymore.”
I blinked. “Oh . . . well, that sucks.”
Diabloman shrugged. “I am a warrior. I’m honored to have the privilege of continuing to fight the good fight for a little while longer. It was my truest goal these past five years to die avenging your disappearance.”
I tried to figure that out. “Either you’re a doing a really good job of honoring me or a very bad one.”
Diabloman let out a hearty laugh. “Come with us. We must get out of here. There is something back at our headquarters you must see.”
“We can’t,” I said, shaking my hands. “We need to figure out how to harness the magic here to beat Other Gary. Then I—”
Cindy stared at me. “Gary, you really, really need to come with us now.”
I blinked and looked at her sideways. There was something about her demeanor that spoke to me. I also took a moment to look at how my favorite henchwench had changed in the past five years. Honestly, she didn’t look that different.
Good genetics or whatever super-science medical advances Other Gary was peddling had her even more beautiful at thirty-five than she had been in her twenties. Granted, that included a period with a serious drug problem, so it wasn’t saying much, but she seemed to possess a maturity and concern that hadn’t been there before. It surprised me.
“Not all people are content to live their lives in a perpetual adolescence,” Cloak said.
“I tried the nine-to-five thing. It resulted in a soul-crushing job, broken family life, and a devastating sense of worthlessness. I’m living the Fight Club dream now,” I projected at Cloak.
“Didn’t Fight Club end with him killing his alternate self so he could enjoy a stable life with his girlfriend?”
I paused, then said aloud, “We’re not living Fight Club.”
Any choice I might have had was interrupted by a quartet of gigantic robots landing outside the front door of the Merciful building. They were accompanied by a hundred police cars, several SWAT team vans, and what looked like teleporting-in Foundation for World Harmony power-armored soldiers.
“Yes, now is probably a time to go,” I muttered.
That was when Mandy grabbed me by the shoulder and dragged me to the weird tunneling machine that my friends had arrived in. The rest of the group piled in as well, making a snug fit, but not so much that I felt we were going to run out of air or anything. Other Gary’s defenses also worked in our favor, as they kept his private army from breaking through the doors before we started tunneling into the earth.
Everyone breathed out a sigh of relief except me and Mandy. Me, because I wasn’t at all happy about escaping Other Gary’s home base without figuring out a way to harness his power. Mandy because, well, she didn’t breathe.
But it established one thing for me.
My henchmen were terrified of my doppelgänger.
That changed things. So did the answer to my next question. “So, what is that thing you wanted to show me?”
“Uh,” Cindy said. “It’s not a thing. It’s . . . well . . .”
Diabloman finished for her. “Your daughter.”
Chapter Eight
WHERE MY BRAIN SHUTS DOWN FOR A BIT
I stared forward, a blank expression on my face. Everything was a confusing mass of questions and sheer shock at Cindy’s revelation.
Mandy gave me a dope slap to the back of the head.
“Ow!” I snapped. “What the
hell was that for? I was taking a second to process that!”
“That was twenty minutes ago!” Mandy gestured to the transparent steel windows. We were still travelling through hard rock underneath Falconcrest City.
“Oh, wow,” I said, looking around. “Where are we going, Zion?”
“Close enough,” Galahad Warren said. “We have an underground base that was formerly owned by the Groundhog. It’s got a fascinating story behind it.”
“Yeah, I don’t care,” I said, turning back to Cindy. “My child? I have a child? How did this happen?”
Cindy stared at me, then raised one eyebrow.
“Ah, yes,” I said, taking a deep breath. “The usual way.”
“I considered being part of a class action lawsuit against the company that manufactured my birth control, but given that I thought you were dead and was having little Gizmo as something to remember you by, I figured that would be awkward when she was an adult,” Cindy said before smiling. “She’s an adorable—”
“Wait, hold up,” I interrupted. “Gizmo?”
“It’s better than Mindy or Gabriel,” Cindy said.
“I’m not sure it is,” I said, horrified. “You named her after the fuzzy thing in Gremlins?”
“Mogwai,” Cindy said. “Well, it was six months after she was born and she needed a name. Then I saw her building some robots and figured, oh, isn’t that cute! She’s working with gizmos, so it’s an appropriate name! Also, she’s a real monster if you feed her after midnight.”
“You didn’t name her for six months?” Mandy interjected, appalled. She was handling this well, by which I meant she hadn’t killed me or Cindy.
Yet.
“Technically, the name on her birth certificate is Leia Buffy Ripley Wakowski Karkofsky,” Mister Inventor said, interjecting into a conversation where he was deeply not wanted.
I stared at him. “This just keeps getting worse and worse.”
“Well, I hate my mother, my grandmother, and your mother, and Mandy is my only female friend who isn’t evil,” Cindy said. “I’m not good at deciding these things. Besides, you weren’t exactly here to help.”
That was like a stab in the gut and I crossed my arms over my stomach. I’d wanted kids since before I’d gotten married. Family was one of the few things that made me feel normal, and I mean that in a “normal as good” way rather than the “banality of evil” way I usually did. I didn’t need to be a supervillain when I had family and they made me feel good about myself for their presence. The fact that I had missed the first five years of my daughter’s life, which would make her—what—four?
God.
“I’m sorry,” Cindy said, reaching over and placing her hand on my shoulder. “But Gizmo is a beautiful, healthy, happy, super-intelligent telepathic little girl. Galahad, Kerri, and Diabloman have been great parents to her.”
“Wait, you didn’t raise her?” I asked, casting her a sideways glance.
“Well, I was physically present,” Cindy said, waving her right hand in front of her. “I’ve also served as her doctor! Lots and lots of shots. People who don’t vaccinate their kids are jackasses. It’s just that I’m not really into that touchy-feely, emotional stuff. Like hugging.”
I covered my face with my palm and shook my head. “Dear Lord.”
“He’s probably happy about it,” Cindy said. “The fact the father of my child is also Jewish is literally the only thing I’ve done right per my grandmother. Are you sure you’re not an adopted Gentile, Gary? That would please me greatly.”
“Take comfort from the fact that the father of your child was married to another woman,” Mandy said, shaking her head.
“There is that,” Cindy said.
Mandy and I had one disagreement before I’d become a supervillain and everything had become overwhelmed by crazy. Basically, Mandy hadn’t wanted kids. I was really interested in raising the next generation; she was not. Nothing wrong with that, but it was severely awkward, and neither of us had changed our opinions on the subject in the five years we’d been married. Now ten. Wait—wow, had it really been that long? I was getting old.
“Actually, most superheroes are several decades old but all look like twentysomethings. It’s similar with supervillains,” Cloak said.
“Wait, really?” I asked.
“Yes,” Cloak said. “Even younger ones like the building-climbing and street-swinging Ink Spot are well into their middle years. You, for example, Gary, still look like you’re in your mid-to-late twenties.”
“OK, that’s just weird. What’s that about?” I asked, allowing myself to get distracted.
“No idea,” Cloak said. “I’m annoyed because I was fine right up until I grew old and died.”
“Superhuman time,” I said. “Who knew.”
“It seems like something we should have investigated, but we never got around to it,” Cloak said.
“Gary?” Mandy asked. “You went off into your own little world again.”
“Oh!” I said, blinking. “I did, didn’t I? Listen, Mandy—”
“I don’t care,” Mandy said.
“Err, what?” I said.
“Yeah, that’s an awful reaction!” Cindy said. “You know, unless you intend to rip out our throats and devour our precious bodily fluids. In which case not caring is an incredibly good reaction!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind devouring your fluids,” Mandy said, smiling.
Cindy’s eyes widened. It was an expression torn between embarrassment, fear, and curiosity.
“I’ve lived through two previous timelines with you two,” Mandy said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve had kids with Cindy before. Which one is this, the really smart one or the creepy little girl who makes zombies?”
“The smart one,” Cindy said.
“Ah, good,” Mandy said. “I liked her. You also had a boy with Gabrielle in the timeline where she lived.”
“You cheating bastard!” Cindy said, horrified.
“I’m not!” I said, horrified.
“Eh, better Cindy than me,” Mandy said. “I’m not a big fan of the motherhood thing.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Amanda muttered, looking more disgusted by the second. “Could we be anywhere else but in this cramped space? I really don’t want to be here for however long it takes them to stop discussing their sex life.”
“I’m afraid that’s probably not going to happen,” Galahad said. “It’s like ninety percent of what Cindy discusses. The remaining ten percent being divided between drugs and medical advances.”
“I discuss other stuff! Sometimes!” Cindy said.
Mandy rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Guys, I’m two hundred years old. I’ve lived with you through two incarnations of the universe. I know you love each other. I also know I can’t and won’t be having Gary’s children. So, it’s an easy fix.”
I stared at her. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a normal reaction.”
“Well, I intend to keep you both as my blood-addicted slaves and food sources as repayment,” Mandy replied.
Both of us stared at her.
“You’re waiting for an ‘I’m kidding’, aren’t you?” Mandy said.
“Just a little,” I said.
“It’s not 1953,” Mandy said. “We’ll work this out. Even if I know Gary isn’t into the whole French thing.”
“Is there any way to make this thing go faster?” Amanda said, pushing a button on the side of the door repeatedly as if we were trapped in an elevator.
“Please don’t do that,” Galahad said.
“Why, is it bad?” Amanda asked.
“Yes.” Galahad nodded. “That’s the AC controls.”
I tried to figure out how to respond. “I love you both. I do. It’s just I don’t want to end up like Fleetwood Mac.”
“Are you Stevie Nicks or Mic Fleetwood?” Diabloman asked.
Everyone looked at him.
“What? I listen to music,” Diabloman said. “It’s the first time I’ve
gotten a reference from you people.”
“I just want Gary to be there in my daughter’s life,” Cindy said. “I can deal with everything else. I certainly don’t want to interrupt your marriage.”
“We were in a suburban underground prison camp,” I said. “If our marriage survived that, it’ll survive this.”
“So, you had a child with Cindy while I was dead,” Mandy said. “Anything else you were up to that past year other than trying to resurrect me?”
“I robbed the Star King’s palace of the Celestial Jewel, I blew up an Exterminator processing plant with the Tomorrow Society, I participated in a couple of crossover events where heroes tried to beat me up before realizing we were on the same side, and I grew a beard of sorrow that made me look like an Evil Obi-Wan Kenobi.” I paused. “I was also briefly a member of the Black-Eyed Peas.”
Mandy blinked. “That last part is the only one I disbelieve because I know how badly you sing.”
“Auto-Tune,” I said, making finger guns. “It’s a musician’s best friend.”
“Speaking as a musician,” Mandy said, “I would disagree.”
“A crappy musician’s best friend,” I corrected. “But no, Mandy. No force on Earth could get me to leave you . . . or my family.”
Mandy smiled. Cindy hugged me.
I hugged back.
“Are we there yet?” Amanda asked.
“Thirty more minutes,” Galahad said. “I should probably be in this conversation?”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“I kind of raised your daughter,” Galahad said. “So much so that I consider her my daughter too.”
I paused. “In the spirit of trying to be reasonable while my evil doppelgänger rules the city above us, I’ll try and not murder you for that.”
“You’re welcome,” Galahad said.
“I can’t wait for you to meet her,” Cindy said, her voice full of a pride I never expected her to have. “She’s amazing.”
“You said she’s a Super?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around that. “It’s not surprising, I guess. Kerri and Lisa are both Supers, so I know my family carries the gene.”
“Yup!” Cindy explained. “Super-intelligence, telepathy, and telekinesis. She can read minds from a hundred feet away.”
The Supervillainy Saga (Book 4): The Science of Supervillainy Page 7
