Dire : Wars (The Dire Saga Book 4)

by Andrew Seiple

  The Barrio del Ingles had the most empty buildings available. Some of them were designated historic sites, but I didn’t particularly care. I needed to remind people that I was the villain, anyway. Was being too nice again, had to watch that. I set the wormlike bots to their task of reclaiming the buildings and creating what I needed.

  After some thought, I contacted Ricio and got him to run out squatters and set guards over the buildings. No sense in having someone wander in and panic while my little crafters were doing their jobs.

  The thought plagued me, as I headed back to my suite; I was being entirely too nice. It didn’t help that the people were receptive to my attitude. Corazon had been a proper Cold War monster, hated and despised after decades of disillusioning and preying upon his people. Me? I talked funny and looked scary, but it wasn’t quite enough. I wasn’t used to people just ‘rolling with it’, so to speak. I was used to loud confrontations with heroes who didn’t listen, desperate struggles to declare my intentions between piston-backed punches, and desperate last minute gambits undoing my hard work.

  This was new.

  Once back in my bedroom I decanted from the armor, groaning as I had to bend my bruised side to wiggle out. “Alpha?” I asked.

  “Yeah?” he materialized on the dresser. “Can we talk about the sniper now?”

  “No. Listen—”

  “Come on, this is the second time I've asked you to—”

  What was he talking about? Whatever. “Forget the sniper,” whoever that was. “Listen, this is weird.”

  “You're going to have to be more specific.”

  “People like her, here. This could be a problem.”

  “Is it?”

  I shucked out of the interface suit, shedding pounds of rubberized cloth as I pulled on a bathrobe. “Yes. She didn’t plan to be doing this, but... well, it feels right. It’s coming naturally. And that’s not conducive to her long-term plans. Not going to result in the best outcome for this place unless she manages to tone that down.”

  “You know, you haven’t come through on your part of the bargain yet. You promised to dish on your sinister master plan if I embodied.”

  “Monologue time?” I grinned. “Ooooh, she rarely gets people wanting those. You sure you want the full villainous details?”

  “Well,” a strange voice said from above and behind me, “if he doesn’t, then I do.”

  I whirled, just as a man dropped from the shadows of the arched ceiling, and straightened up. The rapier in his hand glittered, as he rested its tip oh-so-gently against my throat.

  “Hola, Empress. I think we should talk now.”

  CHAPTER 9: HEROES AND HALF-MEASURES

  “I really, really don’t wanna talk about it, dude.”

  --The rogue metahuman, tentatively identified as Timetripper, caught on phone camera in a Cuban restaurant

  He was dressed in royal, dark purple, with gold trimmings. A black cape draped over his back, and the purple wound down to black as it went down his body. It wasn’t spandex, but his costume clung tight upon him, and I couldn’t help but notice the muscles that filled his thin frame. Forcing my eyes back up to his mask, I found black goggles framed by golden question marks... the one on the left reversed, so that they both cupped the eye sockets. His full-face mask stopped at the top of his head, revealing wiry hair cropped short.

  I recognized him from the files, and relaxed.

  Alpha didn’t. “How the hell did you get in here? Gah! I hate being stuck with human senses!”

  I flicked a finger at him. “Easy, Alpha.”

  “Easy?” He turned to glare at the hero. “You idiot, do you know what’ll happen if you kill her?” The little hologram marched up to him, and the figure shifted.

  “No further, projection. And I’ve not come to kill anyone tonight. Assuming your master here does not succumb to stupidity, of course.”

  I grinned. “Why should she? You are Señor Acertijo, otherwise known as Mister Riddle. Yes?”

  “You have somewhat of an advantage on me.”

  “You are a hero. And you are famous for never taking a life.” Slowly, I reached up a hand, index finger extended. Even more slowly I brought it to the dull part of the blade, and tried to push it. It didn’t budge, as Acertijo held it steady.

  “I am no hero. And you are a murderer. Do not count on my presumed pacifism, oh Empress-for-life.”

  “Yeah. And don’t count on getting out of here if you kill her,” Alpha said, pointing at the armor. “Her life signs drop to zero or she says the right word, and the armor activates. It’ll come after you until you’re dead or worse.”

  “Worse than death?” He tilted his head. “I’m curious to know what it can do, now.”

  “Don’t be,” I advised. “So, did you have a reason for spying on Dire’s naked time or were you just in the neighborhood for some perverted voyeurism?”

  His shoulders squared, and the blade twitched at my throat. “A necessary disadvantage to my hiding place. I apologize. I did not mean to peep.”

  “You are forgiven.” I shrugged, adjusting my bathrobe. “Look. You came here for a talk, yes?”

  “Sí, señora.”

  “She’s dog tired at the minute. Going to go take a bath. Come along and we’ll talk, and afterward you can leave. She’ll even give you a five minute head start.”

  “Four more minutes than I’ll need.” He pulled the rapier back, but kept it in his hand as he half-bowed, and pointed the way to the bathroom. “After you, please.”

  I slipped into the jacuzzi with a sigh, favoring my un-battered side, and set the water to bubble. Ah, this was heavenly.

  I glanced over to the hero, and found him scrupulously looking away. I snorted, turned the bubbles up to high, and poured in some foamy bath salts. “You can look now,” I advised after half a minute. I’d spent months living with the Chamis, modesty really wasn’t a thing for me right now.

  “Where to begin?” he mused.

  “You’re probably rather upset about Corazon,” I said, lathering my arms. “It being your life’s work to overthrow him, of course. And here she did it in under ten minutes.”

  The rapier sang as he tapped the blade on the railings of the hot tub. “That I did not mind so much. But you failed to anticipate the greater problem when you killed him.”

  “She didn’t kill him. It was...” I closed my eyes. “The sniper. Why in the hells has she not been concerned about the sniper? Alpha?”

  “Boss?” He flickered into existence.

  “Why haven’t you reminded Dire of that invisible sniper?”

  “I try to. Every time you wave it off and shrug, and say you’ve got other concerns.”

  “Nonsense! That’s...” I rummaged through my memory. No, it wasn’t nonsense. I remembered him talking with me, and I remembered every time he tried, my attention shifted elsewhere or the matters at hand suddenly got a lot more important.

  Twice before he’d tried.

  “Alpha, we’re dealing with powers, here. And it’s looking like a Somebody-Else’s Problem field.”

  “You have read Douglas Adams?” Acertijo sat up.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Of course! You get the reference then.”

  “I don’t,” Alpha said, folding his arms. “Want to enlighten me?”

  Acertijo waved a hand. “It is simple, little goblin—”

  “Hey!”

  “—A science fiction concept to hide disturbing things such as spaceships, when you want to land them around the natives. You simply put up something so incongruous that the viewer’s eyes refuse to accept the spaceship as existing.”

  “And so their minds work around it, and the natives convince themselves that they couldn’t possibly be seeing such a thing. It’s somebody else’s problem,” I finished. “Probably not exactly the way the power or device or magic or whatever works, but with similar effects.” I blew bubble froth off my shoulder. “Alpha, when we’re done here remind Dire to coordinate with Suru for
a full-footage review of Corazon’s death. We’ll need to find a way around that field. Corazon was shot for a reason, and until we figure that out we’ll more than likely hit this problem again.”

  “This is an interesting story, but do you have any proof of it?” Acertijo asked.

  “Proof?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why would she need proof? She doesn’t care. She wanted Corazon alive for further humiliation and a very public trial for his war crimes, but when somebody popped him? Whatever. No skin off her nose.” I snorted, and submerged a few more inches of me into the lovely water. “But if proof does matter to you... Alpha, play him the video feed from her helmet cams. They should show the alarms and damage from the sniper rounds that hit her mask.”

  “You were targeted as well?” Acertijo asked.

  “Yes. And she’s not sure why, now that she thinks of it.” I frowned. The whole thing got fishier the more I poked at it. “Someone took a risk to kill him. Why? And why try to finish off Dire at the same time?”

  “You realize your motive is all around you. You took his throne through conquest.”

  “That was actually a last-minute improvisation. Had planned to pack up after handing Corazon off to the Brazilians, and get out of town. Let the revolutionaries and the military sort the whole thing out.” I grimaced. “Couldn’t do that after he died.”

  “So why are you still here?” Alpha burst out.

  “I second the imp’s question—”

  “Hey!”

  “—I do not see any way for your... reign... to do anything but end in tears.”

  I smiled, looking at the far wall, and remembering a very different time in a much colder land. Blood on the snow, a cold black ocean, and old friends dying. It was easier to smile than to cry.

  “Forty years, hasn’t it been?” I said, glancing over to Acertijo once I’d mastered my emotions.

  “Give or take,” he said, sitting on the edge of the tub, one leg crossed on his knee and the sword balanced on his thigh.

  “Since what? Oh wait, Corazon’s takeover,” Alpha slapped his head.

  “Shush. Forty years, this place has known Corazon. El Presidente has quashed every rebellion, stilled every riot, stood the test of time.” I shook my head. “But the one time a supervillain gets her hands on him, he’s killed in an instant by forces unknown.” I kept my eyes steady on Acertijo’s mask. “There’s something more here, keeping this place miserable. Keeping these people oppressed, keeping the poor impoverished and the rich wealthy.” I smiled, and there was no humor in my grin. “So what do you think that unknown force, that unseen conspiracy is doing, now that this crazy supervillain decided to set up shop and elevate herself to Corazon’s old job?”

  A breath behind the mask. “Interesting. Tell me more, I implore you.”

  He really did have a nice voice, even muffled as it was. Smooth and deep. Combined with those muscles, he was a big old scoop of yum.

  Ah, why did the cute ones always have to be heroes?

  “Not much more to tell,” I said. “The plan’s a work in progress. She very much wants to set things up so that the island’s in a better state than when she found it, and so she’s playing it by ear and seeing what comes. She’s going to make noise and be unpredictable until the powers-that-be come knocking. Then she’s going to see who needs particle beams to the face, and who needs to end up on top.” I flicked bubbles off my knee. “This current job... not one that she’s going to be doing forever, or even for very long. If nothing else, the United States won’t stand for it.” I sighed. “Be very big problems for everyone if they get involved. Fortunately she thinks she can have this wrapped up before then. It’ll take time for them to move, and she’ll be gone before they can use her as a casus belli.”

  “Less time than you think, maybe,” Alpha said.

  “Oh?”

  “It’s an election year in the United States. The current American President has been getting flack all year from the Republicans about being soft on terrorists and foreign agitators. Especially after that tower attack a few years back.”

  “But they stopped that one.” I frowned. “Didn’t even need to call in heroes, it was a triumph in the intelligence community.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t invade the country that was probably behind it, and they ripped him a new one in the polls for it.”

  I snorted. “The US doesn’t get involved in the Middle East for once, and the public hates that. What a special kind of stupid.”

  “The point being,” Acertijo said, “your new career is presenting the American President with the perfect opportunity to show his strength.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do not mention it, elf.”

  “Hey!”

  “But the more important question comes, why are you doing this?” Acertijo leaned in, until his mask was a foot from my face, and I could just make out his eyes behind it. “Assuming you have told me the truth, you are putting yourself at risk for a country that is not your own, making of yourself a target to forces known and unknown. Why? Is it the money? The power?”

  A fierce knocking came from a few rooms over. We both tensed, glanced away towards the front office. “Alpha?” I asked.

  “On it.” He flickered out, and back in after a minute. “The palace guards. They found a few of their men knocked unconscious, with golden question mark tags sprayed on the wall nearby.” He glared at Acertijo. “Nice job, hero.”

  “I had to move quickly.”

  “You tagged them?” I snorted in disbelief.

  “I am Señor Acertijo! Not some common back-alley thug.” Aggrieved, he fluttered his hand at me, and then out towards my armor. “You wear the mask, surely you understand.”

  Actually, I did. And I respected him a little more for it. “Alpha, go tell them we’re secure in here, and the Empress is resting and does not wish to be disturbed.”

  “If you’re sure, boss.”

  “She is.”

  “Now then,” I said, tapping him Acetijo on the goggles to get his attention. “You asked a question that deserves an answer.”

  “Yes.” His eyes caught mine again, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.

  “She isn’t doing it for the money, or the power. She’s doing it because she’s come to love some of the people here, and is disgusted by the raw deal that they got.” I breathed in, and crossed my arms on the edge of the tub, resting my breasts upon them. “More importantly, she’s doing this because this society is not working properly. It’s flawed, and wasteful, and ultimately harmful to its members. Many nations on this world are the same, Mariposa’s not unique there. But right here and right now? It’s a mess, and she can do something about that. So to simply have let Corazon’s body fall and fly away? It would have been the act of a coward, and Dire knows no fear. Not in this.” I snarled.

  “How noble of you. To come and show us backwards pendejos the one true way—”

  “Shut up!” I barked. “You think her act one of smug superiority? Bah! She can’t take you to perfection. She hasn’t starved as Mariposa’s beggars have, or been tortured like Corazon’s prisoners have, or been raped like Corazon’s victims have. Her life, for all that it’s been messy and horrible in parts, has been easy compared to that of many down here. She knows this. She doesn’t presume to feel your pain, or steal your struggle, or call herself superior.” I took a breath. “Mariposa is your fight. Yours and its people’s. But right here and right now she’s in a position to do something positive about it, and by gods she will take that chance. And she will succeed, for she is Dire, and failure is not an option.”

  “And afterwards? After you have gone? After you’re on to the next thing, or plot, or whatever it is you do? What of Mariposa then?” He rasped the words out, his voice raw with emotion.

  “That’s up to you.” I reached out, and he stepped back. I stopped and he stopped. Slowly I reached out again and patted his mask, leaving soapy bubbles behind. “You brave men and women, you who w
ere born of this land, you get to decide what happens afterward. She will shed blood, sweat, and tears to help you get there, but after she’s done her part, it’s up to you.” I smiled, softly. “Learned this lesson the hard way. Villains are great at fear, but hope? That’s up to heroes. Not the way it should be but that’s how it is.”

  I pulled my arm back, and began the process of easing out of the tub. He turned aside again, as I dried myself, and wound the bathrobe back around my frame.

  “How the hell are you a villain?” he asked, glancing at me in the mirror once I was clothed again.

  “The same way you’re a hero.”

  “I’m no hero.”

  “And she’s not exactly a villain.” I shrugged. “Our respective societies see that differently, however. So here we are.” I searched for the hairbrush, started in on my hair. “So, what are you going to do now— ” I was alone in the bathroom. I poked my head outside, but I was also alone in the suite.

  How the heck had he done that?

  I chalked it down to ‘heroes are sometimes bullshit,’ and summoned Alpha back. Time to track down that sniper.

  It was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life, focusing on that assassin. Every time we started to make progress, my mind would wander, and it would take a few seconds to realize that Alpha was literally jumping up and down on my head, yelling at me. Even knowing that it was some sort of mental influence, getting angry about it, didn’t seem to help.

  Finally, through much struggle, heartache, and a solid hour’s work, we had a blurry image pumped up via magnification, captured when they first told me to look out for the sniper. It didn’t reveal much... a red and white outfit, the barrel of an anti-materiel rifle, and a flash of something which could have been flesh near the barrel. A half-face mask? Maybe. Even trying to puzzle that out made me forget what I was doing.

  But it didn’t work on Alpha. He swore up and down that he had details, he had suspicions, and every time he tried to tell me about them I’d zone out.