Double Lives (Johnny Wagner, Godlike PI Book One)

by Matt Cowper

  “Sorry to interrupt your little tête-à-tête, boys,” his voice said through the dozens of speakers in Netmaster’s cave, “but we got trouble out here.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Netmaster asked, swiveling towards the monitor.

  “A bunch of nasty-looking guvmint types. They got an armored carrier, a few Jeep XPs, and they look mighty agitated.”

  “Well, who are they?” Netmaster demanded. “What uniforms are they wearing? Do you see any emblems?”

  “They ain’t close enough yet.”

  “Your name is Big-Eyed Baldwin!” Netmaster yelled. “Use those big eyes!”

  “Don’t fuckin’ yell at me, you pasty little virgin,” Baldwin growled. “I’ll tell ya what I see when I see it…and I see it now. Yellow uniforms, a big swirly red logo on the carrier. Z City Department of Transportation, no doubt. Why the hell are they here? You been fucking around with the traffic light timing again, Netmaster?”

  “No, it’s more serious than that, apparently,” Netmaster said, turning to me, his face contorted in anger. “They must’ve tagged me with a tracer. I didn’t know the functionaries over there could defrag a hard drive, much less track my incursion. Sorry, Johnny.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I was the one who got you into this. That traffic video must be a hot piece of property; I think there’s more than just the Z City DOT involved here.”

  “Damien Woodruff?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” I said.

  “Hey, while you boys are chit-chatting,” Baldwin said, “I’m out here staring down about two dozen shock troops. How about activating those countermeasures you brag so much about? And send out Johnny, too. Since he brought the trouble to us, he needs to help clean it up.”

  “YES,” Dak said, his voice rocking the workstations. “Finally a worthy battle! Do not shrink away from this confrontation, John Wagner, or I will coat this entire city with the molten lava of my rage.”

  “I’m ready to rock, too, buddy,” I said, “but if I show my mug out there, we’ll end up in MegaMax. We may win this battle, but they’d get us eventually. A PI is too easy to find, and going underground like Baldwin and Netmaster wouldn’t suit me. I like fresh air too much.”

  “Weakling! Coward!” Dak roared. “Why must I suffer such a drought of suffering? It is too much for a god of my stature to take.”

  “Don’t worry, Johnny,” Netmaster said. “I’ve got just the thing.”

  He rose from his chair and walked over to a large metal locker in the corner. He typed a code into the glowing keypad, opened the door, and rummaged around. After a few seconds, he turned and tossed a hefty bundle to me.

  I recognized it instantly: my old Daring Destroyer costume.

  My mask was on top of the bundle. It was red with white eye patches, which looked simple enough, but Netmaster put enough tech in here to befuddle the most observant onlooker or the most advanced equipment. X-ray vision won’t penetrate the fabric, special filtering technology altered and muffled my voice, and the mask was tough enough to withstand all sorts of superhuman attacks. It made my identity extremely difficult to figure out. Someone would have to get close enough to physically remove the mask, and with my God Arm, I wasn’t going to let that happen.

  The costume itself looked like your basic superhero spandex, but again, Netmaster had added some perks. “Smart molecules” within the material regulated the temperature so you never got too hot or too cold. And of course, it was flame, acid, and laser resistant.

  I’d never liked the color scheme – fire-engine red with black gloves, boots, and trunks – but I’d reasoned that that was actually a good thing; if someone knew Johnny Wagner’s favorite color was navy blue, and then they saw the Daring Destroyer fighting crime in a navy blue costume, they might put two and two together. A minor precaution, but one could never be too careful.

  “I didn’t know you saved this,” I said, putting on the mask. It slipped right on like a second skin.

  “I saved everything from back then,” he said. “I know you don’t want to be on the wrong side of the law, but Baldwin can’t handle that many troops alone, and we need to evacuate the Net-Pad. If you guys don’t stall them, everyone in this building gets thrown in MegaMax.”

  “We’ll handle those lunkheads, don’t worry,” I said. “Just get to your secret tunnel or whatever escape routes you’ve got.”

  “Thanks, Johnny,” Netmaster said. “Here, take this.” He handed me a small oval-shaped device that looked like a turbo-charged hearing aid. “This is the same commlink Baldwin has. Attach it to your ear and we’ll be able to communicate.”

  I took the device and put it into my right ear. I could feel it tightening onto my skin, and there were some buzzes and beeps as the hardware loaded up. A thin piece of plastic extended to my mouth to serve as a microphone and, I guessed, a mini-camera, in case Netmaster wanted to watch the Daring Destroyer’s rebellious return to action.

  “You’re all set,” Netmaster said. “Go stick it to those government lapdogs. We’ll set off some fireworks before we leave, don’t worry.”

  “Have you changed your mind, John Wagner?” Dak rumbled. He was practically panting like a dog. “With our old costume concealing your true identity, and with you understanding how perilous this situation is, are we truly going to battle?”

  “We are,” I said. “As soon as I change into this spandex, we’re going out there.”

  I heard cracking rocks and thunderclaps, which meant Dak was gearing up for some large-scale devastation. “The Destroyer of Daringness returns! We caused much destruction in this guise, and we will cause much more destruction in a few short moments.”

  “You’re misremembering things, Dak,” I said. “I was a superhero, not a human wrecking ball.”

  “You are the one who has the faulty memory,” Dak said. “Heroes of the superhuman sort are very destructive. Did we not shatter bones and knock down walls on a nightly basis?”

  “You got a point there,” I muttered.

  “Anyway – I’ll contact you after things cool down,” Netmaster said. “Good luck out there.”

  “Luck? Luck is just a well-timed boost to skill,” I said. “Right, Dak?”

  “Indeed, I put no stock in luck. Luck does not save anyone or anything from the juggernaut of destruction that is Dakroth’gannith’formaz.”

  “Show me, don’t tell me,” I said.

  “You can be certain I will,” Dak rumbled.

  Chapter Five

  I stepped out onto the building’s landing, and immediately saw Big-Eyed Baldwin wasn’t exaggerating. An armored carrier was parked right in the middle of the street, two Jeep XPs with what looked like .89 caliber mini-guns mounted on them had run up onto the sidewalk, and about thirty soldiers covered in yellow armor had pulse rifles trained on us.

  Baldwin stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed, slowly surveying the scene. I walked down the steps and joined him. The concern I noticed on his computerized visage was gone; he looked as steely as one of the Elites facing down an inter-dimensional tapeworm.

  “Glad you could make it, Daring Destroyer,” Baldwin said, glancing at my mask. “I was just about to have a disagreement with these fellas.”

  “Dakroth’gannith’formaz stands with you, Baldwin With The Big Eyes,” Dak rumbled. “I must slake my thirst for destruction, and these bright yellow fools will serve as the equivalent of the boosted smoothies you humans love.”

  “You always put things so eloquently, Dak,” Baldwin said.

  “This suit feels great,” I said, stretching. My voice sounded strange, thanks to the mask’s technology. “Better than I remember.”

  “Wishin’ you’d stayed a superhero, then, so you could play dress up?” Baldwin asked with a grin.

  “Hell no,” I said, not too convincingly.

  The hatch on top of the armored carrier opened, and another yellow soldier leapt onto the carrier’s roof. He had some sort of triangle insignia on his le
ft breast, so I assumed he was the leader of this assault. He also had a megaphone, which he pointed dramatically at us.

  “You two!” he blasted out. “We are the Gridlock Grenadiers, the strike force of the Z City Department of Transportation! Someone within this building has hacked into our system and tampered with sensitive files, and we are here to apprehend them! We have this building surrounded! Put your hands behind your heads and surrender peacefully!”

  “There ain’t no hackers in this here building!” Baldwin yelled. “This is the Bootup Bingo Club! We meet up every night for some good ol’ fun! Why don’t ya’ll join us one evening? Mrs. Lorraine Baxter won fifty dollars last night!”

  “You lie, and you’re being sarcastic!” boomed the megaphone. “You’re – you’re a sarcastic liar!” He paused and nodded vigorously, apparently proud that he’d had the wherewithal to come up with that. “Grenadiers, arrest them!”

  A group of five banana-troops approached us. One of them had two sets of nullifier manacles, large metal handcuffs that negated a superhuman’s powers. They even worked on Dak, even though he was technically magical; I’d had those manacles slapped onto my hands once before, and I didn’t want to relive the experience.

  Baldwin turned to me, grinning. His sunglasses shimmered.

  “I bet you’ve always wondered why I’m called Big-Eyed Baldwin,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, “I have.”

  Baldwin chuckled. “Here’s why.”

  He removed his glasses, and a blinding beam of yellow light shot from his eyes. It hit the sidewalk where the five banana-troops were approaching, sending them flying and throwing chunks of concrete into the air.

  Baldwin then aimed at one of the Jeep XPs. Its driver and gunner wisely bailed, and the yellow beam blasted into the Jeep, causing it to explode. A wave of heat rolled to us, and I covered my face instinctively.

  “Gridlock Grenadiers, open fire!” boomed the megaphone guy. “Take them out, before –”

  Baldwin’s eye beam slammed into him, driving him into the abandoned brick building across the street. He fell to the ground, unconscious, the megaphone clattering from his hand.

  “This is unexpected,” Dak thought-spoke. “I did not know Baldwin With The Big Eyes was so destructive.”

  “You ain’t gonna let him hog all the action, are you?” I thought-spoke back.

  “No, I am not. I am going to summon primal beasts to rend these simpletons.”

  “In layman’s terms, please.”

  “Wolves, John Wagner. I am going to summon wolves.”

  I raised my arm, and five shadows dispersed from my palm. They landed on the sidewalk, and the smoky clouds started to form up into very familiar beasts – namely, wolves. Their eyes glowed red, and their shadow-bodies trailed wisps of smoke that smelled like charred corpses. All five let out bone-curdling howls, and then they pounced on the nearest Grenadiers, their black claws tearing through the armor like paper.

  “Nice one,” Baldwin said, sending another blast into the armored carrier. The carrier was made of stronger stuff than the soldiers and the Jeep XPs, though, and Baldwin was only able to knock it back a few feet.

  “Thanks,” I said. “We need to take cover, though.”

  We’d caught the Gridlock Grenadiers off guard with our onslaught, but they were rallying quickly enough. They’d realized the carrier was the best thing to hide behind, and all the troops not unconscious or maimed were running towards it. A few had started returning fire, and me and Baldwin danced around, dodging blasts from their pulse rifles.

  “Netmaster’s got that covered,” Baldwin said. “Give us some shields, man!”

  “On it,” Netmaster said through our commlinks.

  On cue, two translucent energy barriers appeared on the sidewalk in front of us. They stood about five feet tall, big enough for us to hide behind while still allowing us to return fire. We ducked behind them, and the pulse rifle blasts buzzed harmlessly into them.

  As I looked out at the blasting Grenadiers, I noticed some sort of design on the barriers: it appeared to be a string of middle fingers, along with some text. Since the text was backwards from my viewpoint, I had to reverse it in my mind: “GO TO HADES, SERVANTS OF THE ILLUMINATI.” I grinned – classic Netmaster.

  In the next second, giant lasers erupted from the Net-Pad, sending bricks and mortar sailing – more of Netmaster’s countermeasures. They started pounding the armored carrier and the pavement around it, but like Baldwin’s eye-beams, they only caused the carrier to slide around a few feet at the time.

  “I remember all this,” I said. “Pretty damn helpful when me and Felicia used to….”

  Dammit. Here I was in the middle of a firefight and I was thinking about my ex-girlfriend and ex-superhero partner.

  “What’s that?” Baldwin asked in between eye-beams.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Then get to fighting, man!” Baldwin yelled. “We’re safe behind here for now, but if they get someone up on that ion cannon, these barriers’ll shatter like glass!”

  I looked out at the armored carrier. Baldwin was right; the banana-troops kept climbing on top of it, trying to man the ion cannon, and Baldwin and the building-mounted lasers kept blasting them off. Their aim was good, but sooner or later they’d miss, or the Grenadiers would surge to the cannon all at once, lock onto us, and reduce us to free-floating molecules.

  I also didn’t see the shadow-wolves, but their carnage was easy to distinguish. I saw slashed armor, protruding bones, and blood dripping from gaping holes. I swallowed hard; I hoped no one died. If they did, the Daring Destroyer would be on the Superhuman Most Wanted List within the hour.

  “Dak,” I thought-spoke, “have you killed anyone yet?”

  “No, unfortunately my wolves were slain before they licked the life-blood from a single soldier. But I can summon more.”

  “No, don’t!” I yelled. “I mean, let’s try something else. How about…how about an ice blast?”

  “We have done ice already today, and you used my powers to simply freeze the hands of those bank robbers. That was ill done.”

  “OK, then let’s—”

  “You gonna do something, man,” Baldwin yelled, “or are you going to let these chumps get to that cannon?”

  “Sorry, Baldwin,” I said. “I just need to…wait, I’ve got an idea.”

  “Dak, can you create a small-scale earthquake?” I asked in think-speak. “Just enough to send that carrier down into the caverns beneath the city?”

  “That is well within my power, but you will need to strike the ground around the carrier itself.”

  I looked through the barrier. Pulse rifle shots were still colliding with it, and Baldwin and the building lasers were still blasting away. If I ran out into that maelstrom, I wouldn’t make it ten feet before getting killed.

  But maybe if I flew in….

  “Baldwin, I’ve got a plan,” I said, “but I need to get near that carrier!”

  “You lost your damn mind?” Baldwin yelled, looking at me with glowing yellow eyes.

  I crab-walked over to him. “They won’t anticipate an aerial assault. I just need someone to launch me.”

  Baldwin stared at me. “You want me to—”

  “Yup.”

  Baldwin crouched down and aimed his peepers up at me.

  “Hope you got a barf bag handy,” he said, “and a tourniquet.”

  Then the beam hit me. It was a much weaker beam than he’d been using on the Grenadiers, but it still stung. I was launched into the air towards the carrier, wind whistling in my ears – and in a split-second I was falling earthward again, about to land right by a huddled group of Grenadiers, who were already training their rifles on me.

  “Dak, you ready?” I thought-spoke.

  “I am. Strike the ground and send these yellow men and their pathetic metal box to oblivion.”

  I landed hard, my knees rattling like they were going to break off. I brought my God Ar
m down in one motion and pounded the pavement. I could feel the immense strength within the arm cascading through the concrete. There was an ear-splitting crack, and the whole earth seemed to tilt in front of me. I heard a voice behind me.

  “Grab my hand!” It was Baldwin.

  I turned and tried to run towards him, but the ground was crumbling beneath my feet. With a grunt, I bent my knees and leapt upwards, grabbing Baldwin’s hand in mid-air. He yanked me to him, and we collided and landed on the pavement in a heap.

  “It is done,” Dak rumbled. “We have sent our enemies to a subterranean world that is surely hellish. I am pleased.”

  I looked behind me, and saw a giant hole in the middle of the street. Its gaping maw had swallowed the armored carrier and all the Gridlock Grenadiers. Chunks of concrete and earth dribbled from the sides into the depths, along with rancid muck from a sewer line.

  In reality, those DOT soldiers hadn’t plunged to a hellish subterranean world, but only to the caverns beneath Z City. Then again, I had heard some strange stories about the caverns. Whatever – as long as Dak was happy with himself.

  “Good work, you two,” Baldwin said. “Stickin’ it to The Man, gotta love it.”

  “Thanks,” I said, “but I don’t feel like cheering. The DOT or whoever is pulling their strings found Netmaster within minutes of his hack.”

  “Yeah, that’s mighty unsettling,” Baldwin said. “Whoever traced him was damn good.”

  “Good or not,” Netmaster said through the commlinks, “you can fuckin’ believe I’m going to find out who it was.”

  “Are you guys clear?” Baldwin asked.

  “We’re gone,” Netmaster replied, “but the troops on the other side of the building are coming your way. You better hightail it. And drop the comms; I’ll destroy them remotely.”

  “Run?” Dak rumbled. “No, we shall not flee, not when—”

  “Yeah, we are, Dak,” I said. I touched my commlink, and it loosened up and retracted the microphone, almost like it could read my mind. I pulled it off and tossed it to the ground. “We stay here, we’ll get overwhelmed eventually. We might be able to take out a few dozen more of those monkeys, but sooner or later someone’ll send in the heavy hitters.”