Double Lives (Johnny Wagner, Godlike PI Book One)

by Matt Cowper

  “My name’s Deathrain,” someone said, “not ‘that woman.’” Everyone turned, and the assassin stepped out of the darkness, looking hale and hearty. She crossed her arms and stared at Felicia through the slits in her leather mask.

  “What happened?” I said. “Are you—”

  “Where were you?” Dak said, his characteristic rumble low. “Did this beast torture you while we were battling?”

  “You mean torture me more?” Deathrain said. “No, I was just wrapped up in some sort of coil and thrown by the wall. I’m fine now.” Her eyes remained fixed on Felicia. “I’m guessing there was nanotech in that shit Befouler shot into me. When you popped that EDE thing, they shut down, and my healing factor was able to flush everything out before they went back online.”

  “That is correct,” Befouler said, frowning. “A mistake on my part. Nanotech is so useful, one comes to rely on it overmuch.”

  “Complacency always has a price.” A knife appeared in Deathrain’s hand. “Let’s finish what we came here for, Johnny.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Felicia said, stepping between Deathrain and Befouler. “What are you going to do, carve him up? He’s helpless now. Put that away.”

  “Move out of the way, Girl Scout,” Deathrain said, “or you’re the one I’m going to carve up.”

  Felicia’s tail lashed. “I’d love to see you try. You’re going to have to be pretty fast to even come close to cutting me.”

  “Oh, I’m fast.” She looked over Felicia’s shoulder at me. “Right, Johnny? He’ll tell you. In fact, he’ll probably give you more details than you want to hear.”

  Felicia didn’t turn away from the assassin, but her voice twisted through the air to me. “Is this your…girlfriend, Johnny?”

  “You see?” Dak thought-spoke. “A love triangle! It is the ruination of all happiness!”

  “Well, uh…not exactly,” I said. “It’s kind of…kind of like that thing. You know?”

  “That thing,” Felicia said.

  “That one thing,” I said, “when two people…wait, why am I telling you anything? It’s none of your business!”

  “You’re screwing her, aren’t you?” Felicia said, every syllable a dagger of scorn. “You’re screwing this…thing. I knew you liked to slum sometimes, Johnny, but I didn’t know you went this low.”

  “You don’t even know me,” Deathrain said, twirling her knife inches from Felicia’s face, “and you’re insulting me. Some superhero.”

  “I know your name,” Felicia said. “Deathrain – assassin for hire. Always gets her mark. Dangerous, unstable. Anything else?”

  “No, that pretty much covers it,” Deathrain said. “I’m just a one-dimensional killer.”

  “Ladies—” I said.

  “Why are you messing around with Johnny?” Felicia said.

  “I like him,” Deathrain said, “and he’s good in bed. But you know all about his sexual prowess, don’t you?”

  Felicia’s tail stood up like an exclamation mark. “That’s…not relevant.”

  “Isn’t it?” Deathrain said. “Aren’t you just jealous that Johnny is fucking me now instead of you?”

  “Ladies—” I said.

  “Let them argue,” Dak rumbled in think-speak. “Perhaps Deathrain will kill the cat-girl, and we will never hear her pious remonstrations again.”

  “Jealous?” Felicia said. “Of you? That’s like me being jealous of a dumpster.”

  I thought I saw a grin wrinkle Deathrain’s mask. “Keep talking, tabby cat.”

  “Ladies!” I yelled. I inserted myself between them and pushed them both an arm’s length apart. “Stop it! This isn’t the time or place.”

  “Don’t stop on my account,” Befouler said. “I was enjoying the verbal fencing. You must be quite the man, Mr. Wagner, to have two women of such attractiveness and passion pining after you.”

  “I’m not pining after him—” Felicia began.

  “Enough,” I said. “You two can bitch at each other, or brawl, or whatever, later. Right now, we have work to do.” I turned to Befouler. “You know why we’re here. Talk.”

  “You’re trying to find out who killed Captain Neptune, of course,” Befouler said. “Who really killed him – we all know Gray Squirrel threw that null-raxite bomb. But someone had to have given it to him.”

  “I think that someone is you,” I said. “That bomb had your unique signature. You used Gale Force as a middleman, got it into Squirrel’s hands, made him think it was some sort of mind-swapping gizmo. As to why you wanted Neptune dead: he was smuggling for you, giving you the stuff you needed to survive, but he must’ve gotten greedy, or cocky. Maybe he wanted more money. Maybe he knew you were in his power, and he taunted you one time too many. So you decided to kill him. You hired Deathrain to take him out, but she failed, so you came up with a more subtle plan – one that worked.”

  Felicia stared at me. “So that’s what you’ve been up to….”

  I smiled. “You’ve gotten better at your craft, I’ve gotten better at mine.”

  Befouler clapped slowly, the sneer on his face making it obvious he was mocking me. “Bravo. You possess a truly penetrating intellect, along with a tenacious work ethic. I thought I had covered my tracks well, but nothing could stop you from discovering the truth, could it?”

  I leaned over the life-support unit, until I was so close to the villain I could smell his unwashed body. “I’m not in the mood for supervillain pomposity.”

  “I can produce more acid with ease, John Wagner,” Dak rumbled. “We can melt off his already-rotting limbs one at a time.”

  “God or no, I doubt any poison you could create could hurt me,” Befouler said. “I’ve already poisoned myself far too much.” He coughed and spat. “Yes, I killed Captain Neptune, for the reasons you stated. At first, it was amusing to watch his decline. And he was bringing me something called the Lazarus Vine. Like its name implies, it staves off death – it’s one of the few things that makes my condition tolerable. But the further he fell, the more insolent and unpredictable he became. I finally had enough, and did what no one else had the backbone to do.”

  “Who else was—” I began.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Befouler said, wagging a finger. “I’ll tell you everything, but you have to give me something in return.”

  “We’re not making any deals,” Deathrain said, pointing her knife at the villain. “We ask questions, you answer.”

  “We should at least hear him out,” Felicia said. “He is dying.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Deathrain said. “I can’t believe you’ve survived this long as a superhero.”

  Felicia pointed a curving claw at the mercenary. “You bitch—”

  “OK, OK, we get it, you hate each other,” I said. “Befouler, I’m curious why you think we should make any sort of deal, now that we’ve beat you. What do you want?”

  Befouler narrowed covetous eyes at Deathrain. “I want her. As I’ve said, if I can reproduce her healing factor, I can save myself. Let me…analyze her, and—”

  “Analyze?” Deathrain said. “You mean you want to experiment on me, dig into my body to try and save your worthless ass. Sorry, I’m not a guinea pig. You’ll have to figure out how to cure yourself on your own.”

  “I have tried, believe me,” Befouler said. “I’ve exhausted all options. I can create mutants, toxins, serums, and all manner of scientific wonders – but I cannot heal myself.” He let out a sigh that turned into a cough. “My body isn’t normal. All the substances I’ve exposed myself to over the years, on purpose or inadvertently, were potent and dangerous; normal medicinal healing is useless. It’s like trying to clean up nuclear waste with a mop. I have been, as they say, hoisted on my own petard.”

  “The answer’s no,” Deathrain said. “If I’m really your last shot, better make peace with yourself.”

  “You’re just going to let him die, without even trying to help him?” Felicia said. “I knew you were cold, but not that co
ld.”

  “You’re not the one he wants to experiment on,” Deathrain said. “And who are you to lecture me? I was a few dozen yards away, but I still heard that trick you pulled with the EDE pulse. You were toying with his life.”

  I could see Felicia redden, even in the dimness. “I wouldn’t have let him die.”

  “Are you sure?” Deathrain said. “Didn’t you say you’d choose yours and Johnny’s life over his?”

  “Don’t you two get started again,” I said. “The answer is no, Befouler. Deathrain doesn’t want to be poked and prodded, and I don’t blame her.”

  “If I cannot analyze her,” Befouler said, “at least let me have a vial of her blood. With it, I still may be able to glean useful information. Do not just hand me over to the authorities – please. If you do, they’ll conveniently neglect to provide for my well-being, and I’ll die in prison within days.”

  We all looked at Deathrain. I figured she’d think about it for a few moments, but her answer was almost immediate: “Answer’s still no.” She glared at me. “Don’t give me that look, Johnny. You know why I came back to Z City: to kill the people involved in this goddamn conspiracy. He’s the mastermind. Why would I want to save him?”

  “Look, Deathrain—” I said.

  “No, you fucking look,” she said. “This asshole’s guilty. He’s just playing around with us, trying to bargain with what little he has left.” A pistol appeared in her hand. “I think I’ll put a bullet into his skull, finish him off. Wouldn’t want him to suffer any longer, now would we?”

  “Put that gun down!” I yelled. I stood in front of Befouler and spread my arms. “Or do you want to hit me?”

  “If you pull that trigger—” Felicia said, readying her claws.

  “I see why you two were an item,” Deathrain said. “You’re both moralizing idiots. I’ve had enough of both of you.” She leveled her gaze at her target. “Goodbye, Befouler. I don’t care if Johnny tries to block my shot or the cat jumps me – there are fifty different angles I can shoot you from, and this pistol has eight bullets.”

  “No, it’s not yet my time,” the supervillain said, rubbing his hands together. “But I see I need to persuade you of that fact.”

  A hand reached up and yanked me down. I knocked it away, but Befouler slapped something onto my forehead, and I felt my mind flowing away, like water sloshing down a drain. The last thing I saw before I left reality was the villain’s haggard, nearly-toothless face smiling down at me in triumph.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Where am I?” my voice said. It didn’t feel like I had a body. I “looked” down, and I saw I was just a floating orange-colored cloud, an essence of some sort.

  I was on a hill overlooking a bright, dazzling cityscape. Tall objects that looked vaguely like office buildings pulsed in the distance, and points of light that may have been flying cars zipped around the piercingly blue sky.

  I looked at the hill I was “standing” on, but it wasn’t like any hill I’d ever seen. The grass was too green, and it swayed too perfectly. The dirt didn’t seem to have any texture; it looked solid, like wood.

  Had I been transported to the future? Another planet? Some other dimension?

  “You no doubt have questions,” a voice said.

  I “turned,” and there stood Befouler, not five feet away. But not the present-day Befouler: this one looked twenty years younger. He was thin, but not emaciated, with a full head of black hair and a full set of teeth. He was dressed in the simple blue costume that he’d worn back in his villainous heyday.

  “What the hell did—” I stopped, stunned into silence. I couldn’t feel or hear Dak.

  “Hey, you there?” I thought-spoke.

  No answer.

  If I’d had my body, I would’ve started sweating. I was alone – truly alone, for the first time in months. No rumbling, no voice in my head, no energy shifting on my God Arm. My thoughts bounced around what felt like a vast emptiness.

  “You’re probably wondering where your god is,” Befouler said. “He is back in the real world, still on your arm, still threatening me – the real me – as only he can. I was curious if he would be shunted here along with you. He clearly wasn’t, so while your minds are connected in reality, you are technically still separate beings.” He rubbed his chin. “Most intriguing.”

  “Back in the real world?” I said.

  “We’re in the Net. I’d wager this is your first time here. Your confusion is apparent, but you also can’t form an avatar.” He held out his arms and spun around. “This is my avatar. Me, as I once was. Some people create muscled he-men, or suave secret-agent types, for their avatars. I simply desire to appear as a younger version of myself.”

  “How did you drag me into the Net?” I said. “I don’t have a cranial jack.”

  “That isn’t the only way to interface with the Net. I used something called a Mind Meld device on you. It’s a small object, like a swimming cap, that you simply place onto a person’s head, and it connects them to this place. Allegedly this device was developed by Professor Perfection himself, much like that EDE pulse, but who knows what does or does not originate with that genius?”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  “So I could use you – your mind, actually – as a bargaining chip,” Befouler replied. “You’re a novice in this place. I can mindwipe you easily. Without a mind, your body would die also. And, as I’m explaining to your friends right now, if the Feline uses that EDE pulse again, your mind will be completely severed from your body, and the latter will die. I’m hoping your friends understand the severity of the situation, and act accordingly.”

  “Thanks for hijacking my melon,” I said. “I was trying to save you, dumbass. I wouldn’t have let Deathrain kill you.”

  Befouler wagged his finger at me. “I was supposed to believe that you and the Feline could stop her before a stray bullet struck me? I think not. No, this is a much better tactic.”

  “You know, if she uses that pulse again, you’ll die, too,” I said.

  Befouler chuckled. It was a healthy, almost winning chuckle, unlike the grisly chuckle of his real-life form. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He looked up at the blue sky, like he saw something interesting up there. “The Feline and Deathrain are arguing – again. Deathrain wants to shoot me regardless – she clearly doesn’t care about you one whit. The Feline, of course, wants to save you. Dak is confused – he despises the Feline, and lusts for Deathrain, from what I can tell, but he doesn’t want you to die, since you are, after all, his host. What would his fate be if you perished? So many personalities, so many variables….”

  Was he telling the truth? Was Deathrain still trying to kill Befouler?

  “So what do we do while the two girls and the god hash things out?” I said. “Enjoy the pretty sights?”

  “Yes, if you like,” Befouler said. “This place is a futuristic game called Freedom 2050. Were you actually able to play it, you would likely find it engaging and innovative. You cannot move from this hill, however; I will not allow it.” I felt my “essence” tighten, like he was squeezing me. “Were you an experienced net-runner, you could likely shrug off my bonds. But you are not, so you can’t.”

  “An experienced net-runner?” someone said. “Wherever will we find one of those?”

  Me and Befouler looked up, and saw a large figure hovering in the air above us. It was a well-muscled man in spandex tights, with a square jaw and long silky hair. A glow surrounded him, like he was an angel. He looked like a superhero-heartthrob in the mold of Waverush.

  He also had a huge man-package. It was literally jackhammer-sized. I couldn’t stop staring at it.

  The man laughed at my gaping, and wriggled his hips. “If only I had this in real life. No woman would ever be unsatisfied.”

  “Leave this place,” Befouler said. He held out his hand, and a blue orb, some sort of energy ball, appeared in it. “This is none of your business…wait…it’s you.
”

  “Yup, it’s me,” the man said. “Here to help out my buddy.”

  I looked from one to the other. “Me who? What’s going on?”

  “This avatar is new to you,” the man said, “but you recognize my voice, don’t you?”

  I blinked up at the well-endowed figure. “Netmaster?”

  “That’s it,” he said.

  “That’s your avatar?” I asked. “Don’t you think you’ve overdone it?”

  “No way, man,” Netmaster said. “I’m a runt in real life, and, to be honest, my penis is average-sized. Let me have some fun in the Net.”

  “You’re a boy playing at being a man,” Befouler growled. The orb in his hand doubled in size. “I’ve detected your meddling, your coarse probing into my systems. You are involving yourself in affairs far beyond your comprehension.”

  “Suuurre I am,” Netmaster said. “If you’ve detected my incursions, why haven’t you dropped the hammer down on me?”

  “I’m occupied with other things.”

  “Suuurre you are.” He flexed his biceps; they made a pro wrestler’s arms look as big as walnuts. “You may be better at me in a lot things out in the real world, but here in the Net, I’m the big man on campus.”

  “Is that so?” Befouler said. “Are you challenging me?”

  “I am,” Netmaster said, pointing his massive rod at the villain. “Can’t let you hold Johnny here hostage. He owes me too much money.”

  “Then have at you!” Befouler screamed. He hurled the blue orb at Netmaster. Netmaster smirked, stuck out his pinkie finger, and flicked it to the side. It exploded a few dozen yards from him, bathing the hill in blue light.

  “Such awesome power!” Netmaster said. “Johnny, tell my mother I loved her dearly, for I am surely doomed!”

  “I will not stand your mockery!” Befouler shouted.

  He leapt into the air and flew towards Netmaster. Netmaster simply hovered there, still smirking. Befouler sent a punch into my friend’s midsection, but Netmaster didn’t flinch – instead, Befouler was the one howling in pain.