“Your uncle has accepted my wishes. He has remained here, planning his wedding, readying himself for fatherhood.” Magda gently smiled at Maksim. “I have no doubt your child will be among the most powerful this family has ever seen.”
Maksim nodded his head without pride for the compliment. It was a simple acceptance of his mother's statement.
“I'm sure he would rather be fighting as well. This blood lust runs in our family, it seems. But he understands that some things take precedence. He will marry Carmen Kross, she will bear his child, and the strength of our family will grow.”
“Yes, grandmother, the strength of our family will grow while we watch the eastern border fall to the Neo-Nipponese army. And we will continue to grow in strength while their army marches across our empire until we have no empire left to rule. But the children!” she shouted with a mocking excitement. “Think of all our beautiful babies! Perhaps if we ask nicely, Katsu Oshiro won't put them all to death!”
Magda stood up from her chair, which startled both Maksim and Zana. For a moment, he thought she might leap across the table and attempt to strangle her own granddaughter, but she remained calm. Her movements were precise and deliberate. The smile she showed Zana was both calm and furious, a contradiction that felt unsettling.
“You may think I am foolish for, after all these years, finding pride and perhaps comfort in my place in this family. But when it comes to governing, when it comes to looking at all sides of an equation, do not mistake me for an idiot, girl.”
She floated toward Zana, and though Zana stepped back, Magda crossed the room swiftly. Her hands latched out and gripped either side of Zana's stomach, digging her fingers under the armor of the girl's chest piece.
“You have power inside you. Power only a woman can wield. Your womb isn't a curse or a burden to bear. It is a blessing to be thankful for, a garden that bears the sweetest fruit, and when necessary, a weapon for you to wield. Your womb won't only provide this empire with another child, more powerful than the previous generation. Your womb will bring an end to this war.”
Zana knocked Magda's hands from her stomach and backed away further. “What are you talking about?”
Magda smiled, this time a sense of treachery and deviousness. “I'm speaking of Therian. Their domain has remained silent during this conflict, and all attempts to coordinate our efforts with their armies have proved... fruitless.”
“You think the Therians can turn the tide of this war?” Maksim asked.
Magda returned to her seat, still smiling. “The two of you never saw the Therians fight. You never saw their ferocity on the battlefield. There is a reason those half-animals control their own domain. You have only seen the elephant-men and the lion-men and the wolf-men in a time of peace. You back them into a corner? Their primal side will bare its teeth.”
Zana paused to consider the idea for a moment. “Their strategic placement, if used correctly, could force the Neo-Nipponese to fight on two fronts. Splitting their army would give us a distinct advantage.”
“But you said they have refused an alliance?” Maksim asked, wondering how that was possible.
“Dominus Mastodon isn't an ignorant man,” Magda explained, as if offering that small of a compliment turned her stomach. “He has watched the war closely. They say the snakes in the grass and the birds in the sky are all his spies. Most likely nonsense, but either way, he knows how much his support is worth. And so far, Katsu Oshiro is the only one who has offered him anything of value.”
“He coerces with the enemy?” Zana growled, stepping forward, ready to declare war on the domain. “How dare he?”
“Calm yourself, girl,” Magda said with a smirk, as if her youthful angst was something to pity. “Dominus Mastodon is doing what all true leaders do. He is guaranteeing the survival of his people. According to our sources, Katsu Oshiro has offered him a child. An heir to his throne. Dominus Mastodon's lineage will combine with the super-intelligence of the Oshiros. And all he has to do is remain neutral.”
“Treason!” Zana shouted.
Magda flashed another smile, this one wicked and sharp. “Please, be sure to temper your anger when you meet with him.”
The frustrated rage emanating from Zana's face vanished, her skin turning white as the realization of what Magda's words meant settled into her mind. Magda did not wait for her to respond, instead turning to Maksim to explain his role in her plan.
“After your marriage to Carmen, you will travel with your new wife and your niece to Therian. You will offer Zana's hand in marriage as our own gift to their family. You will ask for their alliance in this war. And you will not so subtly mention the lineage that your new wife was born from. You will remind them of the father that bore her, the war that his power ended, and the combined power that your child will wield.”
Zana backed herself into the wall, her armor clanging against the stone, yet she remained silent. It was most assuredly not out of fear, for the girl held no apprehension to speaking back to her grandmother. Maksim assumed it was pure shock that held her tongue. The idea that she would marry a Therian was always a possibility, but one that she most likely denied.
Maksim considered his mother's orders, wanting to nod his head and accept them, but something about taking Carmen with him did not sit right. He wasn't sure why, but before he could reflect on his own feelings, his mouth was already moving.
“Do you think it wise, when the Therian's help is so dire to our circumstances, that we both placate them and threaten them? Doesn't that undermine our attempts at either?”
The smile left Magda's face. She appeared stoic, speaking not directly to Maksim, but to time itself, as if she were quoting herself to the history books.
“An offer of love, and an offer of fear,” she explained. “It is the way of the Empire... the way of your Imperator.”
Maksim glanced at his niece, who still appeared too stunned to offer any words in acceptance or refusal. Maksim was left with only one option. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and said the words he was required to speak.
“His will be done.”
9
ANDRE
The yard was full of prisoners playing basketball, lifting weights, or smoking cigarettes around the cement tables. They all spent their hours soaking up the artificial daylight pouring in from the ceiling, trying to trick their brains into thinking they were actually outdoors. It was a necessity for their sanity. No one wanted to actually face the reality of how many miles below ground they were being held, under the wasteland that used to be the United States.
Normally, anytime Andre was in the yard, he would be flanked by his entourage. Shields of muscle would surround him, forcing anyone near him to step aside as he passed. But at Doctor Chem's behest, they walked at least twenty steps behind, and Doctor Chem spoke to Andre in a mumbled whisper.
“I'm getting out of here.”
Andre had heard the sentiment many times before, usually in drunken stupors or drug-addled fantasies. Prisoners would explain some grand plan they had to get out of the Pit, as if it were some town jail in which they could pry the bars off the windows. It was usually good for a laugh. What surprised Andre about Doctor Chem's mention of a plan wasn't the idea of escape, but the sober, resolute confidence in which it was spoken.
“The great escape, eh? And how are a bunch of chemicals going to accomplish that, old man? Especially without your powers?”
Doctor Chem's eyes flashed around at the other prisoners before he turned to Andre and hissed, “Keep your voice down, boy, or this conversation is going to come to a quick end.”
Andre chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just explain yourself.”
Doctor Chem looked around again, making sure no one was paying attention to them before he continued. “I wouldn't normally tell you this... but I have a feeling about you.”
“Oh yeah? What kind of feeling?”
“The feeling you ain't in any hurry to get out of he
re. The kind of feeling that says your life wasn't all that great on the outside. Am I wrong?”
Andre's sarcastic smile faltered. He didn't like thinking about it, and he liked talking about it even less. Victor. Mickey. Carmen. Wesley. Even his mom. All memories of a life he wished he could forget, because the old man was right. His life inside the Pit was the closest he had ever become to being somebody. Maybe he wasn't a supervillain, but they called him “Boss.” They gave him respect. He ran things, and people knew it.
“Let's just say I'm comfortable where I am.”
Doctor Chem shook his head. “I don't know how you did it, boy. This line of inventory you manage to get shipped in? I've never seen anything like it.”
Andre shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. Which it wasn't. Even he didn't understand how it was possible. Carmen had pulled strings, somehow, but he was never going to admit that to anyone. He took all the credit, whether he deserved it or not.
“We're not here to talk about me. I have connections,” he said, looking up at the fake sunlight. “That's all you need to know.”
“That's all I care to know. As long as I get what I need, I'm putting this whole place behind me.”
“How? Explain it to me.”
Doctor Chem came to a stop by the corner of the yard and sat down on a cement bench. Andre motioned for his henchmen to stop, which they did, taking a seat near a pick-up game of basketball.
“I used to be a chemist. It's how I stumbled across the formula that gave me my powers.”
“You've explained this already,” Andre said, trying to push the old man past that part of his history, knowing that some of these old supervillains could get caught in a loop telling the same story of their glory days. “Get to the point.”
“Damn impatient kids,” Doctor Chem said. “Fine. The point is, I know what I'm doing when it comes to chemicals. I don't need my powers to come up with brilliant concoctions.”
“I'm sure. But what does this brilliant concoction do? How is it going to magically help you escape the most highly-advanced prison known to man?”
Doctor Chem looked up at Andre, his eyes flashing with a brightness Andre had never seen in the old man.
“It's going to kill me.”
Andre stared at him for a moment, waiting for the old man to laugh, but Doctor Chem kept holding the same excited twinkle in his eyes, waiting for Andre to react. Andre finally did, but his laughter probably wasn't what the old man was expecting.
“What's so funny?”
When Andre caught his breath he said, “I mean... that's it? That's your big plan? You've given up. Going to off yourself. That's how you're going to escape?”
Doctor Chem's eyes flashed around at the mention of escape, eyeing the prisoners and guards, but no one was paying attention.
“You idiot,” he whispered. “The plan doesn't end there. This mixture of chemicals doesn't really kill me. It slows everything down. Heart beat, breathing, you name it. Anything and everything they monitor to see if I'm still alive. See, I used to work in the prison's morgue, when I was a younger man. They ship all the bodies out of here. Bury them in the wasteland. I know the schedules. I know the process. So once I'm declared dead and thrown out with the trash, there's a timed release within the chemicals that will revive me after twelve hours. That should be enough time for them to discard me topside.”
Andre couldn't help but be intrigued. The idea was gutsy, if not foolhardy. He kind of wanted to help the old man, just to see if he could pull it off. It would be the first escape ever recorded. He only wished he could go down in the history books as an accomplice, but if they ever found out he was supplying the old man with the items he needed to escape, his supply line would be cut off.
“That's quite the fantasy.”
“It's no fantasy!” Doctor Chem yelled for the first time, then quieted himself just as quickly. “It's science.”
“Maybe. But it's risky, untested science.”
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“No? So you've done this before? Slowed your heart rate? Faked your death? Put so much faith in your chemical measurements that you trust them to bring you back to life?”
Doctor Chem looked away, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“I tested it on rats.”
“Rats?”
“Years ago. In college.”
Andre rubbed his forehead. “So, you're telling me that you're gonna test out something you haven't done in decades, that quite possibly could kill you, all the while hoping it effects humans the same as rats... just in the off chance you might end up on the outside?”
Doctor Chem clenched his fists and stared down at them. “You're damn straight.”
Andre was befuddled. He couldn't make sense of it. What was so important to the man that he'd risk everything to reclaim it? Was he losing his mind in his old age? Did all the years in the Pit drive him insane? Was that what he, himself, had to look forward to eventually? Andre summed up all his questions with one word.
“Why?”
Doctor Chem actually chuckled at the question. “Why? Because I miss it. I miss the feeling of power flowing through my body. I miss the feeling of being able to change the composition of matter with only a thought. Do you have any idea the high you get off of that? I was a god among men. Rock to gold. Bullets to water. I could have had my own domain, had I played my cards right.”
“So that's it?” Andre asked, still not understanding. “You wanna feel like a big man again?”
Doctor Chem shook his head. “Look, I don't expect you to understand this, but I had plans... plans that didn't involve me rotting away in a cell. When you get to my age, you start looking back at your life. You start wondering what it is you did with your time. What it is you left behind.”
“And? What are you leaving behind?”
Doctor Chem shrunk down, his head sinking between his shoulders. “That's just it. I don't know.”
“But you're a legend. I mean... you used to be. Your story will be told. They'll write about you in history books, I'm sure.”
“A footnote, if I'm lucky.”
“I mean...”
“Look kid, I don't need you to make me feel better. I don't need you to convince me that I haven't wasted my life. I made my decisions. I'm the only one to blame for where I am... for who I am. All I'm asking you to do, is give me a chance.”
“A chance for what? Let's say you get out of here, they dump your body in the wasteland, you're taken far enough away from Negaton that you get your powers back and they're powerful enough to get past the Neo-Nipponese murder-bots that roam the wasteland, you get through the Hive without being recognized, and you make it back to your lair. What then? What's the master plan for you to go down in infamy? What's gonna make the name Doctor Chem immortal?”
“It's too late for that. Doctor Chem is... he died a long time ago. I'll never be able to resurrect what I once was.” The old man stared off into space for a moment, like he was caught up in his own regrets and might never come back, but he eventually shook them off and continued. “But perhaps someone else could do what I couldn't. If I could find the right person, give them one of my two remaining doses... they could be an heir to my fortune, my powers... my legacy. Then perhaps I can die knowing I did something. Perhaps I will know I made my mark on this world. A mark that will last longer than I did.”
“And that's it? You wanna risk your life so you can have a baby supervillain of your very own?”
Doctor Chem nodded his head. “You must think me a foolish old man. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. I need to do this... while I still have time.”
Andre watched Doctor Chem, studying the look in his eyes as he stared down at his wrinkled hands. Time had done its job on the man's body and left its scars, a constant reminder of the ticking clock that his life had become. The hourglass was nearly empty, and he was trying t
o do everything he could with those last few grains of sand.
“Fine. I'll get you what you need.”
The old man perked up, his back straightening with a surge of hope. “You will? I... I only need a few more components and the mixture will be complete.”
Andre looked out over the yard, watching the guards, their eyes studying every prisoner with contempt. “You gotta good place to hide all this? If they discover your stockpile, it could put my own supplies in jeopardy.”
Doctor Chem smiled, and with a whisper he said, “Oh yes. An old man's bowels leave nothing that the guards want to clean up. They haven't touched my toilet in months.”
Andre's nose curled up as if he could actually smell the mess the old man was describing. “That's disgusting.”
Doctor Chem shrugged his shoulders and said, “Perhaps. But the tank on the toilet is perfectly clean. And the first thing I asked you for was a package of condoms.”
Andre nodded his head, faintly remembering the request. “Smart. Waterproof balloons.”
“They do the trick.”
Andre stood up and held out his hand for Doctor Chem to shake. “Then we've gotta deal, if for no other reason than I want you to stick it to the Alliance. I wanna see that new Imperator on TV trying to explain to everyone how the citizens of the Empire are still safe and sound, even though one of those notorious supervillains figured out how to escape their perfect little prison.”
Doctor Chem shook his hand, using the gesture to help him up off the bench. “Sorry, kid. But if I get out of here, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure no one finds out I'm alive.”
“What?” Andre said with surprise. “Why wouldn't you want them to know? You could go down in the history books for this. The first man to escape the Pit.”
Doctor Chem shook his head. “I'll leave the pride and glory to you young kids. I'm too old to have Alliance members or Guardians chasing me through the streets. I'm going to keep my head down and do the job. Maybe the next Doctor Chem can be on TV.”
Rise of the Supervillains Page 7
