by Logan Jacobs
“One of them is diffracting the light rays that enter his vicinity in a pattern that renders him and everyone in physical contact with him invisible to the naked human eye,” Aileen explained.
“But you can see him?” I asked.
“No, but the thermal sensors installed last night are picking up three signatures,” Aileen said. “I believe that the gas has affected them slightly, since they appear to be moving erratically.”
“That will help with the effectiveness of the traps.” I looked over at Norma to see how my sleep-deprived assistant was doing. In fact, she appeared to have perked up significantly after Aileen’s alert, and her puffy eyes had a new sparkle in them.
“This is much better than coffee,” she whispered, and I nodded.
At that point a black-clad figure appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the warehouse floor. I guessed he must have broken physical contact with the other supervillain who had the invisibility power. He moved toward the large hangar door that had closed behind the car, but the metal was made out of weighted titanium, and he wasn’t able to move it no matter how hard he shook it.
“It appears they are making him scout ahead while they stay near the car.” Aileen transferred me from camera to camera to follow along with him as he progressed through the warehouse, apparently in search of another exit or whoever had been responsible for bringing him and his companions there. His suit was lined in a sort of futuristic looking bluish silver phosphorescent trim, his face was completely covered by a mask but his bright orange fluffy hair was exposed, and he carried no apparent conventional weapons, which meant that his power must be his weapon.
Norma peered excitedly over my shoulder and whispered, “Sizzle sizzle.” as he walked down a hallway.
“You’re turning into a real sicko, Norma,” I said with a laugh.
“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly with cheeks flushed.
“Don’t be, I like it,” I said as I watched the scene unfolding on my phone.
Our prey stepped onto a strip of metal that had been painted to resemble the rest of the tiled flooring, and enough voltage to topple a herd of cows surged through his body. Behind the black mask that covered his face, his mop of orange hair stood on end and a shudder ran through his lanky frame.
Then, he opened his mouth in what appeared to be a maniacal giggle, although I couldn’t hear it, flexed his gloved hands, and kept strolling down the hall.
“What the fuck?” I muttered. “Aileen? The weight plate depressed and the electric charge activated, right?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“Then what kind of superpower let him just--”
“The Virus has become visible now,” Aileen interrupted. “Would you like to track him?”
“Yes, go ahead,” I agreed, and the video playing on my phone switched over to a different camera feed.
I could see The Virus now, presumably accompanied by his invisible companion. The Virus appeared as a tallish, sallow-faced, hook-nosed man in a pinstriped three-piece suit with a fedora, kind of a nineteen twenties gangster style costume. It was almost like self-parody, the way some of these supers chose to outfit themselves.
The Virus stepped onto the top stair of the staircase leading up to the second floor of the building on the opposite side of where his other underling explored. He moved up the steps without really even looking for traps, and he was rewarded for his lack of effort a few moments later when dense spikes half a foot tall shot out of one of the steps. I saw his mouth open in a scream of agony as the spikes stabbed through his feet and tore through his calf muscles. But then, he slid upward free of the spikes and levitated off the ground, then floated gently up the stairs safely over the rest of the spikes. I could see from the position of his body and the way the fabric was rumpled that he was being gripped around the ribs under the armpits, even though there was no one there. So, it seemed that his invisible friend could also fly.
Once he landed below the stairs, The Virus leaned on the wall for a second opened his mouth, and let out a scream that I couldn’t hear through my phone. From the knees down he was bleeding pretty badly from the various puncture wounds, but I guessed that he could still walk, because he let go of the wall and kept going.
“This is exciting,” Norma said. “Good idea with the spikes.”
“It’s not over yet,” I mused. “His ugly face doesn’t seem that worried, and that concerns me.”
“You’ll want to see this,” Aileen said in my ear, and the feed switched back over to the redhaired black-clad supervillain who had survived getting electrocuted.
He was approaching a hallway filled with apertures for arrows and some other fun assorted little missiles, but then he paused, evaluated the far wall, and apparently spotted the inconspicuous control box in the corner. He raised his hand and a crackling white ball shot out and fried the control box.
“Fuck.” I asked Aileen, “Is it still functioning?”
“Zero signal from the control box,” she replied.
“Well, guess that’s why the electricity before didn’t hurt him,” I said. “I don’t know whether he generates his own, or absorbs and redirects it, but either way, seems like his body functions as some kind of conduit without his own organs being affected. Interesting.”
The supervillain strolled casually down the hallway with a smirk on his face. His black suit was still crackling with patterns of streaking white light, residual electricity that seemed to cling to him after he had taken out the control box.
He took a left turn at the end of the hallway, and Aileen activated a solid sheet of flame that flared up and blocked his way.
The flame-haired supervillain stared at it, and I wondered for a moment if he was somehow impervious to fire as well, but then he shrugged his shoulders, turned around, and went right instead.
That was a mistake.
The floor opened beneath his feet, and he dropped down a chute to the basement, straight into the brimming full kiddie pool with a splash.
My original motivation for installing the kiddie pool trap had been in case there was another flame-wielding supervillain that I needed to douse, but this combination turned out to be even more spectacular. Electricity alone clearly didn’t harm this guy, and getting a little wet had never killed anyone with a normal physical constitution, but electricity and water didn’t mix well.
A wave of energy leapt up from the pool while his body spasmed, and the red-haired human lightning rod screamed and convulsed for a few seconds, which sloshed most of the water out of the pool. Then he went limp and his face started to smoke.
“Is he dead?” I asked Aileen.
“I will give you confirmation as soon as his body temperature starts dropping,” she replied.
Then she switched the visual feed over to give me a view of The Virus, who I presumed was still accompanied by his invisible companion. He was limping bloodily through the next room. He looked around, either for an enemy to attack or for an exit, and found neither. He angrily punched a wall.
I laughed. “Someone’s not having a good morning.”
“Should I activate the next round of gas?” Aileen inquired.
“Yes, go ahead,” I said.
Vents opened, and the room rapidly filled up with acrid, lung-burning smoke. We were able to fit a lot more containers in the wall of the building versus the wall of the car, so the cloud almost became too difficult to see through.
The Virus began to scream, and a disturbance in the pattern of the smoke near him suggested that his companion was equally affected and moving at his side. The invisible supervillain did not appear to possess wings based on the fact that he did not displace any more smoke than a normal sized human would have, and if he had had wings, he presumably would have pumped them to clear the air.
The pair of them staggered toward the nearest door.
“Yes,” I chuckled. “Pick that door. Oh thank you. This is going to be a real treat.”
I glanced over at Nor
ma and saw that her delight matched mine.
Aileen bumped us over to the camera angled into that hallway as the two supervillains stumbled out into view with a cloud of smoke billowing behind them. I was actually a bit surprised that they weren’t unconscious, but they did seem to move with heavy limbs, so I guessed that it was taking all of their superhuman constitution to fight off my poisonous gas.
Scanners projected grids over both of their bodies as they mapped out their dimensions and movements. They evidently didn’t have any issue reading the other supervillain, even though human eyes could not perceive him. Then, the scanners projected identical holographic clones of each of them. The clones were slightly pixelated from certain angles and, occasionally, they glitched and moved unnaturally, but the effect was still astonishing. Especially after the holographic clones started multiplying.
The Virus’ companion, as it turned out, was evidently clad in silver trimmed with jagged black designs. He wore a mask that made his face look like a skull. He and The Virus started understandably freaking out as they tried to figure out what was going on and where the other was, or maybe The Virus was just freaking out because he’d never realized how ugly his companion was before, but the mob of clones just mimicked their gestures of panic and confusion. After a few seconds they started trying to push their way through to get to the door marked “EXIT” at the end of the hallway.
The clones weren’t solid, so they were physically able to go through them, but as the villains got nearer to the door, a metal gate clanged into place over the exit.
As they threw themselves against the door in frustration, their holographic clones did the same, and some of the clones danced around, leered at them, and made obscene gestures.
The Virus got out a small battery powered circular saw that had been concealed within his rumpled and ill-fitting suit, extended it, and started sawing through the gate. His movements were really slow, and he kept blinking, so I almost wondered if he was about to faint from inhaling the knockout gas.
“Ahh,” Norma giggled. “The best part is that isn’t even an exit. It’s just a fake door.”
“Yep,” I chuckled. “But alas, I’m getting bored of watching these idiots flail around. Aileen, take out the friend.”
She detected his location and remotely activated a tiny heat-seeking missile that burst straight through his invisible forehead. The instant he died, his carcass became visible again and sprawled out on the ground. His holographic clones, however, continued to dance around merrily. Then, the scanners detected the visual update. The clones flickered and reconfigured with a bloody hole through their foreheads and blank staring eyes behind their skull masks.
All the indistinguishable Viruses appeared to notice the change at the same time and recoiled in horror.
“Okay, this is the perfect moment for me to make my move,” I said as I stood up.
“What?” Norma asked. “You’re going in there? But couldn’t Aileen just take him out with another of those little tracker pellet things?”
“I want him alive for questioning,” I answered as I held up a clenched fist inside one of my turbo-charged gloves. “And these are a better tool for that.”
“But he’s a supervillain!” she gasped.
“He’s also drugged,” I pointed out. “Look at the way he’s moving. The gas really got to him.”
“Okay, I’ll come with you,” Norma groaned.
“You bring the rifle,” I said. “If he starts getting the better of me somehow, then take him out. But only if you have a clear shot.” I felt compelled to emphasize that last part, since Norma was of course a decent shot, but not a superb one.
As Norma and I made our way down the hill toward the building, I asked Aileen, “Have you picked up any superpower usage by The Virus yet? That first one had that zapping power, and the second one could go invisible and fly, but The Virus himself didn’t seem to do anything useful the whole time he was going through our systems.”
“I did not detect the use of any superpower by The Virus,” Aileen said. “As you know, online reports did not mention one either. They simply describe him as a cunning and highly manipulative adversary.”
“Is it possible he doesn’t have one?” I asked. “Would supervillains respect and obey someone who was… just a villain?”
“It is possible,” Aileen replied. “There are other factors besides superpowers that can bestow influence. Supervillains have been known to conspire with non-super politicians, gangsters, military leadership, and so on.”
“Hmm,” I said. “Well, can you come provide physical backup as well?”
“I regret to remind you that the central operating closet where my body was placed this morning is in the basement,” Aileen said.
“Damn it, I really need to build those legs,” I groaned. “What about the heat-seeking missiles?”
“You don’t want me to deploy another of those while you’re inside the building,” Aileen said. “The last one got stopped inside the invisible superhero’s skull. But if it had gone straight through, it would have continued seeking its next living target.”
“Okay, well then, just be our eyes and ears-- and, if shit really hits the fan, then assume full systems control and do whatever is necessary to keep us alive,” I said. As we reached the side entrance of the warehouse that led into the hallway where The Virus was waiting I turned back to my assistant. “Norma--”
“At the ready,” she interrupted me.
“Then let’s do this thing,” I said and unlocked the door.
Miles Chapter Ten
When he saw us enter through the door on the other side of the room, The Virus stopped sawing on the gate that blocked him off from the fake exit. I signaled to Aileen, and she turned off all the holographic clones so that only one pinstripe suited, bloody, limping figure remained.
Then Norma and I walked up to the gate to confront him face to face.
His face had a jaundiced tint, bags under the eyes, and an impressively hooked nose. I wondered whether it was all natural or if he had had surgical alterations done. Sometimes supervillains did that to better look the part.
“Looking for me?” I asked him.
“Who are you?” he demanded in a raspy voice as he clutched the saw and backed up against the bars.
“Just a guy who thinks that people shouldn’t get blown up and lasered in half for going to a party,” I replied. So I guess he didn’t recognize me. My face was fairly famous, not nearly as famous as Optimo’s, but still easy to find by online search, but not everyone kept up with the news or the tabloids. To be honest, I had no intention of letting The Virus walk away from this and have the chance to reveal my identity anyway, but that was for the better, just in case. I was nowhere near ready to take on all supervillain comers.
“Ah, this is about the Gala,” he chuckled. “Yes, that went off spectacularly.”
“The repercussions for you and your boss are going to be even more spectacular,” I said.
He eyed me sullenly. “You a new Warden recruit? One of the tech wizard types? Not born for the role, but just trying desperately hard to elbow your way in?”
“Where can I find The Chief?” I demanded.
“Wherever there’s mayhem and murder,” he cackled as he thumbed the trigger on his saw and made the circular blade start to spin.
“I’m going to need a more permanent address than that,” I said. “Norma? Take out one of his kneecaps.”
When The Virus failed to react to that threat, and I failed to hear the crack of the rifle, I turned to look at my assistant.
She was pointing the rifle straight at my face.
“Norma, what the hell are you doing?” I asked as my stomach dropped.
“She’s mine now.” The Virus laughed long and low. “That’s my power. I can control people. It’s--”
“I like it.” I turned to him.
“You… like it?” His ugly face contorted with confusion.
“Quite useful,
actually,” I said. “I regret having not planned for it, but I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“No one ever plans for The Virus!” he cackled as he rapped on the metal bars with his saw. “Now press whatever button you have to open this gate, or your cute little assistant, much as she would hate to do it, is going to put a bullet straight through your brain.”
“Norma?” I asked loudly to see how she would react and how much control The Virus really had over her. She stared straight at me with an impassive expression and simply nodded once. My stomach dropped again, but I had a bit of an ace up my sleeve.
I just hoped it would work.
“Aileen, open the gate,” I sighed into the microphone. “Also, initiate Protocols Eight and Sixty Four.”
“You got it,” she replied in my ear.
The gate over the fake door slid up out of the way, but as it did so, a lighted grid scrolled over me, and then a dozen perfect visual copies of myself appeared. They started running around and jumping and got between me and Norma so she couldn’t tell who she was supposed to be aiming at anymore. Meanwhile, I made a dash straight for The Virus as he tried to open the fake door with the hand that wasn’t holding his saw.
I socked him straight in the nose with my power-gloved fist, but he twisted back at the last moment so that he didn’t feel the full impact of my new weapon. His nose still broke with a satisfying crunch of cartilage, but I would have prefered that his skull shattered.
He stumbled away from my attack with a loud curse and swung his saw at me in a vicious arc. It sliced clean through my midsection, and he let out a cry of triumph, but then my pixels recalibrated, and then I kept moving around like nothing had happened, because nothing had. The idiot had just attacked one of my holograms.
My real self, meanwhile, landed a light blow to The Virus’ unsuspecting side. These gloves were amazing, and I felt a few of his ribs crack like toothpicks even though I hadn’t put much force into the punch.
He swung the saw again, but his attack was slower, and he intentionally went in a wide circle to slice through all of my selves so that he wouldn’t miss the real one. It went through one, then two, and then I easily leapt backward to avoid the whirling blade.
