“My name is pronounced Dome… I think it’s German or something. Anyway, what about that other guy… the weird one? Riot Master. He was on Icarus, and didn’t he claim that he had been under someone else’s control? Why aren’t I investigating him?”
Voice gave Jenny another of his long silences before replying.
“We can’t find the Riot Master anywhere.”
“Are you are worried about him? I’d be worried about him, if I were you,” said Jenny casually.
She didn’t really mean it, but she did like messing with the all–powerful Voice.
“That is also not your concern.”
“Is it your concern? Are you… concerned, Voice?” she teased.
“Yes, Jennifer Doom, I am.”
There was something in Voice’s tone that made Jenny pause in her mocking. Voice sounded deeply worried, and that made Jenny feel a little guilty.
“Tell me what’s going on, Voice,” she said.
Voice hesitated and Jenny heard muttering on his side of the line as he talked to someone near him.
“Tell me, Voice!”
“We have received information that Psychic Psycho is still alive but captive somewhere, and that one of the League of Supervillains is trying to break him free.”
“Uh oh,” said Jenny in a very small voice.
The gold bar dropped out of her hand and landed on her foot with a thud. She didn’t even notice.
“Uh oh indeed, Jennifer, uh oh indeed.”
CHAPTER TWELVE: CHAOS ALWAYS BEATS ORDER, BECAUSE CHAOS HOLDS FEWER MEETINGS
Minions are important. Do you really want to be making your own coffee, like a total loser?
–Rex Rogue’s guide for aspiring supervillains, unpublished.
Rex’s base was taking shape quickly.
There were enough new minions in the base that he needed to wear his Duke Terror disguise when in public, so he put his mask on and keyed his holo–jacket to show a dull grey suit. He paused to check his appearance in the mirror and then, content with what he saw, strode towards his command room. The dog–like mutants were gone, already scouting the world for Rex’s next base. Slade and Skyre thought that Rex only used them to set bases up, but in reality they served him in a hundred different ways. The mutants were one of his many secrets.
“And a secret shared is a secret lost,” said Rex to himself.
Slade had worked fast to hire hundreds of men and women of all shapes, colors and sizes to staff the base. Rex always paid well and didn’t ask any questions, so he never had trouble filling job vacancies with a diverse mix of humans, superhumans, mutants and worse. Some of them were out to make a quick buck, others were hiding from the police, and some were considered too dangerous or just too insane for a normal job.
Rex didn’t mind; he liked the crazy ones the best.
Some of his new minions had even worked for superheroes before joining Rex. The superheroes generally only paid minimum wage and didn’t treat their workers very well, so working for Rex was a big step up in the careers of most of the people who worked for him.
“Supervillains, champions of the working class,” muttered Rex.
Maintaining order over such an unruly mob of workers required a careful balance of fear and reward, and Rex knew that he was only one mistake away from his minions rioting through his base. Such riots were common in supervillains’ bases, and occasionally the minions even overpowered their masters. The very thought of such a riot made Rex smile; he wouldn’t have been a very good supervillain if he didn’t enjoy taking huge risks.
His phone rang.
“What? Riot Master? No, I don’t know where he is. Have you tried his mom’s house? Yeah, he used to live in the basement but I think he moved out. No, I can’t help you, I have a whole new base to set up.”
He snapped the phone shut and walked past teams of minions assembling the complex equipment needed to run a secret base. Most of his workers wore green overalls, but Rex encouraged his more powerful minions to express themselves through their clothing; it made being a supervillain far more interesting. He walked past a villain whose suit was covered in old clock faces and another who had tentacles instead of arms. The villains bowed, but Rex didn’t acknowledge them. Rex had decided that Duke Terror would never address his lesser workers directly unless it was to punish them. He stopped outside his new command room, took a deep breath and then strode in.
“Speak!” he ordered Skyre.
“Even this accursed heat cannot dissuade the dull minds who seek their own destruction as moths will gather to the destroying flames. We have a pair of superheroes in the cells,” she said.
“What, already?” asked Rex in his normal voice.
The base was only a day old, after all. The security teams weren’t ready to deal with superheroes, and so the arrival of even one could have been a disaster.
Skyre nodded meaningfully at the other minions in the command room and Rex remembered his role.
“I mean… excellent! They shall suffer my eternal wrath!” Rex yelled out in the voice of Duke Terror.
“I don’t know how they could find us so soon,” whispered Slade a little nervously.
“That is of no matter. Who shall I reward for their incarceration?” Rex asked.
“No worries, matey, I tagged ‘em for you,” said a man who had been leaning against a wall.
He was seven foot tall and wore a sleeveless jacket made of alligator skin. He also wore a broad leather hat, a belt full of wicked boomerangs and a pair of long knives at his side.
“Name’s Mad Robbo. I’m a tracker, an’ I can find you anything you need. I heard you were lookin’ for a new crew,” he said with a lazy, nasal twang.
“And you found these two superheroes in the jungle? A tracker, you say?” asked Rex.
“Best tracker in the world, mate, the whole world. And I ain’t too bad with my stabbers, neither. I’d make a good Chief of Minions.”
“You caught these superheroes and took them out?”
“Sure, matey.”
“That’s not true!” yelled out a tiny woman in black who strode angrily into the room. “I did the dirty work on this job. He may have found them, but I took those heroes down, not him. I’ll tear him limb from limb, the lying son of a – oh hello, Skyre, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
The newcomer’s manner changed from super aggressive to smiling and friendly as soon as she saw Skyre. Skyre blushed slightly, but turned away and pretended to ignore the newcomer.
“Hello, Steel Samantha,” said Rex, nodding slightly in respect.
“The Steel Samantha?” asked Slade doubtfully.
Steel Samantha was something of a legendary figure amongst villains; she had served as the strongwoman for dozens of supervillains. There were hundreds of stories about the fights she had been in and the superheroes she had bested, and each sounded more outrageous than the last.
“That’s me,” she said simply.
“Wha’ happened, didja get caught in a compressin’ ray?” asked Mad Robbo.
“What? I’ll kill you!”
Steel Samantha launched herself at Mad Robbo. He whipped his knives out in the blink of an eye and stabbed her across an arm. Samantha threw him into a computer terminal, but he rolled right over it and cut Samantha’s leg. She bled blue, and her cut closed up quickly. Samantha punched Robbo in the head and he elbowed her in the neck. Minions scattered as the fight spread through the control room.
Rex watched in amusement; he liked it when henchmen felt the need to prove themselves. A computer exploded as a boomerang sliced it in two, and the room shook as Steel Samantha kicked Mad Robbo into a wall. A couple of hapless technicians were caught up in the fight and knocked roughly aside.
“Fight! Fight! Whoohooo!” called out Slade in encouragement.
Mad Robbo bounced to his feet and kicked out at Samantha’s legs. She fell over, and Mad Robbo placed a foot on her neck. She twisted and punched upwards, launching Robbo into the
roof. He hit the ground hard and moaned. She leapt onto him and put him in an arm lock.
Steel Samantha bowed to Rex and winked at Skyre.
“Good,” said Rex.
Mad Robbo pulled out a knife and pushed it up to Steel Samantha’s neck, but the blade didn’t even cut through her skin.
“Very good. I’m glad I advised Master SCREAM to help keep you out of the prisons of Venus. I think you are definitely on the short list for my new Chief of Minions, Steel Samantha,” Rex announced.
“I am the only one on your short list,” said Steel Samantha with some satisfaction.
“I will be the one who decides that,” said Rex.
“Even sharks flee when the kraken wakes, for night has many shades of terror. She’s scared off all the other applicants,” said Skyre with an apologetic shrug.
“But not you, Mad Robbo?” said Rex.
“Nah mate, I’m keener than mustard an’ tougher than a brick outhouse. Plus I heard you pay well,” said Mad Robbo.
“Drop him, Steel Samantha. I believe both of you have proven yourselves worthy of joining my cause. I enjoyed this little display of your powers, but I expect you both to work together professionally in the future. Infighting or incompetence are not acceptable behavior. This is your first warning; your second warnings will be carved into your tombstone!”
His voice boomed magnificently through the room sending lesser minions scuttling in fear. Steel Samantha and Mad Robbo nodded in agreement, happy with the arrangement. Villains respect strength, and Duke Terror’s voice was very strong indeed.
Two hours later Rex was sitting in his study with Skyre and Slade.
“So what’s with you and Steel Samantha?” Rex asked Skyre.
“Why cast our thoughts back to painful times when the present is so full of strife? All hope and love turns to dust with time, and so will you if you keep asking personal questions like that.”
“Ex–girlfriend, then? I’m still going to hire her, though. She even comes with her own team of super tough gothic soldiers.”
Skyre shrugged, but blushed again.
“What about Robbo? No-one has ever heard of him,” said Slade.
“I want to hire him as a tracker. Now… what shall we do with those two superheroes they captured?”
Captured superheroes were always a problem. It was likely they would escape given time and opportunity, so something had to be done about them. When Rex had started out as a villain he had just erased their memories and sent them home, but eventually that got boring for everyone involved. Luckily for Rex he hired some very creative people with strange senses of humor.
“Could Professor Engelmanthing and RoboRodent build a giant robot for them to fight for their freedom? That’s always fun,” suggested Slade.
“Let their hope and sanity drain in a labyrinth of doom that reflects our short and pointless lives…although I guess it would take time to build one,” said Skyre.
“Mmm… both good suggestions. Let’s erase the last day of their memories and keep them locked up for now until we can build a maze full of traps where the exit is guarded by a killer robot… and possibly some sort of mutant snakes, I would think. Make sure there are lots of cameras in the maze so we catch it all on film.”
His henchmen nodded and smiled; Rex’s total commitment to being a villain was why his team loved him and the superheroes hated him.
“Right, I’m off to see Chaotica. If I’m not back in an hour I’m either dead or at lunch, depending on her mood.”
Chaotica lived in an old paint factory that had suffered a terrible explosion. Splatters of paint covered the walls and ran across the floor, joining and merging into multicolored puddles. The top of the factory had been converted into an aviary, and Rex could hear the squawks and cries of black parrots and far stranger birds.
Rex didn’t go in right away, but opened his phone and stared at it for a long minute without moving. He hated asking for help. Eventually he hit a button. It only rang once before someone picked up.
“Someone is leaking information about me to the superheroes. I’ve already had two at my new base. Find out who it is.”
He hung up without waiting for an answer and then walked up to Chaotica’s door. A crystal bell and a metal hammer were beside the door. Rex picked up the hammer and hit the bell so hard that it cracked loudly, starting the birds off on a raucous chorus.
A second later Chaotica’s butler opened the door. He was an elderly man with a very serious demeanor that was somewhat spoilt by the bright red apple suit Chaotica made him wear.
“Good morning, sir. My mistress is not at home, but I have your krypton rod here as instructed.”
“And here are the gems,” said Rex, handing over a box.
“Very good, sir. May I assist you in any other way?”
Rex stared at the man for a moment. He was impressed by the butler’s manners, if not his dress. The League had a rule against interfering in each other’s plans, but Rex wouldn’t have been a villain if he didn’t give into temptation from time to time.
“I need a butler like you. If you ever get tired of working here, I’ll hire you for twice whatever you are getting paid now. You can even wear a normal suit, if you like.”
The butler took a step back and glared at Rex.
“Good heavens no, sir! The very thought of it! The nerve! Mistress Chaotica is an excellent employer, and I rather think the suit brings out the color of my eyes. Good day to you, sir!”
The butler slammed the door angrily. Rex smiled.
“Chaotica always gets the coolest henchmen,” he said enviously.
He carefully placed the krypton rod in a carry case. Krypton could explode if not packed correctly, but he doubted Chaotica worried about that sort of thing. He pulled Professor Engelmanthing’s list out.
“Krypton rod, check,” he said with some satisfaction.
There were only a few more items on the list. They were going to be much more difficult to find.
“But at least I know where to find a red hypertime stasis projector.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: AS IF WE NEED A REASONS TO VISIT THE WORST BAR IN LUNA CITY
Everyone has flaws, even superhumans. Learn to hide yours and exploit your enemies’.
–Rex Rogue’s guide for aspiring supervillains, unpublished.
“Jennifer Doom, we need to talk about your weakness.”
“My last name is pronounced Dome… I think it’s Maltese or something–”
“It’s not.”
“–and what are we talking about, exactly?” asked Jenny.
She wasn’t really paying much attention to Voice, but was instead watching a live TV report of Chaotica attacking the Museum of Modern Art. Jenny was also painting her nails with black nail polish, a task she found far more interesting that listening to a lecture about how to be a superhero. Nevertheless, Voice was persistent.
“Your weakness, Jennifer Doom. Every superhuman has one, and it can be used against them,” insisted Voice.
“Really?”
“Yes. This is well known in the superhuman community, but for obvious reasons they do not like it to be discussed. D-grade superhumans can often be defeated by simple things like a physical attack or guns, but more powerful superhumans can only be stopped by finding their weakness.”
“Like what?” asked Jenny as Chaotica started shooting different colors of paint at a pair of delicate wooden statues.
“Captain Amazing’s weakness is magnesium flares. They sap his strength from S-grade all the way down to C-grade.”
“I did not know that,” Jenny said with mild interest.
“He doesn’t exactly advertise it,” said Voice dryly.
“No. Hah!”
A superhero in a blue cloak was trying to stop Chaotica, but she used her powers to turn the ground below him into green goo that caught his feet and held him fast. Chaotica poured paint on his head and continued her rampage of random destruction. Jenny laughed as Chaotica tur
ned an exit sign into a sparrow, a door into a small sapling, and an old bin into an enormous gold nugget.
“Are you even listening to me, Jennifer Doom?” asked Voice with some annoyance.
“Nnnn… I mean yes, sure. What is it that you want, Voice?”
Chaotica had reached a gallery of abstract sculptures. She walked amongst them with approval, setting a few alight but leaving the rest as they were. The flames began to climb the gallery walls, but Chaotica didn’t seem concerned. Another superhero flew into the room, took one look at Chaotica, and flew right out again. Chaotica waved cheerily at a security camera as the flames started to melt paintings and warp the room’s walls. Chaotica liked fire.
“Jennifer, you need to find your weakness. We don’t want people using it against you,” insisted Voice.
“Yup.”
“So you must try and work out what it is.”
“Yup.”
“And then let me know.”
“Yu… what? Why would I do that?”
“So we can help you avoid it.”
Chaotica touched a stone sculpture of a giant ant eating a human and it came alive. The ant scuttled off in one direction and the half–eaten human ran in the other direction. In many ways it was a great improvement on the original.
“That doesn’t even make sense, why would I tell you that?” Jenny said.
“We are on your side. Can you please listen to me?” said Voice, clearly frustrated.
“Listen, sure. Trust? I don’t even know you,” said Jenny, putting the final layer of black on her smallest toe.
“You will learn to, eventually. For now at least you can trust that we pay on time. Jennifer, we have more work for you.”
“And…?”
“And I’ll write a letter to your school to get you out of maths on Friday, like I promised. Really, Jennifer–“
“–overtime as well, because it’s a weekend.”
“It is Tuesday today, Jennifer. Now, are you going to do your duty?” Voice demanded.
It was the first time that Jenny had heard Voice sounding anything other than calm, and it made her smile. She got up and pulled on a pair of jeans and a crumpled shirt.
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