Superhero Universe: Tesseracts Nineteen

by Claude Lalumiere

  Superhero Universe: Tesseracts Nineteen

  selected and edited by

  Claude Lalumière and Mark Shainblum

  Copyright © 2016

  All contributions copyright by their respective authors.

  E-Book Edition

  Published by

  EDGE Science Fiction and

  Fantasy Publishing

  An Imprint of

  HADES PUBLICATIONS, INC.

  CALGARY

  Notice

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author(s).

  * * * * *

  This book is also available in print

  * * * * *

  Contents

  Foreword: A New Universe of Canadian Superheroes

  by Claude Lalumière

  Diary of a Teenage Grizzly

  by Patrick T. Goddard

  Jessica and the True North

  by Kevin Cockle

  Pssst! Have You Heard... The Rumor?

  by D. K. Latta

  The Island Way

  by Mary Pletsch & Dylan Blacquiere

  Blunt Instruments

  by Geoff Hart

  Bloodhound

  by Marcelle Dubé

  The Jam: A Secret Bowman

  by Bernard E. Mireault

  In the Name of Free Will

  by A. C. Wise

  Nuclear Nikki versus the Magic Evil

  by Jennifer Rahn

  Spirit in the Clay

  by Bevan Thomas

  BLACK FALCON SAVES CITY, WORLD

  by Sacha A. Howells

  Bluefields Reharmony Nest

  by Kim Goldberg

  Lost and Found

  by Luke Murphy

  Crusher and Typhoon

  by Brent Nichols

  Black Sheep

  by Jason Sharp

  Midnight Man versus Doctor Death

  by Chadwick Ginther

  SÜPER

  by Corey Redekop

  Bedtime for Superheroes

  by Leigh Wallace

  A Hole Lotta Trouble: A Tale in Five Voices

  by David Perlmutter

  The Rise and Fall of Captain Stupendous

  by P. E. Bolivar

  Friday Nights at the Hemingway

  by Arun Jiwa

  Apollo and Greta

  by Evelyn Deshane

  In the Kirby Krackle

  by John Bell

  A Week in the Superlife

  by Alex C. Renwick

  Change as Seen through an Orrery of Celestial Fire

  by Michael Matheson

  Afterword: The Death of the Death of the Superheroes!

  by Mark Shainblum

  * * * * *

  Foreword: A New Universe of Canadian Superheroes

  Claude Lalumière

  I first met Mark Shainblum way back in 1989, when he walked into my (now defunct) Montréal bookshop Nebula. We instantly hit it off and have stayed friends ever since, in part because of our profound but complex passions for superhero fiction, comics, SF, and, yes, Montréal (where neither of us live anymore).

  By then Mark was already an accomplished writer and publisher, having co-created the iconic superhero comics series Northguard, to name his signature work.

  Years passed. I said farewell to bookselling and started editing anthologies (and writing for them, too). One of my dream projects was to put together a Tesseracts volume dedicated to the superhero genre. I always knew I wanted Mark, one of Canada’s leading experts on this particular theme, as my co-editor, should I ever bring the idea to fruition.

  EDGE Science Fiction and Fantasy Publishing — publisher of the Tesseracts anthologies — perhaps tiring of my ceaseless pestering for this volume to happen, finally acquiesced.

  Canadian writers sent us 221 submissions, with more good superhero fiction and poetry than any one volume could contain. Mark and I read and debated and reread and debated some more… until we narrowed down our selections to these twenty-five texts.

  Within these pages are superheroic scenarios unfolding all over the Canadian landscape— but our authors also let their imaginations roam beyond our borders to tap into whole universes of superhero tropes, subgenres, and archetypes.

  —Claude Lalumière

  Vancouver, BC

  April 2015

  * * *

  Claude Lalumière is the author Objects of Worship, The Door to Lost Pages, and Nocturnes and Other Nocturnes.

  Diary of a Teenage Grizzly

  Patrick T. Goddard

  Dear Claude and Mark,

  Sorry I couldn’t come up with something new for your anthology. But I remembered telling Claude at a party once that I’d been a teen superhero in the 1980s. I dug up my diary from 1983, when I’d just gotten my powers and Calgary was turning into the epicenter of superheroic Canada. The Time Crash of ‘86 retbombed our powers, but words on paper somehow always manage to survive these crises…

  * * *

  Saturday, September 10, 1983

  Dear Diary,

  This summer, I got a chance to start fresh. We got posted from Edmonton to Calgary,* which I was very glad for. Shortly after moving in, we took our holidays in the Rockies. I sort of enjoyed myself, except for having to deal with my brothers. I went for a long walk by myself and got lost. I found a bear cub, and I knew to be careful, except that he looked like he was hurt. I got closer, and that’s when I heard a big roar and before I could run away there was a giant grizzly bear in my way. Then I don’t remember anything. It was weird that I didn’t wake up in the hospital or something, because I guess I got attacked. But I was okay. Except for the fact that I didn’t have any clothes, they were all torn up on the ground.

  When I got back, there were Mounties all around. I’d been missing for three days! Mom & Dad were really worried, of course. But I didn’t want to answer a bunch of questions. I didn’t even know what had happened! I was just really, really hungry. I got very upset and then I just stood up and roared! Everyone was scared. I had turned into a grizzly bear! All I wanted to do was eat something. My mom calmed everyone down (she’s a nurse, so she’s good at that), and then she calmed me down, and then I turned back into Patrick. It was really weird.

  School started last Tuesday. The bus dropped me off about ten blocks from my new school, Notre Dame, which is downtown.** It’s a Catholic school, so we have Religion for homeroom. They gave us a New Testament on the first day. I sing in the church choir on base and I do the Readings sometimes, so I already know a lot of it. I think Jesus would have been a good superhero if he had fought the Romans instead of being crucified.

  Mom and Dad don’t want me hurting or scaring anyone, so I have to go to this school to learn how to control my powers. My class is 8X. So far school is all right. The only thing that peeves me is that we have to take extra classes because of our powers, so we don’t get options, like Music or Drama.

  Anyway, remember how I swore I’d never repeat “the Chantal Syndrome”? Well, there’s this girl called Michelle. She’s fairly short, and has blond hair, and… well, I can’t exactly put it on paper. But I saw her on the first day and she had
a cold and I wished she was in my class and she was.

  * My father was in the Army, which made me an Army brat. This was my eighth move in thirteen years.

  ** Normally I would have gone to Sir Samuel Steele Junior High, on base, but it didn’t have an X program. Besides Notre Dame, only North West Academy offered superneeds classes, but it was private and we couldn’t afford it. A couple of my classmates left Notre Dame for North West and joined the T-Force in grade 9. I hated those guys even before I found out they were funded by the Think Tank.

  Monday, September 12, 1983

  Today has not been that great. Religion was boring, as usual. We’re always talking about Great Responsibility. The teacher is, anyway.* It was in that class that another thing about Michelle came to my attention: her voice. It’s so-o-o tiny! I mean, you can barely hear her, except when she’s not in class, strangely enough. It’s like a version of my particular type of schizophrenia. I’m grim and studious in school, and at home I’m the opposite. Anyway, at lunch, I was in the library sitting by myself and doing my work when those troublemakers, the Sick Six, came in. They annoyed me so much I barely managed to stay in Patrick-form!

  * Since homeroom was also our Religion class, every teacher was potentially a Religion teacher. Ours that year was also our French teacher. None of my teachers were nuns or priests, except for Brother Jakob, who was a Jesuit and taught Language Arts. They all must have known that we had superpowers, but not all of them acknowledged it openly. They also had to teach the rest of the school. Some of them made a real point of not giving us special treatment, even while they had to follow the special lesson plan they were given. It was very slapdash and patchwork.

  Tuesday, September 13, 1983

  When I got to school this morning, one of the first things I did was get out my drawing equipment. I started drawing and reluctantly attracted a crowd. After having my binder passed around for a while, I got nervous, so I took it back and went to class. Religion period was stupid! We had to find twenty-five good points about one supervillain— in my case, the Black Angel.* How dumb! Then we found out that we had no choice in going to Weapons Shop or Costuming. All the guys had to go to Shop! Talk about reverse chauvinism! Lunch period finally rolled around, and as usual I went to the library to do my work. In Danger Gym that afternoon, I learned — the hard way — that Mr. Bentley really was the Drillmaster!**

  * The original Masked Marvel’s WWII arch-villainess, a homegrown Nazi who went to prison after the war and disappeared. I wish I could remember what I’d written! I remember mentioning that she had nice hair, like an opera valkyrie.

  ** Some teachers had genuine connections to the super-world. Bentley had the ability to not only imitate the powers he could see but also transmit them through some kind of low-level telepathy. Acrobatess told me he’d tried out for the Action Gang in ‘76, while he was at university, but they turned him down (even though he was a friend of her brother, Acrobatic Lad). They did keep the Drillmaster on for some of their training sessions, but after Acrobatic Lad was killed in ‘77, Bentley went back to school and became a Phys. Ed. teacher.

  Wednesday, September 14, 1983

  At school, waiting for first bell, I got out my book and read. After about twenty minutes I left my spot because of the crowd. I can’t stand it; I feel crushed by the people around me, but I don’t want it to make me transform. At lunch, in the library, I did my Special Studies homework.* Amazingly, five of the girls from my class were there! They’re almost never in the library! Even with my resolution not to repeat “the Chantal Syndrome,” I find myself daydreaming about Michelle.

  * Special Studies was where we learned superhero history. But our teacher was incredibly lame and had no idea what he was talking about. In grade 9, he became our French teacher, which he was also terrible at. I think you can understand why a bunch of us might go off on our own to try to get our superheroic education from actual superheroes.

  Thursday, September 15, 1983

  Last night, I once again dreamed of Michelle. God help me. This is exactly what happened with last year’s “Chantal Syndrome,” but I can’t help it. In fact, about the only thing I can do is not tell Michelle how I feel.

  Let’s skip ahead to lunch hour. I was sitting quietly, doing my English homework, when a horde of guys came in, most prominent among them were Stephen, vice-president candidate, and Jimmy, his campaign manager. They were putting “Vote for Stephen” cards and stickers all over the place! They were annoying me so much, but I didn’t want to turn into the Grizzly.*

  After the last bell, Michelle asked what the homework assignments were. I listed them off, just like that (sound of snapping fingers)! Michelle retorted with a friendly, “You really are a brain, aren’t you?” Then she asked me if we had Danger Gym the next day. I didn’t know (we did, though). Touché!

  * They weren’t annoying me on purpose. We all knew everyone’s powers and weaknesses from Religion class, and on the whole my classmates were fairly sympathetic to my condition.

  Friday, September 16, 1983

  Today was a strange day. I ate and went to the library to do my Math homework. But I couldn’t because the library was closed. I wouldn’t let a little thing like that stop me from doing my homework, so I got my things and went outside. I finished my Math homework and got back to reading Our Multiverse.* These two girls came by and started reading over my shoulder. I left immediately and found a nice cool spot to be alone, but the two girls followed me. They said they were in 9X, and that they were, respectively, the smartest girl in the world and the best athlete, and then they left. Thank goodness.** Also today, we had our photos taken. Everyone was really dolled up, but to me it was Michelle who was most beautiful. She has to wear the same bracelets all the time, because they give her her powers and she says they won’t come off, but she always makes them look different. Well, last class was English, which was just a reading period. But Brother Jakob gave us detention anyway! On the way out, I remarked to Michelle, “Sometimes I think I’ll never get used to you civvies.”*** She then said, “I’ve been a civvy all my life.” That ended the conversation.

  * Our Multiverse was a big color hardcover with painted renditions of the home planets of all the known alien worlds, subatomic realms, weird dimensions, and alternate timelines. I was one of the rare kids in school who checked it out. Most of this material was public knowledge, but we lived in Alberta, where even history teachers could deny the Holocaust. I found out from Tyrannus, who was in high school when I met him during the third Borgni invasion, that Alberta schools taught the Parallel Earth history where the USA won the War of 1812. It just goes to show how people pick and choose the science they “believe in.”

  ** This wouldn’t be my last encounter with Miss Mind and Maiden Might. There’s a stereotype of Bad Catholic School Girls, but they didn’t really fit the trope. For one thing, we didn’t have uniforms. For another, they weren’t really bad girls: they just used me as a foil to play at being supervillains while they were still in junior high (which, in Alberta, goes to grade 9). They ditched their careers right after the Think Tank tried to recruit them. They went off to high school, and I never saw them again. Which I still kind of regret. But being a teenage weregrizzly, and a Catholic one at that, meant reining everything in.

  *** The civilian world is called Civvy Street by military folk. As I found out later, certain super-types use the word “civilian” like carnies used the word “rube.”

  Monday, September 19, 1983

  After lunch today, we had a special “Powers and the Law” class.* The best part was that we missed Special Studies! Hurray! One of the high points of the day was talking to Michelle. I think we’re really opening up a line of communication, which is good. I seem to be able to make her laugh fairly easily. After “Powers and the Law,” I again joked with Shel — that’s what I call her now — about civvies, at which she and Beth laughed. I really think that Shel and I are gonna be at least good friends.

  * T
his was just before Mulroney created his agency to monitor all of the superheroes and split the Action Gang into East and West, basically forcing the team to open a Calgary HQ. We never had anything like the US Mutant Registration Act in Canada, but we didn’t need to. The Mounties had files on all of us, using laws that went back to the Communist witch-hunt and World War One, when “aliens” meant Eastern Europeans. The next year, when I got the invitation from the Action Gang join the A. G. West, I never for a second questioned how they got my phone number. I assumed it was either because they were superheroes or because I had a military family, or a little of both.

  Tuesday, September 20, 1983

  We held a special Mass to start the year.* Boy, some of these guys are really rude. Nick and Jeff were bugging each other when they were doing the Readings. Talk about idiots! It was even the parable of the sower, where Jesus says, “Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear.” All afternoon I was bored, except during Danger Gym, which was fun.

  * Notre Dame Cathedral was just down 18th Avenue SW from us, separating Notre Dame Junior and Senior. Notre Dame Senior High was a completely normal school. The entire “X” class was being phased out: in 1983-84, 7X was gone, and we would be the last special students at Notre Dame. Either they were phasing out the program because the teachers were so awful or they gave us the worst teachers because they were cancelling the program.

  Wednesday, September 21, 1983

  In Language Arts class, I noticed Michelle repeatedly staring at me. This continued through to lunchtime. She was staring at me! I don’t believe it!

  Thursday, September 22, 1983

  At lunch, as usual, I went to the library. Michelle was, strangely enough, also in the library. Miracle! Miracle! I couldn’t believe it. I was shaken. I was stunned.

  For a while I thought she was eyeing Brad, but that was just paranoia. After gym class, Shel talked with Jimmy. But the expression on their faces gave it away. They didn’t look so happy-go-lucky, as they usually did. They seemed dead serious, something I’d never seen in either of them. I deduced that Michelle likes Jimmy. What else could it be? It sure makes me feel rotten, especially with the dance next Friday.