Fid's Crusade

by David Reiss

  “I will. And I'm sorry.”

  “Thank you. It's 'cause of Danny that I'm here, actually.” His irascible smile seemed forced. “Him and the whiskey, of course.”

  I poured him another glass. “How so?”

  “Six months before...Six months before he died, Danny was part of a DARPA experiment. You familiar with brain-taping?”

  “I am,” I nodded. “They took a full recording?”

  “Ayup. All his memories, everything he'd ever thought, everything he was...backed up on a stack of hard drives.” His voice cracked, and he took another drink. “Just gathering dust right now.”

  “How can I help?” I refilled my own drink, brows furrowed in thought.

  “You're making a new body for your ward,” his eyes were glassy with longing and tentative hope. “Can you make one for my grandson?”

  I considered for only a moment. “Yes. I think that I can.”

  This wasn't the best time to commit to new projects...but I couldn't say 'no'. I might have been a monster, but I wasn't the sort of monster who could deny a mourning grandfather. And besides...one never knew when an indebted United States senator might come in handy.

  “Well,” he said, voice shaking, and I thought for a moment that he was going to cry. “Let's drink to that.”

  We did.

  “Now, it won't just be a body,” I warned. “A reactivated brain-tape needs to run on a full neurally-linked server farm. It won't be cheap.”

  “Son, I may not be the crookedest politician in Washington, but I've been a senator for three decades. Twelve years of that was on the Appropriations Committee,” he smirked, and suddenly seemed years younger than he'd looked when I'd met him at the door. “I've put some money away. You just tell me where to send the check.”

  ◊◊◊

  **Did you hear all that?** I asked Whisper via the neural tap. Outside, I could hear her laughing as she chased after Dinah's playful puppy.

  **Mm!** she affirmed cheerfully. **I'm going to get a new brother!**

  **He already has brothers,** I chided, sending a mental chuckle. **You can't just adopt him because he'll be running on the server farm next door.**

  **Can!** she disagreed, and I felt her smile across the link. **I like having a big brother. Having two might be even better!**

  **Silly girl,** I laughed silently. **When you've finished tiring that poor dog out, come up to keep us company while we eat. Bring Aaron and Dinah, I'd like for them to meet the senator.**

  **Mm!**

  ◊◊◊

  The conversation with the senator ebbed and flowed; we talked specifics about the technology involved, about time-lines, about raising kids and about the upcoming legislation.

  (“I won't let this one go. This one'll pass if I have to call in every favor I ever earned. I'll get your girl the rights she deserves. And someday, my boy Danny'll be a senator too.”)

  We ate dinner, and the Senator's aid did, in fact, do his level best to defeat my caterers. He was unsuccessful, but it was a worthy effort. Whisper introduced her doll, Amelia, to the aging politician and the senator told stories about raising children of his own.

  I wanted to be present when the android body hosting Danny McClelland's mind opened its eyes. I wanted to watch the Senator hold his grandson for the first time in a decade.

  I wanted this world to survive.

  It was irksome, the strange and unwelcome realization that I was being forced to think like a hero…but talking with Senator McClelland had reminded me that my current undertaking was no longer a contest between myself and Sphinx. It wasn’t even a battle between Doctor Fid and the Legion! This was the world’s fight and I was simply acting as the planet’s proxy. I was acting on behalf of parents and grandparents and little girls and enthusiastic puppies and everyone else who had their own life-stories that had nothing to do with capes and explosions and pulsed laser cannons.

  Keeping this war to myself was selfish. I was claiming the role of champion without allowing the world opportunity to participate! Pure hubris. And yet, the Sphinx had done the same. My egotism, at least, had a better excuse: I was Doctor Fid! Megalomania was expected from a supervillain of my stature.

  Bah and humbug. Giving Sphinx her comeuppance would, at least, be a welcome bonus.

  Terry Markham arranged to ‘work from home’ for a few days to better oversee the ongoing activity, and secret bank-accounts that had long been isolated (in order to hide their existence from the Red Ghost's financial wizardry) were opened so that even more funds could be applied towards expediting construction.

  In the end, all that I needed was time.

  ◊◊◊

  I'd run out of time.

  One of my working teleportation devices was located in a Brooklyn storage facility; it was wide enough, just barely, that I could don the Mk 35 in Boston and be transported instantaneously to the platform in New York City. The larger heavy-combat drones were too broad to fit in the transportation field, so I'd already started their journey towards the battle at maximum thrust. They wouldn't arrive on-site for nearly a half-hour, but a swarm of medium combat drones would be able to accompany the Mk 35 into combat.

  But first, I needed to put the finishing touches on the new orichalcum-framed warstaff. Five minutes of effort, and then I'd be able to launch.

  “-three, no, four members of the New York Shield appear to be incapacitated.” The reporter spoke at an even pace, though stress was audible in her voice. Some of the explosions seemed dangerously close and the camera caught debris being thrown in the background. “The Brooklyn Knights have been continuing their attack on the Mercer-Tallon building but have repeatedly been rebuffed by a heavily armed security force. Other heroes have been joining into the chaos, and we've seen several instances of long-time friends changing sides in the conflict without warning. Psion, leader of the Brooklyn Knights, was overheard warning about telepathic mind-control.”

  “Is there any word on the death toll?” a voice from the studio asked.

  “No word yet. Several bystanders were caught up in the initial assault, but Haste carried the wounded to nearby hospitals. We haven't heard any more on that story. Oh! It looks as though Wildcard of the Brooklyn Knights is down, clawed across the back by his own teammate! Vic, can you get a better camera angle?”

  “That looks like Wildcard is badly injured.”

  “It does look pretty bad, Tom. Sphinx and Majestic are now trying to restrain the White Tigress but are being driven back by focused fire from the building. It's unknown how large the Mercer-Tallon security force is, but we've seen dozens of fighters incapacitated already. There seems to be no end in sight.”

  The report continued, describing an ever-escalating battle royal; New York City had the largest population of superheroes in the nation, and with every new combatant came additional opportunities for the Legion to take mental control of a fighter and add to the pandemonium.

  With some level of schadenfreude, I noticed that Peregrine had been among the first heroes downed. Good!

  I had tracked the Legion officers to the Mercer-Tallon soon after my sensors had been deployed; how the Brooklyn Knights discovered the Legion's lair, I had no idea. Presumably, they’d continued investigating after our most recent discussion...and somehow intuited that the Legion was here on Earth. Sphinx had shown up to dissuade them from attacking the Mercer-Tallon building and events quickly spiraled out of control.

  **Whisper, honey?** I called, mentally. **I'm going to need some help.**

  **...'kay.** Her fear was audible but her desire to help was stronger. Brave girl!

  **How many packages are ready for shipment?** I asked, beginning to close up the warstaff.

  **Twenty-seven.**

  That...wasn't ideal. I’d hoped to have twice that many before deployment. Still, odds were good that amount would be sufficient. My calculations had originally indicated that twenty-four would be the bare minimum to achieve success, but a broad safety margin would have
been preferable. If only we'd had another week!

  **I'm going to need you to take care of delivery. Can you do that?** I asked gently.

  **Mm,** She affirmed.

  **Keep one unit here,** I reminded her. **We're probably going to need it.**

  **I know!** Whisper sounded irritable and scared. Both emotions were understandable.

  **Sweetheart, I'm going to be fine,** I tried to reassure us both as I pulled on my padded under-armor and prepared to climb into the Mk 35. **This is just a bit earlier than I would have liked.**

  **Why do you have to go?** she asked tremulously. **There're so many heroes there.**

  **The heroes are losing. One at a time, they are being whittled down.** I looked up at the news program, still broadcasting the carnage. Sphinx and Majestic had managed to subdue White Tigress, and immediately afterwards a Legion officer had taken control of Majestic; the Shield powerhouse had grievously injured two heroes before being taken down himself…and the cycle was continuing.

  It should have been taking longer. According to the sensor readings that I’d gathered, there were dozens of low-powered Legion spies scattered throughout the region but only five officers with sufficient power to control a human mind remained on Earth. And they could each control only one person at a time. I’d run simulations, and the heroes were being whittled away faster even than my worst-case scenarios.

  It was the security forces that were accounting for the Legion’s increased effectiveness, adding to the confusion and delaying the heroes’ approach just enough to allow the officer’s tactics better opportunities for success. In all my research, I hadn't seen even a scintilla of evidence that the Legion had hired so many mercenaries. How they had attracted such a sizable force of loyal followers was beyond me. Surrounded by an unprecedentedly large company of heroes, one would expect at least a few mercenaries to lose morale and flee; but no, the gunmen held their ground and coordinated their efforts professionally.

  **Someone needs to keep the Legion officers busy until everything is in place,** I continued. **If they get a warning out...**

  **Okay. Okay,** she said softly. **Just...Please come home.**

  **I will, sweetheart. I promise.**

  And then I carefully put Terry Markham away.

  As super-heroic reinforcements continued to pour onto the scene, mid-town Manhattan was rapidly becoming a war-zone. If the conflict continued to escalate, it would soon become the greatest concentration of superhuman might in human history. There was no place for a painfully lonely academic in the battle ahead, nor was there room for a businessman or even a big brother.

  The massive Mk 35 heavy combat armor closed around me and Doctor Fid was all that remained.

  ◊◊◊

  Cloaked and unnoticed, I took a moment to observe from above.

  The Mercer-Tallon building had been well chosen for defense; twenty stories of crisply-delineated trapezoidal columns that framed narrow windows that served almost like arrowslits in ancient castles. The armed guards could fire through those slim apertures at an invading force while protected by almost a foot of concrete. Mirrored glass allowed shooters to shift from location to location without their position being revealed, and what looked to be a structural integrity field generator enhanced the natural strength of the steel-reinforced building.

  The courtyard, too, was a kill-zone. There was open space separating the Mercer-Tallon building from its neighbors, with the ornate wrought-iron and stone fences that were originally intended to direct traffic also serving to control an attacker’s approach. Intruders on foot were funneled into regions where the defenders had a clear line of fire.

  I maintained stealth protocols until the last moment, then commanded my medium-duty combat drones to light up the heavens. Plasma and energy filled the sky, arcing from drone to drone in a chaotic chain, crackling with raw power and cutting vast swaths through the battle’s smoke.

  Doctor Fid appeared over the combat zone, wreathed in lightning and thunder and primal rage.

  The heroes’ response was immediate and chaotic. Some scrambled away like roaches seeking cover when the light-switch is flipped. Others ignored the threat from Legion fighters and mind-controlled heroes, and instead immediately turned their attacks upon me: a blast of flame from the Beacon, a thrown streetlamp from Sphinx, and countless energy bolts of various flavors. Ms. Magma called forth a high-pressure stream of lava that exploded from a rupture in the earth, splattering off the Mk 35’s surface like water.

  I let the initial attacks wash over me, arms wide at my side and chin lifted as though accepting applause. For a moment, I felt invulnerable; a god striding among ants. The Mk 35 had withstood the full force of Valiant’s blows! What threat could these lesser so-called ‘heroes’ present? Their strikes were like a feather’s touch and I would brush them aside like gnats.

  Warnings began streaming into my consciousness via the neural tap almost immediately.

  An energy field designed to dissipate the force of one or two extraordinary impacts was apparently not equally suited to protect against dozens of smaller simultaneous attacks. I bit back a curse and dove into the fray. My medium-duty combat drones dropped down to Earth and I slid among them, dodging smoothly and taking cover as my own defenses recalibrated.

  The Legion's armed guards had focused their fire upon me and had nearly burned through my shield in moments.

  And so, I ducked and evaded, attacked and countered. I bent under an energy blast from Psion, dodged a boulder thrown by Brute (what was he doing in New York?), and launched a low-yield particle blast at the ground beneath Lariat's feet; the rope-wielding heroine was knocked backwards into Haste's path and both became comically tied up.

  By some random chance, the remaining active members of the Boston Guardians were apparently visiting New York as well. They'd always had the odd luck of being nearby when a major event loomed. Whatever mystic energies empowered Titan must also inflict strange effects upon his fate.

  Aeon summoned one of her milky-white force-field spheres around one of my drones, isolating it and leaving a gap in my defenses for Veridian to capitalize upon. The powerful emerald blast was insufficient to cause damage, but it did drive me away from cover and I took another hit from a plasma cannon.

  I shifted more power to shields and launched sonic attacks in return. Not powerful enough to incapacitate...merely temporarily stun.

  Majestic had recovered but was apparently still under the direction of a Legion officer; he picked up a smaller man in an insect-themed costume (the hero must have been new; image recognition found no information at all) and threw him at me like a bullet.

  In combat, time seems to move differently. I had time to watch the inexperienced hero's eyes widen with fear, watch his lips pull back as he tried to scream. If I'd done nothing, the result would have been predictably messy...but I would not have taken any personal damage. Instead, I temporarily extended the shape of my inertia-dampening field to form a cushion of air to stop the bug-man's trajectory.

  Titan struck me square upon my back with a flagpole.

  The extraordinary orichalcum alloy armor was undamaged, but my body encased within was not quite so enduring; my breath was slammed from my lungs with such force that it tasted metallic. I tasked two drones to focus their ire upon the Guardians' leader and I focused purely upon defense while my armor’s systems recovered.

  More heroes were on their feet now than had been present when I'd arrived. Wildcard appeared to have chosen healing as one of his powers this afternoon; I saw him press his hand to a wounded heroine's shoulder and, after a brief flash of light, she smiled gratefully and shot towards the Mercer-Tallon building. Behind my faceless mask, I smiled. That was perfect.

  The medium-grade combat drones could not long stand up to the pounding that they were receiving, but for now they were performing adequately. I launched a powerful blast of ionic energies towards the Legion's headquarters. The building's force-field deflected the strike, but t
he light show drew some attention back to the alien stronghold and away from myself.

  The Mk 35's enhanced optics caught a clear view of one of the Legion's soldiers through one of the broken windows: Human and short, with broad shoulders and a bit of a paunch. A memory struck me, of good beer and bad jokes and a strange evening at Lassiter's Den. The comedian that I'd suspected of being Cloner! And thus, the mystery of the unexpected mercenary army was solved.

  One of the Legion officers must have been controlling Cloner, granting the aliens access to an effectively infinitely large defense force. On the one hand this meant that the Mercer-Tallon security force represented an increased threat. On the other hand, it meant that I didn't need to hold back when counter-sniping. I generally tried to avoid unnecessary casualties, but in this case...as long as one Cloner survived, there was no true harm in wreaking havoc.

  And havoc was the order of the day. I threw a few more plasma blasts at the building; they weren't particularly effective, but the splattering energies were visually stunning.

  If the goal had been to overcome the Legion officers’ defenses, I would have stayed aloft and rained destruction from above; the building's fortifications were decent, but the foundation could have been shaken apart with sufficient force. And it certainly wasn't my goal to incapacitate any of the assembled heroes! I needed them active, to keep the Legion officers intent upon the combat in front of their lair.

  Before I'd arrived, the math had favored a speedy victory for the Legion. The army of Cloner would likely have picked off only a few of an approaching force of spandex-clad champions, but when three heroes fell under the Legion officers' control, the remaining forces would fall upon them and quickly render them unable to continue battling. Perhaps one or two of the heroes would also be injured or taken out in the process simply by virtue of surprise. Thus, the Legion would have forced the heroes to reduce their own numbers until active free minds were outnumbered by mind-controlled puppets.

  I was here to interfere, a third party that both forces would consider a threat, dividing their attacks and slowing the rate at which the heroes were depleted; buying time, while an adorable artificial sentience prepared the real assault! Speaking of...