by Matt Adams
“If this were 2006, this would be a supercomputer,” Warren Senior laments. “Warren and I will need some time to get this system up and running.”
“Time isn’t exactly our best buddy,” I remind him.
“It shouldn’t take too long—we already have limited internet access. I’ll work through some backdoors and see if we can get some TV streams up and running.”
“I would love to do something about that godawful CRT monitor,” Warren says, pointing at my father’s wall-size display. “But I guess it’s what we’ve got.”
“We’ll be able to get some more processing muscle out of it,” the Comet insists. “Speaking of muscle, Falcon Gray, would you mind moving this table closer to the server relay over there?”
“I will do it. Proudly,” the birdman says, flapping his wings.
“Let’s give them some space,” Jaci suggests, marshaling the rest of us into the media room. “Seems like a nice place.” She floats up to reach a ceiling fan and blows at one of the blades. The effort rewards her with a cloud of dust. “At least it was a long time ago.”
“This was our home, Jaci,” my mother says. She leans against a wall for support. “This was our home. My God, when your father told me it was destroyed, I just accepted it; what else could I do? But now we’re here… and it’s gone.”
“It’s not a happy place,” I tell her.
“It was a happy place for me, Chris. Family dinners, school projects, the occasional garage sale. All that’s left is his silly lab and the damn flatscreen he paid way too much for.”
The lights flicker for a second. “I don’t think it works anymore.”
“We had a movie marathon down here one weekend,” my mother recalls. “Your father was away. Do you remember that?”
“We watched Star Wars on VHS.”
“You were so excited about those new movies coming out. How were they?”
The real answer should be something about soulless CG-heavy monstrosities with terrible acting that managed to take the magic out of lightsabers and the Force. Instead, I say, “They were all right.”
My mother puts a hand over her mouth. “I… I need some air.” She’s gone in a flash.
“We should go after her,” Jaci says. “It’s not safe.” She starts to follow, but Crossworld grabs her. She touches me on the shoulder, and all three of us end up outside.
Miss Lightspeed is nowhere to be found.
“Where did she go?” Jaci asks.
Before I can answer, Crossworld points at a dark shape in the distance. I’ve seen enough alien invasion movies to know it’s a ship. Crossworld rubs at her neck until she reveals a silver control box, which she had somehow hidden. “I’m sorry, Chris. I thought we had more time. I really did. My teleportation throws off their tracking measures, but only for a few minutes. If I keep moving, they can’t find me.”
Crossworld disappears, leaving Jaci and me standing in the dead grass at the spot where my home used to be.
“We’d better go track down my mother. I think I know where she is.”
When we find her, she’s standing in front of her own tombstone.
“We can’t stay out here,” I say. “The Kiltechs were tracking Crossworld. It’s safer underground until we get our bearings.”
My mother doesn’t turn away. “Beloved wife and mother,” she says, reading the epitaph. “Is that the truth?”
“It’s the truth. Let get going,” I urge. “We can discuss this later.”
“I don’t want to discuss it later. I want to discuss it now,” she insists, turning toward me. “You don’t understand what it’s like. One moment, I’m fighting against Zeus Caesar. Then…black. The next second, I’m fighting him again and there are two Colonel Chaoses. More than a decade has passed. I find my home is gone. I don’t know my husband. I don’t know my son. I know who they are, but I don’t know what they’ve become.
“And the Heroic Legion treats me like a mascot. When it’s convenient, they let me speak in public and tell the people this lie that I was in suspended animation for all those years due to the injuries a suffered in the battle with Zeus Caesar. When someone actually needs help, they won’t let me go.” She shakes her head and sighs, a heartbreaking sound. “Sometimes I have blackouts and could swear it’s 1985 and your father and I just completed Operation Save Christmas. The next moment, I’m fighting the Heroic Legion’s idiotic ban on female members and blasting Colonel Chaos as a dangerous supervillain.”
“Medical said it would take some time,” I say, trying to soothe her.
“If the wiring’s any good, three years should be more than enough time.”
“Karen, you’ve experienced incredible trauma,” Jaci says comfortingly. “Someone’s consciousness isn’t meant to be stored in a madman’s mind and then transferred to a different body. Three years may not be long enough. Maybe there’s never ‘enough time.’”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Miss Lightspeed whispers. “What if I’m never fixed? What if I’m always this way?”
“Don’t talk like that. You remember that poem? The one you read to me as a kid?” I say.
My mother shrugs. “I read to you a lot when you were a boy. Different books, different stories. Picture books, chapter books, the occasional comic book.” She frowns. “Maybe too many comic books.”
“I remember one in particular that seems applicable. It was by a guy named Henley.”
Recognition flashes across Miss Lightspeed’s face. “You’re talking about ‘Invictus.’”
“Do you remember the last lines?”
My mother looks toward the sky as if trying to will the verse out of her mind. “‘I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.’”
“That’s the one,” I say. “Things happen in life, bad things. We can’t control them, but we can control how we react to them.” I feel like I’m mothering my mom, and have to close my eyes.
“What Chris is trying to say is that you can’t give up. Don’t let your condition define who you are,” Jaci adds. “There is a place for Miss Lightspeed in this world.”
My mother looks again at her tombstone, resolve burning in her eyes. “They haven’t put me under yet. Let’s see what the Comets have found out.” She rockets into the sky. I follow on foot, Jaci in the air.
Rock of Aegis
“We’ve just about got everything online,” the Crusading Comet reports when we return. “We’re starting to get some information from the datastream now. We’ve also fully stabilized the power grid.” To prove his point, my father’s lab comes to life with pulsating computer displays, electronic hums, and tasteful track lighting.
“It’s hard to know if the news reports are accurate,” he says, pointing to a map from the World News Today website. “But I’m betting the information is more reliable than anything we read while the Common Wealth was in charge.”
The map shows large, triangular ships positioned over some of the world’s largest cities: Shanghai, New York, Chicago, London, Paris, Moscow, and many more.
“Indianapolis. Charming,” I say.
“My guess is Colonel Chaos’s inflated sense of the Midwest’s importance influenced that,” the Comet says.
“We’re light years behind the rest of the country when it comes to mass transit, but we’re Johnny-on-the-spot for an alien invasion. You can’t make this stuff up,” I sigh.
“Look at the headline,” Miss Lightspeed says. “‘First Contact: Heroic Legion welcomes new visitors with open arms.’ And then there’s the subheadline: ‘Aliens set out to prove they’re not the Kiltechs.’”
“Sounds like the Kiltechs aren’t calling themselves ‘Kiltechs’ anymore,” Jaci muses. Her eyes scan the screen. “They’re calling themselves ‘Aegis.’”
“Don’t tell me people are going to buy that,” I mutter. “These are the same beings that destroyed California.”
The lab falls silent as my teammates remember, and mourn.
“They�
��re moving faster than I expected,” the Comet says at last. “I thought they’d play this one closer to the vest.”
“Chris! Look!” Jaci exclaims, pointing at the World News Today homepage. “It just refreshed.”
Miss Lightspeed has the honor of reading the latest headline. “‘Chaos Conspiracy: Leaders for Aegis show Legion new information about West Coast Massacre.’”
“They’re saying Colonel Chaos destroyed California,” Jaci says, disbelief ringing through her words. “They’re denying any involvement.”
“That’s impossible!” Falcon Gray caws. “I saw their evil rain down from the heavens. When it was over, many in the nest had died.”
“A lot of family there, Big Bird?” I ask.
He narrows his coal-black bird eyes. “All are family, Road Runner.”
News flash! Falcon Gray has a sense of humor. Meep, meep!
“These guys are shameless. They’ve already got the High Imperator. Shouldn’t that be enough?” I ask.
“Your father is also in custody now,” my mother reminds me. “He needs our help.”
A beep sounds from the Comet’s computer array.
“I don’t want to alarm anyone,” he says. “But I think you need to see this.”
He points to the online map showing the locations of Kiltech ships. “I’m using satellite data to account for the Kiltech ships. It seems World News Today is only telling part of the story.”
“Dear God,” Jaci breathes as the display turns from less than a dozen ships to an entire fleet blanketing the entire world. “They’re everywhere.”
“They’ve been planning this for a long time,” Warren says.
The Crusading Comet limps away from his gigantic computer display and leans against a wall. “They’ve been at it for years while our attention was focused elsewhere. Rebuilding. Trying Colonel Chaos. Re-ratifying the Constitution. Chasing after the Clermont escapees.”
“Now they’ve taken over the Legion,” I say.
“The Legion appointed a provisional government, but they can easily disband it,” the Comet continues. “It’s what your father did when the Kiltechs invaded. He dissolved the government and took complete control. Everyone followed him.”
“That wasn’t my father,” I remind the hero. “That was a power-drunk madman who looked like my father.”
Warren stands. “You can argue all you want, Chris. Your father caused all of this. He created the rift that brought his evil twin here. He brought Miss Lightspeed back to life. He founded the New World Common Wealth.”
“Warren, I get it. I expect you to take your father’s side on this. That’s fine,” I say.
“I’d expect you to take your father’s side,” the kid shoots back. Even in his formidable Crusading Comet garb, I can see the Once and Future Crusading Comet who’s trying to find his purpose in life.
“Don’t make this about sides and division,” my mother says. “That’s what the Kiltechs are counting on. They want division, they want confusion. They want us to fight among ourselves.”
“Our list of allies grows thin, Karen,” the Comet replies. “They’ve got the Legion in their back pocket, whether willingly or not. I don’t know what to think about our international allies.”
“Our friends abroad resisted the New World Common Wealth even after the original Kiltech Incursion,” Miss Lightspeed reminds us. “We can always hope they’ll do the right thing again this time.”
“That’s your big idea?” Warren protests. “You want us to ‘hope’ this works out okay?”
My mother crosses her arms. “That is not what I meant.”
The tension in the room grips everyone except Falcon Gray, who looks like he wants someone to feed him a cracker.
“Might I suggest extending a wing of peace toward the Champions of Justice?” the birdman asks.
Wing of peace? Is this guy for real?
“Their worldview skews a little from our own,” I say. “They’d love to see Colonel Chaos back in charge of the world. They actually thought the New World Common Wealth was a fan-friggin’-tastic idea.”
Warren Senior waves my objection off with his good arm. “The Champions of Justice are no friends of mine, I assure you. But we do share the same goals, do we not?”
“I guess so. The Champions always do exactly the opposite of what the Legion wants. And since the Legion’s working with the Kiltechs now, well, I guess the Champions would be working against them,” I admit begrudgingly. Seriously, the idea of consulting former Enforcers makes me want to stick a particle buster—a red one—right up my nose.
Jaci bites her lower lip, an old nervous habit. “I don’t know about this. They’re Colonel Chaos loyalists who love nothing more than taking the Legion down a peg. Each time the Legion tries to do something, they fall over themselves to get to the front of the line to criticize it. And they’re full of ex-Enforcers.”
“You used to be an Enforcer,” Warren says. “You’re not evil.”
Jaci’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t have a choice, Warren. It’s not like I had a penthouse where I could hide and play Xbox. Or maybe you would’ve preferred that I ended up inside Clermont?”
The kid puts his hands up and takes a step back.
Good move.
“All right, that’s enough,” the Crusading Comet growls. “The Kiltechs have infiltrated the Heroic Legion. It’s entirely possible they will use the Legion and the provisional government to set the stage for a diplomatic takeover.”
“Their ships have death rays, Comet,” I say. “Screw diplomacy.”
The Comet shrugs. “The first invasion was aggression all the way, but we fought back. You make the Legion complicit, get them to welcome you with open arms, then you put your master plan in motion.”
“The ‘kill ’em all’ approach would’ve worked in Independence Day if it hadn’t been for that Macintosh computer. Damn, we could use Jeff Goldblum right now,” I muse.
“If they’re using diplomacy, we counter it, like with like,” my mother insists. “As a ranking member of the Super Diplomats Corps, I volunteer to lead the effort to negotiate with the Champions of Justice.”
Not too long ago, my mother professed to a lack of confidence in her abilities. She’s a better diplomat than me by far—better even than Jaci—but there’s always the chance that she’ll have one of her little episodes. “No, I’ll go handle the Champions. You don’t have to—”
“I am tired of being cooped up inside cells they call private suites,” my mother snaps. “I am tired of being considered too ‘delicate’ to help. I’m Miss Lightspeed. I was saving the world and beating back power mongers before the term ‘supervillain’ even existed. To piss away my resources is a waste.”
My mother rarely swears. “Piss away” is about as incendiary as she gets. This is serious.
The Comet takes position behind his keyboard. With a swift series of keystrokes, he searches for “Champions of Justice.” Articles and reports about the group fill the screen.
“The Champions of Justice could not have escaped the view of the Kiltechs’ unblinking eye,” he says, conjuring a Lord of the Rings reference without realizing it. “I can’t get into their data network—the encryption is very sophisticated—but I can get into the Legion’s mainframe.”
After a few more clicks and clacks, the Comet clears his throat. “The Champions’ D.C. lobby is only a public front. The Legion identifies three different areas as possible home bases for the organization.”
Three bullseyes illuminate a map of the United States.
Columbus, Ohio.
Las Vegas, Nevada.
A familiar island off the Florida coast.
“It’s the island,” I say. “It’s the logical place for them to stay, since they’re so obsessed with everything related to Colonel Chaos. Guess we’re going back to Dad’s Island of Fun.”
“At least we don’t have to go in the Comet Accelerator,” Warren mutters.
“You can say that
again,” I say, the mere memory of the Accelerator making me queasy. “I’ll get a head start. Everybody else grab a flying buddy.”
Warren adjusts his gauntlets. “Let’s get going, Dad.”
The Crusading Comet bows his head. “I’m no good for fieldwork. Not anymore.”
“I’m not leaving you behind this time,” I tell him meaningfully.
“I can barely walk,” the Comet points out. “Even if you team me up with a flight hero, I’m a liability. I’m more valuable here in the lab.”
Warren swallows. “We let Mortimer run ops and—”
“It won’t happen again, son. I have to stay alive long enough for you to find a girlfriend. We have a legacy to continue.”
Warren fidgets and shifts his weight. You can practically see him turn red even through the armor. I let everyone stare at him for a few seconds before moving on.
“If I meet anyone out in the field who seems to be a good match, I’ll let you know, Comet,” I joke. Warren shakes his head. I can sense his death glare even through his mask. “I hope everyone remembers how to get there. The Comet can always Google Map it for you if needed.”
“You watch yourself out there and don’t do anything until we get there,” Jaci says.
“If you do run into the Champions, try to be nice,” Warren advises.
“If I know the Champions, they’ll have a rousing welcome prepared for whoever drops by for a visit,” I tell everyone before rocketing away at Crimsonspeed.
I’ll Take That Glowing Orange Thing Behind Cloning Chamber Wall Number Three
A mysterious, remote island lies ahead as I buzz across Florida at supersonic speeds.
Before going certifiably nuts, my father teamed up with an earthmover named Rock Tumbler to create his own private research island. Like his darker experiments, he kept the facility secret.
