by Matt Adams
Even through his helmet, I can see Knight’s eyes widen.
“Fairborne? Fairborne! Why did you come here? Get out!” His gaze turns toward the Orange Bands. “The Kiltechs said they’ve detected an alien presence inside headquarters. You can get out while they’re still distracted.”
Great Alexander gestures toward the door, his purple cape rippling as he does so. “They found a breach in the sewer line—no doubt your doing. But we can probably hustle you out through the Hall of the Fallen.”
Samson Knight points at me. “Don’t stand there and gawk, Fairborne! They’ve captured the entire Legion. They’re running tests on every human and superhuman they can get their hands on, but they’re most interested in you.”
The lights flicker and suddenly an imposing, black-clad figure stands next to the two Heroic Legion leaders.
“Heroes. I should have known,” Kilgore says, taking a scepter from his belt that quickly transforms into a staff. He strikes Samson Knight, who falls to one knee. Great Alexander takes a step forward, but the monstrous figure points the staff in Alexander’s direction and the hero stays put.
“The implants are not taking,” the Kiltech leader says, his disappointment palpable. “Such a troublesome, small-minded species.” He sends a powerful blow across Samson Knight’s face that cracks his helmet.
For all his prowess, the bottom line is that Samson Knight is a man in a suit. His armor is extraordinary, a technological marvel, but it was made through advanced engineering. The helmet is another matter entirely. Though modified to match the rest of his gear, Samson Knight’s helmet is said to come from a mystical plane far above man’s capacity to comprehend.
Nothing on Earth should be able to break it.
Sucks that the Kiltechs aren’t of this Earth.
“Fairborne,” Samson Knight strains to say. “Get out of here. Before they surround you. Before they change you.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I don’t think we should stick around to find out.
Kilgore thrusts his staff in my direction, but my mother intercepts it before it gets close.
“Stay away from my son!” she yells, beating the staff back with all her might. The speed of her intervention is startling, a mother lion protecting her cub. I roll to the side, out of Kilgore’s reach.
“You are Chaos’s mate, are you not?” Kilgore sneers. “I imagine you are equally meddlesome.”
As Kilgore growls a few other gems like “resistance is futile,” “we are unstoppable,” and “join us or die,” I feel compelled to tell him he doesn’t have to stoop to villain clichés. He’s strong, his force is overwhelming, and he thinks we’re going to do what he wants us to do simply because he’s Kilgore, King of the Kiltechs.
We’re not that easy. He’s dealing with the Fairborne family. The Kensington clan. A bunch of guys who belong in the 1980s and have some radical powers. We’ve got a flying woman, an intergalactic empress, and a loyal man-bird.
We’ll stand against the Kiltechs.
“Your offspring is infinitely valuable to our cause,” Kilgore says. My mother holds her ground, positioning herself between the bad guy’s staff and me.
What could they possibly want with me? If you’re looking to start a cloning operation, you’re better off with Colonel Chaos or Miss Lightspeed. They’ve got the whole package: flight, super-strength, invulnerability.
I’m the super-speedster. The family disappointment. The kid who never grew into his powers.
Kilgore is paying so much attention to my mother that he doesn’t see what I notice out of the corner of my eye. I slide to my right to keep Kilgore distracted. Samson Knight ever-so-slowly reaches for his electro-mace…
A flash of lightning, a surge of incredible warmth…
A metallic clank.
Kilgore erupts in a roar, picking Samson Knight off the ground with one hand and ragdolling him across the room. The hero crashes through the wall and continues hurtling through several different rooms.
That’s gotta hurt.
As Kilgore watches Samson Knight, I spring into Crimsonspeed, launching myself at his chest. He staggers back with the impact—just a step or two—and I get back to my feet. My mother and I nod at each other and barrel into him in a flash of Fairborne family superheroics. He knocks both of us backwards.
Jaci keeps me from crashing into a wall and Sapphire Twelve belts Kilgore with a burst of crackling blue energy. It barely registers, and he swats at the deposed intergalactic queen. I accelerate into Crimsonspeed to catch her before she hits, but she regains control and corrects her course. Kilgore’s staff glows bright green—and it’s pointed directly at me.
“A little help here?” I say, turning toward the Orange Bands. The extremely-powerful-but-most-days-we-don’t-feel-like-showing-it Orange Bands.
Waid puts his hands on his stupid-looking headband and disappears. Oh, my hero. At least Klem sticks around. Orange energy swirls from his headband and fists.
“You should not meddle in affairs you do not understand, Commander Klem,” Kilgore warns, directing his attention toward the band commander.
Our ally stiffens. “The Kiltechs should not direct the development of a species. We stranded you for a reason.”
Kilgore’s body quakes in a full-on Evil Villain Laugh. “Your kind would choose to rule all of us. If the others on the Council refuse to fight, we will take up the cause.”
“The cost of fighting…”
Kilgore’s eyes narrow. “Do not lecture me about cost.” He turns back toward us. “What lies have the Orange Bands told you? Have you fools made them your allies?”
Klem answers in our stead. “We told them what they needed to know about you.”
“But did you tell them everything they needed to know about you?” Kilgore asks. “Did you reveal how you betrayed the Kiltech Empire? How you nearly annihilated our species? Once, the Kiltechs were many. Now, we are but a grain of sand in a galaxy of infinite dunes.
“You convinced the Council to follow you, but they didn’t anticipate the power grab, did they, Commander? Yet, they refused to destroy you. The Kiltech Empire has no such hesitation.”
Kilgore waves his staff at Klem, but the Band doesn’t even flinch. “The humans are not pawns in your quest for intergalactic conquest,” Klem says.
“Nor are they yours,” Kilgore responds, looking at me. “The Bands are not to be trusted.”
“What do you want me to do, slick?” I ask sardonically. “You invaded our planet.” I jerk my head in Klem’s direction. “These guys are here to liberate us. They’re not running around trying to upgrade humanity. Do I need to mention that your implants are either killing people or driving them insane?”
“It is true that only one among you has fully accepted our enhancements,” Kilgore replies, his staff now trained on Klem. “His genetic matrix mirrors that of you, Son of Chaos. What you fail to comprehend is that our original subject is now running loose. You are the only being capable of catching him. If you return him, we can avoid trans-dimensional scattering.”
Trans-dimensional scattering. Now there’s a fun phrase.
Klem’s Band of Power glows orange. “Don’t listen to him.” He blasts Kilgore with swirling energy, but the Kiltech leader deflects it. “You cannot trust the Kiltechs. We’re getting out of here. Now!”
I hear the clattering footsteps of additional Kiltech soldiers, but before they confront us, Legion Headquarters dissolves in a torrent of orange light.
And They Didn’t Even Serve an Inflight Meal
We emerge back at the Orange Band’s command center. When I look around, I don’t see Commander Klem. Or my mother. Or Sapphire Twelve, for that matter.
Falcon Gray, Warren, Jaci and I stand in a room with bright orange walls and a shining black floor. A long table sits in the middle, and Falcon Gray flies to the center of the room so he can perch atop it.
It takes me a second to realize the Crusading Comet is seated at the tabl
e. “Welcome back,” he says joylessly. “I thought you were going to bring the rest of the Heroic Legion with you. Instead, it looks like you’re missing a few members.”
“We’re missing a few things, all right. The Kiltechs must have gotten my mother and Sapphire Twelve.”
“That’s impossible,” Warren protests. “They were standing right next to us.”
“You might just consider that the Bands don’t have unlimited powers,” the Comet suggests. “They probably couldn’t get everyone out. Actually, I’m betting that’s the case.”
“What do you mean?” Jaci asks.
“Our transmission cut out in the middle of your mission,” the Comet says. “The Bands said we were getting interference from the Kiltechs, but I don’t think that’s what really happened. The signal that was blocking communications wasn’t Kiltech in origin. I got curious.
“So while the Bands made sure I couldn’t see or hear what was going on with your mission, I started looking through their records. I couldn’t access everything, but I learned a little bit about them. Their powers have to be recharged after extensive use. In addition, the more Bands there are in one place, the more powerful they become collectively. They’re waiting for their main force to arrive. Right now, there’s just a handful of them in the system.”
“Where did you find that?” I ask.
“They keep logs,” the Comet explains. “Nothing extensive, but I read enough to see that things aren’t going well for them. They’re a little underpowered right now, but that’ll change when the next wave arrives. Until then, they need us to stall the Kiltechs. Let’s take a look at this, shall we?”
The Comet presses a button on a console in front of him. A holographic display forms in the middle of the table, and I zip toward Falcon Gray to shoo him out of the way. “Sorry, buddy. You were blocking my view.” The birdman moves to a chair on the left side of the table and perches there instead.
“The Bands have graciously given me access to television feeds from Earth. Let’s just say ‘Aegis’ has stepped up its propaganda.”
“Members of Aegis are assuring travelers that their goodwill tours are indeed safe,” a waifish TV anchorwoman says in a surprisingly deep voice. “They are calling the disruptions by an insurgent group a ‘minor setback’ by elements that aren’t, in their words, ‘welcoming change with open arms.’ Counter-intelligence experts tell CNN the rogue elements are from the breakaway hero group called the ‘Champions of Justice.’ Leaders of the provisional government are denouncing them as terrorists.”
“At least someone’s doing something right,” Jaci says.
“They’re not stopping every trip,” the Comet replies. “But they are stopping enough of them to get noticed. I expect the Kiltechs will ramp up their security measures soon.”
A door hisses open. “That is why we must work quickly,” Commander Klem says, striding in.
Warren’s head snaps in Klem’s direction; I’m thankful he has more neck flexibility than any of the big-screen Batmans. “We just ‘worked quickly,’ and we lost some important members of our team.”
“I am sorry for your losses. I did not mean for Miss Lightspeed and Sapphire Twelve to fall into the hands of the Kiltechs. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough power to transport all of us here. Our powers are not as infinite as they appear.”
He almost sounds sheepish about it. Almost.
Warren isn’t having any of that. “Can’t you Orange Band-warp us to the Kiltechs’ main ship so we can blow it up? Problem solved.”
“If we destroy that ship, it will trigger a chain reaction that will pepper your planet with debris,” Klem says in mild rebuke.
“We can always clean that up,” Warren says.
Commander Klem stiffens. “It will render Earth uninhabitable—an ecological disaster not seen since the fifty-second interstellar war destroyed your dinosaurs. Sad day. Remarkable creatures, they were,” He lets out a very human pfft. “Meteorites. And the thinkers of your world dare to call themselves ‘scientists.’ What a farce. There is also the matter of getting aboard the Kiltech vessel.”
“You took us there before,” Warren recalls. “Remember Henrietta Davies?”
Gotta admit, I’d almost forgotten the poor woman’s name. Score one for the kid; true heroism is definitely in his blood.
“That was different. We’ve been over this: that was a peek into their ships, a virtual eavesdropping session, not actual physical transference. The Invincible will be guarded much more heavily than your Heroic Legion Headquarters, which is not as strategically important. As soon as we arrive, we will be surrounded by Kiltech warriors. With my current reserve of Orange Bands, an outright battle would end in slaughter. We must instead rely upon stealth.”
Klem looks at the Crusading Comet, who gives him a very businesslike nod. “I’ve had this idea since before we launched the operation on Legion HQ, Despite the media rhetoric, the Kiltechs are still unconvinced that the Champions of Justice pose much of a threat. While that will likely change soon, if we act quickly, we can get you aboard one of the tour shuttles. There’s one heading to the Invincible soon. Infiltrate, find Colonel Chaos, and try to destroy that interdimensional transporter.”
“So the solution is to board one of their ‘death shuttles’ and sneak around?” Warren asks skeptically. He puts his hands on his hips. “I say hit ’em head on. I prefer a straight fight.” He’s going for Han Solo but looks a little more Barney Fife, even with the crimefighting gear.
The commander laughs. “A straight fight? You, the normal human being? Her,” he points at Jaci, “the woman who can fly, but do little else? Him,” he crooks a finger at me, “the super-speedster who knows nothing of his true potential? It,” he jabs a finger at Falcon Gray, “the ‘misplaced birdman of Aviary XII?’ Were you aware the Aviary system has only eleven planets?”
“The Kiltechs should meet the Death of a Thousand Pecks for what they have done to Aviary XII,” Falcon Gray says. “I fear them no more.”
Klem smiles. “They would destroy you. All of you. Easily, and without mercy. Infiltration, again, is our best option.”
“It worked so wonderfully the last time,” I say.
“Last time, they ensnared us in a trap,” Klem retorts. “This time, we will have the element of surprise. I promise you that. They will not expect you.”
“I think we’d better accelerate this plan,” the Comet says, waving toward the table. As if by magic, the volume increases.
“This just in to the newsroom: Aegis has announced the capture of high-ranking members of the insurgency,” the news anchor informs us. “Miss Lightspeed, also known as Karen Jo Fairborne, is now in custody. She is the mother of Crimsonstreak, also known as Christopher Gregory Fairborne, who is considered by Aegis to be the most wanted man in the world. A known associate of Crimsonstreak named Sapphire Twelve has also been apprehended… ”
When the New World Common Wealth was in power, Fox News Chaopolis brought all the bad news that wasn’t fit to print. Now, CNN is taking up the mantle.
“It’s another spin job,” the Comet says. “They’re trying to convince people that they have everything under control.”
“It certainly seems that they do,” Jaci says. “They’ve got Chris’s parents and the High Imperator. Now, Sapphire Twelve, too—she holds the Champions together. Without her, the group could implode at any second.”
Klem tilts his head. “I was under the impression you trusted the Champions of Justice.”
“As long as our goals are aligned, we trust them,” she says. “But these are people who supported the New World Common Wealth. They want Colonel Chaos in charge of everyone—and they don’t care whether it’s the good one or the bad one.”
“Your politics are fascinating,” Klem says. “I would think all your heroes would work together.”
“I’ll clear this one up,” I tell Jaci. Turning to Klem, I say, “You gotta remember the Champions and the Heroic Legion are like the
Red Sox and Yankees.”
Klem gives me a blank stare.
“You’re kidding me, right? Colts-Patriots? Indiana-Purdue? North Carolina-Duke? Ohio State-Michigan? Franklin College-Hanover?”
With each example, Orange Band shakes his head more emphatically. By the time I got to Franklin College-Hanover, I was just messing with him. Huck Fanover, you know?
“Perhaps a better illustration is the Kiltechs and the Orange Bands?” the Comet suggests.
I try to ignore how patently obvious the comparison should’ve been to me. “My point is, the Legion and the COJ hate each other. They’ll do anything to undermine one another. So, again, as long as our goal remains the same—and that goal is currently ‘stop the Kiltechs’—I trust them. After that, it’s kind of a crapshoot.”
“I did not realize the Champions were such a cowardly lot,” Klem says. “Perhaps we should pull back support once the mission is complete?”
To be honest, I’m not sure which mission he’s referring to. I think we’re running like ninety-seven different ops right now.
“They’ve been undermining the Heroic Legion since Chaos went down,” the Comet explains. “If they smell a chance to take the lead on this thing, they’ll do it. They want the glory. We can only trust them so far.”
“Sometimes I think the villains are more trustworthy,” Warren says. His lips twist in a frustrated frown. “Okay, I guess ‘trustworthy’ isn’t the right word. Let’s go with ‘consistent.’”
I knew what you meant, kid. And… honestly, you might be right.
“How’s this thing going to go down?” I ask, shaking off that train of thought. “Send Warren, Jaci, and me to board a ‘goodwill’ shuttle and have at it?”
Klem gestures toward Falcon Gray. “We should send the birdman as well. His abilities are considerable.”
I can’t help laughing. “Listen, keeping us humans concealed is easy enough, but Falcon Gray looks like a bird. He has wings. He… moves his head a lot. We can’t hide that. Well, unless you’ve got an Invisibility Cloak hidden somewhere around here.”
