by Adam Graham
The bystanders scurried off.
Justice Woman beamed. So this was what it felt like to be a hero.
In the distance, a blue building caught on fire.
The glowing would have to wait for later. How could she stop this thing? Maybe she could hit it at maximum speed, but with something big and heavy. She landed behind a building.
What she needed was a tank. She glanced over at a side street at a totaled black Ford pick up truck. “Become an operational tank.”
The wreck obeyed.
Did the tank come with artillery shells? Would those even help? What if it were full of explosives? She dashed across town to the library and ran to the computer catalog.
The librarian called, “We’re evacuating!”
“In a second!” She did a computer search of their catalog for explosives and pulled up a list of books. One looked like it’d have the info she needed. She dashed to the Dewey Decimal 662.2 section, ripped the book off the shelf, and absorbed it. Knowledge of explosives and munitions filled her head.
Justice Woman replaced the book on the shelf. Best not to risk using up the rest of her candy for this, then find herself defenseless if this didn’t work. She dashed to the vending machine and bought a bag of Skittles, panting.
One less wouldn’t hurt any. She popped a lemon-flavored candy in her mouth and resealed the bag.
Once out of the library, she sped through the vacant streets of Seattle at top speed. “Yes! Tank hatch, open.” It obeyed. She poured all but one of the skittles in and read off a list of explosives. They filled the tank. She closed the hatch and dropped the last skittle on top of it. “I need a rocket attached to the tank that’s big enough to propel it three hundred feet in the air.”
The oversized rocket was nearly as big as the tank.
Wow, that was almost as big as some of those guns in those 90s comics Dave used to read. “Tank, hover high enough that I can get under you.”
It obeyed.
She hovered below it and placed her hands on its undercarriage. “Tank, follow me.”
They zoomed at her top speed and stopped in front of a large hotel half a mile from where the monster was rampaging. “Okay, stay right there.”
The tank stayed suspended in mid-air on the same level as the fifth floor of the hotel.
She flew a quarter a mile away and landed. “Now go!”
The rocket ignited and zoomed through the air.
She said, “Avoid the buildings, avoid the birds, avoid all obstacles, and hit that dragon right in the chest.”
The rocket/tank obeyed her and zigzagged around all obstacles in the Seattle metro landscape.
The dragon looked up at the flying tank rocket missile.
It slammed into the dragon’s chest and exploded.
Dust and fire surrounded the dragon.
She jumped up and down. She’d done it.
The smoke dissipated. The dragon breathed fire on another building.
Justice Woman stared at the dragon. “What? That’s impossible.”
She groaned. Could she really say anything was impossible at this point? Okay. What now? What other tricks would Dave try?
Creating a tornado through superspeed. Of course. She ran around the massive creature at top speed. The windows of the evacuated buildings blew out, as did the windows of empty cars. The dragon tottered but continued to stomp forward.
Justice Woman pouted. Powerhouse had gotten this to work against the Robolawyers. Of course, they were much smaller. Guess this wouldn’t work on a huge dragon—unless—maybe she needed to create a bigger wind tunnel.
She dashed a mile away and stopped by a wrecked car on the sidewalk near a vacant lot. “Become a giant Hoover vacuum, with the bag made of a titanium that’s see-through.”
The wreck morphed into a sixty story vacuum spilling over into the lot.
“Up into the air.” She flew into the air with the vacuum below her and got above the three-hundred-foot lizard. “Off switch, flip to on.”
Giant Hoover whirred to life, creating a wind tunnel that sucked up all the cars in the area and several building.
The dragon yawned and lumbered away.
Justice Woman glared. “No, you don’t. Let’s follow him, vacuum.”
The vacuum pulled the dragon off the ground and up into its tank.
She landed the vacuum in the ruins of a burned out three-story office building. Good thing they’d evacuated.
The dragon banged on the titanium tank.
Justice Woman clenched her fists on her hips. “What do I do with the monster now?”
“I have a suggestion,” a man said from behind her.
She spun around.
The man wore striped yellow pants. His patchwork coat was red on one side, pink on the other, with a yellow lapel and a pink lapel, a white shirt, a plaid vest, a pink bowtie, and red shoes. He wore a short blonde permanent wig, and held a rainbow colored umbrella in his hand.
Obviously this was someone from a comic con who’d gotten lost and had horrible tastes in heroes, or was this a villain? Naomi shuddered. “Don’t tell me who you’re supposed to be. I don’t want to ever have to accept the existence of a comic book character who dressed so atrociously.”
“Don’t insult the classics.” Fashion Disaster Man glowered. “I’m only impersonating the all-time best portrayal of the Doctor, but I am a doctor, and I’d suggest what you do with that creature is remove the mind control device.”
“What mind control device?”
Fashion Disaster Man pointed at the top of his head. “It has a one foot square metal plate on its head. I’ve detected electronic activity up there. I’d recommend you simply go ahead and imagine it off, Mrs. Johnson.”
“What?” Justice Woman stumbled back. “What makes you think . . .”
“I know it for the same reason I know Dave Johnson is Powerhouse. You’re both putting off the same energy signature, ergo your powers have the same source, ergo you’re wanting to mask that you have anything to do with Powerhouse. Fine, but I don’t have time for it.”
Justice Woman said, “Vacuum cleaner, extract and remove the metal from the dragon.”
A titanium claw reached into the vacuum’s belly, grabbed the plate, and removed it.
Fashion Disaster Man laughed.
Inside the vacuum, the dragon disappeared. A woman in an Elizabethan costume stood in its place. She jumped up and down, shouting silently.
Justice Woman arched her eyebrows. “Audio on.”
Elizabethan Lady said, “Please let me out! I’m finally free!”
“It could be a trick.” Justice Woman bowed her head. “God, should I?”
Fashion Disaster Man narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.
She’d take a chance. “Vacuum, go away, but leave the girl.”
The vacuum obeyed. Elizabethan Lady fell on Justice Woman’s neck and kissed her. “Oh thank you. My centuries of slavery are at an end. This was the worst engagement I’ve ever had. Last time I was on your Earth, I played Lady Macbeth, Hamlet’s mother, and Ophelia.”
Justice Woman stepped back. “You’re an actress?”
“Oh, you have such terms these days?” Elizabethan Lady laughed. “Last time, I had to pretend I was a man, which is confusing when I only play female roles. However, yes, I’m an actress. I’m Stara the Eternal. My husband and I toured the universe. Normockan playwrights have a wicked sense of humor.”
“You got off on a tangent. What are you?”
“My husband and I were created at the beginning of time to bring joy and truth through drama and comedy. I perform any female part to absolute perfection. He performs any male part. We also play multiple parts at once.”
Lady Macbeth split off from Stara and glared at Stara. “Show off.”
“I’m only stretching my legs. It’s been a hellish three hundred years.”
“You can say that again.” Lady Macbeth snorted.
“It’s been a hellish three hun
dred years.”
Naomi groaned. Her jokes were three hundred years old, too
Lady Macbeth said, “Anyway, Stara was performing on Gebthah Five in Dimension G. They were doing a fantastic rendition of the Tempest.”
Stara clapped her hands. “I so adore the Tempest.”
Lady Macbeth said, “Please get to a point.”
Stara cringed. “King Bel and his tongue-walkers seized my husband and I and took us to Terra, which is Dimension G’s twin world to Earth.”
Fashion Disaster Man clapped. “Fascinating.”
“There, we were placed under his control and forced to do his bidding. Work has been kind of limited for me these past three hundred years. Under Bel’s control, I’ve mostly appeared in unpleasant roles in training films for his army on how to pillage and ransack planets. Usually I get script approval and we only perform what exalts truth, justice, and beauty, but under their Bel’s we had no choice, and my husband was used far more frequently.”
“Why?” Naomi asked, lips pursed.
Stara shrugged. “Bel’s scripts are all about men being selfish, caring only for themselves, and betraying one another for peripheral personal gain.”
Fashion Disaster Man snorted. “Here we watch C-Span for that.”
Naomi cleared her throat. “How did you end up as a giant dragon?”
“That was my assigned part.” Stara waved at Lady Macbeth.
Lady Macbeth nodded. “Her script said to stomp the city into oblivion.”
A bullet knocked off Fashion Disaster Man’s hairpiece.
Another flew towards him.
Justice Woman whispered, “Drop on the spot.”
The bullet dropped.
A gunman crouched on the roof of a building. She flew up after him. He fired at her.
She said, “Divert your course and drop to the ground harmlessly.”
The bullet zoomed past her.
She drew her six-shooter and shot the gunman’s hand.
Cursing, the assassin threw the high powered rifle at her.
She caught it. “What was that about?”
He lurched for the stairs. “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ until I talk to my lawyer.”
“Have it your way. I have bigger issues. Rope.” She pulled it out of her belt’s pouch on her belt and tied the man up.
Justice Woman dropped down beside the black-haired Fashion Disaster Man and folded her arms. “Why is someone shooting at you?”
He straightened his pink bow tie. “There is a slight matter of a contract on my life.”
“Unless you have a legal name, I hope there aren’t any other assassins after you. I’m leaving you to fend for yourself, Mystery Man.”
“Would my real name still matter if I told you I can find Powerhouse?”
“Keep talking.”
Justice Woman stood outside an office that should have been evacuated. It had a sign that said Varlock and Sons Importers. “Are you sure about this?”
Fashion Disaster Man nodded. “You might be able to break down the door, but no use arousing his defenses.”
“Okay, let’s do this.”
“Good, then change my appearance to Bel’s, as described by our actress dragon lady.”
Justice Woman waved at his rags. “Clown suit, turn into the costume requested by your owner.”
The ugly suit transformed into a red body suit with the head of a one-eyed red Cyclops.
Bel Impersonator frowned. “I can’t see. Can you fix?”
Justice Woman nodded. “Costume, allow him to see out the eye hole.”
“Good, thanks. Now hide on the other side of the door.”
“Okay.” She hid.
The man in the Bel costume hit the buzzer.
A deep villainous voice answered. “Who is it?”
“Varlock, it is your master, King Bel.” The impersonator spoke through a voice synthesizer.
“Why did you traverse through the dimensional barrier to see me?”
“Um, I came to borrow a cup of sugar.”
Like that would work. Justice Woman rolled her eyes.
The door opened, and a man knelt before the fake Bel, extending packets of sugar. “My king, forgive your lowly servant, but I don’t have a cup of sugar, choosing to instead use packets as is the practice of the Earth. Oh Pardon.”
Justice Woman charged in, ripped the man off his knees, and pinned him to the wall.
The fake Bel came in and removed his mask.
Varlock gasped. “You’re not his resplendent majesty! You’re Fournier.”
“Quite so.” Fournier pulled a hypodermic needle out of his pocket. “Pin his arms, please, and rip off his suit jacket.”
Varlock gasped. “No!”
“Behave.” Justice Woman ripped off the right arm of Varlock’s suit. “Or your arm’s next.”
“She’s not bluffing, so you’d better be still.” Fournier ran his hands up and down Varlock’s arms. “Here we go, so hard to find the right spot on you aliens.” He jabbed the needle in just below Varlock’s elbow.
Varlock screamed and writhed in agony.
“Oh dear.” Fournier tsked. “I should’ve said it’ll hurt a little. Varlock, do you hear me?”
“Yes,” Varlock said in a groggy voice.
“Good. Did you bring Stara here to destroy Seattle? If so, why?”
“I did. The Sheriff of Atlantis, Justice Woman, Powerhouse Squad were causing too much hope.”
“How do you travel between dimensions?”
“Desk and office chair are interdimensional ship.”
“You can’t get those at Office Max, so teach me how to pilot the ship.”
Justice Woman eyed Fournier’s bow tie and gasped. “I remember you! Scum!” She slapped him across the chops. “You tried to kill Powerhouse! Why are you trying to get him back?”
“I have my own reasons for wanting things back the way they were.”
Justice Woman glanced at Varlock. If this guy didn’t know who she was, she wanted to keep it that way. “Didn’t you lure Powerhouse to his doom with a promise of rescuing his beloved wife?”
“That wasn’t me, but I understand your suspicions. The most intelligent thing you could do is to play it safe, tie me up, and call the FBI to question me. There’s only one problem. I’m not lying. Powerhouse is in another dimension, and Varlock is the only one who knows how to get to him. Unless you go to that other dimension and get Powerhouse out, you’ll never see him again.”
Naomi’s stomach churned. Never see him again? He’d perish and it’d be all her fault. She needed him. She needed to make things right.
Fournier said, “Well?”
“Get the information you need so I can make the trip.” Who knew that for better or for worse would include traveling to a dimension ruled by a one-eyed, red Cyclops?
Chapter 27
If Death Be My Destiny
Powerhouse stood in the palace of the aliens. So much for the theory it’d take an overseer zapping him to knock him out. He’d been slumped over from his recent beating and then suddenly awoke here.
Before him, the queen had tears in her lavender eyes. “Powerhouse, you were right. Your stories and your kindness moved these creatures.”
“They’re people,” Powerhouse said, staring hard.
The queen nodded. “We tortured them with nightmares because they were the most easily available targets for our wrath. I hope God can forgive us our arrogance.”
“He’s good at that.”
“I’m sorry we can’t save you.”
Powerhouse shrugged. “I know you would if you could.”
“We could speed your execution with an extra powerful blast of mental energy. Your death by King Bel’s hands won’t be quick and painless.”
Powerhouse shook his head. “Don’t become an accessory. God will take care of me.”
“Before you depart, I wanted to honor you.” As she spoke, the room filled with others like herself. They all had the same
ebony skin color but every eye color conceivable. She knelt before Powerhouse and tapped his knees with her scepter. “I hereby name you Lord Guardian Powerhouse, protector of the Realm, and Duke of Chermoth.”
“Where’s Chermoth?”
“It’s three miles to the north, but on the other side of the planet.”
Powerhouse bowed his head. “Thank you, your majesty.”
“Henceforth, Lord Powerhouse, we shall use our power to fill the minds of the men underground with stories of hope, heroism, and goodness. We’ve downloaded all of those in your memory. You have done a great service to all of those who live in this dimension by what you have stored.”
Powerhouse beamed. To think Naomi and his mom thought he’d been wasting time with all those hours he’d spent watching Spider-Man. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Thanks to you.”
The palace disappeared.
Powerhouse jerked as he lay slumped over in the dungeon.
Tongue-Walker snorted. “The way you people dream, I think you’d have the sense to stay awake. It’s time for you to walk to the arena.”
Powerhouse bowed his head and whispered a prayer. God, give me strength.
“Move.” Tongue-Walker prodded him with a stick.
Powerhouse arose and walked towards his doom.
In the office of Varlock and Sons Importers, Justice Woman sat on the floating chair at the interdimensional ship disguised as a desk. Varlock was unconscious and tied to a floating chair.
Fournier wore the King Bel suit as he handed Naomi a map on computer paper. “Powerhouse should be in the mine area, and these coordinates should put you about a quarter of a mile out. Go through the main arena. It should be vacant, unless they’re holding an event. I couldn’t pinpoint where Powerhouse is, so you’ll have to figure out how to find him. Good luck.”
“Thanks. Will you come?”
“I’d love to cross the dimensional barrier, but you would be a stickler about turning me into the FBI when we got back.” Fournier fingered his neck and flinched. “Could you restore my old clothes?”
Justice Woman wrinkled her nose. “What you had on before was a crime against nature.”
“At least give back my bowtie. It’s pink, and, um, efficient.”
