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In Hero Years... I'm Dead Delux Edition

Page 21

by Michael Stackpole


  I opened my hands. “And then someone else comes along and disrupts things. Puma. Nighthaunt. Me.”

  “You exalt yourself.” My father frowned. “Puma, yes, he was a force to be reckoned with. It took me years to figure out why he had defeated me.”

  Diana perked. “And that was?”

  “His history, child. He fought the Nazis, and my family had no love for them. As I grew up, he was a hero for me, too. That stayed my hand.”

  I looked at Selene. “Isn’t revisionist history wonderful?”

  Sinisterion narrowed his eyes. “You, on the other hand, were a minor annoyance. Do you think I could not have crushed you if I found you to be anything more?”

  “Hypothetical. You never did.” I shrugged. “You never nailed Nighthaunt, either.”

  “I’m not dead, yet.”

  “Uh huh.” I sighed. “So, why is it you’re here?”

  “You’ve gotten sloppy. Connecting you to this enterprise was a matter of simplicity. You’ve angered some people and they will seek retribution.”

  “Really? You’re sure they’ll connect the dots you have? You are, after all, a mastermind.”

  “They’re trying.” Sinisterion smiled. “There is a man who, until last evening, called himself PowerLion, then his paw got stuck through with many thorns. Your handiwork, I believe. He now calls himself the Revengenatorist and has sworn vengeance. And you, my dear, were mistaken for Vixen.”

  Selene covered her surprise. “Flattery, as you say, Doctor, is appreciated.”

  My father clapped his hands. “Splendid. Scarlet Fox is known to be Vixen’s mother, and yet you won’t confirm it was you last night. How simply quaint.”

  “This coming from the man whose memoir is titled If I was a Supervillain?”

  “You’ve read it?”

  “I save fiction for vacation reading.”

  Sinisterion bowed to her. “Touché.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And you heard this about the Revenger-whoosie how?”

  He shrugged. “Researching my next book.”

  “And what’s your expert opinion?”

  Sinisterion paced as he lectured. “The Hall of Fame hit and the Little Asia Massacre have the earmarks of planning by the same person. The latter went off better, which indicates he’s learning.”

  “It indicates better command-and-control.”

  My father’s eyes sparked darkly. “So you were there, and you saw things. What did you see?”

  “You already know what I saw. Ear-pieces, coordinated maneuvers conducted independent of leaders on the ground.”

  He nodded. “And they had advanced armor and weaponry.”

  “Seems like.” I nodded. “You projecting into the future off two data-points?”

  “No.” He paused in front of the case with the Spookstar. “One has to wonder as to the motive for the operations.”

  “Qui bono?”

  “Who benefits, yes, but I prefer who profits.” He turned, his forehead wrinkled with concentration. “In neither operation was there a profit, yet we must assume there is meant to be a profit.”

  Selene pursed her lips. “Redhawk came out of the Little Asia thing looking good.”

  “True, but that was not the case from the Hall of Fame. Has he returned from retirement, or is this a case of a blind squirrel finding an acorn? Now Colonel Constitution, on the other hand, does not look good. He is collecting a great deal of flak for the massacre, though fools like O’Lily are willing to give him a pass since the criminals suffered one hundred percent casualties. But public relations are not at the heart of this. They may be a collateral concern, but not the heart.”

  As much as I was loathe to admit it, he was making sense. There had to be some logic behind the attacks. Figuring it out would be key to stopping future acts.

  “Okay, here’s one thing.” I held up three fingers. “Baron Samizdat, Panda-moanium and Mephistopheles all have been removed from the picture. Each was a good recruiter. They had good armies working for them. Little Miss Dragon scooped up the China Dolls. Someone else could pick up the others’ leftovers.”

  “And likely will, through surrogates. Look for the Revengenatorist to pull together the Zomboyz and Red Devils.” My father stroked his chin. “The attacks also tested the response by the city. He gained information which can go to planning new things.”

  Selene blinked. “Building a powerbase to take control of Capital City?”

  “It’s been tried before, my dear.” Sinisterion’s nostril’s flared, “but Capital City is really too paltry a prize for which to risk so much.”

  I laughed. “Sour grapes.”

  “I find small nations much more conducive to influence.”

  “Easier to bribe, you mean.”

  “You say tomato…”

  “…you think blood.” I watched my father for a second. “I know you’re not behind this.”

  His smile carried up into his eyes. “He’s doing with a sledgehammer what should be done with a scalpel.”

  “Then why do you care?” I matched his smile. “Ah, because, ham-handed as this is, it’s closer to success than you’ve ever been.”

  “Faugh!” Pure venom erased his smile. “The methodology is interesting, but ultimately doomed. He is working through surrogates, which increases the chances of betrayal. He seeks to use the many to influence the few, whereas controlling a few to influence the many is far more efficient.”

  I humored him. “So, you’ve got no dog in this fight? Why are you mentioning all this to me–besides the whole research maguffin?”

  “But I do have, as you so quaintly put it, a dog in the fight. That dog would be you, my son.” His expression eased. “I might not have always been the most perfect father…”

  “You abandoned me to torturers. You tried to have me killed.”

  “There are some lessons a son must learn which are very painful for the father as well. My point is this, there are forces which will see you as a threat. They already do, as I said. The Revengenatorist may be as ridiculous as his sobriquet, but he is not wholly without resources.”

  I wanted to disagree, but my neck took that moment to twinge.

  “Were my son to become a casualty in all this, I would feel compelled to act.”

  “Ha!” I shook my head. “That’s it? You’d be embarrassed? Your vanity is what’s pinked here, and you’re using me as your excuse to do something? I don’t believe it.”

  Sinisterion’s mask slipped for a moment, for less than a heartbeat. Weariness washed over his features, then vanished behind an iron curtain of indignation. “Do not believe I could not act if I wanted to. I choose not to act, not now, perhaps not ever. It is my hope that your fate won’t force me to act.”

  I nodded. “I actually understand.” I spread my arms. “All the acting I want to do is here. My last identity. Castigan.”

  “I have a few things you might find of interest.” Sinisterion smiled slowly. “If I were a super villain, I might have kept trophies down through the years. Did you know, my dear, that your great-grandfather sported a cape after he returned from the war? It got caught in the cogs of the UltraTank. I still have it.”

  “I’ll let you know when villain memorabilia becomes chic, dad.”

  “Ingratitude ill becomes you, yet is the theme of your life.”

  Suddenly the front door burst in. Colonel Constitution sprang through the opening, and Capital City’s finest poured in behind him. One of C4 II, Kid Icthy, squished his way in, his fish-scale skin shimmering with a oil-slick rainbow under the pinpoint lights.

  I brought my head up. “Castigan’s is open by appointment only. You don’t have an appointment.”

  “I have a warrant.” Constitution brandished a blank piece of paper. “You’re under arrest, every one of you. Criminal conspiracy for starters, and after that, it’s anything that comes up while you’re confessing.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Okay, so this was the only time in
my whole entire life I actually liked my father.

  Constitution stood there brandishing the blank paper as if it was a cross and we were vampires. My father carefully and slowly reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a passport. It had a gold cover and red seal. He aped Constitution perfectly.

  “I’m afraid your warrant means nothing to me. Santiago has granted me a diplomatic passport.”

  “What?!” Colonel Constitution leaned in. “There is no such country.”

  I nodded. “I’m afraid there is. Nestled between Belize and Guatemala. Forty years ago your grandfather helped set up a right wing government with CIA backing in a rebel province. There’s no extradition treaty and several surviving members of a previous presidential administration live there on a ranch.”

  Constitution’s breath rasped through his faceplate. “You’ll be recalled.”

  “There will be a protest.”

  “Your ass will still be out of here.” Colonel Constitution looked at the rest of us. “You’re not off. Conspiring with a foreign national. We’re taking you in.”

  Diana stood. “But that’s not a warrant.”

  “It will be when the judge signs it.” Constitution shoved it her direction. “It’s all proper and legal.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  “Sez who?”

  “Me, second year law, Emerald University School of Law.”

  Selene and I exchanged a smile.

  “Listen here, the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act allows a warrant to be obtained seventy-two hours after surveillance commences. Therefore, this is a warrant, and you’re under arrest.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary, Colonel.” The mayor pushed his way past Kid Icthy, then soaked up the slime with a handkerchief. “Selene, Castigan, I believe we have some business to conduct.”

  “And that would be?” Selene gave him a hard stare.

  “Better conducted in a more private setting.”

  Sinisterion sketched a bow. “Then I’ll be leaving.”

  I nodded. “Take Diana with you.”

  “She stays.” Constitution slapped the warrant down on her desk. “She’s going nowhere.”

  My eyes tightened. “Castigan believes, right, that things will be said, right, that certain ears should not hear, right?”

  Constitution missed it, but Gregory Greylan did not. He held a hand up. “Let her go. Clear all your men out. Just the four of us.”

  Kid Icthy gurgled something.

  “Need to know, soldier.” Constitution pointed fish-boy to the door. “Standby in case there is trouble. You can help carry the bodies to the meat wagon.”

  A couple of the cops closed the door as best they could, but the jamb had been splintered. I waited until their fingers were clear, then hit a button on Diana’s desk that dropped a steel door into place, securing the shop. Constitution leaped back, landing in the middle of the room in a crouch, his shield poised to fend me off.

  I looked at the mayor. “You’re paying for the door.”

  “Let’s not get into a pissing match, Castigan, because you’ll lose.” He looked me up and down. “I know who you are. I was wracking my brains after that night, because something was familiar about you but…”

  “I tell you what, your Honor, you don’t lie to me, and I won’t lie to you.” I leaned on the desk. “You had no clue who I was–emphasis on the was–until some ghost grumbled in your ear. There was nothing familiar about me, and certainly no desire on your part to remember me.”

  “I remember you real well now.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Don’t tell me what I remember.”

  I laughed. “You never knew who I was then. If you had known, when Graviton and the others started looking for me, you’d have tipped them where I’d been last seen. You didn’t. To you I was just some guy on the plane who took you to a bar on the luckiest night of your life.”

  The mayor hesitated.

  “Does Delores know you still think about them?”

  “You leave my wife out of this.”

  “That’s a no.” I looked over at Constitution. “And before you get all smug, I know you’re William Wright the third. I’m sorry about your dad. I knew him when he was just finishing up as First Amendment and you weren’t even a Preamble.”

  Greylan stopped Constitution with a hand against his chest. “Look Castigan, what I knew, when I knew it, doesn’t matter. I was hoping for some commonality, to build a bond here, to establish some rapport. It’ll make things easier.”

  “What things?”

  He nodded at Selene. “Ms. Kole knows how things are done now. We have a system that keeps things stable. It’s under control.”

  “Who are you trying to kid, Redhawk?” I straightened up. “I was at the Hall of Fame. I was at the Little Asia Massacre. Those things were utterly out of control.”

  “But the system is handling them.”

  “Are you nuts?” Disbelief underscored my question. “I’ve been looking at your system. It can be manipulated. It can be circumvented. There’s someone out there willing to do both.”

  Constitution began muttering. “Conspiracy. Conspiracy.”

  “Listen, Castigan, if I had two bits for every time I’ve heard the ‘there’s a mastermind out there’ crap, I could afford a Fortress of Solitude. The system works because everyone is taken care of. The people are happy watching their heroes succeed. Their Superfriends funds pay them bonuses. Their jobs are tied to reconstruction or merchandising, and business is booming. There’s lots to go around. It’s working. Crime against people is down, and bankable crime is covered.”

  “Bankable crime? What is that supposed to be?”

  “Property crime that doesn’t hurt anyone, but keeps the economy flowing.”

  “What, light bulbs don’t burn out fast enough, so folks go and smash them?” I looked at him incredulously. “It makes no sense.”

  “It makes complete sense.” The mayor posted his fists on his hips. “We’ve taken the random out of crime. There’s surprise, maybe a thrill, but fear’s gone. Everyone knows the rules. If you’re a hostage, sit tight, and you’ll get rescued. Your bank is hit, no problem, your deposits are covered. Your business is offline while being rebuilt, it’s okay. You have insurance for that. You take a vacation, come back to a new office that will be more efficient.”

  “If we follow that to its logical conclusion, Mr. Mayor, you could target city sectors that need renovation.” I blinked. “You actually do that, don’t you?”

  “There are times the people don’t understand what’s best for them.”

  “And you usurp making that choice?”

  His chin came up. “That’s what they elected me for.”

  “No, they elected you to carry out their will, not to make it up for them.”

  Constitution snorted. “Commie.”

  The mayor ignored him and reached inside his jacket. He tossed a thick brown envelope on the desk. “You can think what you like, but the system works. We will keep it working. You’re part of it now.”

  I nudged the envelope onto the floor. It landed with a heavy thwap. “You can’t imagine I’d join Colonel Constitution’s flying circus.”

  “You’re too old.” Redhawk’s eyes narrowed. “That packet has your ID and registration. We’ve gotten you insurance and are deducting the premiums monthly. You’ve got your health insurance card which will conceal your identity. You’ve got permits for non-lethal weapons. Don’t carry anything heavier. We’ve sent vigilantes off west before.”

  “I play by the rules, I’m a hero, otherwise I’m a vigilante?”

  “I’m glad we understand each other.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t understand me at all. I’m retired. I’m not in your damned system.”

  “You put yourself into it when you became Old Dude with Yo-yo.” Greylan jerked a thumb toward the door. “Associating with someone like Doctor Sinisterion is not remaining outside the game.”<
br />
  I covered my face with a hand. I’d returned to Capital City to discover why someone had made me go away. Selene had been right about that, however. It made no difference. I tried being a hero again and was promptly shown the truth of its being a young man’s game. I couldn’t scare anyone anymore, and I’d failed to help in Little Asia. I was as far out of the game as it was possible to be, and yet they wouldn’t let me go.

  My hand fell away. “Greg, what is it about me that scares you so much?”

  He fought a denial, then met my stare. “You’ve lived outside the system for too long. You remember the way it was, but you only remember the good things, the things that make you feel good. You forget people crying and bleeding and dying in your arms.”

  “No, I have a pretty good memory of that, thanks. Quite fresh.”

  “You’re a rogue element, Castigan. You say you’re retired, but you can’t be. I am, but you saw me in Little Asia. There was a call, and I answered.”

  “But there’s the difference. I didn’t.”

  “So you tuck these away in your safe. You give them to the priests. Do whatever you want, but you have to remember that now you’re part of the system. You break the rules, you pay the price. Ignore the system and you pay an even greater price.”

  I frowned. “You think your system is so delicate that I can bring it down?”

  “If I thought that, Constitution’s warrant would already be signed and you’d be on a plane to the coast.”

  “You’d break your own rules to save your system?”

  He nodded.

  “And I’d get punished for doing the same thing.” I shook my head. “See, that’s the funny thing. Back in the day you played by the book. Now you get to write the book, and you play outside it. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Yes. The city’s lucky they have me looking out for them.” Greylan stared coldly. “I think we understand each other, don’t we, Castigan?”

 

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