I didn’t understand. I thought Neha’s mother was dead, murdered by men who had broken into the Thakores’ home almost twenty years ago.
I got a better look at Rati as Doctor Alchemy rolled the chair directly in front of me. Though Rati’s flesh looked natural, she was completely still. She did not breathe or blink. Her eyes were as lifeless as a doll’s. She had looked lifelike at first glance, but I now realized she was as dead and inanimate as a wax flower. I began to understand what Neha meant when she had obliquely and disapprovingly mentioned what her father had done to her mother. I decided it would be wise to not point out to Doctor Alchemy the dead elephant in the room. As mercurial as he was, who knew how he would react.
With my attention consumed by Doctor Alchemy and the disturbing corpse of his wife, I did not realize at first that another person had come in after Doctor Alchemy. An elderly white man with sad eyes and a fringe of white hair around his otherwise bald head had shuffled in after the Thakores. He stood in the corner of the room, with his eyes facing the wall, like a naughty child in time-out. He wore pants and a tunic that were the same color as the dresses of the women against the wall. He had the same choker around his neck they did.
Here I was, immobilized, powerless and spread-eagle, faced by two live women who stared into forever, a dead woman who stared at nothing, an old man who stared at the corner, and a Rogue who stared at me with venomous hate. If mama had told me there would be days like this, I wouldn’t have believed her.
When a situation arose I did not know how to handle, I often thought of four letters: WWAD—what would Avatar do? How would Avatar play this? I asked myself. Cool, calm, and confident with a hint of cocky, I decided.
“I was just telling the ladies that I would help them pass the time by juggling,” I said to Doctor Alchemy. “Now that you’re here, you can help. It turns out I’m fresh out of balls. You got any I can borrow?”
Doctor Alchemy stepped forward wordlessly. He slapped me with an open hand, so hard that my head twisted to the side. I tasted iron. My ears rang. The blow did my pounding head no favors.
I spit out a mouthful of blood. I turned my head back to face Doctor Alchemy. “Slapping someone who can’t hit you back? Looks like you don’t have any balls either. How about knives? I’m not picky. I can juggle them just as easily.”
“I did not bring you here to listen to your feeble attempts at wit,” Doctor Alchemy snarled.
“A shame. I’ve got plenty more attempts where that one came from. Why did you bring me here, then? To spruce the place up some? Mission accomplished.” Channeling my inner Avatar had turned me into a smart-ass. How smart could I be, though, if I couldn’t figure a way out of this predicament? “Where is here, anyway?”
“You are in my volcanic lair. As for why, I brought you here to kill you.”
“Didn’t you try to do that in Astor City? Yet I’m still very much alive and kicking.” I remembered the restraints on my legs. “Well, not so much the kicking part. More like alive and twitching. I hope to be kicking again shortly, though. One should always dream big. What makes you think an assassination attempt will work this time?”
“A quick death is too good for the likes of you,” he said. “In Astor City I merely hit you with a substance that simulated death so the Revengers would think I had killed you. I never intended you to die so easily. I brought you here so my beautiful wife can bear witness to your humiliation and death for killing our blessed daughter Neha.”
A hot surge of anger got the best of me, sweeping away my faux Avatar-like calmness. “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t kill her? I loved her. I tried to save her.”
Doctor Alchemy slapped me again, on the other side of my face. Fresh pain exploded on my face. At least my bruises would be symmetrical.
“How dare you say you loved her,” he said. He stuck his face into mine, so close that his facial hair almost grazed me. His breath was hot on my face. His eyes glittered like brown topaz. The fact he was completely calm rather than snarling as he had been before made him all the more terrifying. “A man who loves a woman protects her. With all the power you possess, you should have found a way to ensure Neha’s safety. Look at the lengths I went to bring my beautiful Rati back to life after her murder. You did not love Neha. The fact she is not alive today proves you did not.”
Doctor Alchemy stopped, cocking his head toward his wife, as if he was listening to her. “You are exactly right, Mother,” he said after a few seconds. “Omega let Neha die to prevent the three of us from reuniting. He knew the world would not be able to stand against us once the Thakore family was together again.” Doctor Alchemy shook his head in disgust. “And they say I’m the bad guy.”
I didn’t say anything. What was there to say that would change this madman’s mind? Doctor Alchemy was even crazier than Neha had said, crazier than his reputation and exploits indicated. He treated his long-dead wife as if she were still alive. He even thought she talked to him.
And, there was another key reason why I did not argue with him: Part of me thought he was right. A Hero as powerful as I should have found a way to save Neha’s life. The failure to do so would haunt me until the day I died. It seemed that day would come much sooner than I would have guessed just a week ago.
Doctor Alchemy said, still calmly, “Everyone who had a hand in Neha’s murder will die. Unfortunately, despite using my formidable resources, Millennium is nowhere to be found. Mechano you have already destroyed. Seer died at my hands a few days ago in MetaHold. I used this gun, as a matter of fact.” He patted his sidearm affectionately. “I kept it as a trophy. Perhaps I will use it to shoot you in the head just as I did with her.
“But, before the happy moment of ventilating your insignificant brains arrives, Mother and I will have the satisfaction of seeing you betray your friends just as you betrayed Neha by letting her die. You will tell me Myth’s real name and where I can find him. Then I will kill him for his involvement in Neha’s death. You will go to your grave mortified, broken-hearted, knowing you betrayed everyone who was foolish enough to call you friend.
Doctor Alchemy’s words shocked and confused me. Seer was dead? Though I wouldn’t cry myself to sleep over her death—that pale-skinned bitch had helped kill Neha and nearly killed me—it was still a surprise. If MetaHold had informed me Doctor Alchemy had killed Seer, maybe I would have been better prepared for him. Then again, the Department of Metahuman Affairs and the rest of the federal government were hardly known for their sparkling efficiency. That inefficiency was probably why the USDMA hadn’t contacted me when Iceburn and Brown Recluse escaped MetaHold.
I was also confused by how Doctor Alchemy did not already know Myth’s true identity. Elemental Man was Isaac’s stepbrother. Surely he had told Doctor Alchemy everything he knew about Isaac, especially since he and Isaac hated one another. If Elemental Man had been loyal enough to Isaac to not spill his guts to Doctor Alchemy, I was almost sorry I had kicked him in the leg in Astor City. Almost.
Regardless, if Doctor Alchemy had not gotten information about Isaac out of Elemental Man, he sure as hell wasn’t going to get it out of me. Isaac was my best friend. There was no way I would betray him. “Myth has nothing to do with this,” I said. “He wasn’t even there when Neha died.”
“Exactly!” Doctor Alchemy said triumphantly, as if I had just confessed Isaac had assassinated John F. Kennedy. “Like you, he professes to have been Neha’s friend. Yet he was not even loyal enough to her to attempt to rescue her from the Sentinels. Instead, he idiotically let you face them alone. And Neha paid the price for your and his foolishness. For that, he will die. Just as you will once you tell me what I want to know.”
“Well it looks like I’m going to live forever then. Because I’m not telling you anything.” Back in WWAD mode, I wrinkled my nose. “Except to say you need to pop a breath mint. For someone who calls himself doctor, your halitosis and bedside manner leave a lot to be desired.”
Doctor Alch
emy smiled broadly at his wife like I had just told him he had won the lottery. “You see, Mother? I told you the prideful young fool would not tell us without prodding.”
Doctor Alchemy walked over to the table against the front wall. He returned holding a long piece of flexible metal that looked like a knight’s chain mail, only with bigger holes between the links of metal. His other hand held an open straight razor like you’d find in an old-fashioned barber shop. The business end of the razor gleamed ominously under the room’s lights.
“No thanks. I shaved a couple of days ago,” I said. “I’m going for that stubbly, ruggedly Heroic look.” It was much easier to sound tough than to be tough. Despite my bravado, I felt like I was about to pee my suit.
Doctor Alchemy smiled sadistically. “Your fear belies your words. It’s so palpable, I can almost smell it.”
“Nah. That’s your halitosis. Fear and bad breath smell a lot alike. It’s an easy mistake to make.”
“You’re right that I’m going to give you a shave,” Doctor Alchemy said as if I had not spoken. I guess he was not big on constructive criticism. “Only it is not your hair I will shave. Tell me Theodore, have you heard of death by a thousand cuts?”
“No. But hum a few bars and I’ll try to sing along.” I noticed he had used my real name. I didn’t ask how he knew it. I had bigger and more pressing problems than my secret identity no longer being a secret.
“Also known as lingchi and the lingering death, death by a thousand cuts is a method of torture invented by the Chinese,” he said, again acting as though I had not spoken. He had everything ass-backward—he heard things his wife did not say, and didn’t hear things I actually said. “An ancient and glorious culture, the Chinese. Not as ancient or as glorious as that of us Indians, of course, but no one is perfect. Except for my beautiful Rati.” He waved the chain mail in my face. It rustled like a rattlesnake. “First I will wrap this around your flesh. It has holes that, when the metal is wrapped tightly enough, your skin will protrude through. I will then use this razor to cut your flesh, literally skinning you one tiny bit of flesh at a time. The process is quite excruciating. Or so the people I have subjected this to have told me with their screams of agony.” Doctor Alchemy’s face took on a thoughtful cast as my skin crawled. “I wonder how long you will last before you break and betray your friend Myth?”
He paused, again tilting his head toward his wife’s lifeless body. “A few minutes, you say Mother? You give young Theodore insufficient credit. I think he will withstand my gentle ministrations at least a couple of hours. He does fancy himself to be a Hero, after all. Surely his ego and self-image will bolster his willpower for that long.”
Doctor Alchemy’s face suddenly twisted, becoming wild and feral. He got in my face again. “I will break you,” he hissed. “I will make you betray the person you hold dearest. Just as you betrayed the person my wife and I held the dearest. But when you break, when you do betray Myth, your ordeal will not be over. Far from it. I will continue to slit bits of flesh off you. If I proceed carefully enough, slowly enough, you will live through the process of me slicing your skin away bit by excruciating bit. If the torment you will experience can be called living. I will make you pray you had never been born. You will rue the day you slid out of you mother’s diseased vagina. You will curse your father’s name for impregnating her with his defective sperm.” Flecks of saliva flew out of his mouth, hitting my face. Spit bubbled out of the corners of his mouth. “At first, you will hate me for what I will do to you. But once I have finished, once I have peeled your skin away like a rotten apple’s, you will thank me with love and gratitude in your voice when I finally deign to give you sweet release from your agony.”
The room fell quiet as Doctor Alchemy let all that sink in.
Then I smiled gamely.
“Sounds like fun,” I said. “Let’s get started.”
Doctor Alchemy stepped back, recoiling as if it was I who had slapped him for a change. He looked surprised, an emotion I was unaccustomed to seeing on his face. I had only seen supreme confidence, loony bin craziness, or a combination of the two.
Then, Doctor Alchemy chuckled. The chuckle grew until he was laughing like a hyena. The maniacal laugh reverberated off the walls. Doctor Alchemy doubled over with laughter, clutching his wife’s lifeless shoulder to keep from falling over. The whole scene was bizarre. It was like watching a remake of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. “Now with extra crazy!” the tagline would read.
Eventually, the Rogue’s laughter faded. He straightened up.
“Mother, I begin to understand what our daughter saw in young Theodore. If I did not hate him so much, I might actually like him.” Still chuckling slightly, he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes with his costume’s sleeve. “Since you are so eager to begin Theodore, we shall do so at once. But first I need you to tell me how to remove your costume. We tried to remove it while you were unconscious, but proved unable to do so. We tried cutting it off you. We used every solvent available to me to dissolve it. We even tried to burn it off, but could not do so much as singe it.”
It was my turn to laugh. “You really expect me to make it easier for you to do your tai chi on me?”
“Lingchi,” Doctor Alchemy corrected, stomping his foot in irritation. I knew he had called it lingchi, but I was being deliberately annoying. The prospect of being tortured to death did not put me in the best of moods.
“Tomato, tomahto,” I said. “I don’t care how you say it. Right now, I’m too busy relaxing and staring at this wall to find the time to help you torture me. Ask again later and maybe I’ll be able to squeeze you in. I think I have an opening on my calendar the first day of never.”
Doctor Alchemy frowned slightly. Then he drew the big gun hanging from his belt. I thought he was going to shoot me with it. I knew the Omega suit could withstand a traditional bullet, though it would still hurt like hell. This gun did not look like it shot traditional bullets, though. Instead, Doctor stepped over to the blonde standing against the wall.
“What’s your name?” he asked her. She was young, probably no older than I.
“Tiffany, my lord.” She spoke to him the way a devout Christian might speak to Jesus.
“Ah yes, I remember know. I liberated you from your humdrum existence just a few weeks ago, during my raid on Fort Knox. You were a clerk there.”
“Yes, my lord.” She seemed thrilled he remembered her. Her adoration of Doctor Alchemy was that of a dog to her master. If she had been a dog, she would be wagging her tail gleefully.
“You may stop calling me ‘my lord.’ Though I know it’s protocol, everyone here knows who their master is.” I most certainly didn’t, but Doctor Alchemy hadn’t asked me. If he had, he wouldn’t like the answer. He said to Tiffany, “And you’re married. I recall ordering you to surrender to my treasury your engagement and wedding rings. Any children?”
“Two. A four-year-old girl and a two-year-old boy.”
“And you love them?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Do you love me more?”
“Oh yes, certainly.” From her tone, it was like he had asked her if water was wet.
Doctor Alchemy stroked Tiffany’s cheek affectionately, like a father touching his child.
“Of course you do.” He handed her the futuristic gun. Now that he had established how much Tiffany loved him, I expected him to tell her to threaten to shoot me. I steeled myself. If the Omega suit could not stop the bullet, being shot was still a heck of a lot better than being sliced to pieces.
“Shoot yourself in the head,” Doctor Alchemy told Tiffany.
“No!” I cried.
Too late. Like a dog eager to perform a trick, Tiffany smiled broadly as she raised the gun to her temple. She pulled the trigger. The blast in the enclosed room was deafening.
Blood, brains, and bone splattered the beige wall behind Tiffany. The gory result looked like a madman’s abstract painting. Tiffany’s body, missing
most of the top of her head, toppled to the floor. The dull thump of her hitting the floor mingled with the clatter of the fallen gun. Streams of Tiffany’s blood began treks across the gently sloping floor toward the drain under my feet. The smell of blood, strong and metallic, filled the air. My stomach churned, threatening to spew. Bitter bile rose into my mouth.
Neither the other woman nor the old man in the corner had flinched during all this. Only Doctor Alchemy moved. He bent over and retrieved the gun. Blood coated its muzzle.
“I knew this gun would come in handy again. How clever of me to have held onto it,” Doctor Alchemy said. Then he glanced at Tiffany’s oozing body. “Look at the mess you made, my dear. I have half a mind to reanimate you and make you clean it up. I suppose it’s not worth the time and trouble. There’s plenty more like you.” He handed the gun to the other woman. She took it with the same dumb smile on her face Tiffany had. “What do you say, Theodore? Shall we perform emergency brain surgery on this one too? I have nearly five hundred other subjects here who would be happy to be operated on if this second procedure isn’t a success.”
I wanted to curse him, to threaten him, to tell him what I was going to do to him. No, what I really wanted to do was break free of my bonds and do unto him as he had done unto Tiffany. But what good would cursing or vain struggling do?
Instead, without a word, I let the Omega suit withdraw into my body. It tickled slightly as it always did. Now I was as naked as a newborn. Goosebumps rose on my bare skin from a combination of a chill in the air, anger, revulsion, shame at being naked in front of others, and lots of fear. I could have expelled the suit from my body instead of absorbing it, but I wasn’t about to risk Doctor Alchemy getting his hands on it. He was dangerous enough as it was. Also, if I expelled it from my body, I had no idea if I could absorb it again. It was not like the Omega suit had come equipped with an owner’s manual.
Rogues Page 23
