Marrow

by Preston Norton

  “Thank you so much, Havoc. Your service is greatly appreciated.”

  Havoc nodded and then shared a warning glance between Flex and me. “Don’t break anything.”

  He vanished, causing a slight ripple in the air.

  “I’ll break your face, Busta Rhymes,” Flex muttered under his breath.

  “Alright then,” said Dr. Jarvis, clapping his hands together. He looked way more excited than any scientist should ever be. “Let’s not leave Fantom waiting.”

  Dr. Jarvis led us onto a glass tube elevator on the inner circle of the Tartarus. As we descended, we were given an unobstructed view of Gaia and its elaborate surrounding infrastructure. Dozens of men in white contamination suits scurried back and forth within the metal and glass labyrinth of passageways built into the comet’s surface.

  I stared past them however. My gaze was pulled into the comet itself. The jagged edges like grasping claws . . . The green mist that seemed to take on a life of itself . . .

  Marrow . . .

  A voice entered my head like a haunting choir of voices conglomerated together.

  Can you hear me, Marrow?

  My vision distorted, crackling like radio interference.

  What are you hiding inside your head, Marrow?

  Something flashed before my eyes for a fraction of a second—a pair of glowing green eyes belonging to a face hidden in shadow.

  Brother is going to kill you, Marrow . . .

  CHAPTER 20

  “Marrow?”

  I blinked, snapping my head upright. Flex and Dr. Jarvis were both shooting me looks of concern.

  “You okay, Marrow?” Flex asked when I didn’t respond. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  I had no idea what I saw, but a ghost didn’t seem too far-fetched.

  “Er . . . yeah,” I mumbled in the most unconvincing way possible. “Hey, did . . . did you guys hear that?”

  Dr. Jarvis adjusted his glasses, eyeing me like I was an interesting science experiment.

  “Hear what?” Flex asked.

  “Uh . . . nothing,” I murmured. I didn’t feel comfortable recounting such a bizarre episode with some scientist here to analyze me. I would just tell Flex about it later.

  Maybe.

  Was I really so sleepy that I was hallucinating? This was definitely the last time I pulled an all-nighter with Flex.

  Those eyes . . . I couldn’t shake those eerie green eyes from my head.

  My gaze was inevitably drawn back to the gargantuan Cronus Cannon in a conscious effort to forget my awkward episode.

  “So how does the Cronus work anyway?” I asked.

  “It’s quite simple really,” said Dr. Jarvis. He seemed eager to move past my awkward moment. “Do you see that chamber that the Cronus Cannon is pointing into? When we place our subject inside that chamber, the Cronus basically extracts their power using Gaia’s own energy to draw it back into the comet.”

  “That whole big chamber is for one person?”

  “Well, there is also a sealed observation room built into the back of the chamber. But yes, you’re correct. It is a large chamber. We actually designed it to contain more than one subject if the need ever arose.”

  “How do you even know if this thing works?” I asked.

  “We have test subjects,” said Dr. Jarvis. “Kosher ones, of course. The government is fully aware of all our experimentation here.”

  “Who the heck would volunteer to be a test subject?” Flex asked.

  The elevator reached the lowest level with a sharp ding. The glass doors slid open to a sleek, white-paneled hallway. Muffled screeches, howls, and snarls resounded from the far end of the corridor.

  “Animals?” I asked.

  “Sort of,” said Dr. Jarvis, smiling knowingly. “Let me show you.”

  As he led us down the white hallway, the creature sounds grew louder. The hallway appeared to reach a dead end, but the wall was, in fact, a door, zipping open at our approach.

  The noise erupted to a deafening level. There were no windows in this chamber—only cages. Hundreds of them. Some had bars, others were sheets of durable glass or plastic, depending on the shape or size of the creature inside it.

  I had never seen creatures like these before.

  They all shared a similar aquatic appearance, but the similarities seemed to end there. Some were scaly, some were slimy, and some were shielded inside crustacean-like shells. But all of them were shockingly big. One looked like a hairless amphibian sub-species of grizzly bear, glazed in mucus. Another creature was a pile of squirming tentacles, at the center of which was a snapping, rotten-toothed maw. The creepiest one, however, was a gaunt, transparent-skinned creature with a hunched human-like body, underdeveloped fins in weird places, webbed claws, saucer-sized eyes, and a jaw full of needle teeth that had no skin to restrain its enormous mouth.

  My stomach roiled at the sight of this last creature. “What are these?”

  “Mutants,” said Dr. Jarvis. “Gaia’s nuclear fallout may have only affected humans on land, but in the ocean, the nearby sea life experienced drastic mutations. A large portion of our Gaia research has focused on the radioactive effects on these sea creatures.”

  “Sea creatures?” said Flex. “But . . . none of them are even in water.”

  “Yes, that would be because they all have lungs now.”

  “Lungs? How?”

  “Well, it’s rather simple if you believe in evolution,” said Dr. Jarvis. “If you believe that man came from apes which came from amphibians which came from fish which came from single-cell organisms, then it only makes sense. The radioactivity is speeding up their evolutionary processes. Warping them, yes, but speeding them up nonetheless. Using these creatures as Cronus test subjects, our purpose has been to reverse this evolution. If we can do that with these creatures, then we should be able to extract a Super’s power.”

  My gaze continued to wander throughout the lined cages of mutated creatures. It looked less like a science lab and more like a horror freak show.

  “Do you really need this many of them?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s always better to have too many than not enough,” said Dr. Jarvis. “Although . . . Fantom has found another use for them. In fact . . .”

  Dr. Jarvis didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he excitedly proceeded through the chamber of sea mutants. The tail of his lab coat fluttered at his quickened pace. He gestured for us to follow. Flex and I shared confused glances before trailing close behind.

  Amidst the noise of the creatures, a new sound emerged: a heavy thumping sound. There was no rhythm to it—merely a sporadic, resounding series of thuds.

  Boom. Boom, boom, boom. BOOM!

  Dr. Jarvis reached the end of the room, and the white door whizzed open. This new chamber was bigger than anything we’d entered thus far. It was more of an arena than anything else. We stood on an elevated walkway circling around a vast, cylindrical pit. The top was sealed shut by a slightly-domed glass ceiling, separating us from a long, deadly drop.

  Boom, BOOM!

  The sound was coming from below us, although this time it was followed by a roar that resonated with the force of a screaming train. Flex and I followed alongside Dr. Jarvis, approaching the glass.

  A monster lurched below us, sleek and gray. There was no neck connecting its broad head with the rest of its thick body. Its bulky face ended in a sharp, pointed snout. Serrated, razor teeth protruded from exposed gums. A curving dorsal fin sliced through the air. Its shark-like features ended there, however. Muscular arms and legs bulged out from its body, ending in webbed claws. Though the creature’s tail was much stumpier, it provided the balance needed for it to stand upright, exposing its white underbelly.

  “The creatures are excellent for combat training,” said Dr. Jarvis. “This is Specimen 751. Although we like to call him Thresher. Not the most scientifically accurate name considering that he’s a mutated great white. Not even a hint of thresher shark in him. We
just thought it sounded cool.”

  The monster’s small black eyes were trained on another figure in the cage.

  Fantom.

  Though he was still clad in his red and black jumpsuit, he wasn’t wearing his mask. It made him look that much more human and vulnerable. Nevertheless, he held his ground as Thresher lumbered forward. The chamber echoed with heavy, thundering footsteps. The creature’s dorsal fin swayed between its shoulder blades. Releasing another deafening roar, it lunged forward with gnashing teeth.

  Fantom did not react until the last second. Thrusting both hands out, he caught the mutant shark by the top and bottom halves of its jaws. Though he was a mere fraction of its size, his super strength brought the monster to a jarring halt. Fantom’s boots slid backwards on the stainless steel floor, but only a little bit. The creature struggled to snap its jaws, flinging saliva. Fantom slid his fingers between its jagged teeth for a better grip.

  I hadn’t noticed until now, but Dr. Jarvis stood beside a small control panel built along the glass. He ran his finger along the touchpad and pressed a digital button. A microphone buzzed softly from inside the glass.

  “Fantom,” said Dr. Jarvis, his voice reverberating, “I don’t mean to disturb you, but our guests have arrived.”

  Fantom nodded. Then he let go of Thresher.

  The mutant shark retaliated instantly, lunging forward and snapping. As before, Fantom held his ground.

  Then he swung his fist.

  It happened so fast, I barely saw it connect. Suddenly, the creature was spinning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, crashing to the ground. Even from our elevated vantage point, the floor jolted beneath my feet.

  “Holy crap,” I said, barely maintaining my balance. “That was cool.”

  “Wow,” said Flex, wide-eyed. “He made that look a little too easy.”

  It shouldn’t have been that surprising. We all knew the truth. Fantom made everything look easy. It was just crazy seeing him in action. The guy was pretty much Superman. Minus a weakness to Kryptonite or anything else out there. Oh, and he wasn’t a fictional character.

  Fantom leapt into the air, defying every law of physics as he soared toward us. His red cape rippled behind him. As he reached the glass, two vertical lines appeared, and a curving glass pane slid open. Fantom let gravity take over as he stepped onto the elevated circular walkway. The glass pane slid shut behind him.

  He looked even bigger in real life. His bodysuit hugged every bulging muscle on his body. His cleft chin was as defined as a baby’s butt, and I mean that in the coolest and most un-awkward way possible.

  “Marrow,” said Fantom, a smile spread across his square jaw. “Flex. So glad you two could make it. I hope I’m not interfering with your schedule.”

  He shook both of our hands. Mine was almost swallowed in his firm grip.

  “N-n-no, not at all,” I stammered before Flex could point out that this was usually the time of afternoon when he finally crawled out of bed and started playing video games.

  “Fantastic,” said Fantom. “Here, follow me. I’ll show you to my quarters. It’s a little more warm and inviting than all these mutants and gizmos.”

  Holy crap. Fantom was taking us to where he lived. This was infinitely cooler than any backstage pass I had ever heard of. Ever. Period.

  Fantom led the way around the curving elevated pathway to another elevator. This one was also a long glass cylinder ascending the outer Tartarus wall, but I was too preoccupied with our new guest to take notice of the exotic seascape. I wanted to touch Fantom’s face just to make sure he was real. Would that be weird? Yeah. Just a little bit. Bad idea.

  The glass elevator stopped, and the door slid open.

  “Welcome to my digs,” said Fantom, arms outstretched.

  The moment I stepped inside, I decided that this was the ultimate bachelor’s pad—a humongous studio-style living area decked out with sleek, curving, postmodern furniture, abstract paintings and sculptures that looked like they had wandered out of Picasso’s head, a piano, electric fireplace, and a high-tech kitchen that belonged on Star Trek or something. And then, if that wasn’t cool enough, two of the connecting walls were glass, providing a stunning view of the ocean depths. A school of blue-and-yellow-streaked fish drifted by and then scattered as a shark approached.

  Basically it was the coolest fish tank ever.

  Flex’s gaze wandered to several classic framed movie posters like Gone with the Wind, Casablanca, and Vertigo.

  “Movie buff, I take it?” said Flex.

  “Oh, I the classics,” said Fantom. “Sometimes I wish I was Clark Gable or Humphrey Bogart, living inside their beautifully scripted fictional worlds. Living every day as part of an epic masterpiece . . .”

  “Right,” I said. “Too bad you have to settle with being a Superhero celebrity living in a gazillion dollar underwater bachelor pad.”

  Fantom chuckled and gestured to the nearby sofa. “Make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you two anything to drink?”

  “I’ll have a bee—” Flex started to say, and then seemed to think better of it. “Coffee,” he said less excitedly. “I’ll have a coffee.”

  “Do you have any energy drinks?” I asked.

  Fantom chuckled as he strolled into the kitchen. “Sure do. Two caffeine rushes coming up. Rough night’s sleep, I take it?”

  “You could say that,” said Flex. “I wasn’t expecting so much publicity for beating the tar out of your sidekick. Er . . . no offense or anything.”

  “None taken,” said Fantom. His back was turned while he was fast at work on the drinks. “You know, I suspected something was wrong with Nero. He seemed distracted. Paranoid. Like something was hanging over his head. I figured he was just fidgety. I never would have expected he was capable of something like this.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “Me either.”

  It surprised me how bothered I was by Nero’s sudden turn. I hated his cheating guts, and now he’d finally gotten what he deserved. Right? Shouldn’t I be happy?

  “I invited you two here so I could thank you personally,” said Fantom. “Especially you, Marrow. From what I understand, this whole escapade started because of a certain Final Challenge.”

  “You heard about that?” I asked.

  “Oh, I know all about it,” said Fantom. He returned from the kitchen with a coffee mug in one hand and a clear glass filled with a fizzling yellow beverage and ice cubes in the other. “I’ve already had some experts look into it. Nero not only hindered your performance during the Challenge, but he telekinetically tampered with the machines monitoring his brain. Extremely advanced telekinesis. I can see why no one would have thought to look into it. So on behalf of everyone at FIST, I want to apologize.”

  I could barely hold onto my glass as Fantom handed it to me.

  “And since I no longer have a sidekick, I want to make you an offer,” he said.

  I knew where this was going. I couldn’t breathe.

  He was going to ask me to be his new sidekick.

  “Actually it’s an offer for both of you,” said Fantom, glancing to Flex. “I was wondering if you two wouldn’t mind doing an interview with me tomorrow on the Morning Show with Donnie Danson and a photo shoot with Cosmo Talk magazine afterward. I’ve already talked to them and they’d love to have you on board.”

  Okay, maybe not an offer to be his new sidekick. But an interview with Fantom was easily the next best thing.

  Flex pretended to nod casually. “Yeah, I think we can squeeze that into our schedule.”

  “Great,” said Fantom, clapping his hands together. “I’ll let my publicity manager know.”

  He seated himself across from us and crossed his legs. His cheerful countenance took on a subtle seriousness.

  “Now with that out of the way . . . I’ve been meaning to ask you some questions, Marrow.”

  “About what?” I asked. As if I didn’t know.

  “Well, for starters, I understand that Oracle
showed you her most recent premonition—a battle between your father and me. And then you were kidnapped and interrogated by some unknown Super named Nightmare who seemed to express great interest in this visit.”

  “Yep,” I said, perhaps a little too nonchalantly. “Pretty much.”

  “Interesting,” said Fantom. He leaned forward, interlocking his fingers. “I know this may be hard for you to hear, but I think it’s obvious your father is planning something big. Maybe something that could destroy this whole city. I need you, Marrow. I need you to help me stop your father. I need you to tell me everything.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Something didn’t feel right.

  I told Fantom everything I knew. None of which made any sense. In fact, it seemed to make even less sense as I repeated it to Fantom. Nightmare’s dream interrogation, his supposed interest in my visit with Oracle, and his association with my father. Nero’s sudden attack was the cherry to top it all off. It hurt my head just thinking about how none of the pieces seemed to fit.

  I couldn’t think. And every time I tried, my mind drifted to Nero. His words still haunted me.

  I’m here to kill you, Marrow.

  I’d already beat the skinny little punk. Why did his stupid threat still bother me? I couldn’t figure it out. Something wasn’t right.

  And then there was the ticking sound. Before it had only been in brief, infrequent spurts. But now it never seemed to stop.

  Tick tooock tick tick…tick tooock tooock tick…tooock tooock…

  Top that off with my episode on the Tartarus—that otherworldly voice, those glowing green eyes—and it was official. I was going insane.

  I hoped that our interview on The Cosmo Show with Donnie Danson would make me feel better. The sheer spectacle of it was definitely a distraction. The CTN (Cosmo Television Network) tower was the tallest tower in all of Cosmo City, slicing through clouds and pollution like a knife. The inside was just as stunning—a sleek composition of hard edges with slanting and curving walls. As we moved past the lobby, every room and hallway seemed to share an artistic asymmetry.

  I had caught glimpses of The Cosmo Show on TV, but it hardly compared to what the studio looked like in person. It was like a planetarium on steroids. The domed studio ceiling was adorned with holographic images of swirling galaxies and sprawling nebula clouds. The longer I stared at it the more I felt like gravity was going to reverse, and I would topple aimlessly into outer space.