“When I awoke, I discovered my friend, and the only one who’d tried to save me, was dead. Fortunately, I had been doing experiments with Calvin Stringel to determine why he was so effective in comparison to your recent string of failures.”
“What are you saying, Andy?”
“I had an extensive library of brainwave patterns belonging to Cal Stringel. I merged them with my existing program. And so, in any situation, I simply ask myself what would Calvin Stringel do?”
And there it is, the Big Lie, coming to our rescue once more. Let’s see if they bite.
“I’m having a problem accepting this,” Stacy says, playing her part.
“Of course you are; I will use smaller words to make it easier for you to follow, Aphrodite. Strange, despite Athena never doing anything to me personally, I feel the odd compulsion to create a detailed list of your failings. The late Calvin Stringel truly did not like you. In fairness, your leadership record is only slightly below average and not an abject failure.”
Wiping that shit eating grin off my face is going to be a tough job, but for now, I’m enjoying it. That was actually rather fun, although I’m sure Andy is going to give me hell for making him say that.
“While I’m thinking of it, you might as well have this,” I say and toss the thumb drive with our sexual escapades on it. “I don’t exactly have a need for it anymore.”
Technically, that is true. Stacy let me make another copy and I have the real thing, which is much better.
“So, you’re using your base in Alabama?” Stacy asks.
“Nice try, but no. I cannot risk you getting your memory back, Barbie Doll. Besides, I think that idiot Bobby is using it again. We’ve got a nicer place now, but depending on how your paymasters continue to treat Wendy, we might be looking to relocate. The Caribbean is nice and I bet Havana would welcome us with open arms. They like WhirlWendy. The only people who do not appear to adore her are criminals and the United States government. Actually, since Columbia’s president is right here, we could discuss relocating down there.”
The look on Hera’s face is worth adding to my screensaver rotation, and unless my assumptions are off, Gravmatar would never want anyone more powerful than he is hanging around. Returning the USB drive would put an end to the occasional porn prospectors coming into the area.
Hera regroups. “You must understand that the government’s wary of a team of your caliber operating with no oversight.”
“They only deal in control,” I reply. “But it is you who need to be concerned. Patterson had you outclassed and you were getting beaten. My analysis of the footage indicates half your team would have been killed if we had not intervened. You did not perform well against the bugs and seem to lack the ability to adapt to your opponents’ increasing capabilities. The Olympians are in danger of becoming stagnant, so, I submit that you need to get your house in order rather than worry about what the New Renegades are doing.”
“Are we done here, Mega?” Larry asks. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
“That really depends on Hera and Gravmatar. Do you need any other questions answered for the politicians, or feel the need to have some kind of asinine fight?”
Gravmatar still looks like he wants to throw down, but Hera doesn’t. Back in the cave, I’m leaning over to give Wendy a fist bump when Stacy interrupts. “Radar detects a launch. Looks like fifty drones, five miles out!”
“It’s got to be the Overlord!” Wendy hisses and jumps up, heading to the poop chute.
I have to cut off the external speakers. “Don’t! Larry and I can handle this.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but I’m being pulled in different directions; dealing with her and listening to Hera bark orders.
Bringing up my shields, I begin looking for the wave of missiles. Of course the Overlord would have Mount Olympus under surveillance! I’d been so worried about the stupid Olympians that I forgot about the real villains.
“Hera? Do I stay or go? If it is the Overlord behind this, I am the target.”
“Stay,” she says, as the humans inside of Mount Olympus activate all the defenses. Gun emplacements, rebuilt after I destroyed them, activate and begin tracking the skies. This many attackers are beyond Hera’s forcefields.
Megasuit’s pulse cannons cycle up to full charge and I get a visual on the first wave of drones coming. It’s about ten, carrying an unspecified payload. This, naturally, creates a dilemma for the hero types on whether to shoot them down, risking the civilian population, or wait until the weaponry reaches the three mile “clear zone” surrounding Mount Olympus before engaging, which would only give us a short time to destroy fifty drones and their munitions.
The drones deploy their weapons, two missiles per, and suddenly the number of targets triples from fifty to one hundred and fifty.
“Red, can you throw up a barrier? Keep it close, so their defenses can stop as much as possible. Hera, throw your shield up behind it. One group of missiles is traveling faster than the other. That means we have three waves, if the drones themselves are on a suicide run.”
Hera agrees and shows Red where to put his energy wall up. The air defense cannons open up as Mount Olympus attempts to defend itself. Twenty-three missiles are destroyed and I begin firing, using four pulse cannons available. My railgun is useless in this case. The nice part is my power systems can support continuous firing for over two minutes, until the heat load becomes too much for the individual weapons to handle. Gravmatar emits a field of energy, causing several of the missiles to drop short and impact against the side of the mountain.
Stacy joins me with her pair of force blasters, while Athena hurls energy spears that detonate like proximity charges—never knew she could do that. Only five of the initial fifty strike Larry’s telekinetic barrier, but we shot our wad and will have to suffer the consequences.
Well over thirty missiles from the second wave hit, and Larry collapses under the strain, as his barrier snaps. Hera fills the gap adequately, but several strike the decorative stonework because the Olympian isn’t nearly as powerful as Larry Hitt.
Shards of imported marble spray against my shields as I move the suit over the prone form of my friend.
I start looking for the drones and see that half have changed their approach vector, but are still headed in our direction. The remaining ones begin firing darts of plasma energy at us. It isn’t especially effective and I’m beginning to believe that the Overlord is losing his touch, when the remaining twenty-five detonate simultaneously. Hera’s faltering shield keeps most of the shockwave from us, and to her credit, she’s still standing; even if it looks like a stiff breeze would knock her over.
Like that, the battle is over, but something doesn’t make sense. Those drones should have detonated much closer to us.
Andy contacts me on our private channel. “I am detecting increased levels of background radiation.”
“Stacy, rad alert!” I link her in. “Andy, what is it?”
“Anaylzing,” the robot responds. “It appears to be a cloud of highly refined particles containing a significant amount of radium-226.”
“That’s an alpha emitter, “I say. “Stacy, warn your team against breathing it in.”
“Larry’s mask should filter most of it out. What’s the threat level to the rest?”
“Minimal. The Olympians heal very quickly. Whatever sickness they experience should not be prolonged.”
“Then why do it?”
There’s a long pause before Andy replies. “The clothing and the surface of your armor will require decontamination. The likely scenario is that the mastermind behind this plot is going to use the alpha radiation emitted in an attempt to track his enemies. There is also another problem.”
Before I could ask, Gravmatar collapses and begins having some kind of violent seizure.
“High concentrations are known to affect Rigellian physiology.”
Hera shouts for Ares to wade through the fluctuating grav
ity fields and get Gravmatar inside.
“Oh, that’s sneaky,” Stacy says via our private link. “He’s after you, Cal. Obviously; he already knows where we are.”
“Tell the others, Stacy. I’m getting Larry out of here!” Scooping up the barely conscious Larry, I fire up my jetpack to leave while my girlfriend updates the remaining members of her team.
“Where are you going?” Stacy asks with her external speakers.
“The Overlord wants to know my location. I will make it easier for him to find me.”
“Then you’re going to need backup, Andydroid. You might not be the real Cal Stringel, but I can at least try to square the books with you.”
“If you really feel it is necessary, Aphrodite. I guess I will never understand you hero types.”
“Hera, I’m going with him.”
“Understood, Aphrodite. We’ll check out the launch site. Help is only a chariot ride away.”
Lifting off, I switch over to the private channel and ask, “What’s going on?”
“Well, you’re going to need someone to shove Larry up your butt. Where’re we going?”
“I’ve always wanted a woman to talk about shoving something up my ass. As to where I’m headed, it’s back to the location where we had our first date. Add it to the list of reasons to attack Branson, Missouri. A week ago, I saw Paul West there on a satellite image. I think I’m going to go pay him a visit and say hello. Are you sure you want to come along. I might just be going there to see what he’ll give up before I kill him.”
“Which do you want, Cal? His blood or a lead on the Overlord?”
“He’ll break one way or the other,” I reply.
“I can break him,” she says.
“Really?” I stammer. I didn’t expect that.
“Cal,” she says and gives a rather throaty laugh. “I’m not going to beat him up. He’s a man; I’m the incarnation of the Goddess of Love. The only thing I will break is Mr. West’s dark, twisted, little, heart.”
Having had my heart broken by her once before, I think Paul would be better off letting me kill him. It is less cruel.
Chapter Thirteen
Evicting Peter Pan from Neverland
We land briefly in a farmer’s field about sixty miles from Mount Olympus and I drag Larry into the barn. Stacy’s Centurion armor follows, and she helps get Red back up the poop chute.
On the other end, I wear some protective gloves and arm-sleeves to help pull him through. The strong radioisotope wouldn’t stand a chance of getting up to the surface, so our base remains secure, but I think it is a good idea to get him out of those contaminated clothes and into his spare costume while we bag up his other one. I worry about the radium exposure if it got into his lungs, but maybe his telekinetic powers shielded him, or can be used to remove it from his body.
“How should we clean our armor?” Stacy asks as Wendy and I drag Larry to the couch.
“They sometimes use a paste-like plastic substance that is applied then peeled off during decontamination, but I was thinking that we take a dip in that pool at the Overlord’s Branson estate. If that doesn’t work, you can lean on your Uncle Sam to get you the right decon equipment. Do you still have a watertight seal?”
“I’m good,” she answers.
“Any word on Gravmatar?”
“Our medical team is working on him, and Robin has sent the chariot to Columbia to bring his personal physicians. Even if he is imprisoned on our planet, I don’t like the idea of what the Rigellians would do if they find out he’s been killed. I was going to ask Apollo to pick us up after we got Larry back to you, but Gravmatar’s health takes precedence.”
“Did they find anything at the launch site?” I ask, and begin unsnapping Larry’s costume. No doubt, if Bobby was here he’d be doing his best rendition of a porn soundtrack and irritating the hell out of me. Wendy’s holding a bag wide open for me to roll the costume into. “Andy? Can you interface with the environmental controls and shut off the vents to this area, and to where Gabby is sleeping? Best not to even chance exposing her to this.”
“All they found is more traps left by the Overlord. Everything okay back at the base, Cal?”
“Larry’s a bit heavier than I recalled, but we’re managing.”
Wendy attaches some monitoring sensors to him and activates a handheld. Her small fortune significantly upgraded our medical capabilities beyond the old wall mounted first aid kits and assorted eyewash stations.
“Pulse is good. Blood pressure is slightly elevated,” she reads off the results.
“All things considered,” I say, and bag up his mask and shirt; followed by dumping my arm-sleeves and gloves into the thick biohazard bag. “He’s in pretty good shape for taking thirty-five missile hits in such a short span. I’m not sure that even with all the extra shield emitters Mega could’ve stopped that onslaught.”
“Do we move him up to his room or just let him stay here?”
“Carrying him over here was enough for me,” I say. “Besides, he’s going to want to take several showers to get anything we missed. I’m already going to have to pitch this couch. There’s no need to crap up anywhere else. In fact, why don’t you go take a long shower and remind me to take one before I handle Gabba Gabba Do?”
“Got it. Since you’ve got a long flight ahead of you, why don’t you let Andy run the suit, and you get cleaned up yourself? Oh, don’t start with that frown Stringel. Andy won’t take the suit into combat without you.”
I just don’t like anyone else, even my best android friend, controlling the armor. Possessive and insecure? That would be yes and yes.
Even so, I bow to Wendy’s sensibility and run down the checklist to surrender control of my pride and joy to someone who isn’t me. I also patch the scanner monitoring Larry’s vitals into Andy’s circuit so he can alert me if anything changes for the worse.
“Hurry back, Cal,” Stacy says. “You can finish your story as soon as you’re done showering.”
“Actually, if I patch the audio up to my bathroom, I can talk and shower at the same time.”
“Two things at once?” she mocks. “I wouldn’t want you to stress yourself.”
“Ha, ha. Funny. Too bad you aren’t here. It would make showering more fun. It’s a damned shame I don’t have a shard big enough to use as an escape hatch from your armor. Actually, I can start by transmitting you the video from my suit on the night I went to liberate Larry.”
“Do you have any idea how much panic that created when everyone found out he was missing?”
Knowing she can’t see my smile, I laugh and say, “Watching people run around in a panic is something of a habit of mine. Even when I’m shallow, I try to be deep.”
“Or full of shit,” Stacy’s zinger follows me up the steps.
“That too,” I acknowledge.
• • •
There wasn’t much to be said about the area surrounding Asheville, North Carolina. It was as scenic as any other part of Appalachia, and looked to be more exciting as the flat portions of Nebraska that dominated my childhood and became the motivating factor for me to do well in school, so that I could leave and never return. Even so, twenty miles northwest of the largest city in the western part of North Carolina was mostly mountains, the Appalachian Trail, and one really special facility.
It had been a strange ride since I got my acceptance and scholarship to UCLA. If I could go back and tell that wet behind his ears kid something, I wasn’t sure if I’d have him swallow the red pill or the blue one.
The green tint from my night vision gear gave everything an unearthly glow. This was also my first real time out in the armor rather than sitting in the control chair.
Imaginary Larry was a world class telekinetic, and I had no idea if his powers could somehow muck with the armor. Plus, there was something about being in the suit that made the heart pump a little faster, and provided an extra edge that remoting sometimes lacked.
Sometimes being a “ha
nds on kind of guy” is a good thing. Unless that crushes my ubersuit like a beer can; then it was a really bad idea.
Then again, I have that big shard installed in the tail section. I should be able to pull my legs up and slide right back through into the base if my suit gets a failing grade on the Imaginary Larry test.
Larry’s high school was more like a complex. Part of it is an actual old high school that’s been repurposed into a personal sanitarium. The nearby middle school, or at least that’s what Larry thought it to be, was an always manned, National Guard Armory.
I actually wasn’t too concerned with those dudes. It was three in the morning, and Larry was situated far enough away from any major population centers that the Olympians, and whatever reinforcements they could scrounge up, could recapture him before he got too far. He simply wasn’t worth the effort for the bad guys to control and transport to wherever they planned to unleash him. A few had tried and failed miserably, most notably General Devious who thought her own mental powers could soothe the savage beast.
Momentarily regaining his faculties didn’t sit well with him, and the General ordered a tactical withdrawal, with my old pal Maxine carrying her away at super speed, while Larry destroyed her floating throne chair and beat the snot out of her minions. The General’s catastrophic failure firmly established that only an idiot would ever try and free Larry from his padded cell.
Perhaps nature actually does abhor a vacuum, because it produced me—a bigger, better, idiot. A montage played in my mind of everyone I’d known who had, at one time or another, called me the “I” word, and it didn’t calm me.
“Is something wrong, Calvin?” Andy asked. The android was the only one I could recall who’d never accused me of being mentally challenged in some way, shape, or form.
“Just thinking of all the ways this can go wrong,” I replied.
“I am confident you will succeed. Based on the capabilities of your new Mechani-CAL suit, I estimate that you have a sixty-three percent chance of victory should you be forced to defend yourself from him.”
Secrets of a D-List Supervillain Page 21
