Confessions of a D-List Supervillain

by Bernheimer, Jim; Hsieh, Fiona

  Kim rises. She’s decked out in bird feathers like some whacked out cult priestess and I don’t need that alien dude from the movies screaming, “It’s a trap!” to spot one. She says, “The Master comes!”

  “Anemone, go!” Sheila shouts.

  Sanford Marley Acojo, named after the great reggae singer and Red Foxx’s junk dealing funny man, springs into action. His pressurized spray jets would make a backyard water fighter drool with envy reaching up to one hundred feet. Our captives will get immobilized along with the lizard folks, but hopefully no blood will be shed.

  I’m already moving forward as the crystalline thing on the pitcher’s mound shimmers and something steps out. It’s some kind of portal. Without any evidence of a power supply, I have to classify it as magic. I’m expecting another lizard man, but he’s not. He, or it, is further along.

  “So these are the mammals that would dare challenge me!” His hiss booms in my mind like telepathy. My bad juju meter goes into overdrive and I throw caution to the wind, chucking forty millimeter high explosive at his ass a cutting loose with the mini. Darts of plasma energy spatter against some kind of shield and my grenades disappear in a series of pathetic poofs.

  Anemone screams, “Suck on this, mon!” and shoots thin streams of paralytic juice at this Master thing. With a wave of its clawed hand, the liquid forms into a ball which is sent spinning into She-Dozer and Chain Charmer. They both spasm and collapse.

  Shit! Our team is going down fast.

  “Hit him with everything you’ve got!” I bark to the remaining Guardians. The serpent’s magical shield absorbs all the punishment we can throw at it. Grenades vaporize, bolts of plasma and stun rays do nothing and all through it, I hear this mocking laughter in my mind!

  “Yes! Show me your power. Display your might and let me demonstrate how useless it is.”

  A three clawed hand snaps out and some kind of purplish energy slams into one of the clone’s suits. It topples over and then seconds later is joined by the other José.

  Andy is hit and he stumbles forward before freezing in place. My thermal imagery shows that all his power systems suddenly went off line. I call José at the base and tell him to get reinforcements before a bolt hits me too. I struggle up to one knee but everything stops.

  The suit’s systems lock up. The master alarm beeps for a second and dies a mute death. I can still see out my clear faceplate and look down at my hand that was trying to push me upright. In the limited light produced by the villain’s crystal portal gizmo, the metal is different.

  Stone?

  Stone?

  Stone!

  I’m stuck inside an effin’ statue. He ruined my suit! I’m going to kill him!

  “You think too loudly, mammal. All of you do! My name is unpronounceable to your, flat, ill-formed tongues, but you can call me Tyrannosorcerer Rex! I have awakened from my long slumber and will return this world to reptilian rule.”

  The lunatic goes on to bitch about his people rebelling against him until he called down the sky to slay all the traitors. Part of me is stunned. This whack job exterminated the dinosaurs and created the Gulf of Mexico? No effin’ way!

  “Oh, so you doubt my power, eh mammal? Was not reverting your metal to the base stone it came from enough to make you realize what you face? I see a further demonstration is in order. He waves his claw and Anemone enters my limited field of vision encased in some kind of translucent egg.

  “Watch apeling. Watch the birth of my new race!”

  Sanford begins quivering. The “egg” hatches and he falls out. Parts of him are bursting out of his costume. The gruesome event takes maybe two minutes, or a lifetime to play out while the lizard people near me sway and chant. The only thing good about it is that voice in my head is gone. Rex has his head pointed to the sky and is hissing to the beat of his faithful. Eventually one of those poison spitting dinosaurs from that one movie stands up where my teammate was. It approaches Rexxie and bends its head allowing the sorcerer to grasp it with a three clawed hand.

  With my suit’s evacuation systems also turned to stone, I feel urine running down my right leg and collecting at the knee.

  “Now for the strong female. She will make a good mate for my other great servant and will breed a new generation of mammal killers. Your turn will come soon.”

  As the presence leaves my mind, I search for anything that might help. In the faraway darkness, I see the shape of Roller. I give it the command to move toward me. It does! My neural net is still up. The powercell at the base of my neck is still intact. That means I can still control Floater as well. I just can’t see it.

  I don’t have much time. Sheila is already beginning her transformation and I could be next. I’ll attack from both sides. Floater goes first with missiles and then acting as a distraction. Roller will come in from the back. Will the pulse cannon be able to breach that shield? Screw it! I’ll detonate Roller at the bleachers behind home plate. Some of the shrapnel will have to get through.

  I issue my orders and do something I never do … pray.

  Sheila’s transformation is interrupted at the midpoint by twin darts of light. The serpent sorcerer barely gets up his shield in time and the impact causes him to stumble on his thick legs. There’s a quick burst of light as Floater explodes and I grimace from the feedback.

  The villain’s presence slams down on my mind, ripping at the fabric of my existence and I scream right through Roller’s explosion. The blast hurls people backward and shatters that crystal portal. My ears won’t stop ringing and all through it, I pray that this thing dies. I make bargains with gods I’ve never heard of. I even promise not to watch soft core porn ever again.

  In the middle of all this, I’m knocked over. I can still see straight ahead, but the angle has changed. The dust clears and I see Tyrannosorcerer Rex still standing behind his shield. No! No! No!

  Slowly, he turns in my direction and my life is flashing before my eyes. I’m going to die. This is it.

  The mage rears back and I prepare for the burst of energy that will finish me, but nothing comes. Rex wobbles and claws at his chest for a few seconds. Then, he drops to the ground and nothing. I can’t see any movement.

  • • •

  Time passes. There are intermittent screams of pain and moaning, but no other sounds. Mosquitoes land on my face and feast. I call out, but there is no answer.

  Finally, when I don’t think I can handle it anymore, Sheila appears. She staggers to over to Rex first, vomits and approaches. Sheila hefts me with ease. Putting me down like some kind of stupid lawn gnome, we look at each other. If she’s noticed that she’s pretty much naked, she doesn’t show it.

  “Cal, are you okay?” she whispers.

  “My suit’s been turned to stone! You?”

  “No need to scream. I turned back. Sanford did as well. What happened?”

  “I got Roller as close as I could and then activated the self-destruct. Is the bad guy dead?”

  “Yeah, it’s weird though, there’re some chunks of him ripped out, like they were never there. Listen, there are a lot of people injured and I think Kim is dead. I’m going to run back to my sled and get help. Do you need me to bust you out of there?”

  “No! No! Give it some time, maybe it’ll turn back like you did,” I probably sound a bit whiny there, but this is my suit we’re talking about! Desperation is in order.

  Left alone with only the cries of the injured to keep me company, I postulate on what happened. The crystal portal was outside of his shield. If the pieces of it were still active, they might have transported chunks of the reptile away, leaving him resembling an unfinished jigsaw puzzle. The scenario reminds me of that Croce song from the seventies.

  Technically, we won, but I won’t feel happy until my suit is back to normal. I already sacrificed my two robots.

  • • •

  Forty-five minutes later and happiness hasn’t shown up yet. I’m still an effin’ lawn ornament. The higher powers that grant
ed my requests felt the need to exact a price.

  “Give it up, Cal. It’s not happening.” Sheila says.

  “Just five more minutes. Please,” I sound like a kid being told to get off their game console and go to sleep.

  “Andy isn’t changing back. Neither of the José suits are turning back, and I’m sorry to say this, but your suit isn’t going to either.”

  I sigh in defeat. “Go ahead.”

  She takes her time, so as not to hurt me. “Are you crying?”

  “It’s dust in my eyes. Shut up!”

  When the front chest piece comes off, it’s like my heart breaking.

  • • •

  Andydroid stands motionless in the corner of the workshop. His face locked in a curious, but horrified expression, ironic in the fact that he never really showed that emotion. Kimodo did die and we pretend to mourn a teammate that turned out to be a Mata Hari in our midst. No one else on the team died, but the Bugler’s legs were broken and he’s out of the game for a time. We had a couple of mystic types in to look at Andy and the other goodies we recovered from Rex’s hidden lair. Only one had a solution for my best buddy and it was to turn the body into a golem that would answer orders. Most of them were interested in thumbing through the stuff we brought back and a couple of them made some offers, but I declined based on the idea that maybe I could find something in there that could help Andy. Also, I think some of them were lowballing me.

  The strangest thing coming out of this is that when the T-Rex reverted back into a human, it was none other than Hillbilly Bobby. Who’d have thought? Guess that explains why he disappeared. It added a whole new layer of “ewwww” to the mating T-Rex plan because Bobby and Sheila are second cousins. But even that odd fact doesn’t lift me out of the mood that I’m wallowing in and I wondered if Bobby was going to try and get his base back from me.

  My misery is compounded by discovering that even with a loan from Wendy, I’m having problems getting parts for a new set of armor. I’ve managed to locate enough synth-muscle to wire a leg. That’s about it. Someone is paying top dollar for all the things I need and making it impossible to locate synth-muscle and the command and control circuitry. I can only imagine who it is. Yeah right. Patterson and his company smell blood and in a not so shocking turn of events, a new armored villain named the RoboDestroyer surfaced in Florida and destroyed every single Type A I had there. Nothing else! Just my bots and source of income.

  Petty much!

  With no other alternative, I walk out of the workshop and into the monitor room and let them marvel at my inventiveness.

  “What’s with the get up?” José says, trying and failing not to laugh.

  “ManaCALes two point oh,” I say. “Twin wrist mounted force blasters, lightweight jet pack, Kevlar suit, helmet, and force field vest. It’s the best I can come up with.”

  I might as well be naked against even a dolt like Seawall, but it’s something. Hell, I’m back where I started when the Bugler was kicking my ass.

  Sheila inspects me, shrugs, welcomes me back to active duty, and gives me my patrol assignment.

  Two hours into it, I’m sitting on an ambulance gurney with a paramedic looking at my arm. The three bank robbers’ semi-automatic weapons fire brought down my limited shielding in less than a minute and I took a round in the left arm. Pissed off, I blew a hole the size of my wrist through one of them and the other two dropped their weapons like they were on fire.

  “You’re a new guy right?” The EMT asks me.

  I answer her dumbly, “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “Listen, maybe this is a wakeup call. Maybe you aren’t supposed to be doing this. I’m not trying to be cruel or anything, but you ought to think about a different line of work.”

  Searching my mind, I can’t come up with a decent argument. To sum things up, at the end of the Bug invasion, I had a cool suit, the girl, and a bright future. Now, I have a judgmental paramedic, a stinging pain in my arm, a costume that I would have laughed at, and no girl at all.

  Yeah, my future is so very bright right now.

  Chapter Ten

  Vindication Never Tasted So Bad

  “West Coast reporting everything is normal,” Patterson knows when my shifts are and calls in his team’s status personally. He does this on purpose just to screw with me. Without Andy, we’ve all had to pick up the slack on monitor duty.

  “GulfCoast reporting everything normal,” I answer.

  “Tell Wendy, I said welcome back.”

  “I will Ultraweapon. Are we done?” I reach to sever the connection.

  “For tonight we are, Stringel. Sleep tight.”

  • • •

  We all turn up, even Bugler in a wheel chair, to greet Wendy in the monitor room. I accept a hug and a peck on the cheek from the tiny tornado maker.

  “It will get better Cal,” she whispers in my ear. “I promise.”

  It’s a tiny beam of sunshine over my otherwise drab reality. I cling to it like a lifeline.

  Sheila still lets me patrol, but usually pairs me up with Chain Charmer. It’s kept me from further injuries, but her lack of faith in my new abilities has plunged to an all time low.

  After Wendy’s first meeting back, I am approached by the newly reduced in rank She-Dozer. “My agent is on the phone. Someone wants to meet with you.”

  “Does Patterson really think I’d fall for that again?”

  “No it’s legit. We established a code phrase that changes so I know it’s really him. The client says his name is Paul West. He says you know him from the old days. Do you?”

  It takes a second and then I put a name with the face. Paul was the buyer that replaced Vicky after she died. I feel strangely uncomfortable. “Yeah, I know him.”

  “Okay, I’ll have my agent text you his contact information and you can decide if you want to meet up with him. Let us know where and when and we can tag along if necessary.”

  “I’ll do that.” I lie. I can’t picture myself saying, “Hey guys, I’m about to go meet with The Evil Overlord’s chief weapons buyer. Anybody wanna come?”

  Now it just remains to be seen what Paul wants with me.

  • • •

  “Thank you for taking this meeting, Mister Stringel. It’s been a long time, but you look well.” We meet at a nondescript café in the French Quarter. I want a crowd around that I can lose myself in since I’m “incognito.” I’ve got my force blasters under the baggy shirt I’m wearing and the vest as well. It ain’t much, but I’m a pretty fast runner.

  “I’ve been better. How are things with you?”

  “There’s been a … how to say this, a downturn for my employer, but things are looking brighter every day.”

  “I didn’t think for a second that he was dead.”

  “Very astute as always, Mister Stringel.” He tips his cup of coffee to me and then sips.

  “So what’s this all about?”

  “A certain person seems to enjoy toying with your life. Isn’t that true? You find that even with money, you cannot acquire the things needed to construct a new suit.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that same person has a long history of making things difficult for my superior. Does he not?”

  “Very true.”

  “Then we have established some common ground. My superior would like to keep that person occupied pursuing petty vendettas while he is seeing to his holdings, consolidating matters, and awaiting the proper time to rejoin society.”

  I wonder what Overlord is up to, but it’s not like I’m in any position to stop him. “What does this have to do with me?”

  He pushes a pad of paper. “I have been instructed to be your benefactor. Write the items you require on this sheet and I will see to it that you receive them as soon as possible.”

  Too many times I’ve been burnt by things that sound too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”

  “Your mere existence infuriates the man who has caused my superior so much grief.
Is that not enough for you? I guess not. In that case, my superior has asked that you grant him a future consideration should he require your services.”

  “I don’t think that would go over terribly well given my current employment situation,” I reply, since we are talking in circles at the moment. “What about the robots that were destroyed?”

  “Those old relics were expendable. My superior was rather impressed at your industrious use for them. He can recognize talented individuals. Pity they have been removed. Regarding the service request, perhaps if it were limited to the downfall of our mutual adversary it would be more palatable?”

  My flexible morals are out on display executing a floorshow an Olympic gymnast would envy. Do I trust the Overlord? Hell no! He’s not a conventional supervillain. He has the power to detect when people lie to him and not much more, but he uses it with a savage ruthlessness that allows him to gain influence over people and plant spies or agents wherever he wants. He deals in favors and doesn’t hesitate to call them in when he needs something.

  Would accepting make me any different from someone like Athena, who’s willing to give someone like me the shaft on a moment’s notice? No. Then again, I never have pretended to be anything other than myself. A new suit will help extend my life expectancy, increase my value to the Guardians, and piss off Ultraweapon … though I’m not sure which order those last two should be in.

  I take the pen and begin writing with a speed that might even amaze Hermes. “Deal!”

  • • •

  “Where did you get the parts?” Wendy asks sneaking up and scaring the crap out of me. Synth-muscle and control circuits are spread all over the place. It’s halted my quest to find a solution for Andy. I’ve discovered that I am very “limited” in my magical potential, but there are various augments that could make me marginally stronger. My research and efforts to this point had allowed me to push a screw a few feet across a table and make it come back. Next week, I’ll move on to card tricks!