Love for the Cold-Blooded. Or

by Alex Gabriel

  As Pat watched, his mom’s tail sliced through the air like a whip, lashing over her shoulder as she ducked with inhuman agility. She struck the side of Nexus’ cycle a glancing blow, tried to follow up with a second strike that couldn’t have failed to bring the hoagie down. But the hit never connected. Nexus rolled her cycle in midair — which, who did that, was she insane? That shouldn’t even have been possible! — and batted the tip of Serpentissima’s tail aside with enough force to knock it all the way into the column of Hero’s Bane pouring from the ceiling.

  A low gasp went up from the Sluts clustered around Pat. Pat himself was too shocked to make a sound.

  Before he could begin to panic, Serpentissima had drawn back her tail, lashing it threateningly through the air. A large crystal glittered at the tip.

  Pat’s relief was intense, but layered thickly with apprehension. This was not a good situation.

  Nexus laid down a constant barrage of laser fire as she spun and dodged through the air, never repeating the same maneuver twice. Serpentissima couldn’t dodge all the shots, hemmed in as she was, but it didn’t matter; her scales deflected laser rays as effectively as bullets. Nexus must have known that too, yet she didn’t stop shooting. Energy sparked off Serpentissima’s chest, her side, her throat and face; all the way down her belly, sweeping from side to side…

  She was looking for a weak spot, Pat realized. If Nexus could find a chink in Serpentissima’s armor… a spot she could then target with her cycle, perhaps, driving straight at it as she had tried to right at the start…

  No. No — Pat had no idea whether or not some areas of his mother’s scales were more vulnerable than others, but he wasn’t willing to stand around and find out like this. There had to be something he could do. Something —

  But he never got the chance to do more than look around, searching frantically for inspiration.

  Pat glimpsed her from the corner of one eye, a mere hint of rapidly working limbs and grim purpose, racing low over the cavern floor. Hell! He’d lost track of her — hadn’t even realized she’d come down into the cavern.

  He turned his head just in time to watch her launch into the air, levering herself upwards with what looked like a bamboo cane from one of the plants.

  It was as though Pat were watching events unfold in slow motion, with time enough to observe every detail. How Hell’s hands gripped the improvised pole; how her battle suit gleamed with reflected laser fire. How she rose into the air, perfectly balanced, feet swinging forward as she arched higher. Hell was beautiful and terrifying, a primal, unstoppable force. A glorious sight to behold.

  She let go of the bamboo pole at the zenith of her arch. It clattered unheeded to the ground before the lowest step to the dais while she hurtled through the air, aimed right at the spot where Nexus and Serpentissima were locked in battle.

  Hell couldn’t have known where Nexus’s random weaving would take her, couldn’t have anticipated that she would be in the spot that Hell aimed herself at like a missile. She couldn’t have known… and yet she did.

  Nexus was at the low point of one of her maneuvers when Hell reached her. She turned right into Hell’s path, not realizing her danger.

  A loud, solid thunk sounded as Hell’s boots connected with the hero’s side. With the force of Hell’s momentum behind it, the impact was devastating. Nexus was torn from her cycle, carried straight into the still-flowing stream of Hero’s Bane, where she caught up against the frozen form of Ariadne and immediately crystallized.

  Hell couldn’t stop in mid-air, of course. She followed Nexus into the amber, hardening to crystal in almost the same instant.

  Hell’s crystal ended up on top of Nexus’ when they both clattered to the ground. Pat only caught a short unimpeded glimpse before the ever-flowing amber obscured it, but her fierce, triumphant grin was impossible to miss.

  “Hell yeah!” Pat punched a fist into the air, beaming with victory and pride. He’d always known his big sister would make an awesome challenger one day — he just hadn’t realized she was already there.

  In the stunned silence after Nexus’ aircycle crashed against the cavern wall, someone began to clap. Tom, Pat saw when he looked around. The other Serpent Sluts joined in after a brief delay. There were even a few whoops, and more than a few cries of “Hell yeah” that echoed Pat’s earlier outburst. Too bad Hell couldn’t hear the accolades right now, but it was fine. Once they’d thawed her out, she’d be able to watch the recordings of the moment as many times as she liked, from a dozen different angles and in stereo surround sound.

  Pat hoped Hell would appreciate her new catchphrase. He was rather thrilled with himself for coming up with something so brilliant — and on the fly, too, without even thinking about it first. Hell yeah, indeed.

  Serpentissima glided down from the dais, sinuously making her way between the thick, sluggish trail of congealing Hero’s Bane and various bits of the debris that now littered the cavern. From the side of the cavern, faithful Marlene wound swiftly to her side; the crafty old snake had managed to free herself from Ariadne’s bindings. Serpentissima stooped to hold out a hand, letting her climb up to her shoulders, and Marlene settled with comfortable familiarity, bumping her head against her old comrade’s jaw with casual affection.

  There was no glow of power about Serpentissima now — after the pitched battle she had just fought, she needed time to regenerate. Even her unbound hair was curling and uncurling with markedly less energy than before. Her gown was ripped at the shoulder and blackened by laser fire all along the front; the fine scales of her belly were darkened and discolored in some places, bruised by impact where Nexus’ aircycle must have swiped her, and singed by the heavy artillery Nexus had brought to bear. But for all that she looked singed and tired, Serpentissima’s smile was as slow, sure and wicked as ever.

  The Serpent Rising swept a slow glance over her severely diminished ranks. Every one of the remaining minions was a Serpent Slut. Pat couldn’t help but feel a fierce surge of pride at the fact. Sure, they’d soon have Zen and the others peeled out of their yarn cocoons, but right now, Pat’s underlings were the last minions standing. Pretty damn cool, right?

  Pat fistpumped in triumph and gave his mom his best cocky grin. She failed to fistpump back, but he was pretty sure he caught her mouth quirking with amusement.

  “You have distinguished yourselves greatly, my loyal minions,” Serpentissima said to all of them. The proud, triumphant gleam of her eye as she inclined her head made every Slut’s back straighten, chins coming up with new confidence. “The courage and strength you have shown this day will live on in my memory forever. It’s been an extraordinary showdown so far, and we have mastered all challenges to come our way. That not everything has gone according to plan — what of that? That’s why we have Plan B. We shall face many additional challenges before the day is done, and we shall master them all with the same spirit.”

  Under the cover of a spontaneous smattering of applause, Pat crept forward and leaned in conspiratorially, beckoning to his mom until she bent down so he could whisper in her ear. “Hey, so… What exactly is Plan B again?”

  Marlene stretched up to touch a mocking tongue to the tip of his nose, even as Serpentissima tousled his hair reprovingly. “Why, Plan B is always the same, Patrick. Improvise.” The grin she wore as she reared back to her full height reminded Pat (strangely) of himself.

  Her gaze slid over Pat’s shoulder to fix on something behind him — something located just where the passages to the labs were — and her expression transformed into an exultant glow.

  “Our additional challenges await, my minions.” The deep, foreboding resonance and sibilant echoes were back in Serpentissima’s voice, slithering through the cavern in a hissing whisper. Her scales were beginning to glow, surrounding her with a faint bronze nimbus that announced she had already gained new energy. “It is time for us to see to our remaining guests.”

  Pat whirled to see Silver Paladin and Captain Cool frame
d in the mouth of the passageway. For one endless, adrenaline-suspended moment they seemed to hover motionlessly in stock heroic poses, Silver Paladin stretched out mid-flight, Captain Cool bent low over the handlebars of his CoolCycle. Then, the world lurched back into motion and the heroes burst into the cavern proper, veering away from each other at once so as not to offer an easy target.

  It was a little embarrassing how Pat’s heart leapt at the sight of Silver Paladin. Still, it had been a few days — they’d both been busy, and hadn’t found the time to meet up. So on reflection, nah. Not embarrassing at all.

  Pat’s attention clung so insistently to Silver Paladin (who, in Pat’s defense, was looking particularly trim, silver and hot) that it took him a moment to realize Captain Cool wasn’t the only person on the CoolCycle. Behind Cap, a large angular crystal was strapped to the seat: Cea, frozen in the act of making a spirited indecent gesture with both hands (which, by the way, was a thing of brilliance and beauty, and the reason why she was Pat’s favorite middle sister of all times).

  It took Pat another moment to register that both Silver Paladin and Captain Cool were somewhat the worse for wear. Nothing seemed to have gotten through Silver Paladin’s force fields, but they hummed more loudly than usual, with a slight irregular hitch to the sound. Cap Cool’s usually immaculate costume was streaked with what appeared to be green slime, and the CoolCycle’s chrome mufflers and extended handlebars were scraped and dented.

  And then Silver Paladin’s visor turned towards Pat, and his jaw dropped open in shocked recognition. It actually, literally dropped. Pat hadn’t thought that ever happened, outside of metaphor.

  Pat could see the word coalesce in the man’s mind, could watch it leap from his brain to his mouth. In fact, his mouth was already opening — drawing in breath to bark out the same damn word every hoagie in the entire damn world invariably barked out on catching sight of Pat, as though the letters were tattooed on his forehead along with the instructions ‘to be shouted in a tone of moral outrage’.

  “Yes, it’s me!” Pat yelled wildly, cutting him off. “It’s me, alright? Don’t say it, for the gods’ sake!”

  Nick snapped his mouth shut and didn’t say it, or anything else.

  The silence was absolute, but very brief.

  “You!” Serpentissima roared.

  Chapter Seventeen

  All things come to those who lurk. Skulking is also an option.

  “Your scent is all over my son’s lair!” Serpentissima was still roaring; Pat had to fight the urge to cover his ears. Her tail lashed back and forth with more agitation than she’d shown during the entire battle with Nexus and Ariadne. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you? You’re the young man he’s been seeing! You!”

  Nick’s force fields flickered, radiating a brief buzzing sound that was every bit as grating as the screech of nails on a blackboard. “He’s your son?”

  “Oh man,” muttered Pat.

  He should have kept quiet, because now both of them turned to face him. Two near-identical stares of condemnation (one glowing crimson, one flat black) seared into Pat, almost making him reel back.

  Pat kinda wanted to duck. He was pretty sure that if he wasn’t already flushed redder than a red thing, then it wouldn’t be long. “What?” Seriously, like he’d planned this? Any of this? It wasn’t Pat’s fault Nick had liked to use incomprehensible euphemisms when asking for model clones to join him in his billionaire playground. Neither was it Pat’s fault that Nick was — well, Nick, and so basically irresistible.

  Least of all could any fault be attributed to Pat because his mom and his significant other had incompatible jobs. At least that was Pat’s position, and he was sticking to it.

  And also? “I tried to tell you, numbnuts,” Pat told Nick, which was absolutely true. “You’re the one who refused to let me disclose all, remember? And you swore you wouldn’t hate me when stuff came out later, so now that stuff has come out, you better not think you get to hate me or anything. I’m, like, holding you to your promise. I even tried coming clean again and all, only you jumped out a window before I got the chance because you were scared of meeting my sisters!”

  Judging by his stare, Nick was not convinced by this argument, and was once again trying to set Pat on fire with his mind. If it had ever been going to work, though, Pat would have been a human-sized charcoal briquette ages ago, so he wasn’t too worried. The guy was just stubborn, was all. (Tenacious, rather. Yeah, that was a good word — probably the the one you were supposed to use for heroes.)

  As for the other party involved in this mess…

  Pat widened his eyes and pouted sadly in his best imitation of a kicked puppy. It was exactly the way he’d used to pout as a kid to get an extra slice of cake. When your back was against the wall, pride had to take the back seat. “Wow, Mom, you sniffed out my place? Seriously? That is so not cool. That is so, so not — like, what, because I’m your son I don’t get the right to any sort of privacy? I have a life of my own! I’m not a kid anymore!” A good start, but he wasn’t there yet. This was one of those ‘end justifying the means’ situations, so Pat steeled himself, swallowed down shame, and forged on ruthlessly. “When I actually was a kid, you were always too busy taking over the world to pay much attention to me. But now that I’m all grown up and doing my own thing, now you suddenly turn up and want to dictate how I should lead my life?”

  The blow struck home —he could tell by the way his mom’s hair flattened, curling in tight against her head and neck. Pat had to fight not to run to her and take everything back, but he stayed strong. It was a low blow, yeah, but there was a core of truth to the accusation… and that was what made it hurt.

  “That is a low blow, Patrick.” Grudging approval crept into Serpentissima’s sibilant hiss. “Well played. It seems you are indeed growing up, my little snakeling.”

  “Do excuse me,” Captain Cool drawled, sarcasm thick in his tone. He’d parked the CoolCycle nearby — Crystal Cea, raised middle fingers and all — and was now leaning against its side in a careful pose, one boot on the ground and one propped up against the gas tank. Personally, Pat thought the Cap would have been a whole lot cooler if he hadn’t always been trying so hard. “Anybody want to catch me up?”

  “Shut up,” said Serpentissima, Nick, and Pat in complete unison. It was as though they’d practiced.

  Which reminded Pat. He turned quickly to his Serpent Sluts, who were waiting off to one side in visible consternation. Ideally, he’d have sat them all down with snacks and a lot of alcohol to explain this mess of a situation in exhaustive detail, but given the circumstances, Pat made due with pointing at them meaningfully while waggling his eyebrows. The Sluts stared back at him with what he chose to interpret as understanding and support. All good there.

  Meanwhile, Serpentissima had drawn herself up to her full height. Her massive serpent body swayed hypnotically as she spread her arms, embracing a faint, growing sphere of venomous power. In direct counterpoint, the glow of Nick’s force fields brightened steadily as he circled for position, gaining height while keeping both Serpentissima and the Sluts in sight.

  Somehow, this development did not seem entirely positive.

  Pat was still pondering whether intervention on his part would make things better or worse — and what form exactly said intervention should take, considering he was neither a giant supernatural serpent nor a flying hoagie wrapped in five dozen force fields — when Serpentissima loosed a Venom Bolt. It was one of the fast, mean ones that clung so tenaciously it could even eat through stasis shields. Nick tried to evade, but it swerved after him and caught the very edge of a trail of energy. A blink of an eye later, it had surged outward to wrap itself around him from head to toe, until the only thing Pat could see was a glowing venom-colored cloud in the shape of Silver Paladin.

  Half a second later, the venom cloud flashed so brightly that Pat clapped his hands over his eyes.

  Red and orange after-images danced in his vision as h
e cautiously peeked out from between his fingers. No trace of the venom cloud remained. Now, there was only Nick, as silver and force field-shrouded as ever. He was in the middle of swinging into an attack run, a bubble of energy ballooning from his hands.

  Serpentissima darted forward to bat the bubble from her opponent’s grasp with a single, powerful sweep of the tail.

  Neither of them attacked again immediately. Instead, they both retreated slightly, beginning to circle while sizing each other up with cold, hard stares.

  This was not quite the outcome Pat had hoped for. Still, looking on the bright side, it could have been so much worse. Nobody was dead yet, and hey, a venom bolt and a containment bubble? Imagine if those attacks had been a Serpent Scourge and a Force Lance, instead.

  Come to think of it, the fact that they hadn’t been was in itself a hopeful sign. It could hardly be coincidence that both Serpentissima and Silver Paladin were failing to use their most lethal weapons, choosing instead something intended to contain and restrain. Right?

  “It’d feel wrong to interfere, somehow,” Cap Cool remarked, heaving a heavy sigh. “I wish people would solve their private squabbles on their own time. Not very considerate, is it?”

  He didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone in particular, but Pat was standing closest, and it was his private squabble too. Kind of. Or mostly, he guessed. Not to mention that it seemed like bad manners to let hoagies stand around unattended in the middle of what still technically, Pat was pretty sure, counted as a showdown battle.

  A sneer of derision was usually a safe choice when uncertain of what to say to a hoagie, so Pat tried his best to muster one. It probably wasn’t a great success, going by the almost pitying look on Cap Cool’s face, but Pat gave himself points for effort. “Whatever,” he muttered, and then decided that he needed to be a bit more decisive. “Feel free to leave at any time if you’re bored.”