🚀 go-pugleaf

(Continued from part one, preceding...)
               *              *              *              *

     Constellation leaned against the railing of the large seagoing troop
transport the LNH had secured from the military for this mission, his head
exposed to the sea air, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  Dot could still
hear him, he knew, but he couldn't hear her.  They both recognized that he
needed some times to be truly alone.
     The craft shifted slowly on the Pacific Ocean's waves as it headed South
to Andale Atoll off Net.cuador.  It had been a useless chunk of land that Acton
Lord apparently bought from the Net.cuadorian government a year or so ago.  The
sky was crystal clear, and the only lights the ones from the command deck at
the other end of the transport.  The stars were nowhere near as clear as they
were from space, where they shone crisply and with all the colors of the
spectrum.  But there still was a certain 'rightness' about the twinkling stars
overhead.
     Constellation heard a faint whirring behind him, and turned to see
Spartacus's remote unit rolling towards him.  Spartacus himself was restricted
to the deployment bay beneath the deck by his size, but the remote unit could
travel around fairly freely.
     "Yes?" acknowledged Constellation when the unit had gotten a few meters
away.
     "Oversample has arranged a diversion that will prevent sonar units from
detecting us.  We should be able to get almost all the way to shore under an
artificial cloudbank before being detected, according to plan," said the
six-wheeled probe.
     "What's the diversion?"
     "A local group of cetaceans, who don't much like the island's new 'noisy'
residents, have agreed to interfere with the sonar system and 'play' with the
few aquatic MACErs there.  It helps to be on good terms with all the
intelligent races of the world, instead of trying to supplant them."  The probe
had no mouth per se, but Constellation could have sworn it was smiling.  "It
took MACE decades to even realize we could talk to the cetaceans...bought us
precious time to devise defenses against aquatic attacks for the denizens of
the deep."
     A long pause ensued.  Constellation turned back to the rail and looked up
at the sky.  After a minute or so, he said, "You didn't just come out here to
tell me about the dolphins.  You could have waited for me to come inside.  So
what do you really want to say?"
     Another awkward moment passed, then an arm unfolded from the body of the
probe and pointed to the southern skies, the three-fingered manipulator
extending over Constellation's shoulder.
     "Do you see those stars there?  You can make out Hydra, the water snake
pretty easily at this latitude in late March.  Now, see those two quadrangles
of stars on the snake's body?  They're called Crater and Corvus.  The Cup and
the Crow."
     Constellation nodded silently, unsure where this was going.  Spartacus
continued.  "According to old Greek myth, Apollo, god of the Sun and music and
a few other things, had a pet crow.  Apollo was a bit thirsty, so he gave his
cup to the crow and told it to go down and fetch some water from a stream.  The
crow did so, but when he got to the stream he saw a fig tree with some almost-
ripe figs on it.  The crow decided to wait for the figs to ripen, and then ate
the figs.  He knew Apollo would be annoyed at the delay, so after filling the
cup he grabbed a small water snake and carried it with him back to Olympus.
'Apollo,' he said, 'I was delayed by this snake, but here's your water.'
Apollo was no fool, though, and figured out pretty quickly that the crow was
lying.  I guess he decided he didn't need the aggravation from any of the lot,
so he tossed the crow, cup and snake into the sky, where they became stars."
     "Interesting," lied Constellation.  "Your point?"
     A sigh came from the vocal circuits.  "The crow tried to blame
circumstance for his mistakes, his failings.  The story points out how it is
important to take responsibility for your actions, not try to shift blame to
some evil force, or fate, or happenstance."
     "You think that's what I've been doing?  Do I *look* like I'm trying to
avoid taking responsibility for my actions?"
     "Honestly, I wouldn't be able to tell just by looking...human emotions are
still one of the greatest mysteries to me.  I like to think I'm nearly human,
but I know I'm only the barest approximation, for all my sophistication and
lifetimes of experience.  But I've been talking with Sig.Lad, and he's told me
how badly you've taken things lately.  You've tried to flee to other worlds
instead of facing your problems.  You've blamed evil forces for keeping you
from being happy."
     Constellation whirled about, his teeth clenched in anger.  "Are you saying
it's *MY* fault that Lord Ebon killed all my friends?  That Master Workload
forced me into another major confrontation when I had barely recovered from my
loss?  I've been bounced from one circumstance to the next...I haven't had any
more choice than a mouse in a maze!  My one chance for being happy again was
shot to hell by my own existence!  Don't tell me about avoiding choice...choice
has been avoiding me!"
     Spartacus's voice took on an angry tone to match Constellation's.  "You
ALWAYS have a choice!  Even if you can't control what happens to you, you can
always control how you deal with it!  You can curl up in self-pity and sorrow,
and effectively say 'I can't change things,' no strike that.  You're saying 'I
won't even try!'  Sig.Lad gave us all a very moving speech on how death isn't
as permanent here...if that's not permanent, nothing is!  You CAN change the
things in your life that try to destroy you...if all you're willing to be is a
victim of fate, that's what you'll be.  But you may find that once you stop
moaning about how bad life it, you can make it better!"
     "Don't try to give me that 'motivational speaker' treacle!" countered
Constellation.  "Why can't I have the right to be in pain when I'm hurt!  Do I
have to happily soldier on, the good little net.hero?  My life has been nothing
but one loss after another...I'll keep living it, but you cannot make me be
happy about it!"
     Spartacus's voice dropped to conversational level.  "No, I can't.  But I'm
not trying to spoonfeed you treacle.  Fine.  Have your pain.  Pain is a normal
response to trauma.  But there's a difference between being in pain and
*wallowing* in it.  You wear your pain like a second skin...third, actually, in
your case.  It's a shroud that lets you avoid becoming too involved with
anything.  You can be passionate, angered...sure.  You can even carry deep
philosophical beliefs and fight to defend them.  But you're trying to be all
sharp edges, your pain is becoming what defines you.  You almost seem afraid to
let it go, because when it's gone there might be nothing underneath anymore.
     "And eventually, there won't be anything beneath the pain.  You have to
get past it...not just put it aside for a while, then pick it back up, you have
to work through it and get over it.  After a while, your hurts and bruises can
start to dictate your actions.  You let past wrongs guide you more than present
rights.  You become little more than a scarecrow, performing a parody of each
unconscious act you've ever been subject to.  I've seen good friends turn into
little more than automata, guided by decades of hurt, seeking vengeance instead
of doing what their hearts once told them to.  If you can't get past a year's
worth of pain, what will it be like in a decade?  A century?  You might be
immortal, for all you know...can you imagine what immortality would be like if
you didn't let go of your pain once in a while?"  Spartacus withdrew the
probe's arm.  "I think Shakespeare said, 'The fault lies not within us, it lies
in the stars.'  Unless I mangled the quote, he was being sarcastic, of course.
He meant that we should not try to blame fate for our misfortunes.  We should
deal with them ourselves."
     "Too bad the stars and I are one and the same," scowled Constellation.
"You've delivered your sermon, you can tell Sig.Lad you've gotten your point
across.  Now go away."
     Spartacus paused for a moment.  There was a slight clicking from his
manipulator arm as it started to extend, but it retracted.  "I know this isn't
really my business...if we manage to repel MACE, I may never see you again.
But I've spent a hundred and fifty six years trying to truly become human.
Some say I've succeeded, but I only see how far I have to go.  You, on the
other hand, are already there.  I just hate to see someone throw away something
so precious, turning themselves over to the control of some uncaring fate.  And
once you lose your humanity, you can almost never get it back.  Think about
it."  With that, the remote unit trundled off into the dark and bumped down the
stairway.
     ++He's right, you know.++
     --Yeah, I know....--

               *              *              *              *

     There was little time for philosophical introspection or even a Long Angst
Ridden Internal Monologue [LARIM, credit to PAD] the next morning.  Reports
coming in showed that Boomer had managed to wrest control of some media away
from Waveform, and was broadcasting tapes of the few victories the LNH had won
from the MACErs.  But it was still a losing battle in terms of power.  Most of
the lower-level combat members were out of action for at least a week now, and
even a few cosmic types were badly off.  Under the cover of fog, the transport
approached Andale Atoll, and actually managed to land before MACE attacked.
     It was a swirling chaotic morass to the LNHers that lacked non-visual
detection methods, and even those that could see had trouble keeping track of
things.  MunchkinMaster kept the odds favorable, because he drained so much
power from the ambient neutrino flow that only a fraction of MACE's might could
be effectively brought to bear in the area.  But it was still bad.
     The LNHers tried to avoid notice and gain entrance to Acton Lord's base.
Constellation managed to find an underground tunnel network and the heroes
entered it, leaving the battle above behind them.
     Squid Boy nervously fingered his CHOOM gun as they navigated the narrow
passages.  No one wanted to discuss the possibility of running into a MACEr
small enough to fit in here.  Constellation took point, with Particle Man and
Sidewinder flanking Squid Boy and Sig.Lad covering the back.  Predictably,
Sidewinder was soon lost to a side passage, but hopefully he would divert any
patrols...his power would let him escape any battle that might erupt.
     The glow from Constellation's fist full of stars lit up a square of green
and white computer printout paper stuck to the wall at an intersection.
Scrawled on it in clumsy letters was, "To being this way on Dimensionally
Portal."
     "Gradgnomes," whispered Sig.Lad when he saw it.  "Question is, are they
against MACE, or with them?"
     "Or trying to play both ends against the middle and come out ahead?" asked
Particle Man.
     "Might as well follow it," said Squid Boy.  "If nothing else, it probably
leads to something interesting."
     Sig.Lad shot Squid Boy a look that said, "Interesting can be bad," before
nodding.  "Might as well."
     For the next several minutes, the Secret Dvanders followed the hastily
scrawled notes through the Gradgnome warrens, and finally reached a dead end.
     "I check for secret/concealed doors," whispered Particle Man.
     "Heh," added Squid Boy.
     ++There's definitely something odd on the other side.++
     "Okay, Dot says there's something there," said Sig.Lad.  "Do we try this
sneaky or not sneaky."
     "Sneaky," said Constellation as he went totally black and passed through
the wall.  A moment later, the door swung open.  "Coast is clear for the
moment, guys."
     They filed out of the door, then carefully closed it so that any attackers
wouldn't know where their escape route was.
     The room was huge.  The ceiling vaulted almost a hundred meters overhead.
A computer bank lined a stretch of wall, but looked puny next to the giant
portal that dominated one side of the room.  Looking more closely, they could
see that this chamber had been made by knocking out several walls and ceilings.
The portal looked like it had been hastily increased in size to accommodate a
greater flow of MACErs.  Right now it was dull grey, quiescent.  Sig.Lad dashed
to the controls and spent a moment examining them.
     "Still active," he whispered.  "Looks like they just left them here, since
none of them were small enough to operate the controls.  They probably work the
gate by direct cyberinterface.  The tech isn't too different from Acton Lord's
normal stuff...I think I can get it active."
     Suddenly the gate flared greenly to life.
     "Good job!  Let's call Spartacus and let him know we have it active!" said
Squid Boy, barely keeping from shouting out loud.
     "Um, Squid, I didn't do anything yet.  *They* must be activating it!
Cover!"
     But it was too late.  Before anyone could get to the doorway or even
reasonable cover, an imposing figure strode through the gate.  Every aspect of
him cried NASTY.  The skull-like face with ornate helmet.  The bodyblades on
arms and legs.  The tank treads at the hips.  And especially the huge
massdriver rings mounted on his right arm.
     "So," boomed the figure, "my warriors decided to provide me with some
sport on arrival!  I've never killed a squishy from another world before...you
should feel honored to be made extinct by the hand of Antiochus V!"
     "We'll die before we let you destroy humanity!" shouted Squid Boy as he
fired shot after shot from his CHOOM gun...to no effect.
     "Certainly, *human*.  You will die.  Then I will destroy humanity.
Amazing how quickly lesser creatures grasp the situation."  Antiochus snapped
his arm out at Squid Boy and a metal sphere the size of a basketball streaked
down the massdriver.  Before anyone could block the shot or shove Squid Boy out
of the way, the projectile had smashed through Squid Boy's left side in a spray
of blood, knocking the hapless hero aside like a wet rag.  "He was the first.
Who desires the second spot?  Or rather, to become the second spot," chuckled
Antiochus.
     Then the double doors leading out of the chamber slammed apart.  "One is
too many, Antiochus!  I may not have stopped you from devastating one world,
but you won't destroy this one!" shouted Spartacus, standing in the doorway.
Smoke leaked from a few minor wounds and the barrel of his gun was still
glowing, but he betrayed no sign of weariness or weakness.
     "If you'll excuse me, humans, but pleasure before business!"  Antiochus
fired a stream of metal spheres which Spartacus barely anticipated in time to
dodge.
     Meanwhile, Constellation and Sig.Lad had rushed to where Squid Boy fell
and Particle Man was trying to bring a crane to bear to hinder Antiochus.
     "Put him in stasis!" shouted Sig.Lad.
     "How?  That's not one of my powers!"
     "Yes it is...just put him in a solid block of Astral Matter...time will
stop flowing while he's inside."
     "Are you sure?"
     "No.  But I can't think of a Sig.power that would save him...do it!"
     So Constellation formed a block around Squid Boy, a sparkling grey
sarcophagus.  If it didn't save him, it could be his coffin.

(concluded in part three, immediately following...)