🚀 go-pugleaf

<<The following should not be considered as affecting the characters herein,
other than the context of this story.>>


        MAY 4, 1993

        Graham Thomas looked at his watch.  It was an Anchor watch --
black leather band, thick steel case, and a midnight blue face with
silver hands and a silver thread of a second hand.  Tick...tick....
Seconds turned into minutes and those turned into hours and those into
days.  He had bought the Anchor the day he was picked up by Awesome
Amalgamated.  He threw away the calculator watch with all the
appointments programmed in.  He didn't need reminders.  Not then.
His whole life he had built up his business acumen and resume, basing
his practices on the simple philosophy that ethics could still be
profitable.  That those who controlled the forces of finance could
still have a heart.
        He had almost lost hope by the day the Wall Street Journal
announced two things.  That the Awesome Force was retiring...and the
formation of Awesome Amalgamated, with the express purpose of buying
N.A.S.A. and making it a profit making institution.
        Graham turned in his letter of resignation that day, walked to
the new offices of A.A., and dropped his resume on the desk.  He was
hired fifteen minutes later.  He was home.
        And the Anchor Watch had marked the time since that day.  Marked
the time before this meeting, really.  A meeting Andy Awesome had
called.
        This was important.  Andy had recently reformed the Awesome
Force, and as a result his handpicked board had been running A.A.
They had done him proud, until now.  Graham was promoted onto the
Board by Andy himself.  He had sworn to Andy Awesome that he would
uphold the principles of the corporation, of the Awesome Force, and of
Andy himself.
        "Mister Thomas," Bob Ardent, one of the Executive Secretaries,
said, "we're beginning."
        "Thank you," Graham said, and picked up his briefcase.  It was
the best money could buy -- he wanted to make an impression.  Today
was Andy Awesome's planning meeting -- the meeting to take Awesome
Amalgamated into the next century and beyond.  As A.A.'s corporate and
political power developed and grew, that power had to be implemented
with organization and care, to ensure the maximum benefit for the
company, and for the rest of the world.
        Ethics and business.  Andy Awesome had blended them successfully.
And now there were two proposals on how to use that blend.  Angela
Whitehope's...and Graham's.
        He patted the briefcase with pride.  Angela thought too
yesterday. Graham's proposal was tomorrow.  And he knew Andy would see
it the same way.  In his own way, Graham might be responsible for more
good than all the Superheroes on Earth.
        Smiling and nervous, Graham strode into the meeting room.  He
shook Andy's hand, then Angela's, and then the others.  It was time to
begin.




                                 2035

                 A Decidedly Different Superguy Story
                                  by
                           Eric Alfred Burns

                              Chapter One




        The AirSurfers rose and fanned out in a delta pattern.  Carlos
could see them coming.  Damn DefSquad SmartComs -- they'd spotted him
and they'd never let go.  The blood poured from the TrackShell wound.
He would have to get rid of the Transponder somehow.
        He held onto the BodyPack with his good hand as he ran.  He
couldn't drop it now.  If he did get away Sten and Kikki would need
it.  He hugged the shadows of the catwalk, waiting until he got to one
of the transom ladders.  If he went out into the light they'd pick him
up.  He needed to get away from the IR scans too.
        A burst of halogen light ripped from the two lower AirSurfers,
shredding even the illusion of shadow.  They knew where he was -- the
transponder would see to that.  All they needed was a lock to gun him
down without damaging the WestNight Complex.
        He dove and rolled, ignoring the searing pain that flooded him.
Anything to confuse the sensors.  Yes...they were swerving a little
too far forward, dipping below the catwalk level and scanning below.
        It couldn't last.  Carlos couldn't shake the thought that
DefSquad was playing with him  That was ridiculous, though.  No Slick
had enough creativity to--
        There!  The access door.  If the AirSurfers could just stay down
long enough to--
        Backlit by the starlike spots of the Plex, one four-man ship
rose, light searing Carlos's eyes.  "Surrender for Interdiction,"
echoed the Voice of DefSquad all around Carlos.  "You have nine
seconds."
        No time to disable the Active ID Reader.  No time to be subtle.
If DefSquad got him, they'd get the whole Haven -- Kikki wouldn't
survive.  She'd be a JoyHealer Gamma Level in no time.
        Use the light.  They're giving it to you.  Carlos pulled off his
WrapShades.  Kilocandles of light soaked into his eyes, glowing and
filling.
        "Your time has expired.  Place your hands behind your head or be
eliminated."  The voice was polite and artificial.  Computers never
got angry.
        Carlos lifted his hands slowly, letting the BodyPack slip onto
his shoulder.  His good shoulder, thank Noj.
        "Do not resist the suppression wave.  Resistance could lead to
unfortunate injury," the synthetic voice instructed.  Of course it
could.  Almost all SupWaves led to `resistance.'  The WaveCaster
deployed--
        Carlos released a wide-burst, flooding the AirSurfer with
photons.  Alert klaxons sounded and the other AirSurfers dove in.
Carlos spun and seared the ActId, sparking it.  A second light blast
seared the locking mechanism and he forced the door.  His shoulder
protested, but her couldn't take the time to notice it.  He jumped,
sliding down the repair chute, rungs of the ladder hammering him as he
fell past.  The floor of the repair conduit slammed into Carlos, hard.
He staggered to his feet and ran.  The AirSurfers could never follow
him, and even DefSquad wouldn't risk the property damage from MaxShot.
Enough damage and AweNet Four would have to report something on the
news.  Down here, he had a chance to put enough metal between himself
and the Slicks to block the transponder.  And down here, his Optic
Charge could even up the odds.  Plus, his vision sent UV pulses out
automatically, pulses which illuminated the darkness with `light' his
metaoptics could read.
        He heard the thumping of the Slicks.  They were down in the
conduits now.  S.O.P. for internal excursions was four out of ten
remained behind.  That meant ten, maybe eleven slicks, half with
tranks, half with PitShot.  Bad but beatable -- unless they had
Extreme Measures.
        Noj help him if the Slicks had Extreme Measures.
        Carlos ducked into another side conduit.  These tunnels were part
of the superstructure of the Plex buildings.  Pretty much all Uptown
Metro sections had them for upkeep without the Alphs needing to see
them.  In the night, it meant the Pits had a place to run...if they
had the chance.  Some Pits stayed in the conduits all the time.
        Carlos slipped into another side junction and froze.  Dead end.
He was backed up into a termination tunnel.  Worse, it lead to an
AirTug docking station -- if they traced the Transponder -- no.  That
was no good.  He was in too deep and there were too many electronics
in these conduits.
        The footfalls were getting closer.  How?  He was shielded--
        The blood.  He was bleeding, and leaving a wonderful IR trail.
The TrackShell wound would lead the Slicks to him after all.
        Well, if he could take out these Slicks, he could bind up and
move on.  He was in a good position for a Siege.
        The first two spun in.  Carlos nailed them with monopulses.  The
light-bursts dazzled the others, and forced them back.  "DSC --
Paranorm confirmed!" one shouted.  The Slicks knew he wasn't just a
Pit now -- and Paranorms were taken very seriously.
        Carlos burned the next to look in, and edged back against the
lock.  He hadn't heard anyone call in a location -- though the
conduits could probably read the Slicks' Active IDs.
        There was a rumble, and Carlos felt the metal shift behind him.
He slammed against the far wall even as the lock dilated open.  He
knew the Black Flight Armor when he saw it.  The sleek shoulder APC
locked into place on the suit's left shoulder.
        Carlos burned as powerfully as he could.  Streaming coherent
light poured into the suit.  Carlos could see twin IR trails on the
suit, where his optic powers had heated it.  Normal sight would have
seen no effect.
        The APC fired just once.  Once was all it took, with someone like
Carlos.
        After a few seconds, the armored DefSquad Officer landed.
"Secured," he reported.  "Injuries?"
        "We got off light, Bulletproof Six," Team Leader Three said.
"Three officers injured mildly.  When the Pit burned the AirSurfer we
thought we'd have more trouble."
        "Well, he didn't penetrate the Bulletproof armor, either.  The
energy stream seemed weaker than the one that hit the AirSurfer," the
Bulletproof Trooper said.
        "What about the Evidence," Legal Officer Nine asked.  "We need
digiscan proof for the Retro Kill Voucher."
        "Right here," Officer Two-Three said.  He held up the Body Pack.
"Check it out.  Twelve Ration Packs, all Gamma Level.  None of them
have been cleared.  He's the Pit we're after all right."
        "Good enough," Team Leader Three said.  "Cancel Extreme Measures.
See you at poker tonight, B-Proof Six?"
        "You bet.  I'm off at four."  The Bulletproof Trooper rose into
the air, edged out the Lock, and arced over the WestNight Complex and
all of Manhattan Uptown Metroplex.  The others waited for the AirBarge
to pick up the injured and the Pit's body.  It was, all told, another
day in MUM.


                              * * * * * *


        "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...."
        Over the centuries, Chalandra had heard the phrase too many
times.  This one hurt pretty badly, but did it hurt more than all the
others?  Did it hurt more than Badass had?  than Reginald had a
century before?
        At least this was the last of it.
        The man who stood after the casket was lowered looked older than
his sixty-five years.  He looked eighty or more.  There were rumors,
but then, around any legend there were rumors.  And no matter how old
he looked, this man was legendary.
        He stood at the head of the grave.  "Friends," he said, raising
his still impressive eyes to look about him.  "The greatest advantage
of living a full life is the great number of true friends you
accumulate.  The saddest fact of a full life is the number of those
friends you must, in the end, say goodbye to.  When the one we say
goodbye to is as selfless a hero as this, it is a sad day for us all."
        Chalandra sat up and looked at a man she called friend, though
she had never known him well.  By the time she entered conventional
superheroics, the legend of Andy Awesome had already made meeting him
and becoming his friend nigh unto impossible.  Listening to him
deliver the eulogy of her dead husband reminded her how utterly
impressive he was, though.  His voice and words were enough to make
the pain a vital one, instead of the dead ache of death being too
familiar to one immune to it.
        "As I look upon the casket of Manny Seconds, now buried in they
eyes of the law and of God, if not in fact, I look upon the final home
of a man of many talents.  Manny was a sidekick, a superhero, a leader
and a follower both, in his time.  He served his country as President,
his teammates as leader, and his friends as a friend.  I can say
truthfully that of all the men and women I have met in my many
professions, Manny was the man who cared the most, without having to
consider or think.  Manny simply loved.  He loved his beautiful wife,
Chalandra.  He loved those around him.  He loved the Epsilon Citizen
working in the mines and the fields.  He loved the children in the
schools, no matter what level or school they might be.
        "In the end, whether we are speaking of Confusion, President
Seconds, or old friend Manny, I can say that I respected him, I liked
him...and I'll miss him.
        "Goodbye, Manny.  We'll miss you."
        The began to fill the grave, then.  Chalandra rose and stretched.
She was stiff.  As stiff as the dead.
        Friends and acquaintances came to her then, and murmured.  She
wasn't used to being the center of attention at these things.  She
made the noises they expected and stepped over to the last of her
teammates.
        "Elizabeth?" she asked.
        Elizabeth turned, her wide eyes as innocent as a newborn's.
        "I...thank you for coming, Elizabeth."
        The former Healer remained mute.
        "Ms. Seconds?  I'm afraid she can't hear you."
        She turned to Andy Awesome.  "I know, but I talk to her anyway.
And the name is Harkness.  I have never taken another's name."
        "Sorry, Ms. Harkness.  I just wanted to express--"
        "I know.  Your eulogy was beautiful."
        "Thank you.  Walk with me, would you?  There's an eerie beauty to
this place in the moonlight."
        The two walked among the pale monuments.  Chalandra thought Andy
would say something more about Manny, but he surprised her.
        "Ms. Harkness?  I understand grief.  I know it well, these days.
But you don't seem grief struck so much as...well, you seem a picture
of despair, if you don't mind my saying."
        "I don't, Mr. Awesome--"
        "Andy."
        "All right, then please call me Chalandra."
        "I would be honored."
        Chalandra smiled slightly.  "To answer your question, Andy, this
is all too familiar to me.  Every few decades, I open up, find
friends, even love...and then a few decades later, they're taken away.
Manny was the last of those I was very close to.  Now...now I'll be
alone again."
        She sighed, looking at High Jinks's monument -- not enough of the
blimp had survived the terrorist bomb to bury, much less High Jinks
himself.  "There are those who wonder at calling vampiric nature a
`curse.'  They see my power, my eternal youth, the synthetic blood
your labs synthesized for me, and they don't see anything curselike
about it.
        "They don't see your friends, your loves...your husband die."
        "I think I understand," Andy said.
        "Not to offend, but how could you?"
        "Well...you understand that what I'm about to tell you must
remain secret, for now?"
        "Of course."
        Andy looked at High Jinks's monument for a long time.  "I'm
dying, Chalandra.  I am...and all the Awesome Force is."


THE AWESOME FORCE IS DYING?
WHY?
HOW?
WHAT DID THE PROLOGUE HAVE TO DO WITH THE STORY?
WHAT HAPPENS NOW?


The answers will be found in Superguy, of course.