🚀 go-pugleaf

[Continued From Part Six!]

     "Now!" shouted Chronosphere, startling Yellow and Infrared Squads out
of their reveries. "I don't know how, but they've managed to break
through!" Amiga nodded at his allies, and the eight people rushed towards
the Parliament building through an opening in the living wall that had been
momentarily provided by their nearly exhausted allies. As they ran, three
new sets of footfalls began echoing behind them. Amiga turned his head to
see Spoongirl, Sporkboy and Aquaregia following close behind.
     "What're you three doing?" he asked, mildly surprised at his unplanned
escorts.
     "Making sure you get inside safely to defeat the menace that's
threatening our world," announced Spoongirl proudly, not the least bit out
of breath as she ran. "What any _real_ hero would do."
     "I'm going because she's going!" grinned Sporkboy, smiling at
Spoongirl, who rolled her eyes and concentrated on the run.
     "I saw a catering truck outside the building!" cried Aquaregia, as she
followed along behind. "Coffee and danishes, yay!"
     Amiga was in no mood to argue; he continued sprinting behind
Chronosphere while flanked by troopers in full Tornado gear. Enemy
superguys rushed towards him, only to be held back by one embattled allied
superguy or another.
     Chronosphere didn't even bother with the door, choosing instead to
smash through it, allowing his armour to take the blow. Spoongirl frowned
at this wanton destruction of public property, and made a note that the
vigilante who held himself above 'Destruction of Property' laws should be
dealt with after the battle was done.
     The group piled into the foyer, close to their goal. Amiga had almost
permitted himself to relax, when the eleven allies heard noises from the
outside. The troopers spun, rifles raised and what few missiles they had
remaining prepped, ready to fight yet another enemy. Rogue superguys boiled
into the room, to be met with blistering defensive fire from the Tornado
suits. Jennings patched her comlink through to Chronosphere's armour.
     "Go!" she shouted over the link. "We'll hold them here!"
     "Let's move," muttered Chronosphere, motioning for Amiga and the
Preteen Patrol to follow. The group ran down a long, deserted hallway as
the sounds of gunfire receded into the background.
     "Why didn't we just sneak through a window into his office?" asked
Spoongirl, her senses alert for any tricks or traps that might be thrown
against them. Government buildings were insidious things, holding any
number of surprises. Of course, most of those were hidden taxes and shady
deals, but it never hurt to remain alert.
     "Because he moved to an inner office once the battle started," replied
Chronosphere. "Where he'd be safer."
     "Where's Aquaregia?" asked Sporkboy, looking around in confusion.
Spoongirl heaved the sigh of the put-upon.
     "She ducked into that meeting room," she replied in disgust, as the
blond superguy popped back out, clutching two sticky doughnuts in either
hand.
     "Aquaregia, would you please take this seriously?" shouted Spoongirl
angrily. "Don't leave the group! You might get picked off by some enemy
superguy or shot or kidnapped or... hmm...."
     "Quiet, kids!" hissed Chronosphere. He was about to add something
else, when a strange sense of vertigo swept over him. As the Preteen Patrol
argued, he could see doors to a very specific future being thrown open,
making it so much more likely than any other. In this future, an innocent
farmer died for failing to join the planetary Overmind. In this future,
Stately Ward Manor was sacrificed like a pawn lost in a game of chess. In
this future... Maladroit had won all. Chronosphere shook his head to clear
it; he really needed to get some fresh air. But he had a duty, and he was
in the right place to discharge it. "This is his office!"
     The group came to a halt outside of a plain wooden door, which was -
in the final analysis - far too innocent to be the door which led to the
lair of an insane madman. It should have had mind numbingly twisted faces
and leering heads cut into it, with perhaps a polished brass knocker in the
shape of a severed hand. But this was just... a door. Even the name-tag
holder slot was empty. It was a very bizarre feeling, but Commodore Amiga
felt oddly cheated by the lack of frightful decorum.
     Without hesitation, Chronosphere kicked in the door, shattering it
with his metal boot. Maladroit - directing the battle from behind his desk,
his eyes almost shut - sighed as he saw the damage. "It _was_ open, you
realise."
     "I always had a flair for the dramatic," replied Chronosphere as he
advanced into the room, Amiga and the Preteen Patrol in tow. "As you well
know."
     "Sorry, don't know, couldn't care less and busy directing a battle,"
replied Maladroit, annoyance seeping into his words, "Now be dears and go
throw yourselves onto some pit trap or another, will you? I'm a bit
distracted."
     Chronosphere was about to return with some blisteringly witty remark,
when Spoongirl stepped forward. "We've come here to end your evil plans,
Maladroit!" she shouted, putting her hands on hips. "Now, surrender,
befo--"
     "Spoongirl, stand down!" barked Chronosphere, shaking his helmet. "I
was about to enter into witty repartee with Maladroit, and you've gone and
spoiled the mood!"
     "But that's the standard superhero challenge..."
     "Not now, okay?" demanded Chronosphere. He sighed. "Oh hell(tm), the
feeling's gone. I saw this coming anyway; might as well get right to the
dramatic revelation."
     "Sorry."
     "Yeah, yeah."
     "What dramatic revelation?" asked Maladroit, his eyes fully open by
this point. Chronosphere turned up the bass on his speakers before
continuing.
     "The revelation that explains why I've known your plans and goals from
the beginning!" said Chronosphere, getting into the groove of things. "This
is the revelation that explains why you can't hope to win!"
     "Because you've sacrificed your fashion sense for a quick victory?"
asked Maladroit dryly, examining the man's armour. Sporkboy snrked;
Spoongirl glared at him.
     "No," replied Chronosphere, putting a hand on his helmet. "Because
you've been a bit sloppy... and you've forgotten to clean up after
yourself."
     "What do you mean?" asked Maladroit, half rising from his chair.
Chronosphere chuckled, and pulled off his helmet, causing Maladroit's eyes
to widen.
     "A senior accountant in the dominated world's bureaucracy?" asked
Chronosphere, his voice finally unfiltered. "And you just ignored me; left
me there to wither and die in an obscure job? Jacques, you honestly didn't
think that I... that _we_ would have
more ambition than that?"
     Maladroit gaped at his own twin who grinned grimly back at him.
"But... you can't be!"
     "Oh yes I can," replied Chronosphere, smirking for a moment before
becoming deadly serious. "I am to you as Big Behn is to Aleph. I'm the
Maladroit whose destiny you displaced when you changed the future and then
had the lack of courtesy to live there! The person railroaded into numerous
dead-end and low promotion jobs because you had to conquer the damned
future instead of leaving it for its residents to make the way _we_ wanted!
I might've been anything, you damned megalomaniacal, self-interested
jackass, if I hadn't had to grow up in a world that was under the thumb of
MYSELF! Instead I lived a crappy life and then gave up my peace of mind and
a good chunk of my sanity to stop you, only to find out that you've screwed
us over yet AGAIN in this time line! I've resented you and everything you
stand for from the moment that you and your bitch-queen's troops set foot
on our timeline's Earth! What do you have to say to that, 'brother'?"
     Maladroit recovered from his shock, and raised a single eyebrow.
"Bitter?" he asked.
     "Oh just a touch," replied Chronosphere, his gauntlets beginning to
glow. "But that's what might have been. What will be is my stopping you,
and Amiga here putting an end to your madness!" Chronosphere raised his arm
and pointed it at Maladroit's head. There was a slight sizzle as a bolt of
chronal energy leapt from it, lancing straight towards Maladroit's head.
And at the last second... it vanished. Chronosphere looked stunned while
Maladroit laughed.
     "A 'Wesseinhausen Prototype Temporal Jaunt Suit'," laughed Maladroit,
palming a small control box. "I recognised it from the old time line. Pity
you forget to disable the overrides." Maladroit winked, stabbed a button
and watched as Chronosphere's armour blazed with an angry blue light. The
second Maladroit's senses reeled as he fell to the ground, his muscles
unable to move except in spastic jerks. Deep in his mind, he saw more doors
opening and closing... a future where Task Force Aurora fell under its own
political weight, unable to stop the spread of the Overmind across the
continent and then the world... this future became more and more possible
by the second...
     "As for you, Amiga, and your little brat pack," said Maladroit to the
stunned onlookers - and one little blond girl who had found Maladroit's
breath mints - as he stepped over Chronosphere's fallen form, "Whatever am
I going to do with you?"
     "Send out for pizza?" asked Aquaregia, hopefully. Maladroit ignored
her, advancing on Amiga.
     "I can't let _you_ live, that much is obvious," he said, pulling a
small, glowing sphere from his pocket. "But if you beg well enough, I might
be convinced to spare the children."
     Amiga opened his mouth, wondering what would come out. On the one
hand, three innocent children's lives depended on his decision. On the
other hand, the entire world faced annihilation if he simply gave in. The
Commodore was wracked with indecision; duty had never seemed so impossible
to fulfil. Maladroit stared at him with a piercing intensity, waiting with
an amused patience for the sailor's last command decision.
     ...and the doors to so many other futures closed, as the ALU was
overrun and absorbed or destroyed by the Overmind... as the shattered
Sentries tried and failed to stand against the endless horde of possessed
superguys... as the Resistance fought a losing battle to protect those few
free areas from the tender mercies of Maladroit's army or the bitter
scourge of Gggthxtsth...
     And suddenly, the choice was taken away from him.
     "Forget it, criminal scum!" cried Spoongirl in her best heroic tone.
On anyone who had a voice with an even slightly lower timbre, this
announcement would have been impressive. Sadly for Nancy, however, it had
simply come off as cute. "I'm Spoongirl, and I don't threaten as easily as
you think I do! I'll give you one more chance to surrender before I have to
use force!"
     "Spoongirl..." began Sporkboy uneasily. Spoongirl didn't give him a
chance to finish.
     "Shut up!" she shouted, glaring at Sporkboy. "I can handle this!"
     "Alone?"
     "Yes alone!"
     "Say, have we won yet?" asked Aquaregia, "Can we go out for sundaes now?"
     "Oh put a sock in it!" shouted Spoongirl, feeling her face flush red.
Maladroit laughed, and turned back to Amiga.
     "How charming!" he gloated, raising the glowing sphere. "They shatter
their own effectiveness before I raise a finger against them!"
     ... nations falling to the One mind almost systematically... a new
Teen Team arising from the ashes of what came before...
     Amiga teleported aside just moments before Maladroit's sphere could
arc a bolt of electricity into his body, instead grounding itself into a
nearby doorknob. "Running won't help!" shouted Maladroit, over the sounds
of the Preteen Patrol arguing amongst each other. "Just let me make this
painless for you, as a last act of kindness!"
     "Your last?" asked Amiga, teleporting again to avoid a particle beam
which shot out at his last position with unerring accuracy. Amiga knew that
he could dodge Maladroit... until he got serious about using the weapon.
But what could he do? Teleport back into the fray and try to bring someone
who could take down Maladroit? The mass-mind army would be all over him
before he could even get his bearings. Try to stop Maladroit himself? That
was doomed to failure... despite his desk-jockey ministerial job,
Maladroit's body looked to be in fine shape, his muscled bulging under a
sharply tailored business suit. Even with teleportation as an asset, Amiga
felt sure that Maladroit was packing some sort of trick to even the score.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, Amiga dodged and spun, trying to
stay alive for as long as it took a miracle to occur.
     ... and the doors to the future opened wide... and Chronosphere saw
that the new Teen Team was flawed... fractured... split from within by
Spoongirl and her feelings towards Aquaregia... and the future was lost to
the Overmind... and the moment when this door could be closed... the only
moment... was...
    "Now..." gasped Chronosphere, from his position on the floor. The
future was screaming towards a single destiny, one in which the land was
ravaged and the human race subverted into a whole that was something less
than itself. And this horrific future - the one which he had come back to
end - could only be derailed now, by three squabbling children who bickered
while the man who could save the minds of humanity was being harried to his
death. Slowly, Chronosphere reached into an armoured compartment, wincing
in pain as he did so. With trembling fingers, he extracted a single, foil
wrapped object.
     "...Spoongirl, and one day I'll be as good a crime fighter as my
father, so I can handle this..."
     "...don't even know what we're arguing about anymore..."
     "...does anyone smell hot dogs..."
     Amiga grimaced as he teleported again, narrowly avoiding the office
desk's fate of being blown apart by a powerful explosive. Was it Murphy's
joke that the last sounds he would hear would be three of Earth's defenders
fighting amongst themselves while outside, the world smouldered and burned?
Again, Amiga threw himself to the right, painfully aware that Maladroit was
finding his mark.
     Spoongirl opened her mouth to blast at Sporkboy's last comment, when
she saw something that amazed her. Aquaregia was bending down behind
Maladroit... moving into the perfect 'ambush and knock over' position. She
blinked twice, just in case her eyes were playing tricks... but somehow, it
was true. The monomaniacal little girl was setting up a trap, and Spoongirl
knew that she had only seconds to act on it. She had never trusted
Aquaregia before... but maybe this once, the gravity of the situation had
gotten through to her...
     "Sporkboy, distract Maladroit!" she hissed, bounding onto a chair. The
young boy looked puzzled for a moment, the shrugged and jumped in front of
a very surprised Maladroit, who looked down on him.
     "Hey jerk-face!" yelled Sporkboy, waggling his fingers at the
surprised mastermind. "What's red and angsts and goes a hundred miles an
hour?"
     Maladroit blinked at the boy, and responded with a very pithy,
"Hunh?", which summed up his feelings on the subject rather nicely.
     "Don't know, do you? It's Dog-Thing in a blender!"
     "You're courting death to tell a stupid joke?" asked Maladroit,
raising his weapon. "I'm doing the world a favour, removing you from the
gene pool before you hit puberty."
     "Hiya!" shouted Spoongirl, as she suddenly sprung from her chair and
high-kicked Maladroit in the head. As she figured, he had some sort of
personal force field which kept him from feeling too much of the blow - but
the kinetic force of the kick knocked
him backwards to tumble over Aquaregia and sprawl to the ground. Spoongirl
pounced, knocking away Maladroit's weapon, which Amiga grabbed. He pointed
the device at Maladroit.
     "I'm no expert," began Amiga calmly, as Spoongirl glowered over the
fallen mastermind. "But I figure that one of this thing's settings can
probably punch through that shield and into you. Care to drop it, so I
don't have to find out?"
     "You're bluffing," said Maladroit, from the floor. "You're no killer."
     "When the world's at stake?" asked Amiga, humourlessly, "Are you
willing to take that gamble?"
     Maladroit held the commodore's gaze for a long moment, before
subvocalizing a command. With a soft hiss, his shield vanished. Spoongirl
wasted no time, applying a nerve pinch to the man, whose head lolled as he
fell into unconsciousness.
     "Aquaregia, that was... great!" said Spoongirl, the unfamiliar words
of praise seeming strange when said to the girl. "You... we saved the day!"
     Chronosphere smiled to himself as pathways to the future slowly
shifted and faded. The Overmind... the sacrifices... the loss of Earth, all
of it faded from certainty to possibility. And then Chronosphere's
consciousness faded as he slumped to the ground.
     Aquaregia straightened finally, pulling something from the floor. In
her hand, she clutched her prize: a bit of foil-wrapped gum. "Wow, this was
really stuck tight!" she said with a grin. "What were you saying, Nancy?"
     "That's Spoongirl... oh never mind," sighed Spoongirl, shaking her
head. However she had done it, Aquaregia had proven that she _could_, under
the right conditions, be a hero. She still needed a lot of work... but then
again, didn't Spoongirl herself? Suddenly, Spoongirl's thoughts were
snapped back to the present by a loud wail of agony.
     "Mister Amiga?" asked Sporkboy, looking at the commodore in alarm.
Amiga clutched his head and sank to his knees, tormented by something that
the Preteen Patrol could neither see nor hear. "What's wrong? Are you
okay?"
     "Voices..." gasped Amiga, his eyes wide and staring into infinity. "So
many voices in my head... calling to me... calling me... master."
     And deep in his mind, something took hold and began to grow.
     "Power," it said. "So much power... the power to shape the world... to
end crime... to end hunger... greed... poverty... the power... to do...
anything...."
     "Yes," whispered the commodore, the torment on his face melting into a
contented smile.
***
     "Calm down, Mr. Stoner. This won't hurt a bit."
     "Easy for you to say," Stoner grumped at the tall, bleach-blond woman
who was apparently partially responsible for the antidote. "You're not the
one lying here with all these probes and electrodes and Author-knows-what
poking into you...."
     "We need to monitor the antidote's effect on your system," the woman
explained patiently, smiling down at the ensign, "so that we can tell how
well it's working. Since the symbiotes don't cause any symptoms after that
first fever stage, there's no easy way to tell, otherwise."
     "Yeah, well, just do what you gotta do and get this over with."
     "A good attitude. By the way, my name is Elizabeth Tirkoff. Nice to
meet you, Mr. Stoner." She offered her hand, and Stoner shook it with a
grunt.
     With great care, Elizabeth inserted the syringe into Stoner's arm and
released the test antidote. The ensign winced at the slight stinging
sensation, but that soon passed. Healer looked down at the monitors and,
for several minutes, relayed all manner of incomprehensible facts and
figures to the handful of medtechs crowded around the area. From the other
room, Night Owl monitored his brain scan on the computer screen.
        "Synaptic activity in the psionic nuclei has decreased 15%...  now
25%..." she reported via intercom. There was a collective cheer from the
assembled medical personnel.
     "How are you feeling, Ensign?"
     "Not bad so far."
     "Good. Well, the symbiotes appear to be on the defensive now... the
antidote is definitely having an eff--" She gasped.
     "Uh, what's going on?" Stoner asked.
     "I don't understand-- these readings are-- oh, no."
     "What? What is it??"
     Night Owl's voice filtered through the speakers.  "We're getting a
rebound effect!  Psionic activity up 85%, and prefrontal cortex activity is
dropping off!"
     Elizabeth exploded into activity and began issuing orders at the
nearest medtechs. "Seal this room off and get the tranquillisers! Move! We
don't have much time!"
     Inside Stoner's body, the threatened symbiotes had begun to react in
the only way they knew how. The ensign screamed in agony as his body
transformed and his mind was wrenched open....
***
     "What do we do?" asked Sporkboy, staring at Amiga. Spoongirl pulled
out her Spoonlaser, wondering if they'd just created another master
villain. If they had... then possibly only her father could deal with the
consequences.
     Amiga's eyes focused, and he looked at the three children in front of
him. Three symbols of what he had been fighting for, and three reasons why
the power which he now held should be kept at arm's length. His duty was
clear.
     Through the strange link he shared with the thousands of newly birthed
superguys, Amiga reached out, and sent a single command...
***

[Continued In Part Eight!]