by Barry Lyga
He wondered: What would his life be like once Mighty Mike was no longer a part of it? Things couldn’t go back to the way they’d been before. After all, Kyle had special powers now, to say nothing of his vastly expanded intellect. He couldn’t just … retire, could he? Go back to being plain old Kyle Camden, playing pranks like always?
He couldn’t imagine it. He would probably still play pranks — pranks were important, after all — but to pretend to be normal? Still? No. He couldn’t do it.
Once Mighty Mike’s true nature was revealed and the alien was gone for good, Kyle could reveal his true self to the world. Mairi would be upset at his deception, but she would understand that Mike’s threat forced his hand. So would everyone else. Maybe he could be the Azure Avenger full time…. His parents would finally be so proud of him….
“Kyle.” Erasmus’s voice interrupted his pleasant fantasy. “It’s noon exactly.”
Kyle looked around. Where was the Mad Mask?
Deep in his hidden lair, the Mad Mask toiled away, feverishly typing on a keyboard with one hand while drawing on an electronic slate with the other. (The Mad Mask was not born ambidextrous, but learning how to do a different task with each hand was simplicity itself to the likes of the Mad Mask!) His ebony mask sat on the workbench next to him, watching as he slaved away.
“Soon,” he cackled to himself. “Soon! The Mad Mask’s plans are nearly complete! Soon, Ultitron! Soon, you will range over the world, executing your diabolical mission with the perfection only the Mad Mask can envision and only you can perform!”
He talked out loud because it made his thoughts more important, to have them out in the air as opposed to merely confined to the Mad Mask’s own head.
“With the help of the Azure Avenger, Ultitron will revenge myself on the world! And once the Azure Avenger has performed his duties … he will no longer be of any use to the Mad Mask….”
Under the voluminous sleeve of his cloak, a beeping sound interrupted his soliloquy. It was the alarm on his digital watch.
“Ah! The Mad Mask must go! It is time to bring my new … associate up to speed on the design of the magnificent Ultitron! Fortunately, with the help of this matter transmitter” — he picked up a small box from a shelf — “the Mad Mask will be instantly teleported to the Bouring Lighthouse!”
With that, the Mad Mask gathered his electronic slate and slipped his mask into place. He threw back his head and laughed, long and loud.
The matter transmitter flashed and then the lair was empty, with only the echo of the Mad Mask’s crazed laughter remaining to fill it.
A sudden burst of light caught Kyle off guard, flaring, then dimming. Kyle’s glare-filters had once again come in handy, automatically sliding into place at the first sign of excessive brightness. Sometimes Kyle’s genius impressed even him.
“The Mad Mask appreciates punctuality! Your timeliness is noted!” crowed the Mad Mask as the light vanished.
Kyle’s jaw dropped. He teleported! The Mad Mask actually teleported! That should be impossible. Kyle had spent a lot of time thinking about a teleportation device. The energy requirements were off the charts, and the massive displacement of air at the arrival point — to say nothing of the sudden vacuum at the point of departure — were flaws he hadn’t been able to overcome.
And yet … Here was the Mad Mask. Instantly.
“How — how did you do that?” Kyle asked, aware that he had just stuttered like his father.
The Mad Mask waved off the question as though it were beneath him. Then, as if making sure Kyle got the point, he said, “Such questions are beneath the Mad Mask!”
Kyle bristled. He was impressed, yeah, but he wasn’t about to let the Mad Mask treat him like some kind of flunky. “If we’re going to be partners, you need to trust me,” he said. “I’m going to learn your technology anyway.”
The Mad Mask considered. He actually stroked the underside of his mask between a thumb and forefinger, as if stroking a beard. Kyle realized now the real reason why the Mad Mask had waited for Kyle to fly away last night — he didn’t want Kyle to see him teleporting. Maybe now, though, he was beginning to trust Kyle.
“You speak truthfully,” the Mad Mask conceded. “In time, the Mad Mask will teach you the secrets of his technology. For now, we will begin with the magnificent Ultitron. Then, when you have learned enough, we will explore the miracles of teleportation! Together! The Azure Avenger and the Mad Mask!”
This last was shouted so loudly that Kyle looked around to make sure no one had overheard.
“Okay, that sounds fair,” he agreed, after making sure they were still alone.
The Mad Mask tilted his head, gazing up at the lighthouse as it towered over them. “Beautiful …” he murmured, almost inaudible through the mask. “Quite … beautiful …”
“Can we get started?” Kyle asked. There would be plenty of time to admire the architecture later.
The Mad Mask produced an electronic slate from under his cloak and held it out to Kyle. “On this slate, you will find the schematics and blueprints for the splendid Ultitron, along with the Mad Mask’s design notes!”
Kyle hesitated, looking at the slate and the hand that held it, remembering the power of the force field.
“Fear not!” the Mad Mask said. “The Mad Mask’s force field detects threats, not casual touches. You will not be harmed!”
Kyle took the slate. “Could you stop referring to yourself in the third person? It’s sort of confusing. And I think all the shouting is giving me a headache.”
The other shrugged. “The Mad Mask shall endeavor to lower his voice and to avoid the third person!”
Kyle sighed and flipped on the slate. His eyes bugged out behind his mask. The plans were the craziest, most complicated things he’d ever seen … and this was coming from the guy currently transforming an old motorbike into a time machine. He studied them for a moment, trying to get his bearings, but nothing seemed to make sense. Needless to say, Kyle wasn’t used to being in this position.
“This is … interesting,” he said, stalling. He flicked through the screens on the slate, schematics whirring by, looking for something he could recognize, anything at all, just something to get a grip on …
Finally he stopped. This looked familiar. It was … a foot.
A gigantic foot.
Kyle scrutinized it for a moment. This couldn’t be …
“Is this to scale?” he asked, bringing the slate closer to his eyes. At the same time, that brought it within Erasmus’s Wi-Fi range. Now Erasmus could read the slate, too.
“This is … crazy …” Erasmus whispered in Kyle’s ear, sounding — for the first time ever — impressed.
“All images are to scale,” the Mad Mask said, like a commercial.
“But this foot is enormous!” Kyle said. “If the scale is right, then the whole robot will be something like six or seven stories tall —”
“Ten stories tall,” the Mad Mask said triumphantly. “The Mad Mask … er, I prefer nice, round numbers. And small feet.”
Kyle was blown away. The sheer size of the robot … He had imagined something human-size, maybe a little bigger. Ten feet tall at the most. But this thing … It would be taller than anything else in Bouring, including the very lighthouse right next to them.
“How …” He stopped himself before he stuttered again, clearing his throat. “How did you design this? Why did you even come up with this in the first place?”
The Mad Mask planted his fists on his hips and tilted his face (er, mask) dramatically toward the sun, which obligingly cast a glowing black sheen over the ebony wood. “Once,” he intoned, “the Mad Mask was a child, much as yourself, living, toiling in obscurity and anonymity. And then, one day as you may have heard, the stars fell down in this very town, not far from here.”
The plasma storm! Kyle thought, excited. Of course, if it boosted his own intellect, why couldn’t it do so to the Mad Mask, too? But he hadn’t seen anyone at the footbal
l field that night, so how …
“In the days following that astronomical event,” the Mad Mask went on, “I journeyed to this town, my curiosity piqued. Although there were warning signs and police tape around the area in question, that could not stop such as I from a meeting with … my destiny!
“I explored the sports field where the stars had fallen down! And while I found nothing there, something clearly found me. For in the days that followed, my intelligence doubled, then doubled again and again!”
“It’s exactly what happened to you!” Erasmus said in Kyle’s ear.
Yeah, except it made him smarter, if these plans are any indication, Kyle thought sourly.
As if he could read Kyle’s mind (and, in a way, he could, since they shared brain patterns), Erasmus whispered, “But he didn’t get superpowers, and you did.”
That was true. Being strong and fast and invulnerable and not bound to Earth wasn’t a bad consolation prize.
He tuned back in to the Mad Mask’s story, still in progress.
“… such largesse, however, did not — could not — come without a price. And a most horrible price it was, Azure Avenger!” Here the Mad Mask got choked up. He bent over, cradling his mask in both hands. “The radiation did more than increase my intellect. It also … horribly disfigured me!”
It did what?
Kyle couldn’t believe it. Now it all made sense — the beautifully crafted, lovingly carved mask wasn’t just to protect the Mad Mask’s true identity, like Kyle’s hood; it was there as a new face, to replace the one that was destroyed by the radiation. Those feelings of jealousy he’d had a moment ago suddenly seemed immature and pathetic. Kyle had rolled the dice with the plasma curtain’s radiation and come up with a greatly enhanced brain and superpowers. The Mad Mask had gotten better smarts, sure … but he also could never show his face to the world again.
Yikes.
“What did it … do to you?” Kyle asked. Some part of him wanted to know — he was curious, he couldn’t help it — but he also hoped that the Mad Mask wouldn’t pull of the mask and show him. It was probably pretty gross.
The Mad Mask straightened, his spine ramrod stiff. “We shall not speak of it!” he proclaimed. “The Mad Mask has only one face now!” He rapped the wooden mask with his knuckles, producing a hollow glock-glock sound. “Doctors could do nothing for me. My parents turned away from me. This face shall now suffice!
“Thus devastated,” he went on, continuing his story, “I fashioned a mask to hide my hideous visage from the prying eyes of a cold, uncaring world and swore most sacred revenge against beauty itself! Now, with your help, I will complete Ultitron and destroy all that is beautiful in the world!”
“Wow.” It was all Kyle could think of to say. Destroy beauty? Really? That was the Mad Mask’s goal? It seemed like a waste of time to Kyle, but if the Mad Mask wanted to blow up a couple of museums and trash a state park, he could do it. Kyle had more important things to worry about.
“Yes,” the Mad Mask said, nodding. “Wow, indeed, Azure Avenger. Wow, indeed.”
“Kyle,” Erasmus whispered, “we have a problem.”
“What?” Kyle asked automatically, forgetting that the Mad Mask couldn’t hear Erasmus.
“I said, ‘Wow, indeed,’” the Mad Mask clarified.
“Mighty Mike is on his way,” said Erasmus.
Erasmus’s Wi-Fi range was limited, but Kyle had installed a police scanner chip recently. It helped keep him apprised of the movement of the police so that he could avoid any unpleasant encounters.
“Apparently someone saw us and called the cops, who — predictably — called you-know-who,” Erasmus went on, talking over the Mad Mask, who was now describing the difficulties he was having with Ultitron’s motion controller unit.
“We have to get out of here,” Kyle interrupted. “Now.”
“The Mad Mask does not appreciate such rudeness.”
“I’m sorry, Mad Mask, but Mighty Mike is on his way. He’ll be here in just a few —”
“The Mad Mask fears no one — man, woman, child, or platypus!”
“Platypus?”
“Have you ever seen a platypus?” The Mad Mask shivered. “They’re freaky.”
“Well …” Kyle nervously checked the sky.
“And yet, the Mad Mask does not fear them! Nor does he fear Mighty —”
“Good to know,” Mighty Mike said, swooping in from the top of the lighthouse. Kyle jumped back a step.
“Run!” he shouted to the Mad Mask. At the same instant Erasmus shouted, “Run!” so loudly that Kyle yelped and slapped a hand to his ear.
“The Mad Mask runs from no one!”
“Then stand right there!” Mighty Mike said, and plunged from the sky, his fists leading the way. Kyle reflexively flinched, but Mike was headed for the Mad Mask first. He slammed into the taller boy and …
KRACK-A-WHOOM!
The air itself exploded with a flash of hot white light, the sound of a thunderclap resounding as the Mad Mask’s force field activated, flinging Mike backward heels-over-cape into the woods behind the lighthouse.
“Whoa …” Kyle could hardly believe what he was seeing. The Mad Mask had just delivered a massive smackdown to the alien punk. It was the most awesome thing ever.
A moment later, a large piece from a dead tree trunk hurtled out of the woods, aimed right at the Mad Mask. But Mike’s aim was off — the tree was going to miss the Mad Mask and slam into the lighthouse instead. Kyle dived for it, knocking it aside before it could smash into the walls Mairi’s mom had so carefully and lovingly restored.
“Be careful!” Kyle yelled. “Watch the property damage!”
“Watch your own property damage!” Mike yelled back, soaring out of the woods and flying straight at Kyle.
“That doesn’t even make any sense!”
A moment later, the talking stopped as Mike slammed into Kyle. They traded punches for a second or two and then the Mad Mask stepped in, grappling Mike from behind.
Mighty Mike shouted in pain as the force field crackled around him. Kyle jumped back just in case the force field couldn’t tell the difference between him and Mighty Mike.
“You have to move this along,” Erasmus said in Kyle’s ear. “We’re too close to the lighthouse. With all this energy and superstrength …”
He didn’t need to finish. Kyle understood. He wished he had Mighty Breath like Mike did — then he could just blow Mike and the Mad Mask away from the lighthouse. But he would have to find another way.
He picked up the dead tree trunk Mike had flung so carelessly.
“Fisticuffs!” the Mad Mask chortled, punching Mike in the face as Mike grimaced. “Who knew physical combat could be so exhilarating!”
“Duck!” Kyle shouted, swinging the tree trunk.
“Duck? Duck-billed platypus —”
The Mad Mask was cut off as the tree trunk smashed into him. Kyle hissed in a sharp breath and winced at the impact. Oops.
Fortunately, the force of the blow made the Mad Mask collide with Mike, who stumbled back a few steps. The Mad Mask seemed unharmed, his force field still protecting him. Kyle replanted his feet and hefted the trunk again, ready to take another swing at Mike.
But before he could crack the alien on the head, Mike’s eyes flashed black and the tree dissolved into melting goo in Kyle’s hands. As Mighty Mike turned his gaze to Kyle, Kyle felt a tingling sensation along his neck and face.
Oh, no! That black vision of Mike’s couldn’t hurt Kyle — but it could destroy his mask!
Kyle dodged the black beams and watched a shallow scar sizzle its way along the wall of the lighthouse.
“Now look what you’ve done!” he told Mike.
“You shouldn’t have moved!” Mike complained.
Kyle threw himself at Mike, determined to stop him before he caused more damage to the lighthouse. At the same moment, the Mad Mask swung a fist. They both connected with Mike at the same time, throwing him back into
the woods.
“That won’t hold him for long,” Kyle said. “We need to —”
“Flee, my ally!” the Mad Mask said. He shoved the slate into Kyle’s hand.
“But …”
“Flee!” The Mad Mask grabbed Kyle’s arm and pushed him away from the melee. “I will cover your escape! We shall meet again — soon!”
For a moment, Kyle couldn’t move, rooted to the spot. It made sense to get the heck out of here before Mike grabbed him or ripped off his mask or something like that, but he didn’t want to just leave the Mad Mask in the lurch like this.
“He said go!” Erasmus yelled. “Quick! Before Mike recovers.”
Kyle moved as fast as he could, grabbing his backpack and then taking off at top speed. He stayed low to the ground so that no one could see him. Just before he disappeared into the trees, he heard the Mad Mask shout, “Yes! Come again, Mighty Mike! Test your pitiful brawn against the brainpower of … the Mad Mask!”
Wow.
Kyle’s escapes were always spectacular, he reminded himself. What could be more spectacular than bulleting away from a throwdown between his hated nemesis and his … his …
His most powerful ally.
He weaved through the trees until he couldn’t hear the battle anymore, then cut to the east, where he knew the highway intersected with Major Street just outside of Bouring. The billboard that said YOU ARE ABOUT TO ENTER THE TOWN OF BOURING — IT’S NOT BORING! as well as THE HOME OF MIGHTY MIKE! loomed ahead. Landing just out of sight of the highway, Kyle quickly switched outfits, stuffing his costume into his backpack. After a moment’s thought, he added the Mad Mask’s electronic slate. He would have to figure out how to return it.
Hefting his backpack on both shoulders, Kyle walked home. He still couldn’t believe what he’d seen. The Mad Mask was completely fearless, totally unafraid of Mighty Mike. Not that Kyle was afraid of Mike — he was just afraid of what Mike could do to him. Kyle knew that if he wasn’t careful, it would be all too easy for Mike to rip off his mask in a tussle and reveal his identity to the world. So Kyle preferred not to mix it up with Mike physically. Although he had to admit — the few times he’d punched Mike, it had felt really good!