A Hero By Any Other Name

by Stackpole, Michael A.

  “Are you sure you’re on board?” I appreciated his enthusiasm, but I had to be sure Leo knew what he was in for. “This guy is for real. He may be dumb, but he’s still dangerous.”

  “We have to do something, don’t we?” Leo replied. “Who else is going to save us?”

  Both of us were silent at that.

  The problem was, it was easy to ask yourself, “What would Marvelous Man do?” but in reality, there was no way for us to compete with the feats a real superhero would be capable of. But we were smart. Maybe we could beat The Smash anyway ... if we hurried.

  We were careful in our approach to the area where The Smash had been working so he wouldn’t take us by surprise. Although, between his potential eyesight issues and the amount of noise he was making, it ended up being easy for us to get near without too much trouble.

  About a hundred yards away from where The Smash was doing his thing, we found the perfect spot to enact the plan we’d concocted. The alley that ran behind our friend Stu’s comic book store was dimly lit and just out of his sight. Quickly, we checked the back door of the shop to make sure it was open. It was nearly closing time, and we didn’t know when Stu would lock up and head to SoCalCon. We wanted to be sure we could make a quick getaway when we needed to.

  There wasn’t much time, so we rushed through our prep and just had to hope for the best. I was so afraid The Smash would finish his work and disappear to wherever he’d come from. And then we’d have to deal with his potentially smarter master.

  “Ok, Leo, I gotta run. Think Marvelous thoughts.”

  “Right.” Leo leaned over and plucked something from the pile of stuff we’d brought with us from home. He held it up.

  “What’s that?”

  “My insurance,” he grinned. “You should take one too.” He picked up another small container and handed it to me.

  The noise The Smash had been making suddenly stopped, so I didn’t have time to inquire any further of Leo. “Good luck. See you on the other side,” I said and then took off, pocketing the container on my way out of the alley. I already had a flashlight stuffed into my costume and the two items together felt bulky as I ran. I was just grateful that I hadn’t gone with spandex after all.

  I jogged to within twenty-five yards of where The Smash had been. I could see he was now carefully crushing tiny bits of metal and plastic with his toes. He’d done a job on that phone booth. And he was clearly very detail-oriented.

  The first thing I had to do was test to see if his vision was really as bad as I’d suspected it was. I was careful to stand a safe distance away before unleashing my taunts.

  “Hey, Smash!” I yelled.

  With a quick swiveling motion, he scanned around, looking for me. “I am The Sssmash to you. Come out and face me like a man, Ssstupendousss Boy.”

  “Huh? Oh, right.” I’d been so focused on our plan that I’d already forgotten my claim to being Marvelous Man’s sidekick. It looked like the alien had better recall than he did vision. “I’m right here. In front of you. Can’t you see me?”

  He spun to face my voice. “Of courssse I can. Where isss Marvelousss Man?”

  “He’s on his way.”

  As The Smash stalked closer to me, clearly following the sound of my voice, I slowly backed away, toward the alley.

  “Where are you?” he growled.

  “Right here.”

  “You are moving.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m right in front of you.”

  With that, he lunged suddenly and I jumped. His near-blindness had made me a little bit too complacent. It was a good thing he couldn’t track me well, or I would have been dead. I made sure to weave slightly as I taunted him, just to confuse him. But still he followed me unerringly.

  “Where isssss Marvelousssss Man?” The Smash was starting to sound agitated. “I do not believe that he isss here.”

  We were standing at the opening to the alley now. “Oh yeah? Than what’s that?” I cried as loudly as I could as a cue to Leo. I flicked my flashlight on, aiming the beam at Leo’s chest, where a metallic M emblazoned in what I hoped was an impressive way. His cape billowed out majestically behind him, thanks to the small battery-powered fans I’d set up on crates and hidden behind garbage cans.

  Leo would never pass for Marvelous Man up close, but from a distance, in a dim alleyway, at twilight, to a near-sighted alien? No problem. While Leo didn’t exactly have the physique of Marvelous Man, he was bigger and taller than I was. And besides the licensed and extremely accurate costume, he was also wearing a padded fake muscle suit, a red mask, and a black, pompadour-like wig.

  From where we stood at the end of the alleyway, the muscle suit looked real and the M blazed brightly. Leo’s head gave off a faint but saintly glow, as did the fist that he held triumphantly, Marvelous-style, up toward the heavens.

  “No, it cannot be,” the alien gasped. “You were dead,” he called to Leo.

  “I got better,” Leo called back, with a shrug.

  The Smash looked quickly in my direction. I shrugged also, big enough so he could see it. “I told you.”

  Leo bent, and I saw him drop the light stick he’d been clutching in his hand before he picked up a fake boulder, a remnant of a costume photo shoot we’d staged here last weekend. I cringed a bit when I saw Leo nearly lose the glow necklace, which I’d bobby-pinned to his head earlier. I shot a glance over at The Smash, but I don’t think he noticed the gaff. He was busy watching Leo heft the plaster and Styrofoam rock, which I have to say looked way more realistic than it had during our shoot, which had been done in broad daylight.

  The Smash moved closer toward the mouth of the alley and I could see him straining for a better look. Leo suddenly hurled the boulder at The Smash, barely missing on purpose so as not to give away how light the fake rock was.

  The Smash backed up, but then moved closer to Leo, unable to contain his curiosity. I was getting nervous that he might lunge again, but I wasn’t sure whether it’d be at me or at Leo. He took two more steps forward.

  Leo leaned over a second time, and then came a huge burst of light. The Smash and I both winced at the brightness of it. When the spots cleared from my eyes, Leo was gone.

  “Where did he go?” The Smash demanded.

  “To fight crime, of course. And I, uh, as his sidekick, must join him. Tell your boss that Marvelous Man’s alive and not to bother coming here! You’ve punished us enough by destroying our, uh, transporter thing.” With that, I dodged past The Smash and charged down the alleyway, digging the container Leo had given me out of my pocket as I ran. I quickly opened it and flung the powder inside to the ground, right near the spot where Leo had been standing.

  I’d realized what Leo had done, of course, as soon as I’d seen him vanish in a puff of smoke. As I did a similar disappearing act into the back door of the comic store, I promised never to make fun of his magic kit again. Clearly it was a necessity for every fake superhero to have enough flash powder on hand so they could make a theatrical exit when they needed to.

  “Where’s Marvelous Man, I mean Leo?” I gasped as I burst into the store. I quickly flipped the deadbolt, though I had no idea if that would really protect us from The Smash should he come investigating. I was pretty sure he could knock that door down in seconds.

  Stu pointed to the stairs that went up to the loft. “Up there. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Soon as I can. Hey, maybe you should lock the front door for a while,” I yelled as I pounded up the stairs.

  “But I have customers in here ...” Stu’s protest drifted up behind me.

  Leo was already half-changed out of his costume and I didn’t waste any time removing as much of mine as I could. We had to resort to borrowing some of Stu’s inventory to change into, and I smiled to myself as I pulled a Marvelous Man T-shirt over my head. I hoped we had done him proud.

  We shoved our costume stuff into an Incredible Hulk-themed duffle bag that Leo had turned up and wedge
d it onto an empty shelf, piling more T-shirts around it for camouflage. After that was done, we turned and grinned at each other, both of us elated over what we’d just pulled off. We wouldn’t know if it had truly worked for a couple days at least, but we’d both survived to tell about it. And now we’d have to fill Stu in.

  “Hey, that’s my merchandise,” Stu complained mildly as we both came back downstairs.

  “Just put it on our accounts,” I said. “It was a necessity.”

  “What is going on? You both charged in here in full superhero garb, like you were being chased by Anarchy. You’re scaring my customers.” He gestured at a blond woman, who was holding some Batman comics.

  “I’m fine,” she called back, clearly realizing that she was being talked about. With that said, she ducked into the next aisle.

  Leo went to peek through the rear door of the storeroom to see if the coast was clear, and I turned to Stu. “You are not going to believe what just happened.”

  “Wait for me,” Leo called from the back. I could hear him opening the door and creeping outside which made me shiver a bit. I hoped The Smash was long gone.

  It didn’t take Leo long to come back with a report. “He wasn’t in the alley. I peeked around the corner and didn’t see any sign of him. It looks like his ‘sabotage’ of the phone booth is done and now he’s reporting to his boss.”

  I laughed at the puzzled look on Stu’s face, and Leo and I quickly filled him in, pausing when the blonde woman came up to pay for her comics. I hoped she hadn’t heard too much of our conversation, since I’m sure it made us sound more than a little crazy. Besides, it would be smart to be more careful when talking about real bad guys. You never knew who could be listening.

  “All set, Jess?” Stu said as he rang up the woman’s purchase. “Jess is one of our regulars,” he explained to us.

  “For my son,” she said, pointing at the comics she’d picked out as Stu put them in a bag for her. She turned to leave and then added, “I have to say, I like the superheroes that build their own gear better than the ones with special powers.” She gave us a wink and waved at Stu. “See you next week!” The front door jangled shut behind her.

  What she’d said made me thoughtful. If Leo and I were going to be any kind of superheroes, we’d definitely have to be ones that relied on their brains rather than their superhuman strength or innate ability to fly. We’d managed to do just that today, against a near-sighted, dim-witted, detail-oriented thug, but who knew if we could pull off something like this against someone smarter?

  Leo, Stu, and I spent the rest of the afternoon brainstorming contingency plans, though we really hoped we’d discouraged these bad guys from returning to Earth. After all, Lord Whatsit’s minion hadn’t been very bright. Surely that didn’t say much about his own intelligence, did it? Hope springs eternal, as they say.

  Then we realized that if the baddies did appear back here sometime in the next seventy-two hours, they’d be seeing Marvelous Man everywhere they looked. SoCalCon was huge, partially because it was being hosted in the city where Marvelous Man had lived and fought crime. And died. It was also the first SoCalCon after his death, so Marvelous Man was going to be a big deal—there would be hundreds of people dressed up like their favorite superhero all over the city all weekend long.

  This wasn’t a perfect defensive plan, of course, and there was always the chance that someone could get hurt if The Smash and friends turned out to be more than we could handle. It was very clear, though, that we had to find a way keep Marvelous Man alive. His very presence had kept us safe and now we needed his legend to carry on.

  We had friends in the Marvelous Man fandom, and with their help, maybe we could keep the ruse going to try to trick any outside invaders. If we could get every comic nerd we knew to spread the tales of their Marvelous Man sightings around, and if our fellow Marvelous Man costumers could be ready to make a faux appearance if more aliens came back, well, then maybe we’d have a chance.

  We weren’t sure what we would do if a more intelligent villain, like Anarchy, showed up—but we couldn’t solve every problem on the spot. We’d just have to take them as they came. Perhaps we were short one Marvelous Man now, but we’d make up for it—with our own legion of marvelous men and women.

  About the author

  Maggie Allen is new to the publishing world, but not new to writing. By day, Maggie writes professionally about non-fictional topics in astronomy and astrophysics. And at night, she spends time in other creative pursuits. These include running her popular costume websites (The Padawan's Guide to Star Wars Costumes, The Costumer's Guide to Movie Costumes), writing short stories, sewing 18th century gowns, and playing guitar in a rock band, which just came out with its first album of original music. She is excited to be a part of this anthology, which has allowed her to combine storytelling with her long-time interests in all things geeky.

  About the story

  “A Marvelous New World” takes place in the aftermath of Janine Spendlove's story, “He was a Marvelous Man.” Her story made me wonder how the appearance of a real, live superhero would affect the comic book geek community, and I also liked the idea of those geeks getting a chance to become a part of superhero mythology themselves.

  All-Star

  R.T. Kaelin

  There are three ways to become a superhero. The same applies to sidekicks, mostly.

  The first takes as much skill as being born, because that is exactly the way many heroes gain their powers. They might be born on some distant planet and have godlike powers on Earth, or hail from another realm—and still have godlike powers on Earth. The result is the same: through no effort of your own, you have godlike powers on Earth. Unfortunately for Alex, godlike powers are rarely bestowed upon people born in St. Louis.

  The second path is typically unplanned and most often involves a significant amount of pain. Some sort of tragic accident occurs, be it unintentional irradiation, a mix-up with a DNA experiment, or someone getting stabbed with a secret government serum. After said accident, some sort of transformation takes place that more often than not involves intense physical and mental stress. And screaming. There is almost always screaming.

  Now depending on how one might look at things, Alex was either fortunate or unfortunate not to have had such an experience. On one hand, there was no doubled-over-in-agonizing pain while sprouting another set of arms or tentacles or wings. On the other, no powers.

  The third path to becoming a superhero, a path theoretically available to most anyone, involves a lot of intense training, excruciating discipline, a clever mind, and a brave heart. Luck helps, too. A lot of luck. This was the only path available to Alex, and the one he had been doggedly pursuing for the past month. Things, however, were not progressing all that well. A masterpiece sculptor needs a good hunk of marble with which to start, not a chunk of Quickcrete.

  In Alex’s eyes it seemed painfully obvious that Lawman had made a mistake hiring him as a sidekick. Today, Alex was going to rectify that error.

  He stood in the sterile hallway, bathed in the warm glow of an overhead can light, and staring at the mahogany door of Lawman’s office. He took a deep breath, went to lift his arm to knock, and stopped suddenly, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his shoulder and stabbed at his back. Getting thrown into a wall had hurt.

  Keeping his fist at about waist level, he rapped his knuckles twice against the door.

  “Come in.”

  Turning the knob, Alex pushed the door open and stepped into Lawman’s office, squinting against the room’s brightness. A half-dozen industrial lights hung from the tall ceiling. Two floor lamps were also on, as was the green-glass Tiffany lamp sitting atop the desk. As the entire complex was underground; Lawman kept most of the rooms overly bright to compensate for the lack of sunlight. The panel of monitors displaying the images from the countless surveillance cameras arranged in and around the hideout flickered from one scene to the next.

  Lawman was not at his d
esk as was typical. Rather, he sat at the dark cherry conference table with papers and photographs strewn before him. Two laptops were at his side, open and running some sort of search based on the blinking “processing…” centered on the screen. An urgent call had come in earlier from someone in the Department of Defense. Alex did not know what was going on, nor did he care. Not anymore.

  Lawman sat with his head down, wearing his iconic crimson and white suit. Alex was convinced the superhero slept in it. He still did not know what the man looked like under the crimson cowl. Without looking up from the items before him, Lawman spoke. “Pick a name, yet?”

  Alex approached the hero, his sneakers squeaking on the polished stone floor before sinking into the expensive, intricately woven rug upon which rested the table. He had changed back into his “normal” clothes before coming: jeans and ratty Harley-Davidson sweatshirt. Alex had never ridden a motorcycle, but wearing the orange and black shield emblem had always made him feel tough. Until recently.

  “I don’t need to,” answered Alex, stopping before the table, opposite Lawman.

  The superhero Lawman kept his gaze down, fully engrossed in the intelligence displayed before him. “If you don’t pick one, the Metro News will. And you might not be happy with the result. Ask Captain Moonrise.”

  Captain Moonrise was a brawny and rather brusque man, prone to angry outbursts and profanity-laced tirades. On the night he made his superhero debut to the world, a rather unfortunate photograph was taken of him standing atop a building, silhouetted against the full moon. The less than tough-sounding name had stuck.

  “Actually,” said Alex. “I won’t be needing a nickname.”

  “‘Alex Butterworth’ is hardly suitable for a superhero. Besides, using your own name is a bad idea.”