by Mia Archer
Everything in this part of town had already been run down by grinding poverty and the steady march of the the American economy marching out of city centers and into the suburbs, but it looked even worse now.
Most of the slums in Starlight City tended to look like shit on a good day. It was a side effect of having an area that didn't get much in the way of tax dollars to keep things looking all nice, shiny, and new.
Couple that with a tendency for lesser heroes and villains to duke it out in these places nightly, and more powerful heroes and villains to regularly start their fights in these areas as a warm up for their main fight downtown and you had a recipe for an area that didn't look the greatest.
Now, with an invading alien army blasting everything to shit and no government to move through and make sure things got repaired, things looked even worse than usual.
Which made it something of a surprise that the building in front of me looked didn’t look all that bad. At least on balance. I suppose there was a time when the place would've looked just as run down as everything else around it, but these days the place was conspicuous in the way it was obviously taken care of while all the other buildings in the area had clearly been abandoned.
Someone was obviously trying to make this place look at least presentable. Which should’ve been my first tip off that there was something different about this place. It turns out I didn't even need to go around shooting a bunch of thugs to try and figure out where the criminal underground was hiding. All I really needed to do was look around until I found the place in the seedy slum that still looked halfway decent in the middle of a protracted alien invasion.
I moved into an alley that ran along the side of the building. And then to a set of stone stairs that, unlike the building, looked like they hadn't seen any upkeep in decades. Concrete crumbled out from under me as I stepped down, and I made sure to double check that the antigravity was still working under my disguise.
I was proud of this disguise, but there was one glaring issue with it. Anyone out and about while alien invaders were running the show was immediately conspicuous, but whatever. It's not like there was much else I could do since I had to be out here to find the secret criminal underground. I wanted to infiltrate this place the old-fashioned way. I didn't want to just teleport in and start shooting.
Partly because I wasn’t even sure where to teleport too, but mostly because I needed these people on my side. In my experience teleporting into a location and shooting at random wasn’t a very good way to get someone on your side.
As I moved down those steps I also realized something else. Even the crumbling steps were part of the clever maskirovka the criminal element running this building had put together. Someone went to the trouble of making these stairs look like a death trap even though they were actually quite solid. Down to putting crumbling cement all over the thing.
Someone was going to a lot of trouble to make this building look like a rundown piece of shit, and the only thing that’d screwed up their scheme was the fact that aliens had come along and made it obvious that someone was maintaining that rundown piece of shit look with loving care.
I knocked on the door, and I got my next surprise that told me I was finally on the right track. The door sounded heavy when I knocked. The kind of heaviness that usually came with a door that’d been made of solid metal and reinforced so even a low-level superpowered person couldn't get in there without giving the people on the other side a few seconds to get the hell out.
Not that it would keep me out if I wanted in there, but I figured someone reinforcing something on a hunk of junk like this building was yet another sign I was on the right track.
A slim rectangle on the door pulled open revealing brown eyes on the other side. I couldn't see the rest of the person's face, but he had wrinkles around his eyes and stubble that said he didn’t bother shaving all that often. Not because it was a fashion statement like some of the hipsters who’d adopted civil war facial hair recently so much as because he clearly didn't see the point in taking the time to shave.
"What do you want?" the guy asked.
"I want you to let me in," I snapped.
I had to remind myself that I was doing this incognito. That there was no way he could know who I was. Because if this jerk knew who I was there was no way he’d be standing there talking to me with such insolence.
No, if he knew who I was then he’d be running in terror right about now instead of hitting me with a dose of undeserved insolence. Which also wouldn't get me into the secret criminal underworld. If I knew anything about secretive criminal organizations then the moment they realized Night Terror was on their tail would be the moment they went to ground and I’d have to start all over again vaporizing low level criminals.
Talk about more work than I wanted to deal with right about now. Not when there were new chunks of the city being destroyed by a rampaging Fialux.
"Why the hell should I let you in?" he asked, his eyes running up and down my disguise. “I’ve never seen you before, and you don’t look like anything special.”
I pretended to think about that. I put a finger up to my lips as though I was really mulling it over. Meanwhile I reached to my side with the hand I wasn’t using to distract him by stroking my chin.
The distraction worked. I pulled up the alien pistol I'd confiscated. The thing looked like a raygun straight out of a 1950s science fiction movie or something, and the guy’s eyes went wide as I pointed the barrel right between his eyes that he’d so obligingly presented to me as a target.
“My friend here says you want to let me in buddy,” I said with a sweet smile.
“You think pointing a gun at me is supposed to intimidate me or something?” the guy grunted.
“I think it might be a part of doing business for you, but I also think there's no way you're getting away from that little peephole fast enough to avoid me planting a plasma charge in your brain. Ever seen what it looks like when a plasma blast gets inside someone’s skull? They start glowing from the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and any other extra holes you might develop as a result of the plasma blast going in there. You basically turn into a living Jack-o-lantern, though of course you won’t be around to see it since your brains will be busy getting fried by the low yield superheated plasma blast ricocheting around your skull’s insides.”
“If you’re trying to intimidate me…”
“I’m not trying to do anything,” I said. “I’m simply stating facts. I'm also pretty sure this thing will go through whatever material that door is made out of. Might take a few blasts since I have it set on a low enough yield to pierce your skull and bounce around the insides, but you can bet your ass the first spot I’m firing on is that nice juicy target right on the bridge of your nose that you so obligingly presented to me.”
He sighed. Rolled his eyes in a manner that wasn't very becoming of a bouncer at a secret criminal organization. A moment later the little rectangle revealing his eyes disappeared. I really thought about going ahead and firing through the door. I wouldn’t be able to do the Plasma-o-lantern thing, but I could still chase him down and shoot him in the back as he ran which was always fun.
Alas, the door handle turned and the door swung open with a surprising lack of creaking. I would’ve totally expected a creaking door from a place like this, if for no other reason than it added to the ambience.
"Come on in," the guy said, jerking his head towards the darkness. Then he continued, muttering. "I really wish you jerks wouldn't try to prove yourselves by pointing weapons at my face. There are a hell of a lot easier ways to get into the damn place."
I patted his cheek as I made my way through the entrance. I also totally scanned my surroundings to make sure there weren't any surprises waiting in there for me. I didn't want to get through the first layer of security only to find that they had a bunch of thugs waiting to jump me and really ruin my day.
No jumping happened though. Good. For them, that is. The last thing I wan
ted was to reveal my identity too soon because of a bunch of low-level criminals decided to attack me.
“Well?” I said, gesturing towards the darkness. “I have no idea where the hell I’m going here. Show me to the criminal underworld please.”
The bouncer rolled his eyes again. I had a feeling he got a lot of guff from wannabe criminals with an overdeveloped sense of self-importance, but he had no idea who he was dealing with today.
Besides, if he didn’t like dealing with people with an overdeveloped sense of self-importance then he was totally in the wrong line of work.
“Come on,” he said finally. “I’ll show you around.”
I smiled my sweetest smile. A smile that always got me places. Sure it got me places because it was a smile that was always accompanied by my wrist blaster, but whatever. The point is it worked.
“Lead on my good man!”
12
Criminal Underground
“Listen, all I really need is to talk to the person who’s in charge. If you could take me straight to them that’d be great.”
I tried not to grind my teeth as we made our way deeper beneath the city. I was starting to wonder if this place hadn’t been used as part of the Underground Railroad or something like that once upon a time, because a lot of these tunnels were made out of brick and looked like they’d been down here for awhile.
Basically it was the kind of place that would’ve been pretty fucking awesome to explore as a kid, but it wasn’t the kind of thing I had time to stop and enjoy now.
As though to underscore the point that I was on something of a timetable here there was a shuddering off in the distance and dust sprinkled down from the brick above.
“Fucking aliens,” the bouncer said.
“Which is exactly how I feel about the alien invaders,” I said. “So if you’d just introduce me to the nice person running things here then we could…”
“Look lady,” the guy said. “I’m not going to say a damn thing about what’s going on here until you’ve shown you’re reliable, and you’re sure as hell not meeting the big kahuna until you’ve proved yourself.”
“Aha!” I said. “But you called them the big kahuna. You’ve already revealed too much, because now I know your leader is a Pacific islander!”
I racked my brain trying to think of a villain who was a Pacific islander, but I was coming up with a big blank. Although the idea of a muscled villain who was basically a tattooed version of The Rock with his charisma seemed pretty cool now that I was imagining it.
The doorman rolled his eyes again. I got the feeling he did that sort of thing a lot.
“What?” I asked.
“I didn’t give anything away,” he said. “I’m so sick and tired of you villainous types trying to psychologically profile me and read into everything I say. Sometimes a spade’s a spade, and sometimes a person is inexplicably a fan of old Annette Funicello movies so they pick a name that comes from those movies they love. Ever think of that?”
“Oh,” I said.
To be honest I was having fun psychologically profiling the guy. It’d been awhile since I’d had to go up against an enemy where I’d had to do that sort of thing, and as with all skills, that was a muscle someone had to flex from time to time if it was to be kept in fighting shape.
“But you did mention villains and you recognized the raygun I was carrying as soon as it was pointed at you,” I said. “So I figure that at least means this is the place where all the city’s supervillains are hiding out, right?”
“Not saying a damn thing,” he said. “And there are a lot of people running around with those rayguns these days. Ever since the aliens invaded attacking people with high tech shit isn’t exactly a Night Terror thing anymore. Doesn’t take a giant deductive leap to know it’s a bad thing when one of those is pointed at your forehead.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, suddenly very interested since the guy was mentioning yours truly.
“Totally,” he said. “There was a time when she had a monopoly on that sort of thing. It was a sight to behold. I got to see her fighting Fialux once.”
Now I was very interested. Sure I hadn’t come here to have my ego stroked, but he was talking about seeing me fighting Fialux like a sports fan might talk about seeing their favorite player throwing around a ball for millions of dollars.
“How did it go?” I asked.
“She got her ass kicked,” he said. “Like she always does against Fialux, though I’m pretty sure the two of them had a thing going once upon a time.”
I tried my best not to frown. Again I reminded myself that this dude had no idea who he was talking to. That it’s not like he was antagonizing me on purpose. And, to be fair, an awful lot of my fights against Fialux had ended with me getting my ass handed to me.
I was so annoyed at this asshole casually mentioning me getting my ass handed to me that I almost didn’t notice the bit about Fialux and me being an item. Even then I figured the guy was probably only repeating some of the rumors that’d been flying around.
Those rumors never did get to the point of the two of us landing on the front page of the tabloids that made all their money by speculating about the sex lives of the more attractive heroes and heroines in the city.
Which I figured could mean one of three possibilities. One, me and Fialux weren’t considered hot enough to sell copies of those rags. Unlikely considering how hot she was. As for me? Well let’s just say if I ever had a teleporter accident where there were suddenly two of me then I wouldn’t be above a little one-on-one action with yours truly. Two, those rags never realized we were an item. Also unlikely considering they were willing to construct veritable orbital elevators out of molehills.
I figured the most likely explanation was door number three: those assholes knew the moment they started writing about me would be the moment I showed up in their offices with my wrist blaster set to disintegrate.
As Internet keyboard jockeys were so fond of pointing out, freedom of speech meant the government couldn’t shut a paper down for printing lies and fake news. It didn’t say anything about a villain shutting a yellow gossip rag down with a disintegrator ray.
Sure there were murder statutes on the books that had a lot to say about that sort of thing, but I’d never paid attention to those statutes before, so why would they think I’d start now?
My little reverie about the difficulty of maintaining freedom of speech in Starlight City was interrupted as we stepped into a dingy room that looked like it hadn’t been updated in decades. Maybe not in a century. The whole place had a brick motif going for it like everything else around here.
A little old lady sat at a folding card table. She had a newspaper out and was concentrating pretty hard on her Sudoku. I was impressed with her dedication to her old lady pastime considering we were in the entrance to an underground villainous lair in a city that was under attack by an invading alien army that seemed like they would be very interested in taking out a villainous lair if they could find it.
“Evening Ethel,” my bouncer friend grunted.
The old lady, Ethel I presume, reluctantly looked up from her puzzle. She looked annoyed to be interrupted, and it was a sentiment I could understand. I always hated it when someone interrupted one of my gaming sessions, after all, and I imagine it wasn’t any less irritating just because a game was played with pencil and paper rather than bits and bytes.
“What do you have for me?” she asked.
I stepped forward. I was getting sick and tired of the red tape in this place, and it was time to cut through some of it.
“Listen. This is a nice villainous lair you have going for you here, and I really need to talk to whoever the hell is running the place. Is that you?”
The old lady regarded me like she dealt with people coming through here all the time demanding that they take them to their leader.
I got the feeling she wasn’t the leader though. No, this was yet another of many obstacles keeping me from g
etting to the truly important person down here, and it took every ounce of my self control not to grind my teeth.
That wasn’t a great habit when I didn’t have a lab with a functional dental med unit ready to fix those problems.
“Name?” she asked.
I almost told her I was Night Terror. I figured that would open some doors down here for sure. Then again there was also a good chance uttering that name would send this place into lockdown.
Sure I figured “lockdown” for this place meant a bunch of thugs coming at me and getting vaporized for their trouble. I didn’t expect anything that could actually threaten me, but it would still be a delaying tactic that would give the people I desperately needed to get in touch with time to escape. I’d be back at square one killing petty thugs to try and get them to reveal the new villainous hidey-hole.
“Natalie,” I said, not really caring if the world knew my true name at this point. It’s not like I had any loved ones that I had to nobly sacrifice for or any bullshit like that.
Not when the one woman I’d ever loved was already trying to kill me and take over the world.
“Right. Natalie,” Ethel said, sounding very bored as she pulled out a notebook from under her Sudoku book. “Do you have any powers worth anything?”
“Look, I don’t know what kind of operation you’re running down here, but if possible I’d like to skip the initial recruitment phase and get right to the point where you take me to your leader,” I said.
She stared up at me and lowered her half moon spectacles. They glinted in the light of a single bulb hanging down from a wire in the middle of the room. Her eyes told a story. She was old, and she’d put up with a lot of shit in her life. I was merely the newest addition to the pile of shit she’d had to endure, and she wasn’t going to put up with my bullshit any more than she’d put up with the rest.
“Do you have any powers Natalie?” she asked in the same bored tone.