Rogues: The Omega Superhero Book Four (Omega Superhero Series 4)

by Darius Brasher

  “Colorful,” Ninja said.

  “That too,” Isaac said, eyeing the man’s outfit.

  “We’re more likely to get straight answers out of a crack addict than this guy,” I said, disgusted. So much for being pleased with myself for preserving someone for questioning.

  “Not so fast, young Padawan,” Isaac said. His form glowed and shimmered as it always did when he underwent one of his transformations. His body lengthened and widened. When the shimmering stopped, a strapping, bare-chested, pale white man with shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair and wearing a green and black tartan kilt stood before us. Young, handsome, and long-limbed, he was taller than Ninja and I by a considerable amount. He glowed a very faint reddish-yellow, yet not like how Isaac glowed from every pore when he transformed. This man’s glow was more like a halo. A smooth black stone the size of my fist was in a mesh bag hanging from the man’s belt. A broadsword far longer and thicker than Ninja’s katana was in his meaty fist. The sword’s blade had its own whitish glow separate and apart from the nimbus around the man. A spear hung diagonally from his back, held in place with a leather strap across his hairy chest. The shaft was wooden; the tip was covered by a brown leather bag tied shut at its opening by a rawhide cord. A thick red liquid oozed from the bag in a serpentine line down the shaft. Blood, from the looks of it.

  In his new form, Isaac lifted his sword and held it against the immobilized man’s throat. The sword’s glow spread to encompass the man’s body, like a burning candle that had ignited an unlit one.

  “The mighty Fragarach compels you,” Isaac rumbled in a voice much deeper and richer than his usual one. His voice had an almost musical quality, like resonant notes played on an organ. “Is Doctor Alchemy on the island now?”

  “Yes,” the man said immediately, though his voice sounded reluctant, like he didn’t want to answer.

  “Where is he?” Isaac asked.

  “When I last saw him, he was in the throne room.”

  “And how do we get to this throne room from here?”

  The man gave us instructions and directions, interrupted occasionally by clarification questions from Isaac. Once Isaac wrung all the information he could out of the man, he removed his sword from the man’s throat. The white glow around the man disappeared like a doused flame. I used my powers to choke the man unconscious. Then I tied him up with vines my powers yanked from the vegetation in the distance.

  By the time I finished, Isaac had turned back into usual self. I had never seen him use that form before, but it had been awhile since we had been out in the field as Heroes together. “Who was that and how did you get this guy to spill his guts?” I asked.

  Isaac shrugged modestly. “Lugh Lamfada from Irish mythology, though he’s probably better known as Lugh the Long-Armed. His sword is named Fragarach. The Answerer. It’s like Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth. Only without the bustier. I don’t have the rack for it.”

  Newfound respect was in Ninja’s eyes as she looked at Isaac. “You’re far more impressive than how you come across,” she said.

  “That’s the worst compliment I’ve ever gotten. You’re just mad because my sword was bigger than yours. Clear case of sword envy.”

  “Come on, let’s go,” I said, impatient to get this expedition over and done with. Were lambs similarly eager to head to the slaughterhouse? I knew my pessimism was the wrong attitude to confront a Rogue with. The Academy and the Old Man had pounded a can-do attitude into me, not a can’t-do one. Being captured and tortured had a way of shaking one’s confidence.

  I led the way off the beach, past the line of palm trees, and into the thick vegetation. Tall, thick, and jungle-like, the vegetation swallowed us. It plunged us into gloom like we had entered the belly of a beast. Only the buzzing and chirping of insects and the faint scurrying of animals in the underbrush marred the silence of the jungle.

  Following the directions of the man Isaac had questioned to the letter, we avoided a passel of boobytraps that we surely would have triggered had we not known of them. The force field I had up probably would have protected us, but you could never be too careful when dealing with someone like Doctor Alchemy. Deadfalls, land mines, poisoned darts, arrows tipped with explosives, proximity detectors that shot lasers . . . we dodged them all and more thanks to the intelligence gleaned from Doctor Alchemy’s subject. We could not fly because going airborne would have triggered alarms in Doctor Alchemy’s lair. He likely already knew we were here thanks to my stupid pyrotechnics earlier, but why surrender even the possibility of having the element of surprise?

  After a while, it felt like we tromped through the vast jungles of darkest Africa. I kept the thought to myself. Isaac would accuse me of being racist. I was starting to wonder if we would stumble upon Doctor Livingstone before we found Doctor Alchemy when suddenly, we were here.

  Here was a black rock face at the base of the looming volcano. Isaac moved tangled vines out of the way, revealed a numeric keypad recessed into the rock face. Isaac started punching in the seven-digit access code he’d gotten from Doctor Alchemy’s subject. It then dawned on me why the numbers had seemed familiar when the man had recited them—they were the day, month, and year Neha had been born.

  A fresh wave of guilt washed over me. Despite everything else he was, Doctor Alchemy was still Neha’s father. Him blaming me for her death was understandable.

  I pushed the thought away as soon as I had it. Doctor Alchemy’s anger and grief were no excuse for all the people he had hurt over the years. He had to be stopped.

  Isaac hit the last digit of the code. A section of the rock face disappeared, as if it had never been there. A large corridor was revealed that wormed its way deep into the volcanic rock. Except for the first few feet, the corridor was pitch-black. Doctor Alchemy could be standing in there with a bazooka pointed at our heads and we wouldn’t know it.

  With my heart in my throat, I probed the dark corridor with my telekinetic touch. No bazooka, and no Doctor Alchemy. Never was I so relieved to not find the person I was looking for.

  Ninja’s katana began to glow as if it burned with a pink flame. Knowing it could cut through anything when imbued with her Metahuman power, I was careful to keep my distance. Ninja stretched her katana tentatively into the corridor, dispelling some of the darkness.

  “Do you have to be in contact with your sword to pull off that sparkler trick?” Isaac asked in a low voice.

  “No. I just have to be near it. But what good is a sword without an arm to wield it?” Ninja answered, also in a low voice. “I’ll go first and light the way. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  Isaac said, “Be my guest. I’m a firm believer in gender equality. Plus, I learned from every horror movie ever made that the black guy who’s the first to go into the dark and scary place is the first to die a horrible death.”

  Ninja ignored Isaac as if he had not spoken. She was learning. She stepped into the corridor. I followed, and Isaac brought up the rear. Once we were all inside, the rock wall reappeared behind us, cutting off all the light from outside.

  Ninja’s sword was our only source of illumination as we crept along. After a bit, the corridor began branching off into different corridors. Without hesitation, Ninja led us first this way and then that, following the directions the man tied up outside had given us. Even with those directions, it felt like we were making our way through a maze. There were still no lights.

  As we penetrated deeper into the lair, the walls of the corridor changed from being bare rock to being ornately decorated with stonework, gemstones, and elaborate friezes and murals featuring Doctor Alchemy vanquishing various foes and posing heroically. The gemstones glittered with reflected pink light like thousands of demons’ eyes as we went deeper and deeper into the lair. We passed numerous closed doors to various rooms. Other than us, all was still and quiet. We did not encounter a single soul.

  “The last time we were here,” Isaac whispered in my ear, almost making me jump, “this place was lo
usy with people. Well-lit too. Now it’s as dead and dark as a tomb. I don’t like it. Reminds me of our Academy days when we went into that vacant building after Iceburn. And that didn’t turn out so well for Team Us. Why do I get the feeling we’re walking into a trap again?”

  “Probably because we are,” I whispered back. Though I still didn’t sense anyone in the corridor or any surveillance devices, I couldn’t fight the feeling we were being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  “Fantastic,” Isaac said. “Good pep talk.”

  After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at the ornate double doors that were the entrance to Doctor Alchemy’s throne room. I had never been to the Taj Mahal, but I imagined this was what the main entrance to that fantastically expensive building looked like—huge, made of precious metals, and decorated with a fortune of jewels.

  The man Isaac had questioned said there would be guards posted. They were nowhere to be seen. Like the walls of the corridor we had traveled through, these doors and the walls around them were immune to my telekinetic touch.

  Ninja and Isaac looked at me. I was startled when I realized they looked to me for guidance. Maybe Avatar or Omega Man would have inspirational words to share, or a brilliant battle plan to sketch out. Me? I had nothing. Unfortunately, neither the Omega spirit nor the Omega suit had come with an owner’s manual full of strategic wisdom. If I got out of this place with my neck intact, maybe I’d end the no guidance cycle by jotting down some thoughts for the next vessel of the Omega spirit. Don’t be foolish enough to return to the scene of the torture crime would likely be on top of the list.

  For lack of a better idea of how to proceed, I reached to pull the doors by their ornate handles. Both doors silently swung toward me before I laid a hand on them. I jumped out of their way. My racing pulse roaring in my ears. I blinked against the bright light pouring from the other side of the doors.

  “Well, well, well, Mother,” Doctor Alchemy’s strong voice rang out confidently. “I spy with my little eye three trespassing Heroes about to die.”

  CHAPTER 32

  The three of us darted cautiously yet quickly into the throne room, ready for anything. Ninja was in the middle, moving in her usual agile way. Isaac and I were on either side of her. We spread out to avoid presenting a single target.

  Doctor Alchemy and his wife were directly ahead of us on the other side of the huge room, at the end of a red carpet running from the doorway to them. They sat on thrones resting on a platinum dais. Crowns that would have made a British monarch green with envy were on both of their heads.

  “I really should have killed you before, Omega,” Doctor Alchemy said. The room was so large, his voice echoed. “Alas, my desire to prolong your suffering and my flair for the theatrical gave you an opportunity to escape. It is like something a Bond villain would do. I do so hate acting the stereotype. Especially one invented by a loathsome Brit.” A smug smile slowly spread across Doctor Alchemy’s masked features. “On the other hand, you are once again in my clutches. And, you were thoughtful enough to bring your fellow daughter-killer Myth with you. And the redoubtable Ninja too boot. It is an absolute embarrassment of riches, Mother. I hardly know whom to kill first. Diwali has come early this year. Diwali is akin to Christmas, Omega, since I cannot imagine you know. As unlettered white trash, how culturally literate could you possibly be?”

  While Doctor Alchemy blathered on, I took a careful but quick survey of the room, hyper-alert to any threat. Though the Thakores’ thrones were of matching size and shape, hers was golden; his was made of a translucent, almost transparent, substance. I would have thought it quartz had I not known his towering ego would never let him sit on such a base substance. Diamond, maybe, but I had never before seen so much of it in one place. Doctor Alchemy had his usual costume on, including his gauntlets and utility belt. His purple cape was draped over the armrest of his throne. Rati Thakore had on a rich, shoulder-baring sari, and fairly dripped with gold jewelry. Above their heads hung an enormous chandelier that spanned the entire area of the dais below it. The chandelier dangled from the high ceiling by thick cables. The chandelier’s light, refracted by innumerable crystals, made it look like countless tiny spotlights illuminated Doctor Alchemy and his wife.

  The lush red carpet that ran the length of the room was trimmed with gold. The floor it rested on was a bluish-purple stone. Lapis lazuli, maybe, polished to such a shine that it glistened like it was wet. On the walls were more bejeweled murals of Doctor Alchemy performing spectacular feats. Famous stolen paintings were also on the walls, with Doctor Alchemy’s face painted over the original subjects’ faces. The ceiling was covered with gold leaf.

  Caligula’s palace would seem tasteful and modest compared to Doctor Alchemy’s throne room. Yet despite the distracting garishness of the room, it was impossible to miss the fact that there were dozens of Doctor Alchemy’s subjects lined up in staggered rows on both sides of us. As if we had rehearsed it, Isaac and I shifted our stances to face the throng of subjects closest to each of us while still keeping a wary eye on Doctor Alchemy. Though the men and woman all had sidearms, they were holstered. Their bodies pointed straight ahead toward us three Heroes, but their heads were all turned to look at Doctor Alchemy and his wife. The subjects looked at the enthroned Thakores with rapturous expressions, like devout Christians witnessing Jesus’ resurrection. It was creepy and unnerving.

  The only person in the assembled throng who did not have that worshipful look on his face was Oliver, Doctor Alchemy’s manservant. He was at the front of the subjects, on my side of the red carpet. He had a resigned look on his face, as if he knew how crazy Doctor Alchemy was, but was powerless to do anything about it. Unlike when I had last seen him days ago, his wrinkled old face and hands were mottled red, black, and blue. I shuddered to think of what the rest of his body looked like under his uniform. Obviously, Doctor Alchemy had deduced Oliver had a hand in my escape, and he had punished Oliver accordingly.

  “That’s quite far enough,” Doctor Alchemy said sharply. His ominous tone and something about the way his hand fondled the top of his utility belt made us stop advancing toward him. We halted roughly in the middle of the large room.

  “Surrender yourself before someone gets hurt,” Ninja demanded of Doctor Alchemy.

  The room was silent for a moment. Then Doctor Alchemy’s laugh broke the silence. The echoes of it reverberated around the room. “‘Surrender yourself before someone gets hurt,’” he repeated mockingly in a high-pitched impersonation of Ninja’s voice. “You’re deep in the bowels of my lair, surrounded by almost a hundred of my faithful subjects, within spitting distance of hundreds more, accompanied only by two adolescent Heroes, and armed merely with a glowing pigsticker. I admire your chutzpah if not your grasp on reality. Hobnobbing with godlike beings when you were on the Sentinels has gone to your head, making you think that you too are godlike. You are not. You are but a somewhat agile pre-menopausal woman with questionable tastes in companions. You will surrender to me, not the other way around.”

  “Three Heroes against one Rogue with delusions of grandeur and a bunch of his coked-up followers?” Isaac sniffed. “I like our odds.”

  “It is no wonder my daughter graduated ahead of you in your Academy class, Myth,” Doctor Alchemy said, shaking his head in sorrow. “For you really are not particularly bright, are you? Even with all of your abilities arrayed against us, Mother and I have two things in our favor that make all the difference: The brains to know you would be coming, and time to prepare for your arrival. You Heroes are all too predictable. Once I discovered Omega had escaped, I knew he would eventually return with his sanctimonious lips thirsting for justice. I also deduced he would bring help since I defeated him so handily before. The island’s surveillance cameras showed he had escaped in the clutches of a giant mythological bird that is not supposed to exist. So, it was not hard to guess one of the helpers he would return with would be you, Myth. Ninja’s appearance I will a
dmit is more of a surprise. I imagined Omega would enlist the aid of someone more formidable—Amazing Man, perhaps—but one must not look a gift horse in the mouth. Killing you Ninja will be much more satisfying than killing Amazing Man. Your teammates were responsible for my daughter’s death, after all. Plus, you and the Sentinels have been quite the thorn in my side over the years. It has warmed the cockles of my heart to watch your team’s fall from grace.

  “Knowing you would come back, Omega, I had time to get ready for your return. You no doubt have already determined that everything in this room is immune from your telekinesis. With a mind such as mine, repurposing the anti-telekinesis technology of Iceburn’s suit was child’s play.” Unfortunately, he was right—I’d determined the moment the doors had swung open that trying to latch onto anything in this room was like trying to grab a phantom. My powers would only work on myself, Ninja, and Isaac. Otherwise I would have immobilized Doctor Alchemy long before he subjected us to this self-congratulatory ear-beating.

  “When I became aware you were on the island, I assembled this welcoming party for you,” Doctor Alchemy continued pompously. “Complete with party favors. Each one of my devoted subjects you see here has an alchemy cartridge in his or her mouth. If you do not surrender, I will push this lovely button on my belt,” he caressed the button fondly, “and each cartridge will explode, taking my subjects’ heads with them. Boy,” he said, snapping the fingers of the hand that didn’t hover near his belt, “open your mouth and stick out your tongue so my guests will know that I am not bluffing.”

  Oliver complied. One of Doctor Alchemy’s cartridges lay on his tongue.

  Doctor Alchemy’s eyes flicked back over to us. “You and I both know you will surrender. You will not risk innocents being killed. As I said before, you Heroes are all too predictable.”

  “You expect us to believe you would kill your own people?” Isaac asked incredulously. Despite what I had told him about Doctor Alchemy, hearing about what he was capable of and seeing what he was capable of were two different things.