Atomik Lad sat on the Danger: Couch. He slouched the way a limp body would if someone had thought to place it there as a sort of practical joke to scare the bajeezus out of the next person to enter the room. The Danger: Living Room was completely dark save for the soft glow of the Danger: TV. He flipped through the channels so quickly it created a strobe effect. He came to a stop at the Action Eye Witness On the Spot News Action Team Terror War Goodthink Edition News Coverage music.
“Hello, I’m Steve Stevenson.”
“I’m Robert Robertson with sports.”
“And I’m Erica Erickson. Johnny Johnson has the weather. Here’s your eleven o’clock news.”
The camera focused on Steve’s face which had been tele-genetically engineered to induce a deep feeling of trust and warmth when viewing it. “Tonight’s top story. Tomorrow will be the thirtieth day since the capture of Superion. Over ninety-eight percent of Metroville’s eleven million citizens have been returned to their homes to date thanks to the tireless efforts of the city’s overhero community and Überdyne.”
A shot of Erica. “That’s right, Steve,” she said while staring blankly into the space just in front of the camera. Her generically inviting looks weren’t too good to make women viewers jealous, but they just good enough to statistically interest men. She wasn’t beautiful per se, but more like a committee’s idea of it. “I had the pleasure of meeting up with some of those selfless heroes while they were on site helping to rebuild the city after their epic battle.” She fake smiled a half second too long while the tape was cued up.
Footage of Nuklear Man’s beaming face filled the screen while Erica tried to push herself into the camera’s frame. She shoved a microphone between herself and the self-adoring Hero. “How does it make you feel to bring so much hope for the citizens of Metroville?” she asked
“Well, I’ll tell you Diane.”
“Erica.”
“Never contradict me,” he snarled. “Ahem. As I was saying, it makes me feel good. Good because it reminds me how much more powerful I am than everyone else. Good because it reminds everyone else how easily I could destroy their puny little world. Why, in the blink of an eye, I could vaporize you into your composite particles. I am the Nuklear messiah of the electric age! Bow down! Bow down before my power! And then get up again. And dance. Dance for me, my pawns! Mwa hahahahaha!”
The camera panned as Erica walked past Nuklear Man to Atomik Lad. “He’s such a jokester, that Nuklear Man,” she said to the ex-sidekick as he came into frame.
“Joking?” one could just barely hear Nuklear Man say from off-camera.
“Facing down Superion was quite a feat,” she said to Atomik Lad. “Why did you do it?”
Atomik Lad fidgeted a bit. His weight shifted from one leg to the other as he spoke. His eyes darted between Erica’s and the camera lens, “Er. We. I mean, we just do what has to be done. I’d like to think that anyone would’ve done the same in our position.”
“Well, I don’t know if I would have,” Erica said with her idiotic anchor-person laugh.
“You are a local news reporter after all,” he mumbled as the microphone moved on to Mighty Metallic Magno Man.
“Yo.”
“Mighty Metallic Magno Man, what would we do without heroes like you three?”
“Oh, we’re not so special. Parents, teachers, community leaders, volunteers, those are the real heroes. I think we forget them because they’re just every day people. That, and they don’t go around moving mountains or tossing cars across the road. But they deserve every bit as much recognition as we get. If not more.”
How could ya not love that guy, huh? Huh?
“Thank you, Heroes. For your time and for your dedication.”
“Dance for me!” Nuklear Man said from the background just before the cut to Steve’s close-up in the studio. “Thanks, Erica. In other news, authorities are still searching for the whereabouts of the internationally infamous overvillain terrorist, Dr. Veronica Menace. She is wanted for questioning in regards to her role in Superion’s rise to power and subsequent defeat by the city’s Heroes.”
Atomik Lad rolled his eyes. “I told the news people a hundred times that we would have lost without Dr. Menace’s help,” he grumbled.
“Meanwhile, Superion himself is still being held in special quarters at Überdyne while awaiting his trial. Judge Hangemall Letgodsortitout had this to say: ‘That boy ain’t got a chance. The power was knocked out at my office during that confounded battle and I had to go without watchin’ no wrastlin’ tapes for like an hour!’”
Another shot of Erica. “When we come back, footage of the Skyjumper, the new spacecraft designed by Dr. Genius, and her thoughts on its maiden flight tomorrow morning. And Rob with sports.”
Atomik Lad hit the mute button and rest the top of his head against the plush cushion of the Danger: Couch. The Danger: Main Doors were high above him. Little yellow guide lights blinked along the cylindrically curved Danger: Walls up to it.
“Hey there, Sport.” Rachel’s grinning face invaded his field of vision.
He winced. “Let’s stick with Sparky, eh?”
She leaned down on the Danger: Couch’s fluffy back and kissed him on the forehead. “Just teasing.”
“Hmmphf. I’ll tease you.”
“Promise?” she said with a coy wink.
“Good gravy,” he whispered. “Ahem. Finished your homework then?”
She shrugged. “I’m not doing any more of it anyway. Would it have been asking too much for you boys to take your little battle closer to campus? Maybe take out a chunk of the Fine Arts building so I wouldn’t have to do this crap?”
“We were a bit pressed for time. Next epic battle, though. I promise.”
“You’re a peach.”
“You know I try.”
“So what have you been doing out here while the rest of us were diligently not flunking out of school, hm?”
“Oh, just watching TV. Stupid news is on. They’re still talking about Superion.”
“Geez. It’s been, what, a month already. They need to get over it.”
“I know. It’s like they love to hear themselves talk so much that they don’t care what they’re saying, as long as they’re saying it. Even if it’s the same crap over and over.”
“It’s nothing more than meaningless distractions to keep people from worrying about what really matters.”
Atomik Lad shifted around to get a better and more comfortable view of her. “You know they still treat Menace like she’s as much of a villain as Superion. They don’t come right out and say it, but they practically scream it with the language they use.”
“Ugh. She saved me,” Rachel said. “Hell, she saved the city. I swear, these news programs spend so much time telling us how trustworthy they are just so we’ll unquestioningly swallow whatever tripe they throw at us.”
“Don’t get me started.”
“Well, I’m going to bed. Hope to see you soon,” she said with a wink.
“You will. I just have to work up the motivation to stand up.”
“I’m not motivation enough?” she said with mock offense.
“You know that’s not it.”
“I know. I’m just making light of a dangerous situation, Mr. Field. Besides, it’s been what? Two weeks since the last time you nearly killed me. I think we’re making some real progress.”
“If you can call that progress.”
“Shush. We’ll get through this. We just have to take things slowly. I don’t mind waiting. I’m sure you’re worth it. And you know what?”
“Hm?”
“I know I am.”
“Hm!” He gathered some semblance of mental coherence. “I…oooh…lady, you…flubba. Waaaa.”
She laughed. “What have I told you about flattery?”
“Why do you think I’m doing this—I mean—What?”
“Silly boy.” She walked back into the Danger: Katkat’s Room.
“Yowza�
�� Atomik Lad told the darkness.
__________
Tuesday morning, twenty-thousand feet above sea-level and climbing…
The Skyjumper was a prototype space craft. Depending on how it was equipped, it could serve as the replacement to the aging Space Shuttle, or become a way to the stars for commercial fliers. The Skyjumper’s main asset was affordability. It was amazingly cheap to build and maintain compared to other designs. Probably because it employed a larger version of Dr. Genius’ own hover belt so all it needed was a relatively small but constant supply of power to alter the Intrinsity of the space around the craft to allow it to move around.
Dr. Genius sat in the passenger compartment of the Skyjumper which would have been exactly cramped enough to be annoying, like regular commercial airliners, if not for the fact that she was the only passenger on board. She flipped through some readouts, scribbled some notes, and made some calculations with her handy mini-supercomputer.
And still her thoughts wandered.
How could I have let Superion come to power? Media manipulation. I hadn’t thought Veronica capable of that kind of subtlety, that kind of forethought, patience. I hope the media filters I’ve put into place since are enough to ensure that the public at large does not turn on our Heroes again. I must secure the public’s trust in them so they can continue to gallivant around the world, showing off those wonderful KI manipulations for my remote sensors to detect and analyze. Every iota of data leads me one step closer to my ultimate goal.
The Skyjumper rattled slightly as it passed through turbulence or some such. She leaned closer to the window to get a better view. The Earth’s surface was a slow motion model coasting below her. Clouds whizzed past. She craned her neck to look above the rising craft. Venus and a few bright stars could be seen if one knew where to look.
Should be docking with the Watchtower space station soon now. She flipped through some files. Shimura Yuriko, better known to the world as Psiko. Of all the titans I see every day, of all their god-like powers, for all their feats of strength, it is this eighteen-year old girl whom I envy.
Psiko. It’s short for Psychic Girl in her native Japanese, though it’s a bit misleading. She isn’t a true psychic, no precognizant abilities. Sidenote: to date, no true psychics have emerged. Explore possible ramifications concerning nature of time, quantum mechanics, free will, and fate.
Where was I? Ah, yes. No, Psiko's powers aren’t precognizant, but they could be said to be extracognizant. Her senses stretch far beyond the normal human range, beyond anything else found in nature. The police often brought her to crime scenes to find clues they might have missed or could have never detected in the first place. Apparently her senses don’t depend on their respective organs. Or rather, they have the capacity to exceed the limitations of them. My theory is that she is actually perceiving a hybrid of ordinary sensory input, the same as the rest of us, as well as raw KI. With the proper training, it is my belief that I could help her shed all reliance on her biological senses. After all, she is only falling back on them out of habit. From an evolutionary standpoint, she must shed her chains. Humans got out of the ocean, Psiko must accept that her skin is a cast off one.
The girl has no idea of the power she wields. Imagine it, the girl can actually perceive KI fields and retain her sanity. The poor girl has no idea, no understanding of them! Why was she given this ability? Why her? Why not me? Imagine. No more clumsy Kopelson Equations. No more Dodeca-Matrix Dilemma. Imagine, actually seeing the fields for what they are.
No, that’s using archaic terminology. The language of the flesh.
Knowing the fields, the universe. That’s what is at stake here. Locked away in her mind are the very blueprints of creation. And she has no idea.
But perhaps I can fashion a key of some kind.
Her powers are quite impressive. She can communicate telepathically, read surface thoughts, and even probe other minds for their deepest secrets, though it comes down to a battle of wills at that point. She can implant subconscious impulses and alter one’s emotions. But perhaps the most versatile and, for my purposes, useful application is her ability to, as I like to put it, walk among minds. While she’s talking to someone telepathically, she can perceive that person’s immediate surroundings as though she were seeing them through that person’s eyes. She can then connect to any other minds in the area and do the same to them, seeing through them, and so on and so on. So far she’s only gone seven minds deep before passing out from the strain. But potentially, the only limit to this particular power is whatever her sense of self and sanity can endure. If pushed to those limits and beyond, then there’s a chance of driving her to a kind of epiphany. Or, alternately, a complete ego obliteration. The latter would prove to be another obstacle in the final stage of her use, but one that is not necessarily insurmountable.
Sidenote: Conduct study of delusional psychotics and compare their observations with local KI data. Find correlations, inconsistencies, etc.
They called her Psiko because of the mind reading, but that was just the beginning. Growing up in Japan’s largest city, Mechapolis, it was only a matter of time before she applied her powers to a computer whether by design or by accident. Not only can she walk among minds through devices like live video feed or a simple telephone, but she can walk among the minds of computers as well. She’d be the world’s most dangerous information pirate if it weren’t for her strong sense of morals. She could potentially hack into any system and leave no trace of ever having been there.
And yet, as amazing as these feats may be, they are so base, so meaningless in the face of what she could be. My window into the world of Intrinsity.
Outside the Skyjumper, the blackness of space swept over the craft and the Earth’s thin atmosphere fell behind her. Soon they’d begin the docking procedure with Überdyne’s all-purpose orbital space station, the Watchtower. Please put chairs in the full upright and locked positions.
__________
Meanwhile, about thirty feet below ground and crawling…
A lone spaceship raced through a star system completely alien to its own. The pilot was a deadly mixture of brash ruggedness, daring bravery, and dashing skill. A rogue’s rogue. One pilot versus the hive-mind armada of the hideous Gorthzok Empire. It was a suicide mission. And he liked those odds.
But rogue’s rogue space fighter pilot suicide mission types don’t have time to play around with odds. They don’t even have time to unload a full charge of proton shearing Megablasters and still dodge the incoming volley of homing missiles.
But they do it anyway.
Atomik Lad was hunched over the Danger: Supercomputer. His body lunged and leaned in time with his joystick movements as though that somehow helped his on-screen avatar avoid the waves of incoming alien gunfire. “Geez, they weren’t kidding about girls taking for-freaking-ever to get ready.”
“I heard that!” Rachel yelled from the Danger: Bathroom.
“Well then you can also hear me kickin’ the hell out of Level Five.”
“Good work.”
“Good wo—It’s Level Five! I started when you went into the bathroom to get ready for class. We’re going to be late as it is and you’re still not done!”
“You want me to look my best, don’t you?”
“I’ve seen your best. I know it can’t take you this long to accomplish that.”
The Danger: Bathroom door opened with all the velocity, menace, and terrifying presence of a glacier. “What. Did. You. Say.”
He paused the game. Oh shit. What did I say? Oh shit! “Er, no wait. What I meant was. You see, because you’re so incredibly beautiful, I should imagine you’re already so darn close to the maximum expression of beauty that human genetics could possibly allow, therefore it shouldn’t take you long at all to reach your, what is simply heavenly, best.”
She gave him The Look.
“Eh heh. So it’s a simple case of misunderstanding you see. You took my innocent and complimentary words
as an insult. I mean, why would I ever so much as suggest that you’re ugly?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re looking for an easy way off this mortal coil.”
“Um, no?” The Danger: Bathroom door closed. “Whew.”
“Whutish!” Nuklear Man said from the Danger: Couch with a little air-whip motion as he and Katkat vegged out on the Danger: TV. “You just gonna let her walk all over you like that?”
“Nuke. Shut up. I’ve been with you for ten years and you’ve never even been on a date, so you’ve got no room to talk about it.”
“Heh. Apparently someone forgot all about a certain hush-hush heated affair I’ve been carrying on with Dr. Genius for the past few months.”
Atomik Lad blinked. “That’s Norman. Norman is going out with Ima.”
Nuklear Man gave a patronizing smile. “Oh, stupid, naïve, pathetic, weak, cowardly Atomik Lad. Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, that’s part of our cover to keep prying eyes from prying into our forbidden love?”
“Good God, no.”
“Well. It works pretty good then, don’t it.”
“Shut up.”
Rachel emerged, at last, from the Danger: Bathroom as the very incarnation of beauty. “Okay. Let’s go,” she said sweetly.
“All righty,” Atomik Lad responded.
“Whutish,” Nuklear Man observed from the safety of his Danger: Couch.
“What was that?” Rachel growled while looming over the now craven and cowardly Hero.
“Um. Gulp, nothing?”
“That’s what I thought.” She turned to Atomik Lad. “Ready to go, hon?” she asked while on her way to the Danger: Launch Pad.
“Sure thing.” He stood up from the Danger: Supercomputer and entered his initials into the hi-scores screen. “Whutish, huh?”
“Shut up,” Nuklear Man mumbled, still in a fetal position.
“Uh-huh. Try not to hurt yourself while we’re gone.” Atomik Lad joined the lovely Ms. Rachel at the Danger: Launch Pad and carefully wrapped his dangerous Field around both of them. The Danger: Main Doors crept open high above them. Atomik Lad rocketed the two of them out of the Silo like a ballistic missile. It elicited a happily terrified scream from Rachel.
Nuklear Age Page 53