Nuklear Age

by Clevinger, Brian

  A bony finger slowly reached out to a button labeled Intercom.

  __________

  Shiro, Angus, and Norman walked through one of the Mall’s side entrances. A corridor twenty feet long and ten feet wide spilled out into the main hall wherein many shops lined the walls. The one directly in front of them was a Toy Junction. Between them and the Toy Junction was a treasure chest display promising “Free Mall Maps!!!!”

  “Let’s get one of those maps,” Norman suggested as they walked inside. “We’ll be able to find the quickest route to the Food Court Junction.”

  “It wouldna be a problem if’n we weren’t late.” He scowled at Shiro. “Ah bloody hates bein’ late!” Angus growled at Shiro. “Now, Ah ain’t gonna mention no names,” he told Shiro. “No, ye see Ah’m above stoopin’ to that level.”

  “Are Angus-san who are the sureness when Action Time now of that?”

  “Bah! Ye an’ ye damned talkin’! It was ye that made us late, ye daft goat-arse-brained twit!”

  “Hey, c’mon Angus,” Norman said while pulling a Free Mall Map!!!! from the treasure chest. “ We’re right in front of a toy store. You don’t want one of these kids picking up that kind of language, do you?” he warned for all you moms out there.

  “Bah! Wee brats. ‘Oooh, lookit me! Ah’m eight friggin’ years old but Ah gots ta bend over to pull wee Mr. Angus’ beard.’ Ye just keeps right on bendin’ over, laddie! Angus has goot somethin’ for ye!” he roared while brandishing his Surprisingly Concealable and Wieldly Enemy-B-Smote Named Bertha at passersby.

  “Yeah, that’s better, Angus,” Norman said while trying to look inconspicuous. “Did you ever go to those anger management classes?”

  “Aye. That wee laddie had it comin’ to him, he did. Said Ah had so much anger ‘cause Ah was repressin’—”

  “HACK COUGH WHEEEEZE!” the intercoms all across the labyrinthine Mall blared. “Attention shoppers,” a raspy voice announced. “There will be an 80%-off sale on all Super Mega Action Guy toys and related products for the next ten minutes. That is all.”

  “Supaa Megaru Action Guy!” Shiro squealed in delight. He ran into the nearby Toy Junction.

  “Oh, no ye don’t,” Angus grumbled and caught Shiro by his Tetsu: Collar to lock him in place. The samurai’s legs pumped uselessly and sparked against the tile floors.

  “Shh,” Norman said. “You guys hear something?”

  Other than Shiro’s little Tetsu: Boots scuffing against the floor, all was silent.

  Then there was a distant something. It was a chanting, shrill and completely random like a hundred voices singing a hundred songs and they were all off key.

  “Aye,” Angus said in a warrior’s knowing whisper. “Aye. Ah do.”

  “Supaa Megaru Action Guy!”

  “Shut up!” Angus said, and threw Shiro to the ground.

  The ground began to tremble ever so slightly.

  Norman’s body flashed into silvery tungsten. Angus planted his little feet squarely and hefted Bertha. Shiro dusted himself off.

  “Nani?”

  A tidal wave of children splashed around a corner with violent fervor. Their mouths babbled insane gibberish, their eyes flashed with wildness. They rushed down a long corridor straight for the heroes.

  “Ooh, Ah been waitin’ fer a chance like this,” Angus said with elated anticipation.

  “Wait!” Norman said. “They’re kids. We can’t hurt them.”

  “The hell we can’t, they be weaker than us!” The Surly Scot grumbled while testing Bertha’s balance. “This thing won’t kill ‘em, but they’ll sure wish it had!”

  “Here, use this,” the Tungsten Titan shoved a slab of cardboard wrapped in plastic into Angus’ face.

  “What’s this then?” he snatched it from Norman’s hands and read aloud. “’Li’l Warrior’s Toy Axe Weapon Kit. By Murf. Ages 8 and up.’” He looked up at MMMM.

  “Are ye sayin’ Ah’m too short to be usin’ weapons intended for adults!”

  “No,” Norman said. “Look, I’m using the same thing.” He tore a Murf Li’l Warrior Toy Sword and Shield from its plastic cocoon.

  “What about the babble talkin’ village idiot over there?” Angus thumbed at Shiro.

  The mad berserk rush of pre-adolescents, alight on wings of material consumption, loomed ever-closer the same way an out of control freight train would. And the heroes were right in its tracks.

  Norman readied himself for battle. “There’s no time. Shiro, just pick something. But make sure it won’t hurt them.”

  “Hai!” The Tiny Typhoon dove into a nearby bargain bin and his little legs stuck out the top of it. He pulled out a Mr. Mysterium Magic User’s Kit.

  Angus spun his Murf Toy Battle Axe through an impressive series of moves and held it before him. “TASTE COLD IRON, YE GOBLINS!”

  “Angus. It’s just a foam axe.”

  “…Aye. Ah know.”

  __________

  Yet another Plazma Beam uselessly splashed off Safriel’s body. “Hm,” Nuklear Man reasoned.

  She jumped toward him in a flash of motion. Somewhere along the line she’d spun around and delivered a spinning kick against Nuklear Man’s jaw before landing. Nuklear Man spit dirt out of his mouth. He didn’t remember landing on the ground, but everything after the kick was a painful blur anyway. “This hardly seems fair, really,” he said in a strangely detached moment.

  “Shut up!” Safriel snapped, punctuating her sentiment with a swift kick to his temple.

  Now sprawled on his back, Nuklear Man could see Safriel leaning over him. Her body had an odd, slightly opaque, crystalline sort of appearance to it. “I wonder if that has anything to do with her apparent immunity to my energy based attacks,” he mused without actually acknowledging her presence.

  “Yes!” she yelled with an exasperated huff. “Don’t you remember when I was gloating about how I watched you battling the others and used my matter alteration powers to rearrange the atomic composition of my body to perfectly refract your energy based attacks?”

  Nuklear Man blinked and diverted his gaze from the birdie that had been flying far over head and looked right into Safriel’s multi-faceted eyes that were bearing down on him with all the weight of a mountain. “Oh. I’m sorry. Were you talking just then?”

  “Grah!” She grabbed at his collar and hauled him to his feet.

  “Oh, why thank you,” Nuklear Man said while dusting himself off. “It just wouldn’t do for me to stay all dirty like that. I’ve got to look good for the cameras, you know.”

  Safriel was clawing her face and growling in frustration.

  Nuklear Man looked around. “Speaking of which, where are all the cameras anyway? The news people usually make it to these things before the cops or anybody like that. And now that I think about it, where are the cops and stuff too?”

  __________

  Meanwhile, at one of many “Checkpoints” set up by Überdyne at key locations along the perimeter of the fairly large section of downtown that had been decimated by Nuklear Man and Superion a month ago and was now having its wounds reopened by Metroville’s latest epic battle…

  “What do you mean we don’t have clearance into the area?” Erica Erikson asked Faceless Employee, one of the Überdyne Checkpoint Guards. “We’re the press. We can go anywhere.”

  Faceless held a clipboard. It was very official. Behind him was an Official: Road Block, several other Official: Personnel, and an Official: Überdyne Van.

  He turned to the first page in his clipboard. “Your equipment isn’t fit for entrance into the area. Nuklear Man is currently battling an entity or entities whose power or powers would have adverse effects with your electronics. Without the proper shielding, said equipment could become potentially hazardous to yourself and others. As such, Überdyne cannot, in good conscience, allow you passage.”

  “Fine. Harry.” Erika turned to her cameraman and handed over her microphone. “Here, I’ll go in myself.”

 
“Ahem,” Faceless said. He flipped over to the next sheet. “The full extent of these electrical disturbances is undetermined at this time. We have evidence that leads us to believe that exposure to the energy or energies being released by the entity or entities may pose a threat or threats to any complex system or systems that employ electricity. The human brain included. As such, Überdyne cannot, in good conscience, allow you passage.”

  “Well, thank you, Überdyne,” Erica said with a pinch of sarcasm.

  Faceless flipped to the third page. “And Überdyne thanks you.”

  Erica stared through Faceless for nearly a minute. “Just what gives you jokers the right to do this?”

  Another flip. “Rights of ownership. Überdyne owns ninety-five percent of the land upon which the current condition or conditions apply. It is our responsibility to do everything in our power to keep the populace at bay for the sake of their safety or safeties.”

  “What about the freedom of press?” Erica asked.

  Faceless leaned closer to her. “Trust us. We’re doing this for your own good.”

  __________

  The overhead lights kept flickering.

  “That’s really starting to annoy me,” Atomik Lad said.

  “It makes it hard to see far. I mean, it’s dark overall but since the lights keep flickering, your eyes never quite get used to it.”

  Atomik Lad squint into the darkness beyond them. “I think I see something moving up ahead.”

  “I should hope so. This is a mall in America. I’d hate to think there’s an hour of the day when one of these things isn’t packed.” And with that, the fair Rachel bumped right into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t see you there. It’s the lighting in here, you know.”

  The someone looked right at Rachel. “Connnnsuuuume,” he said in a mindless voice.

  His eyes were sallow, shallow, hollow, and apparently focused on something just over Rachel’s shoulder. In one hand, he held a wide-open wallet with its credit cards flopping out of it; in the other, a collection of shopping bags.

  “Must…buuuuy,” he told no one in particular.

  Rachel jumped closer to Atomik Lad who was subsequently bumped into another shopper. It was a younger woman. Her purse was dragging along as she slowly shuffled her sluggish legs. She was burdened by an array of bloated shopping bags.

  “Er, I’m sorry,” he apologized out of habit before getting a good look at her. At which point he could only say, “Gah! Get it away!”

  “Nnnng,” she responded. “Must justify latest fashions’ powers over me by buying into them.”

  Atomik Lad and Rachel were back-to-back. If they listened carefully, they could hear the shuffling movement and mindless babbling of the shoppers surrounding them in the darkness.

  “Trendy…must define self by trends.”

  “Conform…must not deviate from cliché media images.”

  “They’re like, I don’t know, like zombies,” Atomik Lad said.

  “Okay,” Rachel said. One of the consumer zombies bumped into her as it passed by without acknowledging her existence. “How do we get out of this?”

  “I have—oof, no idea,” Atomik Lad answered. The zombie population seemed to be steadily growing. “What the hell? Did someone open the bottle of Easily Influenced Morons or what?”

  Rachel squeezed closer to him. “Maybe. Look.” She pointed at the shops along their walkway.

  “What about them?”

  “Look. The Gorge, the Unlimited Limited Incorporated, Old Army, Ambercrappy and Blech.”

  “Oh, I get it. That explains their willingness to blindly consume and follow.”

  “The question now is how do we take advantage of this information,” Rachel grunted while trying to keep from being swept away. The flow of shopper-zombies was nearing a continuous rate and threatened to take them along like an irresistible undertow.

  __________

  “Ya-haha!” Angus cried out triumphantly. His foam axe was a blur of action cutting a swath through the flood of toy-crazed children.

  Norman swung his foam sword through wide arcs pushing aside two or three of the little monsters at a time.

  “How many hit points do ye think these buggers got?” Angus asked over the clamor of battle.

  “What’re you talking about?” Norman asked while shoving one child out of his way.

  “Ye know. Hit points. Like when ye drivin’. Ye get ten points for old people, twenty for bicyclers. Like that.”

  “Oh. Geez, I don’t know. Seems kinda morbid talking that way about kids. Yeowch!” Norman had to pry a pair of jaws and the child they were attached to from his forearm. “I’m tungsten, kid. You shouldn’t be able to hurt me that way.”

  The snarling beastling wriggled out of Norman’s grip and joined its throng.

  “Hey, where’s Shiro?”

  “Bah! That oaf. Probably joined these wee kiddies lookin’ for—Ya-ha! Lookin’ for that Super Action Guy Mega nonsense.”

  Shiro popped up atop one of the benches that was placed throughout the mall’s walkways. The goblin kids milled around underneath him. He wore a Mr. Mysterium purple pointy magician’s hat with sparkly stars and crescent moons adorning it and a Mr. Mysterium tuxedo jacket which, on the tiny warrior, was like an oversized robe. He held a Mr. Mysterium Book of Magic Instruction in one hand and waved the other around “Mysteriumly”. “Hai. Accountant the time. The me is now!”

  Angus spun around. “Get down here and fight! We still gots to get to the blasted Food Court Junction!”

  One of the feral child-beasts launched himself from the masses. He soared through the air straight at Angus’ back.

  Shiro’s eyes went wide. His hand dove into the mock tuxedo-robe and he chanted the magical spell exactly like Mr. Mysterium’s Book of Magic Instruction said. Or as close to it as Shiro would be likely to get. “Large in Age, are the interlockers that magic spirit time, when then they time gone—heavy with mystery!” He threw three thin interlocking rings that were painted gold into the air. They wrapped around Angus’ would-be assailant who promptly fell to the ground with his arms pinned uselessly to his sides.

  “Aye laddie!” Angus cheered. “Ah owes ye one!” He spun his foam axe and delivered a brutally harmless blow to another little monster with a resounding, “Aughk!” of a battlecry.

  Norman stumbled around. Over a dozen of the scrawny creatures had latched onto him. “I’m goin’ down!”

  “Blast these damned goblins!” Angus cursed as he hacked at the mob. “Ah can nay get to ye, laddie!”

  “Go on without me!” Norman said. “I’ll take out as many as I can!”

  “Norman-san!” Shiro’s hands dove into his robes. “Selector, the volunteering cards of fated to being!” Hundreds of playing cards flew from his sleeves. They rained down on Norman’s impish aggressors like a storm of locusts from an angry god. The monster children fell from the Tungsten Titan like autumn leaves. Norman stood up and was the very paragon of strength once more. “Thanks Shiro. That magic-user’s kit sure is handy.” He sputtered for a second and coughed out a Three of Clubs. “What the?”

  Shiro smiled wide as he pulled a card from under his magician’s hat. He turned it for Norman to see.

  “The Three of Clubs? Wow.”

  “Hai, but now the heavy with troubling dragons! Is me!” the Tiny Typhoon said as he tried, in vain, to beat away the hands dragging him down into the churning mass of devil children.

  “Protect the magician!” Angus roared.

  __________

  Variel was a mass of blackness that might have had all three dimensions to it. It was hard to tell by looking directly at him. The only discernible features in his dark form were his eyes by their complete lack of being like the rest of him. He was like a statue of nothing bearing down with all the weight of the unknown.

  Safriel’s crystalline body tumbled up to his feet. She coughed and stood up favoring her left leg. “Damn it,” she spat, speaki
ng half to herself and half to Variel. “He’s beating me to a pulp out here now. We’ve been fighting for so long,” she gasped for air. “I’m just worn out, but he hasn’t so much as broken a sweat. What’s he made of!”

  “The stars, child,” Variel answered with that negative voice that seemed to emanate from his entirety. “You could simply forfeit your turn. It is clear that you cannot win.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Var.”

  “You may be able to shield yourself from his fire, but there is nothing that can save you from his strength. You’d have to pull the very stars from the sky to defeat him.”

  Safriel fell silent. Directly in front of her, some distance away and slightly obscured from the dust clouds kicked up from their battle, was Nuklear Man. His golden cape flowed somewhat like a field of wheat on a windy day.

  He waved at her.

  “Grah! He’s just taunting me!” she growled. “I’ve got the power of all the permutations of matter at my finger tips, but I can’t do a thing against him!” She watched Nuklear Man’s Plazma Aura as it glinted off the dust and dirt swirling around him. “Or can I?”

  “Feel free to forfeit. There’s no shame in knowing one’s own limits.”

  “Shut up, Var.” Her face melted into a crystalline sneer. “I’ve got an idea.” Her crystallized body became more opaque, like its torso had been injected with a thick fog that slowly spread to her limbs. “I should’ve thought of this sooner!” She shot toward the Golden Guardian with renewed vigor.

  Variel smiled, though it was impossible to tell by looking at him.

  __________