She smiled and wagged a finger to me, “Now, now, we’re not here to discuss old news. Go change and let’s talk about what you can do for me.”
Victoria had a brash confidence to her; and that had me getting out of my suit as quickly as possible, which still took about ten minutes—something I’d have to improve on in the next version.
• • •
“Cleaned up, I see,” she said while nibbling on a strawberry. “Please, sit. Do you like blueberries in your pancakes?”
“They’re okay,” I replied, taking the chair across from her and spearing a pair of flapjacks with a fork. “I’m really more of a chocolate chip kinda guy. So, if you don’t mind me being blunt, what exactly do you do and who do you do it for?”
“I guess the closest thing to a job description I have is I’m one part personal shopper and another part event planner. Big events, usually. As to the person I work for, let’s not get into that right now.”
It probably meant either General Devious or the Evil Overlord. Since Maxine was freed during that breakout, I was leaning toward the former.
She drank a glass of milk and reached for a bag. My appetite disappeared when she pulled out a pulse pistol. Fortunately, she set it on the table and it was safe to continue eating. “Do you recognize this?”
I picked it up. It was one of a set of three that I sold two months ago and not one of the ones that Max V had been using. “Of course, I built it.”
“Yes, you did. Of the three I bought, one was broken down by our group of engineers, the other was given to the head of development, and the third is in your hand. The engineering group was suitably impressed by your design.”
I smiled and thought, As well they should be. “What did your head of development say?”
“He said it was crude, uninspired, but functional.”
When I frowned, she said, “Coming from him, that’s actually a compliment.”
Oh, really! “What do you think?”
She held her hand out and I returned it to her. “I think I like it. This one I’m keeping.”
“The grip’s a little oversized,” I said. “I’ll measure your hand before I leave and get you a custom one for it.”
“Well, aren’t you the sweetest thing?”
“That’s usually not something people say to me,” I confessed.
“You should hang out with better people then, Calvin.”
“Maybe. So, you have an engineering team, and a head of development. Why do you need me?”
“Our head is a very busy man and he keeps getting redirected to various tasks. Since he and our engineers are, shall we say, occupied at the moment, I’ve been authorized to do some outsourcing to complete several initiatives that have fallen by the wayside.”
“Such as?”
“This,” Victoria said and reached into her bag handing me some schematics.
I unfurled them and studied the design. It was for a next generation pulse cannon, too heavy for a regular human to use. That meant either a synthmuscle suit mount or robot platform. Still, there were several problems that jumped out at me.
“It’s nice, but it won’t work,” I said after a minute.
“We already know that. We need you to make one that does work. Actually, we need you to make about two hundred that work.”
“Two hundred?” I’m sure my eyes were bulging. Holy Shit!
“Well, that’s our pilot program. We can negotiate more down the line. It’s a refit program for some of our older Type A robots, to bring them up to the cutting edge, or at least this decade. Promethia is sticking with their plasma weapons and stunners for now, but after seeing your work, our head of development dusted off this half-finished design and is giving it to you to work. He believes you might actually have the wherewithal to complete it and deliver a functional weapon.”
I caught the reference to some in her words. If they have more than two hundred robots, they basically have an army. Now, I was leaning more toward the Overlord instead of Devious. He had more robots.
“How many times does it need to fire?” I asked, trying to gauge their requirements.
“As many as possible, but no less than eight,” she answered.
Concentrating, I knew the expense of outfitting each one with a B powercell would be cost prohibitive, so that was out. However, if I used two of my power compressors daisy-chained together with one or two A cells there to keep them from losing charge, it might work. Sure, they’d have to be charged externally, but if expense is a problem, there has to be some give and take.
“Look at you!” Victoria said, pointing at me with her fork. “Already working on the problem. You’re such a geek!”
“Funny,” I deadpanned. “When do you need it?”
“How soon can you make the prototype?”
“Twelve weeks,” I replied.
My hostess smiled and said, “I’ll give you ten.”
“Rush jobs mean a twenty percent markup,” I countered.
“Oh, if I’m paying for a rush job, you’ll be done in eight and I’m only paying that ridiculous markup on the prototype. I won’t pay any more than a ten percent markup on the production run.”
This wasn’t like haggling with Maxine, where my life was being threatened. Victoria was smiling and having a grand old time. So I said, “You know you can pay fifteen.”
“Just like you know you can accept ten.”
“But that cuts into my bank robbing time,” I explained. “That’s easy money.”
“Until the feds sic a super team on your ass, then that well is going to dry up pretty quickly and this offer may not be around then. From what I’ve heard, the Gulf Coasters are already rooting around like pigs looking for truffles. How about we meet in the middle at twelve?”
I scratched my chin, enjoying the mental image of the Gulf Coast Porkers, and said, “The middle would be twelve and a half, but I’ll take it if I can call you Vicky.”
She almost choked on her pancake from laughing too hard before struggling to say, “I only let my friends call me that, but you drive a hard bargain. Twelve, you get to call me Vicky and I get to call you Cal...plus, you have to let me try out your armor.”
What? She’s going there! “Seriously? You want to test drive my armor?”
“But we’re friends now, Cal,” Victoria whined. “Besides, I know you’ll rig it with a kill switch. C’mon, what do you say?”
“I wouldn’t let my family into my armor, Vicky. I’m going to have to say no.”
She shook her head and offered, “Say ‘maybe’ instead, and we’ll negotiate it at a later time.”
“Fine, maybe,” I said.
“Then, it’s settled. Now, would you like to catch a show with me this evening? I always try to take in the sights when I’m out this way. It’s not Vegas, but it has a certain charm just the same.”
“Maybe,” I said with a grin. “I do have this hot project I should start on and the new boss is a real...”
“Careful, Cal, I have a rolodex full of hit men and assassins at my disposal.”
“...nice lady that I hope to impress.” I finished.
“Well played,” Vicky said and raised her glass of milk to me.
It was the start of one of the nicest days I’ve had since before I decided to quit Promethia.
Chapter Ten
A Familiar, Yet Unfamiliar Face
“I could be doing something else, you know?” I said, firing a burst from my force blasters.
The woman known as Eyelash dived behind the protection of the Dynamic Discus. His energy discs blocked most of attack, but some was absorbed, and the lanky man expertly hurled the two psionic constructs filled with my own power right back at me. One missed and the postal box behind me exploded. The other smacked into my shields. He created another set and jammed them onto studs on his wide belt. Smoke filled one and flame the other.
The old, where there’s smoke there’s fire, routine, I thought and dodged the flames. The smoke i
mpacted the ground between us and hid me from the pair of superhumans for the briefest moment.
Twin whips created by some form of telekinesis cleaved through the smoky barricade snapping out from the woman taking shelter behind “Double D.” Instead of just trying to beat on my shields, the cowboy-hat-wearing Gulf Coaster tried to ensnare me this time. Considering my mass and relative strength, it was a bad idea on her part. She was probably just trying to hold me long enough for her boyfriend there to hit me with some of his more potent discs. Then again, Eyelash wasn’t necessarily the brightest mind on that team.
One thing is certain; I wasn’t going to get the silly string filled ones that he uses when he visits kids at the hospital!
I let her plan happen and immediately triggered a three second burst from my jetpack, essentially jumping backward. My tactic caught her unprepared and dragged her right into the back of the man shielding her. I let out a small chuckle as the two went down in a heap, and sent a heavy taser pulse to keep them down for a couple of minutes.
Turning my attention away from the fallen pair of heroes, I saw She-Dozer and Spirit Staff were giving Bobby a fit, while above, EM Pulsive was duking it out with K-otica in a swirling mass of energy that my sensors told me would be a very bad idea to interrupt.
Eddie knows what he’s doing, I thought. This is his idea anyway. Better help Bobby!
Spirit Staff was an Oriental monk with some kind of magic, unbreakable staff. He turned aside Bobby’s force clubs with an ease that bordered on contempt. The legend around the man’s weapon was that it channeled the fighting talents of every warrior who had ever owned it. Though short, and with a slight build, he rained a veritable whirlwind of blows down on my buddy. It wasn’t hurting Bobby nearly as much as it was distracting him from his real problem—She-Dozer.
The woman matched his strength and looked like she trained extensively in Mixed Martial Arts. Bobby’s training regimen usually involved a case of beer and trying to burp the alphabet. Spirit Staff frustrated Bobby while the Amazon was really taking it to my partner in crime.
She-Dozer was about as invulnerable as my compadre and I put aside any reservations about fighting a woman and sent a burst at her. It knocked her about twenty feet away and gave Bobby a breather. The Staff repositioned himself to defend against both of us. I had hopes that my technology would be more than a match for his staff, but my next burst was deflected.
“Power levels at sixty-five percent,” the mechanical voice announced. “Shields at seventy-seven percent. Estimated flight time is twenty-six minutes and eight seconds.”
I ran through the numbers as Bobby recovered. The police had cordoned off the area, and that was the point. Seawall’s gang was launching a crime spree and we’d be clogging up the works and limiting the emergency response. Eddie’s plan was simple. The Guardians wanted both him and me and we were happy to oblige, knowing just how the police and the do-gooders would respond. Naturally, we knocked over a bank in the middle of the city. I wouldn’t have even come along, but Eddie called in his favor that he’d earned by introducing me to Vicky.
Give Eddie some credit; he likes to rob many places at the same time. Sure he’s a bit of a show off and a complete and utter tool, but he dreams big.
The only thing that hadn’t gone our way so far was K-otica’s unpredictable power level. She could be the most useless enemy you’d ever meet; about as effective as the almost-normal groundskeeper they employed who could make five copies of himself. Other days, you needed to run away from her as fast as humanly possible. Today, we were getting something close to the latter and K was giving EM Pulsive all he could handle and then some. Otherwise, we’d have already steamrolled these clowns. At her weakest, she throws around pretty colored lights like some kind of small scale special effects show. Today, her lights were concussive beams of pure power and she was able to use them to fly.
Truth be told, I was a little worried that she’d beat Eddie or he’d do a runner and I’d be left fighting her. Lining up a shot, I gave Eddie an assist. My full power burst chipped away at my remaining energy, but distracted her long enough for EM Pulsive to give her a full barrage and the Latina with rainbow colored hair plummeted to the ground, but got up just as quickly, looking angry.
Eddie was looking noticeably dimmer and that wasn’t a good sign.
I couldn’t offer any additional assistance. She-Dozer was back on her feet and charging me. I jumped to the left and fired both my blasters at her. The one that hit spun her around and sent her sprawling to the ground. I was smiling until she leapt up with a manhole cover in her hand and threw the thing at me like a damn Frisbee.
The heavy object broke through my shields and hit so hard that it shattered my chest mounted light and left a big dent in my front armor plating. The warbling Master Alarm activated.
Damn me for underestimating her! She’s stronger than my suit and can take as much punishment as she can give.
Bobby continued taking continued abuse from Spirit Staff and we needed to buy at least another five or ten minutes.
“Surrender Stringel and I won’t have to rip that armor off of you piece by piece!” Dozer threatened.
“Kiss my boil ridden ass, Dozer!” Technically, I do get an occasional bout of skin irritation when I stay inside the armor too long—another item I’d need to correct in the next design. Perhaps I was sharing too much.
The Gulf Coaster was a much better hand to hand fighter than I would ever be, so I boosted skyward just before she got close to me and sent a burst down on her.
It was slightly stronger than that kiss I’d offered her moments before. Swooping down, I grabbed one of those small metal dumpsters from an alley and lifted it up. I tossed it at Spirit Staff and mentally challenged him to block that.
He dodged instead, but Bobby staggered around and ripped the lid off the dumpster and caught Spirit Staff flatfooted as a result. The next owner of the staff might pick up something useful from that experience, but the present owner would need a few minutes and maybe some medical care to sort things out.
Unfortunately for us, Bobby’s attack and the subsequent injury to her bed warmer, sent K-otica over the edge and she took issue with all three of us villains and most anyone still upright on that city block.
“Shields under heavy assault! Sixty three perc...forty-nine percent.”
Bobby took a bad hit and the outburst had even winged She-Dozer. I wasn’t faring that well either. K-otica, all amped up on power, had a tendency to let that go to her head. In her place, it would probably piss me off too, knowing that you have that much energy inside of you, but only ever get to tap into it when fate smiles favorably in your direction. It would almost be worse than having no superpower at all.
I’d still trade; I thought and tried to get to the unconscious Bobby. Eddie had vanished and I couldn’t see him anywhere. Time to grab and go!
Another barrage sent me off course and into someone’s apartment. I crashed through the bedroom and out into the kitchen on the other side of the wall and found my shields at a measly twenty-one percent.
Not good! Not good!
I stumbled back toward the opening, but saw K-otica now standing on Bobby’s limp and bloody form looking back up at me with a half-crazed look on her face. She-Dozer was next to her, trying to calm her down. When the overpowered lunatic caught sight of me, she raised her hands and Dozer had to knock the other woman’s arms skyward. The burst of energy went to the heavens and I counted myself lucky for the interference. Maybe Dozer wasn’t so bad after all. I froze for a second while the two women struggled. Eyelash was already on her feet and so was Discus. Four against one was shitty odds and I didn’t see a way out of it that didn’t involve Bobby in custody.
“No!” She-Dozer shouted. “Calm down, Karina! You can’t destroy a building. Taiki will be okay!”
As much as it pained me to do it, I turned and ran through the apartment, into the hallway and out the other side of the window, triggering my jetpack.
With Eddie gone, and my shields about down to tissue paper, there was no way I could get Bobby. Flying away, I tried to justify it that Bobby was injured and they’d be obligated to take him to a doctor, but I still felt like a failure.
• • •
“I’ve seen the available news footage, Cal,” Vicky said. “It doesn’t look like you could’ve done much more than you did. EM Pulsive was in charge, and left both you and Bobby hanging out to dry.”
“Yeah,” I agreed with her. I could count the number of people I considered friends on one hand and one of them was in a hospital under armed guard and awaiting transport to the SuperMax.
“Besides, it’s like you said, he’s still in a coma and it’s not like there’s a supervillain hospital out there. Most tend to use a private doctor service. I could’ve gotten you in contact with one, but not on such short notice.”
After collecting my slightly larger than expected share of the multiple heists from an apologetic Eddie and telling him my rates would be double on his next job, I made it back to Alabama and stuffed the prototype I was working on and my other important gear in the van and drove to Vicky’s estate near Branson, Missouri.
Before leaving I gave two pulse pistols to Tweedledee and put him in guard mode. I started to give Dum one of Bobby’s spare forceclubs, but shut him down instead. There was no telling what that deranged robot would do if left alone.
“Thanks for putting me up these past couple of days,” I said. She came out for the weekend, but left me all alone there during the week. My armor was repaired and the prototype was nearing completion, right on time.
“I like your level of paranoia, even if it’s unwarranted,” she answered.
“Just because it’s illegal to use telepathic scans on a criminal to learn where his base is, doesn’t mean they wouldn’t do it on the side and just say that Bobby confessed.”
“True,” Vicky conceded and passed me a can of cola. “But, Bobby’s mind is impenetrable. Whatever gave him his powers, keeps out mind probes.”
Origins of a D-List Supervillain Page 15