by Ben Bequer
Dr. Retcon laughed and finished his coffee, placing the cup and saucer on the railing overlooking the pond.
“So proximity to you caused the mutations?”
“Oh, they’re not mutations, but yes, proximity is the key. See, that’s the key to the whole thing; at a certain point in your gestation, I was near enough to your mother that I affected the fetus in vitro, as it were. It’s still happening now, less so than where you were in your mama’s belly. Right now, I’m making you less normal. Or is it more? We never did come to that determination. Are we the freaks, or are we humans?”
He let the question linger a moment, his eyes set on me.
“I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?” I answered. “They exist, and we exist. And there has to be coexistence.”
Some time passed while he thought about that, then he dug into his chest pocket for a cigar, offering me one. I declined and he plopped it into his mouth.
“This next thing I need you to do for me,” he started, “I don’t expect it to be much trouble, but be ready, you hear?”
“I will. Is it safe to ask what all this hubbub is about?”
He smiled, biting on the cigar. “Maybe. I know it might all seem trivial now, but rest assured, the end game will be worth the wait. In particular, for you, Blackjack. You are my white knight.”
“So we’re playing the white side?”
He nodded and said, “This time.” He turned and took a few steps away.
I looked back and noticed the koi, now free of whatever Retcon was exuding, swam freely to reclaim the pond.
“You never said how Ed Watters was afflicted,” I said and he turned back to me, lighting his cigar with a match.
“He was my closest friend before the transformation.” Dr. Retcon finished lighting his cigar waved the match to kill the flame. He almost threw the match away, but stopped and smiled, placing it in his pocket.
“Ed’s story was the saddest, I’m afraid. But in a way, it was also the happiest. Does that make any sense?”
“I guess. No, not really.”
“Imagine being so powerful that the building blocks of matter are at your disposal. If you have ever read Revelations, Blackjack, put yourself in God’s shoes.” He paused, his eyes set upon me. “Now imagine doing nothing with it.”
Dr. Retcon let that linger in the air, taking a drag from his cigar and letting it out slowly.
“Though if you were to ask him, he’d tell you he’d do it all the same. He’d tell you he would’ve gone on to marry his wife, Teresa, and gone on to sell insurance all those years. That’s what he did, you know. I guess that’s what a good woman does to you,” he laughed. “You think that’s true, Blackjack? You think we’d be any different if we had met the right woman?”
“I don’t think so,” I said still looking at the koi fish. “A man is what he is. Life changes you some, but you are what you are. I think, anyway.”
“I’m counting on that,” he said
“How so?”
“In the end, I’m going to ask more from you than anyone has before.”
Retcon smiled and walked off.
* * *
Our next mission was to steal a book from the home of a retired super villain who I’d never heard of called Gentleman Shivvers. Dr. Walsh briefed us that Shivvers was once partners with Quantum Slayer (who everyone had heard of) until their partnership turned sour and he sold out Slayer to the authorities.
Shivvers had since retired and was living his last days in a cottage in the forests of Germany, hoping to be forgotten by history.
And he was, until tonight.
I felt uneasy about the whole thing. In part, because we had scarce intelligence about Shivvers and his powers so we had no idea what to expect. I also didn’t like that we were going in without Cool. He didn’t look like much, but those speed powers came in very handy last time.
But my real problem lay in the fact that I didn’t have a suit or gear. All I had was a few arrows scrounged after the fight in Los Angeles but no bow, and none of the gadgets I usually carried in my belt pouches, burned by Spitfire’s flaming powers. Making new arrows required a chemistry and engineering lab, with a forge and raw aluminum and titanium to make the shafts. Replacing the bow wasn’t as easy though. My old bow took a few months to complete, and that was using every trick in the book to speed up the process, which traditionally could take years. There were few who know the art of making them anymore, and I’d done research for months to discover the secrets of crafting an English Longbow.
Now I’d be stuck with whatever I could find off the shelf, with no time to make special tipped arrows, a balancing process that took me days for each. There was a fine balance in play when calibrating the arrow’s stiffness and the power of the bow. And even the stiffest arrow had the tendency to flex upon firing, from even the weakest bow. To fire accurately, an arrow had to have the proper stiffness to flex out of the bow and then return to a proper flight path once it had left the bow. This was known as the archer’s paradox. Once arrow and bow had been calibrated, and was used by a skilled archer, the whole thing became arbitrary.
Returning from the briefing, I found a bow case on my bed. I zipped the case open and pulled out the bow, a special edition Matthews Monster XLR8, painted matte black. I could see a few other modifications, including monkey trails on the Vectran/HMPE bowstring to eliminate string vibration and sound, a down force arrow rest to stabilize the arrow during the firing phase, a focus grip to maximize torque, top and bottom harmonic stabilizers to dampen residual vibration, and even a bowstring dead end stop that was supposed to further reduce vibration and noise. The bow also had a removable seven arrow quiver, which was the only part of this bow I actually liked.
Inside the case was also an arrow pull, several gloves, two quivers of carbon arrows and a box filled with aluminum/titanium broad head arrow points. I prepared several arrows and threw them into my belt arrow bag, then placed my remaining original arrows, including the Nuke, in the bow mounted web quiver.
Retcon’s people had also provided me with my usual clothes in my exact size, which was a miracle for a guy as big me. All that remained functional of my old suit after the L.A. fight were my boots, but they thought of everything else. They had even thought of the neoprene lower-face mask I usually wore and a black hooded cloak to finish the whole look.
No sooner was I done with the new suit that we got the call to head out.
Chapter 8
With Cool Hand Luke convalescing from his leg wound the whole trip was eerily silent. No one spoke after boarding the transport chopper and the only sound for hours was the whine of the helicopter turbines. My seat had only a few thin layers of thin aluminum sheeting between me and the engine, so I rested my head against the wall and tried to go to sleep. I noticed Influx leave her seat and move next to me, taking Cool’s usual spot. Without bothering to strap herself in, she leaned against me, and made as if she was going to sleep with me as her pillow.
“Too much sexual tension?” she asked softly. I shook my head and she went to sleep, leaning her heavenly body against my side.
“I may not sleep the whole trip,” I said, making her lift her head to look at me.
“Try not to move too much,” Influx said. “I’m working on a really nice dream.”
“Am I in it?”
She smiled, laying her hand on my thigh, then planted her head on my shoulder, adjusting it as one would on a pillow.
“You okay with the other thing?” Influx asked. I nodded, knowing she wasn’t even looking at me, but she let the matter lie.
“Get some sleep,” she mumbled.
But I didn’t. Not the whole trip from California across the United States, and then off the Eastern seaboard across the Atlantic towards Europe. We were at high altitude, flying at unearthly speeds, because the whole trip only took a few hours.
And the whole time, I could smell the wafting aroma of her perfume, the fragrance from her hair products. She on
ly stirred once, gazing into my eyes and giving me an “are we there yet?” look, but I shook my head.
“You make a good pillow,” she said and went back to sleep.
We arrived over Europe and soon, the wooded forests of Saxony in eastern Germany flew past. We were only a half-dozen miles north of Dresden, headed towards the small house where Gentleman Shivvers now hid. We were not far from Schloss Moritzburg, a 16th century Baroque castle. I regretted not having extra time to stop by there and take a look, but there was no time for sight-seeing, especially not at this late hour.
I woke Influx by touching her face. She inched up, so we were facing each other.
“Do I have morning breath?” she asked, but I chuckled nervously. Influx smiled and came closer, almost kissing me. I swallowed hard, in anticipation. “We’re going to have some fun, you and me.” Then she leaned back, and stood, glancing around the cabin. Across from us, Haha was waking Zundergrub who rested in a strangely erect meditative fashion.
I grabbed my bow from a rack above my head and stood, preparing for action.
“Did you get any sleep,” she asked as the helicopter dove out of the sky and began to land in an open clearing.
“Nope.”
She smiled at me and threw the side door open so Haha and Zundergrub could jump out of the chopper.
“I have a feeling you won’t get any sleep when we get back, either,” Influx said seductively and hopped down into the snow.
I followed and we all ran towards a wooded ridge that overlooked our target. It was a clear moonlit night, so we moved without lamps. Shivver’s home was a beautiful cottage, probably a hundred years old, with white walls, deeply angled tile roof and cherry wood shutters flanking every window. A row of tall pines stood behind the house, and a short, wide fir stood in the front, with a waist-high ‘fence’ of shrubbery on the house’s northern side facing us, and a two-car garage on the opposite end. The gravel and rock driveway was a long secluded mile to the closest street. From our vantage point, we could see smoke drifting lazily from the thin chimney on the north side of the house. The roof was covered with solar panels and poorly hidden security cameras covering all angles.
“An EMP arrow will knock out his security,” I said.
Influx shook her head, “And it’ll also warn him we’re coming. No, Dr. Zundergrub’s pets will have to do. Besides, we only need a few cameras disabled. Mr. Haha, think you can get into the house electronically?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Haha said and was silent, apparently trying to follow Influx’s instructions.
“Z, watch out for Haha, and watch our backs.” Influx looked at me, “let’s go.”
We ran down, leaving the other two behind, covering the distance between the forest ridgeline and the short wall of shrubbery between us and the cottage in a few minutes.
“How’s it going, Haha?” she asked into her comlink.
“Mr. Haha is in, of course,” I heard the rabbit robot reply into my earpiece. “WPA2 encrypted home network is like stealing candy from a kid. The vulnerability assessment phase was 2.35 seconds and I’m just-”
“Shut down any other security systems,” she interrupted.
“Already done. Sensor plates and IR scanners are down.”
“Good rabbit,” she said softly and ran towards a door at the rear of the house with me in tow. “Know how to pick a lock?”
“I can kick it in,” I whispered back, but she placed her glowing hand on the door, melting the handle and lock without making a sound. I opened the door and rushed in. We had the schematic layout, we knew the place backwards and forwards, and we quickly scoured the first floor clean before climbing to the second floor and into the study, where we expected Shivvers to be. The study was empty, but well lit by an oil lamp.
“If he’s smart,” Influx said guarding the door, “he’s hiding in his room upstairs. Come on.”
I turned and found the book instantly; in the middle of a desk atop some papers. It was a simple leather-bound tome, almost ancient, with the words “notes” on the cover and nothing else. It was exactly as the one in Dr. Retcon’s study. I flipped to the first page and saw it was a direct continuation from the first book.
This is what Retcon wanted, why we had come, but then why was it sitting on Shivver’s desk, unless he knew we were coming for it?
“Influx, be-” I started but he was on her before I could finish, before I could draw an arrow.
Gentleman Shivvers pulled himself out of Influx’s shadow, peeling like a black sticker off the wall. He came out of the shadow, solidifying as he slipped his blade across Influx’s throat with a swift flourish of the wrist. Blood fountained from of her neck, spraying onto my face and chest. She looked at me, pleading, trying to control the flow with her hands as she slowly slipped to her knees.
Shivvers looked almost eighty, but he was faster than anyone I had ever seen. He was on top of me in an instant, slashing at my neck. I brought my shoulder and elbow up in defense, and felt his blade bite deep into my left deltoid. He pushed me back with more strength than I gave his frail body credit for, and switched a backhand grip on his blade, stabbing upwards at my left flank. I brought my right knee up, twisting away and caught him by surprise. The clumsy blow caught his midsection, more a product of his closing speed than any strength I put into it, but he doubled over giving me a split second to act. I followed up with a right elbow to his face that threw him back towards the door. He smashed into the wood and crumpled to the ground, dropping the dagger as he flailed about. The deadly weapon was only a few feet in front of him, still within reach.
I had a second, a second, to compose myself and nock an arrow.
He stopped moving, crumpled on the remains of the doorway, his eyes never wavering from me.
“Heal yourself,” I shouted at Influx, but while her hand glowed at her neck, the power wasn’t working. Blood seeped through her fingers, and flowed out of her mouth and nose like a gusher. Her strength was quickly leaving her, and I could do nothing to help.
Across the room, Shivvers came to his feet. “The wounds from this dagger will not heal,” he said. “Not for a day.”
“Influx!” I shouted, pulling the arrow back, aiming it at Shivver’s chest.
He smiled, intoning each word slowly; “She is dead. And you are next.”
She gurgled my name, losing her fight to stem the blood flow that stained her chest and abdomen. Tears streamed her face as she realized that death was only a few moments away. The world fading to her, Influx doubled over.
“Motherfucker,” I drew the bow’s string back to its maximum tension. I didn’t know what to do. The only thing keeping Shivvers from picking up the dagger and attacking me was my bow and arrow, but I had to drop them if I intended to help Influx. I thought to fire, but he moved like a shadowy blur, and in an instant, he was back beside the door. He held up the dagger waving it with menace as it dripped her blood.
“Time to say goodbye,” he taunted, motioning to her and drawing my attention away from him momentarily.
Influx dropped prone to the floor in a pool of her own blood. Her legs twitched twice and then she was still. “Influx!”
“It’s inevitable,” Shivvers said, a fiendish smile crossing his face.
“This arrow has a nuclear payload,” I growled.
“You joke,” he scoffed, but his eyes were on the head of the arrow aimed at him. It was tipped by a bulbous and mechanical arrow head with a green LED light blinked every second.
I shook my head. “I let go and they’ll see the flames in downtown Dresden.”
“Why would you kill yourself? It makes no sense.”
His confusion gave him a moment’s pause, and that was my opportunity.
I fired.
The arrow caught him in the chest, above the heart, tearing into his aorta. Shivvers collapsed back and fell into the wall, clasping the arrow shaft sticking out of his chest.
The arrow head’s payload wasn’t the
Nuke, but a gas grenade. My massive strength, combined with the force of the modified bow powered the blunt arrow through his sternum so the gas payload never deployed. He looked up at me, confused that we weren’t bathing in a nuclear fire. A smile came over his face as he realized I had lied to him.
I ignored him as he faded, and moved over to Influx. Turning her over, I saw her pale face, lifeless eyes and the horrible bloody wound at her neck.
She was dead.
* * *
I left Shivvers’ house carrying Influx’s body, the stupid book jammed in my belt. Haha and Zundergrub had run to the house from their vantage point and came up to me.
“Dear God,” the doctor muttered upon seeing the gaping wound on her neck.
“Don’t say a fucking thing!” I yelled at Mr. Haha and placed her body gently on the snow. I took her lifeless wrist and unsnapped her comlink. “Dust off on our new location. Do you have me?”
“Roger that,” the pilot responded. “Reading your new location on GPS. Inbound in 2 minutes.”
“Just fucking hurry,” I roared and threw the comlink away.
Mr. Haha knelt next to her and placed his hands on her chest. His robotic hovering cameras and lights circled him like satellites, jousting each other for the best angle.
The rabbit-headed robot said, “In heavy mood their misery moaned they, their master’s death.”
“Stop that,” I said. “And turn those fucking things off before I break your fucking face off.”
“We should start a balefire” the robot continued, ignoring my threats. “To honor our fallen leader.”
“Do you have the item?” Dr. Zundergrub asked, ever to the point. I took the book from my waistband and threw it at his chest. He caught it and paged through it, not understanding what was in it.
“What happened?” he asked.
I shook my head and looked back to the house. “Mr. Haha, do you still have access to the network?”
“Indeed, I do.”
“Delete everything. Crash the whole fucking thing.”
“Answer me,” Zundergrub.
I stared him down. He was a small man, though next to me most men were, but he didn’t back down from my glare.