Blackjack Villain

by Ben Bequer

  “Don’t make me go back there.”

  She shifted, moving her mouth closer to my ear.

  “What did you mean when you said for me to put myself in your shoes?”

  I turned around, so our faces were as close as ever. “Huh?”

  “When you were harassing me,” she said.

  “Oh,” I laughed. “Well, it hasn’t been easy to be a perfect gentleman, if you know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t know what you mean.”

  I stared into her eyes, lost for a second, before saying, “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. And the most beautiful.”

  Madelyne looked back at me, and for a moment, I thought she might inch forward and kiss me, but a second after, a pained look returned to her eyes, and she averted her gaze. It was the memory of Pulsewave, of everything I had done. It was too much to overlook, to get past so quickly. Maybe it was something to never get over. I faced forward, and she again rested her head on my back and shoulder.

  Ahead, was our way home. The shard we had landed at, which I had theorized was where the Lorentzian traversable wormhole lay. I wasn’t so much flying the manta, as much as hanging on to its back while it went where it wanted. But it somehow understood my wish to land and loped lazily towards the small shard. Swooping down, I saw the machine but of my companions, there was no sign.

  The manta slowed, coming as close to the ground as I guess it was going to.

  “We’re there,” I said and she leaned her head off my shoulder and for a second there, our faces were inches apart. Her eyes were red from exhaustion and mere slits. She flashed a pleasant, half-asleep smile. I twisted in the saddle, picking her up in my arms and slid off the manta’s ‘wing’, landing on the dusty shard. Bending down, I released her legs so she could stand.

  “Nice,” she said coming to her feet. “Like Tyrone Power or something.” Behind us, the now rider-less manta took off, headed back to the citadel.

  I wanted to have a whole conversation about my favorite Tyrone Power movie, versus hers, to discover if she was a movie nut like me. There was so much about her I still wanted to know, but there was no time. There was no way to tell if we were followed, if the Lightbringer herself would come after us, enraged by our escape. Or did it even care? Would something so powerful worry or care about anything we did?

  We rushed to the machine, Apogee jogging behind me half-heartedly.

  It looked pristine, save a fine layer of dust and the two rocket launcher things Mr. Haha had attached to the back of the device. On the cradle were the remnants of the red crystal, shriveled and consumed, now milky white with a tiny core of faint pink.

  “That’s what I was worried about,” I said, turning away in frustration, watching the manta ray fly off into the distance.

  “What about this?” she said, looking around the side of the device, holding up another crystal. This one was red and new, freshly cut from the raw gem I had given Mr. Haha.

  “I guess he cut one for us in case,” I said, humbled by the robot’s kind gesture.

  Madelyne motioned to place the crystal to the cradle, as if asking for my permission and I nodded. She removed the remnants of the old one, discarding it and placed the new one on the cradle.

  Like on Nostromo’s moon base, when the contacts were all extended and engaged, the machine came to life, lightning swirling between the coils, and surging through the crystal.

  “I guess it’s working,” she said as the energy engulfed us, transporting us through space and time.

  Part Five

  THE ARROW FALLS

  Chapter 23

  We appeared over a big dark nothing and for a second there, I was afraid the machine had teleported us into the depths of space, where death would be only a few suffocating moments away.

  But I knew we were safe when gravity yanked us downwards, some large body emitting the most basic of physical forces against us. Just as important, oxygenated air filled my lungs, and I had brief a moment to be grateful before my fall ended abruptly in a hard crash, and immersion into a rolling, body of water. My momentum bled away, but the tide took over, pulling me head over heels, crossing me up before I had a chance to get my bearings. Bubbles escaped my lips and my lungs burned, but the darkness was all-encompassing, I couldn’t tell which way was up. The dream flooded my mind again, commiserating with influx’s ghost, my idiot teammates hovering over my corpse. The panic was disintegrating, and I was on the verge of picking a direction and swimming when I saw the purplish glow. I didn’t have a second to react before I broke the surface, my lungs ripping like Velcro, invaded by oxygen.

  Apogee’s purple gloved glowing fist lit us, her arm looped under my armpit, treading water for both of us. I gave her a nod, and she let go leaving me to scissor kick on my own. She spun quickly on her spot doing a cursory recon. I did the same, seeing nothing but ocean in all directions, no lights on the water. The tide took control again, intent on pulling us apart, and we had to double our efforts treading water to keep within arm’s reach.

  “Great!” she shouted in frustration. “We go from bad to worse.”

  “How do you know its worse?”

  “This could be some water planet they sent us to. Did you ever think of that? That machine they had was there to get rid of pesky people like us. Drop them on a water planet where some big fucking whale eats us.”

  I laughed.

  “It’s not funny, damn it!” she spat and splashed water at me.

  But I knew we were safe, even though I didn’t understand why we hadn’t appeared back at Nostromo’s base on the moon. The answer probably had something to do with the set of coordinates that Retcon gave me. I remembered something Haha said before we ported to Shard World. He said the coordinates on Earth corresponded “to an area in the middle of the Sea of Okhotsk, west of the Kamchatka Peninsula in the Russian Far East.” Somehow the wormhole was tied to that series of coordinates, or some interstellar lay line matching this same spot on Earth, the moon and the floating island on Shard World.

  I floated on my back and looked up at the clear night sky, studying the stars. I knew where we were, I was sure of it, but I wanted some sort of verification. With my watch computer this whole thing would have been arbitrary, get a GPS reading and we were set, but the watch was gone, my bow and uniform were also history. The stars and constellations above were in different order than I was familiar to, and while I gave that some thought, my mind drifted.

  I wondered what was next. We were amongst a select few, who had seen an entire alien civilization, a powerful species that was perhaps the oldest and most powerful in the known universe. But I had seen them up close, and I was unimpressed. Their world had fallen to ruin, their civilization dwindled, yet their only concern was to amass other worlds, destroy other people’s homes, and steal pieces of their planets to add to their menagerie. They did it simply because they could, to show their greatness over others. I could only imagine what happened to the worlds they left behind, stripped of a continent, the planet collapsing on itself. Only those the aliens brought with them would live, the others destined to a horrible death by noxious gas, and tectonic cataclysm.

  Zundergrub was right about the alien on Callisto. It was watching us, and there could only be one reason; we were next. That’s what Dr. Retcon wanted us to see, that’s why we went to Shard World. But now what? I couldn’t even stand in the presence of one of those things, much less fight it. How could we stop them when they decided to gather the shard of Earth? I had so many unanswered questions, but for now, we had to survive, and that depended on my identifying the constellations in the night sky.

  “What are you doing?” she asked impatiently.

  “See that?” I answered, pointing at the sky. “That’s Sagittarius. There’s Libra and Ursa Minor and Major.”

  “You think you can find where our way home based on the stars?”

  “I think so. There’s the moon, and right there you can barely see Mercury. That’s Venu
s, of course.”

  “So where are we?”

  “I think the Sea of Okhotsk, off the coast of the Kamchatka Peninsula.”

  I saw her face riddled with confusion.

  “The Pacific Ocean. Earth, baby. We made it back.”

  “Good. Which way home?”

  “That way,” I pointed to what I thought was East.

  She grabbed my arm, engaged her power to swim at unreal speeds and we raced off.

  * * *

  After a bit of trial and error, and some strong kicks in my chest and abdomen, we decided that breast stroke as the most efficient for her, and least painful for me.

  I wrapped my arms around her waist and leaned against her back, while she tore through the waves. It was dizzying, watching the seas race by, mostly obscured by the sea spray. I closed my eyes and settled to the bouncing rhythm of her body as she carried me to safety.

  It was inevitable, I guess, that I would fall asleep, despite the bumping of her buttocks against my stomach, and the constant crashing we felt when she broke a tall wave and dove down into it. But the motion was so repetitive, and so fast, and so droning, and was I so tired from our journey that I slept better than I had in years.

  * * *

  “There, we made it,” she proclaimed, as we raced towards the lights of civilization. Apogee dug her head into the water and powered us closer.

  She slowed, nearing the beach, and I released my grip, swimming the last few dozen yards to the shore, and pulling myself on the beach. I collapsed on the sandy shore, gripping the land and kissing it, as the waves slowly lapped up my form. Back home at last. I swore to myself that I would never leave this planet of my own accord.

  “You can’t tell me you are tired,” Apogee said, standing over me, her breath labored. She sat on the shore and leaned back; rubbing her aching leg muscles and gazing out into the ocean we had crossed.

  “Think I’d get a medal for that swim?”

  I laughed and knelt beside her.

  “Where’d you bring us?”

  “San Diego. I think. I have a place here,” She said, rubbing her aching legs.

  “Are you going to be ok?”

  “I’m cramping up, but I should be alright.”

  “Thanks for swimming me out here,” I said, drawing a smile from her moonlit face.

  “Thanks for bringing me back to Earth.”

  I came to my feet. “Well it was the least I could do,” I said offering her my hand, and helping her up. “After all, it was my fault we were stuck out there.”

  We walked through the streets at three in the morning. Apogee in what was left of her costume, wrapped in my trench coat to protect her from the bitter cold and I was dressed in the ragged, dirty remains of my clothes. No one bothered us, and if they cared to look, we had the appearance of a tall pair of hobos.

  I couldn’t help but remember our flight from New York City after the fight with the Superb Seven.

  Her apartment was a fancy place, not so far from the beach in a neighborhood called Hillcrest that had wide palisade-like streets and medians with palm trees parting the streets. I’m sure it was a beautiful place, but at 3 am, I couldn’t care much about the decorations. We reached the apartment, and the hardest part of our trip began, up the long slope upwards of the parking entrance. I could feel every muscle complain, but I remained quiet, knowing that Apogee had carried the greater burden tonight. She was woozy, almost delirious, and her step faltered as her legs continued to cramp. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and helped the rest of the way. She didn’t object, and I held her close.

  A security guard came forward with a 9mm pistol drawn, but held down. He came to a stop when he saw us and was about to object when Apogee released herself from my grasp and threw her hair back.

  “It’s ok, Francisco. It’s me.”

  Francisco was aghast, recognizing her and realizing that something was very wrong. She no longer wore her face mask, and her outfit was long gone, but her hair was disheveled, saltwater dried by the breeze and her face bore the bruises of the previous day’s fight.

  “Miss Hughes?” He began. “Oh, my God, do you want me to call the police?”

  “No. Please don’t. I’m going to my room with my friend here.”

  Francisco holstered his weapon and she was in my arms again and I carried her on.

  “You sure you’re ok?”

  Apogee nodded. “Can you ask Emilio if he can turn on the water in my unit please?”

  “I’ll go do it myself,” he snapped and ran off, then stopped. “I’m sorry you have no power up there, you know.”

  “I know, Francisco,” she said softly, her voice drifting off. “I forgot to call. But if you can turn on the water that would be great.”

  We entered the elevator and she punched the penthouse.

  “Miss Hughes, huh?”

  “Means I’m not married.”

  “I gathered that. Love the place,” I said.

  “I’m barely ever here. Are you looking to get married?”

  “Not really. I’d probably breed super villain kids, no?” I laughed. “Although, I was thinking I’ve been doing this all wrong.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Well, Atmo was driving a Bugatti, you’ve got this pad. I should have gone the hero route.”

  She smiled. “Sure, the hours are great. Money’s good. But the best part is you don’t have to run all over the world stealing bits of dusty junk for some deranged lunatic.”

  “Actually,” I interceded. “The money was quite good.”

  “Not as good as hero work,” she scoffed. “And you don’t have to hide out from the law.”

  “Just your arch enemies,” I said, and I instantly realized I had touched a sore nerve. She said nothing for a while as the elevator rose up to the penthouse.

  “That what we are?” she asked, and I could feel her eyes boring into me.

  “I hope not.”

  “So what are we?”

  I looked up at the numbers flashing by as we rose. “I should hope by now you’ve started to trust me a little bit.”

  Apogee released from me and leaned her side on the wall of the elevator.

  “I’ve shown you were I live,” she started. “You know my full name. You know about my mother. I’ve trusted you with more than you know.”

  “It sometimes doesn’t feel that way.”

  “I have family to protect, Blackjack.”

  “If you’re afraid I’ll do something-”

  Apogee laughed.

  “Oh, I would have left you on Shard World if I was worried about you.”

  “So what are you worried about?”

  She shook her head.

  “I hope that all of this is worth something in the end,” Apogee said, her tone laced with a delicate edge

  The elevator reached the floor and the doors slid open, revealing a finely decorated hall, with a large mirror before us. We both came out of the elevator and caught a good horrified look at ourselves.

  All my clothes were a shade of dark gray or black. Everything was ripped, soaked and discolored. My face was haggard and gaunt, uneven patches of facial hair covering my cheeks and chin and my black hair was pasty and oily, like a skull cap of matted hair.

  Apogee’s dress was shredded, no longer blue-white but some hollowed shade of grey, and far more revealing than she would normally care for. Her hair was a disaster, a tangled and hopeless mess; her face was laced with bruises and scratches. One eye was still red from burst blood vessels. No wonder the few people on the street had fled from us.

  “Oh, look. It’s Mister and Mrs. Horrible,” she said, referring to our haggard reflections before grabbing my arm and leading me to the doors to her penthouse.

  Inside we had sliver of moonlight filtering in from the large sliding glass door that led to a balcony beyond. It was enough to keep me from tripping over all her wares, which were a combination of Restoration Hardware and Pottery Barn, almost as if from a cata
logue photo. The whole place was pristine and untouched, though it was a bit musty from having no circulation. She walked across the room and opened the sliding glass door, letting in a sea breeze that quickly cleared out the apartment.

  “No power,” she said, fumbling through the bottom drawer in her china buffet to find some candles that she one by one set all over the room.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.

  “I only have one,” Apogee said. “Want to go first?”

  “We can always share,” I chuckled.

  “I’ll go first,” she replied, ignoring my nervous attempt at humor. “Don’t touch anything. And don’t sit on anything.”

  She left me alone in the living room to shower, and I instinctively went out to the balcony. We were nine stories up, but the view was marvelous, as the building was a top a rocky bluff that overlooked the ocean. I thought of our swim across the entire Pacific with me attached like a remora on a hammerhead shark.

  I walked around the apartment saw a few pictures, barely discernible in the faint light, but one drew my attention. It was of Madelyne and a man, standing close together, a large 8”x10” photo, with both dressed for a black tie event. She looked fantastic, in a long red a satin V-neck a-line gown with bow and ruffle underbust detail, that accented her figure while understating her ample bust line. I took the picture outside to get a better look in the night light.

  Apogee had some wooden deck chairs with cushioned covers in her balcony, evidently to soak in the sun in the late California afternoon. I took off the cushion (to avoid staining it with my dirty form), and lay down on the reclining chair, studying the picture.

  It was a casual shot, taken when they didn’t even realize they were being photographed. They were both standing at the edge of a dance floor, watching others, and in fact, the picture was partially shot through a crowd, with a few blurry figures in the foreground. The guy was tall but a bit skinny with a hipster mop of black hair and a pleasant face. He was in the middle of telling her a something, his face cracking with a smile, and Madelyne was in full laughter. She clutched his arm at the bicep and he leaned into her, too close to be mere friends. There was a familiarity to their pose and non-verbal behavior that gave him away as more than that. The picture was also too large to be for a casual acquaintance, and the frame too fancy, full weight sterling silver.