by Adam Oster
Arthur stood and looked to the projection booth. “That's enough, D.A.W.N., I don't think he's ready for the rest of that strip yet.”
The lights turned on and the screen went dark. Buddy stared.
“I understand this is a lot to take in, Mr. Jackson--”
“So, is this supposed to be some movie you're making or something? Hasn't the whole superhero thing been done to death already?”
“Mr. Jackson, this is not a movie, this is--”
“I definitely have to give you kudos for finding such a great look-alike. I'm not really sure why you would want someone who looks like me though. I'd have to imagine you could find someone much more attractive and famous.”
“Mr. Jackson, surely you must understand what you have just seen on the screen is not fiction, but fact.”
“Fact? You're putting me in the middle of a comic book and you want me to believe it actually happened? Don't you think I would remember throwing a truck fifty feet?”
“But don't you remember, Mr. Jackson?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. “Some people dream of flying, or of walking through walls, or of falling from a great height and surviving without a scratch. Have you not, Mr. Jackson, had dreams in which you have exhibited similar feats of super-human strength?”
“Dreams? Do you realize you're the second person today who wanted to talk about my dreams? I feel like I'm back in therapy.”
“Such dreams are not merely a fictional reality created by your subconscious, they are your mind remembering a past that has been taken from you. It is your soul trying to bring itself back from the void it was placed in.”
“Now you've lost me, Arthur.”
“Perhaps I could be able to simplify it. The images you just viewed on the screen were indeed real. The man you saw raining fire from the sky was a man you have battled many times in your life. His name is Damon Memphis. The man at your side in the film is the same man you visited in the hospital earlier today. His name, Zero Hamilton. And the destruction caused by those battles, as well as countless similar battles, resulted in the deaths of several hundreds of thousands of individuals over the years. As you can imagine, people were very grateful for your assistance in taking down threats such as Damon Memphis, but the death toll from your battles brought the governments of the world to a drastic conclusion.”
“Right, the conspiracy stuff again.”
“You are correct, Mr. Jackson. All of the world's major governments concluded in unison to conspire for a mutual purpose. They held a series of summits regarding how to react to the super-hero menace. What resulted from those meetings of the world's leaders was a device capable of removing and re-creating memories on a world-wide scale. The memory loss you experienced at the hospital earlier today was a similar process. With this device, they were able to effectively erase people with superhuman abilities from the world's consciousness, thereby relegating their existence to the fictional literature still around today.”
“Okay, so, let's say I buy in to this whole concept. Even if they did somehow erase my memory, shouldn't I still be really strong or whatever? I mean, I'm not exactly a weakling, but there's no chance I'd be able to toss a truck up in the air like that.”
“That was the most devious requirement of the device utilized to rewrite the annals of mankind. In erasing the memories of your history and writing over them with those fables of boxing, they found a way to rewire your brain and effectively remove its connection to the functions necessary for performing such feats of excellence. My knowledge of the science behind the effect is lacking, however it has been explained to me that they infected you with a manufactured form of Alzheimer's Disease which, through its changing of your memories, actually causes you to forget how to perform simple physical functions, much like how some people who suffer from Alzheimer's can actually forget how to walk.”
“You realize how ridiculous this all sounds, don't you?”
“Perhaps. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, as they say.”
“Yeah, whatever. So, you still haven't explained why you are able to remember all this stuff.”
“Ah, Mr. Jackson, now you've approached the appropriate question.” Arthur spoke with a twinkle in his eye. “You see, Sal Credenza was a man who had the power to foresee the future. He had seen the government's plans and jumped into action. He came to me and we utilized my network of resources to create something brilliant. We called it the Mind Shield.”
“Tin foil hats, or aluminum?”
“Well, the concept was not all that different from the foil hats of conspiracy theory fame, but this device was a tad more complicated. It created an opposing wavelength to the device the government was using. In order to be protected from the mind-wiping device, all one would have to do was to be in the vicinity of the Mind Shield device.”
“Are you listening to yourself?”
“And, Mr. Jackson, to be completely honest, it is fairly irrelevant at the moment. You see, although we could protect ourselves from the actions of the device, we have yet to be able to develop a cure for those who were affected.”
“What about the drug you shot me up with after I got back from the hospital? That seemed to do a pretty good job.”
“Yes and it works well with someone who has only recently been reformed by a memory alteration, but not at all if that short window of time has passed.”
“So, you mean you can't give me back these memories you're saying I should have?”
“That is correct.”
“Then why in the hell are you telling me all of this?”
“Because, Mr. Jackson, there have been events set in motion that may require your specific talents to reverse. Our planet is quite possibly on the verge of catastrophic disaster. The return of your friend Zero Hamilton is yet another sign in that direction.”
“You mean that dude at the hospital? Wait a second, I remember now, that guy tossed a plate of food across the room without touching it!”
“Yes, he exhibits an ability known as telekinesis. It is the ability to create kinetic energy through thought. A rather amazing feat I must admit, not to say your abilities are any less amazing, of course. Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, I would love to help you return to your previous strength. Since time is of the essence, I hope you don't mind if we cease these pleasantries and immediately start moving toward getting you back in working order.”
“Wait, are you trying to tell me that you can make me super-strong?”
“That is what I'm trying to relay, yes.”
“So, like, leaping tall buildings?”
“That is one of the many things you were known for, Mr. Jackson.”
“I still think you're an entire can of nuts, but if you actually think you can give me super-powers, I'm not sure how I can turn you down.”
“Well then, why don't we go downstairs and see what we can do about that.” Arthur led Buddy out of the theater and into the lounge area. They walked to the elevator, entered, and Arthur pressed the black button.
CHAPTER 11
The elevator made a dinging noise to state it had arrived at its destination. The doors opened and Arthur stepped out, gesturing to the room in front of them.
“Welcome to the barracks, Mr. Jackson. This is the real heart of the operation.” Buddy stepped out and saw what looked like an over-sized gymnasium.
The exercise he saw before him was like nothing he had ever seen before. There was a group of men playing basketball in mid-air, never touching the ground. There was a boxing match where the two opponents stood at opposite ends of the ring flinging lightning bolts at each other. There was a man at one of the weight benches bench-pressing a Cadillac. Hundreds of men and women were exhibiting abilities well beyond that of any mere mortal man. Buddy was unable to comprehend everything occurring before him. He was so preoccupied with the scene, he didn't notice he and Arthur had been joined by three very imposing men.
“Mr. Jackson, I'd like you to meet a couple assoc
iates of mine. You have, of course already become acquainted with my son, Jeffrey.”
“Yeah, we've met,” Buddy responded quietly, barely able to take his eyes off the action of the room. Jeff scowled at him.
“These other two gentlemen are Mr. Smith and Mr. Frederick. Their primary function within the organization is to be my personal bodyguards for whenever I leave the complex. However since, as you are no doubt aware, I don't leave this building very frequently, they generally spend a great deal of their time down here in the barracks leading the training exercises.” The men Arthur gestured to were two very muscular men who, like Jeff, towered over Buddy. They both wore the same black suits and earpieces everyone else in the building wore.
“Hey there,” Buddy said as he nervously reached out his hand to greet them.
“It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Smith said, accepting the handshake.
“A great honor, sir,” Mr. Frederick agreed.
“There will be more time for the three of you to get acquainted in the future, I'm certain, however right now we are running a rather tight schedule. Perhaps we could work out a few moments for you to give Mr. Jackson a tour of the barracks after the dust of our current situation has settled.”
“That would be great, Mr. Flores,” Mr. Smith said.
“It sure would,” Mr. Frederick agreed.
“Now, Mr. Jackson, if you would please follow me, we must meet up with Carl in the lab. He should be awaiting our arrival.” Arthur led the way. They went left from the elevator and followed the wall until they came to a hallway leading out of the main room. They walked down the hallway.
As opposed to the rest of the building Buddy had seen so far, the decoration of this area was much more subtle, if it could be considered to exist at all. In place of extravagance was only simplicity. The walls were merely concrete blocks. Where on the other floors there was an exuberance of color, here was gray. Arthur came to the third door on the right and knocked twice. He opened the door and the group entered.
Arthur turned and spoke to Mr. Frederick and Mr. Smith softly. “Why don't you two stay outside for the moment. I sincerely hope we won't require your services.” The two exited the room and Arthur shut the door.
The room they entered was filled with all sorts of gadgetry and electronic equipment. The walls were covered with wires and blinking lights and the air sang with the sounds of equipment beeping and whirring. In the far right corner of the room sat a metallic chair. Draped across the chair were several sets of electrode cables and a conical device. Typing rapidly on a computer console next to the chair was a small and spindly man wearing a white lab coat. He didn't notice them enter.
“Carl, have you prepared the device for Mr. Jackson yet?” The man in the corner of the room jumped at the sound of Arthur's voice.
“Oh, Father, I didn't hear you come in. You made it just in time.” Carl walked toward the group, his attention focused on Buddy. “Is this him? Is this really the infamous Buddy Jackson?”
“Buddy, I'd like you to meet my other son, Carl. If it weren't for him, I don't believe my empire would be anywhere near as great as it is today.”
“You mean if it weren't for Carl and me, right Daddy?,” Jeff whined.
“Don't embarrass yourself, Jeffrey,” Arthur said, brushing the brute to the side.
“Don't let him fool you,” Jeff whispered to Buddy, “I'm just as important as Carl. Don't forget it.”
“Jeffrey!” Arthur reprimanded Jeff, then turned to Carl. “So, Carl, is the device ready for Mr. Jackson?”
“Yes, Father, it should be back online now. All functions appear to be operational once again. Things should work much better than they did with the last patient. Although, I really haven't had the time to test the machine fully, you know, with all the additions I've made.”
“Do you believe the risks are great enough for us to require delaying the process?”
“Risks?” Buddy asked.
“The risks should be relatively minimal at this point, Father, but they do exist. If we had the time, I would suggest we wait, but--”
“Hey, we can wait,“ Buddy interjected. “If there's any sort of risks, we can wait all year if we need to.”
“Mr. Jackson, it is imperative we do not delay any longer in resurrecting your abilities. Please, place yourself within the device.”
“Look, you've told me some great stories and all and I'm really happy for the souvenirs you folks made for my tour of the place and everything, but there's no chance I'm stepping into that thing.”
“Come on, Daddy,” Jeff smirked, “he doesn't need to do it if he's too scared. We don't need him anyways. I can take his place.”
“Jeffrey, don't be silly. You know Mr. Jackson is of extreme importance.”
“Don't worry Buddy, if the chair doesn't work, the worst thing that could happen is for you to experience a mild and temporary case of amnesia,” Carl reassured.
“Mild amnesia? You're already telling me I've forgotten my entire life and now you're saying you could take away my real memories? Forget it.”
The door swung open and Alexa burst into the room.
“You boys should really leave a girl a note when you go traipsing around the complex. I may be fast, but it takes even me a while to search this place.”
“Well, you could ask D.A.W.N.--” Carl began.
“Ms. Rose, you really should control yourself. It is generally not considered good mannered to enter a room so abruptly. You seem to have been forgetting such etiquette as of late.”
“Sorry, Artie, but we've got even more big trouble. Way bigger than before. Duffy's goons are onto me. I'm not sure how, but the second I went to the hospital, they appeared in front of me from out of nowhere. I started running, but everywhere I went they followed me. I've never seen anyone able to keep up with me like that.”
“Drat, I was afraid this might happen. It appears they captured your bio-rhythm signature when you entered the hospital earlier today. Once they have obtained that, they can find you almost anywhere.”
“Almost?” Buddy asked.
“Yes, outside of this complex, there are only a handful of other places in the world able to block their bio-rhythm device. As long as you are within the confines of this building, you should be safe.”
“Right. Safe.”
“On that note, Mr. Jackson, when you were talking to those government officials earlier today, were either of them wearing a device of some sort, perhaps something that looked similar to a wristwatch?”
“Yeah, I remember one of them had one that kept blinking. Thought it looked weird, but I try not to judge.”
“Just as I thought. The device is specifically tuned to seek out those who have the biological rhythm standard with those of abilities such as our own. It was originally used to seek out and gather all of those individuals who were still active after the Great Mind Wipe. We lost a great many people to that device. It's safe to assume they have your rhythm on file as well now, Mr. Jackson. So, for the time being, I think we'll have to keep you confined within the complex.”
“That's where you're wrong. I'm not staying anywhere, especially not if that chair over there is a part of it.”
“D.A.W.N., could you please gather Mr. Fredrick and Mr. Smith, so they may assist Mr. Jackson in preparing for his procedure?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I'm dreadfully sorry I have to do this Mr. Jackson, but with this new information, it is most certainly past the time for pleasantries.”
Mr. Frederick and Mr. Smith entered the room.
“Mr. Jackson, I'm going to have to ask you to place yourself within the chair,” Mr. Smith insisted.
“Yes, please sit in the chair,” Mr. Frederick agreed.
“Oh, come on,” Buddy pleaded, “you can't just bring in the big guns and force this kinda crap on me, can you?”
“I would really hate to have to force you to do anything,” Mr. Smith said.
“Yeah, we
really are big fans of yours,” Mr. Frederick agreed.
“Great, then we're agreed. How about you two direct me back to the elevator then?”
“Mr. Jackson,” Arthur began, “these two are indebted to me and will do whatever I wish of them. Your attempts to circumvent that will end in vain.”
“Yeah, sure, but I'm the big important Buddy Jackson, or whatever, right? Surely that means more than whatever Arthur does,” Buddy said, backing away as the two large men advanced on his position. His voice sounded anxious.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Smith said.
“Mr. Flores is right, we owe him everything,” Mr. Frederick continued.
“I really hate to have to do this,” Mr. Smith said as he grabbed Buddy's arm. Buddy flailed in an attempt to release himself form the man's vice-grip as Mr. Frederick wrapped his hand around Buddy's other arm. The two began dragging Buddy toward the chair in silence.
Jeff joined the two as they pushed Buddy into the chair, shoving Buddy's head back as he placed the conical device onto his victim. A devious smile stretched across Jeff's face.
“I really am sorry, Mr. Jackson. It really was a pleasure getting to meet you,” Mr. Smith said.
“I hope we can forget all about this later,” Mr. Frederick continued.
The men held Buddy down as Jeff tightened the straps around his arms and legs.
“Look at the legendary Buddy Hero now,” Jeff said sneeringly.
“Jeffrey, there is no need to be snarky,” Arthur reprimanded. “Thank you gentlemen. I understand how difficult that must have been for you. Now, Ms. Rose, do you believe you could extract Mr. Hamilton and return him here without any complications? We can wait no longer to bring him in. With Sergeant Duff now searching for us, it is only a matter of time before they use Mr. Hamilton as a trap or to push us into a corner.”
“Artie, I'll be there and back before they even realize he's gone.”
“Perfect.” Alexa disappeared in a great wind. The door slammed behind her. “Now, Carl, turn on the device.”
“Who do you think you are?” Buddy yelled as Carl pressed several buttons on the console next to the chair. “You can't do this kinda crap anymore. If this stupid machine works the way you say it will, I'll kick all of your--” Carl pressed the final button and Buddy slumped over. His body lost all firmness and became still.