Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure

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Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure Page 24

by Percival Constantine


  “Very simple answer—I don’t work here,” he said.

  “And how is it you were in the most-restricted area of the compound?”

  “I’m here on behalf of some people who are extremely interested in the work being done by Proximo Labs. These are people who are very wealthy, and very powerful.”

  “And what work is that? Does it have something to do with Lucent? What exactly are your employers after?”

  Palmer sat back in his chair and fixed his metallic eyes on Paragon’s light brown ones. A smile spread beneath his pencil-thin mustache. “How are you feeling, Anita?”

  Paragon was taken aback at the question. “What?” How did he know her name?

  “Are those headaches still giving you trouble?” he asked, a flash in his eyes. “I hope they haven’t impaired your ability to prove useful to your team.”

  Paragon suddenly felt a feeling of light-headedness overcome her. She tried to shake it off, leaning forward and bracing herself on the desk with her palms. “What are you doing to me?”

  The Analyst rose from the chair and leaned towards her, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Those headaches are only going to get worse. That’s the problem with abilities fueled by the power of the mind. It’s paradoxically both the strongest and frailest of all the organs. I should know, I’ve had these abilities for decades.”

  The entire room spun. Paragon didn’t know which way was up. She felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. When she did manage to hold herself steady enough to look at the Analyst, she realized that she had seen his face before.

  “It’s you…I remember you…”

  The Analyst gave her a smile. “That’s right. In Tora Bora.”

  “But Tora Bora…it didn’t happen…did it?”

  He gave a chortle. “That’s exactly what the Khagan wanted. To make it seem that you were crazy. No one would believe you, especially given our own powerful resources.”

  At the sound of the Khagan, Paragon struggled to pin that name to a face. It sounded familiar, she knew she’d met this man before. Or at least she thought she did.

  “My, I’ve forgotten just how much I loved being inside your mind, Anita. And words cannot properly express my excitement at the prospect of doing so in the future.”

  Paragon reached out, attempting to grab hold of the Analyst’s shirt, but she was so weak and disoriented that she collapsed on the desk. The Analyst knelt down so his eyes were level with hers and the only clear thought in her head was that she wanted to punch that smarmy little smirk right off his face.

  “You’re very important for what’s to come, Anita. The Khagan has told me so. But it’s not yet time for us, I’m afraid. Don’t worry, though—the plan has already been set into motion and soon you will prove your worth to the Red Fist.”

  ***

  Charlie sat behind the desk, tapping his hands rhythmically on its wooden surface. When the girl with green skin had been in here earlier, he wanted to be more helpful. But he also knew Dr. Rowe would have his balls in a vise if he dared reveal anything about the project without her express consent. Not only would she have fired him from Proximo, but she would have done her best to see to it that his professional life was left in ruins.

  When the door to the office he’d been locked in opened, in stepped the hulking, gray form of Sharkskin. Charlie did a double-take upon seeing the rows of jagged teeth in the man’s wide grin and the pitch-black eyes, but he tried to maintain his composure.

  “Listen, it’s like I told your friend before. I’d like to help, but I really don’t know anything. I’m just a lab tech, that’s it. Dr. Rowe is really the one you need to talk to.”

  Sharkskin circled around behind Charlie. The young technician was clad in darkness as the special’s massive form cast a shadow over Charlie’s head. He could feel Sharkskin’s warm breath on the back of his neck and it made the peach-fuzz there stand at attention.

  “Was told you might say that. So thought I’d bring in someone else to loosen your tongue.”

  Charlie certainly didn’t like the sound of that, and he wondered just what Sharkskin was talking about. If the guy who seemed to be a cross between Quint and Jaws wasn’t who was going to get him to talk, just what did these people have in mind?

  Another figure entered the room, closing the door behind. And this one made Charlie’s blood run cold, filling him with more fear than a thousand Sharkskins could generate.

  Miriam Rowe regarded Charlie from behind her glasses, the ever-present scorn something he had seen often, though had never quite grown accustomed to. She gave a slight nod and said, “I’ve agreed to cooperate with them. To tell them all about your role in this project.”

  Charlie blinked. “M-my role?” He pointed at his own shocked face. He turned his head, acknowledging Sharkskin out of the corner of his eyes. “She’s lying! This is all her doing!” He pointed a finger at her.

  “Enough, Charlie,” said Miriam. “They know the truth.”

  “The truth? No, no! Look, the truth is Dr. Gibson was testing out some new fusion reactor, but something went wrong and he became that—whatever that was! Then she—” He jutted his finger towards Miriam to accentuate his point. “—She trapped him in that machine! Said she wanted to see what he could do, was more interested in how much money he could make for the company, and how far he could advance her own career!”

  “That so?” Sharkskin placed a firm hand on Charlie’s shoulder and leaned forward, his teeth now inches from the technician’s ears. “So did you create Lucent or not?”

  “No, we couldn’t just…create…something like that. She said she thought he must be like you. That the accident just…triggered something.”

  “And then she chose to imprison him,” said Miriam.

  Charlie paused when he heard her speak in the third person. He then noticed she wasn’t looking at him at all, but rather at Sharkskin. “What is this?” He looked at Miriam. “You—you’re not her, are you?”

  “Miriam” gave a smile and her pale skin took on a green hue. Her eyes became yellow and her entire body—including her clothes, hair, and glasses—all took on a clay-like consistency, moving around and reshaping until Charlie realized just what his previous interrogator’s power really was.

  “You’re a shape-shifter,” he said. “That’s…that’s amazing!”

  “Thanks for your cooperation, Charlie,” said Shift. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “No, no wait!” Charlie rapidly shot to his feet, but Sharkskin forced him back into the chair. “You can’t—I didn’t know! Miriam, she’ll crucify me for this!”

  “You screwed yourself over once you locked that guy up,” said Sharkskin. “Now how about you tell us everything there is to know about him?”

  ***

  The Analyst stepped out of the office used for his interrogation, with Paragon following him. Gunsmith, waiting in the corridor, took notice of the exit. He stepped forward in protest.

  “Whoa, hold on, what are you doing?”

  “It’s okay, he doesn’t know anything,” said Paragon. “He’s just some investor who was here to take a tour of the lab.”

  “A tour of a highly-classified lab?” asked Gunsmith, never removing his gaze from the Analyst.

  “Trust me, I was in there with him for a good hour,” said Paragon. “He doesn’t know anything.”

  “No one leaves, not until we’ve discussed it.”

  “If I may…”

  Gunsmith and Paragon faced the Analyst as he stepped closer, giving Vanguard’s leader a warm smile. “I agree with your position. Even though I have no involvement with whatever Miriam Rowe was doing here, protocol must be observed. So I am more than willing to remain in your custody for as long as you require…Lt. Ellis.”

  Suspicion instantly came across Gunsmith’s face at the mention of his surname and his rank. But just as he was about to inquire how this strange man came about that sensitive information, a strange feeling came over him, l
ike he was in a daze. When he spoke the next words, he felt like he was outside himself, watching someone else say them.

  “No, that’s okay. If Paragon says there’s no need for you to remain any longer, then I trust her judgment.”

  The Analyst flashed a smile. “She is one of the finest, is she not?”

  Gunsmith grinned and looked at Paragon. “That she is.” He faced the Analyst and offered his hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr…?”

  “Names do not hold the level of importance we ascribe to them, wouldn’t you agree?” asked the Analyst whilst shaking Gunsmith’s hand.

  “Sounds about right,” said Gunsmith. “Again, thanks for your time.”

  “I only wish I could be of more service. But I believe our paths shall cross again.” The Analyst offered a slight bow and walked down the corridor.

  Once he’d gone, Gunsmith and Paragon exchanged curious glances. Paragon peeked into the now-empty office and gave Gunsmith a look of confusion. “Was someone just in there?”

  Gunsmith responded with a shrug. “Not that I know of. Come on, we need to regroup with the others, figure out just what we know about Lucent and how we should proceed from here.”

  ***

  The team regrouped back at the Icarus, where Zenith had been throughout the interrogations, monitoring the surrounding areas for any sign of Lucent’s unique energy signature. They all gathered in the passenger bay, with the faces of Colonel Leonard Thorne and Dr. Howard McCabe—the two overseers of Vanguard—displayed on the large monitor on the partition dividing the cockpit from the cabin.

  “So what is it we’re dealing with?” asked Thorne.

  “Apparently Lucent used to be Dr. Terrence Gibson, who, according to Proximo’s records, was employed as a scientist researching alternative energy,” said Zenith. “I’ve uploaded the data recorded from our first encounter with him.”

  “Yes, I’ve been reviewing it,” said McCabe. “Did you learn anything from the staff?”

  “Few of them knew exactly what was going on,” said Gunsmith. “The project was headed up by Dr. Miriam Rowe, and it seems she was something of a harsh taskmaster. Many of the people we spoke with had some unflattering things to say about her.”

  “The words ‘ice bitch’ and ‘Satan’s whore’ were thrown around several times,” added Wraith. His statement earned him some scornful looks from Shift and Paragon, but he just gave a shrug in response. “What? I didn’t think them up.”

  “Rowe herself was pretty uncooperative,” said Gunsmith, continuing his report. “But Erin and Koji managed to extract some useful info from her assistant.”

  “Looks like Gibson was involved in some kind of fusion experiment that went screwy,” said Shift. “Seems Rowe thought that it triggered his transformation.”

  “How’s that work?” asked Thorne, turning to McCabe.

  “The Event altered all of mankind on a genetic level, but the special gene is latent in the vast majority of humanity. Theoretically, his gene could have been activated through some external stimulus. We’ve just never seen it until now,” said McCabe.

  “Think we’re beyond the theory stage, Doc,” said Sharkskin.

  “I agree,” said McCabe. “Reviewing the data confirms Zenith’s initial analysis—Gibson is capable of absorbing multiple forms of energy, able to redirect it in a multitude of ways. And from the way he escaped, it would seem that he’s able to transmute his entire body into pure energy. But his power isn’t limitless—Gibson needs to absorb energy in order to fuel his abilities. Although he has limits, this man still may be the most-powerful special we’ve yet encountered.”

  “Which explains why Proximo was so interested in keeping him as a lab rat,” said Paragon.

  “Speaking of which, how’d you find out about this so fast, Thorne?” asked Wraith. “We were told about this pretty much instantly.”

  “Proximo has several contracts with the DOD, stands to reason that someone in the lab sent a notice that quickly went to the Secretary, who then contacted us,” said Thorne.

  “Right. Convenient it all worked out in the nick of time, isn’t it?” The incredulity Wraith felt could be heard in the tone of his voice.

  “We don’t have time for this, Vaughn.” Thorne was stern in his declaration. “Gibson is extremely powerful and extremely dangerous.”

  “Proximo staff are required to undergo psychiatric evaluations once a quarter,” said Zenith. “Dr. Gibson’s suggests some anti-social tendencies. Perhaps why Dr. Rowe was promoted ahead of him to lead the project.”

  “What about the staff? Should we let ‘em go?” asked Sharkskin.

  Thorne gave a nod. “Go ahead and release the lockdown, Zenith. No reason to keep them chained up inside. Our main priority is Gibson. Any progress on that front?”

  Zenith bent his arm and held it in front of his body. From his forearm, he generated a holographic map of the state of Nevada. There were several bright blue spots on the translucent map. “Since Lucent’s departure from Proximo, there have been some brief traces of his energy signature, but they’ve appeared randomly.”

  “He’s on the move,” said Thorne.

  “Indeed,” said Zenith. “The most-recent activity seems concentrated in the Las Vegas area, however.”

  “Vegas, as in lots of electricity powering hundreds of casinos and brightly-lit buildings?” asked Wraith.

  “We have to get the Icarus to Vegas right away, that’s likely where he’ll refuel,” said Gunsmith.

  “Not so fast,” said Thorne. “From the information Zenith obtained from Proximo’s databanks, Gibson looks like he’s had a grudge against Rowe even before his imprisonment, and that means he’ll probably come after her.”

  “According to Proximo’s files, the chamber used to hold Lucent was capable of directing energy into him. Perhaps the process could be reversed, to sap him of his power,” said Zenith.

  “We can’t just wait for him to turn up, though,” said Gunsmith. “Especially if he’s supercharging himself as we speak.”

  “There’s something else,” said McCabe. “From the data of the battle, Lucent seemed weakened by Wraith’s attack. His shadow-blasts could prove to be a significant weakness.”

  “‘Shadow-blasts’?” asked Wraith with a raised eyebrow. McCabe gave a sheepish smile.

  “Split into two teams,” said Thorne. “Vaughn can weaken Gibson and Anita’s our heaviest hitter, so they should go with Zenith to Vegas.”

  “But he absorbs energy,” said Shift. “Shouldn’t Zen stay back?”

  “I am the only one capable of tracking his energy signature,” said Zenith. “I must go.”

  “Right, but hang back. Only use your strength,” said Gunsmith. “Erin and Koji, you stay back here with me. We’ll guard the facility. If Lucent does get back here, Koji takes point.”

  Sharkskin cast some awkward glances about the cabin before pointing a clawed finger at his snout. “Me?”

  “Your powers are physical and you’re stronger and faster than Erin,” said Gunsmith, before giving Shift an apologetic look. “No offense.”

  A few months ago, Shift would have taken that offense, but she’d seen enough since they fought the Exemplar in Chicago. “No, you’re right. Koji’s a better fighter than me.”

  Gunsmith continued, looking at Paragon. “I’m not much use myself. My guns use the same energy as Zenith’s cannon, so they’ll only give Lucent more power. I’ll have to rely on other means to try and fight. This means we won’t have a whole lot of options if he gets past you in Vegas.”

  “He won’t,” said Paragon, although few could take solace in her confidence—herself included.

  “Release the staff, but keep Rowe locked down somewhere safe,” said Thorne. “We don’t have a whole lot of options here. Try to take him out as quickly as you can.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Terry Gibson stood beneath the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign located on the southern end of the famous Las Vegas Strip in the t
own of Paradise. The bright mixture of red, orange, yellow, blue, and white lights stood out—like most of the Strip—as a burst of illumination against the darkness of night. Terry closed his eyes and reached an outstretched hand for the sign, he could feel the crackle of electricity coursing into the landmark, and one by one, the lights shattered, the energy contained within arcing down to meet his fingertips.

  His eyes snapped open, now burning with a luminescent blue glow. His skin changed, an azure hue radiating from his eyelids until his entire body stood transformed by the power of the electricity. The sign went dark, its energy now fueling Terry Gibson’s metamorphosis into Lucent.

  Crowds of people stopped in their tracks to view the strange sight of this iridescent man who now hovered several feet above the ground. Lucent couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips. He was a god compared to them, looking down upon them, capable of dealing out lethal judgment if he so desired.

  Lucent continued hovering down Las Vegas Boulevard, and the electricity from the various hotel and casino signs blew with sparks. The power sought Lucent’s waiting form, breaking free of the glass confines that held it prisoner. Cars swerved, slamming into each other and buildings, trying to quickly turn and drive as far away from the special as possible. With the gridlock, several abandoned their vehicles and retreated on foot as fast as their legs could manage, even trampling others as they did.

  Let them run, he didn’t care about their pathetic lives. He just needed the power so he could crush Miriam Rowe like the insignificant fly she now was to him.

  He continued down the street, moving rapidly, absorbing as much power as would come his way. It wasn’t long before he was hovering near the tip of the Eiffel Tower of the Paris Las Vegas hotel, and its vivid, yellow lights. Lucent drew electricity from the tower, further charging his powers. The rush was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

  Lucent laughed, testing out his newfound powers by hurling a burst of energy at the tower’s base. One of the legs was instantly vaporized and the entire structure teetered, about to collapse.

 

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