by Matt Adams
To my right, Warren launches several Comet Stars before engaging in a series of athletic leaps. He ends up in an open area where a group of Violet Bands decides it’s time to take down the Once and Future Crusading Comet. As the Bands draw closer, I get ready to launch into Crimsonspeed before Warren rolls to the side. Indigo light surges from above courtesy of his father, the latest Indigo Band.
It was all a trap!
Showoffs.
The entire battle is shaping up to be a confusing cycle of good guys versus bad guys with no clear winner. In war, it seems, nobody emerges victorious.
We make enough of an impression that the Bands grow desperate, with several combining their strikes to take out Kiltech ships and other key targets. More of the alien vessels pour into the astral plane to replace their downed comrades—and more Bands flood in through their tunnels.
“The command center, Fairborne!” Samson Knight grunts, preparing another strike with his weapon. “They’re trying to overwhelm it!”
I turn just in time to see about a dozen Bands target Kilgore, Morty, and the High Imperator with various beam attacks.
I rush off toward the group that’s converging on the command center, but I suddenly realize that my feet aren’t on the ground. Jaci’s got me. “Better to go over than through,” she says, dropping me next to Kilgore and the High Imperator.
My eyes dart toward the swirling, rainbow cloud of the Bands’ tunnels. “We have to close those,” I say. “For every one we beat, two more stream through to replace them.”
“Their supply of warriors is not infinite,” the High Imperator says, taking aim with a Kiltech depowering ray. He squeezes off a shot. “We keep hitting them and they’ll eventually run out.”
“Our supply of warriors is not infinite either,” Kilgore points out, unleashing an explosive that clears out a row of Bands. “Perhaps you should listen to your son.”
“No relation!” the High Imperator and I shout in unison.
“Neither explosives nor laser blasts will collapse those tunnels,” Morty says. “The Kiltechs have been trying to close them, but it isn’t working. I can think of only one thing could shut those interdimensional rifts.”
I’m hoping he’s referring to an icy glare from the High Imperator, because that would be easy to come by. However, I think my unique speed-rift skill set is what we’re gonna need. Again.
“I can’t get up there,” I say. “It’s too heavily guarded.”
“We are not so weak,” Kilgore counters, unleashing another explosive. “We have flight-powered heroes in multitude.”
Jaci touches down beside me, drawing a sneer from the High Imperator. “Graves could get him up there. I could him up there if you hadn’t seen fit to strip me of my powers. You told me they’d come back. I’m still waiting.” Two Yellow Bands crash behind us. “I suppose that’s not our top priority at the moment, though, hmm?”
Nonplussed, Kilgore fires his weapon, hitting three Blue Bands who land in front of us. The High Imperator skids forward, grabs a Band of Power from one of the downed fighters, and places it atop his head.
Problem solved!
Except nothing happens.
“The Band must be willingly given,” Kilgore explains. You can hear the smirk in his voice, even through the modulation. “Otherwise, it is nothing more than gaudy decoration. Ah, Colonel Chaos and Miss Lightspeed approach.”
They land with a thud, and my father encases us all inside a protective orange force field. “They keep feeding new soldiers in from above.”
“You don’t say,” the High Imperator answers in mock surprise. It’s delivered good-naturedly enough that I decide not to smack him. He and my father seem to have reached some sort of interdimensional détente.
“We’ve managed to prevent the exponential growth of their powers,” Morty says. “But if we seal off the tunnels, the Bands will have no place to go. They won’t be able to find their way back.”
“Your trap is commendable,” Kilgore concedes, nodding at Morty. “The pocket realm has allowed us to wage a fair fight.” Rays of rainbow light level Kiltech soldiers about four football fields away from us. “If we could contain them here, we would cut off the head of their forces.”
“It’s a long way up there,” Dad says. “And Chris isn’t much help. No offense, son. It’s just that you can’t run in the air.”
A black blob rips open in the sky and more warriors break through. At first, I dread another dose of the Bands. When I squint, I see Sapphire Twelve rush to meet them, spraying a group of approaching enemy warriors with columns of sapphire light.
“I’ll be damned,” I snort. “It’s the Champions of Justice.”
Morty smiles. “A timely arrival, I would say.”
I can’t argue with him—the COJ’s flight-powered troops smash into the ranks of the Bands that surround the tunnels. With a grunt that I can hear even over the chaos around us, Sapphire Twelve unleashes a devastating wave of blue energy that creates a void in the Bands’ ranks. They quickly stream through the tunnels to fill it.
“This is it,” Morty says excitedly. “This is our best chance. They’re distracted.”
“Something tells me they won’t stay that way for long,” Dad offers, putting his left hand up to his forehead and pausing for a second. “I just called the Comets.”
A second later, Indigo Band Comet and Warren materialize next to us.
“What now?” the Comet asks. Dad points at the tunnels, and the Comet gives him a smart nod. “Right.”
“Would someone mind sharing that with the rest of us?” Jaci asks impatiently.
A wide beam of multihued energy comes our way, but Dad reinforces the protective bubble. He redirects the blast, which veers back toward the Bands, taking out an entire column. Again, new Bands fill the gap.
“We need to transport Christopher up there,” Morty says. “This will take a coordinated effort. I would suggest that Colonel Chaos and the Comet fortify the force field that currently surrounds us. Miss Graves and Miss Lightspeed will provide support.”
“What about me?” Warren asks.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to sit this one out, young Comet,” Morty says.
Kilgore holds up a nasty-looking Kiltech weapon and the High Imperator tosses aside his rifle, a crazed smile on his face as he accepts his new toy and powers the thing up. “Take me with you. I’ll provide the cover fire until we reach the tunnels and hold them off while your son hits Crimsonspeed.”
“You’re too valuable as a field commander,” Dad responds.
The High Imperator is still wearing the Blue Band that refuses to work. With the Kiltech gun, he looks like one of the guys from Contra. We sure could use a little up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start right now. Heck, throw in a select, start there at the end.
“That may be, Chaos, but I’d like to bring something to this battle.”
Dad snatches the rifle away. “See, High Imperator? You’re not up to it. You stay and consult with Kilgore.” His point made, he hands the rifle back to the High Imperator, who accepts it reluctantly.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he insists.
The force field tightens and swirls with bolts of indigo and orange energy as we rise into the air. As we move over the battlefield, I see Samson Knight drag Great Alexander beside him, fending off beams of energy with his electro-mace. Several personalities of Exponential burst onto the scene to confuse the attacking Bands. Kiltechs surge forward to provide cover fire. Once Samson Knight and Great Alexander are safe, the soldiers fall back.
We get so high, I can no longer make out what’s happening below. Ahead, the remaining rainbow wall is not as daunting as the initial force, but it’s still overwhelming. Kiltech shuttles arrive in support, dipping beneath us to open fire on the Bands. At the other end, the Champions redirect their attacks, though I see no sign of Sapphire Twelve.
It’s still not enough in the face of the large collection of Band
s.
“That is a lot of Green Lantern knockoffs,” I say as we continue to surge forward.
“Can’t you just teleport past them?” Jaci asks.
The Comet shakes his head. “They’re blocking us.”
Several streams of energy cascade toward the protective buckle, shaking the whole thing. I risk a glance below; it looks like someone has shaken loose an ant farm. I can’t imagine anyone being able to see us from this distance.
A few more Kiltech ships settle in behind us, but they can’t do much good. They’d have to fire through us in order to reach the Bands. They wouldn’t do that, of course. We’re allies. So why am I hearing a high-pitched hum?
Kinda sounds like…
“Move! Get us out of their way!” I yell, my body getting jerked around violently as Dad and the Comet react. The Kiltech ships open fire, focusing concentrated beams of intense energy on the core of the Bands’ wall. It’s a grand show worthy of CNN war coverage, but it doesn’t do much good. A handful of Bands fall, but it’s not enough to create an opening.
The Kiltech ships fire another volley. A rainbow shield blocks and dissipates the beam.
“This isn’t working,” Dad says. “We’re going to get killed if we stay here much longer. They know what we’re after.”
The energy wall disappears and the whining hum of Kiltech weaponry stops. We stare at the Bands; they stare back. The theme from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly wouldn’t seem out of place. I half expect the astral plane equivalent of a tumbleweed to roll on through. Other western tropes would follow, of course: the old prospector, the book-smart dandy, the town doctor, the prostitute with a heart of gold, the mysterious stranger, and the town drunk. We sure could use the hero in a white hat.
Or a Blue Band, I think as a crazed war whoop shatters the silence.
“Take the fight right to them!” the High Imperator yells. Surrounded by a wave of blue energy, he squeezes off a few shots from the Kiltech equivalent of a grenade launcher. At first, I think he’s beaten the Blue Band into submission before I realize Sapphire Twelve is using her powers to hold him in place. Having regrouped, several of the Champions of Justice—the High Imperator’s former Enforcers—rally behind them.
“I told you to stay put!” Dad shouts, struggling to reinforce the force field.
“You looked like you could use the help,” the High Imperator retorts.
“You can’t do any good up here,” Dad shoots back.
The High Imperator turns toward Sapphire Twelve. “The Fairbornes of your world give up far too easily. And they’re so ungrateful.”
“This probably isn’t the appropriate time to thank you for bringing the Kiltechs and the Bands down on us,” I say. “But thanks, ass.” The comment gets a scowl from not-my-father. Another hum whines through the air, and a flash of rainbow energy surges from the collected Bands.
“We’re toast,” I say, closing my eyes for the killing blow.
It never comes.
Instead, the sky opens up as if someone tugged at tiny seams until they ripped them away. Holes appear in the too-blue sky. A pink portal swallows the Kiltechs’ largest ship, the Invincible. Other gateways open as well.
The sound that follows is so unholy and unbelievable that I don’t care to describe it.
I’ll do it anyway.
Imagine someone sampled audio from Spirit’s pet bird Freedom from G.I. Joe and then multiplied it a thousand-fold. You would get an ear-piercing assortment of bird screams and caws that would be the “thank God, we’re saved” equivalent of nails on a chalkboard.
A sturdy man-bird resembling Falcon Gray leads the way, wielding a gold-colored axe. Behind him, a seemingly endless cascade of creatures of similar height and weight tumbles out of the portal. The unexpected nature of the new threat causes a breach in Band discipline, and the rainbow wall begins to break apart. The Kiltech ships open fire again, only adding to the confusion.
“This is it!” I yell. “Go! Go!”
The force field propels forward before the first syllable is out of my mouth, but I continue to yell. Samson Knight always wanted me to be more vocal. I’d hate to disappoint him. The High Imperator fires controlled blasts at the remaining Bands. The once mighty enemy is so shaken that the High Imperator’s strikes scatter them with each shot.
We draw closer to the tunnel entrance. Dad and the Comet strain, and I’m guessing they’re squeezing every last drop of energy out of their Bands of Power. For their sakes, I’m hoping there’s a recharge station nearby. The chaos in the sky makes the earlier battle look like a perfectly organized breadline. I hear so much squawking.
Before we know it, we’re inside the orange tunnel.
“This is strange,” Dad observes.
His voice betrays a certain amount of wonderment, something I find oddly reassuring. We stand inside a swirling expanse of orange energy that sends the color rippling in every direction and every imaginable shade. Occasionally, the thick mist evaporates, revealing a scene from one of Earth’s realities.
“Must be a reality where the Crusading Comet owns everything,” Dad says as the mists clear to reveal a large billboard with Warren Kensington’s picture on it. “Reminds me of Blade Runner.” The picture of Kensington is large and clearly digital. A sky taxi flies right by it, as if to validate my father’s observation.
“Definitely Blade Runner,” I agree.
“Kensington Media Properties?” the Comet asks. “What in the world—”
“We’re here now,” Jaci says, cutting off our musing. “You’d better get running, hotshot.”
“Interesting,” Dad says. He looks around the poorly defined space. “I can’t tell what’s left and right, let alone what’s up and down.”
He’s right; the tunnel doesn’t seem to go in any specific direction.
I hear a clopping sound in the distance, like a thundering herd.
We. Are. Marshall.
We press our backs against a nonexistent wall as several Orange Bands fly past. I can’t tell where they’re coming from, since the entire tunnel is as directionally challenged as an M.C. Escher painting.
“I suggest going the opposite direction,” Dad says. “It’s probably your best bet.”
“Sure,” I say, scratching my head. “Piece of cake.”
Sapphire Twelve and the High Imperator appear through the orange mists.
“Nice of you guys to drop by,” I say.
“I needed to see it for myself,” the High Imperator explains. “I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.”
We see a flash of another reality. This one shows us an image of the U.S. Senate. Each member is a personality of Exponential. One of them appears to be involved in a rather passionate filibuster.
The High Imperator scowls. “Don’t ever send me to that one.”
“Agreed,” Jaci says as another personality of Exponential appears to shout himself down.
It’s seriously giving me a headache. Mercifully, the scene fades away.
Dad spins toward the High Imperator. “How’s it going out there?”
“I don’t know where the birdmen came from, but they turned the tide,” the High Imperator says.
“I wonder how they got here,” Dad muses. Quickly, he realizes there’s no time to give it much thought. “You’ve got to get running, son.”
Before I can take off, my mother catches my arm. “I’m going with you.”
“There’s no need to put yourself at risk. I can do this,” I insist.
“That’s not all there is to it,” she responds with a scowl.
I don’t want to tell her that I’m afraid she’s going to have one of her fits at a critical moment, but I can read the hurt in her eyes. She knows what I’m thinking even if she doesn’t know that Samson Knight’s been lying to everyone about her.
“You can’t keep up with me,” I finally say. “I’ll lose you once I hit Perfect Speed.”
“Dammit, Chris,” Jaci says, stabbing a finger in
to my chest. “You can’t fly and you can barely take a punch. When the Bands realize what you’re doing, they’ll come at you with everything they’ve got. Your mother can buy you time.”
I look, eyes pleading, at my father. “She’s right, son,” he whispers. “You’re better off with your mother.”
The High Imperator adjusts his useless headband. “Move it, Fairborne. And take her with you.”
I wanna punch him in the face just for giving his opinion. Depowered, he couldn’t offer any more retaliation than an enraged hockey enforcer.
“Let’s go,” Dad orders. “I hope we’re still holding up out there.”
No one stops for mushy goodbyes or voices words of encouragement. We don’t have time for that. Dad, Jaci, the Comet, the High Imperator, and Sapphire Twelve disappear, leaving me alone with my mother.
“How does this work?” she asks.
“We run,” I tell her. “We run until there’s no more room left to run. Then we run some more.”
We take off toward an unknown destination and an unseen horizon. Here, there are no streets to follow and no landmarks to guide our way. We move through clouds of orange occasionally punctuated by other colors.
Faster.
Faster.
Yellow replaces orange.
Then, blue.
Indigo.
Violet.
Green.
Red.
“We’ve run through all of them!” I yell as I continue to pick up speed. I don’t know if anyone hears me.
Rapid footsteps behind me.
To my left, my mother desperately tries to keep up.
More footsteps.
To my right, another figure. Familiar. Blue.
The Bluestreak.
Scarlet DashBoy.
He pulls ahead, but I put some distance between us. I’m not losing this one.
Faster and faster we go, a bright flash…
Darkness.
I’m sitting on my butt.
So is DashBoy.
We both breathe heavily as we sit in solid blackness, as if the Night’s Watch dumped their services at the Wall and decided to decorate. Were they serving drinks here, I’d bet you’d have your choice of coffee, straight black.