by Lee, Tristan
Belle laughs and wraps her arms around Chris’s torso, “Thank you, Chris.”
“Trust me, Sweetheart, seeing you happy is a better present than anything else in the world,” Chris says.
Rather suddenly, there is the sound of glass shattering somewhere in the backyard. Chris frowns and pulls away from his wife, “I’d better go check on that.”
“It’s probably just Thor and Wigglefloof,” Belle reassures him.
“I’d still better go see,” Chris says, leaving.
Belle continues to catch up with her parents for about a second longer until her husband is violently blasted through the screen door; smashing through the cake before hitting the couch, flipping it from his impact, and coming to a halt.
“Aotiuer!” Chris roars, rising to his feet, his back covered in purple and pink frosting.
“Frank, get the humans out,” Dr. Pryce orders. Frank nods and pulls his sword out from behind the TV and grabs Mrs. Brightly, who is holding her husband’s hand. They disappear for a moment before he reappears and does the same to Marilyn and Janet.
“Humans includes you,” Frank says, laying a hand on Dr. Pryce’s shoulder and placing the other on Sandor’s.
“I can handle myself,” the doctor argues.
“You’re not bulletproof anymore, Doc,” Dick says. “Go.”
Dr. Pryce is about to argue when Frank teleports away with him and Sandor. He reappears for the final time, “What’s the plan?” he asks.
“The plan is to go out there and see what aliens are doing in my backyard,” Chris says. Before anyone can advise restraint, Chris marches outside. The Invincibles and Eva St. Clair are forced to follow.
There are only six Aotiuer; five bruisers and the most humanlike Aotiuer so far. It stands a few inches shorter than Chris and wears heavy armor with an ornate black staff in his hands. Floating in transparent green orbs on either side of the new Aotiuer are Belle and Chris’s pets, Thor on its left and Wigglefloof on its right.
“I do not mean to intrude,” the Aotiuer says in a nasally, snide voice. “And I do regret that my troops opened fire on you. Rest assured, they will be appropriately punished.”
“Hurt my dogs and I’ll fuck you up,” Chris snarls.
The Aotiuer laughs and taps his staff on the ground. The orbs disperse and Thor and Wigglefloof drop to the floor. They sprint over to their owners, but growl and bare their teeth at the Aotiuer.
“Frank, get them out of here,” Belle says. Frank nods and teleports away with the dogs.
“Alright, now what the hell do you want?” Dick asks. “I was enjoying myself in there.”
“I come to offer you an olive branch,” the Aotiuer says. “But first, some introductions are in order. I am Gi-Chul, Supreme Commander of the Aotiuer.”
“And what are you offering?” Anna asks.
“Peace,” Gi-Chul says. “You have fought valiantly and killed many of my brothers. I do not wish to see any more of my people killed, nor do I wish to see anymore of yours killed.”
“I have a funny feeling that there’s a catch,” Frank says when he reappears.
“In order for us to have peace, I need one of my prisoners returned,” Gi-Chul says. “I believe that you call him ‘Kaiju’.”
“Not an option,” Anna says. “We don’t give up our own.”
“But he is not one of your own. He is an alien and rightfully our property through right of conquest,” Gi-Chul says.
“I’ve only met him once, but Kaiju is off the table,” Eva says. “Anything else you want?”
“I got a Data action figure from Star Trek: The Next Generation,” Belle offers. “It’s in the original packaging and everything.”
“The only thing I will accept as payment is my prisoner,” Gi-Chul says.
“As the lady said,” Frank says. “Our teammate is not a bargaining chip.”
“Then I will be forced to take him back by force.”
“Go ahead and try,” Dick challenges.
“I will,” Gi-Chul says unpleasantly. “Since I have already intruded on your celebration, I will grant you a respite and not attack. But be warned, I will take what is rightfully mine with force if need be.”
With that, Gi-Chul and his Aotiuer disappear.
“Well,” Peter says. “That was sort of a pisser.”
Train Wreck
August 19th
“So, yeah, I’ve had worse birthdays, but not many,” Belle finishes. The Invincibles are back at Invincibles Tower and have just finished explaining to Dr. Pryce, Sandor, and Kaiju what happened at the party.
“What’s our next move?” Anna asks. “We’re not just going to give them Kaiju, are we?”
“Of course not,” Sandor says. “But I’m not sure what to do.”
“We go on offense,” Chris says. “I’m sick of always having to hit back. Let’s get to the Aotiuer fleet and blow the shit out of them.”
“Where is the Aotiuer fleet?” Belle asks.
“Right, she doesn’t know,” Dick says. “This is awkward.”
“I don’t know what?” Belle asks suspiciously. “What do I not know?”
“When I went scouting beyond the Kuiper Belt,” Chris explains. “I found the entire Aotiuer fleet.”
“And you never told me?” Belle asks incredulously.
“In his defense, you were sort of asleep,” Peter says.
“Well I’m going pretend like I’m not mad about being kept in the dark,” Belle says. “How are we supposed to get there before my hair turns grey and all of us are shriveled up skeletons?”
“We find a Wormhole Generator,” Dr. Pryce says.
“Remind me again what that does,” Anna requests.
“A Wormhole Generator doesn’t actually generate anything,” Kaiju explains. “It’s like a proactive compass for interstellar wormholes; it can find them and then opens one up to the destination in mind.”
“It’s relatively easy to find one,” Dr. Pryce continues. “But we’re going to need one on a massive scale.”
“What for?” Peter asks.
“We’re going to need to get the Falcon through,” Anna realizes.
“Exactly,” Dr. Pryce says.
“I’ll find you one of those doohickeys,” Sandor promises. “You just get ready to assault an alien fleet once I find one.”
“Well, there you have it,” Dr. Pryce says. “Invincibles, pack your things.”
After that the tower is buzzing with activity as the Invincibles prepare what they will need for the pending invasion. Dr. Pryce, Dick, and Peter are in the lab; Dr. Pryce is making modifications on his android as Dick tests the durability of his shield and Peter outfits his harness to hold more cocaine powder. Belle helps Chris repair his armor as Anna and Frank spar in the training area with Kaiju practicing when to use his belt’s size manipulation ability the most efficiently.
“Belle, take a look at this,” Dr. Pryce says. He hands her a one-piece red and black suit that would, when worn, cover everything except her head.
“What is it?” Belle asks.
“Your new uniform,” he explains. “Your body isn’t built to resist the extreme g-forces. Without this suit, you’ll be crushed out there.”
“Cool. What does it do?”
“Other than protect you from gravity’s extremes and the vacuum of space, it’s bulletproof. The impact of the bullet would still hurt and still might kill you, but it won’t permeate the suit. The suit is also fireproof, so you can go nuts with your pyrokinesis.”
“Thanks, doc.”
“Consider it a late birthday present. I’m working on an effective and compact rebreather for you right now.”
“Thank you,” Belle says. “You really didn’t have to.”
After the Invincibles check, double-check, and triple-check their gear, Sandor emerges from the look with a stony expression.
“What’s wrong, boss?” Dick asks.
“We have a little bit of a difficult situation with th
e Wormhole Generator,” Sandor says. “The only one that could transport the Falcon is in the possession of some people who really don’t like us.”
“Who?” Peter asks.
“Kronos.”
Kronos is a “scientific research” organization that has been sanctioned and almost shut down countless times for human rights violations. Unfortunately, no government has ever been able to shut them down permanently because of their various international assets and their army of brainwashed soldiers. Before the World War 3, Kronos was headed by Robert Gordon and then his son Lyonel, but following the war Lyonel turned over control of the company to the disgraced and disavowed German Chancellor, Esel Schiesse. Under Schiesse’s command, Kronos became one of the most feared organizations on the planet, rivaling Nihon-Ja and his Black Dragons.
“So how do we get it?” Chris asks as he finishes up with his armor.
“I made a few phone calls and provoked Kronos enough to have them move it,” Sandor says. “I’ve got the location of the train they’re using to transport it.”
“Where?” Frank asks.
“Siberia, of all places,” Sandor says. “It’s en route to a Kronos facility a little less than two days away. If you leave now, you can intercept the train and have thirteen hours to get the generator and get out. All before Kronos sends reinforcements or the Siberian government blows a gasket.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Anna asks, wiping the sweat off her brow. “Let’s go get it.”
“Once again, it’s not that simple,” Sandor says. “We can’t just blow up the train; it’ll damage the generator. Also, around the same time you reach the train, it will be nearing Soloksev.”
“That’s thirty thousand or so people caught in the crossfire if we start a firefight,” Dr. Pryce notes.
“So you can’t make it a firefight,” Sandor says. “You’ve got to contain the fight to the areas immediately around the train. That also shortens your clock by ten hours or so, unless you can stop the train before it gets to Soloksev.”
“Then we have no time to lose,” Kaiju says. “I suggest that we leave now.”
“No kidding,” says Peter as he straps his harness on. “Let’s get kicking.”
The Invincibles close in on the train’s location around the late afternoon with the sun starting to set. There is not enough darkness for their approach to be undetected, however, and the heavily armed and armored train opens fire on the Falcon. Defender and Dr. Invictus’ superb flying skills prevent them from getting shot down, but evading gunfire becomes increasingly difficult as the tall, snow-capped pine trees grow denser.
“Get ready to deploy,” Dr. Invictus says, opening the bay doors. “Defender, Ronin, and Nightshade, I want you three to board the train directly. Break through the defenses and try to find the cargo hold. Demoness, Titan, I want the two of you to fly ahead of the train; according to our readings, there should be a bottleneck approaching from which the two of you could stop the train. Fastball, start to evacuate Soloksev; I don’t care how you do it, but just get the civilians out of harm’s way. I’ll follow the strike team out once everyone has deployed.”
“What about me?” Kaiju asks.
“Kaiju, I don’t know how the people will react when they see an alien,” Dr. Invictus says. “They’ve almost certainly already heard about what has happened in San Francisco and Haven, so it might be better for you to stay on the Falcon.”
“If you think that is best,” Kaiju says.
“Drop point’s coming up,” Defender says. “Doc, the controls are yours.”
“Strike team, you are clear to drop,” Dr. Invictus says.
The strike team drops out of the Falcon and onto the train; their inertia almost sends them flying off the train, but they manage to latch on. Ronin stabs his sword into the side of the train, sliding backwards and cutting a gash in the side of the train until he comes to a halt. Nightshade fires a grapnel arrow into the train; it pierces, but she still slams painfully into the side of the train, her grip on her crossbow the only thing preventing her from splattering on the icy, snow-covered rocks and dirt. Defender manages to hit the top of the train, but the train is moving so fast it yanks itself out from under him. He flies off the train and is about to meet a grisly demise on the tracks when he fires his grappling hook and finds purchase on one of the train’s door’s latches.
“Fastball, your turn,” Dr. Invictus says.
Fastball taps his helmet twice for luck before sprinting out of the Falcon at full speed, running fast enough to not be caught by the pull of gravity. He eases his speed down gradually until he feels the snow and rocks beneath his feet, at which point he starts sprinting again. The fastest man in the galaxy makes it to Soloksev in less than five seconds; he does not even bother trying to make an announcement to get the people of Soloksev to evacuate, instead he just takes them one at a time to a nearby mountain. It takes him two minutes to get every man, woman, child, and pet out of Soloksev.
“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” Fastball says, surveying the empty street around him.
Suddenly, a tin can hits him in the back of the head. He whips around, annoyed, to see two young Caucasian adults, a boy and a girl, standing to face him. They have the same pale blue eyes, so Fastball assumes that they are siblings. The boy has dark hair and is huge, not quite as tall as Titan, but his arms and torso bulge with much more muscle, like a bodybuilder. He has a scar running from his left temple all the way down to his chin; the scar passes through one of his eyes, but whereas the scarred one should be dull and grey, the scarred one is silver with a chrome pupil.
The girl is blonde and a little taller than average and seems to be the one who threw the tin can. She is not swollen with muscle like her brother, but she is not out of shape either. Her body shape makes Fastball think of a female soccer player, flat-chested and corded with wiry muscle, but her face, although it normally would have been pretty, is disfigured by her permanently pursed lips, as if she is always slightly distasteful of whatever she is looking at.
“There are nicer ways to say hello,” Fastball says.
The siblings say nothing.
“Is there a reason you’re throwing tin cans at me?” Fastball asks. “I mean, it looks like you two could manage to throw something a lot more painful than a tin can.”
The boy looks down to his sister, who gives him a single nod. Confirmation for something, obviously. The boy cracks his knuckles and begins to walk towards Fastball.
“Whoa, buddy,” Fastball says. “You’ve got no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“I know exactly who I’m up against, Fastball,” the boy spits. He has a thick East European accent, but speaks English quite fluently.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” Fastball asks.
“We haven’t met personally, no,” the girl answers in the same accent as her brother, albeit her voice is in a higher octave than his. “But we have met what you stand for time and time again.”
“There must be some kind of misunderstanding,” Fastball says. “I stand for drug-induced hallucinations and naked girls.”
“Really?” the girl asks sarcastically. “So you had no idea that S.A.B.R.E. dispatched death squads to kill our parents and most of our relatives simply because they were born as superhumans?”
“I had no part in that,” Fastball says. “Plus, that S.A.B.R.E. is gone. The new one is pretty fuego.”
“We know,” the boy says. “But you work with S.A.B.R.E. and we need to send them a message. Maybe your head will do.”
Fastball has seen some interesting things during his time on Earth. What he sees next goes to the top of his list. The boy’s skin turns into metal as he charges at Fastball. One moment he is just a normal human, and the next he is the same silver color as his eye. Obviously surprised by this, Fastball is caught off guard and does not react in time to avoid the boy’s punch. The blow is similar to getting hit by a dump truck, sending Fastball flying across the street. He tries to s
tand, but he is held down by something. He looks around for whatever is holding him down and sees the girl; her eyes have rolled into the back of her head so now they only show the whites. She is muttering something and several strange symbols have arisen in front of her, written in some kind of purple energy. Whatever she is doing immobilizes him so her hulking brother can pick him up by the scruff of his neck and repeatedly pound him in the face with his shiny metal fist. After about six punches, Fastball’s helmet begins to cave in and his lenses crack, then shatter. The boy then hurls Fastball down the street even farther, where he painfully comes to a halt by hitting a car.
Fastball stands up shakily and pulls off his now-useless helmet, tossing it aside. The siblings are advancing towards him at a walking pace and not a care in the world. The girl’s eyes are still white, but she seems to be able to see perfectly fine.
“Oh, this is going to hurt, isn’t it?” Fastball asks as he finds himself immobilized again.
“It will,” the girl promises. “But I think that we should put a name to your pain. I am Natalia Rykov and this is my brother, Dmitri.”
“Jesus Hamburglar Christ,” Fastball says as Dmitri pulls back his fist to swing.
In the snowy bottleneck that the train will pass through, Demoness and Titan are lying on their bellies in the snow, waiting for the train. Evidently, the strike team is doing a good job of keeping the train operators occupied because they have been waiting for over an hour.
“I’m bored,” Demoness complains.
“Mm-hm,” Titan responds, deep in thought.
Demoness rolls onto her back and looks at the empty tracks while upside down, “Well, at least the view has changed.
She rolls onto her belly again, “Now it’s back.”
She rolls again, “And now it’s changed. And now it’s back. And now it’s changed. And now it’s back. You should try this some time; it’s actually really entertaining.”
As Titan keeps lookout for the train, Demoness continues to roll back and forth, quite pleased with discovering her new hobby.