Wonder Heroes 4.0

by Ahlquist, Steve

  Susan thought a moment before answering. “I’m not sure. It was different, but I’m new to fighting monsters.”

  The Professor harrumphed and sorted through his notes. “During the time Modesty and Innocence were active, suicides worldwide spiked.”

  Walter frowned and looked at the other scientists. This was entirely new information. “What kind of spike are we talking about?”

  “On the order of six hundred percent,” said Professor Roh, holding a sheet out for Walter to peruse. As Susan read over his shoulder, Walter scanned the data. The actual number was slightly more than the Professor had suggested.

  Susan inhaled sharply. “That’s in response to the activation of the Neboukichan? How is that possible?”

  Professor Roh smiled a humorless smile. “These creatures are the avatars of nihilism. They work on the spiritual as well as physical realm, tearing at our very souls. Do you recall your emotions while battling them?”

  “Like I said, I’m still new to all this battling monsters stuff,” said Susan, “but it’s possible that I felt something…” She searched for the right word, and selected one that did not fit perfectly, but seemed as close as her vocabulary could get. “…darker at work.”

  Walter searched his feelings. “I may have felt something as well, but the feelings evaporated quickly when the monsters fell.”

  Professor Roh nodded. “That makes sense. Upon the destruction of the Neboukichan the oppressive nihilism should fall away, leaving an almost euphoric sense of relief.” The Professor proffered another sheet of data, “World wide, people reported feeling an extreme sense of well being after the robots demise.”

  Walter frowned at this. “This data is suspect. Who wouldn’t be relieved to hear that a threat to the safety of the world was just vanquished? Such a sense of well-being might accompany any successful Wonder Hero intervention.”

  Professor Roh nodded. “True, but these results held true even among people who did not know of the attacks until long after they were over. These results hold true for people who were asleep during the attacks, with reports of nightmares suddenly blooming into euphoric dreams.” The old man smiled and said, “I stand by my research.”

  Professor Roh paused to collect his thoughts as Walter, Susan and the assembled scientists thought through the implications of the research. “After the second Neboukichan event, authorities captured a Mr. Miyo Mabuki, a used car sales representative. When the police were through I was allowed, under your authority,” Here Professor Roh paused acknowledged Walter, “to interview him for several hours, over several days.”

  Professor Roh consulted his notes. “Mr. Mabuki claimed to be solely responsible for the twin attacks, but when I confronted him about the Kaiju Cult, he denied any knowledge of a present cult, and claimed only that he recited spells from an old map. Mr. Mabuki was lying to me.”

  “How do you know this?” asked Susan.

  “Because I am a very old man with much experience in determining when people are being truthful with me,” said Professor Roh, “Because my research indicates that it would take at least six people to perform the ritual that would activate a Neboukichan, and because when I asked him about his daughter, a Junko Mabuki, Miyo Mabuki became emotionally agitated. Also, the map, which I examined, contained only the most general information on anything but the location of the slumbering monsters. There was nothing there about activating or controlling them.”

  Walter thought about that for a moment. “Maybe I could talk to this Miyo Mabuki, get him to talk to me, tell me what I need to know,” said Walter, “There’s no price a man can demand that I can’t afford to pay…”

  Professor Roh shook his head. “Mr. Mabuki was found dead in his cell this morning. He hung himself. If he was indeed the only surviving member, then there is no cult.”

  “But you don’t think that’s the case, do you?” asked Susan.

  “No,” replied Professor Roh, “I do not. I believe the Kaiju Cult exists, and that they are planning to somehow activate the rest of the Neboukichan.”

  Walter was not happy. He had spent millions excavating the Neboukichan and assembling the science team, and everything he was learning about them was coming from a ninety-year-old Korean academic with no formal technical training. Ordinarily he would have dismissed the entire science team back to academia, and called in new experts with new ideas, but he did not want to put on a show that might somehow offend Susan’s American sensibilities. Instead he thanked them all and instructed the team to keep working, and left them to the science while he took Susan to lunch.

  On his motorcycle, with Susan hanging on, Walter left the airport and swerved through Tokyo traffic, switching lanes and passing with a confidence and speed that only annoyed the other drivers until they realized who he was. He was Tokyo’s favorite son, the man who designed his own battle armor to protect the world from alien invasion, the man who continually pushed back the frontiers of science with his daring brilliance, and the man who dated the most famous and powerful woman in the world, Susan Daystrom. Walter felt like the world belonged to him.

  Susan glanced at her gauntlet and patched communications through her Wonder Helmet to the radio in Walter’s motorcycle helmet. “I have an address for the daughter, Junko Mabuki.”

  “What are you thinking?” asked Walter, “That we go and talk to her?”

  “Why not?” said Susan, “Maybe she knows something about her father and the cult.”

  “I’ll have to change our lunch reservations…”

  “Walter,” said Susan, “you own the restaurant. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

  Walter laughed, and took a sharp corner, away from the restaurant. It was time to talk to Junko Mabuki.

  It was evening in New York. Theodore led Jay Parker and Kalomo Roman from his apartment in Greenwich Village and onto 5th Avenue, crowded with bars and nightclubs. Jay was in high spirits. The nightlife in this part of town catered to the large student population and young celebrities. Jay craned his neck to watch three female students crossing the street.

  “Dude,” said Jay, catching up to Theodore, “your apartment rocks, and you live in the middle of Babe Central.”

  Theodore smiled slightly and nodded. “It’s not bad.”

  In the weeks since Theodore revealed that he had hacked into the computer system to get himself on the list of potential Wonder Heroes even Jay had noticed a change in Theodore’s behavior and attitude. In some ways the experience seemed to have matured him in that he was more subdued and less prone to geek out, but at the same time Theodore had become less sociable, spending most of his free time at his new apartment here in New York.

  “New York’s cool,” said Kalomo, “ but it’s no Wonder Base.”

  “Good,” said Theodore, with a short derisive laugh.

  Kalomo had his own theory about Theodore’s darker moods. He knew that Theodore was developing feelings for Susan, but Susan had somehow fallen into a relationship with Walter Watanabe. Getting out of Wonder Base meant getting away from Susan.

  Theodore led his fellow Wonder Heroes past a long line of people waiting to get into a nightclub. The people waiting in line of course instantly recognized the three of them. Jay slowed his pace as a young woman with curly blonde hair and smoldering eyes caught his attention. The girl smiled and twirled her hair on her finger.

  “Are you going in? Can you get us in?” She smiled coyly. Jay noticed her two friends, smiling and giggling behind her. “I’d be grateful, superhero,” continued the girl, conjuring images in Jay’s mind that threatened to burst his skull.

  “I think I could…” began Jay, but Theodore tugged his sleeve.

  Theodore leaned in close to Jay’s ear, and said, too loudly, “Forget them, Jay. The really hot ones are already inside.”

  Pulled away, Jay looked at the blond girl, embarrassed by Theodore’s behavior, and slightly ashamed that he was letting himself be dragged away. The girl looked
hurt and disappointed, but seconds later she was out of sight, and forgotten.

  The bouncer let the Wonder Heroes in without a moment’s hesitation and with no cover charge. Inside was dark, but the Wonder Gauntlets they wore let them see a wider range of light frequencies than ordinary humans. A hostess with a sly smile and a small costume led the trio to the VIP area. Here Jay recognized a host from one of the Food Channels, and a woman he might have seen on a magazine cover at a supermarket checkout line once. The Wonder Heroes were the only A-list celebs in the club. Most of the people here were kids, students mostly, with rich parents or deep pocketed trust funds. Jay knew the type from his Stamford days, hell, he was the type.

  “This is sweet,” said Kalomo, as the hostess brought over three beers.

  “Complements of the ladies,” said the hostess, indicating three women seated against the wall. The Wonder Heroes looked over at three of the most beautiful women they had ever seen, waving and smiling.

  “Are they…” said Jay, looking for the word that had somehow vanished from his brain.

  “Models,” said Theodore, “didn’t I tell you?”

  Kalomo looked at the beer in his hand. He had never tried alcohol before, and was sure he did not want to start doing so here, tonight. “Anybody in this bar care that I’m only seventeen?”

  “You save the world every other day, Kalomo,” said Theodore, “you can do whatever you want.”

  “I want to do the cover of Sports Illustrated over there,” said Jay, smiling at the models.

  “You guys have fun,” said Kalomo, “I’m spoken for.”

  “Still?” asked Theodore, mockingly.

  Kalomo did not like Theodore’s tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Theodore raised his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean anything. Forget it.”

  “I have a good relationship, Theodore,” said Kalomo, “I love her, she loves me and she’s also a model.”

  Jay was almost fidgeting. “Can we get past this so I can go meet these girls?”

  “That’s great man, it really is,” Theodore said to Kalomo, leading Jay in the direction of the models, “But I couldn’t settle for one chick, no matter how hot. This gauntlet gives me the ability to have any woman I want.”

  “Except for Susan,” said Kalomo, regretting his words even as he said them.

  Theodore was two steps away before Kalomo’s words sank in. Kalomo had made the comment under his breath in a crowded, noisy nightclub, but of course the Wonder Gauntlet allowed Theodore to hear it clearly.

  Theodore turned and walked back towards Kalomo. Kalomo saw something in Theodore’s eyes he did not like, a rising anger he had never seen there before. Theodore took the beer out of Kalomo’s hand.

  “I don’t think the General wants to see his underage Wonder Hero getting drunk in public,” said Theodore, “Why don’t you run on home?”

  “I’m sorry, Theodore,” said Kalomo sincerely.

  Theodore’s mood shifted instantly. He nodded, smiled, and slapped Kalomo on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Kalomo. Really.”

  Kalomo returned the smile.

  Then Theodore turned serious again. “But you really should leave.”

  Theodore walked away to join Jay and the models. Kalomo looked around the nightclub, suddenly feeling very alone.

  Walter tossed the keys to his motorcycle to the door attendant outside the expensive Shogun Estates apartment building. Walter was surprised that the daughter of a used car sales representative, who was married to an unemployed grocery clerk, was living in one of the finest apartments in Tokyo. Inside the spacious lobby Susan told the attendant on duty that she was on official Wonder Heroes business. She then used her gauntlet to override the security codes and locks on the private elevator to the penthouse suite. Nobody questioned her authority. Walter wondered, with a pang of jealousy, if even someone of his accomplishment commanded such respect and trust.

  The elevator arrived at the top floor and opened into a short, wide, well-lit hallway decorated with dying, unwatered potted plants. Susan walked up to the door purposefully, but before she did anything, Walter touched her shoulder.

  “How should we approach this?” asked Walter.

  Susan shrugged her shoulders and pointed to the camera on the wall. “We’re just here to ask them some questions. I’m sure they see us coming.”

  The door to the apartment opened, and a short, slightly stocky Japanese man stood there, wearing a black flannel night robe, black silk pajamas, and slippers. He squinted at Susan and Walter through his glasses. As confusion gave way to recognition, surprise, fear and anger played across Hanzo’s face, but in the end Hanzo sported a cocky confidence and an amused grin.

  “Susan Daystrom?” asked Hanzo, “ And Walter Watanabe. To what do I owe this honor?”

  “Mr. Ueda…” Walter began, but Susan cut him off.

  “Can we come in? I have some questions for you and your wife.”

  As Hanzo stepped aside to let them in, Walter quietly stewed. In the lab, Susan was happy to follow Walter’s lead, but when she thought they were on Wonder Hero business, she expected Walter to step aside and accede to her presumed authority. This was, to Walter’s mind, the opposite of the way things should be. Susan and the other Wonder Heroes had been handed their armor and reputations; Walter had earned his.

  Walter forced himself to stifle his wounded pride and deal with the issue at hand. He did not really think this trip would prove useful: the police had interviewed the daughter shortly after the attacks and learned only that she and her father were estranged, and she only visited her father once in prison before his suicide.

  The apartment was cluttered with stuff. Books, clothes, gadgets and DVDs were littered about. The couch was set with its back to the amazing view of Tokyo out the penthouse window, and towards the widest consumer brand television available. The living room connected to the messy kitchen, and the sink was full of dishes. Susan kicked a pornographic DVD with her foot, and noticed the bag of marijuana on the coffee table.

  Hanzo pocketed the pot. “My apologies for the mess, the housekeeper is running late.”

  A woman, groggy from having just woken up, squinting at the morning light that poured in through the windows and wearing a semi-shear robe and little else, exited the bedroom that adjoined the living area opposite the kitchen and stared at the guests.

  “Who are you?” she asked, with unconcealed annoyance.

  Hanzo answered his wife for his guests. “Susan Daystrom. The Wonder Hero. She has questions about your father.”

  Walter drooped his shoulders. He was the richest man in the world, the most powerful man in Japan, and a self-made superhero, but in Susan’s presence he did not even rate an introduction.

  “This is my wife, Junko,” said Hanzo with a smile.

  Junko summoned some focus and clarity. “I told the police everything,” she said. Junko dropped onto the couch, pulled a blanket around her and closed her eyes. From beneath her she pulled a magazine and a remote control, tossing them on the floor.

  “What do you wish to know?” asked Hanzo.

  This time Walter spoke first, wishing to assert himself and not be ignored.

  “We have information that your father wasn’t working alone when he summoned the Neboukichan.” Walter shot a glance at Susan, who seemed undisturbed by Walter’s sudden domination of the questioning. Somehow this bothered him as well.

  “So?” challenged Junko, opening her eyes but not looking at her guests.

  “So you must know something you are not telling us.”

  “Mr. Watanabe,” said Hanzo, “Walter. Can I call you Walter?” Without waiting for confirmation, Hanzo continued, “My wife did not get along with her father at all. Whatever secrets her father had died with him. He wasn’t a sharing man.”

  Susan had moved behind the couch, ostensibly to take in the view, but she turned while Hanzo spoke, and shook her head. Walter
nodded, and Hanzo thought quickly. Susan must be using the gauntlet as some sort of lie detector. He had heard that this was within the abilities of the Wonder Heroes.

  Hanzo smiled.

  Weeks ago, the old Hanzo would have been terrified to be in this position. Two of the most powerful people in the world were grilling him about things they could not possibly understand. Hanzo suddenly realized that if these two superheroes understood anything of what he was, and what he planned, they would have come in guns blazing, whisking him off to rot in the catacombs of the Wonder Base or to die alone in a Japanese prison, but now he was the leader of the Kaiju Cult, a secret society that had remained in the shadows for over two millennia and patiently awaited his arrival.

  The two people in this room are not the most powerful people in the world, thought Hanzo, I am.

  “I think you are lying, Mr. Ueda,” said Walter, interrupting Hanzo’s thoughts. Hanzo relaxed. This was a conversation among equals.

  “Why would I lie, Mr. Watanabe?” said Hanzo smoothly, “Surely you do not think that we had anything to do with the recent disasters.”

  “The Wonder Gauntlets give me many abilities, Mr. Ueda, including enhanced senses and detection abilities,” said Susan.

  Hanzo turned, and nodded his head. “So I have heard.”

  “Because of this I can usually tell when someone is lying to me,” continued Susan, “Thermal imaging, heartbeat, and a hundred other data points can be gathered, and access to the Wonder Computer lets me interpret the data instantly.”

  “Is there a point to this?” asked Hanzo acting bored and defiant.

  Susan crossed the room and faced Hanzo, her face inches from his. The man did not flinch, and his certainty worried Susan, though she hid it well.

  “My job is to protect this planet,” said Susan, “and I think you feel it’s your job to destroy it.”

  Hanzo did not break eye contact. He shrugged and smiled. “You are correct, Susan, but good luck stopping me.”