by Stan Lee
Carlos reached back and activated a screen. A muted newscast came on, showing a pretty blonde woman sitting before a stock image of Tamu Massif and a map of Japan. The headline read DISASTER AVERTED.
“Seismic levels have returned to normal,” Carlos said. “I’m in touch with the Hawaii and Catania volcano institutes, but they’ve downgraded the situation to a wait-and-see.”
“Looks like the world dodged a bullet,” Steven replied. “What about all those mind-controlled soldiers at Lystria?”
“Reviewing the reports from Malik’s team, I’d say they only got a mild dose of the Dragon’s mind-altering power. With the creature gone and the Lystria complex destroyed, they’ve returned to their normal state.”
“Meaning they’re a small army of confused mercenaries with no boss and no special powers.” Steven nodded. “I think we can handle them.”
“Of that,” Carlos replied, “I have no doubt.”
On the screen, the newscast zoomed in on the underwater volcano. A pile of rubble laid still, all that remained of Tamu Massif. No quakes shook the ocean floor.
And yet…
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Steven said. “At the end, Mince tried to reactivate the volcano machinery. But the tech didn’t work. Why?”
“Maybe all that Dragon energy shorted it out.” Carlos frowned. “Or possibly it was the explosives from the drill-ship.”
“Yeah. But…she was always so meticulous. Had every angle covered.”
“Hell, maybe the circuitry got flooded with seawater.” Carlos held up the bronze cube. “Some things, we may never know.”
Carlos paused, as if considering his own words. He stood up and crossed to a high table. He set down the cube and donned a pair of reading glasses. Then he picked up a small analyzer, thumbing it to life.
Suddenly, Steven felt like an intruder.
“Well,” he said. “I better go say good-bye to my parents.”
“Oh, they left early this morning.”
“What?”
Typical, he thought. They couldn’t even say good-bye. And I actually thought we were getting somewhere….
“They dropped off a few analysis tools that may prove useful. Oh, and they left this for you.”
Without looking up, Carlos tossed a small metal object over his shoulder. Steven almost fumbled the catch. It was a flash drive.
When he looked back, Carlos was running the analyzer over the impassive metal cube. “I’ll get her back,” he said, almost too quietly for Steven to hear. “She never gave up on me; I won’t give up on her.”
Steven turned away, clutching the flash drive.
“I know you won’t,” he said.
The classroom two floors below was also empty. Steven didn’t even turn on the lights. He took a seat, drew in a deep breath, and plugged the flash drive into a computer.
His father’s face filled the screen. Mr. Lee looked the same as always: perfectly groomed, stern, disapproving.
“Steven,” Mr. Lee said, “as you know by now, we have already departed. Events dictated this change in our schedule.”
Events, Steven thought. Events like your need to avoid dealing with your son.
“The destruction of Lystria has left a power vacuum in Maxwell’s business operations,” Mr. Lee continued. “I—we—intend to fill that vacuum.”
Steven frowned. That was an unpleasant thought.
“Malosi will continue to assist us,” Mr. Lee said. “He is already at work on several new projects that…well, you will hear of them shortly.”
Malosi! Perfect, Dad. Why don’t you just disown me and get it over with?
“Right now, however, I wanted to tell you something. And I thought it was best said this way, rather than face to face.”
Of course.
“We have not always been easy on you, Steven. As your mother has said, that is because of our high hopes, our belief that you can become something greater than you are. As parents, it is both our right and our obligation to promote that growth through whatever means we deem best.”
Steven turned away, rolling his eyes. Is this an apology? Or an excuse?
“I told you I believed you had accomplished nothing. With your gifts, your privileges, your great power.” Mr. Lee’s voice changed, dropped sharply in pitch. “I was wrong.”
Steven whirled back to face the screen.
“When you reached out to that girl…that strange, cruel girl inside the volcano…you made a great leap. She had tried to kill you, menaced your mother and me, committed hideous crimes against the world. And yet you tried to save her.”
“I…” Steven spoke, his mouth dry. “I failed, though. I didn’t save Mince.”
“You tried,” his father repeated, as if he’d heard Steven’s words. “That is what matters. For one moment, you broke through her lifetime of pain and anguish. You also delayed her plans long enough for your friends to arrive and stop the Dragon.”
On the screen, Mr. Lee paused. Steven felt uncomfortable, as if the two of them were actually in the same room, having an awkward conversation.
“In that moment,” Mr. Lee continued, “I was very, very proud of you.”
Steven blinked, stunned.
“Your mother says to stay warm.” The screen went blank.
He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even move. He just sat in the dark, drinking in the silence.
Another cycle broken, he thought.
Kim appeared with a poof, scaring the hell out of him. He nearly fell off his chair.
“There you are!” She reached out and yanked him to his feet. “Come on. We’re late!”
Before he could protest, she was dragging him into the hall. For someone so physically small, Kim was disturbingly strong when she set her mind to something.
“Hey,” he said, struggling to keep up as she strode down the hall. “How’s your dad?”
“Huh? Oh, he’s doing better.” She kept moving. “They probably don’t need to stay here much longer.”
“Then…did you mean what you said?” He hesitated. “In the volcano?”
“What? Which volcano?”
“The first volcano.” He held out a hand to stop her. “You said we’d go away together. To see the wild animals.”
She stopped, puzzled. Then she saw the earnest expression in his eyes, and she burst out laughing. Before he knew what was happening, she jumped up and kissed him on the lips. It was a quick peck, over in less than a second. But it meant something.
“Of course. Of course we will!” She punched him in the arm. “But right now we’re late for—oh, come on….”
She grabbed hold of him and leaped into the air. They disappeared with a poof.
Steven stumbled, disoriented, as they poofed into the training room—which had been completely transformed. Festive lights hung from the high ceiling, bathing the room in multicolored patterns. People milled around: civilians, Zodiacs, even a few formerly mind-controlled Vanguard soldiers invited by Malik and Josie.
“Look!” Kim cried.
On the far side of the room, a stage had been constructed. Roxanne paced back and forth across it. She wore tight jeans and a black T-shirt with the Zodiac logo on it, a guitar strap slung over her shoulder. Behind her, another guitarist, a bass player, and a drummer laid down a powerful electric sound.
“That’s her old band,” Steven said, astonished. “Les Poules.”
“Victoryyyyy,” Roxanne sang, projecting into the microphone with every fiber of her being, “over the forces of…”
“What’s this song about?” Steven yelled, struggling to be heard over the music.
“Saving the whales, probably!” Kim was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Isn’t this cool?”
“Oi!” Liam pushed his way through the crowd, holding out three plastic cups. “You two kids care for a nonalcoholic beverage?”
Steven took a cup and frowned. The liquid in it was bright blue. “What is this?”
“I call it Dr
agon Punch,” Liam replied. “Looks nasty, but it goes down pretty fast.”
Kim downed hers in one gulp. “Take that, Dragon!”
Steven laughed.
“Everybody’s here!” Liam said. “Rox even gave Nicky and Josie jobs as roadies!”
He pointed to the stage. Nicky, in full Dog form, had hefted a huge amplifier onto his back and was lugging it from one side of the stage to the other.
“He said he wanted a job!” Steven said.
“I offered to play percussion!” Liam said. “Bloody Rooster turned me down. Blasted me into a wall with her power, in fact.”
The song ended with a flourish. The room erupted in applause. Steven saw Malik in the audience, talking with Mags, Billy, and Dafari. Onstage, Josie helped Nicky rearrange the drum set.
Celine, the enigmatic Snake, stood alone across the room. She caught Steven’s eye and raised her cup in a silent toast. Then she smiled and turned back toward the stage.
“Thank you!” Roxanne cried. Her amplified voice echoed through the room. “And now I’d like to play a very special number….It’s dedicated to all my teammates.” She pointed the microphone out into the audience. “Especially Mr. Steven Lee.”
A spotlight played across the room and picked out Steven. He cringed in mock terror.
The lights dimmed. The band launched into a new song: a softer, slower piece. Roxanne’s eyes seemed to light up with a deep, warm confidence. She grabbed the microphone and leaned forward.
“Justice,” she sang. “There must be justice in this worrrrrrld….”
Kim clapped her hands.
Liam frowned. “What’s so special about this one?”
“I know,” Steven said. “It’s the song she was playing when Jasmine and I first met her.”
Duane approached, tapping on a tablet computer. “Madness,” he muttered. “I cannot make this work….”
“Duane!” Liam clapped him on the back. “Put down the Zodiac business for one night, man!”
“This isn’t Zodiac business.” Duane looked up. “I’m planning Roxanne’s tour schedule.”
“She’s going on tour?” Steven asked.
“She wants to do three shows a night.” Duane clicked the tablet off in disgust. “Impossible!”
“With justiiiiiice,” Roxanne sang, “all is possible….”
Steven reached over and took Kim’s hand. She squeezed his hand and moved closer to him. He leaned down to speak into her ear.
“The last time Roxanne played this song,” he said, gesturing up at the stage, “her power started a riot.”
“She’s learned to control it,” Kim replied. “Maybe she can be a hero and lead a normal life, too.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe we all can.”
The song segued into a long instrumental bridge. Liam moved in closer to Kim and Steven. “I hear you two are takin’ a break,” he said. “What’s next?”
Kim and Steven exchanged blank looks.
“After that,” Duane elaborated. “What do we do now? The team, I mean?”
Steven looked out over the sea of people. Zodiacs and Vanguards; scientists and soldiers; powered people and civilians. All dancing, laughing, celebrating the victory they’d fought so hard to win.
The cycle, he thought. It’s finally broken.
“Anything,” he said, squeezing Kim’s hand tight. “We can do anything we want.”
MONKEY SAT, DEJECTED, munching on his last banana. His long toes gripped one of the metal arms that had once stretched above the Lystria complex; now it was just a jagged strut hanging precariously from the remains of a control tower. The central building had completely collapsed into the abyss.
Smoke rose from the deep hole, thick and foul-smelling. Monkey lifted a long finger, following the gray trail as it flowed up into the sky. “It won’t go out,” he muttered.
“Maybe it’s the fires beneath the earth,” said someone with a lilting voice. “The ones our dear departed Dragon tried to harness.”
Monkey rolled his eyes. He looked toward the edge of the abyss, knowing what he’d see. A short hooded figure scuttled along the metallic strut, headed toward him.
Rat.
“On the other hand,” Rat continued, “maybe it’s the souls of Lystria’s dead. They’re finally free of Maxwell.”
“Shut up,” Monkey said. But he could barely work up enough energy for an argument.
“Sorry,” Rat said, a smirk creeping over his face. “I shouldn’t have mentioned Maxwell.”
“He was a great man,” Monkey muttered. “And now he’s gone.”
“Yeah…well…” Rat reached into his coat. “I had a little to do with that.”
He pulled out a ragged circuit board with a few wires hanging loose. Monkey stared at it and shook his head in irritation. “What’s that?”
“Main control board for the Tamu Massif installation,” Rat said. “Took a bit of doing. But no matter how sophisticated the tech, all it takes is one Rat to muck up the works.” He mimed a vicious chewing motion.
Monkey looked closer. The circuit board had visible bite marks on it.
He looked at Rat, astonished. “Why? Why would you betray Maxwell?”
“He wasn’t Maxwell. Not anymore.”
Monkey turned away, but Rat scuttled over next to him. The strut dipped slightly under their combined weight.
“Come on,” Rat said. “This is exciting! Maxwell’s gone; the cycle has been broken. We can do anything we want.”
“I just want him back.”
“There’s technology here that I’ve never even seen before.” Rat pointed down at the remains of the complex. “Now it’s all ours.”
Monkey looked down. Little men dressed like Rat bustled all around the edges of the hole, pulling out equipment and salvaging pieces of the damaged machines. One of them pried a computer screen free of a fallen piece of control tower, squealed in delight, and vanished into the shadows with his prize.
Ratlings, Rat called the men. Monkey didn’t like them. They gave him the creeps.
“Evil never dies, you know,” Rat continued. “Take you, for instance. Maxwell created you, in a way, by altering your mind to make you loyal to him. Now he’s gone. If you wanted, you could replace him.”
“I don’t wanna replace him,” Monkey grumbled.
He tossed his banana peel into the hole. It disappeared in the smoke.
“Wait a minute,” he said, turning sharply to Rat. “Do you wanna take Maxwell’s place? To run Vanguard?”
“Honestly? I haven’t decided.”
Monkey shook his head. That was the trouble with talking to Rat; all you got was riddles. You never knew which side he was really on.
Monkey looked down again, into the burning hole in the desert. He wished he could be like the smoke, rising into the sky. Free to fly, free to go wherever he wanted.
Rat was staring at him.
“Let me ask you a question,” Rat said. “Something your precious Maxwell would never have thought to ask.”
Monkey threw up his long arms. “What?”
Rat’s beady eyes seemed to bore into him. Those eyes weren’t cruel, though. They seemed to burn with a strange, urgent curiosity.
“What do you want?”