by Alex Irvine
The two old enemies—once friends—glared at each other.
“Chuck’s probably right,” Logan said. “Plus, Mags? You’re not wearing your helmet.”
Magneto turned his furious glare on Logan. But he did not strike Wasp’s ship down.
Okay, then, Logan thought. Let’s make a plan.
TWENTY-THREE
SPIDER-MAN had been in some tough spots in his life, but Peter Parker couldn’t think of any situation worse than where he was at the moment: buried under a whole mountain range on a faraway planet, wedged into a tiny, almost airless space alongside the Fantastic Four and the Avengers with only the Hulk’s strength between them and oblivion. Banner strained under the weight of the tons of rock above, bracing it just enough to keep all of them from being squashed into little puddles of goo. What air there was smelled kind of like the bottom of a laundry hamper.
Spectrum lit up the space with a pale glow from her hands as the group ran through all its options. “There’s not enough air for me to flame on and burn my way out,” Johnny Storm said. “And I’m not sure I could do it, anyway. Think a couple of my ribs are broken from the fight. “ He paused for breath. “I’m having a little trouble here, guys.”
“I could get us out, but I don’t think anyone wants me to stop holding up the mountain,” said the Hulk. He looked down at his cousin, who could’ve helped if she’d been, well, conscious.
Reed, who had taken a bump on the head and was just now recovering his senses, said, “What resources do we have? Rhodes, you must have a tool kit in the suit. Who else has anything mechanical? Spider-Man, give me your web shooters. Hawkeye, the electronics in your arrowheads. Anything. Let me get a look at it and see what I can do.”
“Better hurry up,” Spidey said. “Hulk looks like he’s breaking a sweat. You getting wimpy on us, Greenie?”
“Shut up,” Hulk said.
Spider-Man continued, watching the green giant carefully. “I’m just saying, you talk like you’re the strongest person who’s ever lived—but man, now we really need you, and I dunno. I’m thinking we might all be splat any second. You need to get in the weight room, buddy, and I say that as a friend.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hawkeye asked.
“Wrong with me?” Spidey said. “I’m in tip-top form. But holding up mountains isn’t in my job description. Catching crooks, protecting the innocent, that’s my gig. This guy,” he cocked a thumb at the Hulk, “is supposed to be the strong one. But look at him.”
Reed caught his eye and gave him a subtle nod. That’s right, Spidey thought. You know what I’m doing. If we don’t keep the Hulk’s strength up, there’s no way we make it through the next few minutes. And the madder he gets…
While inspecting the Iron Man armor, Reed got in on the act. “This suit is more technologically advanced than I’d suspected,” he said. “It’s humbling, really. I consider myself fairly intelligent, as you all know, but seeing Tony Stark’s workmanship here hammers home just how brilliant he is.”
“You shut up, too, Richards!” Hulk snarled. “I’m tired of hearing about how brilliant you are, and how brilliant Stark is! You hear me? This is the stupid Hulk talking, the one who’s holding up the mountain so you and your brilliant brain don’t die!”
“Oh, poor you,” Reed said. “So buried in your own self-pity, whining and crying all the time about how nobody gives you credit for Banner’s brains. Well, I hate to tell you this, Hulk, but we don’t need your brains. We need your muscles. Keep using them, and stop wasting your breath complaining.”
“You arrogant bastard!” Hulk thundered, loud enough that small pieces of rock shook loose and rattled down among them. “You know I’m losing my intellect, don’t you? And you think you can talk to me like the idiot monster I’m going to become again? Well, you better hope whatever plan your brilliant brain is coming up with fails, because I’m going to tear you into little bloody brilliant pieces if we get out of here!”
“That’s it, Hulk old buddy,” Spidey said. “Stoke that furnace. Even if you’re not going to be smart anymore, we’ll still love you.”
“Once I smear Richards all over the outside of this mountain, I’m coming for you next,” the Hulk snarled. “You’re all going to be sorry.”
“I’m sure,” Reed said. “All right. I think I’ve got this figured out. Spectrum, hold this relay. It will feed your power through the repulsor conduits in Iron Man’s armor. Rhodes, on my go, fire those repulsors at full force.”
“Um, backlash?” Hawkeye asked.
“Get behind Hulk’s legs, as many of you as possible,” Captain America said. “I’ll wedge in front of you, and we’ll just have to trust my shield.”
“My armor ought to soak up some of the shock, too,” Rhodey said. “And hey, it’s better than the alternative.”
“Watch it,” Hulk snapped as the rest of the team shoved its way under him.
“Ready?” Reed said.
“Ready,” Rhodes acknowledged.
“Wait a sec,” Spidey said. He thought he’d heard a small clink. “Was that a tap from outside?”
“Aim that way, Rhodes,” Reed said. “And fire when ready.”
The blast burned into Spidey’s eyes like an atom bomb and his ears rung from the concussion. Daylight flooded in through the borehole Rhodey had carved out—and lo and behold, there was a human figure there, covered in dust from the explosion. Who…? Spidey couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Thor!” he said.
“I knew you were within,” Thor said. “Yet the mightiest blows of Mjolnir could only knock away so much stone at a time.”
Spidey sidled up to Hulk and said, “Don’t kill me.”
“Why not?” Hulk didn’t look at him.
“I was just, you know—”
“Yes. I know. You were just trying to keep me angry so I could hold up the mountain and keep you alive. Then Richards got in on the act. Fine. It worked. I’m not stupid, you know.” Then Hulk looked down at Spider-Man, and the sadness on his face made Peter ashamed of himself. “At least not yet.”
“We thought the Enchantress had…you know, spirited you away,” Cap was saying to Thor.
“’Tis a tale long in the telling,” Thor said.
“And what happened to your cape?” Peter asked.
“Another tale, thankfully shorter. The automaton, Ultron, has a new weapon. Doom thought to test it on me, but I called down lightning to disguise my escape. The discharge of the weapon blinded them, and I dodged Ultron’s deadly blast…yet I fear my cape and helmet were not so fortunate. There is an armorer, and a tailor, in Asgard who will have new work when next I see my home.”
Thor’s cheery attitude, in the midst of all the chaos and looming disaster, made Spider-Man feel a bit better about their prospects. Heck, someone has to win, he thought. Why can’t it be us?
“What do we do next?” Rhodes asked.
“We need a new base of operations,” Cap said. “Spectrum, can you—”
Her form seemed to flicker for a moment, and she smiled. “Already did. Our base is a total loss, but there’s an alien village of some kind a few miles that way.” She pointed. “Let’s get there and figure out what’s next. We need to get Johnny and She-Hulk healed somehow.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Johnny. He coughed and then grimaced with pain. “Can someone give me a lift? I don’t think I can walk it.”
TWENTY-FOUR
THE ALIEN village Spectrum had located had one problem—namely that Galactus was towering over it from the top of a nearby mountain. Johnny didn’t like having the Devourer of Worlds looking down on them—but on the other hand, Galactus didn’t seem to notice much. He was just staring off into space, keeping some mysterious vigil. Hard to tell what he was doing, or not doing. The important thing was, Galactus wasn’t eating the planet they were on. At least not at the moment.
Johnny’s injury was worse than he’d let on. The truth was, he could feel his broken ribs digging arou
nd his insides. He couldn’t take deep breaths at all. His arm was probably broken, too. If they didn’t find some kind of doctor at this village, Johnny had a feeling he wouldn’t be worrying about the Beyonder problem for much longer—and he sure wouldn’t be any good in a fight.
When the heroes reached the village outskirts, they halted as dozens of aliens came running out to meet them. A fierce argument between residents broke out immediately; it wasn’t hard to guess the topic, even though their language consisted of unfamiliar strings of weird liquid vowels and diphthongs. Are they dangerous? Do we let them in? Why not? Hell, no! The discussion went on like that for a while, the heroes standing respectfully silent, until a young female alien stepped forward and gestured them onward to the village center.
The aliens were orange-hued humanoids with white hair and slitted pupils. Their flowing attire looked a bit like purple pajamas, Johnny thought with the start of a laugh that ended abruptly with a shooting pain in his lower ribcage. The village buildings were all white and circular-shaped with domed roofs, like adobe lighthouses with upside-down mixing bowls on the tops. He couldn’t begin to guess the climate in which this style of building had evolved, and he didn’t much care. The pain was getting to him.
The female alien who had invited them in directed the group straight to a central plaza, where Johnny limped to a curved, white slab. Hulk laid the unconscious She-Hulk down on the one next to it. So they had found a type of alien hospital, it looked like—and when their guide placed her hands on him, Johnny knew it for sure. Warm, tingling energy spread through his torso, and he felt his ribs knit back together instantly. Bam, like magic—or rather, alien healing technology, which it must have been. Another touch from her hands set his arm right again.
The alien healer murmured something to him then, and Johnny replied, “Same to you, gorgeous.” She was, too, he now noticed. Silver haired, cat-eyed, like something out of Captain Kirk’s dreams. “I think I’m in love,” he said.
Rhodey snorted. It was a weird sound coming from inside the Iron Man helmet. “Stay classy, Torch,” he said.
“I’m serious, man,” Johnny said. He sat up to watch her walk over to put her healing touch on She-Hulk and the rest of his injured teammates. Her impression lingered in his thoughts with the afterglow of her healing warmth, like she’d done something to his mind as well as his body.
Suddenly, the whole situation—the trip to another galaxy, the Beyonder’s strange decree, almost being crushed by a mountain— seemed worth the danger. Johnny knew he had a reputation as a ladies’ man, and he’d earned it, but this was different. This wasn’t casual. His feelings were real. He wasn’t used to experiencing raw emotion. “Hey,” he said to her. He didn’t know how he planned to follow up, since they didn’t speak a common language, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to talk to the healer. Needed her to glance back at him.
She turned and smiled, and Johnny felt like he was twelve years old again and in the grip of his first debilitating crush.
Then Johnny heard Ben Grimm yelling. He jumped up. “Don’t go anywhere, beautiful,” he said to the healer, right before he ran in the direction of Ben’s voice. Duty called.
The first thing he noticed was Ben’s orange, rocky exterior. He’d become the Thing again. “Son of a—what in the blue blazes is wrong with me?” Ben moaned. “I turned human at the worst possible time, and now I’m a monster again? Why?”
Next to him, Reed looked confused. He stretched his long arms out around Ben’s broad shoulders. “I’m not sure, Ben,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”
Ben shrugged Reed off and went stomping away deeper into the village. Johnny watched him go. “Man, Reed,” he said. “Tough break. What do you think’s going on?”
“Like I said, Johnny, I don’t know. We’ll have to figure it, just like everything else here. It’ll be okay.”
Reed looked like he was about to say more, but then a motion above them caught everyone’s attention. Johnny looked up. At his side, Reed said, “Oh, no.”
Up on top of the mountain overlooking the village, Galactus moved. He lifted his head, tilting his massive chin up as he scanned the skies over Battleworld. An immense spaceship appeared, far away in the distant universe but somehow so massive as to be visible to the naked eye. “What is that thing, Reed?” Cap asked.
“I should have known,” Reed said.
“Known what?”
“I should have known that sooner or later, Galactus would get hungry again.”
The villagers watched the ship appear to grow as it flew closer to Battleworld, until finally it seemed to spread across the sky with no end in sight. The ship was shaped like a cornered infinity symbol, its two loops millions of miles long. “It’s the size of a solar system,” Spider-Man said.
The villagers argued and cried out with fear. They looked to Reed and the others for a signal, probably thinking that the heroes had somehow caused the change in the giant on the mountaintop. The healer stood apart, her eyes wide with terror. Johnny tried to reassure her. “I know you don’t understand what I’m saying, but don’t worry, pretty lady,” he said. “We’ll be all right.”
She took his hand, and a euphoric tingle enveloped Johnny, like a barrier in his mind was falling away. “Jah-nee,” she enunciated slowly. She held one hand to her chest. “Zsaji,” she said. “Oh-kay?”
“Zah-shee,” Johnny said. That was her name. They’d made some kind of connection, shared a moment of intangible intimacy that he couldn’t describe. “Yeah, Zsaji. It’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Will we?” Hawkeye asked. “How exactly do we plan to do that?”
Reed interrupted. “Galactus might help us on that front. That ship is his home. We don’t know why he brought it here. Perhaps he called it here to challenge the Beyonder.”
If that were the case, Johnny felt a bit better about their chances. At least now they knew the rest of the universe was still out there, since the ship still existed. And if Galactus could call it to him, that meant his powers were undiminished. They might not match the Beyonder’s, but the Fantastic Four had learned a long time ago never to underestimate Galactus as an enemy. Perhaps the Beyonder was about to learn the same lesson.
At least the Human Torch hoped so.
TWENTY-FIVE
XAVIER, Magneto, and the X-Men watched in quiet awe as Galactus’ spaceship blotted out much of the sky over Battleworld. “I have telepathically gleaned important information from the mind of Reed Richards,” Xavier said. “This ship is the home of Galactus. Richards believes it assists Galactus in his consumption of planetary energies, but any vessel of such size likely has multiple functions. We cannot know for certain why Galactus has brought it to Battleworld.”
“Well, that’s all well and good,” Rogue said, “but what are we going to do?”
“You and Rogue will take a ship with the others and prepare for hostile action on Galactus’ part,” Magneto commanded. “Xavier and I will undertake a more subtle approach. You heard me. Go.”
“Since when are you giving the orders around here?” Wolverine growled, his claws extended and his stance battle-ready.
Storm and Cyclops stood with Logan. Both had led the X-Men before, and Storm had occupied the leadership role at the time of their sudden transportation to Battleworld. Both doubtless considered themselves the most suited to lead now. “Listen to me,” Xavier said. “Until the matter of the Beyonder is settled, I lead the X-Men—here and in the field. If you wish to challenge me, do it now.”
No one did. But Xavier could feel discontent, flavored with outright hostility, bristling from several of his charges. None of them understands this situation the way I do, he thought. I alone can steer them through this.
“Please do as Magneto has instructed,” he said. “There is no time for dissent.”
When they had gone, he turned to Magneto and said, “You must be careful. The members of my team are not your subordinates. They are accustomed to
a measure of autonomy, and are deserving of respect. By making a show of imperiousness, you sow the seeds of rebellion.”
Magneto stared at Xavier. His face was shadowed by his helmet, and his expression was unreadable. After a moment he said only, “Let us get on with it, Charles.” And with that, the Master of Magnetism strode away.
*
Owen strolled happily with his lady love, the sublime Volcana, through the gardens of Doombase. They were a nice change from glass and steel. The plants and flowers were unfamiliar, doubtless replicated from some database of flora native to the planet from which this part of Battleworld had been torn.
They had been sharing confidences and getting to know each other. He told her of his childhood difficulties as a small, bookish boy. She understood, having been something of a wallflower for most of her life. She talked of her newfound confidence and empowerment, of adjusting to this strong body and towering height, of the thrill she got from wearing only a simple gymnast’s leotard without the need to wonder whether it was her style or fit properly. Some of the coarser members of the team—the Wrecking Crew, Absorbing Man—watched and snickered. “What a couple,” Piledriver said as the lovebirds walked by. “Wimpy and his best girl, Big Bertha.”
Owen turned to face Piledriver. “What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing,” Piledriver said. The others continued to snicker and whisper.
“One more word,” Volcana said, her fists closing tightly. “Just one more, and…”
“Oh, yes, ma’am, Miz Nerd. Evening, Mister Nerd,” Piledriver said mockingly.
That word.
Owen had heard it one time too many, the word that had dogged him since he was a child. Then, after the accident, when his powers had manifested themselves, he had been mocked for his inability to master them. Freak. Dork. Geek. He had heard them all, and he had learned to deal with them all—except one.
Nerd.
“Who said that word?” Owen said, looking Piledriver right in the eyes.