MARVEL SUPER HEROES SECRET WARS

by Alex Irvine

  Doom set the final process in motion and watched. The machine’s broad cylindrical center appeared contained by a force field. A brilliant column of light appeared within, and at the same time Doom’s armor registered a change in the vibratory energy. It was reconfiguring itself.

  A shape slowly appeared within the containment cylinder.

  When the light faded, Doom could not explain the sight before him.

  There stood Ulysses Klaw in his red-and-purple uniform, once a man but now a being composed entirely of sound waves. “Doom! Where—?”

  “What are you doing here?” Doom demanded. “How have you come to be aboard Galactus’ ship?”

  “Doom?” Klaw repeated. “Doom, Doom, Doom…home! Home!”

  Is this truly Klaw? Doom considered the figure in front of him. Klaw had been a brilliant physicist, but this creature was unbalanced, raving like a lunatic. “Answer me, fool!” he commanded. “How is it you are here?”

  “Doom! Doom! I’m alive again?!” Klaw shrieked. The sound resonated throughout the room.

  “Quieter, Klaw,” Doom commanded. “You will alert Galactus.”

  “Oh, Galactus will know, he’ll know, he might already know…but if he knew, you would not be here, Doom, you’d already be dead. He took me, he…I was fighting…Dazzler!”

  Dazzler? Doom knew of that mutant, who absorbed sound and emitted light. He could see how she would have bested Klaw in a fight—the man had ability yet lacked cunning—but that did nothing to explain Klaw’s presence as a vibratory spirit on Galactus’ ship. “Dazzler, yes,” he prompted. “What about her?”

  “She…killed me!” Klaw howled. “Absorbed me until nothing was left! I was no longer sound, no longer Klaw, I was…energy! Then she blasted me at Galactus. She could not hurt him, not much, but a little of me was left.” He waved his arms frantically, and the silver of the sonic emitter that replaced his right hand reflected the light. “I washed over Galactus, through Galactus, and bled into the walls of this ship. I survived. I’m alive!” Klaw got his eyes focused on Doom. “Home. Home!”

  “No,” Doom said. “This is not home. And you will not be going home unless and until Doom goes home as well.” He strode away from Klaw, who followed, hunched and jumpy as if he expected Galactus to annihilate them both at any moment.

  Doom located a surveillance terminal and brought up an image of Galactus on the planet below. “You see,” he said to Klaw, “Galactus builds a world-destroying machine. He will take no notice of us while his attention is thus absorbed.”

  “Oh, but when he finishes, he will, he will,” Klaw babbled. “We have to get out!”

  “Or we can arrange for the work of Galactus to be delayed,” Doom mused. He switched the monitor to a live feed of the Avengers. They still lingered in the primitive alien village. “I could manipulate them into attacking Galactus, but they are battle-weary. He would crush them in seconds.”

  “Crush, rush, ush, crush,” Klaw muttered.

  Doom flicked the monitor over to Xavier and Magneto, plotting Doom knew not what. The resilience of the X-Men was well established, but they were too few in number. Further, Xavier would not easily be swayed to action by an outside force, and their base did not command the necessary power. No, the X-Men could not be of use to him at the moment.

  He realized he had spoken those thoughts aloud when Klaw echoed, “Power, yes, power-ower-ower.”

  “My own pawns must be the choice,” Doom said, refocusing the monitor yet again to see his minions returning to Doombase. “Without my leadership, they are nothing. Look at them, Klaw. They stagger back to shelter, thrashed by the X-Men.”

  “Thrash, rash hash smash trash,” Klaw said.

  “There must be a means to slow Galactus. If I cannot confront him directly, an indirect method will be necessary. Yes. If one cannot prevent the preparation of a meal, perhaps one can make the meal itself…unpalatable.”

  “Table,” Klaw said. “Fly in his soup, oop, oop.”

  “Precisely,” Doom said. Klaw was surely mad—but like many madmen, his insanity occasionally shed light.

  “Got to get out,” Klaw said. “He’ll notice soon spoon soon.”

  “You, yes. You will get out,” Doom said. Klaw froze and fixed his blank eyes on Doom. “You will convey my message. Serve me well and partake of the Beyonder’s bounty, gaining reward beyond your wildest dreams! Fail me, and I will destroy you.”

  “You can’t destroy me! I’m made of energy! Einstein said energy can’t be destroyed!” Klaw crowed.

  “Einstein had not made the acquaintance of Battleworld,” said Doom. “Or of Victor von Doom.”

  THIRTY

  MY LEGS are not yet strong enough for so much physical exertion, thought Xavier, alone in his chamber back at Magneto’s fortress. In the public areas, the X-Men worked tirelessly to repair the damage from Galactus’ powerful blast, but Charles could contribute little to the cleanup effort beyond assessing the extent of the damage. They were lucky to be alive, he knew—even shielded as they were at the last moment by Magneto’s bubbles of magnetic force. The momentary flicker of Galactus’ regard had been enough to destroy much of the base; his full attention would have annihilated them utterly.

  They were fortunate Galactus had been so intent on the construction of his world-devouring machine—but they would not be fortunate if he succeeded in finishing it.

  Cyclops appeared in the doorway to Xavier’s room. “Well, at least Galactus’ attack and our fight with Doom’s cronies didn’t kill anyone,” Scott said. “Injuries are minor. We got lucky.” He paused. “Except for Peter.”

  “Yes,” Xavier said. “I regret that we had to leave him behind, but we dared not tarry. Colossus’ injuries were such that to move him would have killed him. I saw in the mind of Johnny Storm that there was a healer in that village. Peter will be well cared for.”

  Scott grimaced, and Xavier could sense his discomfort. “Contacting Galactus mind-to-mind to learn his plans wasn’t such a good idea, was it?”

  Xavier bristled. “I am always willing to listen, Scott. But it appeared that I had the only plan, and we did not have time for inaction. Perhaps if you had offered a suggestion…”

  “If I’d known you and Magneto were going to try to reason with Galactus, I would have said something,” Cyclops said. “But you haven’t been too forthcoming since we got here, Professor.”

  “You have never questioned my leadership before,” Xavier replied, more irritated than he wanted to admit. “Would you leave Galactus alone to build his machine and destroy this world?”

  “My idea of a plan is to work together,” Cyclops said. “You pulled us away from the Avengers and into this alliance with Magneto, then went off and poked Galactus. Where was all the consultation? The strategizing? You might have a reason for doing this, but you sure haven’t shared it with any of us.”

  “I am correct on this point, Scott,” Xavier said. “Attempting to dissuade Galactus was the most reasonable course of action whether it succeeded or not, and now the best plan is to engage Doom and prevent him from rallying. If he cripples us, or cripples the Avengers, we will all die. There is no doubt.”

  “Maybe you’re right and maybe you’re not,” Cyclops said. “Either way, you put us in a hell of a spot here by hitching us to Magneto. Now we’re stranded in this ruin, and pretty soon you and Magneto are going to get itchy for action again—without Colossus, because you abandoned him in that village.”

  “As an independent ally of Captain America’s group, we were extremely effective. We should continue playing the role of a ‘third force.’ We must keep our distance—even if it means leaving Colossus behind temporarily,” Xavier said. “Had you considered that?”

  “I considered asking you why you can walk. Had you considered telling us what you know about that?”

  “No,” Xavier said. He said nothing else. Cyclops stood staring at him for a long time, but Xavier made no effort to discern his thoughts. “Scott,” he
said after some time. “We must be wary of the ways Battleworld—by which I mean the Beyonder’s promise—can deform our thinking. We who are the object of the Beyonder’s game have a difficult time understanding its scope.”

  “You’re patronizing me again, Professor,” Scott said. “Emphasis on again.”

  “I am working this out in my head as I say it. I have felt this pressure. That is why I initially pulled us away from Captain America and Richards—whose desires may come into conflict with our own, regardless of their intentions. Now I think I have a clearer sense…” Xavier held himself back from saying what he really wanted to say, which was:

  Battleworld itself is conscious, and its desires are beginning to infiltrate our minds.

  “Sense of what?” Scott prompted.

  “No more, Scott. Not right now. Please. Help the others sift through the ruins and see what we may still use.” Xavier leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. “I will join you soon.”

  He heard the door whisper closed as Scott left. Xavier ignored his irritation and let his consciousness reach out, past its usual limits. He could feel the consciousness of nearly every creature on Battleworld. He touched the minds of his X-Men and then moved on. It was Doom’s servants who interested him.

  He found them, and…there were more than he had previously known. Ulysses Klaw was there. When and how had that happened? Xavier alit briefly on Klaw’s mind and recoiled at the confusion he found there. His mind was a mad stew of shifting memories—Dazzler? Galactus? Doom?—and he was carrying a message from Doom…

  Xavier saw volcanoes and heard Klaw parroting something Doom had said, but the words were unintelligible in the jumble of Klaw’s mind. The others were skeptical, hostile, surprised in equal measure—but none, Xavier could tell, had any intention of defying Doom’s orders.

  Where had Klaw come from? What was the point of their mission to the volcanoes? Xavier probed more deeply.

  Ah! But he had pushed a little too hard.

  By Fafnir’s teeth! Mortal, you dare?

  The Enchantress. She blocked him out, and Xavier snapped back to awareness in his own room. He shielded his mind against any potential retaliation, but none came.

  As he waited, he also considered what to do next. Whatever Doom had planned, Xavier needed to know about it. Then he would decide whether to share it with Richards and Captain America.

  Attention, he said telepathically to the X-Men. Doctor Doom is sending a task force to the line of volcanoes near his base. Cyclops, take a shuttle with Wolverine and Rogue to observe…and engage them if you feel it necessary.

  He did not sample all of their responses. Xavier believed in being judicious with the use of his powers. He did, however, immediately note the angry reaction of Storm, who appeared in his quarters shortly after he had issued the command. She made quite an entrance, flying through the door and spinning to face him after she had landed. Her impact on the floor was accompanied by the sound of thunder outside.

  “You wish to speak to me?” Xavier inquired mildly.

  “No,” Storm said. “I will speak to you. You seem to have forgotten that I—not you and not Scott—am leader of the X-Men.”

  “I would ask that you calm yourself,” Xavier said. “Your emotional state is reflected in the weather outside. That will make it quite difficult for the team to carry out the mission I have given them.”

  “Exactly the point. By what authority are you giving out missions? Why am I not being consulted?”

  Xavier grew frustrated, mostly because this was the second time in an hour his leadership and motivations had been questioned. His tone sharpened. “Because this is Battleworld, and things are different here,” he said. “If we operate as we did back on Earth, we will die. I would prefer a different outcome, and your hurt feelings— and Cyclops’ hurt feelings—are irrelevant to me if you are still alive to have any feelings at all. Surely you understand that?”

  “I see,” Storm said, standing still straighter in her defiance. “We’re fighting for our lives. Perhaps for every life in this galaxy, or this universe. And you are still willing to telepathically beat us into submission to make sure you’re giving the orders. Perhaps you should reconsider your priorities, Professor Xavier.”

  Xavier stood, bringing his gaze level with hers. “I have no need of your advice, Ororo. Only your obedience.”

  “You might not get either one,” Storm shot back as she lifted herself away on a wind of her own creation.

  THIRTY-ONE

  SCOTT SUMMERS and Charles Xavier had not always seen eye-to-eye where leadership of the X-Men was concerned, and Scott was worried that was going to get worse before it got better. Whatever Xavier was keeping from them and for whatever reason, the fact that he was obviously hiding something had driven a wedge of distrust into the team. Storm was angry and feeling sidelined. Scott, if he was honest with himself, felt the same—but toward both Xavier and Storm. Scott had been on sabbatical when the X-Men were snatched from Earth, but he couldn’t help trying to resume his familiar leadership role now that he was back with the team.

  This was no way to survive a fight over the future of the universe.

  He was pretty sure Xavier had delegated this mission to him as acknowledgment that he himself had done a poor job keeping the team together. Scott was glad for the gesture, but he’d have been happier if Xavier had come clean about whatever was on his mind. It was enough to make Scott wish there was another telepath on the team.

  There wasn’t, though, so Scott was playing the cards he’d been dealt. At the moment those cards were Rogue and Wolverine, and both of them were keeping an eye out for Doom’s people. Scott flew the shuttle along the volcanic ridge, keeping low to avoid the ash plumes that darkened the sky.

  “There!” Rogue said from the copilot’s seat, pointing ahead and to the right. There were four figures with a ship nearby.

  “I see Doc Ock, Molecule Man, Absorbing Man, and whoever their new musclewoman is,” Wolverine said.

  “They haven’t seen us yet,” Rogue added. Scott dipped down behind a ridge to get as close to them as possible while maintaining the element of surprise. “But they’ve got numbers. Hopefully there aren’t more of them hiding over the next hill.”

  “Doom wouldn’t have sent this kind of strength unless it was important,” Scott said. “We have to stop whatever it is they’re trying to do.” He landed the ship, and they spilled out as soon as it was on the ground.

  “Bad odds, a fight to the death…I like it,” Wolverine said. “Let’s get on with it.”

  “Not yet, Wolverine,” Scott yelled as Logan bounded over the ridge and across the open ground toward Doom’s team. Too late.

  “Stow it, Slim!” Wolverine snarled as he popped his claws.

  The woman saw them first and alerted the rest. “Company’s here!”

  Wolverine was making a beeline for Molecule Man. It was the right decision: He was the most powerful member of the enemy group, and he’d proven himself leery of hand-to-hand fighting.

  But Wolverine never even got close.

  “This little, hairy one is a real case,” the new woman—a tall, muscled blonde—cackled to her companions. She lifted a boulder the size of a forklift over her head and smashed Logan out of the air just as he made his last leap to land within striking distance of Molecule Man. Both the boulder and Wolverine disappeared over a nearby ridge. The sound of the impact was the kind of crunch that would have meant a fatal blow to anyone without an Adamantium skeleton and accelerated healing factor. Even Logan wouldn’t be standing up from it right away.

  “Nice shot, Titania!” Absorbing Man shouted, awe apparent in his voice. Scott triggered his visor and unleashed an optic blast into the middle of Doom’s team. The force threw up enough rocks and dust that they disappeared from view. “Flank them, Rogue!” he called. “Hit Molecule Man first! Move!”

  She flew, almost faster than he could follow. When the dust settled, Scott saw that Molecule Man ha
d created a barrier to protect Doom’s team. Now the woman—Titania—leaped over it and met Rogue in midair with a devastating punch that knocked her back behind Scott. She hit the ground and lay still.

  WHAM! Scott knocked Titania down with another optic blast, but he was all alone now. Absorbing Man came to the front of Doom’s team. “Go ahead, blast me,” he gloated. “I’ll absorb your power and give it right back to you, only stronger!”

  Behind him, Molecule Man was watching. “It’s all of us against him,” he called out. “No rush. We don’t have to fight unless—”

  Wolverine sprang out from cover behind Molecule Man, claws extended and poised for a killing blow. “Wolverine, no!” Scott shouted. Logan wasn’t listening. Taking the first shot had gotten his bloodlust up, and Molecule Man was about to suffer for it. There was only one way to slow him down.

  Modulating it as much as he could, Scott fired an optic blast that hit Logan’s arm in mid-swipe. His claws, which would have disemboweled Molecule Man, still bit deep, but Logan went tumbling across the ground, cursing a blue streak.

  “EEYAGGH!” Molecule Man howled, then crumpled bleeding to the ground. Doctor Octopus picked him up immediately as Titania knocked Wolverine sprawling. Rogue groaned and looked around, then jumped to her feet next to Scott. She was breathing hard, but was ready to rejoin the battle.

  “That does it,” Absorbing Man growled. “Now we put these guys down.”

  “No!” Doc Ock said. “Reece is badly hurt. If he bleeds to death while we’re out here, Doom will kill us all. Let’s get him back to the base.”

  The three of them ran for their ship, Doctor Octopus carrying Molecule Man. Scott let them go, though he could have taken them down with another blast. They would learn no more of the villains’ intentions, and the X-Men were not here to kill.

  Well, at least two of them weren’t. Logan, back on his feet, stomped toward Scott in a fury. “You don’t get in my way in a fight,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “Ever.”