“It’s my feast day. The one day in the year where my power is increased tenfold.”
“You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?”
“I’m immortal. I lose track of time.” The god laughed. “Besides, surely it’s marked on your calendar? Normally I celebrate in a grove, where sheep entrails and wine are offered in sacrifice. But clouting a self-inflated mortal will suffice.”
Muse felt each chamber of his heart palpitating. He took a deep breath; breaking down at their first meeting simply would not do. “Okay. Okay. Tenfold?” Would it be worth it to rush the schedule? He recalled the god’s fury during the interview. Probably.
“Before we start brainstorming a battle plan, I’m going to use my powers to inspire each of you. We’ll need as many good ideas as we can get.”
Muse made his circuit around the table. But when he reached for El Fantasma, his hand went through him.
“Sorry, Señor Muse. I prefer not being touched.” The sadness in his voice rang clear. Even through the small holes of El Fantasma’s mask, Muse could see the apology in the man’s eyes.
Dr. Schadenfreude would have demanded the man to solidify, but Muse didn’t have it in him to make such an order. Perhaps I’m not as ready to lead as I thought.
Flash Forward offered his palm. “Slap me some skin, for inspirayshin.”
Muse did so, and struggled not to imagine all the things that hand may have touched. He moved on to Robigus, who thought he was getting a massage, and Bunny Boy, who complained it tickled.
To Muse’s surprise, his power even proved effective on Armored Suit Man. Perhaps there is a man beneath that armor.
The brainstorming went well. “You all have your preparations,” Muse said. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow at seven a.m.” Flash Forward groaned at the command, and Muse made a mental note to give him a wake-up call.
As they dispersed, El Fantasma asked Muse for a private word.
“I apologize again, Señor. I was of little use today, and likely will be so again tomorrow.”
“Well… every bit helps.”
“I will try. For you.”
“For me?” Muse stared, for the first time wondering about the man behind the mask.
“Your name is spoken in circles that matter. Granted it is always attached to Dr. Schadenfreude, but it is spoken with respect even when his is not.”
Muse bristled that the compliment included an insult against his friend.
El Fantasma continued. “So I value your opinion. Please do not think I’m a ghost because of cowardice. Sometimes it’s just easier not to let anyone in, to withdraw.”
Muse was touched by the man’s openness, yet uncomfortable, too. Using his best Dr. Schadenfreude tone, he said, “Enough. I didn’t pick the Narcoleptic or Mr. Migraine or those other rejects. I picked you, and you should be thankful.”
The man smiled; not the effect Muse expected to his scolding.
“Muchas gracias,” El Fantasma said. He turned to walk away, then added, “One thing more. The group you’ve assembled… it would be well to look beyond their powers, to see the strengths and foibles in their personalities.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Muse said, though he had little intention of knowing them on anything but a superficial level.
When El Fantasma left, Muse took a deep breath and started working on a way to catch Captain Stratagem’s attention.
The next morning, Muse pulled up in his car, pleased to find the newly assembled team waiting at the rendezvous point. Even Flash Forward was ready, gargling black coffee before swallowing it. Muse said, “Everyone, if you’d kindly gather. I’ve chosen Iowa to be our battleground.”
“We’re going to drive there,” asked Bunny Boy, nervously, “in an ‘83 Chrysler Cordoba?”
“We’re going to fly there.” He turned to Armored Suit Man. “And you will fly us.”
The scent of strawberry thickened in the air. Muse grew alarmed when he caught El Fantasma breaking out in a red sweat. Was the man acrophobic?
“I will need to solidify to stay in the car,” El Fantasma said, a quiver in his voice.
“You can do that, though, yes?”
“I… could.” The man’s hesitance grew, and Muse could foresee where this was leading. “Perhaps it’s better if I stay–”
“You made a commitment, and you will abide by it. As I would expect from any man of his word.”
El Fantasma recoiled as if slapped. The comment had stung, just as Muse hoped. “Very well. As long as I don’t have to sit next to the more… unwashed… members of our group.” He glanced sidelong at Flash Forward.
“Shotgun’s all yours,” Muse said.
Robigus, Flash Forward, and Chocolate Bunny Boy crowded into the back. Flash Forward guzzled down the rest of his coffee. “Hey Bunny Dude, can you make Peeps? I got a craving.”
“My name is not Bunny Dude,” Chocolate Bunny Boy said as he clicked his seatbelt. “And Peeps are lethal. At least the radioactive ones are.”
“Really?”
The car lurched as Armored Suit Man hefted it into the air. His leg thrusters ignited and soon they were soaring heavenward.
Flash Forward rolled down the window and yelled. “How fast can you get us there, dude?”
“Oh, what, I’m supposed to be able to calculate our arrival time just because I look like a robot?”
“Well, gee, your ears are metal. Your teeth are metal. Your eyebrows are—.”
“That’s facial profiling!”
“It would be best if we rest up and avoid further conversation,” Muse interrupted.
Flash Forward suggested singing a song to pass the time. “How many bottles of beers do you think we need to get to Iowa?”
A dozen kegs, at least, Muse thought.
Robigus fidgeted in his seat like a child needing to go potty. “Etiam advenimus?” he muttered.
“No,” Muse sighed, the tone of the question requiring no translation. “We’re not there yet.”
The note Muse had sent to Stratagem was concise: Go to Grundy County, Iowa. As of 10 A.M. today, I am effecting my surrender.—Dr. Schadenfreude. The supplied coordinates would lead the hero to the cornfield where he, Robigus, and El Fantasma lay waiting in ambush. Most of the team had tied corn to themselves, partly as camouflage, partly to court Robigus’s blessing on his Feast Day.
Armored Suit Man stood watch, disguised as a scarecrow, his telescopic eyes scanning the blue sky. Bunny Boy patrolled deeper in the cornfield, his every hop clearing the eight-foot tall stalks. When Stratagem arrived, the first thing he would notice was a giant bouncing rabbit.
A soft beep sounded in Muse’s earphone, and Armored Suit Man’s voice cut through. “Attention Dorothy, the Wicked Witch has arrived… and is veering on a course towards Toto.”
“Acknowledged, Tin Man.”
“I am not a Tin Man, I am a Scarecrow.”
Muse ignored him and contacted Bunny Boy via his comlink cuff. “You’ve been spotted. Hightail it to the Lion.”
A startled squeak came over the speaker. “Lion? You didn’t mention lions.”
“I mean Flash Forward,” Muse said with a sigh.
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
From where Muse lay, he could see the clearing where Flash Forward lounged smoking a joint. The moments ticked by, then a heavily-breathing Bunny Boy hopped into view. Flash Forward snubbed out the joint and put it in his pocket.
A strong wind stirred the stalks, and a sound like an incoming missile shattered the clear Iowa air. A figure set down in front of Flash Forward and Bunny Boy, sending a cloud of grit into the air.
Stratagem. Muse’s heart thudded in his chest. All he could see was the hero’s back, but even so, the man cut an imposing presence
—gold cape billowing, silver spandex clinging lovingly to bulging muscles, red epaulettes on broad shoulders, and bare arms that could toss skyscrapers without strain.
Stratagem sniffed the air. “Under Iowa Code section 124.401, you are hereby charged with the unlawful possession of marijuana.” His rich baritone resounded with authority.
Flash Forward snickered. “Don’t see no Mary-Jane, Daddy-O. Could be I have a joint in my pocket. Too bad you can’t see no proof.”
Excellent. Muse had worried the exhibitionist would flub his lines.
Stratagem’s head bent slightly forward, and Muse knew the hero was using x-ray vision to investigate Flash Forward’s statement. Exactly as Muse predicted. The x-ray vision would also reveal Flash Forward’s nakedness, and then…
Stratagem stiffened, then staggered, clearly mesmerized by the sun-bright kaleidoscopic patterns exploding on Flash Forward’s skin.
“Now!” Muse shouted, and everyone burst from their hiding places and charged.
Bunny Boy kicked out at Stratagem’s knee, to no visible effect. Armored Suit Man fared better, landing a kidney punch that elicited a pained grunt.
And then Robigus was there. With a roar, the god swung, his blow hurtling the hero through the air and deeper into the heart of the cornfield.
Muse cursed under his breath. The plan had been for Flash Forward’s powers to transfix Stratagem while the rest of them pummeled him into unconsciousness. But the god’s last punch had proved too strong. “Hurry, we have to press our advantage!”
Armored Suit Man craned his neck. “At last measured velocity, our target should be approximately 93 meters away. Motion detectors are not picking up anything. He may be down.”
“Let’s not assume. Robigus take point.”
The god scoffed. “What I’ve seen thus far has hardly impressed.”
“Don’t underestimate–”
Parts of Armored Suit Man started beeping. “Boss! I’m detecting movement. Speed: 110 mph. Bearing: Us!”
“Evasive!” screamed Muse, throwing himself to the ground as a whistling whoosh keened louder. A yellow tractor blurred through the air smashing into Robigus like a bowling ball making the spare. The projectile clipped Armored Suit Man, spinning him away, while Chocolate Bunny Boy hopped high, barely clearing it. Only El Fantasma stood his ground, the vehicle passing harmlessly through him.
In the distance, Captain Stratagem rose into the air like a spirit of vengeance. Red light blazed from his eyes as he sped toward them.
Muse scrambled to his feet. Robigus lay unconscious on the ground only a few yards away. Damn! Even from a distance, Stratagem had managed to identify his greatest threat.
“Knights Nefarious, assail him!” When the team just stared, Muse added, “That’s us! Attack!”
Bunny Boy raised his hand. “I don’t remember voting for that name–”
“Hush! And Attack!” Muse’s voice was turning hoarse, unused to shouting orders.
Bunny Boy leapt high, shooting a burst of hollow-point bunnies. Armored Suit Man released a laser blast from his chest.
Stratagem dodged the latter, but found himself pelted with the barrage of chocolate projectiles. He raised an arm to block them. “You’re assaulting me with Easter Candy?”
“Launch the largest bunny you’ve got,” Muse hissed at Bunny Boy, then turned to Armored Suit Man. “Ready your flamethrower.”
Bunny Boy took a series of quick breaths that would have impressed the strictest Lamaze coach. A chocolate bunny the size of a VW Beetle began materializing before him.
Muse waited a second, then ordered, “Flame it! Bunny Boy, shoot!” The flamethrower in Armored Suit Man’s forearm scorched the chocolate bunny as it rocketed forth.
Stratagem had braced himself to shatter the object with a punch. It left him unprepared for the wave of molten fudge that crashed into him. Disoriented, he tried to fly up, but plunged headlong into the ground, gouging a huge furrow through the rows of corn.
“Stockpile!” Muse shouted.
They rushed forth, corn cobs swinging from their clothes. Flash Forward whooped, happy to finally join the action.
The group ganged up on the prone hero, showering him with punches as Bunny Boy bounced up and down on his back. El Fantasma, unable to engage in a physical assault, threw demoralizing taunts instead.
Stratagem’s arm suddenly swung out, slapping Flash Forward and Armored Suit Man into the distance like toys flung in a child’s tantrum. He caught Bunny Boy in mid-descent by the throat. “I… am not… a trampoline.”
El Fantasma darted away, the movement catching Stratagem’s attention. Laser beams streaked from the hero’s eyes, only to burn the stalks on the other side of his target.
Muse charged from behind hoping for a sneak attack, but Stratagem whirled to throttle him with his free hand.
“Let them go!” El Fantasma cried.
“Or what? You’ll walk through me? I’ve fought the Red Spook and Poltergeist and other intangible cretins. You’re even more useless than your teammates.”
Muse saw the shock and wounded pride on the El Fantasma’s face. “I am sorry, Señor Muse,” he said, his voice betraying only the slightest tremble. “The Capitan is right. I should never have bothered.” He slowly sank into the ground, and with him, Muse’s hopes.
“Another one gone,” Stratagem said. “Now before I knock you and the Easter Bunny unconscious, would you care to explain why you’re draped in corn?”
“They’re… protection.”
Stratagem smirked and systematically used mini-blasts of his laser vision to target the corn cobs on Muse’s body. Each exploded in a burst of popcorn, each bang like point-blank firecrackers as Muse yelped and squirmed.
“Enough!” came a thunderous voice, and Muse turned his head, hope swelling at what he saw. The cornstalks parted like the Red Sea to give Robigus passage.
The scent of rich earth invaded the air. A dark cloud veiled the sun as the enraged god spoke. “I have heard the screams of my children, their stalks snapped and roots ruptured from Terra Mater! Quake now, and know the vengeance of the corn!”
Bunny Boy took advantage of the distraction, planting a kick right into Stratagem’s solar plexus. Stratagem released his captives just as the Roman god fell upon him.
The two combatants rained blow after blow on each other, each impact sending a shockwave that made Muse’s bones shudder. Divine light limned Robigus. Stratagem met each attack, unflinching. Muse could imagine the battle raging forever.
And then, between punches, the taunts began. “Your fetish for corn is appropriate. Quite a pitiful little crop. Did you know corn caused a pellagra outbreak in the late 19th century? Nutrient deficiencies, not surprisingly.”
To Muse, the ploy was transparent. “Don’t listen to him!” But Robigus was already snarling, his rage making his attacks wild. Stratagem weaved deftly under frenetic punches, returned with several solid jabs.
To his credit, Chocolate Bunny Boy jumped in to help, bunnies streaming out so fast that smoke issued from his palms. When Robigus pressed the attack, Stratagem caught his wrist, and judo-flipped him hard into Bunny Boy. The god was unhurt, but Bunny Boy fell to the battlefield and lay still on a bed of broken cornstalks.
Muse heard rustling behind him and spun to find Armored Suit Man approaching, his right hand slung protectively over his left side.
“What’s wrong?” Muse asked, rushing over.
Armored Suit Man said nothing, his metallic face turning a pinkish sheen.
“Are you injured?” Muse persisted, then noticed the coils and wiring poking out of his teammate’s “wound.” Muse understood then. Armored Suit Man could no longer deny what he was.
A choked cry grabbed both their attentions. Robigus stood behind Stratagem, a muscled arm wrapped t
ight around the hero’s throat. Hope bloomed in Muse’s heart. It would only be a matter of time before their foe lost consciousness. Robigus gave a startled squawk when Stratagem suddenly launched into the sky taking the god with him. Muse gaped, and Armored Suit Man blared, a sorrowful sequence of beeps. Aerial combat would yield only one winner because, for all his power, Robigus was a god of the soil, of the earth—-a god who could not fly. The two clashed unseen in the clouds, their presence only known by the thunder of their blows.
And then silence.
Robigus’s limp body plummeted through the clouds, speeding until it blasted a crater in the earth with an ear-splitting boom.
“We’re toast,” observed Armored Suit Man, as Captain Stratagem floated down without haste.
“No,” Muse said, “not without a fight. I can’t stand against him, but you can.”
“Me? I’m not even a… a man.”
Muse slapped him in the face, a move he instantly regretted. He gritted his teeth against the throbbing in his hand. “Do you think a man is only the materials he’s made from? Flesh or metal, bones or gears? That’s just the housing. It’s what’s inside that counts.”
“But–”
“Yesterday, at our meeting… my powers actually worked on you. They wouldn’t have unless there was something inside you to inspire. You have a soul, my friend. And you have life. Are you going to waste that bemoaning how you’re different from everyone else?”
A gleam shimmered in the Glasteel eyes, a spark so bright Muse thought it would set the world aflame.
“You’re right,” proclaimed the buzz-saw voice. “It’s not others who are the robophobes, it’s me. Well, no more. Say goodbye to Armored Suit Man.” Leg thrusters ignited, and Muse watched him skyrocket on a collision course with Stratagem, a battle-cry on his metal lips: “And say hello to Robot Man!”
Stratagem’s laser beams lanced out and cut him in half.
“I’m glad you cleared that up,” the hero said. “No guilt, then, in using my lasers at maximum.”
“You monster!” Muse cried, stunned as the two halves of Robot Man fell to the earth.
The Lavender Menace Page 16