I knew who the major players were.
I knew that they had a powerful source of magic.
I knew that they had an army of bad guys who’d fight for them.
I knew that the destruction that had recently occurred was the result of Diabolist Mage manipulating his new power.
I knew that creating weapons strong enough to defeat Alpha Prime was on their agenda.
About the only thing I still didn’t know was the source of the Diabolist’s magic, although it was clear that the items I’d brought in the satchel had benefited him in some way.
Bearing all those facts in mind, maybe it was time for me to get back home and hand the reins to the Alpha League. Any intel I could provide would probably help – especially if Mouse, Esper, and the others had to come back here and face an armed militia.
Or maybe they didn’t have to…
Something cool and ethereal seemed to touch my mind, and I jumped to my feet as inspiration swept through me, the seeds of a plan starting to sprout in my mind. It might not work, but it was worth a shot.
*****
I had noticed that almost no one here carried any weapons, which probably wasn’t a bad idea considering that the number of supervillains present made for a volatile mix of personalities. (Or maybe the loyalty spell the Diabolist had mentioned played a role in that, fostering camaraderie.) However, Case’s group had gotten equipped with weapons and armor just before they departed. That told me that there was probably an armory somewhere on the premises. The only question was how to find it.
The easiest method would seem to be my little mindreading trick: ask someone where the armory was, pluck the answer from their thoughts, and be on my merry way. However, after my fiasco with trying to peek into the Diabolist’s mind, I was actually a little gun-shy about skimming anyone else’s thoughts. Still, in the end, I didn’t have much choice unless I simply wanted to wander around invisibly from room to room until I came across what I was looking for.
However, rather than just trying to read the thoughts of random individuals, I adopted a different strategy. First, I tried to feel potential candidates out empathically. Those who are often the easiest to pluck thoughts from telepathically also tend to exhibit certain characteristics emotionally. For example, people who are somewhat insecure or extremely uptight are so burdened by their personal issues that getting in and out of their brain is usually a piece of cake.
Using this technique, I quickly learned that there were actually three armories, not one. I briefly pondered whether than meant that the bad guys had so much offensive weaponry that they had to store it in more than one place, or whether this was simply an attempt to avoid putting all their eggs in one basket. Mentally I shrugged, as it ultimately didn’t matter; I was certain I could take out three weapons depots just as easily as one.
The first armory was located in close proximity to our quarters – basically, at the opposite end of (and around the corner from) the hallway that Monitor and I had entered when he had shown me to the door of my room. Oddly enough, the entrance was guarded by my old buddy Imo, who had clashed with me and Alpha Prime at the overpass. Hanging from his hip was the mace he had used in that earlier attack.
As might be expected, I had approached the area invisibly, flying near the ceiling. I phased through the wall above Imo’s head and found myself inside what was probably a forty-by-forty foot room. I gave a low whistle, impressed with what I was seeing.
Every inch of every wall was lined with gun racks and weapons lockers. The gun racks themselves held a wild assortment of weapons, from assault rifles to submachine guns and more. The weapons lockers contained similar items, as well as several advanced weapons I couldn’t even name.
The middle of the room was filled with several rows of shelving, and contained everything from ammo to gun cases to explosives like grenades.
All in all, it was a formidable amount of firepower. Although the Alpha League went up against armed foes all the time, I suddenly felt a lot better about my decision to destroy all this stuff before I skedaddled.
Usually when it came to weapons in the hands of bad guys, my modus operandi was to simply teleport the offending item to a secure location. In this instance, however, I didn’t just want to disarm the White Wyrm and his ilk; I wanted to sow confusion – get them disorganized if I could – and few things were as good at creating chaos as explosions. Thus, my plan was to actually blow up each armory.
That being the case, I went to work at super speed, dumping all of the weapons into a couple of piles on the floor as quickly and quietly as I could. The only exception to this was a grenade belt that I, on a whim, picked up and slung over my shoulder after stocking it with both traditional grenades and those of the smoke bomb variety.
I was just about finished when the door to the armory was flung open and Imo stepped in. I thought I’d been as quiet as a mouse, but whether he’d heard something or been guided by simple intuition, Imo came into the room in battle mode – mace in hand and looking for a dance partner.
Still at super speed, I pulled a pin from a grenade and flung it in his direction. It struck him in the mid-section, but at that velocity, it was like being hit with a cruise missile. Imo was lifted off his feet, dropping his mace in the process, and carried down the hallway by the grenade, which was still buried deep in his gut like a fist.
I zipped over and picked up the mace. It was lighter than I had anticipated, but still felt solid enough to do an impressive amount of damage. I slammed the door to the armory just as Imo hit the floor of the hallway. A second later, the building shook with the sounds of an explosion as the grenade went off, and several of the weapons slid off the piles that I had stacked them in.
A moment later, I had pulled the pins on about forty grenades, tossed them into the various weapons piles, and then dashed out of the room and down the hallway. Along the way I passed Imo, who was still lying on the hallway floor. He was unconscious and his clothing was in tatters, but beyond that he didn’t appear to be injured too seriously – despite the fact that the grenade blast had splintered the walls nearby and caused part of the ceiling to collapse on top of him.
The sound of voices and the distinct rhythmic patter of running feet made me realize that people were coming. I glanced back at the armory, where the grenades should be going off any second, and then took off running for the second armory, not caring anymore if anyone realized a speedster was present. A moment later, I was rewarded with a series of deep, rumbling explosions that sent tremors throughout the building.
Chapter 33
Initially, I had almost no trouble with the second armory, which was designed almost exactly like the first. Although it, too, had a hulking guard manning the entrance, I simply phased inside while invisible. Within a few seconds, I had all the weapons piled on the floor as before. I had just pulled the pins on a bunch of hand grenades when the door flew open and a whirlwind blew in, followed by the fellow who had been standing guard outside. A strong wind whipped around the room, and a moment later all of the pins were back in the grenades.
I didn’t realize what had happened at first, but then it hit me: a speedster had come into the room and put all of the grenade pins back in place. I glanced around the room, and saw him – a young guy, barely out of his teens, and so hyper that he couldn’t stand still (as evidenced by the fact that he kept zipping from side to side).
I teleported him, along with the guard who had come into the room with him, to the Great Hall (which, for some reason, was the first place I thought of). Then I went into super speed again and once more removed all the pins from the grenades. I was about to take off when the speedster I had just banished dashed back into the room and once again put all the pins back into the grenades.
Of course – he was a speedster. Teleporting him to another part of the castle had only delayed him slightly as it took him practically no time at all to return to the second armory. (Obviously it would take the door guard longer, since he apparently didn’t p
ossess the same speed.)
Disgusted, I removed all the grenade pins a third time and flung them towards the door. Lightning quick, the other speedster dashed over and nimbly plucked them out of the air one by one, and then put them back into the grenades once more.
I had to admit that he was good, but I was getting a little tired of him wrecking my plans. On his part, the speedster just looked at me, waiting. He gave me a cocksure grin, letting me know that this was fun for him. Other than that, though, he didn’t make any type of aggressive move. What was he waiting on? Why wasn’t he trying to go on the offensive?
Then it hit me: he was stalling. He was just keeping me occupied until reinforcements could arrive. Thus, I couldn’t waste any more time on this guy. I needed a plan, and needed it quick. There had to be a way to turn the tables on this speedster.
The solution came to me a moment later. I smiled as I zipped around pulling out grenade pins again, hopefully for the last time (at least in this room). Like clockwork, the other speedster followed up almost as soon as I was done. However, as soon as he picked up a pin and tried to put it back into a grenade, I turned the latter invisible.
He froze momentarily, clearly unsure of what was happening. Obviously, he could feel the grenade in his hand, but he couldn’t see it. More precisely, he couldn’t see the hole that the pin was supposed to go in. He struggled mightily for a few moments, wasting valuable time, trying to locate the hole by feel. Then he dropped the grenade and reached for another. I made that one invisible as well.
When he couldn’t find the pinhole on the second grenade, I saw panic start to set in. In real time it had only been a few seconds, but it was long enough for the other speedster to realize that this was a lost cause. He turned and dashed from the room, and I left hot on his heels.
A moment later, the armory exploded behind us. The other speedster decided to glance over his shoulder to get a peek at the devastation. As he did so, I tossed Imo’s mace, which I was still carrying, at his ankles. It tripped him up nicely; he fell forward, his head hitting the floor with an audible smack, and then went tumbling down the hallway like a rodeo clown tossed by a steer.
I scooped up the mace, and then stopped to stare at the other speedster after he stopped skidding. He’d definitely had his ticket punched. Not only was he knocked out, but the ankle that the mace had hit seemed to be bent at an odd angle. Looking at that ankle and the discoloration that was starting to form around it, I had an odd feeling that, even if he had been conscious, this guy wouldn’t be giving me any more trouble today.
Chapter 34
They were waiting for me at the last armory, which had the same layout as its predecessors. I should have known something unusual was going on; there was no guard posted outside. Invisible, I phased through the door, and found the room on the other side not just full of weapons, but also containing Diabolist Mage, the White Wyrm, Retread Fred, and Gorgon Son. The four of them were standing together on the far side of the room, in a corner near a weapons locker.
“–ic!” Diabolist Mage was saying. “I’ve got the power now!”
“You’ve got the power,” the White Wyrm retorted, “but no control. Heeding your advice would lead to ruin.”
“But–” the Diabolist began.
“Silence!” the White Wyrm exclaimed. “We will speak of this later. Right now, we have an uninvited guest to deal with.” The White Wyrm looked knowingly around the room. “In fact, you’re here now, aren’t you?”
I had to admit to being surprised. It was pretty obvious that he couldn’t sense me by any normal means, but the White Wyrm obviously had either some other power that let him detect my presence, or a well-developed sense of intuition.
“Come, come,” he continued. “There’s no need to be shy. We’re all friends here.”
I floated up to one corner near the ceiling and said, “With” – I teleported to another corner – “friends” – I teleported to a third corner – “like” – I teleported to the last corner of the room – “these…”
Speaking in an unbroken string as I popped around the room had made it seem as though my voice was coming from all around them, and the eyes of all four had darted around, trying to pinpoint my location. When I finished, the White Wyrm laughed.
“Ah, a teleporter,” he said, eyes roaming around the ceiling. “My envy on having such a unique skill.”
Again, I marveled at how he had discerned that I was a teleporter without being able to see me. If this was merely intuition on his part, it bordered on psychic ability.
“By now, you know something of our plans,” he said. “And you know that no one can stop us.”
“Really?” I said sarcastically, popping around the room again as I spoke. “I’ve been able to gum up the works without even trying too hard. I can only imagine what will happen when someone like the Alpha League decides to swat you flies.”
“So you’re with the Alpha League,” the White Wyrm said. “Good to know.”
My mouth almost fell open. I needed to shut up. Every time I spoke, the White Wyrm deduced some fact that I hadn’t intended to divulge. I wanted to scream, but with my luck, the White Wyrm would glean something from that, too.
“Ha!” I exclaimed, trying to cover. “The Alpha League wouldn’t get out of bed for this mad tea party you’ve got going on. They only deal with real threats.”
“But would I be correct in assuming that it was you who planted that bug that led them to our assault team?”
I didn’t say anything, but my silence was practically confirmation in itself.
“Be that as it may,” the White Wyrm continued, “it occurs to me that we might be able to make a deal. I’d like to extend an offer to you.”
“What kind of offer?” I asked. Whatever it was, the answer was going to be “No,” but I was curious as to what he had to say.
“Please,” the White Wyrm said, “I prefer to have these kinds of dealings face-to-face. Right now I feel as though I’m conversing with the ether.”
It was undoubtedly a trick, but I was confident that I could handle anything that was thrown at me. I floated down to the floor in a corner that was adjacent to where my four adversaries were standing and became visible. Four pairs of eyes swiveled in my direction.
Diabolist Mage looked at me in unadulterated surprise. “Proteus?”
I winked at the Diabolist and smiled, but didn’t verbally respond. I had effectively been viewed as Proteus since coming here, but that ruse was now over. Openly angry at having been duped, the Diabolist hissed at me and Gorgon Son made as if to move in my direction, but the White Wyrm stepped to the fore and held his hands out to his side.
“No,” he said firmly over his shoulder, effectively guaranteeing my safety – for the moment.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“You,” the White Wyrm began, “have come here uninvited, infiltrated our group, sown dissension in our ranks, made us abort parts of our plan, destroyed our armories, and – in the process – caused untold damage to my ancestral home. In short, you have caused us no end of grief since your arrival.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
“Still,” the White Wyrm went on, “I think we could use your unique talents, and I’d like to make a place for you in our upper echelons.”
“And why would you want to do that?”
“No leader, no matter how great, can do everything himself. He needs lieutenants to help him. To carry some of the load. To address the minutiae so he can concentrate on the things that matter.”
“And in your opinion, I fit the bill?”
“Why not? You’re extremely gifted, resourceful, intelligent, and bold. I can make use of those talents.”
“That sounds like a windfall for you, Your Majesty, but what’s in it for me?”
“For you? Why… No!”
In focusing on my conversation with the White Wyrm, I had made the mistake of ignoring Diabolist Mage to a certain extent,
and he had been slowly tilting his staff until it was pointed almost directly at me. Warned by the White Wyrm’s shout, I phased as a beam of light shot out from the head of the staff. It passed harmlessly through me, but burned a hole through a gun rack that had been behind me, as well as the assault weapons that it held and the wall it was affixed to. I turned invisible and teleported to an upper corner of the room.
The White Wyrm turned and smacked Diabolist Mage with a vicious backhand that sent the magician sprawling.
“I specifically forbade any attack!” the White Wyrm shouted. “You would do well to obey your master!”
There was bloodlust in the Diabolist’s eyes as he jumped to his feet, shouting, “And you would do well to remember who has the power here now – who holds the reins of your secret weapon!”
As he spoke, a purple glow – apparently emanating from his staff – surrounded him. The White Wyrm growled low in his throat; Gorgon Son and Retread Fred stepped back as it looked like their two leaders were about to come to blows.
While I watched these events unfold, my mind was racing, focusing on what the Diabolist had just said. He had mentioned their secret weapon – the one I had yet to find, the source of the power he now wielded. I suddenly had my own spark of intuition with respect to finding it.
“Thanks for the job offer,” I said, popping around the room again as I spoke, distracting the White Worm and Diabolist Mage before they engaged each other. “Since it’s for a management position, I’m sure you’d like to review my bona fides. Here’s a copy of my résumé.”
I pulled a grenade from the belt that I still carried over my shoulder. I yanked the pin out, made the grenade visible, and then dropped it on the floor between the White Wyrm and Diabolist Mage. Their reactions were immediate.
The Diabolist cracked the end of his staff on the floor, and a purple bubble formed around him. Gorgon Son spun around, gripped a weapons locker that was behind him, then lifted it bodily and slammed it on the ground between him and the grenade. In a similar vein, the White Wyrm stepped behind Retread Fred, obviously intending to use the rubberized villain as a shield. A moment later, the grenade went off.
The Kid Sensation Series Box Set Page 57