|
|
Mob Rules, part one Tuesday, 14-Sep-1999 19:40:35
Prologue Akiko Masamune sighed. Linguini with clam sauce. Again. Always with the linguini. She prayed that someday the Italian Mafia would loose control of the International Crime Cartel, or at least pick a Don that was less stereotypical. Ah, well... what was one to expect in the Parodyverse? She forced herself to dig into the pasta with some semblance of enthusiasm. While not one to shy away from expressing her opinions, she was also not one to mess with a good thing. The various crime organizations in the Parodyverse had long ago joined forces-- all the better to survive in a world populated by cosmic entities fighting for control of reality itself. They’d settle for controlling the underworld-- and making a tidy profit by doing it. This, the gathering of the heads of the crime families, was a yearly event. As the current head of the Yakusa, she had a seat at the table surrounded by some of the world’s biggest opportunists, and, for the most part, she fit right in. Still, she had her differences. Not the least of which was her all pink wardrobe, chosen specifically to meet with the disapproval of this old boy’s club. She was the first woman to hold a position this high within the Cartel, something that the more ‘traditional’ members had problems with. More than that, however, she felt she lacked some of her colleague’s enthusiasm for the business. But power... that was another matter entirely. She was never one to turn up her nose at power, and she found she could stomach a surprising amount of this business to gain more. “What new matters do we have to discuss today?” Don Tredonme wheezed through his huge jowls. Akiko stifled a groan, and tried to convince herself that she would outlive the influence Martin Scorsese had on her associates. More than anything about this business, she hated these meetings. “An opportunity may be developing in Columbia” said a suave man in a white suit. Escobar, Akiko reminded herself: the new head of the Latin American families. “The commodities market hit a near all time low, and the price of coffee beans has bottomed out, due to an unusually large harvest. I am currently transferring a... significant... amount of currency into those particular markets.” “Expecting a sudden shortage of supply, are we?” Akiko asked mildly, as if she didn’t know. “And what kind of ‘accident’ is about to befall poor Juan Valdez?” Escobar grinned. “The American government is under the impression that a rather large quantity of drugs is being shipped with the coffee, and that more than just innocent beans are being grown in those extra-fertile fields” He gave her his most innocent look. “I’m afraid that most of those fields will be going up in smoke, in exchange for some generous foreign aid donations... As a result, the wholesale cost of your average cup of joe should rise remarkably.” “Careful, or you’re going to start a riot at Starbucks’ nation wide.” Akiko noted wryly. “Oh, perhaps. But in the end, they’ll suck it up and pay” Escobar assured her. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this business, it’s that you can always count on addicts.” “Very good” Tredonme wheezed again. “What else?” Gregor Vladinkoff, head man in the Russian mob spoke up. “As you know, my organization has been looking for a buyer for the ‘item’ we were recently able to acquire...” Akiko was careful to mask her distaste. The ‘item’ in question was, in fact, a fully operational nuclear device, smuggled out of politically unstable Eastern Europe. After Virtual Zemo’s private little war had been fought in her own back yard, she wasn’t eager to see one begun on a global scale. “... I believe we may have found a suitable buyer at last.” Vladinkoff continued. “A Mr. Blofish was able to make the required bid.” “Blofish!” Akiko exclaimed, sitting up in her seat. “Indeed” Gregor gave her an oily smile. “I believe he has plans for some friends of yours.” He was, of course, referring to the Lair Legion, an assignment that her fellow crime bosses had dumped in her lap. Most of them had hoped that the motley crew of heroes would drag her down with them to be ground under Virtual Zemo’s heal. They were less than thrilled when things didn’t quite work out that way. “The Legionnaires represent a significant investment” she responded coolly. “Besides, a strike against them with your little toy would likely take out most of Parodiopolis as well, and a large chunk of our operations with it.” “Your pet heroes are loose cannons, best removed from the field” Gregor shot back. “and instability is good for business... our business, anyway.” Akiko was just about to lay into him again when Mike Cahn, who ran the money laundering operations out of Las Vegas, chimed in. “It doesn’t matter.” He said calmly. “He shall come and scorch the earth, and the deadwood shall fall away, and the growth that will rise in its place will cover the world” “What the hell are you babbling about?” Gregor demanded. “I’m not sure” Escobar answered with a mocking laugh. “Forest management, I’d imagine. Maybe he’s leaving us to become a park ranger.” “It is time.” Cahn answered, rising out of his chair. He pulled open his shirt to reveal a startlingly large quantity of explosives strapped to his chest. And here Akiko had been thinking that he had simply been eating too many shrimp cocktails at Caesar’s. The human bomb from Vegas closed his eyes. “For HIS glory...” The assorted crime bosses that made up the inner sanctum of the Parodyverse’s International Crime Cartel jumped back with alarm, stumbling over their chairs in their haste to make it to an exit. Masamune’s last thought, as Cahn thumbed the detonator in his palm, was how much she hated these meetings... Chapter One “All right, so I’m here” Jarvis said grumpily. He had pulled himself out of bed at three in the morning to answer NTU’s summons to the sub-level lab. “Now what the hell am I looking at?” NTU sighed and stated the obvious. “It’s a multi-phasic, tacheon cloaked, wireless surveillance transmitter.” Jarvis gave him an impatient look. “It’s a bug” NTU clarified quickly, “and I found it up in the rafters... and it wasn’t there last week.” The weariness vanished from Jarvis’ face, and he cast a quick glance above them. “The Lair is bugged?” The gaze he returned to NTU was all business. “How many?” “A lot” NTU answered succinctly. “At least one in every room we’ve checked so far. Zebulon is doing a sweep... discretely.” Jarvis raised an eyebrow. “Whoever is watching us doesn’t know that their cover is blown?” NTU grinned under his face-plate and shook his head. “I found the carrier wave by accident. It was a simple matter to create a video loop and show them an empty lab... at least until I could contact Hallie and enlist her help.” He flipped on a video monitor. “She’s creating a VR simulation of us, from the moment you entered the lab, and we’re broadcasting that signal to our mysterious audience.” The video screen showed Jarvis and NTU hiding behind a large, overturned table, as what looked like a toaster with long spindly legs ran amuck through the lab, occasionally stopping to spout large blue flames. NTU frowned. “Hallie, be realistic” he scolded. “Now why would I create a mobile, combusting, table top appliance?” “I could see it” Jarvis noted. “Lord knows I’ve been afraid to use that toilet you fixed on the second floor. Why the hell does it have a radioactive warning sticker on it?” “A long story...” NTU said grudgingly, “Now... I suppose a mobile, combusting *refridgerator*, yeah, sure... but definitely not a small appliance.” Jarvis watched as the Virtual Jarvis and NTU subdued the toaster. “How long can you keep this up, Hallie?” “Well, indefinitely... or until morning” the artificial intelligence answered cryptically. Hallie had originally been Baron Zemo’s computer, until that whole incident with the Japanese. Now she occupied the late Virtual Zemo’s mainframes, keeping an eye on his virtual world and helping the Legion out occasionally. “I can keep generating virtual doubles of you Legionnaires until the cows come home. The problem is that the longer we try to pull this off, the greater the chance that we’ll be found out. I mean, all it would take is a visual confirmation of what’s being transmitted... Once people wake up and start coming and going, things could get dicey.” Jarvis looked thoughtful. “These bugs... they were planted manually?” NTU nodded gravely. “Not only that, but as extensive as the surveillance goes, they would almost have to have been planted by someone with approved access to the Lair. I don’t see how anyone could have broken in and accomplished all this without being spotted.” “So...” Jarvis said gravely. “One of us is a spy.” “OR...” Hallie interjected, “one Legionnaire is, or was, a fake. Let’s face it, it wouldn’t be the first time that any of you were impersonated. Hell, even I could whip up a half dozen fake Jarvis’s with the movie-gun V.Z. left behind.” “I suppose.” Jarvis noted. “Oh, and, er... don’t mention the ‘half-dozen’ Jarvis’s to Lisa... she might get some exotic ideas.” He started pacing. “So... who knows about this?” “Just you, me, Zebulon and Hallie, so far.” NTU replied. “Although Tina is bound to find out, as well.” “Fine, fine...” Jarvis replied, waving his hand, “I was planning on enlisting her help anyway. Still, let’s keep this from the others, for now... at least until we can gather more information.” He set his jaw. “Alright folks, we’ve got a lot to accomplish before morning. Let’s get Tina over here, and see that Zebulon finishes his search in the next few hours. As for you...” he said, turning back to NTU, “You have three hours to invent something that guarantees that this will never happen again...” Visionary yawned as he waited for the Lair’s security system to admit him inside, hopefully without any malfunction that would get him shot by the automatic ‘stunner’ guns. Dragging himself out of his nice warm bed in the suburbs at 5:30 in the morning to make his commute to the Lair for his shift on monitor duty was rather painful. Somehow, though, he figured that’s what Jarvis had in mind. As luck would have it, the stunner guns did indeed deploy and aim to vaporize his head. However, instead of firing an intense beam of energy at his skull, they simply sprayed his face with what tasted like motor oil. At least, Visionary fervently hoped it was simply motor oil. With a sigh, he entered the Lair, mopping his face with the sleeve of his coat. He desperately needed a cruller. “It’s about time you got here” Jarvis observed as he came into the entryway. He looked at Visionary’s lubricated face. “What the hell happened to you?” “Just one of those days” Visionary replied. “Which days?” “The kind that end in ‘y’.” Visionary answered. Sure, it was an old joke, but Visionary was pretty sure originality was impossible before 10 in the morning. “Uh-huh” Jarvis said unsympathetically. “Well, we need your help down in NTU’s lab.” This actually perked Visionary up. A repreive from monitor duty? Of course, the downside was having to risk one’s life by coming within one hundred yards of any of NTU’s inventions. “Lead on!” He answered enthusiastically. ----- After one look at the machine, Visionary was wishing for monitor duty. “You want to hook my brain up to *that*? “It’s perfectly safe” NTU-150 answered defensively. “So it’s been tested then?” Visionary asked. “Well... no, not actually tested...” the cybornetic inventor replied. “I mean, we thought that it’d be cruel to test it on animals...” “...And Yo wouldn’t let you borrow his purple bunny.” Visionary added cynically. “Well, yeah... there was that.” NTU said. “But I’m sure the machine is perfectly safe.” “Uh-huh” Visionary answered, looking the frightening contraption up and down. His gaze lingered on one of the seats, complete with straps to hold down the wrists of the sitter, and huge electrodes one either side of where one’s head would be. “So... what does it do again?” Jarvis sighed impatiently. “It simply records your brain patterns. Then, the next time you enter the Lair, the security system can check your brain scan against the one we’re making today. That way we’ll know it’s really you.” “Well... How do you know I’m really me today?” Visionary asked. Better to keep them talking and keep himself out of that chair. “Is he?” Jarvis asked Tina, who was sitting casually at a nearby workbench. She concentraited for a moment. “Yes, I’d say so. The love of crullers and football, as well as his distaste for monitor duty would be hard to fake.” The telepath replied. “In fact, his mind would make a good starting point for beginning telepaths. It’s rather distinctively simple.” She looked up as Visionary bristled. “Um... no offence.” Visionary did his best to avoid sending some particularly rude thoughts in her direction. “Well” Jarvis said briskly, “there you go. You’re you, and we have NTU’s personal guarantee that the machine is perfectly safe. Everybody’s going to get scanned anyway.” “So why don’t YOU go first?” Visionary demanded. “Uh... we decided to go in reverse alphabetical order.” Jarvis answered quickly as he lead Visionary over to the chair. “Relax now” NTU said as his tightened the straps around Visionary’s wrists. “This shouldn’t hurt a bit.” “Uh... shouldn’t?” Visionary said in a panic. “Hey, wait! Doesn’t Yo start with a ‘Y’? That comes after ‘V’, doesn’t it?” “Huhm... we’ll have to look into that.” Jarvis answered. “Anyway, why worry?” He reached up to pull a lever and bring the machine to life. “What could possibly go wrong?” Cheryl sighed. It was bad enough that her engineering job forced her to work late at least three days a week, but now she was far behind on her public relations work for the Lair. She checked the clock. Half past ten P.M. Visionary was surprisingly late as well, especially considering that he had reported to monitor duty at 6:00 that morning. She checked the nightly news to see if the Lair Legion was involved in some cataclysmic struggle for the fate of the universe that she might not have noticed. Nothing. She was about to call the Lair when the front door opened. “Ah” she said as Visionary poked his head cautiously inside. “I was beginning to wonder about you.” “We... uh... had a meeting that went late.” he answered hesitantly. “Of course, dear” she replied, returning to her P.R. work. It was an obvious lie. More than likely he had been watching some movie on the Lair’s Cinemax. (She had canceled it on their home cable.) She decided to let it go. She could, after all, get the real story from Lisa tomorrow, and armed with that information, she could wrap him around her little finger. Visionary stood in the entrance way of the the condo. Cheryl glanced at him curiously. “Did you need something?” “Uh...” he replied nervously. “No... no....” he took off his shoes and made his way to the couch. Cheryl tapped her pencil to her chin thoughtfully, then shrugged. She returned to her paper work. “I wish you and you friends would make things a bit easier for me.” she noted. “This is the third angry letter I’ve received from the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.” “Banjooo and spiffy assured me that those beavers had it coming!” Visionary stated defensively. “Yes, dear... I’m sure that they did.” Cheryl answered. “It just gets hard to explain to people who don’t live in the Parodyverse that a flame thrower is acceptable self defense against small furry mammals.” “Well... they were wet, anyway” Visionary replied lamely. “I’m told that they were only slightly singed.” Cheryl didn’t ask if he was referring to spiffy and Banjooo or the beavers. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you... we’re baby-sitting for Lisa on Friday night.” “Hmmm?” Visionary answered, looking up from the television. “Oh, alright... fine.” Cheryl put down her pencil and chewed on her lip, her eyes narrowing. Then she stretched extravagantly. “Well” she said with a yawn, “why don’t we continue this conversation in bed?” She gave him a slightly crooked smile. “I... uh... I was going to watch...” he began. “No. You weren’t. Not tonight.” She answered him. She gathered his hands in hers and led him to the stairs. “I have something much more entertaining in mind.” She left him sitting dumbfounded on the bed as she went into the bathroom to change. “Oh... and dear? You *do* remember that we’re going to the fabric store this Saturday, right?” she called out through the door. “Uh... yeah, right.” he answered. “You’re so good to me” she cooed as she opened the door. Her silk robe rustled as she shuffled up to her husband, who was sitting up straight on the bed. She let her robe fall off her shoulders to reveal her low-cut, black silk nightgown. Visionary’s eyes went wide. That’s when she sprayed him with the mace. “Gah!” the man cried, reeling back and clutching at his eyes. Cheryl followed with a roundhouse kick to the side of the rib cage, knocking the man to the floor. “Did you really think I wasn’t prepared for this?” she asked bitingly as she snatched a large, NTU designed taser from her night-stand. She flicked it on and shoved the electrodes into the man’s back. “I’ve been living here for months, now...” she continued over his convulsive grunts. “So who are you, anyway?” She gave him another jolt. “Anti-Visionary? This ‘Apostate’ character Yo told me about?” She kicked him over on his stomach and thumbed the control on the taser to its highest setting. Holding it ominously close to his face, she hissed “Who are you, and what have you done to my husband?” The man needed a moment to stop twitching before he could answer. “Visionary and I... accidentally switched places...” “And you are?” she asked icily. “Jarvis” he answered wearily. “Now, could you shut that off and let me explain? I’d like to return your husband’s body to him in one piece.” Akiko Masamune crawled out of the rubble that were the remains of the International Crime Cartel’s boardroom. With a weary smile, she thanked God that she had been born a Manga character. Not only was she used to massive explosions, but she had access to all kinds of advanced technology, including the personal force bubble that had saved her life. Her assigned bodyguard rushed to her side. The bodyguards of the other crime lords were frantically digging through the rubble, looking for their lost charges. “Better get a wet-vac and a spatula, boys” she muttered. “That’s the only way you’re gathering up your bosses now...” Not that they could have done much had they been allowed in the room anyway. “What happened?” Her bodyguard asked her. “Something... unexpected.” She replied absently. “Let’s get out of here, I need time to think.” Sitting in the back of her armored limo, she reviewed the implications of the incident. She was now, happily, the senior ranking member of the Cartel. Unfortunately, that was because the rest of them had been blown to kingdom come. Being the only survivor, she was also the most likely suspect in their murders. Somehow she doubted that the other crime families would take her word on what had happened. Mob war was unavoidable now. Every ranking member of every family would be scrambling to take control. That suited Akiko just fine: She was a survivor. The chaos that was about to be installed would be ripe with opportunities, both for power and for the chance to end up like Tredonme, Escobar, Vladinkoff and the others. Staying alive in the coming months would be difficult, yes, but it was a game she was used to playing. Only now there was some other player involved. For “HIS” glory, Cahn had said. Whose glory? Someone wanted the crime families of the Parodyverse at each other’s throats. Cahn’s little prophetic speak reeked of the involvement of some cosmic-entity type. Unfortunately, there were more of them than you could conveniently shake a stick at. Fighting off the other families was going to be a full time job for the Yakusa. She didn’t have the time or the man power for an in-house investigation. Luckily, she had a group that specialized in this sort of thing on a retainer, of sorts. “See?” she chuckled to the ghosts of her former associates. “I told you they might come in handy...” Visionary, posting something at least |
| Mob Rules, part one (Visionary, posting something at least) (14-Sep-1999 19:40:35) |
|
Copyright © Looksmart, Ltd., 1997-1999
All rights reserved.
