“But Honoria, I’ve already attended the first three lectures. I fail to see why I need to be present for a fourth time.”

    “Hatman is one of the most respected members of the superhero community. As you have said, you were present for three of the lectures he has given at Paradiopolis University, but you have yet to initiate contact. Networking is an important part of breaking into any new field, even that of superheroics. You need to go and introduce yourself.”

    “I think I’d rather be a little more established as a superhero before walking up to the Deputy Leader of the Lair Legion and saying ‘Hello, I’m a new superhero called Alcheman, may I have a job please?’.”

    “Hatman is currently the Senior Tactical Advisor as well as the Emergency Services Liaison; he has not held the position of Deputy Leader since his apparent death. Really Michael, you have to keep up with current events, especially in your own field of endeavor. I won’t always be here to look after you, you know.”

    “I appreciate your help, Honoria, but I do not need ‘looking after’, as it were. I am a grown man, and I am capable of doing things for myself.”

    “Fine. I will spend the rest of my evening attending dinner and a show, while you go and introduce yourself to Hatman. On your own.”

    The conversation still echoed in Michael Wooster’s mind. Somehow he was still stuck with the task he didn’t want while the woman who wanted it done took in a performance of ‘Chicago’. He sighed and took his seat in the front row; Honoria had purchased the ticket and had seen to ensuring he was as close to the Legionnaire as possible.

    The first time Michael had attended the lecture he had paid special attention. Though he was actually older than the Capped Crusader, he was by far the junior in terms of superhero experience. The second time around he was still interested, but, as the lecture was basically the same, his mind attempted to wander occasionally. The third time only Honoria’s presence forced him to feign hanging on every word.

    And here he was, again, in the same seat, for the same lecture, only this time Honoria was not present. He had debated on the way over simply skipping the lecture, but he was worried that Honoria would find out. Somehow, someway, she always found out.

    Michael settled into his seat and waited for the lecture to start. He hoped that, on the final night, Hatman might change things up a bit, but he doubted it. The Capped Crusader would more than likely want to give everyone an equal experience.

    Michael focused on the stage as the lights dimmed, signifying the beginning of the lecture. He sighed and settled in for his fourth, and thankfully he admitted to himself, last viewing.

    First the Dean of the university stepped forward. Michael began running through chemical compositions in his head; he had heard the introduction enough times that he almost had it memorized. The applause roused him from his mental exercises as Hatman took the stage.

    “Thank you, Mr. Lieber, and thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for having me. I’m here tonight to talk to you about the role of superheroes in modern society. Over the years society has seen a great many changes. And, as such, so has the costumed crimefighter. Where once superheroes were only called on in a protective, reactive role, superhumans, hero or otherwise, find themselves filling multiple niches in the world.”

    Michael waited for Hatman to begin educating the audience on some basic history of the evolution of the superhero, but to his surprise a voice from the back of the room interrupted him.

    “Your time in particular is over, Hatman!” Two full rows of what appeared to be students stood abruptly and shed their street clothes to reveal solid white bodysuits with a red international ‘no’ sign on their chest. They quickly spread out through the room, wielding expensive looking weaponry. The man who addressed Hatman strode down the center aisle, his outfit identical but for the white cape. “You humiliated us once before, but now we are back, and stronger than ever!”

    Michael was rooted to his seat, unsure of what to do. He didn’t recognize the man and his minions, and as such had no idea what he was dealing with. He decided to bide his time to learn about the villains. He watched Hatman to see what he would do.

    “Please remain calm, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll deal with this. How about we let the civilians go, and you and I can discuss your problem with me like rational adults?”

    “Don’t patronize me, Hatman! I nearly defeated you last time, and this time I won’t fail!” It seemed clear to Michael that the man was not going to let his hostages go.

    “Nearly defeated me?” To Michael’s eye, the Capped Crusader looked confused. Michael shared the confusion. Honoria had had him study all the records they could find concerning the Lair Legion, and he was fairly certain that if this man had come close to defeating Hatman in combat, he would recognize him. Surely Hatman himself should.

    “Don’t deny it! Were it not for the interference of that cow-woman the day would have belonged to Lactose Intolerant and Lactose Intolerance Inc.! But I’m ready for you this time, Hathoser!” challenged Lactose Intolerant.

    Michael remained unsure of what to do. He didn’t want to presume that Hatman needed help and offend him, but it seemed to him that the Legionnaire was very outnumbered. Would he be infringing upon the other hero’s action, or would his help be appreciated?

    “Lactose Intolerance…I remember you now. If you want a rematch, I’ll give you one. But first let these people go.” Michael made note of how Hatman tried to safeguard innocent lives first.

    Lactose Intolerant nodded to one of his men. The man swiveled and fired his weapon at the stage, devastating the wall behind Hatman.

    “I think we’ll be doing things my way, Hatman. You see, it’s been circulating in the underworld that you’ve lost your Hatility Belt. And since I can’t smell the cap you used to defeat me last time, I would bet that you don’t have it with you. Combine that with the fact that my men are armed with Skunk weaponry, and, well, I don’t think you have much control over this situation,” sneered the villain. “Unless you do battle with us, now, we’ll kill everyone in this building!”

    Michael did not envy the decision being placed on the Capped Crusader’s shoulders. Should he do battle, innocent people were sure to be hurt in the crossfire. If he didn’t, then they would all be killed. Michael began to fumble in his pocket for his Alcheman mask.

    Then the muzzle was pressed to his head.

    “Starting with this guy.”

To be continued…