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killer shrike
Thu Mar 10, 2005 at 12:28:14 pm EST
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Half Repost, Half New Material: The Adventures of Alcheman #15
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The Adventures of Alcheman #15


“Blow, Canada”


Previously: High school teacher Michael Wooster gave his classes an assignment that was near and dear to the fledgling superhero’s heart: the role of metahumans in society. Jenni and Trudi Wooster had an unexpected encounter with mutate rights activist De Brown Streak. And Inspector Rosario Hudson of the Royal Canadian Mechanized Police was one step closer to catching up with the Efficienado, a Robo American who plotted to destroy Canada. For the continuity minded this takes place before Alcheman/Hatman #1-6.

A trio of smart looking teenagers wandered into the Bean and Donut Coffee Bar, looking for a caffeine rush and a bit of inspiration.

“We could do it on this place,” Ezekial Harwoodley offered, referencing the cozy restaurant in which they now sat, “Supposedly this is a hang out for all types of superheroes. We could see how their attendance affects business.”

“The topic is Meta Civics, not Meta Micro Economics,” Steadman Fleck countered as he set up his laptop.

Milla Gastronov agreed, “Other than the photos on the wall, I’ve never seen a superhero in here.”

An attractive young waitress with improbably long jet black hair came to their table, “What can I get you guys?”

“An internet jack, for starters,” Steadman muttered.

“I’m sorry. We’re fresh out. Maybe some vegetarian chili instead?”

After the three gave their orders Milla went back to brainstorming, “I still say the TransWorld Challenge is the best topic.”

“Everyone will be doing it on the Challenge.”

“So? We find a new hook.”

“Such as?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“Brilliant,” Steadman snarked, “This entire project is retarded anyway.”

“Dude, I still can’t believe you busted Wooster’s chops again about the AP test,” Ezekial shook his head.

“Someday he’s going to snap and put your head through a wall,” Milla hoped.

“Wooster needs to realize some of us count on those test scores for grants and scholarships to college. We’re not all from the manor born.”

Ezekial rolled his eyes, “This again? I’m telling you, Wooster’s not connected to the department store chain.”

Steadman Fleck nodded sagely, “Yes, he is. My uncle does contract work for one of its corporate officers, and he said that the family disinherited him years ago. He knocked up a maid or something.”

“Thank you, Dominick Dunne. Can we please get back to the project?” Milla said, exasperated.

“Why don’t we look at the Aryan Ideal and the Pogroms of Purity? It relates to the topic and it’s controversial enough so you know nobody else will choose it.”

Steadman concurred, “That’s actually a good idea.”

Their waitress brought their orders, “Now there’s two phrases you don’t hear together often: “Aryan Ideal” and “good idea.” You guys working on a project for school?”

“We’re supposed to look at a way superheroes affect society, you know, beyond the usual save the world stuff,” Ezekial explained a bit too completely for Steadman’s liking.

“Well, that’s different. And then you, what, write a report on it?”

“Report? We wish. We have to put together a multi-media, learner-directed presentation, using primary sources and allowing for open ended inquiry and discussion,” Steadman explained.

“And it’s got to be at least twenty minutes long,” Ezekial intoned solemnly.

“Wow. Hogan Academy really puts its students through their paces, don’t they?” Sarah Shepherdson asked to no one in particular, though she did plan to question someone specific later on.

*****


“Don’t just yank on it,” Jenni Wooster told her sister Trudi, “Be gentle.”

Joshua Clement agreed, “Yeah. Try wiggling it from side to side first.”

“You two make it sound as though I’ve never done this before,” Trudi Wooster pouted as she wet her fingers.

“Excuse me,” Michael Wooster interrupted from the doorway to his townhouse, “Ah, hello?”

Clement looked up and saw a broad-shouldered man in shirtsleeves and suspenders looming over him and the girls laying sprawled on the living room floor.

“Michael!” Jenni enthused, upending the coffee table and their game of Jenga as she bounded up to hug her brother. Josh rose as well, though not as excitedly.

“Michael? You must be the M Wooster I’m looking for,” DBS nodded, “Hey.”

“And you’re Joshua Clement, De Brown Streak,” Michael offered his hand, “I’m an admirer of your work.”

The mutate freedom fighter/ ladies’ man wasn’t used to this kind of reaction, especially from older brothers to nubile women. They shook hands.

“You’ve been e-mailing a lot of pro-mutate message boards, which, incidentally, is bound to get you on Herbert Garrick’s hit list, so expect to get audited some time soon.”

“I was willing to assume that risk. The information I’m looking for is essential for my research.”

Jenni beamed, “No sense fudging the truth, Michael; we told Josh you’re a superhero.”

Michael sighed- first Honoria, and now this, “Such disclosure defeats the purpose of me having a secret identity.”

“Yeah, anyway, my contacts, er, contacted me, and since I had a few seconds to spare, I decided to answer your questions in person. Of course, I didn’t expect to encounter your charming sisters, here.”

“It was indeed serendipitous,” Trudi agreed with a knowing nod.

“Indeed,” Alcheman said, “I do have some questions for you, Mr. Clement, about the Committee for the Occulation of Paranormal Experiences, and a man named Cyrus Honig.”

*****


The Efficienado rose from his first class seat aboard Maiden Air Flight 343 to London and swatted aside an approaching stewardess. With great speed he charged the cockpit, ripping its reinforced steel door from its hinges. He hoisted both pilots from their seats and drove their heads together, then hurled them forcefully into the navigator.

It was an easy enough task to install the technology that had enabled him to evade the Paradopolis Airport’s own security into the plane. While it was downloading the Efficienado propped up the door and welded it shut with his retractable soldering iron. Then he took the captain’s chair and steered the plane back towards his target.

Back towards Paradopolis.

*****


“Nope. Sorry,” De Brown Streak shook his head after he completed reading COPE’s literature, “I’ve never heard of these guys. Which is a shame, because if they’re sincere, they could go a long way to helping my people, just with the day to day stuff. Employment, housing, etcetera.”

“I very much doubt that they are sincere. COPE seems to be more interested in quashing would-be superheroes more than any type of genuine relief work,” Michael showed the Sepia Speedster a sheaf of letters, “I contacted several meta human prisons in order to ask them about any contacts they may have had with COPE. You would figure an organization interested in mainstreaming super-powered individuals would focus on those with decidedly anti-social tendencies. And yet none of the people I communicated with ever heard of the group.”

“Hm,” Josh leaned back in one of Michael’s kitchen chairs, “Maybe I’m the wrong person to say this, being the unregistered mutate outlaw and all, but even if what you’ve found out is true, what they’re doing isn’t illegal.”

“It’s immoral, and should be exposed as such,” Michael said gravely.

DBS shrugged, “No argument there. I’m just saying if it’s an arch enemy you’re looking for, Velcro Vixen is a lot more entertaining.”

“I don’t think-” Michael began, before being interrupted by the hard charging Trudi.

“They just broke into Access Hollywood!” she announced, “A plane has been hijacked out of Paradopolis!”

De Brown Streak became all business, “Can you fly?”

“Ah, to a point,” Alcheman was slipping on his mask.

“Let’s hope that point’s far enough,” he grabbed his fellow hero and blurred to the airport.

*****


Once at the control tower the pair encountered a setback traditional to the genre: uncooperative authorities.

“Somebody call security!” the chief Air Traffic Controller repeated himself. DBS sighed and blurred away. In a moment he returned with a score of jingling handcuff keys.

“They’re busy. Someone, I’m not naming names, shackled them to the railing.”

Alcheman fell into his genetically predisposed role of ‘Good Cop,’ “We’re here to help. If you could tell us the plane’s current location, we could intercept it.”

“You are interfering in matters of national security!” the man screeched back, “You’re, you’re nothing more than a couple of Osama Bin Ladens!”

“I fail to see the reasoning behind your assertion, sir.”

“He can’t help you,” M.O.U.N.T.-E said as she entered the room, “They’ve lost contact with the plane.”

DBS and Alcheman turned to acknowledge the young woman in the dark trenchcoat.

“Lost contact? Then the plane has already crashed?” Michael worried.

The woman shrugged out of her coat, revealing a stylized red and white catsuit, “No. It’s just shielded. The hijacker is using Robo American Stealthware.”

“Really?” Josh had had dealings with the secretive underground subculture in the past, “You seem awfully well-informed, in addition to well-toned. What’s your name, Sweetness?”

“I’m Inspector Rosario Hudson, of the RCMP. Now, if you’ll let me install some countermeasures to Efficienado’s countermeasures, we can see where he’s headed.”

The dark-skinned agent of the Royal Canadian Mechanized Police unscrewed her left arm and withdrew the required technology to make the airport’s radar workable again.

“Wow,” DBS whistled, “You come with accessories.”

Inspector Hudson smiled once she was done with her tech work, “A bit more utilitarian than the modifications your Compandroid friends had implanted.”

“Compandroids? Oh, the Sex Bots.”

“Sex Bots?” Alcheman echoed in surprised wonder. Superheroing in the Parodyverse was becoming ever more surreal.

“Gentlemen, we have contact,” the Mobile Optimal Utilitarian Nascent Technolgy, Model E examined the radar screen, “Flight 343 has diverted from its course and appears to be coming in for a landing…. here,” she pointed at a spot on the grid, “Now, let me match up those coordinates to my onboard atlas program-“

“You’re real useful to have around. Maybe when this is over we can have a team up that’s more private?” Josh flirted.

Rosario filed the offer in her Contacts Folder for later. Right now she had a more pressing issue.

“He’s taking the plane into restricted airspace. There’s a SPUD R+D installation located there.”

“This Efficienado fellow - what does he want?” Alcheman inquired

“To destroy Canada. Whatever SPUD’s working on there must be a means to that end,” Rosario stood and faced her newfound allies; “We are faced with a decision. If SPUD is notified they’ll have no choice but to shoot down the plane. If we opt to take on this responsibility ourselves and fail millions could perish.”

DBS knew his answer, “I’m going to need directions to the site, Rosie.”

The woman activated her aerial configuration, opening ports in between her shoulder blades and extending her jet pack. A clear plastic screen slid down from her brow, covering her eyes, “I can fly us there. And what about you?”

Alcheman tugged on his lower lip in contemplation, “I…. Yes. Yes, I’m in. Does anyone have a plan?”

“It will take me four minutes, sixteen seconds to intercept the flight,” M.O.U.N.T.-E adjudged, “Plenty of time to come up with one.”

*****


The plan:

M.O.U.N.T-E flew the others to intercept the hijacked plane at 35,000 feet. It was still over the Atlantic, but with its speed and rate of descent the Efficienado would be crashing into his target in less than three minutes. They had to work fast.

Fortunately, that was De Brown Streak’s modus operandi. The Sepia Speedster vibrated his molecules enough to phase into the cockpit and accosted the rogue Robo American.

“All right, Twiki, its time for your 25,000 mile tune up,” Josh announced while buffeting the Efficienado with punches.

The Efficienado was unimpressed. If he was the type of villain who revealed his strengths and weaknesses in glorious self-referential monologues he would have told Josh that his chassis was comprised of reinforced osmium alloys and as such quite impervious to the mutate’s punches. Since he wasn’t he swatted DBS into the cockpit window instead.

Josh used his power to slow the velocity of his impact so as not to crack the glass and cause decompression. Still the blow was enough to make him lose his dinner which would have been bad for his passenger.

“Say hello to my gaseous friend!” he shouted before exhaling Alcheman square in the Efficienado’s face.

Michael pressed one of his tattoos and altered his molecular composition from oxygen to titanium steel. He grappled with his foe, finally gaining leverage and hurling him out of the cockpit into first class. With the Efficienado away from the controls the heroes could now go about saving the day

When Inspector Hudson alighted on the roof of the cockpit she magnetized the soles of her boots so as to stay in place. Then she uncoiled her interface cables in preparation of hacking into the plane’s onboard computer and steering it away from the onrushing catastrophe. She managed to seize control and plotted a path for the plane to land in a small airfield outside Dullard’s Corner. The trick would be keeping the Efficienado away from retaking control manually and the plane itself in tact.

She hoped the boys were up to it.

Alcheman’s punches to the Efficienado were proving to be about as effective as DBS’s. Conversely, the Robo American was quite successful in denting in major portions of the Chemical Crimefighter’s anatomy.

“Stay… calm,” Michael told the terrified passengers in between body blows, “The situation…. is well in… hand.”

DBS got ready to join the scrum taking place in the aisle, but held back. He had a cunning plan:

“Go ‘Wicked Witch’ on him, big guy!”

It took Michael a moment to figure out exactly what De Brown Streak was suggesting, but once enlightened he complied. He pressed Oxygen once and Hydrogen twice to assume the properties of water, and proceeded to drench the Efficienado.

“Are you trying to short circuit my systems? Because my wiring is triple insulated against such an attack,” the Efficienado explained, not realizing that his logic program was suffering a systems malfunction in response to his perfectly timed plan being upset by these organics.

“Nope. We’re going to rust you,” DBS smiled, and concentrated, and willed the oxidation process of metal meeting water to be sped up by a factor of one million.

As his chassis buckled and crumbled and his mainframe entered its hibernation cycle the Efficienado’s last thought was an admission of how well-organized his defeat had been.

*****


The Great White North having been saved, the young men and woman now had an opportunity to pause and reflect on their adventure.

“I asked, you still haven’t been able to ascertain what the Efficienado was after?” Michael Wooster repeated loudly in an attempt to compete with the pulsing techno beat of the disco’s House DJ.

Inspector Rosario Hudson shook her head. She had ditched both the severe black skirt and jacket ensemble she wore when on duty in favor of something more sequined for her night out at the Indigo Void. Her companion, Joshua Clement, approved of the change.

She replied, “No. Whatever SPUD has on site is classified Tip-Top Secret. I don’t have that level of clearance.”

“I suppose I could take a spin around the complex; see what Drury and his goons are up to,” Josh offered.

“Is that wise?” Honoria Sesselby asked, “Going in blind would seem to be a tactical error.”

De Brown Streak smiled and winked at the brawny blonde Alcheman had introduced to the heroes as a ‘confidant’, “Oh. Sure.”

The Sepia Speedster put down his drink and took Rosario’s hand, “But that run can wait: the dance floor summons us.”

Clearly amused, MOUNT-E shot back, “Oh, is it?”

“Surely your bionically enhanced- though still quite shell-like- ears can pick up its siren song. We are powerless to resist,” and with that being the case, Josh swept his new friend into the crush of dancers.

Honoria stared expectantly at Michael.

“Ahm. Right,” he absently kneaded his knuckles. Finally he relented, “Would you care to dance, Honoria?”

The pair walked away from their table and joined the revels.

“She’s a very attractive woman, isn’t she?” Honoria asked Michael as she fruged.

“Who?”

“Inspector Hudson. I’ve noticed your furtive glances in her general direction.”

In actuality, Michael had been looking over at DBS hoping to glean some dance moves to mimic so he would not look quite so spastic, but for the sake of simplicity admitted, “Er, yes. I suppose.”

“A pity she is so taken with Joshua,” Honoria slithered about a bit before confessing, “I worry about your personal life, Michael. Or lack thereof.”

“Ah!!!”

The woman stopped dancing, “Someone catch your foot?” confident it was not her stiletto heel that was to blame.

Michael shook his head and said a strangled, “No.”

The music’s tempo slowed. Honoria stepped closer and twined her bare arms across Michael’s shoulders, “It concerns me that you have let one aspect of your life atrophy while focusing only on others.”

He nodded madly, having a bad idea where this conversation was headed. Until this moment Honoria had been content to merely insert herself into his second career of superheroics, but if she felt he was letting his character decline in any conceivable way –

“You need to make more of an effort to socialize. I will not be around forever, you know.”

“You won’t?” Michael asked with a slight sense of growing optimism.

Her ex-fiancée made a curious face, “No. I may be on sabbatical, but the college expects me to have something published on before fall semester.”

“Of course.”

“And then there is my relationship with Donald,” she commented off-hand.

Michael appeared stunned, “Who?”

“Donald Branson. My lover. You remember Donald,” she insisted.

He did. Donald Branson, billionaire real estate developer and world class thrill seeker, was an old friend of the Wooster family. A protégé of sorts to Michael’s own father Malcolm, everything the man did was an ostentatious display purposefully designed to reveal his pre-eminence.

It was as if he had been custom made for Honoria, though more likely the opposite, considering Branson had to be older than the woman by close to two decades.

“You’re seeing Uncle Donald? Well, that’s wonderful!” Michael enthused.

Honoria stiffened at the title her friend had given her beau, but answered “Yes. I’m glad you approve.”

“Very much so,” and in demonstration of his endorsement, Michael gave his ex-fiancée an old school twirl and then dip to the waist.

“Michael!” Honoria blurted from her not-quite prone position, surprised her childhood friend would make such a spectacle in public.

He swung her up and beamed, thinking all facets of his life were on an upswing themselves.

*****


It was a good thing De Brown Streak had other entertainments to occupy his evening, instead of investigating the SPUD facility the Efficienado had been so determined to crash into. Because if he hadn’t the Sepia Speedster would have learned some unpleasant truths, foremost of which was the spy organization were not the ones minding the store.

“Status?” Harmanda Barriere demanded of the agent that walked alongside her.

“The Efficienado is in custody, but still nonresponsive. The techs don’t think we’ll be able to get to his hard drive. Passenger interviews conducted by the NTSB and OPS indicate it was in fact De Brown Streak and Alcheman who took the Robo American down. Also, when our boys hacked into Flight 343’s navigational computer they got traces of a worm the Canucks developed for their cyber-espionage division.”

“So the RCMP’s involved in this,” the robust woman noted, “Nice of them to let us know they were operating on American soil.”

Ms. Barriere halted in front of the door behind which SPAM was holding the prisoner, and Efficienado’s obvious target. She let the various scanners check her palm and retinal prints. Satisfied, the guards on the inside manually pushed open the steel door to grant entrance.

They were led into a second room, where they were searched by hand and any electronic devices were confiscated. Then a second door was unsealed, and a squadron of men clad in hard ceramic armor and wielding crossbows escorted Harmanda and her aide down a torch lit hall to the prisoner’s cell: a three foot thick sphere of reinforced concrete which was rippled with layers of liquid nitrogen.

“The Technovore virus is still secure, ma’am,” one of the SPAM agents reported after saluting Barriere.

“Good,” she nodded briefly, “Because the only way we’re letting him out is under our terms.”

“Ma’am,” her aide cautioned, “We’re going to be late for the Project: Kuckoo briefing.”

“What have you been doing, Agent Saunders: been counting the seconds since you dropped off your watch at the security checkpoint?”

“Yes, ma’am. The Efficienado isn’t the only one with a fetish for punctuality.”

Harmanda Barriere smirked, “I knew I kept you around for a reason, Pendrick.”

Satisfied that the day had been indeed been saved (even if it had been done so by rogue and foreign elements), this most dangerous woman went back to work where the world was a little less medieval.




Next: Alcheman meets Trickshot. Agnes Wooster meets the Baroness. Ivan Strode meets Red and his Trusty Knife. And the reader gets to meet Donald Branson and his friend Alexander- from Macedonia. “Feuds, Familial and Otherwise.” Out soon.


Footnotes:

Alcheman #15 takes place before Alcheman #14, the Crisis crossover. It picks up on some plot points introduced in Alcheman #13, such as Michael’s Civics assignment to his students and DBS meeting the Wooster twins at Michael’s townhouse.

Bean and Donut Coffee Bar: is the Lair Legion’s favorite hangout, and also serves as the place of employment for Sarah Shepherdson, aka the Probability Dancer. We’ll see who she wants to talk to and why probably around Alcheman #17.

De Brown Streak: as previously mentioned, he puts in a cameo in Alcheman #13. Now we see why he was looking for “M Wooster.” There is a mention of Sex Bots in this story, a reference to events in De Brown Streak #6 or #7, when a villain uses the ‘Bots to trap our hero. DBS gets away, of course, and managed to er, liberate the ladies in question.

Robo Americans: are a secret race of self-producing androids, supposedly originally created by the scientist Weed Writchards. The late, lamented Mindy Pyrite was one, Rosario is another, as is the villainous Efficienado.

Doctor Sesselby, I presume: Honoria holds twin doctorates in cryptozoology and cryptoanthropolgy, and in between adventures (and bouts of meddling) lectures at a nearby college. I was originally going to make it be Miskatonic University (or “Olde Misk”), but now with the recent Cthullu stuff going on in Untold Tales I’ll probably change it.

Harmanda Barriere and the Alphabet Soup: Dr. Barriere is a new character, though a parody of someone near and dear to many a comic geek. Of the organizations she mentioned SPUD is the Supreme Principal Undercover Directorate, the NTSB is the National Transportation Safety Bureau, OPS is the Office of Paranormal Security, and I don’t have the clearance to tell you what SPAM stands for.

Technovore: is a sentient computer program with the metahuman ability to mould technology around it. Inhuman, merciless, and sadistic, Technovore was classified as a Level 10 threat in Technopolis.



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