Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Mon Sep 05, 2005 at 05:13:09 pm EDT
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Finding the Mark, Part Two
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Finding the Mark, Part Two


Mr. Epitome rejoined the Lair Legion after being demoted from his position at the Office of Paranormal Security. The Man of Might further distanced himself from the government by resigning and taking a job with the right-wing think tank known as the Panser Institute.


Jay Boaz pressed the “RESET” button on the Training Room Command Console, causing Simulated Mission Program XTC182 to shut down. He smiled when a read-out appeared on screen.

“94.3,” he announced into the intercom, “Nice work, team.”

“94.3? What does that mean?” Mr. Epitome asked as he pried himself from a man-sized, osmium steel mousetrap.

Trickshot snorted, “Don’t worry, Stripsey. Jay’ll fill us in during the post practice jaw session, in his normal, anal-retentive, mind-numbing detail, natch.”

“I’m sure the number represents the percentage of successful rescues of non-combat members to scenarios where you failed,” the Librarian replied dryly, picking dabs of epoxy from his tunic.

“Sorry about the mess, L. Those caulking waldoes had a greater range that expected,” Dancer apologized to the man she had yanked away from a more mountainous barrage of mucilage.

“We can hand out thee accolades and recriminations in the briefing. Everyone has half an hour to clean up before regrouping in the lounge,” Hatman directed.

The Training Room began to recalibrate itself for the next group of participants. It happened to be some students of the Lair Legion’s Junior Program: Fashion Accessory, Harlagaz, Kerry Shepherdson, and Hacker 9.

As the two troupes of heroes passed Mr. Epitome reached down to pick up a bowling ball left behind from the previous exercise.

“Zelnitz,” he called, “Don’t move.”

Then he launched the projectile with the velocity of a howitzer shell.

It shot by the techno-anarchist, less than a foot from his head, before imbedding itself into the Training Room wall. The sound of impact echoed through the chamber.

Dominic grinned and kicked up another ball into his hands, “Did they have gym class in Technopolis?” he asked rhetorically before hurling it at Hacker 9, who was frozen in his tracks with fear. Again, Epitome missed, though this round came inches closer to striking the teen.

“What the @#%$! do you think you’re doing?!” Kerry Shepherdson blurted. The temperature in the room began to rise dangerously.

Epitome ignored it, and her, and sauntered up to the Juniors. As Harlagaz and the Probability Arsonist stood ready to defend their team mate the Paragon of Power reached around Hacker 9 and pulled a ball from its crater.

“Screw with my country again, Dumbass, and next time I won’t miss,” he promised the computer genius as he leaned forward to pry free the second sphere.

“Mr. Clancy! Report to my office!” the voice of Sir Mumphrey Wilton boomed through the chamber.

If the harsh tone of the order concerned Mr. Epitome, he didn’t much show it.

*****


Sir Mumphrey Wilton watched Dominic for a long time before speaking, “Anything you’d like to get off your chest, Mr. Epitome?”

The Paragon of Power shifted in his chair, “I thought the Lair Legion existed to punish criminals, not coddle them.”

Wilton understood, “It is the duty of the Legion to smite the wicked, yes. What we don’t do, however, is engage in bullying and thuggery towards a fellow member.”

“I terrorized a terrorist,” Epitome shrugged, “I fail to see the problem.”

Visionary spoke up from his station behind Mumph, “You don’t see what’s wrong with threatening to splatter a minor with bowling balls hurled at Mach One?!”

“Not that particular minor, no. Zachary Zelnitz is a dangerous meta-criminal who just held the United States hostage because his girlfriend broke up with him. His punishment should be a cell in the Safe, not losing internet privileges and having to read pretentious science fiction novels.”

“That wasn’t Hacker 9, that was a rogue leftover Zemo computer program,” Visionary asserted, “At least as far as you can prove it was,” he added quickly.

Dominic glared at the Juniors’ mentor, “I suppose if I wanted, I could compel Glory to testify as to what really happened in Arkansas, since she witnessed the events in question. However, I would rather not force her to choose between her friends and her duty.”

The accusation hung in the air, adding to the heavy atmosphere of the office.

Sir Mumphrey sighed, “Ah, yes. Miss Glory. Poor girl was put in a bit of a jam, what?”

“Yes,” Dominic stared levelly at Visionary, “She is every bit as conscientious about upholding the rule of law as I am, and yet she’s expected to abide perjury to protect some sociopathic little punk who can’t handle rejection. And his teacher.”

The possibly fake man almost commented on Epitome’s own level of commitment to law and order, but held his tongue. The truth was, he had no idea how the young Border collie felt about protecting Hacker 9, “Is she upset? She didn’t tell us.”

“I’m sure she didn’t want to disappoint you by expressing reservations about your plan to obstruct justice.”

“That will do, Clancy,” Sir Mumphrey rumbled before softening his tone, “Your objection is noted, and I’m sorry you’re angry with how events played out. Not exactly pleased with them myself. But sometimes in this business you have to compromise to ensure the greatest possible good is achieved. You’ll do well to remember that, if you still have an interest in serving with the Legion.”

Epitome nodded, “Yes, sir. I’ll remember.”

After all, Dominic fully expected to offer the same rationalization himself, at some point.

*****


Once Epitome willed his vision to view the infra-red spectrum she was easy enough to spot. Before that he had lost his quarry twice among the roof tops of Seedy Town. She moved swiftly and silently, even with a long bow and a full quiver strapped to her body.

Glory had told Dominic that those weapons were more than they seemed. Forged from a material that made them invisible in darkness, and preternaturally sharp under any conditions, the Dog Dynamo warned her friend, “Those arrows can puncture even your skin, if she shoots you. Which she may do, if she is angry. And Artemis is angry a lot.”

It was the first time the Star Spangled Splendor heard Glory say anything remotely disparaging about anyone. Still, it was necessary that he speak with this woman, whose existence Dominic had no awareness of until recently.

“Miss Ouk. Charlotte,” he called, moving to step into a lighted area so the vigilante could get a good view.

From the opposite end of the roof Artemis pivoted and nocked an arrow, aiming for the middle of Epitome’s chest. It was an instinctive reaction, and lightning quick, and even though he could be across the building in a heartbeat to disarm her it didn’t take away from his admiration.

Artemis relaxed only slightly after recognizing the familiar red, white, and blue costume of Mr. Epitome. She knew, after all, of his transformation, thanks to a leak in the Office of Paranormal Security. At issue was what to expect from him.

“It was difficult to track you down,” the Paragon of Power admitted by way of small talk.

Charlotte stood from her crouch, “Are you looking for a compliment? You’re the one who trained me.”

“Ah, right,” Epitome agreed.

The tall young woman in the blindfold and ball cap walked closer, “Of course, you’d have known that, if the last fifteen years of your life hadn’t been wiped away. Any closer to figuring out who’s responsible for that?”

“I’ve narrowed the list of suspects down to five. When circumstances allow I’ll begin my inquiries.”

“You’re taking time out to hunt me down? I’m flattered.”

“What case are you working on?”

Charlotte Ouk smiled inwardly. She had thought he might try and change subjects. That was his m.o. from before, “There’s a stick-up artist named Poker Face. He’s ‘normal,’ though he suffers from an irrational gaming fetish. He and his crew of like-minded crazies recently robbed a collector of a 17th century Go board. That’s a Japanese version of chess, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I knew that,” Epitome replied testily.

“Poker Face is trying to pawn the set. I’ve gotten word that he’s meeting with a buyer tonight,” Artemis pulled her blindfold down to her neck so Epitome could look directly into her eyes, “This is my case. You can come along if you want, but stay out of my way. I don’t need your help.”

Dominic nodded, “Good. Because if you aren’t able to handle yourself against a thug who’s got a thing for playing cards, then I’m going to have to shut you down.”

Next: Artemis, Mr. Epitome, Poker Face, and the Ass-Raping Ninjas are all headed for a showdown. “Finding the Mark” concludes next week.






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