“Better Late Than Never” A Tie-In to Untold Tales #299
The pick-up truck bounced along the unlit dirt road that ran off the Interstate 666 Frontage Road, away from Paradopolis, away from the party that came during what could be the last night on Earth.
“Where are we going? Inspiration Point?” Katarina Allen asked from the passenger’s side of the cab. The driver smiled.
“You’ll see,” Dominic Clancy promised.
“So you keep telling me.”
“I thought you liked surprises?” the incognito super soldier teased as they hit another significant rut in the road.
Kat bundled herself tighter in her cashmere shawl, “I do. But I was expecting something a little less rural.”
“Ah,” Dominic twisted his way out of his great coat and passed it over to his car mate, “Well, I hope this doesn’t disappoint you then.”
Before Kat could reassure the Legionnaire that would never be the case they turned off the road onto an even worse track that dipped down and up again, through a grove of bare maple trees before finally stopping at what seemed to be the middle of nowhere.
“We’re here,” the Paragon of Power stated. He reached down and took a flashlight from under the seat “You’ll need this,” handing the torch to Kat.
The trim young woman watched perplexed as Dominic got out to open her door, “Is this a snipe hunt?” she asked before dropping from the cab.
“You’ll see.”
A short walk took the pair to a sandy patch of land adjacent to a frozen over kettle pond. This was where Dominic stopped.
“We own this,” he said to Kat, “Glory and I. The pond, and the property around it. About six acres total.”
Katarina seemed confused, “What for?” she asked Dominic placed his hand over her’s that held the flashlight and guided it to show the boundaries of his purchase, “Is it some kind of old investment?”
“No; we just bought it. It’s where we’re going to live once the house is built. Check my right coat pocket.”
Inside the jacket was a folded up sheet of drafting paper. When opened it revealed the blueprints for a two story farmhouse. Kat noted the calligraphy at the bottom.
“Goofus Dwarf,” she read the signature of the Mythlands refugee who the Man of Might was helping to seek political asylum in America, “He drew this?”
“I was as surprised as you. He said he was more familiar working with gingerbread, but once I explained to him –“
“Dominic,” Kat interrupted, “What’s going on?”
“Lair Mansion is too crowded. It has been for months. So Glory and I decided it was time to find accommodations of our own,” the big man shifted apprehensively, “It may take a while; given how most of the planet’s materiel and manpower is directed towards the war effort. But we’ve already contracted the dwarves to build it. Ahm, we set up a room for you. See?” he tapped the map, “A sewing room. Or spinning room. I wasn’t sure what to call it, but that’s what it’s meant to be. A place where you could do your work, if you wanted.”
Katarina Allen looked up into his eyes, and knew what point Dominic was trying to make with this gesture: it was not the last night on Earth, and that their future was something he was preparing for. If she wanted.
She let the blueprints fall from her hands and hugged Dominic fiercely. He returned the embrace, lifting her up and pressing her cheek to his.
“It’s a good plan,” she murmured tearfully, “I say we go with it.”
Dominic nodded, before adding, “I better go chase them down, before they blow out on to the ice.”
Kat laughed and then stroked the side of her lover’s face, “And then we go back to the mansion,” she said, “so we can celebrate properly.”
*****
Glory was revisiting her favorite dream, the one with the endless bright pastures, the rabbits with jet packs, and Rin Tin Tin when a gentle tapping on her forehead woke her.
“Good Morning,” the Hooded Hood bade as he rose, his long, lean frame blotting out the hearth the Dog Dynamo had fallen asleep by, “if you would be so kind to fetch your master. I would speak to him and feel he has been given enough time to complete his… assignation.”
“The Hooded Hood!” Glory barked in her unique language that the villain now and always had comprehended.
For several moments the pair considered one another, the young Border collie seeming unwilling to move. Finally, the Hood spoke:
“Do not be alarmed, Glory: on my word I have not come to hurt you or anyone else in this house today. However, as the avowed enemy of all mankind I have places to conquer, people to suborn, so if you could-”
“Dominic is coming,” the Canine Champion promised, “He heard me call your name.”
“Yes. Of course,” the Hood’s eyes flashed an eerie green as he ran through and expunged various scenarios in which Mr. Epitome made his entrance, “No, this is to be a private conversation among us… again, that would not be expedient, and would ruin the Goethe collection. My tongue? Really, Miles, what would that accomplish? Ah,” he said with some measure of triumph as the Paragon of Power strode into the mansion’s library, “At last.”
“What do you want, Winkelweald?” Epitome demanded brusquely. Glory loped to his side.
“I am here to make good on the terms of an agreement I made at the beginning of this war,” the Hood gracefully reposed in the ornate throne that had always seemed in his wake, “With your sponsor, the Grey Eminence.”
Dominic was aware of those terms: in exchange for the unseen power broker’s help in thwarting the conspiracy that had taken control of his government, the Hooded Hood was supposed to undo the age regression and memory loss that had mysteriously afflicted Epitome for nearly a year, “Why now?”
“You are about to go into what will be, to this point, your greatest battle. Tactically, it would be prudent for you to have your full wits when that happens.”
“That’s bullshit,” Dominic scoffed, though there was a quaver of doubt in his voice, “You’re up to something. You always are. How does my memory returning benefit you?”
The Cowled Crime Czar waved the accusation away, “In truth, your psychological condition bears little consequence to my plans. There are possibilities for either contingency. Remain ignorant of your past, and a potential threat is defused. Return to the man that you were, and I gain a useful cat’s-paw. Or rather, more useful. You make a highly Competent villain, Miles.”
“That is not true!” Glory challenged, her hackles raised.
“I’m afraid it is, dear. I’m of good judgment on the subject of villainy.”
“Leave her alone,” Dominic demanded, “This is between us, Hood.”
Leaning forward in his chair, the Hood smirked, “Of course it is. Now, say the word so we may be on with it.”
“What are you talking about? You want me to ask you to remove my memory loss?!”
“Indeed. The promise Grey inveigled from me was that you would be ‘afforded the opportunity to regain what you had lost.’ Here is your opportunity.”
Dominic seemed to freeze in place, but his mind was fast at work, analyzing the possibilities, “Forget it. I’m not interested in your help.”
“That’s not what you told me before,” the Hooded Hood noted, “You don’t remember that day, do you Miles, when you begged for me to undo the retcon that unmade your parents?”
“What?” Epitome looked ill.
“Yes. I suppose it was guilt that made you do it. Your father passed not long after: cancer. I wonder, how guilty will you feel when people die because you are too frightened to learn what kind of man you truly are?”
“No!” Glory sprung at the Hood, her razor sharp teeth bared and ready to silence the man once and for all.
In a blur of motion the Man of Might caught her and wrestled her to the ground, “Glory, stop,” he entreated.
Once the canine had regained her composure Epitome rounded on his tormentor, “Congratulations. You’ve managed it so that the kindest, sweetest person I know wants you dead. Quite a fucking accomplishment.”
“My purpose was not to enrage, but enlighten,” the Hooded Hood explained as he stood, “Others will die because you have chosen selfishly.”
“You’re one to talk.”
The simple statement finally brought a reaction from the Hood other than disdain, “Oafish pissant! I have done more, will do more, to stop the Parody Master than you will ever do or ever know!” he seethed.
“Prove it. What’s your scheme, Hood? We all know you have one.”
But the man had regained his composure, and the mask of indifference had been affixed once again, “I will not risk my plans by revealing them to one as intemperate and short-sighted as you.”
“Fine. How about this then?” Dominic took a chance, “Tell me who erased my memory, so I can deal with it.”
The Hood seemed to chuckle at the request, “You would never believe me if I told you.”
“Why not? I thought you always told the truth?”
“Indeed I do. But when the Idiom used the Modification/Erasure of Long Term Engrams Ray to reduce you to your current state, she calibrated it so it would be neurologically impossible for your brain to process any evidence or statement that pointed to her guilt.”
“She did what?!” Glory yelped.
“The Idiom… did…,” the Man of Might seemed to be struggling with the revelation, “No. That’s impossible.”
“Of course it is,” the Hooded Hood concurred, “Now, as entertaining as this encounter was, I am afraid I must depart. Give my regards to Miss Allen,” and his eyes flashed green, and he was gone.
“Dillhole,” Epitome finally said before collapsing onto one of the library’s sofas.
“Yes,” Glory agreed as she rested her head on her friend’s thigh, “Thank you for stopping me from attacking him.”
“You’re welcome. I can’t say that I blame you. When I heard you call his name, I thought about rushing down here, ripping off his jaw, and yanking out his tongue.”
“But you did not,” the Hound of Heroism pointed out.
“No, I did not.”
“You should not listen to what the Hooded Hood said about your past. You were a good person before. A hero.”
“Maybe,” Dominic scratched Glory’s muzzle, “He was right about one thing, though. I am being selfish.”
Glory did not know what to say to this. She was as conflicted as Dominic about his transformation, and unlike him, her mind hadn’t been addled by the Idiom’s M/ELTSER gun. What she feared was what would happen when Dominic did regain his memories? What would he lose in their place?
“If you are being selfish,” she decided, “Then I am being selfish too. Because all I want is for you to be happy.”
The Exemplary Man knew that, but he also knew that in life, there were things that mattered more than happiness.
The End
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