Previous Post The Compound: Part One – Gathered A Hallowe’en story for the Parodyverse     Existing oil reserves are predicted to last for anything from twenty-five to sixty years, with significant shortages manifesting well before the end of that projected period. While this will have a short-term benefit for oil importers and refiners there is significant long-term risk unless other reliable energy sources are discovered.     The attached proposal posits an entirely new energy source based upon my own research and that of industry leaders. For a relatively low capital outlay – a suitable research site, access to appropriate technology, trained personnel, and the other items outlined in Annex B, and at a nominal cost of around $0.7bn over a two year schedule – it should be possible to develop such a source to bring about a new tomorrow.     Annex C outlines the risk/cost benefit and demonstrates that the project, while controversial and requiring a range of unconventional techniques, is almost completely safe. Except from Summary of a Research Proposal by Dr Ludovick Trenchcoat ***     Alto Tumour’s Second Hand Occult Books and Postcards store was a dingy little walk-in on Ditko and Ploog on the seedy Hogan side of Gothametropolis’ urban centre. Most of the street lights weren’t working and the shop itself was dusty and gloomy. It smelled of joss sticks and ganja and too many curries from the Indian take away next door. Great uncatalogued stacks of grimoires and pamphlets were piled on and beside shelves from floor to ceiling. There was a rack of curses by the door.     Arnie J. Armbruster had to push quite hard to get inside because the door stuck, and he had to step over the wino sleeping outside. He took a look around the dim cluttered store and muttered, “Wow, and I thought my office sucked.”     The store owner looked up from a copy of The Alko Tabloid (with the interesting engravings on page three) and stared at Arnie over grubby half-moon spectacles. “Yeah?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Vincent De Soth?” Arnie asked cautiously. “Aura cleansing and spiritual renovation?”     Alto Tumour lost interest again. “In the alcove behind the pile of crap over there,” he pointed. “Tell that bum he still owes me rent.”     Arnie nodded, but persisted. “Could you be specific about which pile of crap, exactly?” he asked.     With some more terse and unfriendly directions from the proprietor, A.J.A was able to climb over a fallen tower of Victorian spiritualist treaties and around a hundred different paperbacks on crystal healing and find the little space beneath the rickety stairs to the upper floor. A very young man with long brown hair looked up from his PC and regarded the visitor hopefully. “Yes?” he asked helpfully. “Oh, hold on… I have a name badge here somewhere!”     Arnie waited as the young man shuffled through the pile of paperwork overflowing from his cheap wobbly desk.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I know it’s here somewhere,” Vincent De Soth sighed in defeat at last. “It was a really good badge too. It said ‘Hello, My Name Is Vinny De Soth. How May I Raise Your Spirits?’”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Shame I missed that then.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah. And it cost me $3 to have it laminated. Damn.” The young man became aware that a potential client was looking at him a little bit oddly. Again. “Er, sit down,” he offered. Then, counting the number of chairs available in the crowded corner he called his office he quickly got up and pushed his own seat to the visitor. “Be careful because one of the castors is a little bit loose.”     A.J.A seated himself cautiously. He ventured a glance at the computer screen, which seemed to be filled with e-mails from people wanting remote tarot readings. “You’re Vincent De Soth, then,” he confirmed.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Vinny. Call me Vinny. Only my father calls me Vincent. Well, used to. He doesn’t call me now. Or he calls me Blockhead. Or Ineffectual Disappointment.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay.”     Vinny became aware that he was giving far too much information. “So, er, how may I minister to your spiritual-stroke-psychological-stroke-karmic needs, mister…?”     Prompted at last, Arnie remembered his business card. “Oh yeah. Arnie J. Armbruster, Attorney at Law. And private investigator. And sometimes wedding minister.” He held up a crumpled rectangle for Vinny to see.     Vinny tried not to recoil from the cloud of alcohol fumes surrounding what he hoped would be his client. “Welcome, Mr Armbruster. Did you need your aura cleaning? Or maybe your kidneys?”     Arnie looked around him at the little rack of pamphlets: Jinx Removal and Cosmic Rebalancing; Psychic Questing and Lifestyle Development; Discounted Exorcism Rates; Feng Shui Cookery Consultation; Hygienic Poltergeist Removal; Celestial Planar Alignment Predictions and Elementary Precautions. “So you’re a psychic, right?”     Vinny winced. “Well, psychic is a very misused word,” he suggested.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Cause I need to hire a psychic.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“But in layman’s terms that’s a very good description of me, yes,” Vinny concluded quickly. “Do you need help casting out the malign psychic entities that drive you to habitual abuse of alcohol?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“You leave my malign psychic entities alone,” A.J.A. growled. “Without the habitual abuse of alcohol what is life anyway?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, sorry. I just… You have a very odd karma. In a good way, of course. I’m not judging.”     Arnie sighed. “Look kid, I’m just doing my job. I was hired to find some psychic to go investigate some kind of problem that I don’t even want to know about. I’ve dragged this on as long as the per diem’s gonna allow it, so now I need to find the goods. My old buddy Mystic Marv’s up and vanished, Xander the Improbable is way out of town, and that Sorceress woman threatened to turn me into… well, that doesn’t matter. So I checked the phone book and, well, you looked cheap.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I am,” Vinny promised him. “Er, that is, inexpensive. Inexpensive but good. Satisfaction guaranteed. Well, when I say guaranteed I mean guaranteed except for you ever getting your money back.” He took a deep breath and managed a shallow smile. “Did I mention that there’s a ten percent discount for cash up front?” ***     The Bell 206 luxury helicopter set down on the roof of the ZOXXON Oil Corporation building in Dallas and the flight crew helped Vinny De Soth down onto the landing pad.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thanks again,” the young exorcist told them. “And sorry about puking on your leather seats. I’m usually really good at flying. I sat on my first dragon when I was three. But I’m not so good at the technological flight stuff, I guess.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Not a problem, sir,” answered the steward with a fixed professional smile. “Pleasure to have flown you, sir.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thanks for the brown bag to breathe into too. That was thoughtful.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Not at all, sir. I believe they’re waiting for you in the reception lounge.”     Vinny nodded, handed the brown bag back, and hurried away from the rotor turbulence into the glass-walled opulence of the penthouse suite.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mr De Soth?” a perfect 10 of a receptionist asked him with a perfect 10 of a smile. “This way please.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Anything you say. Really.” Vinny trailed after the young woman like a dog following a bone.     Montgomery Hole’s office covered the entire 116th floor of the skyscraper, and was the biggest indoor space Vinny had ever seen that wasn’t a mall, a basketball court, or a mystically-folded n-space. At one end, framed by a plate glass wall looking out over urban Dallas, was a twelve-foot long desk that was utterly clear except for a nameplate that said: Vice-President (Alternative Projects Resolution). It took Vinny a few moments to realise that there was a man sat behind the desk, and a woman sat opposite him.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mr De Soth,” Montgomery Hole called, rising up to offer a handshake. “Thanks for coming. I know your father.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Ah. Shall I go now, then?”     Monty Hole blinked. “Sorry? What?”     The woman lounging in the executive chair looked up to translate. “What Vincent De Soth means is that he’s estranged from his family of prominent and somewhat sinister paranormal practitioners, and had a rather catastrophic fall-out with his father Asteroth De Soth on the question of active participation in the recent Parody War.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“On the said against the Parody Master,” Vinny clarified anxiously.     The woman went on, turning to the exorcist. “What Mr Hole means is that he is an outer circle member of the Heck-Fire Club where your father is active, and that his father and your father are occasional business associates. Can we get on, now? I’m only helping out your corrupt grasping arrogant mega-corp because you agreed to halt the oil drilling in Marie Hynd Land that’s wiping out the king penguin. I don’t have all week.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Very soon, Ms Gahagan. We’re just expecting one more set of arrivals,” Monty answered, trying to placate the impatient woman. “My old college buddies, actually. Sure, we’ve grown apart over the years, but when the chips are down…”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Al B. Harper won’t be coming,” the woman interrupted him. “Don’t you watch the news? That business with the elevator murder? The Hatman/CSFB! footage? The nuns?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Um, I didn’t get to hear the news on the flight down,” admitted Vinny apologetically. “There was this brown paper bag and…”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“It doesn’t matter,” Letitia Gahagan said. “All that matters is that Harper and Framlicker won’t be available for school reunion. We’ll somehow have to muddle on without them.     Vinny put his hand up. “Excuse me,” he said to Montgomery Hole, “but did you know you had a timespace event in the corner of your office?”     The Vice-President of ZOXXON looked puzzled. “A what?”     Letitia glanced over at the corner then down at a PDA strapped to her wrist. “Oh, that,” she said dismissively.     Void folded different parts of reality together and a young Chinese woman stepped out into the office. “Sorry I am late,” she said. “Dr Harper and his Extraordinary Endeavour Enterprises are unable to help you at the moment. Dr Harper asked if I could offer my assistance in your investigation.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Liu Xi Xian,” Letitia supplied. “Chinese national with natural metahuman gifts around the five traditional Eastern elements. She’s vaguely associated with the Lair Legion and the Manga Shoggoth.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“The Idiom,” Liu Xi responded, recognising the trim brunette in the jeans and loafers. “Supervillain escapee from custody, formerly hiding out in Badripoor, old enemy of Mr Epitome.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I always preferred to think of myself as a free thinker,” Letitia responded. “And of course, since I played a useful role in preventing the conquest of the universe in the Parody War I was included in the list of wanted individuals who received amnesties from the grateful governments of the world.” She smiled thinly at the elementalist. “Of course, I didn’t sleep with the Parody Master’s right hand man or anything, but…”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Neither did I,” snapped Liu Xi, her cheeks reddening.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“So,” said Vinny, raising his hand and waving. “Hi.”     Liu Xi forced her temper under control. The room got warmer again. “Hello,” she said, bowing her head slightly to Vinny De Soth and to Monty Hole. “How may I assist you?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Quite the team you’ve put together, Monty,” the Idiom agreed. “So what’s the problem?” ***     The helicopter hovered over the wetlands so the passengers could look down over the research complex. Only one passenger actually vomited down onto it.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Excellent political comment,” the Idiom approved as Vinny retched. “The natural reaction of all right-thinking people to corporate capitalism.”     Liu Xi Xian stared down on the collection of temporary buildings and the main concrete block. A black ribbon road had been cut through the swamp, granting access to the distant interstate. A chain-link fence surrounded the compound. There were around forty cars in the parking lot but no sign of movement. “Where is everybody?” she wondered.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“This isn’t a good place to put a research facility,” Vinny argued. “This site borders onto the Wookiegetlucky Swamp, the Nexus of Unrealities where the walls between dimensions get thin.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s true,” Liu Xi agreed. “I can feel it.” The elementalist realised that she’d have to be very careful here. If she tired to pinch the fabric of the void, to manipulate elements to grossly, she could tear the very substance of time and space. That limited her powers considerably, and that made her nervous. “Things are… shifting, just behind the barriers. Why did they pick a place like this?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“For that very reason, I imagine,” Letitia suggested. “I think there’s some kind of meme that says that if you’re going to do mad science, try to create a brand new energy source for a new tomorrow, you really have to plant your facility right on the edge of a cosmic junction so you can open the door to hideous beings from blasphemous outer realities just by loading your stapler wrong.”     Captain Harker was an ex-SEAL officer and now he headed a ZOXXON security division. He’d come along dressed in camo fatigues and he carried assault weaponry. “According to our intel the entire compound is indeed deserted. Everyone who worked at the place vanished sometime between 1420 hours yesterday and 0200 hours this morning. A security detail that investigated went off the grid at 0440.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hence Montgomery’s sudden interest in his old rolodex,” noted the Idiom.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Can we land?” asked Vinny anxiously. “Please?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sure, why not?” agreed Letitia. “That way we can vanish quicker ourselves.”     Captain Harker looked back at the two security guards in the rear of the chopper. “Secure the LZ,” he ordered. “Stankey, take us down.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Going down,” agreed the pilot. ***     The sun was setting behind the stubby trees, painting the waters between them orange. The long shadows cast a chainlink pattern from the fence all the way across the compound.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ve checked the security hut,” Captain Harker announced as he returned to the others beside the powered-down helicopter. “There’s no sign of damage. Last log entry was routine, at 3.55.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Can we get power going again?” Vinny wondered. “It’s going to get dark soon.”     The Idiom glared at her wrist monitor with annoyance. “Advanced technology doesn’t react well with that Nexus of Unreality,” she complained, “but I thought I’d put adequate shielding around this thing. Damn.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“The power generators are that way,” Liu Xi told them. “In that hut.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Fine,” sighed Letitia. “I’ll go do something brilliant with them.”     Harker detailed a guard to accompany her.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do we have any idea what kind of research they were doing here?” Vinny asked the officer. “I mean, what kind of alternative energy were they looking for? Solar? Wind? Not nuclear, I hope. Because if it was nuclear, I was kind of hoping to have kids some day.” He caught Liu Xi’s eye and blushed. “Not with you,” he clarified. “Not that I mean I wouldn’t like to have… I mean, I’m not thinking about you and me having… “     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I have no information about the nature of Dr Trenchcoat’s research here, sir,” Captain Harker interrupted for humanitarian reasons.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“There might be records in that main building,” Liu Xi considered.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s on lockdown,” Harker explained. “That means no access until we have power again.”     Liu Xi passed her hand over the keypad and willed it to activate. The security seal broke and the blast doors slid open.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Plasma control,” Vinny noted. “Cool.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“One of us has to be,” the elementalist answered with a little smile.     Just then the ribbons of lights around the base perimeter switched on. Letitia emerged from the generator hut wiping her hands on one of the guards’ tunics. “Somebody had shut it down,” she announced. “The generator was powered off by somebody who knew the security codes.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“So this might have been an inside job,” Captain Harker speculated. “A sleeper agent infiltration from HERPES or BALD or the Camorra Macchina or Baroness von Zemo…” He paused and looked over at the Idiom. “Or you.”     Letitia Gahagan shrugged. “Better keep a close eye on me, Captain. I’m mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Maybe we should just go in and fine out what happened?” Liu Xi suggested. “Carefully.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“We should,” agreed Vinny. “Maybe this is all just a misunderstanding? Some kind of office party that got out of hand?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh yes, I’m so glad we got you on the team instead of Harper and Framlicker,” noted Letitia. “Lead the way then. If you die we’ll know it’s not safe.”     Vinny De Soth cautiously ventured into the lobby. The main block was a concrete bunker. The majority of it was underground.     Liu Xi checked the signing in book. “Everybody was already here by 9.10am,” she noted. “Fifty-four staff. Nobody signed out.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do we have floor plans for this place?” Vinny asked Letitia. “Schematics?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Very classified, apparently,” Letitia told him. “Access totally restricted. And believe me, I tried.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Doesn’t Mr Hole have them?” Liu Xi asked.     The Idiom snorted. “Monty only has his job because his dad’s the CEO of the company,” she told them. “He’s VP of ‘Alternative Projects Resolution’. That’s a euphemism for ‘in charge of taking out the trash’. He’s been dumped with this clean-up because nobody else wanted it. And he’s dumped it on us.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“But we get paid, right?” Vinny checked. He still owed back-rent to Alto Tumour.     The last guard moved into the lobby. The cicadas were gathering outside and the mosquitoes were getting ambitious. As soon as he crossed the threshold the security door triggered again and rumbled shut.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?” Letitia demanded. “Who did that?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Ooh!” Vinny warned, looking round. “Mystic wards! Who put mystic wards up to trigger when that door closed?”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I can’t feel anything outside this building,” Liu Xi gasped. “It’s like being blindfolded.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well, at a guess I’d say these ‘mystic wards’ were blanking out your elemental perceptions,” the Idiom told her, “and I’d surmise they were placed here by whoever set this trap for us.”     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I can’t over-ride the door,” Captain Harker called. “Ms Gahagan, could you…?”     Then the power died again.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Right on cue,” sighed Letitia. “And next…”     Liu Xi cupped her hand and summoned a glow there. The dim illumination cast long shadows around the darkened reception area; but the light was good enough to pick out the tall leather-clad man with the chainsaws where his forearms should be.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“How does he ever go to the toilet?” wondered Vinny, just before the killer lunged for him. *** Next Time: The secret of Dr Ludovick Trenchcoat’s greatest work, an exciting new energy source for a new tomorrow, and Vinny De Soth concludes that he’s accidentally received the karmic debt of Attila the Hun. *** Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2007 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2007 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.

Wasn't AJA & Arnie J. Armbruster 2 people: The creator & the created?