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The Hooded Hood picks up the tale once more

Subj: #345: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: More Candidates - Part Seven: Ghost Story
Posted: Sat Jul 31, 2010 at 08:03:38 am EDT (Viewed 13 times)


#345: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: More Candidates

Go to Part Five: The Last Thing That Went Through His Head
Go to Part Six: Prisoner: Cell Block X
Go to Part Seven: Ghost Story

Previously: CrazySugarFreakBoy! has announced the new line-up of the Lair Legion – and Visionary as it’s new chair. This is news to Visionary. And the new line-up. And the government.

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***


7. Ghost Story

    Overseer Chavez had a reputation for being a real hardass. He slammed into Biolab 3 in a foul mood, waving the readout datapad that had provoked his temper.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What the hell is wrong now, people? We’re four hours behind schedule. Four hours. Again. What is it this time? Nanoplasma programming cascade? Gene-sequencer alignment coil diffraction? Windows Vista lockout? Or did the damn coffee machine just break down and you decided you didn’t mind getting executed for being late with Baroness von Zemo’s hyper-ebola order?”

    A dozen scientists and technicians in B.A.L.D. rubber shell suits, lacking the traditional full-head beekeeper’s mask but complete with high-tech pocket protectors, stood and stared silently at their angry supervisor.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“We have a contract, people. We have a deadline. As in, if we don’t deliver the contract on the agreed schedule we will all be dead. If the Baroness doesn’t kill us for not delivering her sentient flesh-eating bacillus in time for the supermodels award ceremony then MODEM will. We are B.A.L.D. - Blatant Anarchists Loving Destruction – and we sell our science genius wherever it will weaken the government of the world to prepare for our inevitable global dominance. We do not stop to gossip about talent shows, soap operas, or what went wrong between Brad and Angelina. We do not even speculate about Rochford here’s strange facial mole, although we may need to dissect his face later in the interests of science. We press on, reliable, inspired, forging a new future by our genius and – why are you people all staring at me like that?”

    The roomful of evil scientists remained motionless. Overseer Chavez felt something very cold and sharp prick into his neck.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“They’re not staring at you,” Citizen Z told the overseer. “They’re staring at me.”

    Chavez felt a chill scurry down his spine. At the periphery of his vision a ragged purple and black cape fluttered in an unperceived wind.

    Technician Lugg raised a trembling finger and pointed at the intruder. “Dude, you got a superhero behind you,” he advised Overseer Chavez unnecessarily.

    Citizen Z’s hand was cool. It felt colder as it took the tech-pad out of Chavez’s hand.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Talk to me,” CZ urged in low, menacing tones. “Beth von Zemo hired your research unit to make her new bio-toys. Stuff she couldn’t source from the diabolical Dr Moo because Moo still has a few ethics. Talk me through what she wanted.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You can’t get away with this,” Overseer Chavez told the intruder. “Already our advanced detection systems will have warned of your arrival. Our advanced defence countermeasures will destroy you. BRAWLER warriors. Dreadbots. Pain drones. The product of a decade of genius, distilled into one assault suite of lethal brilliance focussed upon your destruction.”

    Technician Lugg winced but held his finger up again. “Yeah, she made us turn that off,” he admitted.

    The knifepoint squirmed to prick Chavez’s flesh. “You are wrong,” Citizen Z advised. “I’m not a superhero. Superheroes have codes. Morals. Restrictions. Most don’t kill. Most won’t torture. I’m a vigilante, on a mission of vengeance. I want to see every last one of you dead and damned.”

    Such was Citizen Z’s presence that she held the whole room frozen. Her masked face somehow projected icy rage and mercilessness. The shadows were deep wherever she stood.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“In all your ‘decade of genius’ did you ever invent a neural knife?” Citizen Z asked Overseer Chavez. “A weapon forged from psychically sensitive metal that could transmit the mental agonies of one person into another?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Er… no,” swallowed the overseer. Swallowing was a bad move. The blade-point pricked him and a trickle of blood rolled down to his collar.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You couldn’t. It’s mystical as well as scientific. Spiritual. It channels the concentrated madness of an ancient asylum into the unprepared mind of a mere brief human. At full power it doesn’t just burn out the neurons of the brain, leaving behind a drooling idiot, it brands all that insanity and torment permanently into the psyche, sealing the victim into his own living hell. So I’ll ask again, for the last time, what are you doing for the Baroness here in Smedjebacken, Sweden, in B.A.L.D. lab three?”

    The knife suddenly seemed red hot. Chavez hastened to answer. “We’re preparing a virus. It turns humans into, er, diseased rotting mind-slaves. And also a parasite that makes other people more… suggestible. And a new breed of servitor drones that can adapt to then copy the powers of any metahuman they encounter.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah, that’ll be awesome,” approved Technicial Lugg before he remembered where he was.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“The codes to get me into the sealed areas so I can destroy them?” demanded CZ.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“We don’t have the codes,” argued Chavez. “Only MODEM has the access passes to the deeper facility areas. We run things from up here. We can’t… aaaaaghhh!”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“That was the knife part of my neural knife,” Citizen Z explained. “But ears can be sewn back on. Want to try the neural part, for which there’s no possible fix?”

    Overseer Chavez explained the backdoor systems that would get the phantom avenger into the deeper levels of the manufacturing complex.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Are you, like, going to kill us all now?” worried Lugg.

    Citizen Z considered it. “I’m just going to hurt you all very much,” she decided. “You’re going to have a long sleep with some very bad dreams, and when you finally wake up you may want to consider new career choices.”

    And then she hurt them.

***


    The B.A.L.D. manufacturing facility had state-of-the-art perimeter defences and one of the world’s most sophisticated computer counterassault systems.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh please,” said Al B. Harper as he deactivated it. He planted a small text file as a rootkit that would offer useful critique for the programmers when they came to find out how their systems had crashed.

    Once he’d taken control of the first and second tier systems he was able to tap the monitor feeds and examine the complex. All the guards in the upper compound were unconcious. A quick scan suggested they’d had a neural shock that had temporarily neutralised their higher brain functions. Likewise the techhies in labs one to four were out. Defence systems on the lower manufacturing plant were offline.

    Al B. thumbed his Lair Legion communicard. “Looks like the satellite sensors were right,” he told Hallie. “Citizen Z’s here.”

    It hadn’t been easy to set up a worldwide detection grid for the unique biopsychic signature of the phantom avenger. The archscientist felt justifiably pleased. He reprogrammed the B.A.L.D. bioweapons console to make him a cup of coffee.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m going inside,” Al B. warned Hallie. “The base is constructed of transmission-blocking materials so I’ll be out of touch. CZ’s headed down deep to the automated manufacturing levels, presumably to put a stop to whatever B.A.L.D. was constructing here.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“An order for Beth von Zemo according to the datalogs you just squirted over to me,” Hallie judged. “I’m shunting the data over to your kids for them to look at but I don’t think there’s anything here that’ll stand up in court against the Baroness.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Is there ever?” sighed Al B. “Who else could take over the planet then sue us for stopping her?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“The Baroness is a mission for another day,” Hallie advised. “Today you’re making contact with Citizen Z.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yep. And I’m going in.”

***


    Citizen Z dropped down through a service hatch and landed on a grill gantry in the automated assembly plant. Lurid red light flooded the vast space, filling the dusty gloom with unexpected shadows.

    Shadows no longer frightened Citizen Z.

    There were remote weapons platforms here, not tied in with the main defence grid. CZ somersaulted over the balcony to land of the first of them as it hovered closer to analyse her. She cored its main processor out with her blade, sent it spinning down to explode into the second platform behind it, then extended her combat stave to hook onto the third drone and avoid a plummet into the bio-vats below.

    Citizen Z judged her performance as she took down the defences. She no longer remembered how she’d developed her physical combat skills but the moves came to her easily. The body she occupied was naturally limber and becoming moreso. Her neural discharge discs worked as effectively on programmed technology as on living beings. Her energy levels were good, lodged as she was in her possessed mortal host; she could escape Herringcarp Asylum for extended amounts of time as long as she was paired with the comatose Bethany Shellett.

    As she dropped down to the assembly level she judged that so far her performance was satisfactory.

    There were remote-controlled BRAWLER suits ahead and a refitted Technopolitian combat tripod but by now she was ready for them.

    When the last of the B.A.L.D. defences were destroyed Citizen Z passed towards the main control area where she could end the Baroness’ lethal equipment order. She found a black man in a white lab coat finishing his latte macchiato.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hello,” said Al B. Harper. “And thank you.”

    Citizen Z hefted her battle stave. Wisps of ectoplasm drifted from its metal tips. “Thank me for what?” she demanded.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well, it’s taken me some time to work out when you were Citizen Z and when it was Beth von Zemo and Silicone Sally and when it was someone else entirely,” Al B. Harper admitted. “But once I determined that you had a parapsychic component I was able to figure it. You’re the CZ who turned up at the end of the Baroness’ world coup and saved Magweed, Griffin, and Sam from HAGGIE. You’re the one that was around when we were off in the Stitchworlds.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“And you claim to be the real Al B. Harper.” Citizen Z was sceptical.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Want me to prove Fermat’s last theorem for you? Listen, I know you’ve got some major mad-on at Beth von Zemo – Lee pulled the records before he… The Librarian discovered that the original, male, Citizen Z was murdered by Baron Heinrich Zemo in world war II. You’ve clearly got this whole revenge thing going on with the house of Zemo, but there’s more to life than revenge. Want a coffee?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I do not drink… coffee,” answered Citizen Z.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re one complex tangled parapsychic event, that’s for sure,” the archscientist admitted. “I haven’t seen reading this dense since I did a scan on the Lair Banshee.”

    The battle-stave oriented on Al B. “You’re a better last defence than I expected,” Citizen Z told him. “More imaginative than B.A.L.D. usually is. But you won’t stop me from destroying those monstrosities.”

    Al B. put down his mug. “Yeah, about that. I’ve been going through these computer files for Big Beth’s order and there’s something that doesn’t make sense…”

    Citizen Z lunged at him. The archscientist yelped and fell backwards off his chair.

    Citizen Z plunged her stave into the main hard drive of the manufacturing facility and unleashed madness into it.

    Things began to explode.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” said Al B. Harper.

    Giant monitor screens lit up all around the room, each projecting the face of Baroness von Zemo.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well now,” said the Baroness, “if you’re hearing this, ‘Citizen Z’, it’ll be because you were stupid enough to walk into my trap. You’ll be learning that the bioweapons order wasn’t my real contract with B.A.L.D. What I actually commissioned was a means of containing and destroying you.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“And that’s why I wish you hadn’t done that,” Al B. noted. “Like I said, there was something about the files…”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I have no idea who you are or what you want,” Beth von Zemo went on. “If I was interested enough to find out I’d be interested enough to kill you personally rather than contract it tp others. But I’m a busy woman, so I’ve outsourced your death to B.A.L.D. They’ve turned that whole manufactury into a death trap – psi-suppressors, arcane mines, subatomic causal strings, logic verification lances, ectoplasmic confinement mesh – everything one needs to dissect a ghost or whatever you are.”

    Al B. stared at his scanner. “Ooh, yeah. Now that’s more like it. Very smart.”

    On-screen Beth sniffed. “Anyway, I have a rather nice dinner awaiting me. Do have a long and excruciating destruction. Goodbye.”

    Around the complex various remote devices hummed to life.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“A trap,” hissed Citizen Z, “and I walked into it! I know her! I know how tricky she is! And I still walked into it.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Happens to the best of us,” Dr Harper comforted her. “Er, do you think we could maybe escape from here now? Only anything calibrated to rip you to spiritual shreds will work just fine on me as well.”

    The first wave of psi-shielded killbots came in. Citizen Z took them down with combat skills alone. “If you really are the Legionnaire Al B. Harper then you’d better think of an escape,” CZ demanded.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I need more information,” the archscientist demanded. “Who are you? What are you? What’s your feud with the Baroness? What powers do you have that she’s prepared counters for?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m…” Citizen Z fended off the next wave of killbots. They’d learned from previous set. These were smarter and faster. “I’m a mystery.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I need to know. Without data I have nothing to work on.”

    CZ caught her breath after the second assault. “I’m undead,” she admitted. “I was murdered by Beth and now I’m back. I can channel some pain and madness I experienced through the psychic metal of my equipment. I can possess willing subjects or weak-minded people for a time and operate in their bodies. I’m in a borrowed form right now. When I’m a ghost I can only be solid for a few minutes before I have to evaporate away and… be recharged.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You have a Citizen Z suit.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Beth von Zemo had a number of them made, for when Silicone Sally couldn’t assume the form. She had a whole arsenal designed to fit into it. I took one and modified it, personalised it. I’ve suffused her kit with my neural traumas so now it’s half-scientific, half-mystic.”

    She had to break off then. The third wave of killbots dropped upon her with matter-rippers and ectoplasmic lashes, attacking on the physical and psychic planes at the same time.

    Citizen Z fought well, but it was evident to Al B. Harper that she wasn’t going to win this one.

    He had to think fast. Fortunately he was Al B. Harper. “Okay, CZ, this trap was designed to destroy you, but I think I know how to beat it. You’re going to have to trust me.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Then you’ll have to start or you’ll really be dead.”

    The killbots closed in on Citizen Z, co-ordinating for their final assault.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What do I have to do?” CZ demanded.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You said you were possessing that body. Jump into mine.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Come to me. Those drones are set to eliminate you, but I’m betting Beth or B.A.L.D. or both will want your remains for autopsy. When they sense you’re no longer in that flesh they might stop their attack.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“And attack you instead.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Only if you’re in charge in here. And believe me, that’s not going to happen. Now jump!”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“If I leave this flesh it will be helpless. She’s my friend.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“They’re not locked onto her flesh, they’re locked on to your sentience. Come on!”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t trust anybody.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’ll need to learn to trust your fellow Legionnaires when you’ve joined us. Now’s the time to start.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m not joining the…”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Jump!”

    Citizen Z made her decision. She slipped out of Bethany Shellett’s comatose form, allowing the body to crumple onto the grating, and hurled herself into Al B. Harper’s mind.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Wow, it’s big in here!”

***


    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Simple,” said Al B. “Once the system sensed you were gone it went on to the next phase, the clean up and diagnostics. There are soul-catchers installed here like the ones on the Parody Master’s prison planet. They’re supposed to retain your ghostly essence and then the Baroness can interrogate your physical host or your captured spirit at her leisure.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nice,” spat Citizen Z as she reinhabited her best friend’s body.

    Al B. had reset the whole system now the attack was over. He’d even triggered the self-destruction countdown to provide Smedjebacken with a new crater for snowboarding. “I’m not sure of the ethics of you using someone’s vacant body for a vehicle,” he told CZ.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Then it’s a good job it’s none of your damn business.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“But it will be, after you’ve joined the Legion. And if you think I’m bothered about it wait till you meet Visionary or Mumphrey. Or the Shoggoth.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m not joining your Legion,” Citizen Z insisted. “It… wouldn’t be a good idea.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s been foreseen, if you believe in Caphan prophetesses. Or CrazySugarFreakBoy! press conferences. Besides, hasn’t today illustrated how it’s better to have someone at your back? And don’t you want to use whatever… afterlife you have for more than just revenge? Aren’t you just a little bit juiced at the idea of being with the world’s foremost superteam?”

    Citizen Z turned her back on Al. “I don’t want to hurt the Legion. I don’t want to let them down, or betray them, or destroy them.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Same here,” the archscientist agreed. “I still joined.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“There’s information you don’t have.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Are you secretly Baroness von Zemo infiltrating us to take over the planet?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Then we’ll work the rest out later. Give us a chance.”

    CZ wavered. “You’re not the ones who need the chance,” she confessed.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Then take a chance,” Al B. advised her. “You have to trust someone, sometime. Trust us.”

    Citizen Z, timelost Amnesia of Herringcarp Asylum, memory-wiped superhero sidekick Laurie Leyton, hesitated. She could summon her z-wing flyer and disappear. She could continue her remorseless vendetta against her murderer. She could return to the accusing darkness of Herringcarp Asylum.

    She could be a Legionnaire.

***


Next: The final new recruit may also be the shortest-lived: Hunting Season

Images by Visionary

***


Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2010 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2010 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.