The Strike Trilogy (59 page)

“Yes, normally I wouldn’t be too happy about all this, but we are asking them for a lot tomorrow.”

“Maybe it’s better if nobody’s thinking about it.”

The old man and the boy walked away from the dance floor.

“I know it’s a big deal, Tobin—the biggest mission we’ve ever had—but everything is gonna be fine tomorrow. I promise.”

“Really? You really think we have enough?”

“We’ve done all we can do. I know that much. We’ve worked hard and given it our all and prepared. Now we just have to act and protect Earth while we still can. It’s time to defend your world.”

Tobin nodded. “You know, I was thinking—all these people we’ve met? We really could not have done any of this without them.”

“I know, it’s true. We should always remember that. Without the help of our friends, we’d be absolutely lost. Especially Agent Everybody. With all he’s done over the last three months, it’s unthinkable to imagine where we’d be without his help.”

Tobin looked around the party. “Hey…where is Agent Everybody?”

In the spacious, magnificently decorated lobby on the ground floor of the Trident skyscraper, a beautiful, raven-haired, dark-skinned, twenty-four-year-old Rytonian woman sat on the comfy cushions of a large sofa, watching the building’s main elevator.

Finally, the young woman saw the person she was waiting for—a Harrison mailman walked out of the elevator, strolled across the lobby, and dropped a package off with the greeter at the building’s front desk. As the mailman walked outside and onto the sidewalk, the raven-haired girl followed him, exiting through the Trident’s automatic sliding doors.

“Excuse me, sir?” the woman said, walking along the street. “I think I saw you drop something back there.”

The mailman turned around, patting his pockets and mail satchel. “Really? I don’t think I’m missing anything.”

“It looked real important.”

The mailman checked the envelopes in his hand. “I have everything right here.”

The raven-haired woman smiled. “Are you sure? I picked it up and brought it back to my car.”

The mailman looked to her. “Really?”

The woman tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Come on, I can show you.”

The mailman smiled. He checked his watch. “Well, hell, sure.”

Three blocks from the Trident in a quiet section of Harrison, the mailman followed the beautiful woman down an alleyway. A black car was parked in between the two buildings.

“The package is back here?” the mailman asked.

“Sure is.”

The mailman grinned. “What are you up to, Toots?”

The woman turned around and smirked. “Oh, nothing.”

After reaching into her pocket, the woman held out her coiled fist toward the mailman. When the woman opened her hand, a burst of white smoke puffed out and into the mailman’s face. As his eyelids fluttered, his legs turned to jelly and he dropped to the ground, asleep. Holding the mailman by his limp arms, the woman dragged him behind the car.

Then, when the mailman was out of sight from the street, the woman’s face folded into itself, morphing into Agent Everybody. But, his true form only lasted a moment—in less than two seconds, Agent Everybody changed his appearance again, this time morphing into an exact duplicate of the mailman.

“Us men are so easy,” Agent Everybody said, lightly slapping the unconscious mailman’s face. “Did you really think she was in your league? Just be happy I didn’t shrink you down and put you into a pill.”

As he pulled his blue hat down onto his face and straightened his mailman uniform, Agent Everybody walked down the sidewalk and back into the Trident.

“Hi, ma’am,” Agent Everybody said to the woman at the skyscraper’s front desk. “Could you make sure this makes its way to the tippity-top? Almost forgot it on my way out.”

He handed the secretary an envelope.

“Sure thing,” she replied with a smile.

Five minutes later, on the top floor of the Trident, the secretary knocked on the door to Rigel’s office and stepped inside.

“Rigel, sir? This was just delivered for you.”

Rigel was standing at his desk, looking over blueprints with Nova. “It was? From who?”

“The mailman,” the secretary replied, handing the letter to Rigel.

The red giant opened the envelope, confused. Inside, there was a simple sheet of white paper, containing a message written in red ink. Rigel recognized the handwriting instantly:

I’m ready to talk if you are.

Either way, I suggest you evacuate the city.

We’re coming for you.

Tomorrow. Boston Common. 7 PM.

Sincerely,

O.

Rigel stared at the letter. Furious, he crumpled it up into a ball and tossed it across the room.

Only two hours later, Rigel and Nova were standing on the balcony outside of Rigel’s office. From there, they could see the center of Boston Common, where a squadron of Rytonian policeman and soldiers were leading thousands of people through a swirling, thirty-foot-tall, green, electrified portal, which was surrounded by barricades. The mass of evacuating people—most of whom were carrying suitcases—stretched all the way into the north end of the city.

At the same time, a message was blaring from the loudspeakers set up all around Harrison. From the speakers, a cheerful, female voice was repeating the same four sentences over and over, ensuring it was heard by all of the city’s citizens.

“We hope you enjoy your trip back to old Rytonia! Again, the Daybreaker would like to remind everyone that this is only a temporary visit. In only a few days, we’ll have made the necessary repairs to the city’s air purification system, and we’ll all come right back to our new home! Can’t wait to see you again!”

On the balcony, Rigel’s eyes were cast down on Boston Common. “Make sure they are all ready,” the red giant said to Nova. “The council. The Eradicators. Make sure everyone knows what’s happening. Make sure they are ready for tomorrow.”

“I will,” Nova replied. “But how are we hiding this evacuation from the Daybreaker?”

Rigel turned and walked back into his office. “He’s not in a state to be aware of anything right now.”

106 floors below Rigel and Nova, in the cold science lab in the Research and Development wing of the Trident, the Daybreaker screamed, with his head tossed back toward the ceiling. As his latest energy extraction continued, he clenched his hands around the metal straps across his wrists, and felt the blue electricity bursting from his burning biceps.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

T
he morning after the Ruffalo Rock street festival, Tobin sat on the edge of the bed in one of King Ontombe’s guest rooms, with his arms resting on his knees. Across from him, his Strike costume was draped across a chair.

“Good morning, Tobin,” Orion said from the doorway. “Are you ready for this?”

“Absolutely,” Tobin replied. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a beautiful day for an insane plan with about a million things that could go wrong.”

Orion chuckled. “We’re all going to meet in the portal room in a couple hours after breakfast to go over everything. Is there anything else you want to do before we start? Anything else that might help us?”

Tobin thought it over. “Is there a communicator here that can reach the museum?”

Thousands of miles away, in the last prison cell on the left in the Museum of the Heroes holding area, Jonathan Ashmore lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His stomach was growling.

Suddenly, the video communicator on the wall across from Jonathan’s cell blinked and turned on. On the screen, Jonathan could see Tobin’s face.

“About time!” Jonathan said, quickly sitting up in bed and looking to the communicator. “Where the hell has everybody been this morning? I’m starving to death here. This is inhumane treatment, you know. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Tobin stared at the pale man from the screen. “You serious about how much you regret what you did?”

The pale man rolled his eyes. “We really gonna have this conversation again?”

“I can open the door to your cell right now,” Tobin replied. “How’d you like to earn your freedom?”

Later that evening, with only a few minutes to go before their journey to Earth, all the superheroes gathered by Tobin, the Rytonian Rebels, and all the members of King Ontombe’s animal warriors were standing in front of the gigantic, swirling red portal in the Ruffalo Rock Castle airplane hangar. The group was over fifty people strong.

Leading the group, standing in the front with the other heroes behind them, were Tobin, Orion, Keplar, and Wakefield. Looking to his right, Keplar noticed Jonathan Ashmore, who was transformed into his were-bat form, with his large, leathery wings extending from the back of his purple suit.

“Hi,” Jonathan said.

“You gotta be blurkoppin’ kidding me,” the dog groaned, rolling his eyes.

Orion looked up at the towering portal. “So. We step through here, and if our calculations are correct, we’ll be standing right at the eastern end of Boston Common.”

“And if our calculations aren’t correct?” Tobin asked.

“We’ll end up right back here with some more time to kill while we think of something else.”

Tobin nodded. “The more and more I hear of this plan, the more and more I like it.”

Orion walked to the left side of the group and kneeled down by Scatterbolt, who was standing near one of Wakefield’s workbenches with Jennifer, Chad, and Keplar Junior.

“Now remember what I told you, Scatterbolt. You are, under no circumstances, to leave here and come to Earth. You are to stay with Chad and Jennifer at all times, until this is over.”

Scatterbolt narrowed his eyes, angry. “But Orion, this is really important! I could help you guys on the other side! You know I can, I’ve done it before!”

“I know you have, Scatterbolt, believe me. I’ve seen what you can do in situations like this. But right now, you have the most important job of all: you have to stay here and protect Chad and Jennifer. They are completely defenseless without you if anything happens while we’re gone.” The old man turned to Chad and Jennifer. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Jennifer replied.

Chad nodded. “Couldn’t agree with you more.”

Orion turned back to Scatterbolt, pointing up at a glass-encased control booth on the second floor of the airplane hangar. “There’s a monitor up there in the booth where you can watch what is happening on Earth. But you will not—no matter what—let Chad or Jennifer see the monitor. Okay?”

Scatterbolt frowned. “But, Orion, I really wanna go with you guys. I want to help. I feel awful just sitting here while you guys are out there facing Rigel and the end of the world.”

Orion nodded. “I need you to do this for me, okay, Scatterbolt? I know it might not seem like it, but it’s the most important job of all. We’ve already put Jennifer and Chad in enough danger as it is, and I don’t want any more kids getting hurt because of me.”

Scatterbolt thought it over. He curled his lip and looked away from Orion. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Good luck.”

Orion laughed and patted the robot on top of his head. “Thank you, Scatterbolt. We’ll see you when we get back.”

The old man returned to the others. He faced the gathering of superheroes, rebels, and animal warriors grouped in the middle of the hangar.

“Remember the plan, everyone,” Orion said. “When we walk through this portal, we will instantly be standing in Boston Common on Earth. For almost every single one of you, this will be your first trip to the other world, and it will be disorienting. Even with this extra-powerful portal, you will likely feel nauseous, light-headed, and weakened. You may even lose consciousness. But once you fight through the shock to your body, you will be ready to go, and ready to proceed.

“Well before we reach the Trident skyscraper, I expect Rigel to be waiting for us. Nobody is to take a shot at him or make any kind of offensive move. I cannot stress this enough. We are going to Earth to talk, first and foremost. I want to settle this before a single shot is fired or a fight is engaged. When, and only when, an act of aggression is made against us, will we respond accordingly.

“In that instance, what we spoke about this morning will take effect: half of the Rytonian Rebels will disperse into the nearby buildings to set up medical stations to tend to fallen heroes, while the other half of the Rytonian Rebels will stay in Boston Common and focus on the robotic Eradicator soldiers that are likely to be gathered with Rigel. King Ontombe and the animal warriors will take care of the squadron of Hooded Gores that are also likely to be there, while anyone with super-powers will engage the super-powered villains Rigel has amassed as part of the New Capricious Council. While this is occurring, some of you superheroes will stay with the Rytonian Rebels in the medical stations around Boston Common, waiting for me to call you when needed.”

Orion stepped back into the front of the group with Tobin. They faced the portal.

“So,” the old man said. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” the boy replied.

Keplar was standing on the other side of Tobin. “You want some big grand speech to get you pumped up, Tobes?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t get killed.”

“Thanks, Keplar, that was great.”

Orion turned around and faced the superheroes, rebels, and animal warriors gathered in the airplane hangar.

“Are we ready?”

The crowd responded by cheering in unison, holding up their weapons.

“For Earth,” Orion said. He raised his bow in the air. “For Capricious!”

The gathering of heroes roared even louder. Led by Orion, Tobin, and Keplar, the group stepped forward into the portal.

On the other side of the red, swirling portal, Orion, Tobin, and Keplar emerged into the city that was once known as Boston but was now known as Harrison. As the rest of their allies slowly appeared behind them through the towering, electrified gateway that was now floating in the air, Tobin looked around. They weren’t in the green park of Boston Common as they had planned—they were instead standing in the middle of a dark, empty street, surrounded by old, brick buildings.

“Um, this isn’t Boston Common,” Tobin said, as the Rytonian Rebels and animal warriors stood behind him, discombobulated and woozy.

“It appears our calculations were wrong,” Orion replied.

Keplar looked at the brick buildings. “Who did the math on this thing, Tobin?”

“But look,” Orion said. “We’re not far away.”

The old man pointed ahead. The green, lush park of Boston Common was only a few hundred feet down the street.

“Let’s go,” Orion said, as the group began marching toward the Common. “Tobin, let them know we are coming.”

Standing in the very front of the group, Tobin raised his arms into the air. As he waved his hands in a half-circle over his head, electricity shot out from his palms, spreading up toward the night sky in bright, flashing streams of energy. Thunder boomed in the clouds above them as they walked, with Tobin’s lightning bouncing off of the walls and buildings on either side of the street, lighting up the city in quick, blue-and-white flashes.

Only a few hundred feet away, in the center of Boston Common, the villains of the New Capricious Council awaited. Along with Greylock, Songbird, Ember, Zaius Moldron, and over a dozen other super-villains, there was also an army of twenty black-armored, robotic Eradicators, with their faces hidden behind gas masks and the tops of their hands equipped with laser blasters. To the right of the Eradicators, there was a nest of hissing, five-foot-tall Hooded Gores, with their two-clawed, vulture-like hands dangling out from the sleeves of their brown cloaks. As always, the demon’s faces were hidden in the darkness of their hoods—the only features visible were their glowing red eyes and their blunt, lizard-like snouts.

Soon, the blue-and-white lightning snapping up to the night sky grew nearer, and the group of heroes from Ruffalo Rock emerged from the streets at the eastern end of Boston Common. As the superheroes, rebels, and animals marched toward the New Capricious Council in the middle of the city park, Tobin was surprised—based on sheer power-level alone, the heroes clearly had the upper hand. The Gores and Eradicators were sure to be a painful nuisance, but when it came to the matchups of heroes versus villains, the villains didn’t seem to stand a chance.

“So, Greylock,” Keplar said, when the heroes stopped marching and reached the gathering of villains. “I see you were chosen to stand in the front as cannon fodder. Congratulations.”

Tobin looked up at Keplar. “We’re standing in the front, too.”

“I realized it as soon as I said it,” Keplar replied.

Greylock—with his blinking red eye and half of his bearded face encased in metal—laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite, mutt. We’re your welcome party. We just figured we’d put the best right up front, to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

Orion eyeballed the opposing army. Two very important members were missing.

“Where’s Rigel?” Orion asked. “Where’s Nova? Where are they?”

“Oh, they’ll be joining us soon, don’t you worry,” Greylock replied. “But I’m sure we can wrap this up well before they’re needed.”

“Where is he?” Tobin asked. “Is he here?”

“Who?” Greylock asked.

Tobin narrowed his eyes. “You know who I mean.”

Greylock chuckled. “Oh, you mean your nice little evil twin from the other timeline? He’s watching us, from up there.” The cybernetic man turned and pointed up to the top floor of the skyscraper. “He told me to give you a message.”