II Crimsonstreak Read online

  Warren and I ended up there a few years ago, thanks to a Comet Accelerator located in the heart of the New World Common Wealth Headquarters in Chaopolis. That building is gone now, which means Lucas Oil Stadium has reclaimed its status as the dominant architectural work in Indianapolis. Football, thank God, is back.

  The Legion fully intended to scrub the research lab, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle after a group of ex-Enforcers set itself up on the island and pledged to protect the “masterworks” of Colonel Chaos. I was hoping that meant they’d turn it into a museum, a warning about the dangers of… something or another… but they made camp there instead. They’re like birds that have claimed a nest and are determined to swoop down at anyone who dares approach. Falcon Gray could relate.

  They eventually morphed into the Champions of Justice. They’re a fringe group and an annoyance, but they may be the only hope we have of finding allies. Our numbers are already down thanks to the last invasion and the High Imperator’s war on superheroes. The damn Kiltechs couldn’t have picked a better time to return. In some ways, the world is more chaotic now than it ever was during the New World Common Wealth Era.

  The last time the Kiltechs came to Earth, Colonel Chaos used the invasion as an excuse to cement his base of power for the NWCW. The irony: right now, we need a little unity, but we’re not going to get it because of a general—and probably very rational—sense of mistrust on the part of the people. They’ve scrutinized every move the Legion has made, only allowing the heroes to stay in charge for as long as it takes to get a new government in place.

  The invaders are, pardon the pun, alien to me. I missed their grand entrance while in captivity at the Clermont Institution for the Criminally Insane. The rest of the Legion, on the other hand, is terrified. They speak of the Kiltechs in the same vein as Sauron or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They are a dark, creeping menace never too far removed from the minds of those forced to fight against them.

  In the Legion’s archive of all things Kiltech-related, I’ve seen a few videos and read accounts of the invaders and their tactics, which are tiresome invasion tropes from the pulpiest of science fiction pulps. I mean, if the writers of the Fifties and Sixties got anything right, it was how an alien invasion would really be carried out. We’ve got massive ships parked above major cities and fearsome alien beings who promise pain and suffering unless their demands are met.

  It’s like the Kiltechs sat down and watched every single science fiction movie ever made and then decided to base their society around them. The remote possibility remains that they’re like the aliens from The Day the Earth Stood Still—a group of advanced beings here to warn us about our dangerous ways and set humanity on the right path before it’s too late. However, since this is an encore performance from the Kiltechs, I sincerely doubt that’s the case.

  The island comes into view as I splash across the water.

  I get the sense someone’s watching me. I skid to a stop in the sand, but there’s no one around. The feeling returns after another quick burst of Crimsonspeed. The island isn’t very big, and I proceed toward the center of the landmass to my father’s research lab without encountering anyone from the Champions of Justice, which leaves me with three possibilities: they’re gone, they’ve given up, or I’m heading into a trap.

  One guess at which one it probably is.

  I’ll just draw them out. What the hell. “Champions of Justice, this is Crimsonstreak. I come with an urgent message.”

  There are no crickets on this island, but I wish there were. The silence is deafening.

  My hand goes up to my earpiece. “Comet, are you getting any readings?”

  “An energy signature. It’s faint,” Warren Senior says. “It’s coming from the cloning chamber.”

  Of course it’s coming from the cloning chamber. I couldn’t stop by Dad’s secret research facility without hitting all the highlights, like the room where cloning vats of my mother were stacked like pots on Deadliest Catch.

  “What kind of energy signature? Something conventional, like a generator? Or something more… Kiltech-y?”

  “It’s definitely not conventional,” he replies.

  Still no sign of the Champions. I walk into the cloning area, but the tanks are all empty. A few are broken, the floor around them pitted and corroded. Walking past the rows of tanks that used to hold unused clones of my mother, I remember how my father—my real father—was trapped inside a containment field here.

  “Comet, any word from the rest of the team?”

  “They should reach you shortly,” he says.

  Better get outside to greet them. Maybe the Champions will finally attack me after that.

  I feel a faint breeze from above and hear a weak whoosh. “It’s about time you guys showed up,” I say, my gaze turning toward the sky.

  Dark figures bob up and down before landing in a circle around me. They’re dressed in dark gray Enforcer armor, though some only wear the armored torso plate while others are rocking the “sleeveless” armor look. It’s the Road Warrior meets the Lost Boys.

  “The Son of Chaos returns to his father’s island,” a woman says. She seems both pissed off and reverent. “Why are you here?”

  “Sapphire Twelve. I heard you’d joined up with the Champions,” I say. Instead of Enforcer armor, this hero wears a flowing, deep blue robe trimmed with gemstones. A silver tiara ringed with dark blue gems rests gracefully atop her head. Her hair is midnight blue.

  “I’m here because the Heroic Legion failed to contain the Kiltech threat,” the woman reveals. “I stood watch for what seemed like an eternity, yet I did not feel them return. I wonder now if they ever truly left. The Legion allowed themselves to be tainted by their own high ideals. They never saw what was happening within.”

  “You knew?”

  Sapphire Twelve nods. “We all knew, except for the Legion. They were too proud to understand how much they’d been compromised. Too proud to see how deep it really went.”

  “You could’ve warned them,” I tell her.

  “Perhaps so,” she says. “Why are you looking for the Champions of Justice? You have never sought membership within our ranks before. I recall you calling us ‘the Pepsi of heroes’ groups.’”

  “It was supposed to be an endearing newspaper quip,” I tell her as her associates tighten the circle around me. “It was all in good fun.”

  “Your father was a great man,” she says. She looks up, as if she’s said something wrong. “Your father is a great man.”

  “Which one would you be referring to?” I ask. “The crazy Colonel Chaos who actually took over the world, or the confused, lost Colonel Chaos who tried?”

  “There are many facets to Chaos. It is a pity that you do not share his vision,” she intones, motioning toward me.

  A couple of Sapphire Twelve’s henchmen close in a little tighter. “Relax, fellas. I know when I’m overmatched.”

  “Your father understood the threat the Kiltechs presented. He fought them head-on. He prevented them from taking over and made our world stronger. What did the Heroic Legion do? They condemned him. I could not stand for that. I now stand with them,” she says, pointing at the COJ members around her.

  “Listen, the Legion doesn’t want to go through all this again. Trust me. They’ve got a lab dedicated to unraveling alien weaponry and developing countermeasures. I’ve seen it.”

  “Then why are we defenseless? Why didn’t they institute stricter surveillance on the galactic rim?” Sapphire Twelve asks. “They had to anticipate a return, a second invasion. Yet, as Kiltech ships hover over Earth—many more than the news reports are admitting—it appears we are already beaten.”

  “So you guys are just hanging around here and waiting for the end of the world? That sounds about right. You tend to do the opposite of what the Legion does.”

  “Plans are already in motion to strike against the Kiltech threat. The Champions of Justice do not sit idle.”

  “Listen
, this is a great island and all—I’m still waiting for the Skipper to show up with the Professor and some coconut phones—but if you plan to fight, why are you here?”

  “Your father is a man of great vision,” she says. “A man of many secrets. What he has stored can save us all, if we can ever access it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your father left us a gift. The Champions of Justice are inclined to guard it.”

  “You have no idea what it is, do you?” I ask smugly.

  “We have searched this island thoroughly, yet we have not found it. It makes no difference. Now that I am cut off from the Sapphire Empire, I place my trust in Colonel Chaos.”

  No one’s ever figured out what the hell the Sapphire Empire is. That kind of nonsense is what happens when a superhero starts to believe she’s the deposed ruler of a distant star. Maybe she actually is, but she’s always been a little light on the details, and there’s a long history of heroes going a little… funny… so we tend to take grandiose claims with a grain of salt.

  “Sure, whatever. Listen, I’m here because I need your help. The Legion’s compromised. So are the Clermont escapees. I’ve got an extremely small team. We could use the Champions.”

  “Allies? You want to work with us? You want to be part of the ‘Pepsi of heroes’ groups’? Is this a trick, Son of Chaos?”

  “Whatever happened during the New World Common Wealth Era doesn’t matter. Once, my father united all the world’s heroes against a threat intent on enslaving us all. I would ask that you consider honoring that agreement.”

  Or… something. Hearing myself, I figure I’ve been around Samson Knight too long.

  Sapphire Twelve stands perfectly still, her robes billowing in a nonexistent breeze. “Our scouts say some of your allies are coming our way. You are certain you don’t wish to fight us?”

  “We’re on a diplomatic mission.”

  I half-expect her to ask, “If this is a consular ship, where is the ambassador?” Good thing she doesn’t have me by the throat. She presses a button on a bracelet.

  “The Son of Chaos advises me that the visitors wish to negotiate. Repeat, let them pass. They are here to coordinate resistance efforts against the Kiltechs. Repeat. The visitors are not enemy marks.”

  “Thank you, Sapphire Twelve,” I say.

  “Heroic Legion or not, our goals are the same. It appears—”

  A flash in the distance, just beyond the tree line. A green bolt emerges, but I drive a shoulder into Sapphire Twelve, knocking her to the ground.

  “Betayal runs deep in your family,” she says. “I should have known—”

  She stops in mid-sentence as soldiers in matte black armor materialize around us, holding nasty-looking rifles.

  Green bolts hit several of the surrounding Champions.

  A flurry of rays pours through the area, hitting more targets. A larger form—I’m betting about eight feet tall—also appears. It’s the same green guy who disrupted my father’s tribunal.

  “Do not hit the Crimsonstreak,” he bellows, the half-mask on the lower half of his face amplifying his words.

  “I think General Ugly makes a good point here. Don’t hit the Crimsonstreak. You got a name, buddy?”

  His footsteps are so heavy that the ground shakes. His black armor swallows the sunlight. “Kilgore,” he says. In two steps, the towering alien stands right next to me. “You have surrounded yourself with lesser beings.”

  Kiltechs, Kilgore.

  Got it.

  Wonder if there’s a Kilroy around here.

  Yeah, I’ve got time for a Styx joke.

  Kilgore grabs Sapphire Twelve by the neck and holds her up, examining her like a lab specimen. “Some of you are so frail. Others so graceful. This one appears to be both. So frail, one squeeze could destroy her.”

  “I am the twelfth Sapphire of the Sapphire Empire,” the woman says, her voice barely a whisper. “You… will… put… me… down…”

  Kilgore’s laugh is hollow and eerie. “The Sapphire Empire? The Kiltechs crushed them underfoot long ago.”

  Holy crap. Maybe Sapphire Twelve isn’t completely crazy. Completely.

  “Why don’t you loosen up there, big guy?” I say as Sapphire Twelve strains to stay conscious. “Let her go.”

  He drops her to the ground. She coughs but recovers quickly enough to summon a wave of blue energy that Kilgore deflects, sending her hurtling back several feet.

  “Lesser beings,” Kilgore says again, reaching toward me.

  With a burst of speed, I vault up his arm and over his head, hitting the ground and breaking off in a circle. I knock down a few Kiltech soldiers along the way.

  A war screech pierces the air.

  Help. Finally.

  Jaci, my mother, Falcon Gray, and Warren land near Sapphire Twelve. More green bolts fly through the air, straight for us.

  “Do not hit the Crimsonstreak!” Kilgore repeats.

  I don’t know what the green beams are—and I don’t want to know. They’ve already dropped a few members of the Champions of Justice.

  My fist smashes into a Kiltechs’ helmet. The blow may have cracked a knuckle. With a dash of Crimsonspeed, my shoulder goes into him. The maneuver gives us a nice little Domino Rally that downs a quartet of soldiers. When I turn, Falcon Gray’s trying to keep Kilgore away from Sapphire Twelve and several of the Champions of Justice. The supers who were flying earlier now appear earthbound.

  I surge toward another group of Kiltechs, but they disappear. A moment later, they reappear. Cloaking devices? Short-range teleportation?

  Miss Lightspeed joins Falcon Gray in the fight against Kilgore. Green bolts whiz right past them, but miss their mark. Good to know the Kiltechs bought their marksmen from the Stormtrooper Emporium. I hear they make their money on ammo. Falcon Gray connects with an arm-wing punch that rattles Kilgore’s jaw, partially dislodging his mask.

  The bird can fight.

  Kilgore stumbles backward and clutches his jaw, giving me a chance to move closer to my team. “Sapphire Twelve, tell your people to get out of here!”

  “How?” she yells back.

  “Tell them to fly off!”

  “They can’t!” she shouts, her tone more urgent this time.

  I turn toward her. “What do you mean they can’t?”

  “They’ve lost their powers!”

  The realization comes quickly: the Kiltechs can either neutralize or strip us of our powers.

  Game-changer.

  “Jaci, Miss Lightspeed, Falcon Gray, get the Champions off the island. They can’t do any good back here.”

  “I’m afraid I am otherwise occupied, Road Runner,” Falcon Gray says, elbowing Kilgore in what I suppose is the sternum area. The Kiltechs’ Big Bad responds with a two-fisted hammer throw that sends feathers flying.

  A Kiltech rifle lies just a few feet away. Less than a second later, I’m handing it to Sapphire Twelve. “Don’t hit Falcon Gray. Aim for the jaw.”

  She gives a curt nod, leveling the rifle not at Kilgore, but at a Kiltech soldier who managed to sneak up on me. The shot drops him, and she takes aim at Kilgore, hitting him in the right knee.

  I suppose Kiltechs have knees, anyway.

  With a vicious yell, Kilgore pulls a tree out of the ground and swings it at Falcon Gray, who gets just enough lift to avoid it. Sapphire Twelve fires several more shots, and my mother nails Kilgore with a flying tackle.

  The handful of remaining Kiltech soldiers refuses to fire even though we’re right in range. We’ve whittled down their forces significantly, and Kilgore looks like he’s trying to figure out today’s newspaper cryptoquote.

  Another blast dislodges the other side of his mask, forcing Kilgore to hold it in place. “Lesser beings,” he says weakly before dematerializing.

  Warren, Jaci, and Miss Lightspeed make quick work of the remaining Kiltech soldiers.

  Sapphire Twelve stands over one of the downed warriors. “Is it dead?” she
asks, poking it with her foot. The soldier grabs her calf. It startles her momentarily, but she recovers with a swift kick.

  “Maybe I can get him to talk,” I tell her. I knock on the soldier’s helmet. “Hey, hello. Earth to Kiltech.”

  Synthesized, wheezing breaths escape from the alien’s mouthpiece. The breathing apparatus is small but noticeable, giving the Kiltech mask a look somewhere between Death Star Gunner, the Helghast, and Skeletor’s crack-shots from the Masters of the Universe movie.

  Dolph Lundgren and Frank Langella together. And the world, improbably, didn’t implode.

  “This would be a good time to talk, pal,” I tell the Kiltech.

  “Kiltech Trooper Zim Terra Ghoulston Banta Harken Harken Harken,” the enemy soldier says.

  “I would prefer that you talk in English. In Earth-tongue,” I say.

  I now realize the rest of the group is watching me.

  “Earth-tongue?” Jaci drawls.

  Warren shakes his head. “You are the worst.”

  “Kiltech Trooper Zim Terra Ghoulston Banta Harken Harken Harken,” the trooper repeats.

  I grab him by the armor plating on his chest. “Who are you after?”

  “Kiltech Trooper Zim Terra Ghoulston Banta Harken Harken Harken.”

  “That’s their equivalent of name and rank,” Sapphire Twelve says. “We won’t get anything from him.”

  Guess they don’t have serial numbers.

  Sapphire Twelve powers up the alien weapon and the soldier’s eyes narrow through the helmet’s tinted eyeslit.

  No fear. No surprise. No remorse. No regret.

  She pulls the trigger.

  Now, nothing.

  “They’ve clearly been following you,” Sapphire Twelve says. She’s taken an uncomfortable liking to pointing the Kiltech rifle at me.

  “That’s impossible,” I tell her. “We’ve been off their radar. All of us. Maybe they’ve been watching you.”

  “Typical Heroic Legion. Blaming others for their shortcomings,” she snaps. “Your trip has been costly. Several Champions have lost their powers. I do not know if they’ll return. Clearly, the Kiltechs want to neutralize us.”

  “We don’t know what they’re planning,” I say. “At least we can warn others about those weapons. We’ll get some of them back to the Crusading Comet so he can figure out how they work.”