Yesterday's Heroes (Consortium of Chaos Book 1) (42 page)

Her grin widened.  “I don’t know…I
think I’d have to be tied up again…and you’d have to use that…”

“Well, I suppose a hero has to do
what he must, ma’am.”

He picked her up and carried her to
her bed and tossed her down onto it.  She unzipped her costume and he tossed
his shirt aside.  He looked down at her and smiled, holding his telekinetic sex
toy up so that she could see it.  “Now then…time to prepare for an
invasion…”

Her heart raced as he knelt on the
foot of her bed, and the rod his mind created slide slowly up her inner thigh….

And then there was a knock at the
door.  He swore savagely as she jumped up to get it.  “If you open that door,
you are on your OWN for the next prom.”

She laughed and zipped up her
costume again, and opened the door revealing…Prometheus?  The man grinned like
he knew exactly what he interrupted and was utterly THRILLED to be doing it.  “Hey
guys!  Been awhile.”  He handed her a file.  “You missed one of these when you
cleared out Architect’s offices.  This one was in his hidden safe.  It looks
important, so you might want to have a look at it before you two get too
involved…
at
the prom.” 
He grinned and then sauntered away
without waiting for a reply.  “Have fun, kids!”

She closed the door and tossed the
file at Wyatt.  “He says you might want to have a look at that.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes.

His voice took on his impression of
the actor from the TV series’ high pitched voice. 
“No way, man!  No way!  I
am not missing the prom for Pro’s lame mission, Harlot!”

She laughed and crawled back into
bed beside him.  “Well, he never stops by like that unless it’s something
important, so you should probably focus on it.”

“Do I have to?  I’d much rather
just focus on you.”  A sensual smile crossed his handsome face, as his eyes
slowly slid down her body.

She tried to ignore her suddenly
rapid heartbeat.  “Work first, then
prom
.”

“My god, you’re evil.”  He sighed
dramatically.  “
Fine
.  I’ll read his
stupid
memo, but then we’ll
get back to the good stuff, right?”

She nodded and absently hit play on
the TV show again while she waited for him to get done looking at the stupid
folder.  On the screen Fabricator and Roxanne were dancing around the prom
floor, as the fire from the shuttle crash reflected off of the mirrored disco
ball, creating the most magical horrific crash site imaginable.  She reached
out and began to gently massage Wyatt’s groin with her foot, and he tried to
push it away, laughing.  “Come on!  You’re the one that said this was
important!  I need to focus!”

She ignored him.  Fabricator on
screen was leaning down to whisper into Roxanne’s ear, and Harlot said the
familiar words along with her. 
“Told you I’d make it to prom, baby.  Heroes
never let you down.”

She sniffed.  No matter how many
times she saw that scene, it still gave her goosebumps.  Beautiful.  Just
beautiful.

Wyatt began flipping between the
pages rapidly as if searching for an answer to something.  He swore, his face
growing pale.  “…Oh
shit
…”  He jumped from the bed and raced towards his
briefcase to out a letter from his brother, and tore it open.  His eyes rapidly
scanned whatever his brother had written to him, and then he started looking
around for his shirt.  “Call everyone.  Get them down here!”

“Why?  I don’t know what’s in that
file, Wyatt, but I’m SURE it can wait until tomorrow!”

He tossed the file at her and
started putting on his shoes.  “There’s not going to BE a tomorrow, Angel. 
That’s the problem.”

A
little boy wearied with a long journey, lay down at the edge of a deep well.
Being within an inch of falling into the water, Fate, appeared to him, and
waking him from his slumber, said: "Wake, little boy, for if you had fallen
into the well, the blame would be thrown at me; for I find that men are sure to
blame their calamities to me, no matter how much by their own folly they have
brought it on themselves."  Moral of the story?  Everyone is captain of
his own destiny.

Harlot was staring out over the
group as Multifarious arrived.  The villain was late, and walked to his/her
seat like someone from a ‘Keep on Truckin’’ bumper sticker, dressed as a
stereotypical 1970’s pimp, complete with cane.  His/her wide brimmed hat had a
long blue feather in the brim, and sat jauntily on the opaque milky Killroy
etched faceplate.

Harlot’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re
ten minutes
late
, Multifarious.”

The mysterious individual ever so
slowly sank down into the chair, as if in slow motion.  “I am not Multifarious. 
Today I am…”  They gave a characteristic dramatic pause.  “…
The Whoarder!
”

Several people in the room broke
out laughing. 

Harlot couldn’t help but smile
herself.  Under Wyatt’s guidance, Mull really was getting better at finding
names for himself/herself.  That was a pretty awesome name for a pimp themed
villain, who would undoubtedly keep a large supply of prostitutes on hand.

She refocused on her presentation. 

“So, as I was saying, the folder
which Prometheus provided to us indicates that the doomsday weather machine in
the reports we received last week, is being constructed by the heroes
themselves
.” 
She let that sink in.  “And what’s more, that the heroes intend to SET IT OFF
at some point within the next 24 hours.”

Holly frowned.  “Why would the Capes
want to use a weather machine?  Isn’t that…you know?  Kind of
OUR
thing? 
Are they copying us now?  That seems like
cheating
.”

Vaudeville raised his hand.  “Maybe
they wanted to be the first ones on their block to have one.”  He grinned
widely as if expecting them to get the joke.  He waited a second longer, and
then his smile faded.  “You know?  Like the Great Gazoo?”  He paused, obviously
still expecting them to get it.  “He was hanging out with the Flintstones cause
he got kicked off his home planet for making that Doomsday machine…because he
wanted to be the first on…his block to…”  He trailed off and sighed.  “
No
one
gets me.  This is just like that time I accidentally blew up the
science lab with my baking soda volcano, and Principal Schredder tried to keep
me from entering the science fair.”

Harlot pinched the bridge of her
nose and prayed for patience.  “That was your
TV show
, Cory.  You were
just
acting
then.”

“You sure?”  He looked uncertain.  “Because
I think that really happened.”  Since Vaudeville’s accident, his memories about
what was real and what wasn’t, had gotten jumbled.  They both looked over at
Librarian for a ruling.

She straightened her glasses. 
“Klose
but No Cigar,
episode SE706:
Corruption Eruption
.  Original air
date: 11/…”

The Commodore stood, cutting her
off, not seeming to care about Cory’s memory problems at the moment.  “Their
causes to conduct this construction will need to be considered before our…”

The Cynic cut him off.  “Bullshit! 
I can tell you right now what those ass clowns are up too!”  He stood, and
leaned against the table.  “We’re through the looking glass here, you poor deluded
fuckwits.  It’s perfectly obvious.  They are constructing that machine, so that
they can use it, destroy some shit, blame us, and then STOP our activities.  The
little ratfucks are manufacturing glories for themselves.”  He pointed at
Cory.  “And Libs is right,
as usual
.  That was one
hell
of an
episode, Cory.  You got robbed of a goddamn
Emmy
that year, man.  Some
powerful fucking shit, let me tell you.”

The Commodore frowned, focusing
only on the first half of Cynic’s words.  “Creating crimes to counteract?”

The Cynic nodded.  “My guess is
that they’ve been doing it for some time now from the looks of this file.”  He
flipped through the pages.  “Lots and lots of people killed so that they could
look like bigger heroes when they took someone down.  I KNEW I was being far
too trusting!  Dammit!  What better way to look heroic than to stop your own
schemes?  You know EXACTLY how to do it!  All you need to do is find a patsy to
pin it on, kill THEM, and you’re suddenly the biggest thing since Godzilla’s
cock!”

Librarian nodded.  “Despite Mr.
O’Probrian’s characteristic colorful language and entirely inappropriate
allusions, I have reviewed the paperwork, and he is correct in his assessment
of the situation.”  She paused.  “For once.”  She flipped to another page. 
“Additionally, I have conferred with my counterparts in the Technology and Weapons
Departments, and they concur with my assessment that diagram MC-116-019 of the
device’s schematics, contains a miscalculation in the design of the cooling
mechanism.  This error will mean that the device will not behave as intended,
and once activated, will instead become much more powerful and act as a sort
of…”

Holly interrupted.  “Weather bomb.”

“Precisely.”  Marian straightened
her glasses.  “I predict that it will cause all manner of weather related
disasters to occur simultaneously within a several mile wide area, and once
started, we will be unable to stop the chain reaction, even if we shut the
machine down.  The area will be destroyed, and most likely completely flooded,
within moments.”

Harlot flipped through the pages
and pages of gibberish and scientific jargon in the report.  “You sure about
this?”

Marian actually looked up for the
report to stare at her for a beat, as if amazed that Harlot would say something
so stupid.  “I am
always
sure, Harlot.  I can assure you; this
will
happen if the machine is activated.”  She pulled out a new file.  “I have
casualty estimates, if anyone wants to see them.  I predict low-to-mid seven
figures, but given the unpredictable nature of weather patterns, those numbers
could rise exponentially if the reaction spreads to surrounding areas and
beyond.”

Harlot sat down, feeling stunned.  “So,
you’re saying that this could…what?  Kill the city?”

Marian glanced down at her
paperwork again, and then back at Harlot.  “The data would support such an
interpretation, yes.  Possibly more.”

Harlot pinched the bridge of her
nose, feeling sick.  “And they’ll blame us for it.  All those people…They’re
going to kill all of those people, and place the blame on us…”

Tyrant placed another honeysuckle
blossom into the cage for his prisoner to enjoy.  “I care not what those fools
do or don’t do.  If they wish to separate the wheat from the chaff with their…”
He snorted and rolled his eyes at the name.  “…‘
weather bomb’….
it will
only save ME the trouble of doing the same at a later date.  The worthy of this
city will be sparred, and the undeserving will be expunged.  That is the
natural order of things.”  The prisoner stopped flying around the blossom and
made a chirping sound.  Tyrant nodded.  “Absolutely.  Well said.”

Megaris considered that for a long
moment.  “I concur with Crown Man and the Princess of the Meadow; this pitiful
scheme is below my notice.  Let them turn the inhabitants of this conurbation
against you; the opinions of such insignificant creatures matter not.  Weak
beings always fear the strong.  They can be easily dispatched at any time,
should their senseless squeals of protest grow too bothersome.”

Harlot shook her head.  “We have to
do something.”

Librarian pulled out another
folder.  “Agreed.  As such, I have already taken the liberty of divesting our
corporate arm of insurance investments which would plummet if the city were annihilated,
and instead, created a portfolio heavy in construction, and search and rescue
organizations.  When the heroes destroy the city, it will prove quite lucrative
for the Consortium.”

Tyrant nodded, obviously pleased
with Marian’s foresight.  “All in favor of letting those fools give us the
credit for wiping out the feeble and useless populous of this city, and making
a profit in the process?”

Several other hands around the
table immediately shot up.  Enmity raised BOTH of hers.

Poacher frowned in confusion.  “Who
in the everlasting fuck is the
Great Gazoo?”

Overdriver squinted, also trying to
follow the conversation.  “Ah think he went ta prom with Cory or somethin’…”

Harlot shook her head, ignoring them. 
If they didn’t care about saving the planet, she had to find something they DID
care about.  “This is not about that, guys!  This is about them trying to blame
us for stuff we didn’t do!  They think they’re SMARTER than us!  Think that
they can control OUR options!  Tell us what to do!”

Tyrant put his hand down.  “An
aspect of this I had not considered…”  He paused, his face growing increasingly
angry as he thought the matter over again.  “...now I find myself
speechless
with rage over their plan to blame me for an action which I have long desired
to commit, but have not yet found the time to begin.  I work on MY timetable
and no one else’s. 
MINE
.  They have overstepped their place and must be
knocked down.  I shall
destroy
them.”

Cynic nodded.  “I’ve never killed
anyone that didn’t have it coming…or who didn’t annoy me…or who wasn’t in my
way…or who I didn’t feel like killing…or who wasn’t NEXT to someone who had it
coming, annoyed me, was in my way or who I felt like killing, and I’m NOT going
to be blamed for breaking that iron clad rule now!  It’s the principle of the
thing!  If they want to kill this city, more power to them.  Have fun; I’ll
bring the popcorn.  But they are NOT going to blame me for it when they do.”

Robber Baron looked down at the
cane in his hand.  “I find that I can bear the moral outrage of this city
quite
well.  If the Freedom Squad wishes to lay the blame for whatever they are doing
at my feet, I simply do not care.”

Holly pounded the table.  “They’re
going to HURT PEOPLE!”

“Bitch
please
.” Poacher
scoffed.  “What is it that you think we do here?  We hurt people
EVERY
FUCKING DAY!”

She pointed a finger at him.  “I hurt
the people I WANT to hurt,
bitch, NOT
who someone else decides I should
hurt.  No one limits my options.  No one.”

Lord Sargassum stood.  “I think
that…”

Cynic put his forehead down on the
table, talking right over the other man.  “So help me god, Julian…if the words
‘Fish-person army’ crosses your fucking lips, I will smack you, right now.”

Julian sat back down.

Wyatt threw his arms up in
exasperation.  “I just don’t even see what the argument is about.  Their plans
have NOTHING to do with us!  Who
cares
if they try to turn the city
against us!?!  Good.  Let them.  It’s just another distraction to keep them
occupied while we take them apart.  This city already hates us.  What’s one or
two approval points one way or the other?”

Harlot stared at him a moment.  “Because
if they ‘stop’ this weather machine they’re creating, they’ll get the credit
for it.  That’s a big ‘W’ in their hero column, Wyatt.  Your plan to make them
look useless will go down in flames if they accomplish something of this scale.”

He shrugged.  “Then we’ll just have
to go with the alternate ‘kill them outright’ plan B, I suppose.”

“I support that idea.” Gurrier
nodded.  “First goddamn thing he’s ever said that was sensible.”

Keystone rubbed his hands together
expectantly.  “I was just thinking that.”

Bobbi rearranged her cap.  “I
agree, Sir.”

Poacher stood up and started
walking towards the door.  “Well, let’s go do that, right now then.”

Harlot leaned over the table.  “We
stand here at the turning point, ladies and gentlemen.  For once, there is
something out there far worse than we’ve even been, or ever wanted to be.”  She
looked at them meaningfully.  “People are going to die
.  MILLIONS of people. 
More people than we’ve ever killed, put together…well, discounting Megaris,
Tyrant, Poacher and Gurrier from the calculations anyway.  And probably Enmity. 
They’ve killed a LOT of people…”

Cynic frowned.  “Hey!  What about
me!?!  I killed a bunch of…”

“…But we can prevent these deaths. 
We’re the
ONLY
ones who can prevent them, actually.  We have it in our
power to do something good for this city, and save those people.  So, are we
going to help them or not?”

Gurrier snorted.  “Why would we want
to do that?  Hell, I feel like I should go apply at the Freedom Squad and see
if they’re hiring.  Those guys are apparently better at this than we are.”  He
shook his head.  “I signed up here to make money, not take part in the Charge
of the bloody Light Brigade again.  I already did that once, and it wasn’t fun. 
Society’s on its own.  Their grisly deaths will just make robbing their corpses
easier.”

Cynic raised his hand.  “I still
smell a trap.  I’m telling you, this is all a setup.”

Librarian stared at him.  “You
cannot actually be insinuating that they would kill millions of people just to
have a chance at capturing YOU, Mr. O’Probrian.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, that’s
exactly
what I’m saying, yes.  In fact, that’s what we all KNOW they’ve actually been
doing!  They’ve hurt a lot of people in an effort to turn people against us.  That’s
what this whole thing has been about.  Why should this be so different?  They
pretend to be evil so we show up and stop them, then *BAM!* they arrest us! 
This is the perfect way to get us all there!  Think about it!  In fact, I bet
that’s the reason why Wyatt’s even here!  Fuck-face McGee over there is a MOLE
sent in to get us into this position!  Trying to win your trust, and then *BAM!*
knife to the fucking back!  Oldest trick in the book!”  He pointed a finger
across the table at Wyatt.  “You evil
motherfucker! 
I can’t believe you
thought you could just get
AWAY
with this!  I know your game now, pal! 
You’re the big fucking-hero-man who comes here and turns that whole side of the
table against us.   Then, you start chasing after
OUR women
like your
dick is on fire and you need something wet to put it out, and now
THIS!
” 
He began to look hurt.  “I can’t believe you would do this to us.  I planned
your fucking
bachelor party!
”