Issue 5- The New Champions
Tuesday, May 19, 1987
The SuperCenter
New York City
"Can I help you?"
Detective Clark, NYPD, looked askew at the Starguard International security officer who had stepped directly in front of him as soon as the elevator doors had opened.
The guard, who had about four inches of height on Tim, wore the standard SI silver armored uniform and carried an impressive-looking laser pistol on his hip.
The lieutenant gave him an admiring look. "Yes, I'm sure you can, young man. You seem very competent."
The security man did not fall for the faux compliment. His mouth tightened as he glared at Clark.
Tim flashed him his badge. "Paranormal Division."
The guard frowned. "Are you expected, lieutenant? This area is-"
"It's all right," the voice of Expert-X came from somewhere out of sight. "Let him through."
The SI man moved back to sit behind his security desk as X came out of an open office to meet Lt. Clark.
"Sorry to bother you," Clark said as they shook hands.
"Don't worry about it," the Expert replied. "Our elevator is this way. Follow me," he said and began to lead the lieutenant through the open area of the 45th floor of the SuperCenter, which seemed at first glance little different from any other business office.
"Starguard is pretty expensive, I hear," Clark commented as they walked, gesturing at least half a dozen SI men who were striding purposefully through the halls.
"The League of Heroes used to use them," Expert-X replied without turning around. "Marksman is an old friend of Jon Quest. He said they were worth the cost."
"Expecting trouble?" Clark asked as they stopped in front of an armored elevator door.
X jabbed at the call button and looked sharply at him.
"Always," he said.
One floor up, Persona opened the door of her private office and frowned at the mixed assemblage of normals and paranormals who were gathering in the conference room.
Or more specifically, at one of them.
She then closed the door and looked back at Phaser.
Jack Griffon, aka Phaser, the former leader of the Champions, sat slumped in Persona's thick leather office chair. He leaned over the desk, with his elbows propped up and his head buried in his hands. Although he was in costume, his opaque violet hood lay on the desk like a discarded dish rag.
Next to the hood was a pile of cut-out newspaper articles, all dated from within the last two weeks.
Griffon lifted his head slightly and looked at the newspaper clippings. He seemed to be studying them, although Persona knew that Phaser had already read them and was in fact merely avoiding her steely gaze.
"We don't have a lot of time," she told him.
Phaser finally looked over at her.
If he hadn't looked like he'd been sleeping in dumpsters and under bridges for the past two weeks- as he had been- Jack Griffon would have cut a much more impressive figure. His lean, muscular frame seemed more sallow underneath his costume. His bloodshot eyes looked out from under a mass of brown hair that, despite having been washed earlier that morning for the first time in a week, was still ragged and greasy-looking. His attempt at shaving had left his chin and neck a patchwork of stubble and bare patches, interspersed with pinpricks of dried blood.
"Less than you know," he mumbled.
"One crisis at a time," Persona reminded him. "Jack, if you want X to accept Tachyon, you've got to speak to him."
Phaser shrugged. "I really don't care, Angela. I accept him. When Montage Man was about to kill me, that man saved my life. If he says he'd make a good addition to the Champions, then that's good enough for me."
"I seriously doubt Montage Man would have killed you," Persona responded. "He's never known to have killed anyone and his psychological profile-"
"You weren't there, Persona, so kindly shut the hell up."
Angela Pearson sighed, running her hand through her new black-and-red streaked wig.
"Jack," she said after willing herself to remove any traces of frustration from her voice. "Are you certain you're up to this- returning to active duty? You don't have to-"
"Yes I do, Angela. I most certainly do have to do this."
"Why?" she shot back.
"I can't tell you," was Jack's response, as it had been every time this point had been brought up over the last twenty-four hours.
Persona walked over to him and bent down to look directly into his eyes. He did not flinch.
"Jack," she said softly. "I understand if it's too painful to tell me, but please let me use my telepathy. I promise you I won't look at anything else."
"There's nothing you can look at in here that's safe," he replied, tapping his temple. "Everything is connected." His gaze turned hard. "And you swore you would never use telepathy on a friend without their consent!"
"I did and I won't." Persona stated, straightening back up again. Her voice turned hard, despite herself. "It tears me up to see one of my best friends falling apart and pushing away everybody who might be able to help him. Can you understand that?"
There was a knock on the door. Startled, Jack snatched his hood and yanked it over his head.
"Phaser? Excuse me sir," came the voice of one of their temps. "Expert-X is here, along with a Detective Clark from the police."
"Thank you, Miss Monroe. We'll be right out," Persona called back while Phaser got to his feet.
"What the hell is Cracker doing here?" Jack muttered, but before the two could get to the door it opened and Lieutenant Timothy Clark of the NYPD poked his rumpled-looking face in.
"I'm not intruding, I hope."
"And if you are?" Phaser snapped.
"Then I live with shattered hopes," Clark responded with a smile as he turned to Angela. "Hello, Miss Persona. Good to see you as always."
Persona simply nodded as they shook hands. She was giving the lieutenant a calculating stare, and what her instincts told her made her wary.
"Where's X?" Phaser asked, looking towards the open and empty doorway.
"Between W and Y, or so I learned in first grade," Clark said with an easy shrug. "Actually," he added, seeing Phaser's hands clench into fists, "he's having a chat with your Mr. Tachyon. Mr. Phaser sir, I wonder if I might have a private word with you."
"I'm really not interested in your harassment today, lieutenant."
"Harassment? Now let's hold on here," Clark said, as he raised his hands. "I'm only here on orders from my superior, Captain Halliday. I'm to bring him a report on any personnel changes in the Champions as soon as they occur; even before they're announced to the press."
"That sounds like a BOSS directive." Phaser's voice sounded like little more than a growl. "When did the NYPD become the Bureau's lapdog?"
Lt. Clark smiled, not taking the bait. "We're all on the same side here, Mr. Phaser. Personal differences have to be put aside for the greater good."
"And just who decides what that good is?" Phaser asked hotly, but Persona stepped between them at that point.
"We really have to get out there now, lieutenant. I'm sure Phaser will be able to speak to you after we get this settled."
"Of course." Detective Clark bowed and gestured graciously for the two paranormals to leave the room. He followed, but Persona saw the policeman's eyes travel to the stack of newspaper clippings on the desk, and an expression of confirmation flicker across his weathered face.
Coffee and doughnuts had been placed on the large wooden conference table, but remained largely untouched. Phaser dropped heavily into a chair and poured himself some coffee as Lt. Clark fished out his small spiral notebook and a pencil and moved off to one side as Persona surveyed the situation.
Although one of the chairs had been specially reinforced for him, Ivan Vassilovich stood against one wall, arms crossed and not speaking to anyone. Under a large, overhanging brow, Brick's yellow eyes moved constantly around the room, not lingering on any one person or gathering for more than a few moments.
At one end of the oval table stood Expert-X, Freedom Flyer and another paranormal. This man wore a skin-tight costume of white which was criss-crossed in black lines. It somehow managed to avoid the appearance of a spider web due to the fractal, irregular nature of the black lines. His boots, cowl and gloves were of a similar design. He was engaged in a heated discussion with the Expert that Persona could tell was headed towards an argument, despite Freedom Flyer's best efforts to calm things down, even to the intent of stepping between the two.
There were no other supers present. Persona frowned. She had been expecting more.
Randolph Gleason, the Champions' primary publicity manager and spokesman, was also involved in a three-way conversation with Stanley Hammond, their team lawyer and another man Persona did not recognize. The newcomer was in his late twenties, about 5'10" tall and about 185 lbs. He had brown hair, blue eyes and sported a thick brown mustache. He carried a briefcase and wore a charcoal-grey suit which looked nice, but which Persona guessed was off the rack.
"Gentlemen," she greeted the trio on her approach.
Hammond nodded towards the stranger, who was already holding out his hand to her. "This is a fellow attorney, Roger Thessel."
"Pleased to meet you," Persona gave him a professional smile as they shook hands. She couldn't quite hide the question in her eyes as she glanced back over at Stanley, but Roger caught it.
"I'm from the UNTIL legal department," Thessel said, handing her his business card. Angela looked at it, but it did little to help clear up her confusion.
"This, ah," Gleason cleared his throat. "This concerns the New Centurion."
Persona's heart sank. The New Centurion was a martial artist hero employed by the United Nations Tribunal on International Law who had expressed a keen interest in jumping ship and joining the Champions when Angela had spoken with him several days earlier.
"You are aware that there was a joint PRIMUS-UNTIL publicity exhibition for charity earlier today?" Hammond asked her.
She nodded, frowning. Despite the noble cause behind the event, in Persona's experience such exhibitions always turned into a combination of political posturing, testosterone-based one-upmanship, and self-serving agenda seeking. Despite Randolph's constant pushing, Phaser had always kept such things to a bare minimum, causing Gleason to grumble, "Honor doesn't pay the bills, you know."
"Please don't tell me there was a problem with the New Centurion," Persona pleaded, although she already knew her hope was futile.
Thessel looked uncomfortable. "Unfortunately, I would have to say that there was indeed an incident. The New Centurion, well, he-"
"He got into a fight with the Golden Avenger."
Persona gaped at Gleason, and then turned to Stanley, who was grimacing and running his hand over his mostly bald pate.
"I'm afraid that's true, Persona. The New Centurion is under arrest at this point in time, although I am certain he will make bail, as there were no serious injuries to either party."
"What the hell happened?" she asked.
Gleason snorted. "We're talking about Robert Kaufman here, Persona. Did you ever meet a cape who didn't want to take a swing at the Golden Avenger sixty seconds after meeting him?"
"Be that as it may," Hammond chastised his fellow Champions employee, "taking potshots at America's foremost hero is not the best way to ingratiate yourself with a superteam you're planning to join. Not to mention the general public."
Randolph shook his head in disagreement. "Free publicity is good publicity. Controversy sells."
"Not in this case," Persona said. "We want to go as squeaky-clean as we can with any new members."
"And yet you're considering Tachyon?" Gleason asked in derision, pointing at the paranormal now shaking his fist at Expert-X. "And besides," he continued, now glaring at Persona, "when did Phaser grant you power of attorney?"
"Fine. Ask him yourself." Persona threw up her hands and walked off. Angela Pearson was renowned for her self-control, both as Persona and in her secret ID, but she needed a personal time-out to count to ten and regain her composure. She eyed the doughnuts hungrily, but at the last minute sighed and went for the lone container of low-fat yogurt that she knew Tracey Monroe had put on the table specifically for her.
She was scooping out the last remnants with her plastic spoon when Ivan's unmistakable heavy footfalls, even on the carpeted floor, told her Brick was approaching.
The former Soviet super eyed her with his sardonic, audible grin.
"I take it New Centurion will not be joining us today?"
"Nyet," Persona replied in her best attempt at humor.
Brick sighed, the force of which was enough to rustle the hair on Persona's wig. He looked towards the door which led to the elevator. "I had heard Ringlet might be showing up. She did resign from SAFE, no?"
"Yes," said Persona. "And all the scuttlebutt I heard was that she was moving to the US, but I don't know whether she was planning to join a team here or just go solo. I wasn't able to secure a meeting with her, but I did leave her a message explaining our situation. I hoped…"
Persona sighed herself, letting the statement die along with her hopes.
Raised voices filled the silence.
"Leader?" shouted Expert-X. He stared incredulously at Tachyon before whirling around to glare at Phaser. "Did you know about this? This loose cannon wants to be our leader? Are you nuts? I wouldn't trust him to lead a pack of lemmings off a cliff!"
"Fortunately for us all, that's not your decision to make," Tachyon replied, his voice suddenly calm and controlled in a deliberate contrast to the Expert's. "I don't know why you're so surprised about this. I know Phaser told everyone that he was relinquishing the post."
"Yes, but I thought- I thought…" Expert-X glanced over to Persona, who shook her head.
"I'm not qualified to lead, X. The obvious alternative is yourself."
The Expert seemed to have lost his voice. His mouth moved for several seconds before he could find words for it.
"No. I'm fine as I am, but I can't be…" he trailed off again.
"I believe the word our monosyllabic friend is searching for is responsible," Tachyon said, his own voice smug now. "I am capable of assuming that responsibility, and I am willing. Since no other candidates seem to have showed up, I believe your decision is clear."
"You nearly killed me, you bastard!" X shouted. "You have a non-lethal attack, you moron! I've seen you use it!"
"X," Phaser said. His voice seemed tired and he avoided facing his featureless hood at the Expert. "He'd already tried it on Montage Man, and it was ineffective."
"So that gives him the right to start spraying lethal radiation around like that?" Expert-X yelled. "Those damn tachyons of yours nearly killed me! A little warning would have been nice!"
"I was aiming at Montage Man," Tachyon replied, shrugging. "I had no idea you were about to leap into my line of fire. It's you who should have announced your intentions. In any case," and here Tachyon waved off the Expert's objections as if he were shooing away a fly, "there are other considerations."
"Please," Freedom Flyer pleaded to the room at large. "I think we all need to just sit down and take a deep breath. There is no problem here that we can't-"
"What other considerations?" Expert-X snapped, ignoring FF completely.
Tachyon tilted his head at X. "For starters, you can count on the fingers of one hand all the heroes on Earth capable of traveling faster than light through outer space. I happen to be one of them, and I assure you I'm the only one so blessed who'd even consider joining you."
"And just why would that be so important, Mr. Tachyon?"
Everyone turned to look at the person who had asked the question.
Tachyon smiled.
"Because, Lieutenant Clark, the lack of just such an individual proved to be disastrous to this team last month and I for one do not believe that particular danger to be over."
"I don't think we should be discussing that particular subject right now," Persona interjected, giving the detective a warning shake of her head.
"Very noble of you," X jeered at Tachyon. "Where were you when Traveler put out the call for help?"
"Out of the country, as a matter of fact," Tachyon replied. "Had I known, I of course would have joined your expedition."
Even without her mutant power of telepathy, Angela Pearson considered herself a good judge of character.
And she was reasonably sure that Tachyon was not telling the truth on this particular point.
"I believe that, as written, your charter dictates that if the Team Leader resigns, he chooses his own successor," Tachyon continued, his tone once again smug as he addressed Expert-X again. "If you're really keen to be group leader without the responsibility that the position entails, I do believe there's a nice, safe, corporate superteam forming tomorrow just over the river there." He finished by jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
The Expert looked over at Phaser.
"I'm tired of this bullshit. Phaser, what's your decision?"
The retiring leader of the Champions sat so still that X was about to repeat his question when he spoke. His voice was hoarse, and hard to catch.
"He's the new leader, X. That's my decision, and I'm asking you- all of you- to accept it."
Persona looked at the others. Brick seemed impassive, but Freedom Flyer seemed to be on the verge of tears, although she said nothing.
Expert-X shook his head and headed towards the elevator. "I think I need to get out of here," he said softly.
"That's probably a good idea, X," Persona said, trying to still her own wildly beating heart. "Take some time and think it over."
"You misunderstand me, Persona," the Expert replied as he stepped into the arriving elevator and turned around to face them as the doors began to close.
"I'm getting out of here because I'm no longer a Champion. I quit."
Persona began to head after him, but one of Brick's thick fingers on her shoulder held her back.
"Let him go, bushka."
She turned around to look at him. Ivan, as far as she knew, could no longer shed tears since his transformation. Brick's eyes were filled instead by what Angela thought was an understanding she never thought think he was capable of.
"We all must find our place. He will still be our friend."
Everyone in the room, even Tachyon, decided not to say anything.
Phaser felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Lieutenant Clark looking at him.
"May we have that talk now, Mr. Phaser?"
As Phaser sat down again at Persona's desk, Clark looked over his shoulder to see Persona coming back into the office as well.
"I'm staying, lieutenant. Consider me his personal attorney." She wore a thin smile, but her eyes were hard.
Tim regarded her for a moment and then shrugged, turning back to Jack.
"I see you collect newspaper articles, Mr. Phaser," Clark said.
"It's a recent hobby of mine," the paranormal replied in a dull tone as he opened a desk drawer, swept the clippings into them and then slammed it shut. "My collection is also private, if you don't mind."
"You know, it's a funny thing," Clark replied as he reached into the folds of his tan trenchcoat and pulled out a folded manila envelope. "I've also started my own little collection. Now being a policeman and all that," he explained with a sheepish grin that Persona found not at all genuine, "I guess I'm kind of easy to predict. My clippings all concern crime stories."
He unfolded the envelope, removed a wad of cut-out newspaper clippings and tossed them on the desk.
"Violent crimes in particular. Murder, suicide, things like that."
Phaser's blank hood turned towards Persona. She in turn stared into Detective Clark's brown eyes, which seemed lock in a perpetual squint, as if the cop was always staring into the sun.
"I forgot to thank you Miss Persona, for relating to me the conversation you and Miss Dumont had with the Xertan girl that night."
She felt her throat going dry. "You're welcome," she said, her voice sounding to her own ears as hoarse as Phaser's.
"I was just wondering," Clark shrugged again, "if there had been any kind of an update since then. Any new information come to light that you think might be useful for me to know?"
They stared at each other.
"I can only say one thing with certainty, lieutenant," Angela finally said. "I'm not as sure of my theories as I was that night."
Timothy Clark of the NYPD, Paranormal Division, sighed and placed his newspaper articles back in his manila envelope, which he refolded.
He suddenly seemed much older to Persona, and wondered if she looked the same to him.
Clark glanced back over to Phaser, whose head was facing him.
"Thank you," he said to both paranormals. "I'll leave you alone for now."
They watched as the detective closed the door behind him. Phaser turned towards Persona.
"They're here, Persona. The Frochen. You know they are."
She sighed and ran her hand through her wig. "We don't know that for certain, Jack. We'll keep our eyes and our ears open for now."
"We should tell Tachyon," Phaser muttered.
Persona shook her head, however. "Not yet," she said, her voice clipped. "Not until I know a little bit more about what our new leader is hiding."
She strode to the door, yanked it open and walked out.
Persona stopped dead and stared at the elevator, whose doors were opening again.
Survivor slowly stepped out and into the conference room, and then stopped. Angela thought she looked rather like a cat walking into unfamiliar territory, although the young woman had been staying upstairs for over a week now.
"I hear," she said hesitantly, looking around at everyone present.
Angela drew in a sharp breath. She hadn't realized the Xertan's hearing was that acute.
Survivor took another faltering step forward. "I want to help," she said. "I want to be a Champion. I know that is- a good thing. I know that is how you help your kind, but I do not know exactly what it means to be a Champion."
Freedom Flyer walked over to Survivor, put her arm around the Xertan's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze while looking around ruefully at the others.
"Right now, Survivor," she said, "I don't think any of us do."
