Those who would trade essential liberty for temporary security will receive neither.
-Benjamin Franklin
It was one of New York's newest casinos, recently renovated and doing spectacular business. Everyone from Sunset Bain to Donald Trump to Wilson Fisk to George Clooney had put in appearances at the Aces High, simply adding to its prestige and fame. Millions of dollars were won and lost as the people gambled and partied the night away, blissfully unaware of what was happening in the tunnels underneath it.
Sleepwalker wasn't sure what time it was-there was no clock in the room. He squinted through the goggles Wiretap had put on him-whatever they were, they blocked his warp energy, leaving him unable to break free. He could see perfectly well, however-all four of their cold, impassive faces staring at him.
The Thought Police had brought him back to their base beneath the casino, set where few inquiring minds would think to look.
Those that did would then think twice about bothering a place frequented by the very rich and very powerful.
Cuffs and her bizarre binding-jelly had him pinned by his wrists and ankles to an angled table, while Nightstick and Wiretap stood ready. Colonel O'Brien stood impassively, wondering where to start.
"Who do you work for?" the colonel demanded.
"No one," Sleepwalker said slowly.
O'Brien raised his left hand and snapped his fingers.
Wiretap, who stood on his left and Sleepwalker's right, stepped up to the prisoner and released a slow current of electricity, causing him to scream in agony.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," the colonel informed Sleepwalker. "Maybe I can jog your memory. Do you work for Lativeria? Doctor Doom?"
"No," Sleepwalker answered.
"The Red Skull?"
"No, I do not-" Sleepwalker started.
"Symkaria?"
"How many times must I tell you?" Sleepwalker demanded. "I do not work for anyone, and I-"
The colonel raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Nightstick, standing on his right and Sleepwalker's left, raised a baton and struck Sleepwalker across the chest with it, causing his prisoner to recoil in agony.
"We can do this all night long," Colonel O'Brien said calmly. "You've got a lot to answer for, you know."
SLEEPWALKER #8
"COLOR BLINDED"
Minutes seemed like hours to Sleepwalker as he was interrogated. The colonel might have Wiretap electrocute him, he might have Nightstick beat on him, or have Cuffs sharpen Sleepwalker's bindings and cut into his wrists and ankles.
The colonel rubbed his chin slowly as he considered Sleepwalker. He had made the prisoner repeat the story about Spectra and the synthetic diamond half a dozen times, and every single time Sleepwalker had given the same reply. It was exactly what Edward Lansky and his staff had told the police, and he was aware of how Spectra's cohorts had denounced Sleepwalker for getting in their way.
The colonel wasn't satisfied, however.
Sleepwalker was partly responsible for destroying the diamond.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars and months of work ruined.
While everyone from Doom to the Red Skull to HYDRA, the Secret Empire, and Magneto continued to work unhindered.
This fool, whoever he was, was a serious danger.
"Who are you under that mask, anyway?" O'Brien demanded.
"It is not a mask," Sleepwalker insisted, a trickle of blood coming from his mouth.
"Then what is it?"
Sleepwalker was about to reply, before falling silent.
"Cuffs, get the man's mask off," O'Brien ordered.
A tendril snaked down from Cuffs' jelly and sharpened into a blade, cutting into Sleepwalker's face next to his chin. The alien gritted his teeth in pain, holding back a scream, as blood began to trickle down his throat.
O"Brien, Wiretap, Cuffs, and Nightstick each raised an eyebrow.
"Wiretap?" O'Brien prompted.
Wiretap narrowed his eyes and peered closely at Sleepwalker's wound.
"I'm no biologist, sir, but that's clearly the man's skin…or whatever passes for skin," the young technician answered. He reached out and took a blood sample, peering at it closely before placing it on another table.
"Well then?" O'Brien asked. "What are you? A mutant? Are you with the X-Men, Magneto's Acolytes?"
Sleepwalker considered for a moment. He knew that Rick would wake up eventually, and he would be pulled back into Rick's mind. He briefly thought of making up a false story, but dismissed the idea, as O'Brien would be able to easily verify that, and they would only come after him again.
He then wondered if he should tell them the truth. But would they believe him? And even if they did, what would that mean for Rick?
Sleepwalker didn't want to think about that.
His mind made up, he opened his mouth…
…and spat in the colonel's face.
They viciously beat him, they electrocuted him, they cut into him, they broke his fingers and twisted his knees. Fortunately, Sleepwalker's race had a strong tolerance for physical injury, used as they were to fighting the horrors of the Mindscape.
He gritted his teeth and refused to blink, even when Nightstick smashed him across the face.
Rick would wake up eventually.
And I will not let them find out about you, Rick, Sleepwalker thought, shutting himself off from what the Thought Police were doing to him. Even if they kill me, they will not get what they want, and you will be free.
He was still enough of a Sleepwalker to do that, at least.
Wiretap flooded his body with another jolt of electricity.
Nightstick, Cuffs and Colonel O'Brien eventually stepped out for a break, leaving Cuffs alone to restrain Sleepwalker. The hawk-faced woman stared into Sleepwalker's eyes, trying to discern something, although what it was he could not tell.
"Why am I here?" Sleepwalker asked somewhat ironically. "I am now a wanted criminal for saving the lives of the innocent?"
"You don't know what's at stake here," Cuffs replied calmly, not blinking as she locked eyes with Sleepwalker's.
"Then enlighten me, for I do not understand," he answered.
"The colonel will tell you if he decides that will help our mission," was all Cuffs would offer. "Otherwise, I cannot say any more."
"Perhaps I have the answer," Sleepwalker said, adjusting his position to ease the pain in his knees. "All this place...it reminds me of something someone told me recently. You are fighting still, are you not?" he asked.
Cuffs raised an eyebrow.
"Who told you that?"
"A gentleman by the name of Willis…or Hector…or Ray…or Ernest," Sleepwalker answered. "He talked to himself a great deal, gave himself multiple names, called himself the Chain Gang."
"Willis?" Cuffs asked.
Sleepwalker nodded slowly.
Cuffs flinched visibly, although she tried to keep a mask of calm.
Sleepwalker noticed the slip, although he said nothing. He had felt something about this whole meeting, something that went well beyond the destruction of the diamond.
Nightstick passed Wiretap and the colonel some coffee, as they sat down in the kitchen area. He took a deep breath and sat across from Wiretap, the colonel between them. He fingered one of his batons, leaning the other against his chair. The thought crossed his mind if the Chain Gang was really Willis…but God only knows what happened to him, Nightstick thought. He glanced sidelong at the colonel and Wiretap, who were casually sipping their coffee.
Nightstick wondered, and not for the first time, if Colonel O'Brien was the same Colonel O'Brien that Willis had mentioned. Willis's description would certainly match the colonel's personality.
What are you thinking, you cold-hearted reptile? Nightstick thought. Worried about having your ass on the line? Worried about SHIELD or the Daily Bugle catching us red-handed? Planning on what you're going to do next to that green-skinned freak? Fair enough then-suits me just fine.
Wiretap's fingers twiddled with excitement, eager to get back to work.
"Are you ready to return, sir?" he asked the colonel, who sat brooding and staring into his coffee.
O'Brien didn't answer, looking at his reflection.
"Sir?" Wiretap prompted.
O'Brien roused himself with a start.
"You're sure he's been telling the truth all this time?" the colonel demanded Wiretap.
"Positive, sir," Wiretap answered, looking over his lie detection equipment.
"Then tell me the absolute second that he slips up," O'Brien said in a cold voice. "And I mean the absolute second. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y…yes sir," Wiretap said, slightly unnerved by his commander's tone.
The colonel said for a moment, thinking on everything from Doctor Doom to A.I.M. to the Mad Thinker to the Leader, and what they could do with the light-bending technology Hammer Labs had been developing.
His face set in a frozen mask, he stood up and led his underlings back into the interrogation room for another round with Sleepwalker.
"If he continues to remain silent, increase the voltage," he instructed Wiretap, "and the force," he finished to Nightstick.
Both men nodded silently.
This is how it has to be, O'Brien thought calmly. No matter what.
The young woman was dressed in a conservative gray suit, sunglasses covering her eyes, as she took the elevator down below the casino. She had been experimenting with her powers since obtaining them, and she was most pleased with her abilities to cast illusions and hypnotize people.
They would so come in handy, after all.
Her sources had told her the Thought Police were going to capture Sleepwalker and bring him back here, and she would be ready. She knew they were after her as well, but she was not afraid.
In fact, Spectra was ready to take the fight to them.
"348 hours, Colonel," Nightstick stated as he came back into the room. 3:48 in the morning was late indeed, although none of Sleepwalker's interrogators seemed tired as they considered their beaten prisoner.
Sleepwalker was beaten, bloodied and exhausted, wounds marking his body and limbs. The blows would have been enough to knock any human unconscious, and even Sleepwalker, when this beating combined with the injuries he suffered fighting the Thought Police to begin with, was in serious condition.
There was a knock at the door, before Nightstick turned to answer it. Sergeant Carter stood there, his eyes glazed over, with a young blonde woman standing behind him.
"What do you want?" Nightstick demanded. "The colonel is very busy right now."
The young woman didn't wait for Sergeant Carter to answer, before shoving him aside and casting off her disguise. She suddenly glowed with all the colors of the rainbow, a living prism that flared with hatred for everyone in the room.
"You!" Colonel O'Brien said in amazement. "Spectra! What are…"
"I've come to take the fight to you, you bastards," Spectra hissed, purple light flaring from her body. "I've been waiting for a chance like this." She radiated a wave of purple light, causing Nightstick, the colonel, and the advancing Wiretap to fall to their knees, writhing in agony as she attacked their nervous systems. Cuffs immediately released Sleepwalker, lunging forward and creating a shield to protect her comrades as she radiated a beam of orange light at them. Cuffs gritted her teeth as the orange light began to pierce her jelly, reinforcing the shield before hitting Spectra hard and knocking her back into the hallway.
Sleepwalker tore off Wiretap's goggles, looking with extreme concern at the scenario unfold in front of him. He didn't know what Spectra was planning on doing, as Cuffs and Wiretap charged her. Nightstick was about to follow, before O'Brien grabbed his arm, pointing back at Sleepwalker. Nightstick nodded and advanced.
Sleepwalker knew he was in no shape for a pitched battle, but he had to do something. He grabbed the angled table on which he had been lying and flew at Nightstick, slamming it into his foe before warping it into a binding that pinned Nightstick's arms to his side, before throwing him into the wall, chasing O'Brien, Wiretap and Cuffs as they followed Spectra into the hallway.
The central foyer of the security complex stood in front of them, hallways leading off to the detention center and interrogation rooms, a kitchen and rest spot, and a locked and guarded computer and file office. The administration and basic clerical work of the office was conducted here, and the secretaries and security officers stood around with dazed looks on their faces. To O"Brien's horror, the workers had already opened the doors to the computer lab. How did Spectra-?
She stood triumphantly in the center of the room, hovering as she glowed with a whitish light.
"You've brainwashed them so well, colonel," she taunted him, "that it was a simple matter. And now, if you really wish to battle me…"
Spectra radiated a green light, and suddenly a dozen mirror images of her were everywhere, some of them even taking the places of the workers.
"Kill them all!" the images all screamed at once. "Tear everything apart!" They proceeded to do just that, smashing and looting everything in the place, as O'Brien shouted to Cuffs and Wiretap to stop her. Cuffs immediately began restraining many of the hypnotized workers, also forming hammer-headed tendrils to swing at the various Spectras in the room. Several of the images faded to nothing as the hammers hit them, but one worker, disguised as Spectra, was not so lucky and was slammed against the wall.
Wiretap finally discerned which Spectra was the real one and flew up to confront her, his hands charged with electricity as he fired a bolt at Spectra, who quickly dodged it. She retaliated with a blue bolt of energy, freezing Wiretap's equipment and slowing him down. As he tried to recharge, Spectra suddenly released a bolt of red energy from one hand, slamming Wiretap head-on and directing another blast from her other hand into the support pillars holding the casino up above them.
Sleepwalker cursed as he saw what Spectra was doing. There were at least fifty people up in the casino-and no doubt Spectra was quite happy to kill them, if they were wealthy and powerful. He was in no shape for a battle…but…
Sleepwalker suddenly flew up, cutting into Spectra's energy bolts with his warp vision. Spectra scowled as she faced him.
"I knew you were in league with them," she spat. "Come back for orders from the master?"
"They would have killed me!" Sleepwalker answered, hurling an office chair at her, which she easily cut in half with an orange beam, narrowly missing Sleepwalker. "I do not work for them, and-"
"Then why'd you try and stop me?" she shouted, blasting Sleepwalker with a burning hot ray of yellow light. Too badly injured to fully avoid the blast, the exhausted alien nearly collapsed, before he felt something wrap around his waist and slam him to the ground. Cuffs had him restrained, as she, Nightstick and Wiretap engaged Spectra.
Sleepwalker slowly struggled to one knee, barely able to stay conscious. Exhausted by his battle with the Thought Police, his torture and now his burns from Spectra, there was no way he could stand against her or the Thought Police.
Still…
I…cannot…he thought despairingly. Those innocent people…
He faded away, and slowly vanished as he tried to levitate and attack Spectra again.
Back in his apartment, Rick had awoken.
Spectra cast her illusions again, sending the entire room spinning and disorienting the Thought Police long enough for her to blast them with her red light, slamming them against the walls and floor. She continued to radiate red light, repeatedly smashing the columns before pausing to set the office furniture on fire, and then destroy the computers and file equipment, with her fiery yellow light, before continuing to smash and erode the pillars.
The Thought Police charged again, Cuffs grabbing Spectra as Wiretap shocked her and Nightstick reached out to strike her down. She projected another burst of whitish energy, hypnotizing them and leaving them helpless as she continued to work at the pillars.
The people in the casino suddenly felt the floor buckle and shake beneath them as if rocked by an earthquake. They screamed and began running for the doors, panicking as they fled.
Spectra spun in place, red and orange light destroying the pillars and causing them to collapse, bringing down the building. Sheathing herself in her own hard red energy, she rocketed upwards, blasting through the debris before blasting off into the night sky and streaking away over the Hudson River into the night, fading to black.
The Thought Police and everyone in the complex underneath the building would have been crushed if not for a falling piece of debris hitting Cuffs on the head and breaking the hypnosis on her. She stretched out her jelly, creating a protective barrier around herself, the colonel, her comrades and as many workers as she could reach in time.
Above them, part of the casino crashed and fell to pieces as police and emergency crews raced to the scene.
Rick had merely awakened to go to the washroom before returning to sleep, only this time with Sleepwalker in his mind. The weary alien rose gratefully to the passage leading to the Mindscape, drawing in energy to soothe his battered body.
Through Rick's eyes, Sleepwalker saw reports of the carnage in the Daily Bugle the next day, attributing it to the supervillain Spectra. More than twenty people had been killed, most of them innocent patrons of the casino.
All Sleepwalker could think about that day, while Rick went about his daily business, was the absurdity of it all. Spectra wanted him dead for apparently consorting with the Thought Police and helping them in their "bourgeois oppression"-whatever that meant-and the Thought Police wanted to kill him for destroying that diamond.
What were they talking about? he wondered to himself that evening.
They're each others' enemies…so why do they both want to destroy me?
All he had wanted was to keep innocent victims from suffering.
That was all he had ever wanted.
So, why…?
(Next Issue: A depressed Rick tries to find solace with his friends, but after having blown them off so many times before, they've begun to do the same thing to him. To cheer him up, Alyssa invites him to a frat party taking place that weekend. What neither of them realize is that an obsessive former victim of bullying and abuse known as the Bookworm is planning to crash the party, with some of the monsters and villains of literature as his guests! All this and more in Sleepwalker #9: Poetic Justice! Also guest-starring the Amazing Spider-Man!)
