A Tale of the Marvel Universe
by DarkMark
Part 6
In a remote section of the Himalayas is where you would find the Great Refuge of the Inhumans. Take this information on faith. If you find it, you will not be able to enter it.
The Red Chinese have tried several times over the past few decades, and have been beaten back every time. True, they could lob an atomic bomb at it, but that would be a waste of a bomb and would deny them the prize, the great technology to be found there and the people of great power who might be subjugated and made to serve The People.
Besides, the bomb might not even work. There was no way of telling, with the people of the Great Refuge.
So it must, indeed, be taken on faith that there is a Great Refuge and that Inhumans, beings of great power, live there. They are of basic human type, but have been altered in ages past by the Kree and many, possibly most, have been physically altered by immersion in the Terrigen Mist. Most of those who emerge have developed super-powers. More than a few have lost strictly human shape.
Johnny Storm did not have to take the existence of the Inhumans on faith. He had fallen in love with Crystal of the Royal Family, and she with him. Indeed, she had done a term as a member of the Fantastic Four during Sue Richards's confinement while awaiting childbirth. There is always a direct line from the Baxter Building's video communications room to the CommuniCore system that serves the Inhumans' Family Royal.
Black Bolt sometimes got irked when Crystal and Johnny spent too much time on it exchanging sweet nothings. But then again, he was in love himself, with Medusa of the six-foot, prehensile red hair. So a glance from her would usually convince him not to make a sign of discouragment towards her little sister.
This night, Crystal had taken another such call from Johnny Storm, and noted his look of excitement. He blurted out to her, "Crys, I'm going back to college! And I'm leaving the FF for the duration! What do you think of that?"
"College? Oh, you mean your place of schooling!" The Inhuman girl beamed. "This is something you want to do instead of being a super-hero, Johnny? I feel joy for you, if that is the case."
"It's something I feel I have to do, Crys," he said, sitting back in the swivel chair Reed had designed. "It's tough to get a high-paying job without a degree in our society, and it's getting tougher. I've been in the FF all of my adult life, and, heck, that pays well. But it isn't the same thing as...well, everyday life."
Crystal chuckled. "From what I know of your world, the FF is about as far from everyday life there as one could get. Among my people, you'd be living an everyday life." She grew a bit more somber. "Johnny, does that mean you will not be seeing me again?"
"Oh, Crystal," he said, "don't even think about that. Honest, babe. I'll see you whenever I can. I promise. It's just that I'll have obligations, studies, a degree to work for."
"A degree? Oh, that is a certification of learning. An authorization."
"Yeah, an authorization. I've got to make the grade, Crys, and it'll be all up to me. This time, I'm not going to blow it. I'm going to get my diploma, just like Wyatt did. You remember Wyatt, don't you?"
"Without question." Crystal recalled the big man who had accompanied Johnny and Lockjaw on their quest to find a way into the Refuge when it was encircled by a Negative Zone barrier of Maximus's creation. He had been a roommate of Johnny's in the college they had attended. Unlike him, he had stayed with it, and already graduated.
Johnny Storm looked a bit more pensive. "The bit is...don't tell Reed or any of the others about this...I'm thinking of not coming back to the Fantastic Four."
"Oh, Johnny, no! Why? You have been part of their family for, well, since they began. How can you forsake them in such a manner? It would be like me leaving my clan."
"Yeah." Johnny paused. "I'm thinking about coming to...maybe...live with you."
"Johnny." She barely whispered it.
The blue-costumed youth went on. "It'll depend on a lot of things. Whether or not Black Bolt will let me in, whether or not I can stand to be out of my country, whether or not I can leave Sue and Reed and Ben behind. Also, whether or not you'll take me."
"Take you as a...husband?"
"Yeah," he said, only loud enough to be heard.
"I...oh, Johnny," said Crystal, seriously. "You know what my answer would be. Of course, yes, if it were only up to myself."
"But it isn't?"
"No." She shook her head, in the manner she had picked up after living with the Fantastic Four for some time. "As part of the Family Royal, Black Bolt must rule on the marriage of our members. And marriage with outsiders, even one such as yourself, may prove difficult."
"We've been through that several times before, and each time, if I recall, we convinced ol' Blacky that we were meant for each other."
"True," she said. "Yet, for all that, we have not married."
"There's the little problem of your pollution allergy to deal with," he pointed out. "Neither Reed nor any of your boys have figured out a way around that yet."
"No, not yet," Crystal agreed. "But answer me this, Johnny: if you so wish to love me, if you wish to marry me and live among us, why do you feel the need to go to your college? Would it not be easier to simply come now, and see what may be done?"
The Torch was silent for a long moment, his mouth open. Then he said, slowly, "Because I'm covering all my bases, Crystal. I want to get those two letters after my name, in case I'm not able to make it in your world. I want them for myself, too. I want to be more than just a member of the Fantastic Four."
"And more," she said, "than just my lover."
"You know I'll always want that," he said, and she believed him.
"Well, then," said Crystal, "what can I say?"
"Say that you'll wait for me," he said. "And that when I come, you'll be there for me."
"This will take long?"
"Only about two years."
"That can be a long time," she said. "But perhaps not too long. If you will be there for me, Johnny, then I will try to be there for you. I know that I want to be."
"I'll try and see you as often as I can, Crys," said Johnny, leaning towards the camera. "I'll try to make it between enrollment and the start of classes. That is...if I'm welcome there."
"You are more welcome than any of your race, save for Reed, Ben, and Susan," said Crystal. "I will speak to Black Bolt."
"Thank you, Crys. Thank you a whole lot."
She saw him lean even closer and then only saw the front of his uniform, and, finally, a darkened screen. In response, she hugged her monitor, as well. It was a ritual they had performed many times and, in the abscence of human flesh to hug, it served as well as it could.
When she released it, she saw only the hold-pattern that signified no transmissions were coming through.
How many years had she known him? She counted. From the last year of Maximus's reign to the sixth of Black Bolt's second, going on the seventh. Seven years. Now, it would be nine years before they could be married, if they could manage that at all.
Still, if that was what it took, there was nothing to do but wait. She had learned that art well when the Inhumans were trapped behind Maximus's Negative Zone barrier.
Perhaps Reed Richards or one of the Inhumans' biologists would devise a cure for her allergic condition. That would enable her to go to Johnny in her times of leave. But even if that were not the case, he would see her when he could. The important thing was that Johnny was building himself a life of his own.
And he was going to include her in it, as well.
She danced out of the palace to tell her family the good news. Once outside its walls, her mien sobered.
The Great Refuge was being repaired from the damages wrought on it by Maximus during his brief and terrible recent reign. He had developed mental controlling powers, used them to induce amnesia in Black Bolt for a time, taken over the Refuge again, and almost turned the Inhuman race over to the hated Kree to use as soldiers in their war with the Skrulls. The rest of the Royal Family had been turned out, save for Crystal, who had been brainwashed temporarily by Diablo. Then Black Bolt had returned with the Avengers, freed his people from Maximus's domination, and saw his brother returned to madness and impotency.
Once again, they had to rebuild.
The Family was standing near a large, half-broken stone wall carved with the work of a long-dead artist. Karnak was planted before the wall with his head bowed towards it, his eyes closed, his body motionless. The others stood in a half-circle about him. The ends of Medusa's six-foot red hair twitched in impatience, though her arms were folded. Triton, his green, fish-scaled body gleaming in the morning sun, stood and breathed heavily, his life sustained by the nutrient fluid pumped through the plastic tubing on his shoulders and arms. Black Bolt stood almost as impassively as Karnak, his black-clad arms folded, taller than any of them save Gorgon. And Gorgon himself, masked, massive, and powerful, was having trouble waiting.
"Karnak, you've been standing there for seven minutes," he snapped.
Medusa looked at him. "Be silent, Gorgon. Now."
He gave her a surly look, though he loved and respected her as a relative. Gorgon was a man of action, and too little action started his hooves twitching.
As quietly as possible, Crystal sidled up to the family and whispered in Medusa's ear, "I have the most wonderful news about Johnny."
Her sister whispered back, "Very good. But tell us in a moment, Crystal. Karnak is concentrating."
The girl shaded her eyes with one hand and waited for the deadliest of the Royal Family to end his trance.
Finally, Karnak's head came up. Without a word, he stepped over to a spot six paces north of where he had been standing. His foot came down firmly in the dirt and left a print. Karnak stepped back and pointed.
"Here," he said to Gorgon.
Gorgon sighed and went to the place. "Whenever you're ready, cousin," he said.
Karnak went to the wall and stationed himself beside it, his hand, pent by a metal band that encircled it just below the fingers, flattened and ready for a chop. Black Bolt stood on the other side, just beyond the wall's edge.
Medusa said, "Very well, then. On my signal. Now!"
At that, Gorgon stamped his mighty hoof.
Shock waves penetrated the ground, causing a localized earthquake. Crystal gasped and clutched at her sister's arm for support. No matter how many times she felt his power, she could never get used to the ground shaking underneath her.
At the same time, Karnak's hand bladed out and struck the wall at a certain place, sending an impact that cracked it just below the time-worn carvings, sending a fissure that cleaved the stone its entire length.
An instant afterward, Black Bolt's outraised hands shot forth twin streams of energy, manipulating free electrons and their charges, creating a short-lived cylinder of force that bore the falling wall on itself, buoying it up for a moment, then ceasing to exist. The wall fell with a lesser impact than it would have unobstructed.
Triton smiled. "An admirable feat of engineering, Karnak. The entire panorama of Kleth is intact."
"Was that not my intention?" said Karnak, impassively.
Black Bolt's open right hand sought the sky in his sign of approval. Thanks to the incredibly destructive power of his voice, he had to communicate in nonverbal fashion. To those who saw him, it was as good as being given an award of merit.
Crystal couldn't hold herself back anymore. "Black Bolt, Medusa, all of you, listen! I've just spoken with Johnny Storm and he's given me fabulous news. He is attending a place of knowledge for the next two years for an Authorization. After that..." She gulped, regained her breath, and plowed on. "After that, he wants to come here and marry me!"
The news was met by silence. And not just from Black Bolt.
Triton said, tentatively, "This is news that must be most pleasing to you, Crystal. And as it surrounds your heart in warm waters, so should it do for mine."
Medusa's arm went about her sister's shoulders. "What did you tell him, little one?"
Crystal had trouble finding her voice. When she did, she said, "Well, I...I told him that I would have to ask Black Bolt, and at any rate, it would have to wait for two years while he was learning. I...did not presume to...to speak for you, my cousin."
It was impossible for Gorgon to sneak up on anyone. She heard his hoofbeats as she was talking. He stood before her and bent down a bit to face her. "Little Crystal, we know--we could not help but know--what you and Johnny Storm feel for each other. Nonetheless, you know the enjoinment on mixing genes with the Outside, even if it is one such as he. Especially the genetic matrix of the line of Agon."
Crystal said, more fiercely than she wanted to, "The house of Agon has mixed genes with many other families! We don't turn out inbred idiots!"
"Crystal, if you want Black Bolt's sympathies, watch your tone," warned Medusa.
Karnak spoke. "Marriage with Outsiders is not without precedent, but is undertaken with great caution. We have allowed you great latitude in this matter, Crystal."
She wheeled on him. "You thought I'd get him out of my system by having a fling with him? Was that what you thought?"
Medusa was silent. Triton, after a pause, said, "Well, it was not certain, Crystal, but..."
"Do you find it so impossible that I might actually be in love with him? Even if he is an Outsider? And he has powers greater than any the Terrigen Mist could probably have given him. To the Outsiders, he might just as well be an Inhuman."
"Show some respect for tradition, Crystal," rumbled Gorgon. "You are one of the Family Royal, despite what you think. You are expected to behave as one of the Family Royal."
"I believe my behavior and decorum matches yours any day, Old Ironhooves," spat Crystal, her hands on her hips. "Also, I am acting as a woman does when she is in love."
"Yes," retorted Gorgon. "As a complete idiot."
"Gorgon!"
Both turned to look at Medusa. "If both of you would be silent, then Black Bolt can communicate what he thinks of the entire matter. Thus, I suggest you both shut your mouths and look at him."
Blackagor Boltagon, as he was formally known, looked upon both of them with a face intentionally hard to read. The folded membrane under his arms shifted slightly in the breeze. After a moment, his arm came up.
There was so much to read in one of his gestures, if one knew how.
The black-gloved hand stopped at shoulder level, parallel to the ground. Slowly, its five fingers splayed to their fullest extent, and remained thus for five seconds.
Then hand and arm dropped, and Black Bolt showed them his back and trudged off.
The gesture meant: The matter is taken into consideration.
Neither approval nor disapproval were signalled. The other Inhumans watched their leader crouch, leap, and hurl himself into the air, catching the wind on his arm-membranes, and flying.
Ostensibly, he was headed to another section of the Refuge that needed renovation. But all of them knew he was doing it to avoid being pressed further.
Crystal stood silent, breathing deeply, and wondering if she had been stupid to act as she did. Her sister Medusa hugged her tightly with one arm, and stroked the side of her face with a twisting curl of her hair.
"Do not push him more at present, little sister," said Medusa, gently. "He has not yet disallowed it. In that, you have won somewhat of a victory today."
Looking at the dot in the sky that was Black Bolt, Crystal said, "I hope so, Medusa. By all the genes of Agon, I certainly hope so."
-M-
Hank and Jan Pym never could stay away from Avengers Mansion for very long, and that was hunky dory by Clint Barton.
After all, the three of them had been core members for a darned long time, starting back when Jan got herself kidnapped by the Collector, which resulted in Hank resuming his super-hero status after a short retirement, with a new costume and a new name, Goliath. Times had changed since then, with Hank retiring his giant-size powers in favor of the costume and shrinking powers of Ant-Man, and Clint going from Hawkeye to Goliath and then back to Hawkeye. But Jan was still the Wasp, as she'd always been, and all of them were still friends.
"So the thing is, she goes and falls in love with the Vision," Hawkeye was saying, seated in front of a cup of coffee on the rec room table. "I mean, can you put that in your loop, Hank? A freakin' synthezoid, and she falls in love with him. I saw it!"
Jan smiled, sitting there in a red Wasp costume with blue trim. "Maybe she goes for the tall, red, and enigmatic type, Clint. Besides, with that kind of guy, she'll never have to worry about getting pregnant."
Hank Pym rested his head in both hands. "Oh, Jan. Trust you to find that kind of angle on it!"
She favored him with a grin. "Hey, I found an angle on a stuffy ol' biochemist who never got out of his lab coat unless he was tooling around with a bunch of ants, didn't I?"
"Yeah, well..." Clint's hands found the cup and he chugged down the last half of the coffee within it. "It just points up how lousy my luck's been with women. You'd think it'd be easy for me, right, guys? I mean, heap big Avenger, making pretty decent bucks, not exactly a low-profile position, and I do have chicks wanting my autograph when we make public appearances, I mean, you know that."
"We know it, Clint," said Hank. "But go ahead."
"But I had a big thing for Natasha, and then she left, and, like, there was nobody but Wanda around. So I tried to get something going with her. But that was like back in the old days, Cap's Kookie Quartet, and she just put me down as a smartmouth."
"Which you were, Clint," said Jan. "Let's face it."
"Well, yeah, but a nice smartmouth. I would'a thought she'd see through the Jerry Lewis to the Errol Flynn beneath, know what I mean? But it didn't work that way. They left, they came back, and I still was hoping for something to heat up. The only other girl on the team was you, Jan, and you and Hank were practically joined at the antennae."
Janet Van Dyne giggled.
"But while Ronan had us captured awhile back, I saw Vizh and her trying to kiss, and I went, Oh man, that's it for me, she's found herself a guy, even if he is made out of plastic."
"Well, plastic and fiber and a good deal of metal and wiring," said Hank Pym, who, thanks to a recent journey, knew the Vision inside and out. "Plus some energy-forms and other stuff it's hard to describe to a layman. But I know what you mean."
"You're too literal, Hank," chided Jan.
"Now, even he doesn't know how to handle it, but he's learning," said Hawkeye. "And if it makes her happy, great. But that leaves me out in the cold again. And 'Tasha..." Clint sighed, and settled back in his Formica chair. "'Tasha said she never loved me."
"Clint." Jan looked him straight in the eye. "She lied."
"How do you know, Waspie? The only ones there in the room when she said it was her and me."
"Have you ever been a woman, Clint? We know the territory. I saw you and Natasha together. She did love you, Clint, but it just didn't seem to be enough for her. You know the phrase the kids use these days? 'I have to find myself'? Well, I think that's what she had to do. She had to go out and see what kind of a life she could make on her own. And sometimes, when a person does that...she even leaves behind the guy she loves."
Hank Pym's hand found hers, and her fingers went around his in reassurance.
"Oh. Great," said Hawkeye. "She loved me, but she left me anyway. And now she's hooked up with Daredevil, from all reports."
Jan shrugged. "Seems to be. You need to find somebody else, Clint. Done any looking?"
"Uh, not exactly," he admitted.
"Want to see if I can fix you up with somebody?"
"Jan, please," Hank said. "I'm sure Hawk can handle his own affairs."
"If he could handle them, Henry Pym, he'd be out having one right now. Well, Clint, what about it?"
"Who did you have in mind?" asked Hawkeye.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I can darned well find someone. I didn't exactly live in a cloister, until I hooked up with this guy."
"Yeah," he said, wryly. "I'm still not sure why you stayed with me after we blitzed the Creature from Kosmos." An instant later he said, "Sorry, Jan. My brain was lagged about a half-second behind my mouth. Lousy signal-to-noise ratio."
Jan's expression showed a bit of sorrow. She remembered the adventure that had brought her and Hank together, the one in which an alien had killed her father, the one in which she had become the Wasp. "It's all right, Hank. Believe me, it's all right."
"Yeah, well," said Hank. "Listen, Clint, we'll be glad to double-date with you if Jan can hustle up some company. Would you like to do that?"
The man in the purple mask considered it. "Well, yeah, might not be a bad thing, all considered. Just make sure we go to a place where we can't be disturbed by super-villains with a grudge, okay?"
"Count on it," said Hank.
As if on cue, two others entered the room. One of them through a door, the other through a wall.
The former was the Scarlet Witch, mutant superheroine, the brown-haired beauty in the tight red-and-pink outfit, whose hex power had confounded the Avengers' enemies and, a life earlier, made things harder for the X-Men when she stood with Magneto. She had been an Avenger since the second configuation of the team, and was an honored member.
The second was the Vision, a green-and-gold costumed, red-skinned android, whose bodily density could be altered to allow him to penetrate solid objects unharmed at its lowest setting, or to shatter them with diamond hardness at its highest. He seemed cold and as precise as the calculations of his computer brain, but those who knew him well knew that he had emotions. And one of the ones he had prominently displayed recently was that of love.
"Good evening, you three," said Wanda. "Why are my ears burning? Are you updating Hank and Jan on the latest gossip, Clint?"
Hawkeye looked sheepish. "Aw, just kinda keeping them informed, Wanda."
The Vision stood side-by-side with the woman he had come to care for. "I hardly find it a thing to be concealed, Hawkeye, except from the world at large--for now," he said, in a near-sepulchral voice. "My love for Wanda seems an eminently logical thing, given the parameters."
Janet Van Dyne played her fingers on Hank Pym's tousled pate. "Did I ever tell you, Vizh, that you remind me of this guy, somehow? If I think hard enough, I'll put my finger on it. I know I will."
The Vision, arms crossed, considered it. "Is this intended as a joke? I will respond with appropriate approval, if such is the case."
"Never mind, Vizh," said Wanda, seating herself at the table. "It's great not to have a Skrull-Kree War or the armies of Olympus in front of us, for once. It's nice just to be able to get together and talk."
"Hey, keep talkin' like that and you'll jinx us, Witchie," said Clint. "It's like talkin' about a no-hitter while you're having one."
"Okay. Let's wait," said Wanda. For five seconds, they were silent. Then she said, "Well? See any super-villains?"
"Not within ocular or aurally perceptible distance," allowed the Vision.
Hawkeye rested his elbows on the table and looked somber. "Maybe not, Vizh. But I've been an Avenger long enough to know. We never get peace very long here. Just respites."
There was more silence as the others fumbled for a reply. Finally, Jan said, "Anybody for a movie? It's kinda late, but I think we could make the second show of Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice."
"Sister Diane at the orphanage would beat me bloody if she knew I'd seen that movie," grumbled Hawkeye.
"I won't tell her, Hank," Jan reassured him.
Nothing else presented itself, so the five of them (the Vision donning a disguise) went out in civvies for burgers and then for the movie.
No super-villains attacked during the entire picture, which Clint counted as a mixed blessing.
-M-
Elsewhere in New York, a meeting was taking place.
Dr. Otto Octavius had reassembled the members of his old organization, the Sinister Six. It consisted of himself, Kraven the Hunter, the Sandman, the Vulture, Mysterio, and Electro. The problem was that, since then, two of the others had joined other bands of operatives in their lines of work, and their associates had to be invited as well.
So along came the Sandman's friends in the Frightful Four, which, lacking a fourth member, were the Wizard and the Trapster. Octavius had made the mistake of calling the latter "Paste-Pot Pete" at first, and the Sandman had to wrap his elongated, grainy arms about his partner to restrain him.
And then there were Electro's Emissaries of Evil, which comprised a number of foes of that Spider-Man wannabe, Daredevil. They were, he prompted himself, the Gladiator, the Matador, and the Leap Frog. The Stilt-Man was supposed to have made it, but he'd gone off to try and bag DD himself and gotten captured.
Mentally, Octavius shrugged. No big loss. The others were there mainly as a courtesy to Electro.
"It's settled, then?" he asked the others. "We're going ahead with this, as a unit?"
The Wizard regarded him with what looked like professional disdain. "We need the money," he said. "And if it works as intended, our problems with the competiton should be over afterward."
Electro said, "Our group agrees, Doc. Go ahead and make the call."
"Very well, then." One of his metallic, many-jointed arms reached across the room for a phone and, in casual fashion, brought it back. His right human hand dialed the telephone, as his middle artificial one held the receiver to his ear.
He waited stolidly for the connection to be made. Then:
"Password."
"Fire," said Dr. Octopus.
To be continued...