The New Young Justice
Issue 3
By The Writist II and RT/manticoraus
Everyone was on deck. Luke, his prayer beads about his right wrist; Cody, in his armored corset and flair pants in the middle holding up the divine scepter from Apollo; Osk, scowling and tense with rage and anxiety banishing the bits of fear; and Thoughtsniper, dressed like a particularly 'kewl' larper but for his extra large glasses. They were ready to infiltrate a secret base off the coast of California undetected.
It was simple. Phoebus made an egg-shaped globe. Luminous but unobstructing it was large to hold enough air to take them into the water.
Underneath the waves they 'flew' through the depths the bluish tint of the sea mixing with the field's gold produced an ambient verdant. It was a cool dusky moss-hue light that played over their bodies. Making Phoebus's 'white eye' more a pea. It was a foreboding omen to OSK.
The color didn't bother Decon near as much as the slithering cold invading from outside. There it was. The literal tons of frigid water waiting on the other side of a film of light as air was surely growing thick and stale. OSK had been less than candid back at Cody's estate. He might could teleport to the island, even himself and perhaps three others. But he could just as "might" miss and fall into the gnawing cold waters. The hypothermia could make one unfocused, confused, stiff and then unconscious. The still living who experienced this sank until equilibrium met at many yards depth lost in the vastness for so long unless by sheer chance warmed to activity in the world's most vast surface, more shroud than in any jungle. A person could be dying in the seas forever if he were immortal. His fire smothered condemned to a fate worse than death as an innocent was thoroughly purged by block and blade then trap and false hope of any information to assuage a syndicate alpha- NO he needed to focus out of his little horror scenario. OSK couldn't wait to get his body out of the fickle water and his fist into the nearest pirate capo's chest.
OSK had so intense a mind it lead Dwayne astray. Dwayne had to squint hard to focus past OSK and Cody's thoughts. He stood close to the middle as he could directing from behind Cody who's mind radiated with energy from the scepter he held. Between the gloom of his own thoughts, the flare of Cody's tense consideration, and the volatile stream of consciousness from Decon, if not for Luke's current semi-calming mental exercising the- easily claustrophobic- transport and company would have made Thoughtsniper a basket case. He was already struggling with the map in his PDA.
The navigation was not easy. You simply didn't move in straight line in the sea. Currents, life, vision distortion within the waters made the trip a struggle to advance and a difficulty to scout out points of reference. OSK's unease stoked TS's own. This was a freaky way to travel with turtles and plankton and eels a hairbreadth from the soles of your feet. Luke was concerned but on another level that kept such worries just out of TS's general listening range. Dwayne was frustrated with his errant regulation of his power. Without something to help he'd just be hearing the surface too clearly not deepening his insight.
"In, sight, hahahahaah," he snickered softly.
Cody had to, again, recollect one of them and reinforce the direction, "I realize the puns too good," his voice heavy and strained, "But I think your eyes should be finding us that miraculous unguarded back door?"
Dwayne inwardly winced as he again tapped his remote sized computer. He whisked out his cell to focus on a person with one of their own maybe then work his way to some entrance instructions. He waved the antenna towards a blurry darker brown mass that should be the island. Through the transcluent lime egg and ocean that's all the detail he could make out so far. He turned the end like a dowsing wand pointed a little right and then more left. His heart nearly stopped.
He couldn't feel anything but Phoebus's mystically blaring mind
"Uh-oh," Phoebus and TS groaned.
"We're lost," Osk tersely accessed. He pretty much sounded as if he was announcing what was one plus one. Because it was that obvious did.
And Dwayne knew it as he flubbed for something to help, "No, I mean, yes, but not just uh, the island is right there!" Dwayne responded fingers clumsily moving to hit the right keys.
"My shield, I think it prevents physical and other things permission."
"So the island can't be found because you won't accept their hospitality," Luke asked breaking his mental cardio." This sounded awesomely absurd!
"No, not that, I mean permitted to pass, permission. Stuff can't enter or leave the field," Cody gasped.
"So we're lost," Osk repeated in a remonstrative tone eyes narrowing, "And safe to overload on nitrogen or CO2."
"Guys, c'mon," their desperation and distrust quickening Phoebus, "Positive thinking. Its just Dwayne can't get a signal out or receive one with the shield up. I shoulda realized I can't call when its up too I just thought I needed a bigger antennae"
"Size matters?" Luke asked really lost now.
"Well," Cody was flustered his cheeks ready to burst from the blood rush to them
"Oh yeah, I remember now," Dwayne interrupt casting out the exact silhouette of what he was too easily getting from Cody about Luke's accidental entendre, "Ahem, circle the island. I mean spiral to it surfacing us up bit by bit!"
"Right," Cody complied twisting the scepter with both hands as if so large throttle-stick, "Adjusting by two knots starboard and, hey I'm just goofing," he defended himself to impatient glares questioning his sanity, "Sheesh, a boy has a little fun…" he grumbled.
The globe turned about near the island as it began to raise just as the tip of its head. It was about ready to break the surface crest when Dwayne saw out an oblong side and slapped Cody's leg.
"Oh oh oh, this it is. Got it. The entrance turn around," he was surprised Cody simply hung the sphere still and then did a confusing maneuver that twisted the egg room around them towards where Dwayne pointed.
They were treading down the passage without changing where they faced, "Or do that," Dwayne gulped as Cody leaned the scepter forward pushing the ripe smelling (they'd been nervous and sweaty) space into an underwater cave that formed into a hewn out tunnel.
They bobbed up on the surface of the water, the underside swaying and rocking underfoot as Cody vanished the top half of his force-field letting in the air. No one was relieved and Dwayne coughed up. Underwater the jetti had quite the cloying odor and gas from sea carcasses. The group hopped out to the limestone edge, Pheobus last. He just hovered flew himself over the solid grimy calcified shellfish coated floor.
Dwayne strode to the entrance proper. A rectangular and thick armored door it was pressure sealed for when the tide came in. He quickly smiled and then entered the code he'd had on an sequence of keys disguised under a rock oyster.. The seals kept. Dwayne's smile strained wide as he redid the sequence. The door stayed shut and it was rather dark. This area was meant to be abandoned. So there was light from just the phosphorous scum-life, Phoebus, and Dwayne's torch.
Decon folded his arms as Thoughtsniper retried again, "I don't understand. C'mon this has to be it." Osk strode up to the barrier pushing Dwayne aside with one graceful, for him, palm before and pulling it back to curl into a ball.
"No, wait!" Dwayne yelled his voice echoing just as Osk's entire body warped like a cheap Nick at Nite effect. Wavering his image as his hue paled from brown and black to white and grey. Jelly built his dreads seem to raise as if like anemone just flexing mobile as they went mercurial. Even his clothing altered into the misty blurring undead spirit.
"You're a wight!" Luke yelled pointing out his right hand with jangling of his prayer beads.
"No," Cody's voice resounded confidence as his eyes, infused with the scepter's vision abilities, "It's," the new form seemed to retain Osk's petulance and dived through the armored high grade ceramic door leaving only a wicking layering of its smoke that quickly *va-whssk*'ed in the air.
Dwayne was especially captivated. This guy broke all the freakin' rules. A primarily physical and brutal person he hadn't even thought about that ability until now. What other secrets did Decon Ice hide!
The young self-made info maven could follow with his other sense. There were others, crowds, but they didn't react to the sight of Decon. Perhaps becausethey couldn't see him, even Luke in a way had special perception. Or perhaps Decon could control those who saw him! Then Dwayne got a bead on the form's thoughts and intentions and awareness. IT needed a target, a mobile utility, a body. A human one. As it, no, he broke the surfaces to check he stayed inside walls and between floor and ceiling -or vice versa depending on point of reference- Until it found one. Dwayne had to keep his focus on the unique state of mind so not to lose Osk. But it was rather easy because of such the oddity he was. A beetle in a colony of ants.
He lost sight and perspective. Not sure of the real distance measuring things only relative to the alien and fey pov of the wight. Even Osk seemed unclear to things with relation to normal existence. But he was, enough to get the right person.
The door's seals made the tell-tale phfssst of its unsealing. Dwayne was so eager he pulled down his fendora and adjusted his glasses pulling his coat about him. Not sure why, just a strange impulse as the door pulled up to open. He ran inside past the man on the other end. Pathetically small, short, old, and in dockers with a light long sleeve shirt he was balding with soda-coke circle glasses.
Some sorta hispanic, Cody thought, just as he the turned the mole's eyes became unfocus before he fell out and, more unsettling re-entrance the wight pulled out from his body as it reformed into a more human state.
"There, see, door gone, and didn't have to bruise a single knuckle," Decon smirked as he leaned to the door jam rubbing one of his temples, "Rushed it, was a little sloppy. Not much time. Let's roll"
***
Her head smashed to the floor. It doesn't give nearly as much as mattress or pad would. So it is bare then. Its old. Age in the words on the scroll hung to the sides. The smell of something in the walls and incense in a censer before the weapons rack. Venerable age echoed from everything in it to her. Everything but the attacker.
"You are the one weapon in this dimming age," the voice so commanding, "GET UP, stupid #$@%!" She doesn't feel her head for assurance. She pulls up her legs then makes a perfect rocking motion with her waist as fulcrum. She easily rolls to stand. She is cut down again by the attacker's spearing hand.
"You are our egg. You must be strong. Hatch the future. The world. AND always be ready to FIGHT, stupid girl," he again verbally assaults her. She performs the same maneuver, faster now not waiting to adopt aggressive stance.
She is sure. She is twelve. And she rushes at the target with ferociousness rival the cry of any animal.
And then she wakes up. The thin threadbare sheets not even motel would use. She turns her eyes about in the near dark. One, two, three, four walls. One with door and switch. Her chest is tight and she can't breath. It hurts. She doesn't know where she is. Or who that was.
Who any of them were. Why? No where? Where is she?
Her quarters. Not the place listed for Chantel White. Clique's quarters. She tensed every muscle then relaxed to step out of her bed. She needed to calm her nerves. Soon, the strike might come at any time. She was ready to kill all who would threaten her employer. It was her. Not her job. Not her passion. Her.
Then it happened. Three very unremarkable lights. Red, yellow, orange. Right on the wall to the side of a plated knife switch for illumination was the coded alert. She waited the critical three seconds. It sounded. Quickly she pulled up her leotard as she indexed her sisters' status and position. Good. She needed to go meet them.
***
The pain as he head lolled on the floor. He didn't want to have it. He could barely open one eye. But the other was sharp to see his obstacle in this doorless room. Two guards and a card table. A game like Go Fish or Bid-wuisse or whatever loopy rotted tooth pirates played. The wire felt like it was cutting into his wrists, again. He couldn't get at it still to far from his fingertip about his arms. And with the limbs behind his back he couldn't even kick them off.
Robert was mad, desperate, and hurt. He'd never felt this helpless without an outlet even though one or perhaps twenty ways to set it right and Tangent fused into a wall (or purreed by his chopper or any way his burning brain could think of to hurt him) was just two yards away. Two freaking yards to a table of cards. Playing cards. Standard. Not nearly as prepared as a ccg deck but also more versatile if he could play it right.
But for him six feet and fifteen minutes to a weapon was half a foot and a tense finger squeeze for them. Both had rifles- foreign looking. But his vision was blurry. He hadn't been given any water save the cupped bribe that had been splash-slapped at him for making his own demands. Jerry had offered a bottle after but nearly flooded Gamer's nostrils with it. Jerry could drown in his sleep inhaling hot salt water. Gamer hated him so much he had to remember that fate.
Robert had had enough. He'd grab a card. Any card and go off the cuff with it. It might flop but if he laid about anymore he'd pee in his pants and he'd been put through enough. Solid Snake's interrogation didn't last half this long. So he scrunched his knees under his tummy then stood himself up, no hands, just to rush the table shoulder set.
He bowled the dealer guy over. His hand, set, and the rest of the deck was across the floor. The dealer was just on a mis-lain leg but likely not even sprained as Gamer's mouth kissed to the ground.
"GAI! Get back, back down. Or I shut, with bullet to head," his partner growled standing with the, ah now he could see it was a pump action rifle. Robert bit coated paper and then spit it on his own chest. Wetness, with some dark putrid red, dribbled down it's exposed part his half torn shirt. Then it went off. The purposeful wailings from the echo-aided sound system.
It was quick. Back and forth in a language Gamer couldn't translate but knew. The language of the thug-coward. Situation serious. Run so fast as to put fire out on seat of pants. Forget the job and keep bullets. Every second is vital.
And out the door they were. And soon so was Robert lunging, crashing and then balancing himself to run for anywhere. It might just be someone jumping the gun about something but maybe the spoon fed freak had called in the calvary. Whatever the sitch Robert was getting and getting good.
***
OSK, Luke, and Phoebus, respectively, attempted to follow their dark coated guide. But Thoughtsniper was in a full bolt and the place had more than one divide. The catacombs of the base of Tangent's clan weren't simple. Phoebus killed the light as much as he could afford to without turning off his powers. Osk took point as Luke had to be reminded what bring up the rear meant for the fourth time.
"I'm trained to bring light to darkness!" he protested again walking briskly past Cody.
Osk only half sneered and smirked turning a bit to look at Luke. The evil fight took in the energy wielder's loud Hawaiian green tone shirt and similarly colored and spike-mousse treated hair. He had to remind himself they'd traded uneven blows a not too many hours ago. Luke seemed like a skater they'd hooked in from a beach over pass. And though he knew it he obviously was still getting the hang of English as a first language. Osk really wished he'd paid more attention to his schooling in some areas and not used his touch to cheat.
He stopped. His darkness kin eyes made out a curve in the space. They'd made it to a wide open area, not a hall. A relief. But for the fact it was so dark!
"This place is not supposed to be abandoned just less used," he thought aloud just as Phoebus came up from behind head turning from pushing Luke to the rear to the the fore just that scant second late.
"It's a-"
Then the lights hit. Osk made an audible but short rasp covering his overly adjusted to the dark eyes. Phoebus's vision was though heart woundingly clear as Luke only squinted some. They saw them. Near fifty guards armed with conventional, military and high-tech weapons. A few more in wide squatted armors with see through triangular rounded faces holding their pilots standing near two and some meters high. The variation changed. No shirt here. An open chassis there. Even the ubiquitous bandanna's, sabers, and tattoos. One had a fire arm with bird feather fetishes another with rags adorned. But the fact was the same. These were men ready to fight and shoot. And kill them now.
"Welcome," a voice sneered, "Or more accurately. Surrender and prepare to suffer for your intrusion. In case you're wondering. After the whole heliocopter fiasco we were expecting you. And our sonar's actual design was more than enough to make movie of your little swirly break in. So really, what has taken you so long. And why are you fumbling idiots! Oh yeah ahem, unleash a torrent of fury by the will of Kai Mosk-En Jerimiah"
Phoebus was just quick enough to make the futile semi circle wall.
***
Thought Sniper slunk around the corner, keeping his back pressed against the cold metallic wall. His mind probed the area, attempting to sense the presence of any unwanted guards. Sensing nothing, he continued to creep along the wall.
Suddenly something prickled at the back of his sense. He dove forward, hearing the dull thud of a combat boot against metal. Scrambling back to his feet, he came face to face with an enraged Clique, her long leg slowly lowering from its sidekick. Though her movements were slow, Thought Sniper could feel her eyes pinning him where he stood, mesmerizing him like a cobra's.
"Hmph. More perceptive than you look."
This girl must have some serious skills. She disguised her presence until it was almost too late…Thought Sniper clenched his hands in front of him, aiming two fingers towards Clique. Suddenly a sparkling sphere of blue energy shot forth, like a bullet. Clique flung herself to the side with almost inhuman speed, but the attack glanced off her shoulder.
A curse of pain erupted from her lips, but moments later she was darting forward, kicking Thought Sniper in the gut. His vision grew blurry as he felt the wind forced from his lungs with the intense exhaustion from the strained use of his power.
"Dammit! My entire arm is numb! What the hell did you do?" She grabbed his jaw in a vice-like grip, which almost immediately softened. Her eyes, which had been brown and sharp with focused fury, grew hazy and unfocused, as if the world around her was invisible.
Thought Sniper felt the bizarre tingle of a psychic link being formed, but as his mind attempted to sift into Clique's he found himself repelled. Mentally shrugging, he shoved the dazed assassin away. She cried out, a mewling, soft noise, as she landed in a sprawled out position across the frigid floor. Ignoring this, Thought Sniper began to sprint away.
"You bastard! What the hell did you do to her?" an English accented voice echoed out. Another Clique, clad in an artfully ripped uniform and excessive jewelry, leapt from the shadows. Her fist hammered into Thought Sniper's jaw, spinning him around once before he dropped to the ground.
Clique A paused, gazing at the unconscious young man and touching her fingers to her temple gingerly, confusing written across her ivory features. "What the bloody hell did you do to us?"
***
It had been a valiant effort. But it was over before it began. The armors had flight capabilities and another set of troops had come from behind. And then in the chaos they'd been separated. A swarm of striped soldiers covered them, this would be typically when they could bust loose and then the enemy. Until a Clique had entered. Joining the ambush with a deciding bowie knife. It's teeth just not biting into Gamer's neck. He was spitting epitaphs and obviously had been caught in the middle of his own foray through the catacombs of the base. It had been a reluctant but sure surrender by all three desperate individuals.
Cody winced as his arm was twisted behind his back, the insisting barrel of his captor's gun prodding him along the catwalk. A rank, chemical smell assaulted his senses, causing him to gag and his eyes to water slightly.
"What the-"
"Shut it, kid!" The gun barrel sharply rapped against his shoulder blade, silencing any further protests.
As he stepped into the harsh light, the wave of emotions that swirled around him nearly brought him to his knees. Fear, confusion, pain, anger, shame, all swirled together to form an incorporeal fist that hit Cody like a sledgehammer. He groaned, lurching forward out of his guard's grip to balance unsteadily against the railing. The guard muttered something and firmly grabbed a handful of Cody's blue-striped shirt.
As Cody calmly pulled himself beyond the emotions around him, he took a glance at the cavernous room in front of him. The sight hit him as hard as the emotions of the room did.
It took no contemplation to discern the epicenter of those emotions; hanging suspended in midair by glowing shackles was Decon. He was limp, his eyes unfocused and his breathing shallow.
Oh God, he's drugged, Cody realized. A few yards below him was a vat, the source of the chemical smell. It was filled with a bubbling, greenish liquid, steam gathered over it like mists over a pond in chilled morning. Cody assumed it was acid.
Another glance revealed Thought Sniper beside a woman Cody recognized as Clique. His hands were bound behind his back, and there was a painful looking bruise on his cheek.
Gamer and Luke stood nearly below Cody's position, held at gunpoint by several camouflage-clad guards. Luke's finger was painfully devoid of his ring.
That's everyone, then . . . Cody thought to himself. The guard holding him was a burly, muscular man, and armed. The man beside them was just as big, but unarmed. In his greasy hands he held Cody's scepter. A gleam of light peeled across its surface, almost pleading Cody to take it back.
Then Jerry Tangent himself stepped into view, in all his facial treatments and overly personalized Armani glory. Heavily bleached teeth flashed in a cheesy grin, and his painfully styled shoulder blade-length hair gleamed its overneccesary purple highlights in under the intense lamps not hiding the receding hairline.
"Ha! To be found out by a bunch of kids," he orchestrated as if for a slide presentation, "not even mainstream heroes, but a handful of nobodies" paused for digging a finger into his temple as if cleaning his ear, a repulsive east coast exec mannerism, "It's really kind of embarrassing, isn't it? Bad for my image and all that." He shrugged arms out at sides elbows bent up casually dismissive.
Cody felt his blood boiling.
"I simply can't let this get out. You there, on the catwalk. You're the Diamant kid, aren't you? You of all people should understand the importance of maintaining image! Your parents got lucky, getting such a charismatic kid. And openly gay, too. A liberal's dream. Who would've thought you were a super hero? Tsk, tsk, doncha know they're a force supporting the corrupt stale regime." He did a humming chuckle that made captive throats burn to scream choke on the b.s. he flung.
Cody's deep brown eyes narrowed, flashing dangerously. "For one who cares so much about appearance, you obviously don't work on your physical one very much."
Patting his soften middle his mouth leered "Oh, how catty. Well . . . I guess it's no secret that all of you will have to die. Such a pity . . . the youth of America and all that."
Jesus, we're screwed.
***