Before we get started here, the lawyers need to have their fun:
As usual, I don't own jack scratch. When it comes to money, I'm flat busted, so don't even bother trying to sue me. The characters belong to Disney, the software belongs to Bill Gates, my kidneys belong to my bookie, and all your base belong to us!
Chapter Five
What was it about super-villains and standardization, anyway?
In appearance, the lair was virtually identical to every other bastion of evil she had ever encountered. There was a large, circular, central chamber with a raised platform running along its entire circumference. Along the platform, there were banks upon banks of computer consoles, accompanied by various high-voltage transformers and storage tanks of that mysterious green fluid which seemed to serve no purpose. An over-sized video screen stood to one side, while all around the lower portion of the room, doorways led to various antechambers and storage areas. Rising above all of this, a great, vaulted dome soared menacingly overhead.
All together, it was a quite impressive, albeit familiar sight. If Ron had been there, he would have surely made some wisecrack about interior design, or evil building codes.
But Ron wasn't there…
For Kim Possible, the great teen hero and savior of the world, this was truly dark territory. As it stood, she had little memory of what had happened immediately following Ron's suicidal plunge. By the time she had managed to haul herself back over the edge of the cliff, her mind had gone into full shutdown mode. She could vaguely remember clawing her way back onto solid ground, and finding a squad of synthodrones waiting there to meet her. She hadn't even bothered to resist when they had grabbed her and dragged her into the lair, shackling her wrists and ankles to the large device, which she now found herself bound to.
Rufus chattered franticly from a small cage a few feet away, trying desperately to get his female human back in the game, but his efforts proved fruitless. For Kim, the shock of losing Ron was simply too much. Awash in a sea of grief and misery, her senses became numb, and her iron-clad resolve waned. It was as if when Ron had died, a small piece of herself had died along with him, and without that piece she simply ceased to function.
In a way, she ceased to be herself.
"Vell, vell, vell…;" the heavily accented voice called out from behind her. "Not nearly so vocal right now, are vee?"
Upon seeing Dementor, Kim simply closed her eyes and hung her head. By all reason, she should have been struggling against her restraints with every ounce of strength she had, desperately trying to rip out the heart of the person who had taken from her the one thing in all the world which she held most dear.
For the life of her, however, she couldn't muster the strength. She was emotionally dead inside; beyond anger, beyond sorrow, beyond anything besides pure numbness. She just plain didn't care anymore. All she wanted was to be back where she felt alive; back where everything made sense; back where she felt she belonged. All she wanted was to be back by Ron's side.
Peripherally she was aware that Dementor had gone into another of his patented rants, bragging about his brilliant plan and how no one could stop him now. He spoke of how, when the machine was activated, 10,000 volts would flow through the conduit she was bound to, and by virtue of that, through her.
Even this particularly gruesome detail barely registered with her. The prospect of being transformed into a charcoal briquette seemed pale by comparison to the anguish she was already suffering. Besides, once it was over, she would be with Ron again, and that thought gave her some strange and bizarre sense of peace.
"Achtung! How long until ze target is in range?" Dementor bellowed to a henchman seated at a nearby console.
"Five minutes, twenty-four seconds until satellite interface uplink!" came the henchman's snappy reply.
"Ah… excellent!" Dementor replied giddily before turning to another henchman. "Deploy the telemetric interception transmitter!"
"Jawohl!" the henchman replied enthusiastically, and his fingers fairly flew across his own console. Within moments, the gargantuan dome above them began to open, accompanied by a corresponding opening in the floor. From the latter of these orifices, a tall, slender device began to emerge, towering ever larger above the chamber as more and more of its length was revealed. It rose from the floor like a demonic tree, and upon reaching its full height, deployed a satellite dish-like array from its apex, resembling some sort of grotesque blossom.
"Und now, install ze Positrinic Power Modulator!" Dementor shouted, the sinister grin upon his face growing ever larger.
Yet another henchman shot up out of his seat and dashed down a hall just behind Kim's position, carrying the PPM with him as he went. Moments later, he returned with empty hands.
"Two minutes, seven seconds to interface!" the first henchman called out again.
"Ach… Start ze timer!" Dementor commanded, pointing to the large video screen along the far side of the chamber. "Deez things are always so much more dramatic vhen zhere iz a countdown!"
As if on cue, the image of a digital clock appeared on the screen, its oversized numbers counting down the seconds until the monstrous machine would be activated; the last seconds of Kim's life.
Kim felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over her as she remembered Ron's last words. "Have a good life," he had said. He had wanted her to move on, to live a full life and ultimately find some measure of happiness throughout it all. This was why he had done what he had done. This was why he had made the supreme sacrifice.
If only he had realized what a crock of hooey that was, she thought. How the heck was she supposed to ever find happiness without him? Did he really think that she could just pick-up the pieces, find another guy, and live happily ever after? Was he really that monumentally dense?
Then, in a moment of absolute clarity, she realized that, in a sense, he was. He had been completely oblivious to the significance he had in her life. He had no clue regarding just how much he meant to her, and it was all for the simplest of reasons.
She had never told him…Oh sure, she had told him that she loved him when they were dangling like fish bait from the end of the grapple, but that was just a gut-check response, uttered in the heat of the moment. The fact that it was true had little impact on the overall situation.
The big picture was that she had never taken the time to really sit down and convey her feelings in a meaningful way that would have made him understand. She had never articulated just how much she relied on him, depended on him, how she found his mere presence to be reassuring, how in a crazy world full of villainy and evil masterminds, he was the one thing that made her feel safe, that made her invincible, that made her Kim Possible.
Perhaps, in some small way, her own death would serve as penance for this failure, she thought. It was the only thing she had left to give him.
As the final seconds ran off of the giant clock, a computerized voice began a countdown from ten, and Dementor stepped forward to a large lever mounted on a particularly ominous-looking console. With as much pomp and pageantry as he could muster, he took hold of the device and loudly proclaimed for all in the room to hear: "Let history record Professor Dementor as ze greatest villain who ever lived!"
Kim clenched her teeth and winced as the giant lever fell, and the synthesized voice shouted "ZERO!"
---------
If there was actually such a thing as a "deafening silence," then this was it. The anticipation was almost palpable, and yet the world stood so quiet that Kim swore she could hear herself sweating. This overwhelming deprivation of sound hung in the air like a thick fog, enveloping all that it touched. Silently, Kim wondered if she was dead, and if eternity was in fact nothing more than an utter lack of existence.
Then, from the utter void, there came a voice. It was not the voice of an angelic choir, or of long-departed loved ones calling her home, but one of a distinct familiarity, and one not to be expected in this place:
"Scheisse!"Warily, Kim opened one eye and glanced around…
She was still in Dementor's lair; still surrounded by all the consoles and equipment. Dementor was clicking the lever up and down violently, muttering something under his breath in German. Kim couldn't understand what he was saying, having opted instead to take French and Latin in school, but she felt she could venture a pretty good guess as to his meaning.
He began barking orders to the henchmen, who in turn began scurrying about like caffeinated ferrets, desperately trying to deduce what had gone wrong. They checked displays, ran diagnostic programs, and began pulling access panels from their mountings. Then, a new voice called out from the shadows that lined the perimeter of the room…
"So sorry about that… Was this do-hickey important?"
All heads in the room turned in unison to face a mysterious figure, concealed within the shadows. No distinguishing features could be seen through the gloom, but a small cylindrical device was clearly present within the stranger's hand.
"Acht!" Dementor cried out. "Ze Positronic Power Modulator!" He was clearly enraged by the prospect of a saboteur having been able to slip past his characteristically tight security.
"Who are you?" Dementor asked, his voice dropping to a low growl.
"I am your worst nightmare." the figure stated flatly, stuffing the PPM into its pack.
"You mean ze one vhere I go to ze store vithout my pants?" Dementor asked, perplexed.
"Uhhh… no."
"Ze one about ze two-headed, fire-breathing snake?"
"Nooooooo…"There was a long, thoughtful pause.
"Another Adam Sandler movie?"
"Moving on!"
"Vell, you still haven't answered my question!" Dementor pointed out, clearly becoming more and more irritated by the minute. "Who are you?!"
"Let's just call me an interested party." the figure said as it finally began to step forward from the shadows.
All eyes strained to see in the dimly lit room as the silhouette slowly emerged from the dingy darkness of the lair's recesses. Faint beams of light traced their way up the line of its legs, coming to reveal its torso and chest, and then…
The sound of two-dozen jaws hitting the floor made for a unique accent point indeed as the mystery person fully emerged from his concealment. A multitude of murmurs raced through the assembled henchmen, expressing their collective shock at the sight that beheld them, but none were more shocked than Kim.
Standing before her, no more than six feet away, was Ron.
All of her thoughts froze solid as her mind tried desperately to wrap itself around what her eyes were witnessing. His clothes weren't even wet. It could just be some sort of grief-induced hallucination, she thought, but then it was obvious from the reaction of the henchmen that they could see him too. It might be a ghost, but he seemed so real. Weren't ghosts supposed to be transparent or "floaty" in some way? She could even smell a faint whiff of his cologne, and she seriously doubted that ghosts wore aftershave.
Finally, after what must have qualified for the title of "Most awkward pause in history," Dementor broke the silence.
"Vell, vell hero thief. You are either very skilled or very lucky, no? Tell me, how did you survive zat fall?"
"Well, it's kind of a long story…" Ron began, "but I have this thing called 'Mystical Monkey Power,' and…"
"Yah, I know!" Dementor broke in. "I read ze papers, too. Get to ze point, already!"
"Okay, okay… Sheesh!" Ron retorted. "Anyway, it turns out that there's also this 'mystical floaty-thing' that's part of the package, and well… I guess I managed to tap into that on the way down."
Although it took her a moment, Kim quickly caught on to Ron's meaning. She had seen this power in action just a few months before, when she, Ron and Yori had gone to rescue Monkey Fist and Sensei from the clutches of D. N. Amy. In their harrowing plunge from the waterfall that day, Sensei had used this power to save himself from certain death.
…Now Ron had done the same.
Dementor stared ahead blankly, locked in disbelief of this claim. "You have excellent timing then, it vould seem." he stated mockingly. "How did you manage to come by zis power vhen you did?"
"Dunno…" Ron said with a nonchalant shrug. "I suppose it had something to do with the combination of adrenalin and sheer terror, but I think it was mostly because of something else entirely."
"Yah, und vots dat?" Dementor asked with mock disinterest.
"…That I still have a job to do." Ron replied with a confident grin, and with that he stole a sideways glance at Kim, and winked.
Kim stole a gasp of air and swallowed hard. That had been the key, after all… The key which had allowed him to reach deep, down within himself, and unlock the hidden strength of the Monkey Powers when he needed them most. It had been his utter and total unwillingness to leave her side, an instinct so strong, so elemental that even death itself could not silence it.
"Hmpf..." Dementor scoffed, seemingly unimpressed with Ron's newfound ability. "Und you think zat dis ability to fly will help you now?"
With that, he reached over to press a large, red button on a neighboring console and a series of pneumatic doors sprung open in the nearby walls, revealing several-dozen synthodrones, many of them armed with laser swords.
"Not really," Ron replied, paying no attention to the drones, which were quickly arranging themselves into an attack formation. "But then again, floating isn't the only mad skill that I picked-up down there."
"Really?" Dementor asked with a raised eyebrow. "Vell then, do enlighten us as to vhat else you learned."
"Enlighten you? Can-do, bucket-head!" Ron shot back.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Ron drew himself up out of his characteristic slouch to a fully erect position. He crossed his arms over his chest, and then slowly… deliberately… he began to speak.
"Through brightest day and darkest night…"A strong draft suddenly began to blow through the lair, pulling papers and other debris across the cavernous space. The murmurs of the henchmen started in earnest once more as everyone realized that these strange winds were centering on the young, blond boy standing before them, creating a miniature whirlwind around him.
"No evil shall escape my sight…"Bolts of electricity momentarily crackled along the length of his legs and torso as he raised his arms high above his head.
"Upholding truth and all that's right…"The entire room seemed to tremble with the force of a distant earthquake, and small fissures formed in the floor tiles around him.
"Behold the power, OF MONKEY MIGHT!!!"---------
…And then there was light. …A light like none before it. A light so bright that one could swear it would have outshone the noonday sun. A light so great in its intensity that it compelled all in its presence to avert their gaze, lest their retinas be forever seared by its fiery brilliance.
It may have taken several moments, but the intense light finally subsided enough so that Kim and the others could look directly at Ron once again, and when they did, they found themselves completely unprepared for the sight which confronted them.
Ron was bathed in a brilliant bluish-white glow. It was somewhat similar in color to Hego's glow, Kim thought, recalling their adventure in Chicago with the super-strong superhero and his brothers. However, where Hego's glow had drifted lazily around him like some sort of ethereal aura, Ron's glow seemed to explode from each and every pore of his body. It burned with the intensity of a blowtorch, emerging, then rolling upwards with the strength and speed of a jet engine's exhaust.
His eyes had been transformed from their usual brown into roiling orbs of brilliant blue, and bolts of electricity rolled up and down along the length of his body. Whatever power it was that he had tapped into, it was damned impressive to say the least!
He reached his right hand above his head, as if to indicate something above him, and uttered a one-word command:
"Come!"There was another flash of light, forcing the observers to look away once again. When their eyes re-adjusted, Ron was holding a beautiful Japanese katana, which he had seemingly produced from nowhere.
The weapon was the very image of simple elegance, lacking any ornamentation which it did not require for its purpose. The long, gently curving blade had a slight taper, and gleamed like a mirror in the admittedly dim light of the lair. The hilt shone brilliantly of gold, and the handle carried an intricate, hand-wrapped pattern of black and gold diamonds.
Kim had never seen the sword before, but she instinctively knew that this was the fabled Lotus Blade which Ron and Yori had both mentioned during their mission to save Sensei. It had been suggested to her that Ron was somehow linked to the blade, destined by fate to wield its tremendous magical power against the forces of evil, and his surprising ability to conjure the weapon at will seemed to mesh well with this theory.
Then, briskly, and with a confidence Kim had never seen in him before, Ron stepped forward, taking a position directly between her and the drones.
This was where he would make his stand. He would protect Kim, no matter what the cost. There would be no retreat, and no surrender. This was the showdown at the OK Corral; winner take all.
He twirled the sword about in front of him, swinging it through a graceful "figure-eight" pattern before drawing it back behind himself in a backhand grip. He assumed a fighting stance, and with his free hand, motioned for the drones to "bring it on." The was an intensity and a determination in his eyes that few people who knew him would have thought him capable of. It was the ultimate "serious face."
Two drones charged, weapons at the ready. Ron took two steps forward, then, in a blinding flash, lashed out with the Lotus Blade, whipping it across his body in a violent horizontal slash. The blow caught the lead drone squarely in the midsection, instantaneously disemboweling the synthetic being.
Continuing the motion from this initial strike, Ron brought the blade back forward, this time in an aggressive, backhand stab. The second drone never stood a chance, as it was quickly impaled upon the razor-sharp blade.
Another drone took this opportunity to launch its own attack, charging with its sword held high above its head. Switching to a forehand grip, Ron raised the Lotus Blade above his own head to deflect the blow, then, with a speed that would have impressed even a martial arts master, he lashed out with two quick strikes, carving a perfect "X" across the drone's chest.
Yet another drone now attacked from the rear, having circled around behind its opponent in the confusion of the battle. Ron flipped the Lotus Blade up over his head and behind himself to block the attack, then spun around in an aggressive 180-degree slashing motion, which severed the drone cleanly in two.
From his vantage point several yards away, Professor Dementor found it difficult to comprehend the scene unfolding before him. This, after all, was not the sidekick's usual fighting style. Far from the more familiar "dodge-and-weave" tactics he normally displayed, Ron was standing his ground, facing the attacks head on and repulsing them in turn. The monkey powers certainly did wonders in enhancing his skills, but it was this sudden burst of courage which was truly proving problematic for his forces.
There was a sickening "pop" as the last drone of the first wave fell to the floor. Ron had thrown a punch with his left hand, which had penetrated the drone's chest, and exited through its back.
More than two-dozen drones still surrounded him, roughly arranged in a semi-circle just a few yards away. He pulled back into a crouch, drawing the enchanted blade up behind him into a stance that resembled a major-league hitter, digging in at the plate. The intensity of the battle to this point had left him drenched in syntho-goo, and a large glop of the greenish-gel slowly dripped down the length of the blade, running across his hands, then dropping to the floor.
The drones seemed to momentarily regard the young man before them, now bathed in the synthetic blood of their comrades. Their unblinking, monochromatic gazes returned only with the identical gaze of their opponent. Then, something happened which had never happened before; something which should not be possible from synthetic beings, devoid of human emotion.
…One of the drones took a step back.
"No!" Ron growled, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. "There is no escape!"
With that remark, he raised his weapon high above his head, and with a scream that would have curdled the blood of even the most battle-hardened warrior, he thrust the blade deep into the floor before him.
The impact unleashed a brilliant shockwave, sweeping outward in all directions, cracking and buckling the concrete floor as it went. The formation of synthodrones disintegrated under this onslaught, its members being crushed and torn asunder at once. Several of their number were pitched against a nearby wall where they exploded like bugs on a giant windshield.
Henchmen dove for cover as the wave continued unabated, rolling across the room, overloading circuits and blowing out consoles. The large storage tanks cracked, then shattered, disgorging their eerie-green contents throughout the lower reaches of the lair. The gigantic device in the center of the room was torn free from its mounting blocks, and crashed to the floor, arcing and spewing sparks as it went.
By the time the wave finally dissipated along the far wall of the complex, the destruction was complete, and for the first time during the entire ordeal, Dementor was left speechless. His grandiose plan, the scheme which he had spent so long and worked so hard in brining to this point, was now little more than a smoldering ruin. He had been mere moments away from success, only to crash and burn on approach, and the words simply did not exist to adequately describe his dismay.
For Ron, the psychological condition of the miniature megalomaniac was the farthest thing from his mind. He had matters of far greater importance to attend to.
Withdrawing the Lotus Blade from the now shattered floor, he moved quickly to where Kim still hung from the massive piece of electrical equipment. Kim cringed briefly as he raised the blade above his head once again, not certain as to what these new powers may have done to his judgment, or for that matter, his aim.
She needn't have worried, as two lightning-quick swipes severed the manacles which bound her to the device, and she slid unceremoniously to the floor. Gently rubbing her sore wrists, she regained her feet, just in time so see the blue glow in Ron's eyes replaced by the much more familiar brown, and the fiery aura which surrounded him quickly fade, then flicker, before finally winking from existence.
He took a step forward, wobbled slightly, then dropped to his knees, clutching his forehead with both hands.
"Ohhhhh, man… Brain freeze!" he moaned softly. "It's like some sort of mystical monkey hang-over or something."
In an instant, Kim was by his side, propping-up his shoulders to prevent him from collapsing to the floor completely. He knelt there, hunched over, and she noticed the pronounced heaving of his shoulders as he gasped for air. His body was completely spent, having thrown every last ounce of strength he could muster into the fight. He had left it all out on the field this night… He had done what he had felt compelled to do.
"Are… are you okay, baby?" Kim finally asked, once Ron's breathing became somewhat more regular.
"I… I think so." he stammered between still heavy breaths. "Man, that's some head rush, there."
"You're absolutely sure you're okay," Kim prodded, more for her own assurance than for Ron's, "because if you're hurt in any way…"
With that thought, Kim froze in mid-sentence, her mind racing through all that had happened over the last hour: The melee on the cliff, the fall, the climactic battle against the drones. With all that Ron had been through, it was an absolute miracle that he wasn't dismembered or dead right now.
Suddenly, Kim felt herself being overcome by a wave of emotions; fear at the prospect of having almost lost him, relief that she hadn't, and prideful joy in his accomplishment, in that he had been able to dig deep and find the inner strength he needed, just when she needed him.
Without warning, she collapsed into his arms, turning the tables by suddenly forcing Ron to support her. She sobbed uncontrollably into his shirt, thoroughly soaking the black fabric. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed so tightly that Ron feared his ribs might crack. She never wanted to let him go.
Ron responded by simply returning Kim's embrace. He buried his face in her hair and lightly kissed the top of her head. He may not have been the brightest bulb in the marquee sign, but he knew enough to keep his big mouth shut in this sitch. Kim needed this moment right now, and as always, he was more than willing to oblige her.
They stayed this way for the longest of moments, simply allowing themselves to be enraptured by each other's presence. There was something natural about it all, as if all the forces of the cosmos had willed that this moment should come to be.
The two of them were so deep in their own thoughts that they barely noticed the massive explosion, which suddenly seemed to rock the lair to its very foundations. The green liquid from the shattered storage tanks had crossed paths with live electrical wires from a smashed transformer, and the result was a firestorm. (Whatever that green stuff was, it was apparently flammable.) Sirens wailed, and sprinklers in the ceiling sprung to life, although the water they emitted did little to stem the advancing inferno. The few henchmen who had remained to this point, now fled the complex in terror.
"Uhhh, unless you have any better ideas, I'd suggest running." Ron said nervously.
"Yeah, good call." Kim replied, as the two of them began rushing for the exit, Ron grabbing Rufus from his cage as they went.
"Wait!" Ron suddenly called out, abruptly pulling up short. "What about Dementor?"
"He's a big boy, Ron! He can take care of himself!"
"Yeah, that's not what I meant… umm… uh… whatever!"
And with that he was off to the races, chasing a flowing mane of brilliant red hair.
---------
Author's Notes:
Well, here I sit, kicking back in front of the computer with a bottle of root beer and contemplating another chapter completed. I'm still amazed by everything that's happened here, as this story is quickly evolving and running into areas which I never anticipated exploring when I first laid down the outline. I believe someone once said that a story is like a living thing… There seems to be more truth to that statement than I had previously thought.
Translation time! This is for the benefit of all those whose German is a little rusty. I myself am included in this group, as my knowledge of the language is limited to what I've picked-up from watching reruns of Hogan's Heroes on Nick Nite. (Thank God for online dictionaries!)
Jawohl: This word can best be translated as meaning "Yes sir." It's often used when addressing a superior.
Achtung: Occasionally used as an exclamatory, this is the German word for "Attention."
Scheise: I can't print the literal translation of this word here without having to change the rating of the story. Needless to say, the English equivalent is a certain four-letter word, which means "manure." (Let your imaginations run wild here, folks.)
Anyhooooo, chapter six is currently under construction, and should be available for your reading pleasure in about two weeks or so. I want to personally thank everyone who has posted comments regarding this work, as the enthusiasm of the fanfiction community in this respect has helped to stir the creative juices on more than one occasion. As usual, I invite anyone who is so inclined to post a comment or suggestion. I always welcome reader input, as it assures me that I actually have readers. (I have been known to wonder, on occasion.)
Also, based on several suggestions, which I received, I've gone back to the previous chapters and replaced the spelling of "Dimentor" with "Dementor." (Don't say that I never listen to you guys!)
Until next time… Peace out, dudes!
Nutzkie…