Day 6 (Actually Day 5 - part 2 - before the date

Gary fled back to his guard shack, locked the door, lowered the blinds and turned out the light. He sat in the darkness trying not to think. Trying not to think about how he had killed Hank and Dean once before, maybe ever two or three times before and yet there they were palling around with him (at times). Certainly not aware that they had died. Or than an earlier version of them had died. Were these soulless monsters, like zombies? Or did souls ever exist? How would God deal with this in the afterlife. Gary wasn't especially religious, though he did believe that God existed. He just wasn't sure whether God was a super-scientist or a super-villain.

He wasn't sure how he was going to get Dean to drop the tell-all book idea since neither Hank or Dean ever listened to reason or the opinion of others. If it were that simple Doctor Venture could have told them to drop it and that would be the end of it.

He tried to clean his mind of all thinking, do that zen thing, but it wasn't working. All he just kept thinking about was Dean, a skeletal Dean pecking away at that typewriter, a dead man writing his memoirs.

And they weren't really his memoirs. Most of that stuff happened to some other Dean Venture, lots of Dean Ventures, none of whom survived except as electronic data pump into the latest clone's empty mind.

Maybe that explains the boys goofiness? They've had sixteen years of experience pumped into their brains but they haven't actually lived any of it. They hadn't absorbed any of the lessons-learned from their earlier life because it was never their life. It was like training for combat. One repeats the same moves over and move until they can be done without any thought. What was called 'muscle memory.' They hadn't trained at life. It was all theoretical to them. Which meant, he supposed that the longer these clones stayed alive the more like normal people they'll become.

He wondered if Dr. Venture had ever thought of any of this?

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Gary?" Triana called through the partition.

He tried to ignore her knocking figuring she's soon give up and go away.

She didn't.

Reluctantly he got up and unlocked the door. "Yeah?"

"Wow," Triana said as she looked into the darkened room. "Is this, like, your Man-Cave?"

"I was going more for a Fortress of Sulkitutde."

"You need a cat or a giant teddy bear. You can't do a sulk without a proper pet!" Triana laughed. "Look, she said, turning serious, "you ran out of the residence so fast, like you'd seen a ghost, and not your dead friend's ghost, either. I thought I ought to look and see if you're OK.

"It's nothing."

"Anyway you didn't stay to read the first chapter of Dean's book. It's great. It's the best idea you ever had. Dean has been writing like crazy. He's just incredible excited about the whole idea."

"He's been bugging the hell out of his dad." Gary added.

"But that's good. He needs to clear up a lot of questions about his life," Triana said. "He doesn't know anything about his mother. Nothing about his grandfather, Dr. Jonas Venture, senior. There are so many questions and the more answers he has about them the better he'll be."

"You think."

"Of course, why not?"

Gary just shrugged. He didn't trust himself to say anything that might reveal secret information.

"Anyway, I brought a copy of his first chapter. You ought to read it, it's great."

"I'm not much into reading." Gary lied.

"Here, I'll read it to you." And Triana sat on the arm of Gary recliner. He was acutely conscious of the warmth from her hip pressing against his shoulder, and a faint smell of sandalwood. It made him too aware that he hadn't seen Kim in a couple days. Not since that Russian woman had answered the phone. He vowed to call her right after he got rid of Triana. And he would insist on a real date this time. Not another quick roll in the hay.

" 'The City on the Hill'," Triana began.

" 'My earliest memory is of looking through a window, a tall curved window that looked over over a fairyland of shining towers and strange machinery. A vast city of soaring glass buildings housing millions and reflected from every tower was my image. I seemed to be everywhere. Tall and majestic. Strange sounds - hummings and pings, creaks and groans assaulted my ears. Who is this person I wondered who was so exalted that his image was everywhere? I knew them I was destined for greatness. The reality has been somewhat less than that.

" 'I remember closing my eyes to sleep again and as I did all the other Dean Ventures closed their eyes as well.'

"Isn't that just great? Triana asked. "I didn't know he could be such a good writer. This book is going to be a blockbuster." She paused.

Gary had gone white and whiter. The phrase "he knows" pounded in his head with each beat of his heart, like a death knell. This was worse than he had imagined. Dean doesn't have to ask any questions all he has to do was look into his own memories, the real ones, not the implanted ones and he'd know he wasn't dreaming. He was looking out from inside his cloning tank. It would all be just a matter of time.

"Gary, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

"You're white as a sheet.

"I can't tell you."

"Of course you can. You can tell me anything. Nothing shocks me anymore. Don't you remember I'm a Sorceress now. I knew secrets of the universe that would curdle your blood." She smiled down at him and bumped his shoulder good naturedly.

"I thought you were like only in your first semester of magic school. I bet at this point they haven't entrusted you with any secrets, they probably haven't even given you the keys to the restroom." Gary tried to make it sound like a joke.

"Try me," Triana huffed.

Gary considered testing her. How would she react if he said he was gay, or a cannibal, or even a necrophile? Not that any of that was true. Would that shocker her? Probably not. It was hard to shock anyone these days. Gary remembered a story he'd read, one of Dashiell Hammett's where at the end of the story the villain whispers into the detective's eye the "vilest word in the English language". He'd spent a week wondering what that word was. Was there any word so vile that it couldn't be used by people today?

"Really, I can't tell you, it's a secret." he said.

"Is it about the boys?"

"Triana, did you ever hear that line from the movies, 'I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you'? Don't ask! Don't guess!"

"Because you'd kill me? Gary, that's crazy!"

"Not only would I have to kill you but I'd probably be forced to dig my own grave before they killed me."

"That's insane!"

"He can't write that book," Gary blurted.

"I knew it! Dr. Venture's behind it!" Triana said, getting angry. Gary was willing to leave her with that misconception. "Well, if you've got to stop him from writing the book," she said, "you'd better come up something more interesting to do because I don't think anything else is going to stop him."

"Any idea what I could do to distract him?"

"Don't ask me, Sparky," Triana replied sourly. "You're the one who doesn't want Dean to write his book. I don't dare make any suggestions in case I accidentally learn something and you have to accidentally do away with me. I am, by the way, leaving a note for my father blaming you if anything happens to me. I don't like threats Gary and I don't like 'running to daddy' but if you're going to make boring threats, then so am I."

She grabbed up the pages and headed for the door. As she reached for the knob there was a loud thud, like the sound of a hammer on wooden floor followed a second later with a loud, sharp crack, like a bolt of lightning going right overhead.

"What the hell was that!" she cried. Gary had already leaped from the recliner and run to the window, pulling the Venetian blinds down so he could see out. A cloud of dust was rising from the side of the Venture building. Behind was a man-sized hole in the brick. Triana was suddenly beside him, peering out. She was about to say something when there was another boom-crack. Bricks lifted from the wall at another spot and rained on the ground below.

Gary didn't bother to answer. From a closet he took out a belt and holster, checked the clip in the gun then throw a rifle over his shoulder. "Stay put," he told Triana and raced towards the complex.

He race low and fast, changing direction every few seconds to throw the shooter off. He was about half way across the yard when there was a sharp crack so loud and so close he thought like he had felt the breeze as well. He threw himself to the ground and tried to think small, green thoughts.

"What was that?" Triana called from just behind him.

"What part of 'stay put' don't you understand!"

"I thought I could help."

"You could help best by not getting killed."

Another crack flashed overhead. This time Gary was sure he'd felt the breeze from whatever was being fired at them. He looked around for cover and couldn't find any. The shooter, so far, had not been able to depress their weapon enough to pick them off, but unless they moved it would only be a matter of time before he got their range. "You got anything in that magical bag of tricks that'll make us look like a low green hump of grass?" he called to Triana. "Or better yet, an illusion of us running one way while we can run the other way?"

"I can make a fireball," Triana said uncertainly.

"That might work. Can you project it over that way, near that tall pine outside the compound?"

"I - uh -" she hesitated, then in a more certain voice she said, "Yes, yes, I can."

"Let me know when it's about to go off."

"You'll have about half a second after "vectus" - that completes the spell." Triana said. She began chanting in some unknown tongue.

While she was chanting Gary was scanning the hills outside the compound where the shoot must be. There was another boom-crack but no flash of powder or trailing smoke. That was odd. Also, the shooter seemed able to make three shots at about ten seconds intervals then had to wait a minute or more before making another three shots. That was an odd sort of weapon, he thought. When Triana came to 'Vectus' he closed his quickly. A moment later a surprisingly large wave of heat washed over his face. He jumped up, grabbed Triana and started running towards the entrance of the main building. He was all but throwing Triana through the door before him when the frame exploded in his face. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best as he dived the last few feet into the building. His ears were still ringing from the first explosion when a second strike went through the doorway and exploded against the far wall behind a receptionist's desk. He didn't hear it explode.

"What are you doing here," Dr. Venture complained. He was cowering behind a large chair in the lobby. "The shooter's out there, not in here."

"I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'll be alright once you get that shooter."

"Where are the boys?"

"Safe in the panic room."

Another bullet smashed into the lobby. Everyone ducked behind something. "Damn it!" complained Dr. Venture, "my home owner's insurance does not cover attacks by super-villains. How am I going to fix all this up?"

"Hi pops!" Hank did a barrel roll into the lobby and crab-walked to the chair his father and Gary were sharing. "What's up?"

"Why aren't in the panic room with your brother?" Dr. Venture angrily asked.

"I wanted to help."

"You'll help by not getting killed. So move your fanny into the panic room right now!" They all ducked as another round came crashing through the door. "If anybody is getting killed today, he is," Dr. Venture waved towards Gary. "That's his job."

"Hi, Gary. What's up?" Hank said, not moving from where he was crouched next to Triana.

"Someone seems to be firing on us with an RPG."

"What?" Triana asked.

"Rocket-propelled grenades." Hank explained. "They're cool. It's kind of like a bazooka, only smaller."

"It's not an RPG. There would be a larger explosion," Dr. Venture said. "And there wouldn't be that characteristic secondary crack when the bullet arrives. That's a railgun."

Triana looked to Hank for an explaination, but he only shrugged and looked to Gary, who was as mystified as the other.

"Oh, for Pete's sake. Don't you people keep up with high-energy physics?" Dr. Venture whined. "A railgun uses electrostatic propulsion to boost a payload to speeds of 1 or 2 miles per second. That's two to four times faster than the muzzle velocity of a bullet. What looks like explosions are simply small weights hitting with incredible kinetic force."

"So why's it called a railgun." Triana asked.

"Because it takes a railroad to haul it around?" Hank wondered.

"No, because the electrostatic force runs down a pair of steel rails pushing the payload in front of it. The rails are probably only six or eight feet long. It's fairly portable except for the capacitors, which are probably the size of mail pails."

"Capacitors! That's why there's such a slow rate of fire." Gary said. "It takes ten or twenty seconds to recharge the capacitors. But why not use a regular gun, that would have a higher rate of fire?"

"Regular bullets would have almost no momentum left at this distance," Dr. Venture explained. "Geeze, didn't any of you people ever go to school? Hank, you of all people ought to know this stuff. It was covered in your sleep bed last year!"

"GED after the Monarch kidnapped me. I don't think High Energy Physics was on the test," Gary answered, irritated by Dr. Venture's superior attitude. "Still the shooter can't fire rapidly I think the quickest route would be to take that armored personal carrier you've got in your garage and make a frontal run at him."

"Are you nuts?" Dr. Venture snapped. "The projectiles would got through that APC like it was cardboard. We're talking two mile per second bullets. Besides it would fifty gallons of diesel to get out there and - uh - heh-heh - I don't have any."

There was the sound of someone slapping their forehead. Gary was thankful it was Triana and not him, although he shared her feelings.

"For someone trying to kill us it doesn't seem like a very effective means of doing it." Gary observed.

"Maybe they're waiting for us to get outside and moon them defiantly, like in Braveheart." Hank suggested.

"Hank! No one is going outside to moon anybody!" his father told him. "Didn't I tell you to go to the Panic room?"

His words were drowned out by another crash of a hyper-kinetic smashing against the side of the building.

"If I had some idea where the shooter was sitting I could go out the back of the building, run around the outside of the fence and come up behind him - or her" - Gary was remembering that whoever had attacked them earlier had been a woman. And this was probably the same person.

"That's a two mile run! It'll take you forever to get there." Triana protested.

"Really, 21. I'm in better shape than you are and I can't run a block," Dr. Venture added.

"This is not flab!" Gary protested, slapping his stomach. "I've done a lot of working out this past year. I can make that run in ten or twelve minutes. I just need you guys to give me some covering fire to keep the shooter focused on the front here while I'm slipping out the back." He unslung the rifle from his shoulder and looked at who to give it to. His eyes flicked from Dr. Venture to Hank to Triana and back. Triana was vigorously shaking her head. Dr. Venture was holding out his hand for the gun but Gary handed it to Hank.

"Hank? Hank couldn't hit the side of a barn."

"I can to, Pop!"

"He passed all the entrance requirements for SPHINX, except for age. That right there says he's a better shot than you, Dr. Venture."

"But, I'm Rusty, Boy adventure. I've been shooting guns all my life!"

"You never hit anything in those shows. Dr. V."

"Fine, be that way," Dr. Venture said petulantly. "But Hank, if you get killed I'll never talk to you again!"

With a brave smile to Triana, Gary took off to the far end of the main building.

He was huffing a bit more than he expected by the time he reached the rear of the building. It had been longer than he realized since he'd done a full five mile run. He could still hear the boom-crack of the attack from the front.

Gary took off his shirt and wadded it up in his hands before taking a running start at the chain link fence surrounding the compound. There were strands of bard wire across the top. He grabbed these through his shirt, pulling himself up and flipping over the top. He was even able to pull his shirt with him as his landed on his feet. Because it was black, he put it back on. It would work as camouflage.

Gary headed east first, working his way into the woods surrounding the compound before turning north and closing in on the shooter at the front. He had to detour an extra quarter-mile before finding a place to cross the highway that passed in front of the compound where the shooter couldn't see him.

Going up into the hills was slower now as he tried to run without making any noise. As he drew closer to where he imagined the shooter had to be located he could tell that the crack came before the boom. It was a sonic boom created as the railgun accelerated its payload to speeds greater than that of sound. The boom was the sound of the payload impacting on the Venture building..

Gary paused to tear a couple small branches from a tree and wove them together to make a leafy cap. More camouflage.

He started creeping through the brush,ever vigilant for the shooter. The sound of a car running at high speed told him he was near.

He spotted the car first. An over-sized alternator was mounted in the hood and cables ran back from it over a small crest. Peering over the top he could see the railgun and beside it several open boxes filled with blue cylinders the size of loaves of bread. Heavy wires ran from posts at the tops of the cylinders to a board where they merged into one heavy cable of woven copper that lead to the railgun.

The gun was mounted on a tripod with heavy - and insulted - handgrips at the end. A spotting score was mounted near the grips, away from the pair of copper pipes that formed the rails. The shooter was adjusting the sights as Gary peer over the crest. She - it was definitely a woman - was dressed in a tight fitting one-piece suit. A stocking cap was pulled down over her face. Both cap and catsuit were colored a mottled green-gray-brown. He could hear the faint pac-pac as Hank fired his rifle. The distance was so great that Gary doubted that the bullets were any danger but it still worried him that he was about to jump into life fire.

It didn't occur to Gary at the moment that he was carrying a loaded pistol and was well with his rights as an OSI operative to shot the attacker where she squatted. Maybe it was because she was a woman. Maybe it was because she had a really nice ass, but mostly it was because it would involved shooting her in the back and even when he was a henchman for the Monarch he didn't like doing that.

There was a loud crack. A portion of the lower region of the gun had disappeared. Swiftly the shooter pulled a couple levers back and reaching into a bag at her feet picked up a metal ball about two inches in diameter. She fitted this on the machine, then watched as a panel of twelve lights slowly turned from red to green.

Gary leaped on the shooter with a scream. The sudden shout didn't faze the shooter like Gary had hoped. She was bowled over by the impact but quickly rolled free. Her foot came up in a swing that Gary blocked with his arm. He tried to grab the foot but she pulled away too quickly.

He leaped off the ground and grabbed at her arm but the leafy hat he'd made for camouflage obscured his vision enough that he missed. She swung her hips around and butted him aside. As he rolled on the ground again she sprinted for the car, Gary was up and right behind her. The shooter was a fast son of a bitch but Gary had stronger legs so when they went down the decline to where the car was hidden Gary made a flying tangle around her waist. They down in a pile, rolling across the ground for a bit. She came up with a stone and smacked him in the head. Lights exploded in his head for an instant and he went down.

The sound of the car's hood closing with a thunk brought Gary back to his feet. He charged after the car, reaching through the still open car door to grab at the shooter. The car roared forward with a rattle of flung gravel and Gary found himself rolling on the ground again as the car speed away, holding the ski mask in his hand. He could see long brunette hair whipping in the breeze as she tore across open ground and onto the freeway but her face was turned away. Just before the car disappeared a gun was stuck out the open passenger window. A bulky grenade was mounted on the muzzle. It was pointed in his direction. Gary dived for cover as the gun fired. A moment later there was an explosion somewhere behind him. Gary peered from around his cover. Smoke was rising from just over the crest. She had shot to destroy the railgun. Gary wasn't sure what evidence could have been gleaned from it but the shooter wasn't leaving anything to chance.

Gary called in an all-clear then walked back to the compound. He was surprised at the extent of damage the shooter had done to the building. He wondered who the woman was who had such a hatred of the Ventures. Probably some woman Dr. Venture had propositioned one too many times. There had been no sign of villains 'colors' around so it didn't seem like an Guild authorized operation. Not that it stopped anyone from taking shots at the Ventures if they didn't like them.

With the threat ended Dr. Venture announced that he was taking a nap - to relieve his stress. Triana, looking around at the damages 'heard her father calling,' and like that was gone. Hank sighed. "I'll get the broom."

They knocked off the clean-up around 1 PM. There was still a lot to be done but Gary declared it was time for lunch and leaving Hank to find his own meal Gary went back to his Guard Shack. The blinds were all still down so the room was dim and cool. After the excitement of the morning this seemed nice. Gary washed his face a little, not realizing until he did so how dirty he'd gotten fighting that shooter. He logged a report about it, sent it to OSI headquarters then looked through the database for information on the Blackhearts.

The Blackhearts were an elite all-women assassination squad organized by Molotov Cocktease after the break-up of the Soviet Union. It was thought she did so because her former paymaster in the KGB had lost his position. Cocktease was presumed dead on the word of Brock Samson. Gary looked at the date of Samson's report and was surprised to see that it was dated the same day as the Venture Boys' Prom party. The day he had quit the Monarch. What didn't happen that night, Gary wondered.

It was thought that all the Blackhearts had been killed in an attempt to wipe out the Ventures. The women assassins had posed as escorts for the adults at the party only to suffer some hideous transformation into giant bug creatures and had been slaughtered by the likes of Brock, Shore-Leave, Henchman 21 (retired) - Gary was surprised to see him listed there since he didn't recall taking part in the mop of the bugs. -Dr. Orpheus, The Alchemist and Jefferson Twilight. Gary noted that he wouldn't have wanted to go up against that assembly of bad-assery.

It was thought that if there were any remaining Blackhearts they had scattered following the death of their leader.

The shooter was definitely a Blackheart. The spike high heels were a trademark of the group as were the black jumpsuits and red hearts over their left nipple. His earlier report was noted.

"What a way to go! Not like getting blown up by a bomb."

Gary turned to see 24 glowing faintly in the dark. "What do you mean?"

"If you're going to get killed I think I'd like to be killed but some hot chick. Kind of like auto-asphyxiation. You're dying and getting off at the same time. What a rush."

"You're nuts. There's nothing erotic about dying."

"Tell me about it. By the way you never did find out who killed me." 24 seemed to glare at his old friend.

"I tried. I interrogated the boys under torture, I interrogated myself..."

"You dripped water on them. You call that torture?"

"It was the Chinese Water Torture - I thought it worked." Gary ended sadly.

"What about the others on your list - Dr. Venture, the Moppets, some guy in the shadows?, the Monarch! You gave up after one try."

"I'm sorry. Besides I kind of came to the conclusion that I was as much responsible as anybody for your death. If I had helped you unfasten that seat belt you'd be alive today."

"Or we'd both have been caught in the explosion." 24 reminded him.

"Besides, I can hardly investigate your death anymore. I'm not in the Cocoon, I don't work for the Monarch. He's not going to let me poke around for no good reason."

"Appeal to the Guild. They can make you a special investigator, give you a pass so you can come and go. It would be legal and the Monarch couldn't do anything about it because you're representing the Guild.

"All right, all right. I'll do it. It's not like I don't have a million other things on my plate. What's one more. Hey, if I find out who kill you does that you stop haunting me?"

"I don't know. There's no manual for being a ghost. Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No! No! Though not having invisible friends to talk to might be a healthy thing..."

"I can take a hint" 24 declared and disappeared.

Gary shook his head then wrote out on a slip of paper "Find 24's killer."

"I have a name!" 24 was back.

"You do?" Gary was surprised by the thought, then embarrassed by the thought because, of course 24 had a name, just like he had a name, even when he was Henchman 21. "You never told me."

"Sure I did, maybe a dozen times. You just weren't listening."

"Well, I'm listening now."

"It's Bernard. Bernard Schmitt. Now that I'm not longer a henchman I think I'd like to be called by my name."

"OK, Bernard. Or can I call you Bernie?"

"I hate Bernie!" The ghost of 24 complained.

"Right, Bernard."

"Now were you going to make a call to your girlfriend?"

"I thought you couldn't read minds.

"Who's reading minds? You were talking about it just before I appeared."

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't." But 24 - Bernard - was already gone. Still - he had meant to call.

Kim had just snuck back into the convent of Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrows and stashed her camo coveralls. She was miffed at losing the railgun. She had worked a long time to steal it out of the Blackheart's advanced weapons locker. It hadn't worked quite a well as she'd like but it was pretty fun watching it chew up parts of the Venture Industries headquarters. She was beginning to realize that the rumors among the villainous grapevine that the Ventures were hard to kill was true. They were a painfully incompetent group but had some kind of insane luck protecting them from their own worst failings.

The security guy was damn good, though, to have circled around behind her like that. Clearly if she was ever going to get to Hank Venture she was going to have to get him out of the way first. She was already working on a plan for that when when the phone in the hall rang.

She debated answering it. She really wanted to wash the dirt and twigs out of her hair before any one noticed it. It was the phone she has given the number to Gary's, but it was too early for Gary to call. Then again he hadn't called in a few days and that had begun to worry Kim. She kind of missed the big lunk.

Just in case it was Gary she race out into the hall and picked up the phone.

"Kim!" Gary said on hearing her voice. "I'm so glad I got hold you you. The last time I called some old Russian woman answered.

Molotov! That explains why he hadn't called. "To-night, 9 ish, the same place."

"No, wait, Kim!" he started explaining that he wanted to have a proper date. Kim, for her part, was nervous about staying out in the hall so long on the phone. Someone could notice and the trainees weren't supposed to use the phone. But the longer Gary talked the stranger Kim felt. When Gary stumblingly said he loved her Kim felt a chill run down her spine. Lots of guys had said they loved her when all they really meant was they wanted to bed her. In fact she couldn't really recall any guy ever saying he loved her before who had meant it. But Gary... The guy just didn't have it in him to lie. And the way he stammered said this was something difficult for him to say. The idea of having someone actually in love with her frightened Kim. She didn't know how to handle it. But, too, the idea of forgetting the Ventures for an evening, just doing the ordinary things she hadn't done in a couple years. Just being with a guy who could make her laugh.

"I'd like that," she answered quietly and hung up.

Dinner and a movie, she thought as she grabbed a towel and headed for the showers. What an unexpected way to end the day.