The Wrath of Ultron
Part 3: A close-run thing
The security staff at the Spectre base were braver and more skilled than Gargunza had assumed, but numbered no more than a dozen. With thirty elite AIM troopers at his back, Deathlok pushed his way through, killing or wounding all of them for the loss of twenty of his own men. Had they been real men, he might have regretted the losses, or chosen a more careful strategy. But all AIM troopers were clones, and there were always more where they came from. He advanced to the central computer room, set his men to guard the doors, and began to hack his way into the system.
XXXXX
In an even larger room, deep underground, Nightwing watched as Cypher sat at a console.
"Can you keep him out, McGeek?" DiNozzo asked.
"Are you hot for Ziva?" Tim replied. "He's fast – his brain is mostly cybernetic – but for some reason he isn't connecting directly to the network, which makes us more even."
"Just even? You mean you're not better than him?" There was an edge of uneasiness in Tonys' voice.
"I don't have to be." Tim stated. "As soon as the perimeter alarms went off, the system started to isolate all the key databases and apps from the above ground workstations. Physically isolate them. That's why the system is all hardwired instead of wi-fi. But that takes time. All I have to do is keep him out of the key areas until the lock off is complete. After that, well, I hope he's interested in catering orders, cleaning rotas and stationery purchases, because that's all he'll be able to see!"
"Unless he makes his way down here!" Tony pointed out.
Tim shrugged. "Iron Man and Cyborg designed and built this section, Tony. They built it so tough even they couldn't break into it! I've only got preliminary scans, but I don't think this guy has the juice to do it!
"There! We're locked off. He can do what he likes, now. So, how's Tali?"
"A real handful!" Tony admitted. "As tough as her Mom and as smart as her Uncle Timmy!"
"Good to hear." Tim said. "You guys coming to Steve's barbecue Sunday?"
"Wouldn't miss it!" Tony affirmed, glancing at the screen. He froze in place. "Tim," he said slowly, "what the Hell is going on up there?"
XXXXX
The first Deathlok knew about it was the screaming. He had been ranging all over the system, trying to find a way into the important files, but they had seemingly disappeared. The system, he noted, was all hardwired, none of the machines here used, or even had, wi-fi or Bluetooth connectivity. He could even see where the necessary hardware had been removed.
All links hardwired. He thought. When we breached the perimeter, the system must have deleted everything of importance from these workstations and then mechanically disconnected them from the main servers.
Then he heard the first scream – a terrible, hopeless death-howl that caused his human brain to shrink in utter terror. There was a rattle of gunfire that rapidly died off, to be replaced by a cacophony of screams and grunts.
Deathlok rose and made his way to the outer office. It was a shambles. Across the door lay the body of the troop commander – stone dead without a mark on him and an expression of stark fear on his face. Above the body of another rose a writhing mass of electrical wires, hissing like snakes. A man had been sliced in two by a pair of desks which had slammed together as he stood between them, another had clearly been smothered by a chair which had folded in on him, the headrest curving over his head to cover his face. One man was bound across the platen of a copy machine by its cables. A blazing light flashed on and off through the hole it had burned in his torso. A massive splatter of blood and fragments showed where someone had been dragged into the suddenly-gaping maw of a shredder. Other screams, growing fainter, were those of men fleeing in abject fear.
In the centre of the room stood a lone figure. A tall, powerfully-built man in green and white. His face was thin and stern, with eyes so deep-set their colour could not be judged. Deathlok drew his pistol, a massive .50 calibre weapon based on the design of the Mars Automatic Pistol. First developed in 1900, the Mars used large, powerful cartridges and was mechanically complex, but AIMs' engineers had improved and modernised its unique long-recoil action to create a weapon worthy of cybernetically-enhanced operatives. He fired once, usually all that was needed. The tall figure did not even flinch, and the heavy round slammed through the wall behind him.
"You cannot harm me." The voice was deep and slow, and though it was clearly audible, the thin mouth did not move. "But neither can I harm you."
"Why not?" Deathlok asked.
"Because we are both already dead." Was the reply. "Your weapons are for use against the living. I am the Spectre, a spirit of vengeance. My powers are meant to kill the evil living. The Dead I cannot harm, but they must obey me and answer my questions. Put away your weapon!"
Deathlok almost complied, but then stopped himself. "You may command the dead, Spectre," he said, "but it appears that machines are beyond you. I may not be able to harm you, but you cannot prevent me from pursuing my mission!"
"He may not be able to, but I can!" A new voice, a smooth, authoritative baritone.
Another man had entered the room. A little over the middle height, slender and athletic, wearing the white coat of a doctor; dark hair, greying at the temples, a strong face decorated with a neat moustache, piercing blue eyes.
"And you are?" Deathlok asked.
"Dr Stephen Strange." The man said. "I suggest, Mr Deathlok the Demolisher, that you take yourself off back where you came from!"
Deathlok aimed his gun at Strange. "I suggest you tell me where the switches are that reconnect these terminals to the main servers. As an alternative to dying here and now."
Strange raised a hand and said. "Expelliarmus!" Deathloks' weapon flew out of his hand into Stranges', who almost dropped it. "Yikes!" He said. "That's a big, heavy gun! Did the guy who made it have a smaller than usual toolbox?"
Deathlok made to move toward Strange, but another gesture summoned seven bands of red energy from the air, which wrapped themselves around the cyborg, holding him helpless.
"All right!" Strange announced. "That's it, I'm done with you! You go back to your boss, this Gargunza, and tell him that whatever he's planning, to forget it! Things are starting to get serious, and we don't need small-time distractions like him! Go!"
The next gesture was more complex, and caused Deathlok to vanish. Strange turned to the Spectre.
"We need to find more out before we tell Tim and Tony it's OK to reconnect. You'll have to do it, Necromancy isn't anything I've studied."
"Of course, Sorceror Supreme." The Spectre replied. "The practise of Necromancy is no fit study for the living."
The Spirit of Vengeance moved to the dead man who lay in the doorway. "Speak!" He commanded. "Who sent you here and why?"
The dead mans' voice was clear, but like the Spectre, he spoke without moving his mouth.
"We serve Dr Emil Gargunza, Director of Advanced Idea Mechanics. We were sent here to acquire data on all Spectre team members and to recover any data that might have been stolen from Dr Gargunza."
"Emil Gargunza is believed dead." The Spectre stated.
"You at least know that to be untrue." Was the reply. "He is in a transformative state. He will soon emerge as MODOC, to rule mankind."
"Enough." The Spectre said. Turning to Strange, he said. "I must return to my mortal form. The others cannot know about me. Not yet, at least."
"It's OK." Strange said. "It's time they knew what's going on, but they don't need to know everything. As long as you don't mind me taking credit for your moves?"
"Why should I?" The Spectre asked.
The two proceeded to Gibbs' office, but while the Spectre simply walked through the door, Strange used his keycard to open it. As the teams' medic, he had universal access.
"You have always known I was here." The Spectre said. "But did not speak of it. Why?"
"I don't know how aware Gibbs might be of you." Strange said. "I didn't want to say the wrong thing and trigger some kind of episode. Or have him think I'm crazy! How much does he know about me?"
"He knows what I know, and what I do." The Spectre said. "But the private part of his mind is closed to me. If he chose not to speak to you of it, I do not know why."
With that, the Spectre dissolved into mist, floated over the desk and disappeared into the apparently sleeping body of Gibbs. He opened his eyes at once.
"Expelliarmus?" He said. "Doesn't that come from a kids' book?"
Strange nodded. "Percy Jackson and the Labyrinth of Secrets." He confirmed. "Got a niece who's a big fan!"
"Well, it's time we told our people that magic isn't just in books anymore!" Gibbs said.
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"You sure it's Ultron?" Captain America asked.
"Unless there's two of him." Cyborg said. "Which there very well might be!"
"OK." Steve said. "Flash, get out there and pace him, keep an eye on him but do NOT engage!
"Cyborg, Iron Man, spread out and get ready to intercept on my word. Black Widow, put the aircraft down – it's too easy a target for him. We'll stay here and let him come to us, if he can get past our two flyboys. Stay sharp, stay in touch, stay liquid!"
There was a short, tense wait, then. "Cap? This is Flash. He's sticking to the contours and he's slowed a little. He may be scoping out the situation."
"Cyborg here. I concur, he is scanning around and is likely to have spotted Iron Man and I. I also note that the space between his skeleton and shell is packed with micro-munitions and delivery systems. Alert, he is launching flares and chaff, and has accelerated toward you!"
"Hit him!" Cap barked.
Flares and chaff might as well have been waste paper for all the trouble they gave Iron Man and Cyborg. The first Ultron knew about it was being struck from one side by iron Mans' repulsor rays and from the other with Cyborgs' phased plasma beam. The vibranium shell soaked up much of the impact, but was pushed to its' limits. Ultron dropped and spun, raking Iron Man with his own plasma beam and directing his electronic warfare systems onto Cyborg. Both spun away, out of control. But Ultrons' drop and continued forward thrust had pushed him into the open.
Spider-Man tagged Ultron with two weblines and heaved. The mech was yanked forward to slam hard into the wall of the nearby bunker. He slid down, then rolled and got up, only to be smashed back hard by Spider-Man's flying kick. The two traded blows for a few seconds. Spider-Man dodged Ultrons' haymakers effortlessly, while his own punches left slight but noticeable dents in the mechs' body.
Then Ultron screamed -a piercing ultrasonic wave that knocked Spider-Man out cold. But a second later, Ultron himself was hit by something invisible that pushed him against and into the bunker wall, creating a cracked and rugged recess almost a foot deep.
As any object with mass approaches the speed of light, its' mass increases. Flash, moving faster than ever before, had been travelling at a substantial fraction of light velocity, and had struck Ultron with considerably increased mass and related momentum. The result left both staggered and disoriented, but Ultrons' remote AI recovered slightly faster, allowing him to launch a terrific blow at his attacker. Flashs' reflexes were nevertheless fast enough to allow him to evade most of the impact of the strike. But it was still enough to knock him several metres away, unconscious.
Ultron made to dash forward, but something flew through the air and attached itself to him, instantly discharging a massive voltage that caused his systems to freeze. At the same time a disc-shaped object smashed into his other side, caroming off but leaving a deep groove in the shell.
Cap had drawn his gun by instinct, but realised that his vibranium/adamantium shield would be more effective even than the heavy Desert Eagle. He dashed to recover the shield, but Ultron had managed to overload the weapon the Batman had thrown and now launched a scatter of micro-grenades. Even Cap couldn't completely avoid all of them, and the blasts threw him over and down.
The Black Widow had seen what the Batman had done, and had dashed in close as Ultron dealt with Cap. Now she applied her electric Widows' Sting weapon to Ultron in the hope of a similar effect. Instead she found herself grabbed by the throat and held off the ground.
"I do learn, you know!" Ultron told her.
Then a metal dart slammed into the arm that held her, and she dropped, breaking the fall and rolling clear to come up with guns ready. Ultrons' right arm now hung uselessly by his side.
"I learn, too." The Batman said.
"Really?" Ultron replied. "Well I self-repair. Do you?"
Another half-dozen grenades. The Batman didn't dodge. Instead he raised his cape to cover himself, at the same time sending a current though it that rendered the special fabric rigid and steel-hard. Even so, the blast knocked him down. Ultron, already flexing his damaged arm, strode to where Cap was struggling to his knees, ignoring the hail of bullets the Widow was sending at him.
"You first, Mr Traitor!" He said, and fired his beam.
But another figure dropped to the ground in front of Cap. A figure who didn't even flinch as the beam struck him full-on. Tall, muscular, clad in tight-fitting yellow and green, the face was crimson, but a golden crystal was set in the middle of his forehead. He smiled as Ultron shut off the beam.
"An interesting weapon." He remarked. "I have a rather more refined version."
The beam that came out of the crystal was also golden, but pencil-thin and it bored clean through Ultron, coming out of his back before it shut off.
"Who…the Hell…are you?" Ultrons voice was fading in and out, he was swaying where he stood.
"I am the Vision." Was the answer. "Shall we finish this, Ultron?"
Ultron looked around. Captain America and the Batman where already on their feet. Spider-Man was assisting Flash, both were clearly recovering fast. Then with a double roar, Iron Man and Cyborg, both a little battered, but neither seriously impaired, appeared on the scene, dropping down to flank the Vision.
"Not today!" He decided. "Releasing control."
The mech crumpled to the ground. Cyborg darted forward, shouting "Oh, no you don't!" while stabbing at the holographic control board that appeared out of his wrist. Then he looked over to Cap.
"I just shut off the auto-destruct. Now we can get this thing back to HQ and take it to pieces!"
"Good!" Cap said. "Widow, fire up the aircraft and let's get home!" He turned to the Vision.
"To repeat a question," he said, "who the Hell are you?"
"A short question requiring a long answer." The Vision replied. "You will have much to do when you return to Spectre, and there are matters I must attend to. I will meet you there tomorrow."
With that, he floated up from the ground, then flew off at remarkable velocity in the direction Ultron had come from.
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The Spectre teams -both of them – were more than a little weary, and while no serious injuries had been sustained, they had all collected bumps and bruises. Nevertheless, it was important to debrief as soon as possible. Succinct as the reports were, it still took over an hour before everything had been recounted.
At that point, Dr Strange, who had shed his normal suit and white coat for an outfit consisting of a blue tunic, loose blue trousers tucked into high black boots and a large golden amulet on a chain round his neck, said. "I think things will go better while we're eating!"
He made a gesture, and suddenly the table was full of sandwiches, salad, Buffalo wings, at least three types of pie, ice cream, plates of cookies, jugs of fruit juice, milk and coffee. For a while, there was little or no talk.
Finally, Cap said. "OK, Doc, is this like actual, abracadabra magic, or are you some kind of Mutant?"
"Actual magic." Strange told them. "The ability to call on extra-dimensional energies in order to cause change to occur in conformity with will. Or in other words, to manipulate probability."
"You want to run that by me again in something that sounds like English?" DiNozzo asked.
"I'll try." Strange said. "You've heard folk say that nothing is impossible, and you think it's just another cliché? Well, it's actually true! In terms of the Universe as a whole, there is no event or action that is absolutely impossible, it could happen somewhere. But there are millions of things which, though possible, are extremely improbable. Magic is the ability to increase or reduce the probability of a given thing happening. It's not impossible for this table to have food on it – it's happened before and will happen again – so in this case it only took a slight increase in probability for it to happen."
"I get that, kinda." Spider-Man said. "Some kind of quantum thing, I guess. I'll leave the math to Vic, here. But you're saying that this magic is coming back? You mean that in the past, people could do it all the time?"
"Not all people, not all the time and not to the same level. In that respect, it's just the same as technology. Almost anyone can use a tool or device, and get better at it over time. Some people have the right mindset or skillset to build or invent technology, or to use it at a much higher level. Same goes for magic -most everybody can use a charmed or enchanted object, or even cast a simple spell. But some folk are better at it and can make charmed objects and use or even invent more powerful spells."
"But somewhere down the line we either lost that ability, or it was taken from us?" Ziva guessed.
"Pretty much." Strange allowed. "I won't go into the how and why right now. But basically, the intention was for humanity as a race to master technology to a certain level, then rediscover magic and learn to use the two together. But there were some magic-users who didn't agree with that, and they hid themselves away until magic should come back. Some – too many – of them are not nice people and they have a lot of power. They want to take advantage of the return of magic and use it to dominate the world before Humans can get a proper grasp of it. That's why some of the other magical beings – the Dragons, the Guardians of Albion, the Six Proud Walkers, Merlin – are becoming active now. To find and teach people how to use magic and to help others with power defend against the Dark magicians.
"I've got some books I'll put in the lounge that'll fill in a lot. We can talk more about it when we've got time. Right now, we've got other things to worry about!
"What about Ultron?"
"He had us on the ropes." Cap admitted. "One on one, he can match or beat any of us! If the Vision hadn't shown up and given us time to regroup, he'd have taken us out piecemeal."
"It won't get easier." The Batman noted. "He learns fast, and he has a better idea of our capabilities, now."
"He's obviously some kind of AI." Cyborg said. "Which means he's either in the cloud or in a server somewhere. The mech we salvaged was being remote controlled and he may have several like it, or others even more powerful.
"It's going to take Tony S, Bruce, Peter and myself a while to deconstruct that mech and find its' weaknesses, and there's no guarantee that Ultron won't have improved the model if and when we come up against him again.
"Which means we need to locate the AI core, fast! That's probably down to Tim and Tony D."
"Fine, but you get to explain the overtime to Delilah!" McGee stated.
"What I don't get," Bruce said, "is how Ultron survived! I was there when Fate shut him down, and we found out afterwards that Savage kept him tied to that server core – his code had to be connected to that specific hardware or he'd corrupt and shut down."
"Even Savage couldn't have kept an eye on everything." Tim said. "I'd guess that at some point Ultron had some of Hidalgos' people build another core somewhere else and downloaded a copy of himself into it."
"Right, that makes sense!" Bruce allowed. "He probably meant to update the copy regularly, but stopped doing it after Fate took him over. That's why he called you a traitor, Steve. For all he knew it was still Mike Moran behind that mask, and Moran had worked for Savage."
"That also means," Tim put in, "that if he's been trying to hack our systems, he hasn't succeeded. Yet."
"Between Jarvis and you, Cypher, he's unlikely to." Iron Man pointed out. "Also, there's a good chance Fate is out there somewhere, as well. Who wrote Fate, and why, we've never been able to find out, but she's no friend of Ultron!"
"OK," Gibbs said, "but if we're all chasing Ultron, what do we do about Gargunza and AIM?"
"Not much we can do but keep our eyes peeled, right now!" Cap admitted. "Ultron is the immediate problem.
"On the other hand, we could hire Fury and his people to look into it. Blackhawks' intel unit is pretty good, the guy who runs it - Finch is his name – is a real pro. We've got all that funding, we might as well put it to use!"
Gibbs nodded. "Good idea – Gargunza will be expecting us, not an independent operator. I'll hook them up with Excalibur. Mike Moran runs that team and he knows more about Gargunzas' motives and style than anyone alive."
"Which just leaves us two questions." Ziva said. "Who is the Vision and what does he want? And how do we make best use of our tame magician?"
"The Doc's on the Strike Team, at least for now." Cap said firmly. "When we go up against Ultron again, we're gonna need something he isn't expecting and has no defence against. If the way the Doc handled those AIM guys is anything to go by, magic should fit the bill!
"As for the Vision, he said he'd come to us, and I get the feeling he's a man of his word. We'll handle it when it happens."
"In the meantime, get some rest." Gibbs said. "That's an order!"
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Frustration was something Ultron was unaccustomed to. But then flying around in a mobile, weaponised platform was a new experience as well. It seemed there was more to handling a body than simple control. He was missing an entire set of reflexes, instincts and perceptions that evolution had built into natural bodies. Things which machine knowledge, speed and raw power could not substitute for.
"OK, ok!" He was muttering to himself. "So the Iron Man and the Cyborg are tougher than I thought. The Iron Man suit is more advanced than I gave it credit for, and the Cyborgs' machine parts don't come from Earth! The Spider-Kid isn't a kid any more, and he's a lot stronger than the reports show him being. Maybe he pulls his punches with humans? The Bat has some serious tech and knows how to use it. Captain America? Not Mike Moran – those weren't Morans' moves. As for the speedster, I don't even know what his limits are!
"But I was still in it, until the Vision turned up. Who is he? What is he? He's synthetic and he's got a lot of power – that's all I was able to scan about him. Nothing in any databases I can get into. Still too many databases I can't get into!
"Face it, Ultron, you have to try and dive into the blank zone again. I need to know what happened to the original me! Maybe then I'll find out why I can't do what I used to do!
"Also, I need another mobile platform. A better one."
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Deathloks' report had been, on the surface, a disturbing one. But Emil Gargunza had been around too long to take it at face value. He knew there was no such thing as magic, and the idea of Spirits of Vengeance belonged in ghost stories.
But it had proved his suspicions. The being calling itself the Spectre had to be a product of Qys technology, which meant that somebody had access to the Qys data! Who?
The Blackhawks had taken it from the computers in Hidalgo, despite the fact that Ultron had been ordered to erase it all. AIM had been his back-up plan, but the Qys data had been kept on discs only he had access to, and not placed into the AIM computers until he was sure they were secure. He assumed the Blackhawks would have sold it to the highest bidder, which meant either LexCorp or Stark-Wayne. But neither had made any announcements of new developments that might be based on that data. Designer bodies might have been too much, but surely they could not have resisted marketing the ability to construct healthy, rejection-proof and affordable replacement hearts, kidneys and livers! Which must mean that the government had intervened, with their unending demands for military applications and quests for better ways to control the people.
It was concerning to a degree, but Gargunza was confident that in terms of understanding and using the Qys techniques, he was still far in the lead.
As to Strange, the man was clearly no more than an extremely powerful Mentalist Mutant. There were ways of dealing with Mutants.
At the moment, however, Gargunza was more concerned with his own development. The larger synthetic brain that now housed his intellect was performing to expectations, allowing him to remember more and to process information far more quickly than ever before, without the restrictions and vulnerabilities of electronic hardware. But as it stood, the wetware was confined to this tank, viewing everything remotely, immobile and unable to physically interact. That had to change, if Gargunza wanted to complete his plans, he needed to get into the field, and the lab, himself. It was time to begin.
"Attention!" He announced. "Initiating Intermediary Stage. Phase One commencing now!"
The wires that connected his brain to the external systems withdrew. This was the most dangerous phase. For a while, Gargunza would be deaf, blind, dumb and helpless, relying on pre-programmed software to complete the process. None of the AIM technicians and scientists observing the procedure could be permitted to intervene – he could not trust them. Only Deathlok could access the system, and was pre-programmed to initiate the back-up should anything go wrong.
The tubes supplying the fluid to the tank shut off and withdrew. Now self-contained, the cylinder slid smoothly down through the floor until it locked into position above a larger tank, filled with a pink-white, pulsing protoplasm. The base of the cylinder irised open and the fluid flowed out into channels made to receive it. The brain slowly sank until it rested on the protoplasm, which immediately sucked it in as Phase Two began.
Gargunza had learned the secret of this substance from the Qys. It was the base material from which the Qys created their copies of other beings. On contact with the brain, it analysed and copied the DNA, accreting around it to form the missing parts of the body, As it did so it left behind a watery residue in which a complete body now floated. The head, proportioned to match the brain, was massive, but had the distinctive high forehead, overlarge nose and sensual mouth of Emil Gargunza. The body that hung beneath it, however, was physically perfect, but not on the same scale. It was normal human-sized and without the support of the liquid it floated in, the weight of the monstrous head would have broken its neck. Gargunza had found that he could not create a body from his own DNA of sufficient size without it suffering the physical effects of gigantism or acromegaly.
Phase Three started with mechanical arms fitted to the inside of the tank taking hold of the head and body and supporting them while the fluid was pumped out. The body was then lowered to the bottom of the tank, where it was carefully laid in a specially-moulded wire cradle. Around this cradle was a forest of mechanical arms and tools, which immediately went to work, clothing the body in a bronze-coloured exoskeleton with a high collar that covered most of the back of the head. Inside this collar were a series of micro-plugs which connected wirelessly through the hair, skin and skull to the tiny transceivers implanted in the brain. At the same time, the natural eyes were removed and replaced by bionic ones that gave a far wider range of vision and were connected to the improved visual cortex of the synthetic brain. A thick golden band was put around the forehead, and a large red crystal was fixed into it, with a probe that connected directly to the enhanced frontal lobe.
Finally, the entire exoskeleton was built into a chair-like structure powered by an Arc Reactor. All connections were tested, and the system was powered up. The cradle fell away, and the walls of the tank sank into the floor. The chair hovered. Then the great eyes opened- solid white and glowing softly. The red crystal began to pulse, the chair floated forward and the wide mouth curved into a smile.
"Now the true work can begin!" The enhanced voice filled the room. "I was Emil Gargunza. I remain Emil Gargunza. But henceforth, I will be known as MODOC – Mental Organism Destined Only to Conquer!"