Post by jackalope on Apr 2, 2012 10:01:47 GMT -5
Ultimate S.H.A.D.E. #17
New Years Evolution 2012
New Years Evolution 2012
New Years Eve,
Greenwich Village
The door slides open, the smell of incense and herbs mingles in the air around the small Indian man that walks in. He draw it in to his nostrils and looks about, the wooden floors, the cluttered collection of small unique items on the surrounding shelves, the dim lighting illuminated the round table the sat in the centre of the room. Father Time smiles as he spots her, leaning back, legs crossed. Her honeyed voice spoke.
“Hello Father Time.” She picks up a pot and pours it into a cup. “I made tea.”
“So you have, Madame Xanadu.” He walks over and sits down, hanging his umbrella on the back of the chair. He rubs his beard. “Do you mind if I smoke?” She points to the ashtray. “One step ahead as always. Thanks for staying open so late.” Pulling the pipe from his jacket pocket, he tapped it, making sure it was clear.
The raven haired beauty pushes his cup over, then gently picks up her own. Her crimson lips purse and she blows on her tea. He gazes over her admiring her lovely European features. Packing his pipe, he points to her. “You never seem to change.”
Sipping, she smiles. “Why Time, you never seem to stay the same.” He shakes his head and takes a puff. She places the cups back on the table and picks up her tarot deck. “Shall we get to business?” Shuffling them she holds the pack in front of her. “What do you want today? Past? Present? Future?”
“The whole package,” he says, puffing. He mutters, “S.H.A.D.E... no, I need all the help I can get.”
She nods. “Well let's see what we can do. Past.” She places three cards out, face down. “The first...” She flips it. “The Tower; Uncomfortable experience, Revelation, Explosive change.”
The Tower
Russian S.H.A.D.E. base, 54 days previous.
Kirk Langstrom sits down. Warily he sips the coffee, and watches the old woman as she breaks off a bit of cake with her fork and tastes it. She smiles, reminding him for a moment of the old lady who had lived across the road from him when he was a child, the woman all the kids had whispered was a witch. Suddenly she cackles, giving him a shock. He dabs the spilt coffee on the table with a napkin.
Baba Yaga raises her eyebrow. “What if she was a witch eh? I mean what is a witch apart from an old lady that scares children?” She points to the cake. “Do you want some?”
Her expression almost unnerves him more than the fact she seemed to be able to read his mind. Tapping the fingers on the table nervously, he shakes his head. Trying to change the subject he clears his throat. “You said something about a leak?”
“Yes I did, didn't I?” She widens her eyes as she stabs at her food. “Who do you think it is?”
Kirk scratched his head. “I don't know... I hadn't really thought...”
She frowns. “Come now, you are a smart man Dr Langstrom. Use that brilliant mind of yours.” She takes the bowl of sugar cubes and starts to stack them as she waits.
He looks about the cafeteria, which was more of a cafe than anything else. Baba had obviously cleared the place, either actively or just by her mere presence. It was likely there were a million listening devices around. S.H.A.D.E. was an organisation that put the para in paranoid. He sighs. What did it matter? She leans forward.
He shrugs. “Really, it could be anyone. I mean Niles is a brat, and the Weird came from no-where. I know next to nothing on the Bride, or Frankenstein, or Dr Brun.” His eyes looked to the ceiling as he thought it through out loud, “I wouldn't think Lyta, or Laura, but maybe that's wishful thinking on my part.” His eyes catch hers and she nods for him to continue. “I doubt it's Robert, but for all I know it's pre-programmed into him...”
“Good thinking Doctor. We had considered that possibility.” She takes another sip of her coffee and sucked in through her teeth, as she adds another layer of sugar cubes. “Missing anyone?”
He looks downwards. “Me? I don't think I'm feeding secrets to the enemy whilst flying around as a giant man-bat.” She shakes her head, then subtly pulls up her striped jumper, revealing her watch. “Time?!” Langstrom hushes his voice and leans forward. “Why would Time..?”
She shrugs. “Like I told you he is a man of secrets, like yourself.”
“You said that before. What did you mean?” The little sugar cube tower was getting higher.
“Father Time is a complicated man. We do not see eye to eye on everything.” She finishes the last of her coffee and picks up another cube. “He believes that there are things that people are better off not knowing, like he says, things to be kept in the shadows. He does not realise that secrets can be like wounds, covering up them up, leaving them- can cause them to fester. Leave a secret long enough, it can kill someone. Rip the bandage of, let it see the sun, people can heal.”
Kirk shakes his head. “I don't still know what you're talking about.”
“Do you want to stay in the shadows Doctor, or turn on the light? I will give you the choice.” Her voice sounded more raspy and subdued. He nods, unsure to exactly what he's agreeing. She continues, “Nine years ago...” Those words make his stomach drop. “...your wife was pregnant.” His heart is beating rapidly in his chest. “The child she carried was not fully human...” His eyes close, he wants this to stop but his mouth won't move. “Your experiments on yourself had affected your D.N.A. And in turn, that of your offspring.” He can see her there screaming, he tries to hold her hand reassure her. “Her womb could not handle the modified infant, she was dying.” He can see her pain. His tears drop on to her hand. She pulls him close and tells him. Don't let him die. “In your desire to save her and the child, you did the only thing you could think of. You used the serum on her.” Do it. Through tear filled eyes he shakes his head. She screams and convulses. His shaking hand places the needle in her arm. He pushes. “But she died.”
He screams, standing and flipping the table, sending the coffee cups and the tower of sugar cubes flying. “NO!” Her lying there, half changed. He had ruined her beauty, her life, her death. He drops to his knees. Panting he looks up at the old woman. “Why? Why are you telling me this!?”
“A father has the right to know.”
He keeps breathing heavily, his face contorting with confusion. The words echo in his mouth. “... A father...”
“When you fled, S.H.A.D.E. agents retrieved one Aaron Langstrom, still alive, from his mother's womb. A healthy nine pounds. He was taken and placed in S.H.A.D.E.'s child rearing facility, to be looked after and trained by S.H.A.D.E...”
He stands, slightly wary on his thin lanky legs. “Where?”
“The facility is on Level 17 of the DRA-SIL. A few stories under where you work.” He starts to walk. She calls, “Where are you going? You must not leave this base until Father Time returns.” He keeps walking. She signals. Three men in powered armour step out, grabbing onto his arms. She stands up, “Take him to holding, until he calms down.” With a sudden jerk of strength he throws the armoured man into the wall. He grabs an injection gun from his pocket, stabbing into his own arm.
He screams, falling to the floor. Baba points, “Stop him!” The three knight drop down to try and hold him, but he's changing. His huge wings toss them aside. Manbat turns over and launches himself at the window, smashing it through.
“Aaron!”
*
Father Time coughs on the smoke he sucks into his lungs. He looks at Madame Xanadu. She raises an eyebrow, “I take it the card means something to you?”
He sighs, “Perhaps.”
“Ok now for the present.” She flips over the next card. “King of Cups, reversed; A powerful man of emotions- but reversed, stifled.”
King of Cups
Oblivion bar
A blue scarred hand flips a large cup over, placing it with the others. Frankenstein burps. He lifts a finger to the barman, who nods in response. He puts another pint in front of him. He gulps down half the beer, and leans back.
“Does that thing get Talk Radio?” The voice comes from his side. He turned to see a big man, in a police uniform, eyes half closed with a lazy tipsiness. Frankenstein tries to read him but it wasn't clear. He grunts. Self loathing mainly, but that could mean anything. The cop looks down at himself. “Oh don' worry, I'm not on duty...”
“I was not worried,” Frankenstein replies. He downs the rest of the glass.
“New Years not your thing? Not my thing either really. Always overblown, can never meet expectations...” He finishes his glass then waves to the barman, pointing at himself and the blue skinned man. The barman nodded, filling up a couple more glasses.
Frankenstein looks around at the bar, filled with its motley group of magical types. Some seemed to be celebrating the coming New Year. A group of small green goblins were by the duke box, in silly party hats, loudly fighting over what song needed to be playing when the New Year rang in. Others seemed content to sit quietly, sipping ales, looking melancholic. A chimp, in a Sherlock Holmes hat, sat playing cards with some sort of demon.
“Who is she?” the policeman asks, looking at his own cup. “Trust me, I've been 'round long enough to see it in a man, and it's all over you. So who's the broad?”
Frankenstein pauses considering the question. “A friend.” Suddenly his smiles. “My wife.” At this admission he laughs, heartily and loudly. The policeman joins in until it grows and they're both in tears.
“Why are we laughing?” the cops asks.
“I do not know,” the S.H.A.D.E. agent admits, as the laughter dies down. He takes another cup. “Why are you here officer of the law?”
“Me? I just needed to get a way for a while,” he scratches his chin, “You know what I mean?”
The giant blue man grunts in agreement. They sit in silence for a while, then Frankenstein stands, almost wobbling. Finishing his last glass he turns. Putting out his hand, the cop shakes it. “It was a pleasure to meet you lawman.”
“Right now I go by Harold, Harold Champion.” The policeman smiles.
“And I by Frankenstein,” says Frankenstein. He looks on the bar table, and picks up a matchbox. Squinting at it, he places it into his pocket. “I should go, I have only returned from the moon.” He walks onwards to the exit.
“You go buddy!” calls Harold, then turns back to his drink.
“Hello brother. We should talk.”
Harold ignores the smiling man that now stands beside him. “Fuck off Hermes.”
*
Madame Xanadu tops up his tea. “We can stop at anytime if it all gets too much to you.”
“That's a patronising tone Xan. Do you forget who you're talking to?” Time speaks sternly.
“Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud,” she says, “I was just teasing. Next card: the Future.”
She flips it over and taps it. “Death; Loss, Change, Transformation.” After he doesn't respond, she smiles reassuringly, “Don't worry, it's usually not literal.”
“It's not that.” He touches the card. “There's another card there.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “Must have got stuck somehow.” She moves it aside revealing, “The Wheel of Fortune, reversed. Bad luck, Misfortune, Fate pushes you downwards. Not good so much.”
He blew smoke out in a ring. “Not so much.”
Death and Wheel of Fortune, Reversed.
Lyta stands in the crater. The destruction around only evokes a numb feeling. She stumbles forward, falling onto the ground. Pushing herself up using her half claw shaped hands; she spots the bottom half of a human arm, and gags. She limps up to the edge of the crater and looks out to the rest of the destruction. The sight takes the breath from her throat. Death, she can smell it. She sees the figure in the distance.
“WHY!?” she shouts as the tears hit her lips. “You were one of us!”
Beside her, a destroyed vehicle still smokes, a remaining wheel still spinning on its axle.
*
Father Time stubs out the pipe. Sighing, he stands up, taking the umbrella off the back of his chair. Madame Xanadu gives him a half smile. “Sorry, Time.”
“It's fine Xan. I come to you for the truth, and as always, you deliver.” He put the pipe into his jacket and buttons it back up.
“Father Time,” the psychic's voice has a hint of concern. “You're in trouble aren't you?”
“More than you could believe.”
She holds the pack of cards up to him. “One more for the road, just for you. On the house.” She tilts her chin waiting for him to respond.
Father Time smiles and takes the top card. “Mmm, typical.” He throws the card down.
She places her hand on top of it. “The Fool; New beginnings, Fresh start, Innocence.”
“Ha.” Father Time nods. He pulls out a pocket watch and flips it open, then replaces it in his pocket. “Happy New Years Madame Xanadu,” he says as he walks to the doorway.
“Happy New Years Father Time,” she calls.
Taking one last breath of her shop, he opens the door. Walking out into the dark night he can hear the noise of people in the local bars, celebrating. Robert is leaning against the black S.H.A.D.E. car. He moves his head up from a book he's holding. “You know I could read this in my head but now I can smell the pages, I forgot how much I miss books.” His eye-cams zoom into Father Time's face. “You ok?”
“Fine Robert, fine.” Father Time throws Robotman his umbrella. “Let's see what this New Year brings.” He unwinds his turban and drops it on the ground.
In the distance, the sound of voices counting down becomes louder.
“5...4...3...2...”
“One,” says Father Time as white light envelops him.