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Chapter 81: Tack Gets Raped in Prison
Darkness warshed over Jedipoet, darker’n a steer’s tuckus on a moonless prairie night. There was no bottom. He couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened, but none of it really seemed to matter. Wherever he was, it was comfortable and fluffy and floaty and chewy, like a cloud in the shape of a duck. All those things he’d been stressing about were out of his reach now, and that was fine. He couldn’t think of anything in the universe that was more important than floating, not even … Tack? The name and face came unbidden, intruding on his floaty paradise, grating on the whole thing, like a grain of sand in a mouthful of bread.
Tack was gone, was that important? Probably not, though he felt a tug of memory, an inkling that it had been at some point, like a forgotten dream or an ex-girlfriend whose name you can’t quite remember. It couldn’t have been that important, he told himself. After all, lots of people were gone. Then more faces, more names, more worries flooded in. He couldn’t stop them. Ren, Geekers, Fools, and … someone else? They were gone. All his fault, his responsibility. And he’d … What had he done?
His body was suddenly very heavy, as if the weight of the responsibility he felt for these people were a physical thing that suddenly brought 300 pounds along with their memory. The weight was too much. There could be no more floating. He began to fall, and in that seemingly endless darkness, he did find the bottom.
“They should be coming around momentarily, sir.”
“Excellent.” Data said.
The lab was quite big, about the size of two basketball courts laid out right next to each other. Taking up fully one quarter of that space was a machine unlike anything the universe had seen. In truth, it most resembled a Star Trek transporter pad, but on the scale that a person might need if they had a sudden desire to transport, say, a tyrannosaurus. A large empty pad was elevated about 5 feet off the ground, and more than 10 feet above that hung an identical pad aimed downward, both generating a soft light that eerily illuminated the space between. Nearby two figures worked busily on other equipment attached to the pads by a series of cables or clamps or even huge things that looked like vacuum tubes but large enough to fit a person inside.
In the corner of the lab farthest from the device, the Leader had set up for a little conference. Six chairs sat in a semi-circle, facing the device at the other end of the lab. In each chair sat a drowsing figure, secured to the chair by hands cuffed behind them. Each of them also wore a steel band around the neck, and as Data looked down the line there were six green lights blinking softly back at him from the bands.
They’d all been tranquilized rather heavily, but his guards had applied the counteragent, and he could already see the gentle breathing motion of sleep falling away from them each as consciousness began to return. He motioned the guards to step back behind the six captives, and he brought a chair for himself, setting it directly in front of them and straddling it backward so that he could rest his arms on the back and his chin on his arms as he watched them come around. It was a fascinating process to watch people return to the conscious world.
Foolsfolly began to stir first, but the others weren’t far behind. His head lolled and his eye blinked (winked?) several times, as if he couldn’t quite see yet.
“Take it slow.” Data told them in a calm, friendly voice. “I know you’re groggy and disoriented. It’s an unavoidable side effect of the tranquilizer. It’ll pass in a couple of minutes.” Film_geek’s unfocussed eyes moved toward the source of the voice, but his brain didn’t seem to be quite registering what he was seeing yet.
“You’re lucky, actually.” Data continued. “They tell me that the counteragent used to cause severe, mind-blowing, ungodly headaches. I had them fix that part.” He smiled. “So you shouldn’t be experiencing any of that.” Poet was shaking his head, as if trying to clear the cobwebs out. So Data looked to Tack. “You’re not, are you?”
Tack wasn’t quite all there yet either. “Wha?”
“Headaches. Like someone dropped a bowling ball on your head. Not having one of those, are you?” He still didn’t seem to comprehend. “Nevermind.” Data said after a moment. “I think we’d all know by now if you were. There would be screaming, probably crying. I wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise. As it is, you guys are lovely conversation partners.”
“Data?” Ren asked. She was squinting, but the things she was seeing and hearing were finally getting translated by her brain.
“Good, Ren. Good. Now, do you know where you are?”
She looked around, still groggy but seeing what was there now. “I’m … is this … oh no.” She dropped her head forward again, looking almost like she might cry.
Data stood up and with a quick step placed a hand on her shoulder, stooping down to meet her eye level. “You’re back where you belong, Ren. We’ve missed you.” Ren just shook her head slowly from side to side, refusing to look up at him.
Just to the right of Ren, Tack watched for a moment, not comprehending what he was seeing. Then understanding flooded his face all at once. “Wait, Data?!” Then a yelp of pain escaped him. Data turned just in time to see the light on his collar go from an angry red back to green. He allowed himself a slight satisfied smile.
The cry of pain from their friend seemed to go some way toward bringing the others around, and a moment later there was a chorus of matching cries, the lights around their necks flipping from green to red and then back again on each of the captives. The only ones not to experience the effect were Ren, who continued to hang her head silently, and at the far right end of the line, Drums, who, though fully conscious now, seemed satisfied to simply stare daggers at his once and future captor.
Data stood up and took a step back, surveying the group. “You guys should probably refrain from trying to make use of your powers just now.” Seven eyes stared back at him in defiance, two in hate. The final two just stared at the ground. “No, I’m serious, guys. While you were asleep we fitted you with some bling, a gift you might say. Ren and Drums know. They gave me the pleasure of a visit when these first came into style, right, guys?”
Ren continued to mutely avoid Data’s gaze, but Drums was seething. “Obedience collars.” He spat.
“Well, that’s not really a name I like, but I suppose-“ He was cut off by another, louder shriek of pain from Jedipoet. Poet was seated at the far left, and Data turned toward him. He looked a little bit cross, but mostly disappointed. “Seriously, Poet? You really can’t wait like two minutes before trying to kill me so I can explain why you shouldn’t? You’re in that much of a hurry? It’s just rude is what it is.”
“You said we were going to talk.” Poet accused. “You ‘guaranteed’ my safety. Now I’m handcuffed to a chair with a fucking shockey dog collar thing around my neck. That’s not rude?”
“Well, first of all, we are talking. Or we would be if you could control yourself a little. Second, you are safe.” He straddled his chair again and looked around the lab as if considering the word for the first time. “For certain values of ‘safe’ anyway. I mean, it really doesn’t get much safer than this place.”
“You uncuff us, and we’ll show you ‘safe,’ you piece of –“ Film_geek’s insult was cut off by yet another cry of pain as the light on his collar went to red and then back to green again a moment later.
Data sighed. “If you want to know why that keeps happening, you might try shutting up for a minute so I can explain.” There was a sullen silence, which Data took as acquiescence. “Thank you. Now, I was saying that while you were asleep I gave you guys some very stylish new fashion accessories. See, the boys in R&D, through a rigorous testing process, which I won’t bore you with, discovered that for most of us with special abilities, there is a conscious effort needed to activate them. Of course people with powers like our friend Syrix and,” the side of his mouth quirked up, “a few others I could name, don’t use them the same way, but for the most part you have to actually concentrate on using them. That concentration always takes place in the same part of the brain. These necklaces are our answer to that. They monitor that part of the brain, and when you start firing those neurons up to try to TK me into a wall or turn into sand or whatever, the necklace sends an electrical pulse into your brain that disrupts your ability to focus the necessary functions. It’s really kind of cool. Unfortunately, it also causes a significant amount of pain, as you may have noticed.”
Tack let out another scream, this one was longer and louder than before, in fact it lasted several seconds. Now that he knew what was happening he was trying to force his way through the pain. If he could begin the change, even just a little, he might be able to make it out of the cuffs and the collar. Data cringed at the wail he made, but after a moment he collapsed into his chair breathing heavily.
Data frowned and shook his head a bit. It had been loud. “You may also have noticed that each time you try, the shock gets stronger. It’s necessary to make sure that you don’t get used to it. Unfortunately, that also means that for those among us who are especially incorrigible, the shocks will eventually cause you to pass out. They could even kill you if you don’t learn your lesson. I don’t want to see that happen, and I know you definitely don’t want to see that happen. So you might not want to test the collar too many times. Ok? I admit it’s not the most humane way of dealing with this. These were actually just our first try. Since then, we’ve developed some more advanced power dampening techniques that we’ve been using, but recent events have proved that they’re not really 100% effective. What I need to talk to you guys about is important enough that I didn’t want to take any chances. So we’re back to this until we work out all the kinks. I really am sorry.”
There were a few sullen, angry looks. Tack was still trying to catch his breath from his last round with the device, but all the lights stayed green. “Great.” He said, flashing them a smile. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I bet you’re all wondering why I invited you here.”
“Kidnapped.” Fools corrected.
“Invited, kidnapped, do we really want to get bogged down in semantics at this point? The important thing is, you’re all here, and I’ve got an exciting offer to make you all.”
“Join or die?” Drums ventured.
Data frowned, “Not exactly, no. Look, the truth of the matter is, I need your help.”
“Ha!” Geekers exclaimed. “Why on Earth or Eath-2 or wherever we are, would we want to help you?”
“Because helping me means helping yourselves.”
“Pfft.”
“No, I’m quite serious.” There were incredulous looks all around. Data stood again and glanced over at the machine across the room. After a moment he turned back to the captured heroes. “Ok, maybe I’m going at this the wrong way. How would you all like to go home?”
That got their attention. Even Ren looked up. “Bullshit.” Poet said.
“On the contrary, we’ve had the technology to do that for a long time. What do you think happened to Qwirtle? Ask Ren.”
Everyone turned to look at their comrade. She and Qwirtle had been captured by Data once upon a time. She’d ended up working for the Leader. None of them had ever seen Qwirtle again, and since she’d come back to their side she’d been loathe to talk about anything relating to her time with the Guarsdmen.
There was a long pregnant silence. “It’s true.” She said finally. “Before he left, Qwirtle came to see me. He told me Data had a way to send us home, and that he was going.” Her head sagged down again. “That was the last time I saw him.”
Data smiled. He hadn’t sent Qwirtle home, of course, but Qwirtle had believed it. Ren had believed it. The only people who knew otherwise were his people, Puma, and whoever had briefly stolen the corpse. The heroes obviously didn’t know. The lie had been a calculated risk to gain some confidence, and it seemed to be paying off.
“If you can go home any time you want, why haven’t you?” Fools asked, wanting to believe that it was true, but doubting it very much.
Data laughed at the idea. “Why on Earth would I leave here? Go home? Why? I may have been pretty awesome back there, but here I am the undisputed ruler of pretty much the entire planet. What could possibly entice me to go back?”
Once again there was silence for a long moment. “As a matter of fact, I offered Ren the same option. I told her that she was free to go home whenever she wanted, but she saw the advantage to staying here, being awesome instead of average.” He looked at her. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “If you’d changed you mind, Ren, you should have just said something. You could be home right now.”
“They needed me.” She said quietly, more to herself than to him.
“I still don’t believe you.” Poet declared. “You just want us to march into your death machine on our own. Well, I’m not doing it. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to do it the hard way.”
“Kill you?” Data seemed to find the idea incredibly funny. “I don’t want to kill you. If that was the plan, you never would have woken up here. You’d be lying in a ditch somewhere in Miami. Or maybe I would have just dropped a bomb on your oh-so-secret base.” That seemed to sting the pride of the group a little. “But, I thought you might have a little trouble believing me. So I brought along an old friend.” He looked over his shoulder. “Puma!” He called, and one of the men working on the device across the room popped his head up and started making his way over.
The man slowed as he got near the group, approaching almost shyly. “Uh, hey, guys.”
Recriminations began to fly, and Puma was thrown on the defensive. Data stood back and let them talk. He’d convinced Puma to help. He’d shown him the device, the schematics, everything it took to convince Puma that it would work just as advertised. Even offered to provide the materials for Puma to build his own if he was unwilling to trust Data’s tech to get them home. He’d finally won Puma over, the promise of a trip home had been too good to pass up, and now he hoped that tech genius could convince his friends.
It was another calculated risk. Puma knew Qwirtle’s true fate, but he didn’t know that Data claimed to have sent him home, and the others had no reason to think that Puma had information about it that they didn’t. As long as no one brought the former Rogues’ leader up, this could work, but it was another roll of the dice.
It took a while for Puma to explain what had happened to him, how he’d tried to become a double agent, infiltrate the Guardsmen, with mixed success. Then he explained the device that was going to send them home, repeating Data’s offer to provide them with the means to make their own if they didn’t trust him. His old friends doubted at first, but the more they talked the more they seemed to come around, and hearing their former ally go on tangents about technical details way over their heads even seemed nostalgic for a couple of them.
When the conversation seemed to take a turn that might lead it into dangerous territory, Data stepped in again. “Puma, we’re on a bit of a schedule. Do you think…?”
Puma looked back toward the device where Super_genius was still hard at work. “Oh, right.” He turned back to his friends. “Look, guys, I know it’s hard to believe, but I think this is on the level. It works, I’m sure of it. It’s basically the same thing I was trying to build back in the day.” He stole a quick glance at Data. “I don’t like him any more than you do, but if we get to go home, who cares? I’ve got to go. Think about it, ok?” With that he trotted off across the lab again.
Data reclaimed his chair. “So, do we believe me yet?” No one said anything, but everyone’s thoughts were obviously on the possibility.
Finally, Drums glared at him again. He’d been Data’s prisoner for quite a while at one point, and he was less willing to give than anyone. “So what you’re saying is, all we have to do to go home is help you with your whole evil world domination thing?” The words came out drenched in sarcasm, and the rest of the prisoners frowned to themselves. The price was obviously distasteful to all of them.
Data, however, seemed rather taken aback. “What? No.” He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m managing the world domination thing quite well without you all, thank you very much. In spite of you all, even.” The looks coming at him now were surprised and irritated in roughly equal portions. “No, like I said before, in this case, helping me is helping yourselves.”
Data waited for someone to ask the obvious question, not wanting to proceed until the group had given its tacit approval. “How?” Poet asked finally. Data grinned again.
“I’ve got a project in the works. To tell the truth, I’ve been planning it for quite some time, almost since you all showed up, actually. And five of you are absolutely essential.” The six heroes looked at each other, wondering at the same moment which of them wasn’t essential, and what exactly that meant.
Data gave them a second to consider the statement. “You all remember the Caretaker, I take it?”
There were nods. Poet, used to being the leader was a bit bolder than the others. “Yeah, he brought us here to stop you.”
Data cocked an eyebrow at him. “You still believe that, honestly? After all that you’ve seen?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Caretaker brought us all here, me and my people included. Why do you think that is? If he brought you here just to stop me, why did he bring me?”
Poet had obviously given the question some thought, because he had an answer ready. “He probably asked you to do something, but you got greedy and started taking over. So he brought us to set things right.”
Data gave a quick sharp laugh. “Oh, really? If that’s all it was, why didn’t he just send me home again?” He paused for a second as if expecting an answer, but before Poet could offer one he started again. “Here’s an even better question. Why did he keep sending people to help me? Hell, not long after you guys showed up, he dropped a new recruit right into the middle of a meeting I was having with the Guardsmen, right onto the table. Why would he do that?”
Poet’s mouth opened and then closed again without making a sound. “You’ve been going along all this time, thinking that you were on some sort of holy crusade with the guardian of the universe on your side, but the truth is, he isn’t on anyone’s side. He’s been playing us both against each other since the moment you arrived.” Data let that sink in for a minute.
“But why?” Geekers asked. If Data was right (which seemed probable), it meant that everything they’d seen and done since the mysterious light had dropped them into this fucked up universe had been one big lie or game or something. He didn’t want that to be true. It just couldn’t be true.
“That is the million dollar question. That is why I need your help. That is why we built this.” He pointed across the lab to where Puma and Super were working.
“You mean that’s not the thing that takes us home?” Tack asked.
Another surprised look from the Leader. “What? No. No, the thing that sends you home is about 6 or 7 feet tall, looks sort of like a phone booth. It’s up in one of the smaller labs, been finished for months and months, works like a charm. No, this, my friends, is something I’ve had super_genius working on for a long, long time. It’s finally almost done. This is a telephone.”
Drums snorted. Film_geek’s mouth fell open. “A what?”
Data looked back at them, obviously a little disappointed that his grand declaration hadn’t gotten a little more of a reaction. “A telephone, well, sort of. Look, it’s sort of hard to explain. Basically, we’ve been monitoring the Caretaker’s activity here. Every time he drops someone off or talks to someone or whatever, we can’t pinpoint it exactly. We don’t know who he is dropping where or anything, but that’s not the point. We’ve been learning about him.” Data was walking back and forth in front of them now, talking kind of quickly. “He has these powers, reality altering powers. He seems almost omnipotent, and, as you might expect, that’s the sort of thing that I’m curious about.”
Drums snorted again, but Data ignored it. “From what we’ve been able to figure out, he can do what he does because he exists on … I guess you’d call it sort of a different wavelength than the rest of us, than the reality that we know ever.” He looked at his prisoners, but they didn’t seem to get it. “I know I’m not explaining it really well. It’s insanely complex, but the main thing is, we know why he can do this stuff. He is on a different plane of existence. Actually plane is a bad word for it. I think wavelength is the best way to describe it. He sees, experiences the universe differently than we do. So he can change it in ways we don’t understand.”
“So you want his power.” Drums accused.
Data was brought up short, being interrupted in the middle of his train of thought that way. “What? No. Have you heard anything I’ve said? We don’t even think that’s possible. The human body, the human brain wasn’t designed to be able to perceive the universe like that. So maybe this guy is a member of a whole species like him or maybe he evolved to that state or maybe he really is some kind of god or something. For our purposes it’s not significant. What is significant is that we’ve found his wavelength, and with the right technology,” he pointed to the huge device again, “we can dial into it. We can call him, and he won’t be able to ignore us. We can finally get some answers.”
“How does that help us?” Tack asked.
“Because until we understand what’s really happening here, there’s no telling what he’ll do next. Think about it, I could send you home right now, and if you want I’ll do just that, but what’s to say he doesn’t scoop you right back up and send you back again? We have to understand what’s happening before we can be sure of a permanent solution.”
“And if he doesn’t want to let us stay home?” Fools asked, his voice hard.
“Then we take a more aggressive approach.” Data replied ominously. The group was quiet for a moment while everyone contemplated the meaning in that statement.
“What do you need us to do?” Poet said finally. Everyone turned to look at him. It was the first indication that they might actually be willing to go along with Data’s plan, and the Leader was visibly delighted.
“You, my dear Poet, not much. But for the rest of you, I have some very important work. Super_genius has been working on this device almost from the moment he arrived, and he assured me from the start that the task was impossible with just mechanical parts. That is where the five of you come in,” Data referred to everyone except for Poet.
Fools was the first person in line after Poet. Data approached him first. “The job we have for you is the most important, Fools. We need you to focus the signal we’re broadcasting. Without your ability to bend light to just the right frequency, we can’t hope to get to the wavelength we need.” He moved on to Geekers. “They told me that creating a substance with rapidly variable density was a physical impossibility. Apparently they didn’t check with you before making that call.”
Ren’s task was similar. Then Tack, “A sentient, mutable, non-conducting silicate. You have no idea how excited Super was when he heard about you. He was already well into the design phase, and you solved a lot of problems.” Tack couldn’t decide whether the statement deserved a smile or frown in response and got caught somewhere in the middle.
“And, Drums, without your phasing modulating Fools’ signal-bending, we won’t be able to get it where it needs to go.” He made a grand gesture with one arm. “I need all of your help if we’re going to manage this.”
“Then why have you been trying to kill us all this time?!” Tack blurted out. He himself seemed surprised at the outburst, but Data smiled wryly.
“I haven’t.”
This time incredulous or rude words flew from everyone’s lips. Data gave them a moment to let it all out. Then he held up a hand for silence. “No, seriously, I want you all to think about this. Do you honestly think that I couldn’t have killed you all by now if that’s what I wanted to do? I am the undisputed leader of the entire planet. I took on entire nations and got rid of every single one of the old heroes. What are there, like a dozen of you guys? You really think that you were just too tough for me? I’m sorry to bruise your egos, especially when I need your help, but you need to understand what’s been going on.”
“Bullshit!” Poet said again. “You’ve tried to kill us a hundred times.”
“I knew where your base in Miami was. I knew where your mountain hideaway with the Outcasts was. If I wanted you dead, all it would have taken was a couple of well-placed bombs.”
It only took Poet a second’s thought to come up with a counter-argument. “Maybe you knew by then that you needed us, but before that-“
“Before that? I had Rage on your team disguised as Jonix within a couple of hours of your arrival here, Poet. A few slit throats, and it would have been over.” Poet started to object, but Data cut him off again. “I’ll admit that at the time I didn’t know how much I was going to need you eventually, but it became clear relatively quickly. Recall, if you will, the evacuation of the city, just a couple of months after your arrival. I got everyone out. I could have nuked the city into oblivion. In fact, that’s what everyone thought I was going to do. I didn’t, because after Tack arrived I knew I was going to need you, and I was keeping you all in one place, isolated but alive. Of course I had to ‘borrow’ Ren and Drums first, because they could have escaped the city, and then I left a few hero hunters to keep you all distracted and on your toes, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.”
Foolsfolly suddenly struggled against his restraints in an attempt to lunge forward. “’Nothing we couldn’t handle’?! You son of a –“
“But you told me to kill them.” Ren said, interrupting Fools’ raging. Her voice was quiet, but insistent. “You sent me to the city and told me to kill them. Why would you…?”
Data’s smile grew sad. “I’m sorry, Ren. I know it was a little hard on you, but I needed you kept separate and safe as much as any of them. I thought you’d enjoy some cat and mouse games with your old friends.”
“But I could have …” she looked over at film_geek.
“No.” The Leader said, putting a hand on her shoulder again. She flinched back. “I see flaws, Ren, in plans, in people. Do you really think I couldn’t tell that you’d never kill your friends?”
She shook her head. “You couldn’t. You couldn’t know that. I didn’t even know that until it happened.”
“I guess you don’t know yourself as well as you think you do, then.”
She looked away from him, tears brimming in her eyes again. “Of course I never expected them to capture you.” He looked back to Poet and the others. “That was impressive, I’ll admit. Of course she wouldn’t have given you what you wanted. Rage did that. He was unstable. I knew it. That’s why he was isolated in the city too, but I guess I underestimated the damage he could do. That was a mistake. Since then I’ve been keeping tabs on you as best I could and trying to ensure that none of you got yourselves killed before we were ready here.”
There were incredulous looks all around. No one could believe that Data had planned and manipulated them to the degree that he was claiming. It wasn’t possible, was it? Before anyone could argue the point any further, Data brought the conversation to a close. “This is all beside the point. What’s important is that you’re all here now, and we’re almost ready to proceed. Super and Puma are putting the finishing touches in place now. So what do you all want to do?”
“What about the others?” Tack asked. In the midst of all these startling revelations, he hadn’t forgotten their friends.
“When we’re done here, the others will be free to go home as well. The only reason they’re not here now is that they’re not necessary for this part. Capturing and convincing them would be more time and trouble than it’s worth before we’ve gotten this taken care of.”
There were nods of acceptance all around, but Poet wasn’t ready just yet. Something still bothered him. “So you expect us to just go home and abandon all the people here, people we said we would protect from you. We’re heroes now. We can’t do that. We can’t let you declare yourself king and do whatever you want.”
Data’s face turned red, and for a moment it looked like he might lose his temper completely, but the moment passed quickly, and his demeanor became calm again. When he spoke you could tell that he was expending some effort to keep himself calm. “You cannot possibly be that dense.”
“You’ve taken over the whole planet by force. You’ve killed the old heroes, the only people they had to stand up for freedom and liberty.”
“The only people they had to stand up for chaos and insanity! I’ve made things better!”
“Tell that to the Canadians. Tell that to all the other people you’ve killed because they got in the way of your new world order.”
“Poet,” Fools began, but Poet wasn’t about to hear it.
“No! He’s playing nice now because he wants our help and then he wants us out of the way. I won’t just leave and let him go on killing anyone he doesn’t like. It’s not right.”
Data sighed for dramatic effect. “It’s not that simple. This isn’t a comic book. There isn’t a good guy and a bad guy. Even if things were that black and white, I certainly wouldn’t be the bad guy here.”
“Killing people doesn’t make you the bad guy? How do you figure that?”
“Yes, Poet, I kill people, when I have to. So do policemen. So do soldiers. Even a lot of comic book heroes kill the enemy when it’s necessary. When it’s necessary to do what is right, what is the best for the most people. Sometimes you have to get rid of the people who are standing in the way of that.”
“What you’re doing –“
“What we’re doing is bringing order and structure into a chaotic world! In places where I’m in charge, children aren’t dying from starvation. Men and women don’t drop dead from diseases that would be easily curable if pharmaceutical companies were more worried about people than about their bottom line. We don’t have poverty, crime, poor healthcare, and poor education running rampant while congressmen debate how big a pay raise to give themselves. We don’t have that because there is no debate. They don’t get a say. I do, because I can see the problems. I can see the cracks in society, and I know how to fill them.”
Poet opened her mouth to say something else, but Data cut him off yet again. “You’re so concerned with the ‘horrible’ things that I’m supposedly doing for my own personal gain? You’re so certain that I’m destroying freedom? Fine, why don’t you tell all the people being fed well for the first time in their lives that they need to go back to starving to death because you don’t like my attitude.” He took a step closer as Jedipoet defiantly met his gaze. “Insist that the millions of people finally receiving medical treatment get busy dying of easily curable diseases because you want to be the hero instead of me. Let the mothers in countries that have been torn by war for the entirety of modern history know that you’re taking their nine year old sons out of the classrooms and putting the AK-47s back in their hands because the way I do things offends your delicate sensibilities. And while you’re talking to all of those people, you take the opportunity to ask if they feel like those ends were worth what it took to get them. You ask them just how much freedom I forced them to give up before I kept my promises. I think you’ll find that given the choice between your self-righteous posturing and ‘heroic’ monologues and my leadership it won’t take them long to come to a decision.”
“You and those old heroes are nothing but agents of chaos hiding behind lofty ideals and pretty rhetoric. You’re fighting me for the people’s right to let children die of starvation. You’ve killed my people and others to ‘defend’ your own right to steal from people less powerful than you so that you can find your way home more quickly.” He looked at Ren and Fools there. Both knew fully that they’d done things with the Rogues that they were ashamed of in retrospect. “And I’m the bad guy here? So, yes, sometimes I kill people. Sometimes I torture people or kidnap them and worse than that. I won’t deny it. Hell, I’m proud of it. Because every step I’ve taken, every person that we’ve had to take out has brought us a step closer to fixing the problems with this world, the problems that everyone can see but that no one does anything about. I see them clearer than anyone, but the biggest difference is that I refuse to sit by and let them go unrepaired.”
Poet had no response. He looked at the floor, anger evident on his face, but not able to continue the argument after Data’s lengthy monologue. In fact, none of the heroes seemed inclined to respond. “And let me tell you something else, Poet. Because I bet you’re wondering why I brought you here, since I don’t need you to make the machine work.” Poet looked up at him now, curious but also a little bit afraid.
“You see, I thought that since your people were helping me place this call to the Caretaker, you guys might want your own representative on the line, and as their leader, I thought you might have a few questions of your own for our mysterious travel agent.”
He motioned to one of the guards standing behind the heroes, and the man moved to undo Jedipoet’s handcuffs. Data reached his hand out to the other man. “What do you say?” Poet looked at the extended hand for a long time, but finally he reached out and shook it with his own, sealing the bargain.
“Great. Let’s get started.”
“Has it been long enough?” GDChickoo was eager for news of Fools and the others. She’d been asking every hour. Finally, though, it looked like it was time.
“They’ve got to be there by now.” Erok said. “Puma, turn it on.”
Pumabot sent out a coded signal to activate the tiny tracking device that Erok had slipped under Poet’s collar before he’d gone out to meet Data. “Signal transmitting.” Puma said. “Location locked.” If they’d scanned the captives for tracking devices or active power sources before now, they wouldn’t have found anything because the tracker hadn’t been turned on. And if they managed to find it now, it would be too late. Erok and his people had the location already.
“Get Spider.” Erok told GD. “It’s time to get our friends back.”
In a tiny out of the way house, far off the beaten track but not far from where he knew his enemies would soon be ready, a dark figure emerged from the shadows. Two of his allies sat at the table, eating and waiting for his arrival. One of them knew him as Spectre, the other as Shadow, but both had given him their loyalty. “It is time.”
Darkness warshed over Jedipoet, darker’n a steer’s tuckus on a moonless prairie night. There was no bottom. He couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened, but none of it really seemed to matter. Wherever he was, it was comfortable and fluffy and floaty and chewy, like a cloud in the shape of a duck. All those things he’d been stressing about were out of his reach now, and that was fine. He couldn’t think of anything in the universe that was more important than floating, not even … Tack? The name and face came unbidden, intruding on his floaty paradise, grating on the whole thing, like a grain of sand in a mouthful of bread.
Tack was gone, was that important? Probably not, though he felt a tug of memory, an inkling that it had been at some point, like a forgotten dream or an ex-girlfriend whose name you can’t quite remember. It couldn’t have been that important, he told himself. After all, lots of people were gone. Then more faces, more names, more worries flooded in. He couldn’t stop them. Ren, Geekers, Fools, and … someone else? They were gone. All his fault, his responsibility. And he’d … What had he done?
His body was suddenly very heavy, as if the weight of the responsibility he felt for these people were a physical thing that suddenly brought 300 pounds along with their memory. The weight was too much. There could be no more floating. He began to fall, and in that seemingly endless darkness, he did find the bottom.
“They should be coming around momentarily, sir.”
“Excellent.” Data said.
The lab was quite big, about the size of two basketball courts laid out right next to each other. Taking up fully one quarter of that space was a machine unlike anything the universe had seen. In truth, it most resembled a Star Trek transporter pad, but on the scale that a person might need if they had a sudden desire to transport, say, a tyrannosaurus. A large empty pad was elevated about 5 feet off the ground, and more than 10 feet above that hung an identical pad aimed downward, both generating a soft light that eerily illuminated the space between. Nearby two figures worked busily on other equipment attached to the pads by a series of cables or clamps or even huge things that looked like vacuum tubes but large enough to fit a person inside.
In the corner of the lab farthest from the device, the Leader had set up for a little conference. Six chairs sat in a semi-circle, facing the device at the other end of the lab. In each chair sat a drowsing figure, secured to the chair by hands cuffed behind them. Each of them also wore a steel band around the neck, and as Data looked down the line there were six green lights blinking softly back at him from the bands.
They’d all been tranquilized rather heavily, but his guards had applied the counteragent, and he could already see the gentle breathing motion of sleep falling away from them each as consciousness began to return. He motioned the guards to step back behind the six captives, and he brought a chair for himself, setting it directly in front of them and straddling it backward so that he could rest his arms on the back and his chin on his arms as he watched them come around. It was a fascinating process to watch people return to the conscious world.
Foolsfolly began to stir first, but the others weren’t far behind. His head lolled and his eye blinked (winked?) several times, as if he couldn’t quite see yet.
“Take it slow.” Data told them in a calm, friendly voice. “I know you’re groggy and disoriented. It’s an unavoidable side effect of the tranquilizer. It’ll pass in a couple of minutes.” Film_geek’s unfocussed eyes moved toward the source of the voice, but his brain didn’t seem to be quite registering what he was seeing yet.
“You’re lucky, actually.” Data continued. “They tell me that the counteragent used to cause severe, mind-blowing, ungodly headaches. I had them fix that part.” He smiled. “So you shouldn’t be experiencing any of that.” Poet was shaking his head, as if trying to clear the cobwebs out. So Data looked to Tack. “You’re not, are you?”
Tack wasn’t quite all there yet either. “Wha?”
“Headaches. Like someone dropped a bowling ball on your head. Not having one of those, are you?” He still didn’t seem to comprehend. “Nevermind.” Data said after a moment. “I think we’d all know by now if you were. There would be screaming, probably crying. I wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise. As it is, you guys are lovely conversation partners.”
“Data?” Ren asked. She was squinting, but the things she was seeing and hearing were finally getting translated by her brain.
“Good, Ren. Good. Now, do you know where you are?”
She looked around, still groggy but seeing what was there now. “I’m … is this … oh no.” She dropped her head forward again, looking almost like she might cry.
Data stood up and with a quick step placed a hand on her shoulder, stooping down to meet her eye level. “You’re back where you belong, Ren. We’ve missed you.” Ren just shook her head slowly from side to side, refusing to look up at him.
Just to the right of Ren, Tack watched for a moment, not comprehending what he was seeing. Then understanding flooded his face all at once. “Wait, Data?!” Then a yelp of pain escaped him. Data turned just in time to see the light on his collar go from an angry red back to green. He allowed himself a slight satisfied smile.
The cry of pain from their friend seemed to go some way toward bringing the others around, and a moment later there was a chorus of matching cries, the lights around their necks flipping from green to red and then back again on each of the captives. The only ones not to experience the effect were Ren, who continued to hang her head silently, and at the far right end of the line, Drums, who, though fully conscious now, seemed satisfied to simply stare daggers at his once and future captor.
Data stood up and took a step back, surveying the group. “You guys should probably refrain from trying to make use of your powers just now.” Seven eyes stared back at him in defiance, two in hate. The final two just stared at the ground. “No, I’m serious, guys. While you were asleep we fitted you with some bling, a gift you might say. Ren and Drums know. They gave me the pleasure of a visit when these first came into style, right, guys?”
Ren continued to mutely avoid Data’s gaze, but Drums was seething. “Obedience collars.” He spat.
“Well, that’s not really a name I like, but I suppose-“ He was cut off by another, louder shriek of pain from Jedipoet. Poet was seated at the far left, and Data turned toward him. He looked a little bit cross, but mostly disappointed. “Seriously, Poet? You really can’t wait like two minutes before trying to kill me so I can explain why you shouldn’t? You’re in that much of a hurry? It’s just rude is what it is.”
“You said we were going to talk.” Poet accused. “You ‘guaranteed’ my safety. Now I’m handcuffed to a chair with a fucking shockey dog collar thing around my neck. That’s not rude?”
“Well, first of all, we are talking. Or we would be if you could control yourself a little. Second, you are safe.” He straddled his chair again and looked around the lab as if considering the word for the first time. “For certain values of ‘safe’ anyway. I mean, it really doesn’t get much safer than this place.”
“You uncuff us, and we’ll show you ‘safe,’ you piece of –“ Film_geek’s insult was cut off by yet another cry of pain as the light on his collar went to red and then back to green again a moment later.
Data sighed. “If you want to know why that keeps happening, you might try shutting up for a minute so I can explain.” There was a sullen silence, which Data took as acquiescence. “Thank you. Now, I was saying that while you were asleep I gave you guys some very stylish new fashion accessories. See, the boys in R&D, through a rigorous testing process, which I won’t bore you with, discovered that for most of us with special abilities, there is a conscious effort needed to activate them. Of course people with powers like our friend Syrix and,” the side of his mouth quirked up, “a few others I could name, don’t use them the same way, but for the most part you have to actually concentrate on using them. That concentration always takes place in the same part of the brain. These necklaces are our answer to that. They monitor that part of the brain, and when you start firing those neurons up to try to TK me into a wall or turn into sand or whatever, the necklace sends an electrical pulse into your brain that disrupts your ability to focus the necessary functions. It’s really kind of cool. Unfortunately, it also causes a significant amount of pain, as you may have noticed.”
Tack let out another scream, this one was longer and louder than before, in fact it lasted several seconds. Now that he knew what was happening he was trying to force his way through the pain. If he could begin the change, even just a little, he might be able to make it out of the cuffs and the collar. Data cringed at the wail he made, but after a moment he collapsed into his chair breathing heavily.
Data frowned and shook his head a bit. It had been loud. “You may also have noticed that each time you try, the shock gets stronger. It’s necessary to make sure that you don’t get used to it. Unfortunately, that also means that for those among us who are especially incorrigible, the shocks will eventually cause you to pass out. They could even kill you if you don’t learn your lesson. I don’t want to see that happen, and I know you definitely don’t want to see that happen. So you might not want to test the collar too many times. Ok? I admit it’s not the most humane way of dealing with this. These were actually just our first try. Since then, we’ve developed some more advanced power dampening techniques that we’ve been using, but recent events have proved that they’re not really 100% effective. What I need to talk to you guys about is important enough that I didn’t want to take any chances. So we’re back to this until we work out all the kinks. I really am sorry.”
There were a few sullen, angry looks. Tack was still trying to catch his breath from his last round with the device, but all the lights stayed green. “Great.” He said, flashing them a smile. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I bet you’re all wondering why I invited you here.”
“Kidnapped.” Fools corrected.
“Invited, kidnapped, do we really want to get bogged down in semantics at this point? The important thing is, you’re all here, and I’ve got an exciting offer to make you all.”
“Join or die?” Drums ventured.
Data frowned, “Not exactly, no. Look, the truth of the matter is, I need your help.”
“Ha!” Geekers exclaimed. “Why on Earth or Eath-2 or wherever we are, would we want to help you?”
“Because helping me means helping yourselves.”
“Pfft.”
“No, I’m quite serious.” There were incredulous looks all around. Data stood again and glanced over at the machine across the room. After a moment he turned back to the captured heroes. “Ok, maybe I’m going at this the wrong way. How would you all like to go home?”
That got their attention. Even Ren looked up. “Bullshit.” Poet said.
“On the contrary, we’ve had the technology to do that for a long time. What do you think happened to Qwirtle? Ask Ren.”
Everyone turned to look at their comrade. She and Qwirtle had been captured by Data once upon a time. She’d ended up working for the Leader. None of them had ever seen Qwirtle again, and since she’d come back to their side she’d been loathe to talk about anything relating to her time with the Guarsdmen.
There was a long pregnant silence. “It’s true.” She said finally. “Before he left, Qwirtle came to see me. He told me Data had a way to send us home, and that he was going.” Her head sagged down again. “That was the last time I saw him.”
Data smiled. He hadn’t sent Qwirtle home, of course, but Qwirtle had believed it. Ren had believed it. The only people who knew otherwise were his people, Puma, and whoever had briefly stolen the corpse. The heroes obviously didn’t know. The lie had been a calculated risk to gain some confidence, and it seemed to be paying off.
“If you can go home any time you want, why haven’t you?” Fools asked, wanting to believe that it was true, but doubting it very much.
Data laughed at the idea. “Why on Earth would I leave here? Go home? Why? I may have been pretty awesome back there, but here I am the undisputed ruler of pretty much the entire planet. What could possibly entice me to go back?”
Once again there was silence for a long moment. “As a matter of fact, I offered Ren the same option. I told her that she was free to go home whenever she wanted, but she saw the advantage to staying here, being awesome instead of average.” He looked at her. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “If you’d changed you mind, Ren, you should have just said something. You could be home right now.”
“They needed me.” She said quietly, more to herself than to him.
“I still don’t believe you.” Poet declared. “You just want us to march into your death machine on our own. Well, I’m not doing it. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to do it the hard way.”
“Kill you?” Data seemed to find the idea incredibly funny. “I don’t want to kill you. If that was the plan, you never would have woken up here. You’d be lying in a ditch somewhere in Miami. Or maybe I would have just dropped a bomb on your oh-so-secret base.” That seemed to sting the pride of the group a little. “But, I thought you might have a little trouble believing me. So I brought along an old friend.” He looked over his shoulder. “Puma!” He called, and one of the men working on the device across the room popped his head up and started making his way over.
The man slowed as he got near the group, approaching almost shyly. “Uh, hey, guys.”
Recriminations began to fly, and Puma was thrown on the defensive. Data stood back and let them talk. He’d convinced Puma to help. He’d shown him the device, the schematics, everything it took to convince Puma that it would work just as advertised. Even offered to provide the materials for Puma to build his own if he was unwilling to trust Data’s tech to get them home. He’d finally won Puma over, the promise of a trip home had been too good to pass up, and now he hoped that tech genius could convince his friends.
It was another calculated risk. Puma knew Qwirtle’s true fate, but he didn’t know that Data claimed to have sent him home, and the others had no reason to think that Puma had information about it that they didn’t. As long as no one brought the former Rogues’ leader up, this could work, but it was another roll of the dice.
It took a while for Puma to explain what had happened to him, how he’d tried to become a double agent, infiltrate the Guardsmen, with mixed success. Then he explained the device that was going to send them home, repeating Data’s offer to provide them with the means to make their own if they didn’t trust him. His old friends doubted at first, but the more they talked the more they seemed to come around, and hearing their former ally go on tangents about technical details way over their heads even seemed nostalgic for a couple of them.
When the conversation seemed to take a turn that might lead it into dangerous territory, Data stepped in again. “Puma, we’re on a bit of a schedule. Do you think…?”
Puma looked back toward the device where Super_genius was still hard at work. “Oh, right.” He turned back to his friends. “Look, guys, I know it’s hard to believe, but I think this is on the level. It works, I’m sure of it. It’s basically the same thing I was trying to build back in the day.” He stole a quick glance at Data. “I don’t like him any more than you do, but if we get to go home, who cares? I’ve got to go. Think about it, ok?” With that he trotted off across the lab again.
Data reclaimed his chair. “So, do we believe me yet?” No one said anything, but everyone’s thoughts were obviously on the possibility.
Finally, Drums glared at him again. He’d been Data’s prisoner for quite a while at one point, and he was less willing to give than anyone. “So what you’re saying is, all we have to do to go home is help you with your whole evil world domination thing?” The words came out drenched in sarcasm, and the rest of the prisoners frowned to themselves. The price was obviously distasteful to all of them.
Data, however, seemed rather taken aback. “What? No.” He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m managing the world domination thing quite well without you all, thank you very much. In spite of you all, even.” The looks coming at him now were surprised and irritated in roughly equal portions. “No, like I said before, in this case, helping me is helping yourselves.”
Data waited for someone to ask the obvious question, not wanting to proceed until the group had given its tacit approval. “How?” Poet asked finally. Data grinned again.
“I’ve got a project in the works. To tell the truth, I’ve been planning it for quite some time, almost since you all showed up, actually. And five of you are absolutely essential.” The six heroes looked at each other, wondering at the same moment which of them wasn’t essential, and what exactly that meant.
Data gave them a second to consider the statement. “You all remember the Caretaker, I take it?”
There were nods. Poet, used to being the leader was a bit bolder than the others. “Yeah, he brought us here to stop you.”
Data cocked an eyebrow at him. “You still believe that, honestly? After all that you’ve seen?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Caretaker brought us all here, me and my people included. Why do you think that is? If he brought you here just to stop me, why did he bring me?”
Poet had obviously given the question some thought, because he had an answer ready. “He probably asked you to do something, but you got greedy and started taking over. So he brought us to set things right.”
Data gave a quick sharp laugh. “Oh, really? If that’s all it was, why didn’t he just send me home again?” He paused for a second as if expecting an answer, but before Poet could offer one he started again. “Here’s an even better question. Why did he keep sending people to help me? Hell, not long after you guys showed up, he dropped a new recruit right into the middle of a meeting I was having with the Guardsmen, right onto the table. Why would he do that?”
Poet’s mouth opened and then closed again without making a sound. “You’ve been going along all this time, thinking that you were on some sort of holy crusade with the guardian of the universe on your side, but the truth is, he isn’t on anyone’s side. He’s been playing us both against each other since the moment you arrived.” Data let that sink in for a minute.
“But why?” Geekers asked. If Data was right (which seemed probable), it meant that everything they’d seen and done since the mysterious light had dropped them into this fucked up universe had been one big lie or game or something. He didn’t want that to be true. It just couldn’t be true.
“That is the million dollar question. That is why I need your help. That is why we built this.” He pointed across the lab to where Puma and Super were working.
“You mean that’s not the thing that takes us home?” Tack asked.
Another surprised look from the Leader. “What? No. No, the thing that sends you home is about 6 or 7 feet tall, looks sort of like a phone booth. It’s up in one of the smaller labs, been finished for months and months, works like a charm. No, this, my friends, is something I’ve had super_genius working on for a long, long time. It’s finally almost done. This is a telephone.”
Drums snorted. Film_geek’s mouth fell open. “A what?”
Data looked back at them, obviously a little disappointed that his grand declaration hadn’t gotten a little more of a reaction. “A telephone, well, sort of. Look, it’s sort of hard to explain. Basically, we’ve been monitoring the Caretaker’s activity here. Every time he drops someone off or talks to someone or whatever, we can’t pinpoint it exactly. We don’t know who he is dropping where or anything, but that’s not the point. We’ve been learning about him.” Data was walking back and forth in front of them now, talking kind of quickly. “He has these powers, reality altering powers. He seems almost omnipotent, and, as you might expect, that’s the sort of thing that I’m curious about.”
Drums snorted again, but Data ignored it. “From what we’ve been able to figure out, he can do what he does because he exists on … I guess you’d call it sort of a different wavelength than the rest of us, than the reality that we know ever.” He looked at his prisoners, but they didn’t seem to get it. “I know I’m not explaining it really well. It’s insanely complex, but the main thing is, we know why he can do this stuff. He is on a different plane of existence. Actually plane is a bad word for it. I think wavelength is the best way to describe it. He sees, experiences the universe differently than we do. So he can change it in ways we don’t understand.”
“So you want his power.” Drums accused.
Data was brought up short, being interrupted in the middle of his train of thought that way. “What? No. Have you heard anything I’ve said? We don’t even think that’s possible. The human body, the human brain wasn’t designed to be able to perceive the universe like that. So maybe this guy is a member of a whole species like him or maybe he evolved to that state or maybe he really is some kind of god or something. For our purposes it’s not significant. What is significant is that we’ve found his wavelength, and with the right technology,” he pointed to the huge device again, “we can dial into it. We can call him, and he won’t be able to ignore us. We can finally get some answers.”
“How does that help us?” Tack asked.
“Because until we understand what’s really happening here, there’s no telling what he’ll do next. Think about it, I could send you home right now, and if you want I’ll do just that, but what’s to say he doesn’t scoop you right back up and send you back again? We have to understand what’s happening before we can be sure of a permanent solution.”
“And if he doesn’t want to let us stay home?” Fools asked, his voice hard.
“Then we take a more aggressive approach.” Data replied ominously. The group was quiet for a moment while everyone contemplated the meaning in that statement.
“What do you need us to do?” Poet said finally. Everyone turned to look at him. It was the first indication that they might actually be willing to go along with Data’s plan, and the Leader was visibly delighted.
“You, my dear Poet, not much. But for the rest of you, I have some very important work. Super_genius has been working on this device almost from the moment he arrived, and he assured me from the start that the task was impossible with just mechanical parts. That is where the five of you come in,” Data referred to everyone except for Poet.
Fools was the first person in line after Poet. Data approached him first. “The job we have for you is the most important, Fools. We need you to focus the signal we’re broadcasting. Without your ability to bend light to just the right frequency, we can’t hope to get to the wavelength we need.” He moved on to Geekers. “They told me that creating a substance with rapidly variable density was a physical impossibility. Apparently they didn’t check with you before making that call.”
Ren’s task was similar. Then Tack, “A sentient, mutable, non-conducting silicate. You have no idea how excited Super was when he heard about you. He was already well into the design phase, and you solved a lot of problems.” Tack couldn’t decide whether the statement deserved a smile or frown in response and got caught somewhere in the middle.
“And, Drums, without your phasing modulating Fools’ signal-bending, we won’t be able to get it where it needs to go.” He made a grand gesture with one arm. “I need all of your help if we’re going to manage this.”
“Then why have you been trying to kill us all this time?!” Tack blurted out. He himself seemed surprised at the outburst, but Data smiled wryly.
“I haven’t.”
This time incredulous or rude words flew from everyone’s lips. Data gave them a moment to let it all out. Then he held up a hand for silence. “No, seriously, I want you all to think about this. Do you honestly think that I couldn’t have killed you all by now if that’s what I wanted to do? I am the undisputed leader of the entire planet. I took on entire nations and got rid of every single one of the old heroes. What are there, like a dozen of you guys? You really think that you were just too tough for me? I’m sorry to bruise your egos, especially when I need your help, but you need to understand what’s been going on.”
“Bullshit!” Poet said again. “You’ve tried to kill us a hundred times.”
“I knew where your base in Miami was. I knew where your mountain hideaway with the Outcasts was. If I wanted you dead, all it would have taken was a couple of well-placed bombs.”
It only took Poet a second’s thought to come up with a counter-argument. “Maybe you knew by then that you needed us, but before that-“
“Before that? I had Rage on your team disguised as Jonix within a couple of hours of your arrival here, Poet. A few slit throats, and it would have been over.” Poet started to object, but Data cut him off again. “I’ll admit that at the time I didn’t know how much I was going to need you eventually, but it became clear relatively quickly. Recall, if you will, the evacuation of the city, just a couple of months after your arrival. I got everyone out. I could have nuked the city into oblivion. In fact, that’s what everyone thought I was going to do. I didn’t, because after Tack arrived I knew I was going to need you, and I was keeping you all in one place, isolated but alive. Of course I had to ‘borrow’ Ren and Drums first, because they could have escaped the city, and then I left a few hero hunters to keep you all distracted and on your toes, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.”
Foolsfolly suddenly struggled against his restraints in an attempt to lunge forward. “’Nothing we couldn’t handle’?! You son of a –“
“But you told me to kill them.” Ren said, interrupting Fools’ raging. Her voice was quiet, but insistent. “You sent me to the city and told me to kill them. Why would you…?”
Data’s smile grew sad. “I’m sorry, Ren. I know it was a little hard on you, but I needed you kept separate and safe as much as any of them. I thought you’d enjoy some cat and mouse games with your old friends.”
“But I could have …” she looked over at film_geek.
“No.” The Leader said, putting a hand on her shoulder again. She flinched back. “I see flaws, Ren, in plans, in people. Do you really think I couldn’t tell that you’d never kill your friends?”
She shook her head. “You couldn’t. You couldn’t know that. I didn’t even know that until it happened.”
“I guess you don’t know yourself as well as you think you do, then.”
She looked away from him, tears brimming in her eyes again. “Of course I never expected them to capture you.” He looked back to Poet and the others. “That was impressive, I’ll admit. Of course she wouldn’t have given you what you wanted. Rage did that. He was unstable. I knew it. That’s why he was isolated in the city too, but I guess I underestimated the damage he could do. That was a mistake. Since then I’ve been keeping tabs on you as best I could and trying to ensure that none of you got yourselves killed before we were ready here.”
There were incredulous looks all around. No one could believe that Data had planned and manipulated them to the degree that he was claiming. It wasn’t possible, was it? Before anyone could argue the point any further, Data brought the conversation to a close. “This is all beside the point. What’s important is that you’re all here now, and we’re almost ready to proceed. Super and Puma are putting the finishing touches in place now. So what do you all want to do?”
“What about the others?” Tack asked. In the midst of all these startling revelations, he hadn’t forgotten their friends.
“When we’re done here, the others will be free to go home as well. The only reason they’re not here now is that they’re not necessary for this part. Capturing and convincing them would be more time and trouble than it’s worth before we’ve gotten this taken care of.”
There were nods of acceptance all around, but Poet wasn’t ready just yet. Something still bothered him. “So you expect us to just go home and abandon all the people here, people we said we would protect from you. We’re heroes now. We can’t do that. We can’t let you declare yourself king and do whatever you want.”
Data’s face turned red, and for a moment it looked like he might lose his temper completely, but the moment passed quickly, and his demeanor became calm again. When he spoke you could tell that he was expending some effort to keep himself calm. “You cannot possibly be that dense.”
“You’ve taken over the whole planet by force. You’ve killed the old heroes, the only people they had to stand up for freedom and liberty.”
“The only people they had to stand up for chaos and insanity! I’ve made things better!”
“Tell that to the Canadians. Tell that to all the other people you’ve killed because they got in the way of your new world order.”
“Poet,” Fools began, but Poet wasn’t about to hear it.
“No! He’s playing nice now because he wants our help and then he wants us out of the way. I won’t just leave and let him go on killing anyone he doesn’t like. It’s not right.”
Data sighed for dramatic effect. “It’s not that simple. This isn’t a comic book. There isn’t a good guy and a bad guy. Even if things were that black and white, I certainly wouldn’t be the bad guy here.”
“Killing people doesn’t make you the bad guy? How do you figure that?”
“Yes, Poet, I kill people, when I have to. So do policemen. So do soldiers. Even a lot of comic book heroes kill the enemy when it’s necessary. When it’s necessary to do what is right, what is the best for the most people. Sometimes you have to get rid of the people who are standing in the way of that.”
“What you’re doing –“
“What we’re doing is bringing order and structure into a chaotic world! In places where I’m in charge, children aren’t dying from starvation. Men and women don’t drop dead from diseases that would be easily curable if pharmaceutical companies were more worried about people than about their bottom line. We don’t have poverty, crime, poor healthcare, and poor education running rampant while congressmen debate how big a pay raise to give themselves. We don’t have that because there is no debate. They don’t get a say. I do, because I can see the problems. I can see the cracks in society, and I know how to fill them.”
Poet opened her mouth to say something else, but Data cut him off yet again. “You’re so concerned with the ‘horrible’ things that I’m supposedly doing for my own personal gain? You’re so certain that I’m destroying freedom? Fine, why don’t you tell all the people being fed well for the first time in their lives that they need to go back to starving to death because you don’t like my attitude.” He took a step closer as Jedipoet defiantly met his gaze. “Insist that the millions of people finally receiving medical treatment get busy dying of easily curable diseases because you want to be the hero instead of me. Let the mothers in countries that have been torn by war for the entirety of modern history know that you’re taking their nine year old sons out of the classrooms and putting the AK-47s back in their hands because the way I do things offends your delicate sensibilities. And while you’re talking to all of those people, you take the opportunity to ask if they feel like those ends were worth what it took to get them. You ask them just how much freedom I forced them to give up before I kept my promises. I think you’ll find that given the choice between your self-righteous posturing and ‘heroic’ monologues and my leadership it won’t take them long to come to a decision.”
“You and those old heroes are nothing but agents of chaos hiding behind lofty ideals and pretty rhetoric. You’re fighting me for the people’s right to let children die of starvation. You’ve killed my people and others to ‘defend’ your own right to steal from people less powerful than you so that you can find your way home more quickly.” He looked at Ren and Fools there. Both knew fully that they’d done things with the Rogues that they were ashamed of in retrospect. “And I’m the bad guy here? So, yes, sometimes I kill people. Sometimes I torture people or kidnap them and worse than that. I won’t deny it. Hell, I’m proud of it. Because every step I’ve taken, every person that we’ve had to take out has brought us a step closer to fixing the problems with this world, the problems that everyone can see but that no one does anything about. I see them clearer than anyone, but the biggest difference is that I refuse to sit by and let them go unrepaired.”
Poet had no response. He looked at the floor, anger evident on his face, but not able to continue the argument after Data’s lengthy monologue. In fact, none of the heroes seemed inclined to respond. “And let me tell you something else, Poet. Because I bet you’re wondering why I brought you here, since I don’t need you to make the machine work.” Poet looked up at him now, curious but also a little bit afraid.
“You see, I thought that since your people were helping me place this call to the Caretaker, you guys might want your own representative on the line, and as their leader, I thought you might have a few questions of your own for our mysterious travel agent.”
He motioned to one of the guards standing behind the heroes, and the man moved to undo Jedipoet’s handcuffs. Data reached his hand out to the other man. “What do you say?” Poet looked at the extended hand for a long time, but finally he reached out and shook it with his own, sealing the bargain.
“Great. Let’s get started.”
“Has it been long enough?” GDChickoo was eager for news of Fools and the others. She’d been asking every hour. Finally, though, it looked like it was time.
“They’ve got to be there by now.” Erok said. “Puma, turn it on.”
Pumabot sent out a coded signal to activate the tiny tracking device that Erok had slipped under Poet’s collar before he’d gone out to meet Data. “Signal transmitting.” Puma said. “Location locked.” If they’d scanned the captives for tracking devices or active power sources before now, they wouldn’t have found anything because the tracker hadn’t been turned on. And if they managed to find it now, it would be too late. Erok and his people had the location already.
“Get Spider.” Erok told GD. “It’s time to get our friends back.”
In a tiny out of the way house, far off the beaten track but not far from where he knew his enemies would soon be ready, a dark figure emerged from the shadows. Two of his allies sat at the table, eating and waiting for his arrival. One of them knew him as Spectre, the other as Shadow, but both had given him their loyalty. “It is time.”
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