FANTASTIC MYSTERY, PART TWO
MIDGARD STANDARD YEAR 2200 / OCTOBER
FANTASTIC COLONIES - MEDICAL SECTOR
"See for yourself."
John Francis Saint tapped a light pad and Captain America felt his blood run cold as the room illuminated. Inside this morgue lay nineteen dead bodies - all looking exactly like Reed Richards. He walked into the room, checking each body as he went past. They were all Reed, but at different stages in his lifetime. Some were college aged, some closer to the eighty-three years that Reed was at the time of his death, most somewhere in-between.
But they were all unmistakably Reed Richards, founder of the Fantastic Four, founder of the Fantastic Colonies.
"This isn't right," Cap whispered at the horror of nineteen mangled bodies. All of the forms were grotesque, hands or legs were stretched out several feet longer than they should be, faces contorted in pain like a cartoon oddity and all bodies flattened down to less than half a body's normal width.
"It started thirty-two days ago. Found the first body in the main hangar. They've been turning up about two every three days since."
"This isn't right," Cap said again, harder.
"No, it isn't," Saint responded. "We don't know how this is happening."
"I'm not talking about the dead bodies!" Cap snapped, turning quickly on Saint. "I'm talking about you trying to cover this up! Why weren't we notified?"
Saint took a step back, "Excuse me? Since when do we have to notify you of the goings-on here at the Fantastic Colonies? We're neutral in this War, remember?"
"When it involves someone like Richards we should be brought in!" Cap turned around to look disbelievingly at the bodies. "For the love of God, Saint, didn't you realize whatever was going on here was over your head after the third or fourth body turned up?"
"Hey, listen here America!" Saint shot back, taking a stride forward. "I've been doing this gig for five years now! No one, and I mean no one, knows the FC better'n me! I'd be dead if it weren't for this place and you know it! Three years I spent in the Eternal Death Camp! Three years! I shoulda died, but this …" He hesitated, letting his anger boil as he tried to find the right words to say. "Aw hell!" he shouted, kicking at the ground. "Shit, Cap, if this gets out … do you know how hard it would be to keep our funding up? It takes money to run a place like this. I know no one likes to talk about it, but we don't run on feel good juice." Saint shook his head. "Or what do you think Thanos would do if he knew this was happening? He'd double his efforts in the biological weapons in a heartbeat. We had to keep in in-house."
"Why not tell me when I arrived? Why the secrecy then?"
"Hell, Cap, you'd have half the damn Council in here investigating this mess. I bet you've already thought about calling back to Asgard for some help with this, haven't you?"
Steve nodded, "Yes, I have."
"Well, we can't have that. Look," he waved a hand at Captain America to stop him from objecting, "I know you're feeling all righteously indignant right about now, but think for five seconds. You bring the cavalry and word gets out that something crazy is going on here. Rich old bastards stop giving us money as a tax write-off. Governments stop lending us their best scientists and their soft financing. Hell, want to take a guess at how much money we save from contributions like nuts, bolts and wires? Look at this blasted Eternal War, Cap. We attract the best scientists in the Everything because they know they can come here and do their research with the best equipment available. If it gets out that Reed Richards has shown up dead twenty times in thirty days … maybe they don't want to come here, anymore. Maybe Thanos decides that he can attack us directly now. Maybe-"
Cap cut in, "That's a lot of maybes, Saint. You and me are going to solve this in the next 24 hours or I'm bringing in outside help." Saint started to protest, but Cap cut him off, "That's the deal. Now, let's go somewhere so you can tell me everything I need to know."
ASGARD - HEIMDALL LIBRARY - FLOOR BETA
Ben-Vell Parker searched through the rows of old books on Floor Beta of the Heimdall Library, looking for a particular old book that he didn't even know existed. 'Ben had to have written about it,' he thought to himself as he quickly skimmed the titles. "Come on, where is it … Strange Days: the Final Stand of the Defenders … My Name is Madcap … Villainy Spreads it's Wings … come on, there's gotta be something here somewhere!"
"Looking for something in particular, Ben-Vell?" came a voice that caused Ben to flinch in surprise.
"Geez, Bill, you could give a guy a ruptured heart," Ben chuckled.
"No more a shock that I'd receive seeing you on Floor Beta looking for a book to read," Beta Ray Bill smiled in return. "If I had to guess, given the recent events, I'd say you were looking for information on Angelica. Specifically relating to the Goblin Legacy?"
"Yeah," Ben scratched his head, "but none of this is in order. At least, none that I can see."
"I warn you, Ben, a lot of what you will read will not be pleasant. There is tragedy and death down the Goblin lineage."
"Yeah, I know, it's just …" he shook his head, trying to find the right way to put it, " … Angel seems to think that she's some kind of danger to me. That the Goblin curse will make her, or me, I don't know … I think she's got a crush on me."
Bill shot Ben a smirk, "Really?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know she does. For a long time now, but she's … I don't know, she was always younger than the rest of us. Not a lot, but a few years. And, well, look, I'm in love with Toomi, but Angel's a good kid, a good young woman now, and I don't want her to be worried that she can hurt me. I figure if I come in here and do some reading about just what all the Green Goblins did I can go tell her that there's no need to worry."
Bill watched Ben closely for a few moments as the young man searched through more titles on the shelf. Finally, he asked slowly, "Ben, don't you think Angelica would have already done that?"
Ben turned to look at him, "I'm sure she did, but she's probably exaggerating a lot of things in her mind because she doesn't know what I'm capable of."
"Or," Bill answered, trying not to smirk at Ben's overconfidence, "maybe she knows that you have no idea what she's capable of. Your powers are great, Ben, and potentially you have the chance to change the course of this War, but you shouldn't dismiss things you know nothing about." Bill walked to a row of books next to the row Ben was currently in and reached for a large hardcover book. "Read this, it is a start."
Ben took the heavy volume in his hand, not noticing the way Bill's eyes were quickly darting over the shelves. "The Green Goblin. This all of them?" He asked the question with a smile on his face, but received only a stern look from Beta Ray Bill.
"No, Ben, that volume deals only with the original Green Goblin, Norman Osborn."
Ben looked at the thick volume disbelievingly. "But Norman was only the Goblin for what, a couple years at most? I'm not an expert on history, but I seem to remember him not being around for very long."
"He wasn't."
"Then what did you fill this book with? Pictures?"
"Read the History, Ben," Bill said as he turned to leave, giving the shelf one last quick glance. "Read it and gain an understanding of where Angelica's fear of her past comes from. Learn why Balder, Captain America, Moonstar and I fought to keep her past a secret from you and the other Orphans as long as we could."
Ben sighed, walked over to a large wooden table and sat down to read the History as Beta Ray Bill exited down the stairs. "Better be some pictures or I'll be here all week …"
FANTASTIC COLONIES - BRIEFING ROOM
Captain America sat with John Francis Saint, Ahmad Elsania and Grennan at a metal, oval conference table. He felt uneasy about this task, Saint was doing his best to pull the company line, Ahmad was young and inexperienced and Grennan was, well, Grennan was Grennan. Which was to say, a mercenary. But Steve knew what to expect out of Grennan and, since he'd joined up with the Supreme Unintelligence, he'd been nothing but above board from all accounts.
"Before we begin, Captain," Saint said sharply, looking at Grennan, "I must object once again to his presence at this meeting and on this assignment."
"Saint, I understand the … political concerns you're dealing with here, but we've got twenty dead bodies in storage and you've been unable to solve this crime in thirty days. I don't think you should complain about a little extra help." Steve held no cynicism out of his voice. He was angry: at Saint for letting it get to this point, at the politics that fueled keeping this in-station and at the whole War in general.
And, the little voice in the back of his head reminded him, at being away from Dani after so short a reunion.
The security chief started to respond, but Grennan cut him off, "Don't worry Saint, I won't tell anyone that you're such a lousy security chief people have to die repeatedly in front of you to give you a chance at catching the killer."
"Save it, Grennan," Cap admonished. "You're here because we need an extra set of eyes, that's it." The red-skinned merc gave Cap a slight nod. He knew, though it wasn't said, that Cap wanted him here because he had heightened senses. Captain America didn't lead the Avengers anymore, but he still picked soldiers for the right reasons relevant to each mission. 'Reminds me I've got some infor on that front for him,' Grennan made a mental note to himself.
"Ahmad, bring us up to speed, if you would," Cap continued.
"Sure," Ahmad agreed, taking pains to not look at Saint. The young man walked to the screen at the left end of the small room. "Open file: Security, Miscellaneous 45. Security Code A7D-dash-OOWV4." A picture of the first dead body of Reed Richards appeared on the screen with a read-out next to him that read:
VICTIM: RICHARDS, REED
SPECIES: HUMAN
BODY FOUND: PRIMARY HANGAR, SECTOR 7, 8, 11 and 12
PLACE OF DEATH: PRIMARY HANGAR, SECTOR 7 and 12
CAUSE OF DEATH: CELLULAR COLLAPSE, CEREBRAL CORTEX
TIME OF DEATH: 28/SEPTEMBER/2200, 1:41
HEIGHT: 37.82 METERS
WEIGHT: UNDETERMINED
DESCRIPTION: RICHARDS EXITED VENT 458, PRIMARY HANGAR, SECTOR 7. MADE WAY TOWARDS CENTRAL DOORS, COLLAPSED IN SECTOR 12. BODY SPASMED FOR 30 SECONDS, THEN DEFLATED AND SPREAD ACROSS FLOOR SLOWLY, BLEEDING INTO SECTORS 8 AND 11.
EYE-WITNESSES: FIVE UNION DOCK WORKERS ASSIGNED TO FC, BADGE NUMBERS: DW145, DW193, DW204, DW205, DW901.
RELEVANT SECURITY CAMERA(S): MAIN HANGAR, CAMERAS 7, 8, 21 AND 22
LEAD SECURITY OFFICER: SAINT, JOHN FRANCIS, BADGE NUMBER SC1
REPORT FILED: 28/SEPTEMBER/2200, 5:03
"As you can see," Ahmad began after giving everyone a few minutes to read over the data, "Richards-1 exited from the vent shaft - which is the size of a small rivet - at the top of the Main Hangar and headed in the direction of the main Hangar doors. What he could have been aiming for is uncertain, the doors are the only thing in that direction."
"Best we can figure," Saint added, all business now that business was at-hand, "he was just trying to get away from whatever it was he was running from - no set destination. Certainly not the hangar doors since the only on the other side of that is space. Cause of death was what ME Koka termed 'cellular collapse of the cerebral cortex'. In short, his brain turned to mush."
Grennan leaned in, becoming more intrigued, "Same cause of death in all the bodies?"
"Affirmative," Saint nodded. "Brain goes first and then the bones follow."
"It appears to travel right down the spinal column," Ahmad continued. "Process continues after death for up to an extra 24 to 26 hours."
"The big question," Captain America set the discussion, "is where are they coming from?" Cap looked around the table, first to Grennan, then Ahmad and finally resting on Saint, "Who here is creating clones of Reed Richards?" He turned to Ahmad, "Give me an overhead map of the FC, showing where all the bodies were found."
Ahmad touched the screen's inlaid digital keypad and soon Captain America had what he wanted to see. The data confirmed his suspicions and he was in no mood to draw this out. "If you draw a straight line back to the center of the FC, you'll notice that they all intersect right at the center of the Colonies. All were found in a rough circle from the center of the ship and all were found coming out of the vent system."
"And I bet," Grennan remarked, "that the vent system provides the easiest access route right back to the center of the ship. Provided you can fit through it, of course."
Captain America nodded. "All the bodies are originating, unsurprisingly, from the center of the Fantastic Colonies." Cap looked at Saint, who did his best to avoid his stare. "That's where we need to go."
"We can't," Saint said, throwing up his hands.
"Why not?" Grennan asked, shooting Ahmad a look that wondered what Saint's deal was.
"Because at the center of the FC," Cap answered, "is the original Fantastic Rocket from which the rest of the FC was built off of."
"Yeah? So?"
"So," Saint turned to look at the merc, "no one's been inside the Rocket for 170 years. It's completely locked off from the rest of the ship, except for the ventilation system. There's only one tunnel that leads there and no one's allowed to set foot in it."
Grennan looked at Cap like he thought Saint was completely mad, "I'm not getting it, Cap. We've set down on planets where there hasn't been life for centuries. What's the big deal?"
Captain America bowed his head and ran his hands through blond hair that showed just a hint of going white, "It's the final resting place of Reed Richards."
ASGARD - OBSERVATORY OF ODIN THE ONE-EYE
Most of the architecture in Asgard was low to the ground. It was rare to see a structure rise above three stories, Asgardians preferring to build outwards rather than upwards. There were a few exceptions: the Thor Hall of Peace and the Heimdall Library among them, but they paled in comparison to the ten-story high Observatory of Odin.
Beta Ray Bill walked the stairs to the top floor. The structure was built like that of a funeral pyre: the four legs were equidistant from each other on the ground and rose upwards to a point directly in the center, nine stories up, then continued along their path for another story. In the area above the intersection point, they created a glass walled room that served as the Observatory.
Directly underneath the Observatory, a round cylinder was placed, serving as the staircase that led to the top and it was in this room that Beta Ray Bill walked, as silently as he could.
He had an idea at who - and what - he would find when he entered the green and white marble-floored room. Near the top, the back-and-forth staircase emptied into a waiting area, directly under the Observatory. From here, it was a short walk up a large ramp that curved up and into the Observatory.
He found exactly what he thought he would. "Eshir," he said calmly, walking across the shining floor to the large oak table shaped like an eye in the center of the room. "It's good to see so much interest in my work," he smiled down at the scarred young Orphan. Eshir's face was scarred on it's left side, and both his hands were bitten off during a childhood incident with Ben-Vell and the Fenris Wolf, an incident from which Eshir had never fully forgiven his fellow Orphan of War.
But, unlike their friend Jonas, Eshir had at least survived the incident.
"Bill!" Eshir picked his head up in a snap. "I hadn't heard you come in."
Bill sat down opposite from Eshir, "It's the room. The Observatory is built to block out all sound, the better to concentrate during a battle and formulate plans."
"It is beautiful up here," Eshir said quietly, looking out the surrounding windows. "One can see almost all of Asgard from here on a clear day. "The Forest of Midgard is as large as it is beautiful. As beautiful as the Plains of Ida are desolate. The changing of the colors now that the end of the Earth year cycle is approaching is … breathtaking."
"Yes," Beta Ray Bill turned to look, "but their beauty can also cause problems. It's possible Thanos could work and army through the Forest without our seeing it. At least the Plains are wide open and easy to guard."
"I suppose," Eshir shook his head, depressed.
"May I ask which Histories of mine you are reading?" Bill asked, changing the subject. "It appears you have five volumes."
Eshir looked at the pile of books that lay open to various pages before him, "I'm sure you know exactly which books I have taken, by appearance if not by noticing their absence at the Dall. I must, Bill, your writing has improved greatly over the past 200 years. These most recent tomes are fascinating."
He nodded his thanks. "I noticed a volume or two was missing, but I didn't check all of the shelves," Bill admitted. "They all have to do with Angelica's family, I would guess. Excluding the large History on the clan's patriarch, which I would imagine you have already read."
Eshir nodded.
"And you have learned …?"
"Much," the young man spoke softly. "It must be a … tragic past to make peace with for Angelica." Eshir shook his head. "There are, black sheep, for the lack of a better term, in my lineage, but they are the exception and not the rule."
"You and Angelica are similar in many ways," Bill spoke. "You both come from families that have, during the age of the Marvels, a somber beginning. The difference, and you mustn't forget this, is that your family has been able to overcome the evils of Magneto, evils that he himself tried to right in his later years."
"And we always had a choice. That is what we, what I, can not forget."
"No, we can't."
"The Goblin curse isn't something the Osborns can avoid." Eshir turned to the Histories and his notepad that lay on the table. He used his power of magnetism to rifle through his notes to compensate for his lack of hands. He had done it so many times now that he rarely thought about it. "It effects, from what I can tell, 90% of all Osborn offspring. In every case where an Osborn wasn't effected, they had a sibling." Eshir picked his head up, "Discounting the instances where a child didn't live out of infancy, every single Osborn child that was an only child fell victim to the curse. Angelica, I needn't remind you, is an only child."
They locked eyes for a few moments, before Eshir turned his head to look out the window and down to Logan's Bar and Grill, where he knew Angelica to be working. "It isn't a question of if Angelica will become the next Green Goblin, Bill, it's a question of when."
FANTASTIC COLONIES - SECURITY CENTER
Ahmad breathed heavily, looking around the empty Security Center. It seemed cavernous being here solo. He'd been here alone before, of course, but tonight, knowing what was going down with the others … it was imperative none of the other guards decide to pop in for an evening visit.
Saint had to do some rearranging with the work schedule, fixing things so that both he and Ahmad would take the overnight shift together. The others knew enough not to come in to socialize at the Security Center on Saint's shift, so they should be safe. To put things even more in their favor, however, Saint had ordered extra shifts in the far reaches of the Colonies for the more socially active members of his crew.
Ahmad would have the entire Center to himself, as Saint would go on the mission into the Fantastic Rocket with Captain America. He checked his watch and punched up the security camera for the Engine Room. They'd need to go through the bowels of the Engine Room to get to what was referred to around the ship as Dead Man's Tunnel. No one would dare enter it. The workers in the Engine Room had even built an entranceway out of some metal scraps so they wouldn't have to look at it.
"So far, so good," he breathed a sigh of relief. All this intrigue was almost too much for the youngest son of King Elsaid. He was sure this wasn't what his father had in mind when he sent him here to study under Commander Saint. 'He wanted me to learn discipline, not rewire the security net so no alarms go off when Captain America and Commander Saint enter Dead Man's Tunnel.'
Ahmad had just stopped thinking about his dad and just started wondering where Grennan was when he saw Saint and America walk past a security camera. They were heading to the very bottom of the basement.
"Time to reconfigure that security system," Ahmad said under his breath as he went to work. "Why do I think this is all going to blow up in our collective faces?"
FANTASTIC COLONIES - LIBRARY SECTION SIGMA
Grennan walked the hallways of the Fantastic Colonies keeping to himself as best he could. When Cap had asked him to be a part of this, he had accepted immediately. The rest of his crewmates were either recuperating in one of the medical centers, sweet talking some nurses and female doctors or trying to hustle some docs out of their credits in a game of cards. The Fantastic Colonies didn't have much in the way of an active nightlife, they learned to their great displeasure.
And it was made even worse by the discoveries of all these dead bodies. While Saint hadn't let out the identity of the victims, rumors floated throughout the station, putting everyone on edge. That, comvined with the truly cavernous quality of the FC made everything seem all the creepier.
The residents of the Fantastic Colonies were either single doctors, young families or doctors old enough for all the kids to be gone from the house. There were lots of playgrounds, restaurants and movie houses but they were centrally located in each of the sectors so if you didn't turn down that one particular corridor, you'd never even know they were there. After the week they'd been docked here they were just about ready to move on. One of the workers at the hangar deck had told them that there was a strong rumor making the rounds that Makkari had been seen over on Kelman, a small planet in the Andromeda Galaxy.
And the price on his head was worth the trip out there and the risk they'd encounter if they found him.
Grennan nodded to a particularly beautiful scientist as he passed, who darted her eyes to the floor to avoid eye-contact. Rolling his eyes, he wondered what, exactly, Cap hoped for him to accomplish. The chances of him actually finding one of these dying Richards was next to impossible, heightened senses or not. The Fantastic Colonies were as large as a city.
Best he could figure was that he wanted someone to know the score here in case something went wrong. Grennan didn't think there was any chance in the world that Captain America was going to be in trouble with whatever it was they found, but he knew that Cap would plan for every contingency.
Or maybe he just wanted a non-FC crewman around if things went down. It didn't take someone with heightened senses to sense the general uneasiness that had crept into this facility and Cap couldn't have been anymore impressed by the security here than he was. Saint was a good soldier and a decent security officer, but his crew was mostly kids. 'Ahmad's a damn Prince,' he shook his head. 'I doubt being raised in the royal palace trained him to handle crisis situations.'
Ahmad was supposed to let him know if anything happened so he could get there as quick as possible, but he figured Saint would tell the kid to not tell him anything.
Turning to watch the cute female doctor walk down the hall away from him, Grennan wished he was down in the Tunnel. At least there'd be some action down there.
FANTASTIC COLONIES - ENGINE ROOM
Captain America and Commander Saint walked through the bottom floor of the FC's engine room. Steam and grease covered everything in site and the steady humming became unnoticeable after a few moments.
Steve let Saint walk him through the corridors, past the boilers and the garbage compactors. A lot of the equipment down here had been supplemented by newer, more efficient models but they kept this level running as a back-up feature and to power some of the older sections of the FC. Part of what made the FC so interesting was that new sections were being added all the time, so travelling back towards the center was like stepping back through nearly 200 years of space technology. Another time, Cap might take that stroll down memory lane, but tonight was all business.
The Fantastic Rocket was their destination, at the heart of the FC, the final resting place of Reed Richards.
Saint was quiet as they walked past the heavy, steaming machinery. He'd spent three years in an Eternal Death Camp, poisoned with some slow-acting virus that Thanos had developed. They had left Saint and over 100 others there to do with little more than bread and water. Beta Ray Bill had discovered them during a recon mission and arranged transport for them to the FC.
Out of all of the prisoners, only ten survived through to arrival at the FC and they were going fast. The scientists here located the virus and created a cure for it within a few days. Saint and the others stayed on as staff in gratitude.
Last Cap had heard, three of them ended up committing suicide. They couldn't live with the knowledge of those three years - watching people slowly dying with no chance at survival, only to end up surviving themselves.
"Just a little ways further," Saint said uneasily. "You've got to understand," he said without turning around, "what Richards means to these people here. To have a hero, one of you Marvels, nonetheless, turn his back on War and become a pacifist … I know you don't agree with what he did, but there are others who do."
Steve didn't respond right away. It was true, he knew, that he didn't agree with Reed's decision. "You have to understand," he reasoned back, "that this was in the first days of the Eternal War. Titan had just fell - and I mean by less than a month - when he announced to everyone that he wasn't going to fight." Cap shook his head, "In the end, he's done more good here than he ever could have fighting alongside us, but …"
"But you can't get over the fact that he never joined your side officially."
He let the words hang in the air as they approached a ten foot high metal box that stuck out from the wall.
"We can pull the front off easily," Saint said, going to stand on one side and motioning for Cap to head to the opposite side. "Let's hope Ahmad has the proper alarms shut off. Ready?" he asked.
Cap nodded and they slid the front slab towards Saint, enough to create a hole that they could walk through. He looked across at Saint before they stepped into the darkness.
"I respect Reed Richards tremendously," Cap said slowly. "I respect what he has accomplished. We owe the Fantastic Colonies a debt we can never repay. But he let his grief and his science consume him."
Saint shrugged, "However you want to put it." He looked into the tunnel as stale air washed out towards them, "This place is supposed to be haunted. You ready for this?"
Captain America nodded, "The better question is, are you?"
Saint took a step forward into Dead Man's Tunnel, "Absolutely not."
NEXT ISSUE:
FANTASTIC MYSTERY, PART THREE
-- MBQ …24.February.2000
No comments:
Post a Comment