//|| //^^\\ || || .|. COHERENT COMICS UNINCORPORATED PRESENTS // || \\ || || --X--------------------------------------------- //======================= '|` ACADEMY OF SUPER-HEROES #14 // || \\ || || "Academic Year" // || \\__// || || Copyright 1999 by Dave Van Domelen ___________________________________________________________________________ [cover shows the LNH 2024 students posed as if for a yearbook picture. AJ is at the center, with Nate Walker and Boomer flanking him. Tawny stands in front of AJ, slightly dwarfed by him. A white-gloved hand is making "rabbit ears" behind Nate's headm but the arm attached to it is blurry.] ACADEMY OF SUPER-HEROES ROLL CALL CODENAME REAL NAME POWERS STATUS -------- --------- ------ ------ Solar Max Jonathan Zachary Spacetime Control ACTIVE "JakZak" Taylor Meteor Sarah Grant-Taylor Superspeed ACTIVE Gawain Salvatore Napier Superstrength ACTIVE Contact Aaron Zander and Psi, Mind-over-Body ACTIVE Paul Mahler Scorch Scorch Pyrokinetic ACTIVE Channel George Sylvester Energy Transmutation ACTIVE Essay Sara Ana Rodriguez Gadgeteer ACTIVE Peregryn Howard Henderson Jr. Elemental Mage ACTIVE Lightfoot Tom Dodson Velocity Control PROBATION LEGION OF NET.HEROES 2024 ROLL CALL CODENAME REAL NAME POWERS CLASS STATUS -------- --------- ------ ------------ Netwalker Nate Walker Internet Telepathy Grade 14 (Soph) Dervish Alaric Muhammed Enhanced Strength Grade 14 (Soph) "AJ" Jackson and Reflexes Boomer Michael Hodgson Gadgeteer Grade 13 (Frsh) Lurker Tabitha Pierce Telepath, Psionic Grade 14 (Soph) "Tawny" Adams Invisibility ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ RECAP What's Happened Since Last Issue Actually, most of what happened elsewhere in the crossover happened *during* ASH #13, not after it, but here's a brief summary: Peregryn, C.J. Brown and Jen Kleinvogel managed to thwart a plot by Caryatid of the CSV to kill Warden with a golden golem called a Weregild, when Peregryn dispersed the golden statue the magic was bound to. In the process, the trio also captured Caryatid, and Peregryn managed to place a mystic tracer on paragang leader Cockatrice [Warden #8]. The magic, however, was only displaced and found a new home in the bronze statue of Atlas at Rockerfeller Plaza [Warden #9], requiring many large explosions to stop it. Meanwhile, EUROPA and the remains of STRAFE clashed with the Conclave of Super-Villains around and in the sunken city of Haven, former home-away-from- home of many of the 20th Century's supervillains. Both sides suffered losses and injuries, with the villains Rebus and Peryton being captured [STRAFE #5 and CSV #5]. It was revealed that Rebus wanted to kill all the world's Anchors besides himself, in the belief that he would inherit their abilities and become a living embodiment of the Barrier. At the end, Peregryn's team reported in and revealed that they were safe. ============================================================================ Tom half-listened to the instructor, his hands taking notes almost automatically while his mind wandered. Despite having been out of structured instruction for over a year his time (and over a generation realtime), old habits came back quickly. Everything came quickly to him, of course...that was his power as Lightfoot. He made things go fast. Unfortunately, he couldn't make the lecture go fast. It was a constant of nature...the first day of class almost always went the whole period, no matter how much the students felt it should end early. He mentally kicked himself for thinking a class in modern literature would be fun and enlightening...from the syllabus it looked like they'd be halfway through the semester before hitting works written after 1994, the year he left Earth for his thirty second trip across thirty years. He'd already READ Song of Solomon in high school, darn it. Well, more time to socialize, something he really needed to get back into. And one thing hadn't changed in this brave new world...literature class equalled majority-female classroom. Even better, since there were no non-traditional students at the Academy...non-traditional in terms of age, anyway...most of the women were single. And they were all in good shape, thanks to the physical training that was a part of life in the school for superhumans. And maybe this wouldn't be such a bad class after all, he perked up. The third attractive face he checked out turned out to be checking him out in return, and he blushed slightly. Then he cursed under his breath for blushing like a teenager. Okay, he WAS a teenager, but he liked to think he'd grown up a lot in the couple of years he'd had his powers. To cover his embarrassment, Tom faced front and paid rapt attention to the instructor, learning some fascinating things about the literary criticism movement as it evolved in the post-deconstructionist era of the 2010s. Okay, it was dull as lint, but something about the way that girl...no, she was definitely a woman...looked into his eyes unsettled him. And not necessarily in a bad way, which really worried him. He'd seen that look before, in his old teammate Ravenfire's eyes, just not directed at him. He blushed again. Now, of course, the hands on the clock moved quite rapidly. Somehow, he knew she was still looking at him, but he didn't dare check to be sure. He felt like she'd notice it, even if he moved at hypersonic speed. Tom knew he could get out of the classroom before she could walk up and start a conversation with him, as he was certain she would, but did he *want* to avoid this? The counselors had told him he needed to get back into social situations and not just hang around the other members of ASH...maybe this would work like jumping into a cold pool rather than slowly dipping in? Well, except "cold" wasn't really how he felt at the moment. Other than his feet, of course. Hah. Not Lightfoot anymore, he was Coldfeet. "Hi," came a voice from behind him. Tom nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd been so distracted wondering what to do after class that class had ended without him noticing. He turned around. It was her. "H-hi," he stammered, his childhood stutter coming back in full force. "You're Tom Dodson, right?" she asked, with just a hint of celebrity- awe in her voice. The questioning tone was deceptive...he could tell from her stance and expression that she knew exactly who he was, and wouldn't have even come over if she wasn't sure. He nodded dumbly. "I'm Beth Willot," she put out her hand for him to shake. Tom took it as he stood from the desk, feeling a slight electric tingle on her flesh. Beth noted his raised eyebrow. "Sorry," she grinned, "should have warned you. I've got electromagnetic powers, sometimes I have trouble damping them down totally in this dry winter air...okay, that's a lie," she admitted. "I deliberately charge up just a little when I shake hands. It's a little psychological trick I worked out, like how strong guys tend to squeeze your hand a little too hard." She grinned. "Let me guess...Psych major?" Tom smirked. One of his friends in high school had taken psychology as an elective, and spent the next couple of months playing mind tricks. "Guilty as, ah, charged," Beth winced. "Pun most definitely not intended...I got sick of electricity puns years ago. Come on, gotta clear out the room...where you headed next?" Tom grabbed his computerized notepad...a definite improvement over the stack of books he'd had to lug around in high school. Of course, being under a roof between classes was an improvement too, his high school had been built on a sort of California open plan like an academic strip mall. Nice idea, but Missouri has this thing called bad weather. "I'm open through lunch. Taking a light load this term, still doing a lot of independent study to catch up on the basics," he followed Beth out of the lecture hall and into the underground passage outside. It was still somewhat weird to be here as a student rather than delivering captured supervillains to incarcerate. Still, they'd done a pretty good job making the old Pit look like it wasn't a jail anymore. Beth nodded. "I have a class in a few minutes, but maybe we could meet for lunch?" "Sure," Tom replied, hoping he could keep the stammer away. "Hey, I just realized...you don't act like a Frosh. Why're you taking a general ed class like lit survey?" Beth winked and smiled. "To meet people," she laughed, then turned and hurried down the hall, leaving Tom to scratch his head. * * * * George "Channel" Sylvester glanced around the conference room, at the faces of his teammates and assorted allies. You could really tell who had gotten the bad end of things in the past few weeks just by looking at them. Scorch, God love him, was as chipper and sarcastic as always. Sal looked vaguely distraught, but he'd been in a funk for much of the past year or so, and nothing seemed to shake him out of it for long. But for once, Sal wasn't the most "down" person at the table...JakZak was still beating himself up over the deaths in Vegas he'd been unable to prevent. The rest of the core team spread out somewhere on the spectrum between JakZak and Scorch, with Peregryn being at dead center, imperturbed and totally neutral in expression, as always. Tom was off at the Academy, but his mission had almost been fun, so he only felt second-hand guilt like most of the team. On the other hand, Nate Walker's face was a mess of conflicting emotions. He was obviously thrilled to be part of a real, honest-to-God superhero mission. But he was also worried that he'd screw up somewhere, or act like an idiot and alienate everyone (no worry of being the biggest boob in any room containing Scorch, though). Not to mention showing signs of guilt and concern over what happened New Year's Eve. He felt a little of the guilt JakZak was coveting, since he thought he should have been able to find something in the Desert Poseidon's computers to suggest the trap that was sprung. Not that he could have...it was a totally separate system that triggered the nerve gas, linked only to Skyhaven. "If the casino owners are satisfied you've cleaned up anything you had to bash through in their computer systems, Nate, then I guess your part in this mission is done for now," JakZak said as George's attention returned to the debriefing. "You can get back to the Academy and catch up on any of the course work you missed. Especially from Professor Yang," he grinned. Nate groaned. "I hadda get the Yanginator," he sighed. Then the earnestness snapped back into his features. "I've got one more thing before I go back, though. Something in the Desert Poseidon's system." "Hm?" JakZak cocked an eyebrow. "When I was trying to crack into the system and see if it'd been compromised already, something blew right past me OUT of the system. I was concentrating too hard on getting in to get a good scan of it, but it was a rather huge file. It tore out of there like a bat outta hell. My best guess at the time was that it was carrying backup files to a remote location in the event the owner needed to evacuate." "But...?" Aaron asked, although you didn't need to be a telepath like him to figure that Nate doubted his initial guess. "But later, when I checked the time that program zipped out against the time of death of the Anchors, I realized it didn't go out until they were all dead. And none of them were reported to be wearing any medical monitors that might have triggered a deadman switch," Nate added. "So, you think something in their system was being Anchored, and when the Anchors all died," Aaron cast a cautious glance at JakZak, apparently having picked up some strong feelings from that direction, "something was let loose?" "Something nasty," Nate nodded. "I've run into a few Khadamite AI's in my explorations of the 'Net, they may have developed some sort of sick fusion of artificial intelligence and a human spirit...a ghost in the machine. Like that Weregild thing in Manhattan, but in circuits rather than statues." Peregryn steepled his fingers. "It's possible. If you encounter this thing again, however, do *not* attempt to confront it, or even dally to gather information. Notify me, and I will attempt to verify its nature as quickly as I am able." "Fine, it'll give you and your 'Legion of Net.Heroes' something to watch out for," JakZak nodded. "Now scoot, you have some packing to do." Nate nodded, grinning, and left the conference room of the Chicago ASH base. "Since he brought the Weregild up, any progress to report, Peregryn?" JakZak asked. It had taken a while, but now almost everyone called Howard Henderson Jr. by his chosen codename, even in casual settings. It helped that he now tended to simply ignore anyone who addressed him as "Howard." "The spirit motivating the Weregild itself has definitely either dispersed or hidden so completely that I cannot sense it. Unfortunately, its second rampage left a great deal of mystic haze over Manhattan, and I'm still having trouble focusing on the tracer spell I cast over Cockatrice. Until we can locate the paragang leader precisely enough to capture her before her forces can be marshalled, the line of investigation must remain on hold. There is a definite link between the various players in this game beyond the stated ones...something tells me Tyra Dumont is more than simply a coincidental figure in this." "Anything we can go on as an excuse to question her further?" JakZak asked. "Or have Aaron and Paul scan her?" Peregryn shook his head. "Just a feeling that this tangled skein is more orderly than it appears. In any case, I will continue to attempt to penetrate the haze over Manhattan. If necessary, I will make a second visit to Metapsych's local headquarters. Cockatrice is tied up in the Conclave of Super-Villains somehow, and we should reach her before the Conclave does, or before she succumbs to the paragang violence." "Or to Warden," Paul added, speaking with his voice from Aaron's throat. "Indeed." Scorch sat up in his chair. "What *is* it with Manhattan, anyway? Seems like they have more supernormals running around in gang colors than the Academy has down in the Pit. We should just go in there and clean the place out...give 'em the choice of the Academy or the Cavity," he snorted, referring to the new facility which had been built to house supernormal criminals. "It's not that easy," Paul replied. "First off, it'll take more resources than we have right now...it's a huge problem that the government ignored when it was small because no one 'decent' lives in Manhattan anymore. And because it seemed at first like just a bunch of kids blowing off steam." "But the kids have grown up, and Manhattan is looking usable again," JakZak interrupted. "Or it would be, if large sections of it weren't being blown up in fights against paragangers or between paragangs." He paused, and looked around the room with an even more serious expression. "This information doesn't leave the room for now. Got it? Okay. DSHA has decided that as soon as the next full class of grads is ready...maybe one more class after that if the next class looks small...we're opening a branch of ASH in Manhattan, specifically to deal with the paragang problem. I'm told someone will be approaching Warden as well at some point, to offer him amnesty if he'll join up, but there's some debate higher-up about whether he should be let off the hook." "He's not a criminal," Paul protested. "No, he's not. But he might be part of the problem, and that's what the brass has to decide," JakZak replied grimly. "Either way, the wheels are turning pretty slowly on this one. We're not likely to see any firm decisions in the near future. They've written the whole Weregild event off as part of the CSV problem, so the paragangs haven't moved up much on the DSHA's 'to do' list." "Maybe we should move it up on our list?" Scorch suggested. "No. The situation's too volatile to go charging in on our own. It'll be risky enough to go in and nab Cockatrice," JakZak leaned forward and glared at Scorch. "Taking her out will probably set off a power struggle. If we're lucky." "And if we're not?" Sarah asked, breaking her silence. "Then we got a whole pile of gangs van a quebrar culo on us," Essay answered grimly. "Gonna bust ass." "Maybe if we just nuke Manhattan...?" Scorch suggested. * * * * "Come on, you can't avoid him forever," Boomer chided, nudging Netwalker from behind. "I don't have to...two more years should do the trick, maybe three," Nate replied, trying to edge back further around the corner. "I managed to stay out of his way the week we were both at the ASH Chicago base, and the Academy's a lot bigger." AJ and Tawny simply rolled their eyes and kept their peace. Boomer and Nate had been having this argument almost nonstop since Nate got back from Chicago the other day. Back in September, Netwalker had played a prank on Lightfoot as payback for having killed off one of his favorite characters in the Legion of Net.Heroes, back in the 1990s when Dodson had been writing online fiction ["Lightfoot and Thunderbolt" - Ed.]. Having decided Nate went too far, Lightfoot evened the scales by publicly humiliating the prankster. "Come on," Boomer chided. "If he still held a grudge, don't you think he could have made your life miserable? He's a speedster, they can out-prank just about anyone when they put their minds to it." "Well...I guess," Nate finally caved in to the incessant arguments. "That's the spirit," Boomer beamed. "We'll be right behind you all the way. Just outside the blast radius, of course," he grinned. "Gee, thanks," Nate snarled as he stepped around the corner into the cafeteria. The foursome attracted little notice, people were used to seeing them together...although a few students with longer memories and quicker brains looked from them to Lightfoot, who was just finishing up a large meal. A few moved away, a few moved closer, such is the nature of humanity, even super-humanity. Impending doom brings out a variety of reactions. "Hi, Nate," Tom looked up from his plate and smiled beatifically. "Find any more archive sites lately?" Nate chuckled nervously. "Er, heh, yeah, that...no hard feelings still?" Tom shook his head. "I don't get mad, I get even. And I already got even." Nate flushed a little, as he realized he'd been firmly put in his place in the pecking order by a frosh. "So, um, why're you here now?" he asked, changing the subject. "I mean, why not last semester?" Tom motioned for the four to sit down, which they did. "I spent my free time last year getting caught up to my grade level again, learning the stuff that's expected of high school graduates. My math and science were pretty much up to snuff, but I had a lot of catching up to do on history, politics and consumer-level technology, plus pop culture. Little things, like finding out that Disco came back in the 2010s just like swing came back in the late 1990s after I...left. Disco...brrr. Glad I got to miss it twice." "Hey, what's wrong with disco?" Boomer asked. "Do you want the full list, or just the one that ends at 'causes cerebral aneurisms in lab rats?'" Tawny smirked. "What's the thing that gets to you most about the Future?" Boomer asked, his tone conveying the capitalization of "future." "The government, the lack of older heroes, the nearly total changeover in media stars...?" "The pollution," Tom replied quickly. Even AJ raised an eyebrow at this. "Oh, there's a lot less of it now," Tom quickly added. "But it's still out there, and now it's different. More ozone, less hydrocarbons. And a few odd smells I still can't place. I suppose you hardly notice it, since it's not a strong smell and you're used to it. But I went from diesel fumes in 1994 to ozone and whatever in 2023 in the space of an hour, and it still throws me." "Probably the additives used in ethyl alcohol fuel," Boomer hypothesized. "They finally found a way to make almost pure alcohol burn well in car and truck engines without the long warmup time and other problems, a synthetic catalyst derived from benzene, I think. But not as toxic. Still not safe to drink, though." He shrugged. "I'm more hardware than chemware," he said, referring to his gadgeteering skills. "Well," Tawny said, focusing on Tom, "now that we're all chatty and no one's in imminent danger of being strung up by his underwear, I'd like to know something." Tom chuckled. "That is?" "Where's Beth Willot? You two have been together every time I've seen you in the past couple of weeks. I knew you were fast, but *really*!" she gasped in mock shock. Tom flushed red. "It's n-not like that," he stuttered slightly. "I mean, I wouldn't mind if it *were* like that," he recovered, "but it's not. She's more interested in me as a psychological subject, I think. Besides, I get the impression she's seeing someone else. No one at the Academy, though, she's never actually broken off to go see him. Or her, I suppose...we haven't really talked about that sort of thing at all." A sly grin crossed Tawny's face. "Hmmm, an outside fling? Maybe someone she met when she went home for the holidays. Oh, and it'd be a guy, I'm almost positive. Ahhh, new grist for the rumor mill." "That's our Tawny," Nate smirked. "I'm amazed she doesn't get in trouble for violating privacy with her telepathy, she's such a gossip." Tawny biffed Nate on the head with a rolled up napkin. "I don't abuse my powers like that, unlike SOME PEOPLE," she stared into Nate's eyes. "But anything I find out via mouthspeak is fair game. Besides, it's saved your sorry butt from bad blind dates more than a few times...remember Melinda?" Nate winced in an obvious "How could I forget?" expression. "I concede the point," he sighed. "Anyway, on subjects less romantic, although perhaps not, are you ever gonna pick up with your LNH writing?" Tom shook his head. "Doubt it. A lot of that was the people involved, and the world we lived in. Both are gone now. Oh, I'll probably pick up the pen again soon, indulge my muse, so to speak. These computer pads make it *really* easy to do stuff other than take notes during class, and I've got a bit of a snoozer this term. Besides, I can always compose in bursts between important bits in class...one of the advantages of speed powers. It's like I have those mythical 100-hour metric days." He grinned. * * * * The ASH bases scattered around the North American Combine were all designed to accomodate the full team full time, with apartments for each member of the Academy of Super-Heroes. In practice, each of the heroes tended to establish one particular headquarters as "home," decorating the apartment more fully and settling in. As he poked his head into the open door to Peregryn's Chicago dwelling, Aaron wondered if the team's mage simply hadn't decided on a "home" base, or if this was as lived-in as any of the man's apartments would get. Rather spartan, the only non-standard addition was a portable library. "JakZak said you wanted to see me?" he asked when he spotted Peregryn sitting over in the corner of the room. The mage turned about slowly and deliberately, as if coming out of meditation. "Ah, yes, Contact. I've determined that there's nothing more I can do from here about the mystic haze over Manhattan...it doesn't seem to be lessening. Since you have the most experience with that city, via Paul, I'd like you to accompany me there tomorrow, Saturday at the latest...I want to resolve this before the end of January." Contact nodded. "My schedule's free until the third, then I have to fly out to New Jerusalem for a PR appearance...saving the city and everything. I'll get packed, you think you can finish in a week?" "If I cannot, I may have to enlist the imprisoned Caryatid's aid, in which case Solar Max could take over for you and help me keep her in check. I will engage a helijet while you pack, we can leave later today," Peregryn started to stand. "Um, wait. Before we go, I'd like to know something. Why are you using some kind of anti-telepathy spell?" Aaron asked. "One of the Conclave of Super-Villains is a telepath. I felt it would be prudent to erect defenses," Peregryn replied. "Fine, but you've had those defenses up all the time for the past month or so," Aaron countered. "At least, every time I've been around. To me, that says you're worried about accidentally broadcasting something...and next to Grind, you have about the most disciplined mind I know. You've never accidentally blurted out your thoughts so that I could pick them up. Besides, I don't need telepathy to tell you're trying to keep something secret. You're a lot more tight-lipped lately, even for you. What's the deal?" Peregryn paused, letting silence fill the room as he considered his answer. Finally, "You're right. When I sat upon Odin's chair in Manhattan, I was privy to a number of terrible secrets. Information which would bring...needless harm should it come to light prematurely. It has weighed more and more upon me recently, to the point where I could no longer trust myself to keep it buried in my thoughts." "If they're that important, shouldn't you tell someone? Solar Max, at least?" "I said they were terrible, not earth-shaking. They will keep for the time being," Peregryn sighed. "Perhaps the secrets will reveal themselves in the fullness of time...no secret lives forever, and I would rather not be the one to slay this secret." Another uncomfortable pause followed. "Go. Pack. I will meet you on the roof." "Fine." Aaron waited a beat, then left, the door hanging open behind him. Peregryn started to turn to his computer terminal when he heard a familiar clip-clopping of hooves in the hallway. A moment later, a horned and bearded face appeared in the doorway. "Hello, Peter," Peregryn sighed. "I still won't make a love potion for you." "Ah, I don't need one anyway...I'm already too much man for any five ladies to handle." The satyr stepped into the room and shut the door. "These big ears pick up lots of interesting stuff, like your little chat with my pal Aaron." "And...?" "You figured out the oracle [from ASH #10 - Ed.], didn't you? And you don't want Aaron to hear the interpretation you sussed out." Peregryn's eyes widened in moderate surprise, then he quickly recovered. "No, I did not 'figure out' his oracular vision." "The eyes say you lies," Peter waggled a finger. "Okay, maybe you didn't get the info from the oracle, maybe you got it from somewhere else. Me, I've been around that oracle long enough t' figure out what it means most of the time. I didn't get it when he had the vision, but now that I know more of the backstory on him, it's pretty plain." "Have you...?" "Told him? Of course not! I've also been around long enough to know you don't tell someone what his oracle means, it's bad juju. And it'll probably get you killed as the bearer of bad news. If the oracle wanted people to get easy answers, it wouldn't be so cryptic...who am I to argue with the Delphic Oracle?" Peter protested. "And he hasn't picked it up from your surface thoughts?" Peter smirked. "I'm a satyr, Howie. My surface thoughts would make your ears catch fire. Aaron's learned to block me out. No worries there." Peter turned and put his hand on the door, then added, "Besides, as long as he thinks Paul's really still alive in there, there's less competition for the ladies." And with a leer, he was out the door and gone. ============================================================================ Next Issue: Honestly, I can't really say. Some of the plot threads from this issue might be picked up over in Warden, some over in CSV. We're playing it a little looser now that the official crossover is over. ============================================================================ Author's Notes: Oddly, this issue was almost entirely devoted to helping set up future plot developments in other ASH Universe titles, although some of these developments are admittedly quite FAR in the future (keep an eye out for a possible Time Capsules story by Badger that's being tinkered with). The one scene that's totally ASH-related is the last one...and if you don't "get it," then you'll have to wait until Contact figures things out. }-> For those scoring the timeline at home, this issue takes place over most of the month of January, 2024. Classes at the Academy resumed Monday, January 8. Tom Dodson is a real person who was in my gaming group in college (he was in junior high at the time). Lightfoot is based loosely on him, but since I haven't heard from Tom since 1992 I can't say if I correctly guessed how his personality would be at 18. }-> Not that Tom has superpowers in real life. Boomer, AJ and Tawny of the LNH 2024 were created by Austin "Powers" Loomis, who will probably hit me for the name in quotes.