//|| //^^\\ || || .|. COHERENT COMICS UNINCORPORATED PRESENTS // || \\ || || --X--------------------------------------------- //======================= '|` ACADEMY OF SUPER-HEROES #36 // || \\ || || "Cross of Gold" // || \\__// || || Copyright 2002 by Dave Van Domelen ___________________________________________________________________________ [cover shows Channel, in his ASH uniform, spread-eagled across the open palm of the giant Weregild, held by glowing mystic fetters. The caption reads "The price of a man...."] ROLL CALL 21st Century: George Sylvester Energy Transmutation Julie Sylvester Normal, George's older sister Scott "Scorch" Handleman Pyrokinetic Sarah Grant Superspeed 38th Century Pilot Jenkins Enhanced physical abilities, host for George's spirit Major Tad Sanders Telepath, Javelin carrier group commander Rear Admiral Rodrik Normal, commander of Earth's defenses Captain Darius Telepath, commander of Atlatl-B's Javelins Grid Bayushi Normal, Javelin pilot ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [3734.1.29 - Light Carrier Atlatl-B, Earth Orbit] "Darius, I want everything out the door yesterday!" Major Sanders shouted into his communicator as the image of the Weregild continued to grow on the screen. A giant golden figure, its perfection unmarred by millennia underground, it had been brought to life on a mission of death. And now that it had demonstrated its ability to fly through space, the safety buffer everyone had been counting on was gone. "Permission to join the scramble?" George asked. "Out of the question," Rodrik snapped. "If you're who you say you are, you're not trained on the Javelin. And your knowledge is more useful here." "Admiral, I've told you pretty much everything useful that I know about that thing," George retorted. "And I have access to all of Pilot Jenkins's memories and skills...trust me, I won't be useless out there." "He's right, sir," Major Sanders added, casting a nervous glance at the Weregild's image. "And Jenkins is an Uber, probably one of the only pilots we have who could survive playing tag with that thing." "Very well," Rodrik growled. "Get him to a ship. But you're to avoid engaging the enemy unless directly ordered," he stared pointedly at George. "You got that?" "Yes, sir," George threw a salute and dashed out the door toward the hangar. As he ran, he heard the cold, calm voice of Darius over the comlink on his collar tab. "This is not a stealth mission, so there will be no comm silence. Operate on plan beta." His borrowed memories told him that plan beta meant to fall back on the training that assumed no telepathic contact among units...they'd all had such training before joining the Javelin wings, but it got rusty once everyone was used to telepathic bonding. It also meant that the telepaths were going to be busy with something else, or they'd have just used the normal telepathic network. They'd probably be trying to contact the Weregild mentally. He reached the hangar just as Grid Bayushi was sealing her cockpit and triggering the launch sequence, and felt a pang of regret. Jenkins and Grid had an on-again-off-again romance, which had naturally been "on" when George showed up, forcing it off. And now he might get Jenkins killed out there. Sometimes it sucked to be a hero. He quickly ran through the preflight checklist as he listened to the operations channel. Cruisers and the UWMH Invincible were firing on the Weregild with lasers and missiles, their accuracy utterly frightening. Their target had none of the usual countermeasures, and it was within what was considered point blank range, mere light-milliseconds in some cases. The Weregild was unharmed, although the missile barrage was bouncing it around a bit and slowing its advance. The lasers were actually being reflected at random angles by the polished golden Collapsauron. Not good. The Javelin launched, the gee forces pressing George back in his seat. It felt like the acceleration of a fast car, even though he'd set the catapault to 10G. It was kinda nice to have physical powers for once. Not that his own body was exactly wimpy, but he was no Dan Tracey. Then, inexplicably, everything went dark for a moment.... * * * * [April 23, 2006 - Springfield, Illinois] Julie sighed in exasperation as she threw armloads of clothing into a cardboard box. "This SO sucks." "Why?" George asked, as he pondered his teddy bear, wondering if he was too grown up to need it anymore. He was six, after all. "Dad says there'll be more kids in Chicago." Julie grabbed the bear and stuck it in a box marked "Toys" in red marker. "More isn't always better, squirt. I *like* it here, I finally got some friends after the last move. It's not as easy in 7th grade as it is where you are, George. You kids'll play with whoever, whenever, it doesn't matter. But I'm in the big leagues now, and it's gonna be REALLY hard to get into things after losing most of a year on everyone else in Chicago." George thought about that for a moment. He didn't think it was quite so easy for him as Julie thought. He'd been pretty lonely last year until Adrian had decided to include George in his group. But he knew Julie enough to not say anything about it. She wouldn't think it was the same. "It'll be okay," George tried his best to sound adult. "Dad's getting a better job, so is mom. Putting the city back together." She snorted. "Sure, and we'll see even less of them than we do now. I suppose at least we *have* a mom and a dad," she ended somewhat somberly. George nodded, although he didn't really understand. Most of hs friends had a mom and a dad, although a lot of them had older...what was it? Oh yeah, half-brothers and half-sisters. He couldn't help but giggle at the image he'd first had when hearing that word, people split down the middle and walking around without half their body. "What's so funny?" Julie demanded, hauling another load of clothing. "Nothing." In fact, he felt kinda bad about laughing. A lot of Julie's friends didn't have any parents at all. Something bad happened before he was born, but no one seemed to want to talk about it much. Once in a while, Julie would say something, but she'd only been four when it happened, so she didn't remember much. "Whatever. Where'd that tape go?" Julie stalked out of the room in search of the packing tape. George walked over to the box marked "Toys" and slowly pulled the teddy bear out. Maybe he'd hold onto it a little longer. He could be grown up when he was seven, instead. * * * * [3734.1.29 - Near Earth] George shook his head to clear it as the Javelin flew free of the Atlatl-B. Okay, maybe he wasn't as good at handling acceleration as he thought, if he was having blackouts complete with flashbacks. A course heading flashed on his control panel, transmitted by Darius. He was to take an evasive path away from Earth, head for the L4 libration point and hold station until ordered otherwise. In the distance, he could see the flashes of missile strikes telling him where the Weregild was. It seemed to be veering away from the Atlatl-B. Suddenly the flashes stopped, and a warning light came on. "Incoming object," said the computer's voice. George recognized it as Grid's voice...Jenkins must have sampled it into his Javelin's computers. No time for guilt, though, he thought. He turned the Javelin so that the missile was perpendicular to the direction of threat, using the cameras at either end to perform interferometry and clarify the image of the distant object. Probably a missile that was dodged. "I should be so lucky," he muttered as the image came up on his screen. It was the Weregild, now dodging attacks and moving much more quickly. Towards him. Grelk. * * * * [August 24, 2015 - The Academy, Wisconsin Sector] "Cell sweet cell," the new arrival smirked as he kicked the door open and carried his heavy cases into the room. George looked up from his terminal and then pulled down its fireproof cover. Just in case. He stood and extended a hand. "I'm George Sylvester, your roommate." "Call me Scorch," the newcomer said as he set the cases down and turned around to survey the room. "I suppose it was too much to hope that my powers would keep me from being stuck with a roommate," he said to the wall, making a show of not shaking George's hand. George withdrew his hand, feeling a little embarrassed. He shrugged. "I'm sorta fireproof, I guess. Don't worry, they'll have the next level refurbished by the end of the term, you can probably find a solo room then." "Refurbished?" Scorch finally looked George in the eye. "What did it used to be, a prison?" "Yes. You didn't know?" "Well, I guess I read it somewhere, but I thought they were joking. Trying to make the students feel impressed and oppressed." He opened one of the cases and started hefting clothing into a set of shelves carved out of the bedrock. Like the clothing he was wearing, it had the thickness typical of fireproof synthetics. Everything in the room was built on the assumption that it would be exposed to extreme heat at some point. "Officially, the Northwoods Correctional Facility was built...well, dug...in the mid 1980s at the opening of the Third Heroic Age, to deal with the anticipated influx of superhuman prisoners. Unofficially, the central core was 'dug' when a prisoner in the work camp that used to be on these grounds manifested a disintegration field power that he couldn't turn off. Sank right into the ground." "Whoa. So he's still in the middle of the Earth?" Scorch's tone was mocking, but he did seem impressed. "Doubt it. Unless he didn't need to breathe or eat or drink, and was immune to extreme heat. Probably didn't even survive to the mantle. But the core shaft was pretty much his parting gift to the corrections system, and they eventually started building side shafts to turn it into a prison. Then, back in '98, all the prisoners went away..." "And how did THAT work, anyway?" Scorch interrupted. "No one's really sure. No one who's talking, anyway. But, with the prisoners gone, the place sat empty for a while, until we paranorms," he swept his arm out to take in all of the incoming students on the level, "started manifesting powers and needing training last year. They're on a crash course of making prison cells fit for habitation by innocent young children, some of whom did have to live in cells for a few months last year." "But not so fit that we're not reminded the place could be a prison again, easily enough," Scorch snorted. "Well, we just can't have nice things around you," George chided. * * * * [3734.1.29 - Sol System] George shook his head again. Why had his memory kicked up such a vivid bit of recall, though? Was it a side effect of this body-sharing plan? It wasn't a gee-induced hallucination this time, that was for sure. Still, some serious gees would be a good idea right about now. He threw the thrusters on maximum and started flying erratically, trying to keep the Weregild at metaphorical arm's length. Preferably a metaphorical arm a million miles long. Scorch had certainly kept George at arm's length back then. It had seemed, on first meeting, that things might be okay between them, but Scorch was just determined to demonstrate his independence now that he was away from home. And that meant, to him, resenting anyone who intruded on his personal space. George piled on a few more gees to keep the Weregild out of HIS personal space. Still, once teenage rebellion started to wear off a bit, the two of them had practically become family. In fact, they got along a LOT better once Scorch had his own private room...without feeling the need to keep barriers in place at "home," Scorch was less inclined to keep the barriers up the rest of the time. "Jenk...Sylvester, do you read me?" Darius's voice came over the comm. "Loud and...unnf...clear, sir. Got me a tailgater, though." "Lead the 'tailgater' towards the Invincible. They have the tunable lasers set up, but you've gotten outside effective range for the scanners to determine which frequency has had an effect." "Roger that, Papa Bear." "Papa what?" "Never mind." * * * * [September 1, 2016 - The Academy, Wisconsin Sector] "I'm telling you, today's the day," George whispered to Scorch as Sarah Grant ented the room. "Didn't your parents warn you about fast women?" Scorch snickered, looking across the cafeteria at the object of George's affections. "Quiet, you. She's perfect, I tell you. Graceful, intelligent, beautiful..." "And she doesn't know you from Adam, because she spent most of last year in intensive training to keep her powers from killing her," Scorch added. "A definite plus, actually. Not knowing you, that is." "Don't make me turn the sound you're making into static electricity," George warned. "Oh, like you have that much control yet. You try it, you'll end up zapping the entire caff." "It'd be worth it. Shh, she's looking this way." "George, I'm telling you, you don't have a chance." "I won't know if I don't try, *Scott*," George emphasized Scorch's real name as if he was twisting a knife. "You wound me sirrah," Scorch clutched his chest in mock pain. "But I'm not putting you down...I just know something you don't know." "And what would that be?" George hissed, trying desperately not to forget the opening lines he'd rehearsed in the mirror. "He beat you to it," Scorch jerked his thumb towards JakZak Taylor, who Sarah had just noticed and was even now carefully walking towards. She really had only two speeds right now...slow and ohmygodslowdown! George's heart sank. He knew JakZak had been helping Sarah last year, using his limited gravity powers to keep her from injuring herself with uncontrolled bursts of speed. But when he left for summer break, it didn't seem to be going anywhere romantic. "JayZee spent the summer here, George," Scorch shrugged. "Things happened. You're not gonna pry those two apart with a crowbar, five elephants and an Anchor." George sighed, and suddenly realized he couldn't *forget* the opening lines he'd spent the morning memorizing. And wouldn't be able to for some time to come. * * * * [3734.1.29 - Near Earth] George just rolled with it, mentally speaking. Going in a specific direction without being intercepted by the Weregild was challenging enough without wondering why his life was flashing before his eyes. Of course, he could just be anticipating dying again, what with the luxury of seeing it coming this time. Then the rainbow of destruction lanced out from the Mobile Headquarters Invincible, lasers tuned to every color of the visible spectrum and a number of colors beyond sight. Once again, systems designed to be useful at ranges of several light minutes against targets that could teleport through Twist Space were devastatingly accurate at mere light seconds against a relatively slow target. The Weregild ignored the beams as they bounced harmlessly off its Collapsauron form. A few ricochets actually cooked off paint on the hull of George's Javelin. Fortunately, the beams were held to low power until the right frequency was found, specifically to avoid the bounce problem. Then a line was scored into the Weregild's chest, and it stopped ignoring the attacks. Within seconds, the entire battery had been tuned to the correct color (a sort of blue-indigo according to the Javelin's sensors) and the power ramped up. Space boiled as glittering monoatomic gold flew from the Weregild's body, scattering the incoming beams and rendering them visible to the naked eye. But it also started to reduce the effectiveness of the attack. It was suddenly gone, vanished out from within the expanding golden cloud and streaking towards the Invincible. The batteries realigned quickly enough to catch the Weregild again, but it was now using the clouds kicked up from its own body intelligently, and in seconds had closed with the Mobile Headquarters Invincible. It was insufficiently Mobile to escape. And it was far from Invincible as the Weregild smashed into it and found its main reactor core. The explosion blinded George before filters slammed into place and plunged the cockpit into darkness. * * * * [January 1, 2023 - The Academy, Wisconsin Sector] The bright lights blinded George, and he briefly considered using his powers to dim the light striking his eyes. But that would probably look bad on camera, and this was a public relations event as much as it was recognition of the his and his classmates' accomplishments. Besides, he just had to hold out until the short "soundbite-friendly" ceremony reached its climax, then he could put on the mask of his uniform, with its light- filtering eyeslit. He glanced carefully around him, at his friends on the stage, the shadowy and indistinct forms of the students and dignitaries around the central core and beyond the harsh light of the spots that shown on the stage. They'd been through a lot in the past few months. Death, heartbreak, uncovering a killer who had stalked the halls of the Academy since its founding, the horror of alien bodysnatchers...but they'd won. They'd been tested in fire, and were ready to save the world. George hardly heard the words being spoken. He knew what they were, and when he had to do what for the cameras. And now it was time to step forward and don his mask, thankfully cutting the glare. He stood with the majority of the grads, those who were going to be founding the new Academy of Super-Heroes team. With his best friend Scorch, who now had a costume to match his self-image. With Sarah, now married to JakZak...he suppressed a twinge of regret at that. With big Sal, tough Essay, mysterious Howard, conflicted Aaron. But not with poor Arin, shattered by her experiences. And not with Sean, who had turned out to be the Burnout Killer, a replacement inserted way back in 2013. But as he looked down at the gloves of his costume, a costume designed by his older sister as a graduation gift, he realized that while she was his family by blood shared, these people on the stage were his family by blood spilled. Family. * * * * [3734.1.29 - Near Earth] "Okay, these are not just flashbacks," George muttered to himself, making sure the comm wasn't open. "I'm getting a message from someone." The Weregild? It wasn't telepathic, last he'd heard, but it could be trying to taunt him mystically. But why those memories? Especially that last one. The bright light felt...important, somehow. Sure, light was the key to defeating the Weregild. If he had his own powers in this body, he could try to modify the laser on the Javelin to damage the thing. For about five seconds, before it smashed him. Something told him to head for the Sun. Light was important? Go where there's as much light as possible. It was a slender thread, but the best he had. The destruction of the Invincible had bought him some distance, and he put it to use, gunning the engines and heading directly into the Sun. Hopefully it would take the Weregild a few hours to catch up, or he'd have to start... ...Twisting. The Weregild had just Twisted in front of him. "Help?" * * * * [April 14, 2023 - South America Protected Zone] The Dark Gate stood before him, quiet like he had never seen it, neither roiling nor shuddering. Like he had never seen it? But he had never been in front of the Dark Gate before, had he? And where was everyone else? ++We are here,++ whispered a voice in his mind. George turned to see a vaguely humanoid form, wreathed in a cloak of stardust. "The Family," he said, feeling the pieces falling into place. "You've been trying to contact me, through memories of the families I've been a part of, or tried to become a part of, haven't you?" ++It has been so long since we talked to a Physical. Only familiarity with you from Before even let us try.++ Before, during ASH's first real mission, back in spring of 2023. "Can you stop the Weregild?" ++No.++ He sighed. "So, you just wanted to say 'hi' to an old acquaintance before I die? Again?" ++We needed to tell you something, but it was not 'hi'. We needed to remind you of something you knew once, but had forgotten because it was not the Truth as you were taught.++ "And that is?" ++Power lies not just in the flesh, but in the spirit. The spirit can be stronger than any flesh. You know this...you must believe it as well.++ * * * * [3734.1.29 - Inside Mercury's Orbit] George snapped back to awareness and performed an emergency Twist of his own, a desperate move so close to a gravity well. Only the fact that the smaller engines of the Javelin were designed for short-range precision Twisting let him even try the move. "Power lies in the spirit," he said as the forces of the emergency Twist threatened to force him unconscious. The Weregild reappeared on his scanners, too close to comfort. He Twisted again, eating more distance between himself and the ravening atomic furnace that was the Sun. "The Family took their powers with them when they left their bodies behind in the clutches of Devastator's agent," he added, ticking off the points mentally as reality practically curdled around him. It was back again, close enough that he could see the gouges in its once flawless form, see the faint clouds of gold dust that surrounded it even now. Being much closer to the Sun, it was evaporating just from white light. Another Twist. "The power is mine to use, even in another's body?" Half question, half conclusion, as he emerged so close to the Sun that his canopy had gone solid black to try and protect him. He could feel the heat, although it might yet be more from the overtaxing his engines were getting than from the Sun. Sensors pinged to let him know the Weregild had homed in on him yet again. There was a crunch as its now three-fingered fist clenched over the front of the missile that formed the core of the Javelin. It was not armed, so what little explosion there was from leaking antimatter was largely contained by the mighty hand. "Now or never," George said, knowing that the next grasp of those fists would crush him into paste. He reached INSIDE AND FOUND IT.... In his mind, he heard the Weregild scream as indigo destruction washed over its body, sweeping it away like dust in a hurricane. And then darkness claimed George. * * * * [The Celestial Temple] "Welcome back," a familiar voice said as George struggled to open his eyes. "Urgh," was the extent of eloquence George felt capable of. "Well, I know you've got some questions. And since I'm a god, I can answer them all, but won't answer all of them. My perogative," Baal Samin smirked. "First, Jenkins will survive. He's tough, and once he was in control he jettisoned the missile and took one last Twist out of harm's way." George managed to nod. Hopefully the... "Second, the Atlatl-B was one of the survivors of the engagement. Things will be tough for them, since the United Worlds fleet just lost some significant resources and the Santari will pounce, but such is war." "Why..." George managed to mumble. "Why was the Weregild after you, when it was created to destroy Warden? Well, Claudette Viau always was one to paper over missing knowledge with raw power, and her creation had a lot of such filler spaces. Some self- determination crept in between the cracks, and it chose ASH as an enemy after being dissipated the first time by Peregryn. Once your soul was in the area, it couldn't resist, despite the will of the Santari telepath who had merged with it." "So what now?" George asked, finally feeling like himself again. "Ah, but that would be telling. You'll find out soon enough, when I put you back on the path you were taking when I grabbed you. Now you're in much better shape for what awaits you, so rejoice!" Darkness started to close in around George again. "Wait! Who killed me?" The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him was Baal Samin winking and saying, "You'll know in good time...." =========================================================================== Next Issue: Be here for #37, "Candlelight", as we start a new arc: The City of Lights! =========================================================================== Author's Notes: For more details on The Family, check out ASH #1-3. When I first had the idea to stick George's spirit in the future, I floated the idea among the other writers to turn it into a sort of rotating Quantum Leap thing, with each writer taking a turn putting George into a different era. But that ended up not happening (in part because we were a bit worn out from Capstone still, I suspect), so I stretched the 3734 story out to cover a few issues. When it came time to wrap up George's arc, I originally wasn't going to devote an entire issue to it, since I didn't think it'd take that long. Fly out, dodge the Weregild a bit, realize he could still use his energy transmutation powers, boom. But as I thought about it, that seemed too pat. He needed a better reason to figure he could use his powers, and I decided that The Family would still be around and be able to remind him that they retained the lion's share of their powers when they left their bodies. And instead of just contacting him easy as you please, it would take some work, and result in a series of flashbacks. Boom, I had an entire issue laid out. Oh, and in case anyone's wondering, the AstroSpear and GeoMace have thin films of diamond mystically bonded to them, designed to reflect away the specific frequency of light that Collapsiron is vulnerable to.