Cover Image: An homage to Edward Hopper's Nighthawks, depicting a somewhat eerily-lit corner diner at night in Manhattan. Rex Umbrae and a veiled woman sit at one end of the counter, dressed in 1940s period outfits. Juliana Silvestri is attired as the server, and is taking the couple's order. A mysterious figure with his back to the viewer broods at the corner of the counter. //|| //^^\\ || || .|. COHERENT COMICS UNINCORPORATED PRESENTS // || \\ || || --X--------------------------------------------- //======================= '|` ACADEMY OF SUPER-HEROES #72 // || \\ || || Metropolis II - Human Desire // || \\__// || || Copyright 2006 by Dave Van Domelen ___________________________________________________________________________ ACADEMY OF SUPER-HEROES ROLL CALL CODENAME REAL NAME POWERS STATUS -------- --------- ------ ------ Solar Max Jonathan Zachary Spacetime Control ACTIVE "JakZak" Taylor Comet Sarah Grant-Taylor Superspeed, Ice Body ACTIVE Green Knight Salvatore Napier Strength, Regeneration ACTIVE Contact Aaron Zander Psi, Mind-over-Body ACTIVE Scorch Scott Handleman Pyrokinetic ACTIVE Beacon George Sylvester Living Light DETACHED Essay Sara Ana Rodriguez Gadgeteer DETACHED Peregryn Howard Henderson Jr. Elemental Mage DETACHED Lightfoot Tom Dodson Velocity Control ACTIVE Breaker Christina Li Telekinesis ACTIVE Fury Arin Kelsey Concussion Blasts ACTIVE ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [February 12, 2026 - Manhattan, Autonomous Sector] "And that brings us to a question that's rather close to you, Anatole," Juliana noted, tapping her chin with the stylus from her handcomp. "Literally," she then gestured at his chest. Rex Umbrae's valet frowned, looking down at the blur suit he was wearing. "Indeed," he said, with only the faintest trace of disapproval. Made from "negative index" materials, the blur suit didn't truly render the wearer invisible, but it did make them much harder to see at any significant distance. The suits had been developed as camoflage in the early 00's, but the return of paranormals capable of using supertech invisibility suits had left them on the technological wayside. Lately, it had been a fad among the super-wealthy to dress their servants in blur suits, and Umbrae had apparently found it amusing to follow the trend. "Will I need to take the blur suits into account while designing the wedding party's clothing?" she asked. "I believe so," Anatole replied. "As I will be a groomsman, I will not be wearing this...accoutrement," he plucked at the material, creating a strange rippling look. "But there will be at least some staff in blur suits." He sniffed in the strongest expression of irritation Juliana had seen escape the man to date. "It is a sad statement on my profession that anyone would have thought to employ blur suits," he confided. "A proper gentleman's gentleman should be capable of being inobtrustive even while on fire. And I, Anatole Mabuse, am quite the proper gentleman's gentleman." And if you're merely a Jeeves, then Rex Umbrae is Bertie Wooster, Juliana thought, but she kept the retort to herself. She'd met a few spymasters in her career, and Anatole moved like one. Juliana was willing to bet that if Anatole wasn't the head of the Hangmen, he was at least very highly placed in that enforcement arm. The fact that he was fussy about everything being "just so" was an asset in both sides of his job, although she suspected Rex gave Anatole fewer headaches than the road-ragers did. "Fine, I'll need a list of who will and won't be in blur suits, and I'll need to coordinate that with the decorator," Juliana made some notes on her handcomp. "There's a few patterns that look positively nauseating when filtered through a blur suit's edges...." * * * * [February 14, 2026 - Falcon Bay, Venus] A few people were actually trying to follow the steps of the dance that went along with the Aoide song playing over the newly-built hall's speakers, but most of the people at the party were sticking to that timeworn dictum that said enthusiasm made up for lack of form. Just as well, Beacon decided, given how self-conscious Geode was about dancing in the first place. "What is that dance over there?" Geode suddenly asked, pointing to a group of two men and two women who were definitely in the enthusiasm over form camp. "It is not like the groups," she noted, indicating the few clusters of people engaging in the "official" dance. "Ah," George realized, then paused for a moment before mentally shrugging and deciding Geode would find out eventually. "That's a 'poly' group. They're not dancing together because it's some specific step, it's just that they're, well, a group." "Poly?" "Polyamorous," George explained. "Monogamy is one man and one woman, polygamy is one man and several women, polyandry is one woman and several men. Polyamory is however many men and women works for them. I find monogamy is complicated enough for my tastes, though," he smiled, not adding that what with all the spirit-jumping of late, it was hard to really say he'd been purely monogamous. But he REALLY didn't want to think about all the implications of the time he'd spent sharing space in Scott's body, and the way it seemed to affect the relationship between Scott and George's older sister. Wisely, he decided to shut up and dance. "Looks like Tom's found someone," Arin noted, glancing past Sal's arm. To look over his shoulder would have required a crane. Sal nodded, dancing far more lightly on his feet than anyone would have expected from the towering mass of muscle. "Ekaterina Templeton, one of the pilots attached to the Marshals. A norm, but good. They started out just talking shop, but scuttlebutt is they've already joined the mile high club." "Pshaw," Arin smiled wickedly. "Our Tom? He may be fast in other things, but not that. I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't even gotten to first base yet, unless she's really aggressive. Still, tonight's definitely a night for pairing off," Arin gestured vaguely, taking in the room. "Even the people who are planning to come back on the next shuttle with us tomorrow don't seem to want to be alone tonight." "With a few exceptions," Sal half-agreed. "Ms. Bell over in the corner seems to be a bit of a wallflower, for instance. Although, I suppose the little one is still young enough to excuse her." Arin hmmed. "I have to say, I haven't really talked to her, that I can recall. She just never seems to be around." "Ditto. I hear she's friendly enough, but something of a workaholic. And a tech geek...so I guess she's not really a social butterfly. More of a social pillbug." As the latest song, a fairly fast number, echoed away into silence, Essay jumped up on top of one of tables and silenced the music with a touch at her wristband. "Hey, everybody! Lend me yer ears for a minute, Howie and me got an announcement to make!" she shouted, then turned to pull Peregryn up onto the table next to her. Despite not being the one of the pair who was visibly pregnant, Peregryn was the less graceful. Perhaps because he was clearly preoccupied with something. "Ah, yes," he said, without his usual gravitas. In fact, he seemed downright flustered. "As most of you know, Sara and I have been, ah, involved for some time now...." The crowd snickered as Essay smirked and patted her belly. "And we have decided, that is to say, um...." "We're gettin' married!" Essay beamed, holding up her left hand to show off a ring that looked like a rippling band of white fire. "I mean, we've set the date, too!" Peregryn nodded, blushing slightly. "We will be wed on the twentieth of March...what would be the Vernal Equinox back on Earth. But the wedding will be here, on Venus, that is. And it won't be the Equinox here for many years, due to..." "Anyone not going back to Earth is invited," Essay broke in as Peregryn mumbled to a halt. "Heck, the giant monsters are invited if they can behave themselves!" * * * * [February 16, 2026 - United World Building, Canberra, Australia] "The ambassador from Eurasian Union member state France has the floor," boomed a voice that was translated into a dozen or more languages for the convenience of the listeners. The usual translation lag was minimized by the fact that the translators knew what was going to be said in this case. Speedier machine translation technology existed, of course, but after a few notable...and "funny if it didn't almost cause a war"...incidents it had been decided to go back to human translation. At least there was someone to blame if things went wrong. Henriette DuChamp cleared her throat, perhaps a bit dramatically, and favored the delegates with the warm smile that had helped her in no small part as she had moved up through the political machine of France. "As we are all painfully aware, the edenic Venus has been revealed to have a serpent in it, as well as a giant stone beetle, a metal-winged ibis and possibly other megafauna. This has put something of a wet towel on notions of colonization, understandably. "But, leaving aside finger-pointing on the matter of how this situation became public," she paused for effect, knowing that a great many fingers had pointed at Khadam in recent days, "I don't believe the matter is unsalvageable. There have been analyses made," she said, which was diplomatic code for "someone else made the analyses and our spies got their hands on 'em", "suggesting that the megafauna may be intelligent and capable of negotiation. Indeed, as likely natives of the planet, the megafauna represent a potential legitimate government of Venus, and an alternative to dealing with Q'Nos on this matter." There was a low rumble that filled the room at this suggestion. No one was keen to treat with Q'Nos, especially now that he had entered into a deal with Khadam, but were giant monsters really an acceptable alternative? "Of course, my esteemed colleagues from the North American Combine would better be able to assess the likelihood of such negotiations," DuChamp continued, still smiling, "given their recent dealings with one of the native megafauna. But it does, I believe, put the matter of territory on Venus back on the table, yes?" * * * * [February 17, 2026 - Manhattan, Autonomous Sector] "Hey, 21," Gorilla nodded to the Manson-Haight clone. While not an actual gorilla, the heavyset and hairy paraganger had come by the nickname fairly. And almost no one knew that his actual power was a sort of psychic invisibility, which was the way he liked it. Best to let them think he was just a low-grade muscleman. "Could be better," the pod-racer shrugged. "24 got scragged the other day." "Wait, didn't 24 get killed last year in that thing with the defective after-market Ihi booster?" curiosity glinted in Gorilla's beady eyes. 21 shook his head. "That was the old 24. We made a new one. And gonna have to make another 24 soon, looks like." "Any idea who?" Gorilla tried to lounge nonchalantly on a park bench, but it creaked too loudly and spoiled the effect. 21 shook his head, turning the gesture into a quick scan of his surroundings. "Mebbe Hellhound, mebbe a Hangman. This 24's been a bit of a troublemaker, coulda been either. Or neither, I guess...he mighta just pissed off the wrong person." "I thought all you Haights had some kinda mental link?" "Yes and no," 21 temporized. "Hellhound can cut it, and Hangmen are just so goddamn sneaky that they take you out before you know it's happening. And not all us higher numbers are that well connected in the first place," he shrugged, having decided the matter wasn't really that much of a secret these days. No one was totally sure, not even other Manson-Haights, but the original Manson-Haight had probably died years ago...clones of clones of clones led to some watering down. "Damn. I hope it's Hellhound or the Hangmen," Gorilla snarled. "Why?" "Otherwise there's a third factor out there that can take out one of you guys without being picked up on. Otazuka making another move, maybe? The whatever-damn-color-Eye-this-month ninjas? STRAFE?" 24 sat down next to Gorilla and whispered, "Word is there's someone taking down Hangmen. Doesn't make sense that Hellhound would start doing that now, so a third factor sounds like just the ticket. But then there's the fourth factor." Gorilla blinked. "Huh?" "Remember ol' Coulter, the reporter?" Gorilla nodded, the motion making the bench creak again. "He's supposedly coming to town to cover the big wedding. Cybernostra don't forgive and forget that easy...maybe he's a double agent? Or triple? Never did trust 'Kid Rebus' myself." Gorilla shuddered a little. A lot of Cybernostra had a single cyber eye, but Coulter's association with the CSV had made the fact he shared that characteristic with Rebus a little too creepy. And he'd been around during the whole Odin dodge Rebus ran on Manhattan. "I am so glad I'm just a grunt," Gorilla finally sighed, standing up to the bench's eternal relief. "There's so many angles here it'd give Mister Maze a headache." * * * * [February 18, 2026 - Toyama, Japan] [Note: dialogue in this scene is translated into English from a sort of coded "cant" derived from Japanese.] "Approach, Mr. Serizawa," the figure cloaked in shadows commanded. "We are told you have concerns you wish to bring to our attention." Serizawa Yutaka bowed and stepped into the circle of light at the center of the room. "I believe you are aware of all of the details of this matter, I simply wish to convince you to support my arguments against the other Otazuka chieftains." The shadowy figured nodded, his features coming tantalizingly close to visibility. "Yes, I am. But I should like to hear you present your case, to measure your clarity of thought." Yutaka nodded, hiding his nervousness. "Very well. In recent years, the situation in Manhattan has stabilized significantly under Rex Umbrae, to the point that there are very few avenues left to us in that market. As paragang chaos subsides and legitimate business returns to the so-called Autonomous Sector, it becomes less and less likely that we will be able to garner more than a token benefit from this market, at least within the projected five year plan. However, the formalization of the alliance of Umbrae with the Cybernostra via marriage to one of Sister Christian's seconds could close all doors to us immediately. On the other hand, should something disrupt this marriage and the concomitant alliance, the environment could become far more favorable to our endeavors." "On the gripping hand," the shadowy figure countered, "such chaos may erupt without the proactive stance you have argued for in council, Serizawa. You can rest assured that other powers are no more pleased by the prospect of this alliance than we are, and it is more...elegant to help put those players in a position to take direct action. For instance, were I to tell you that a certain Pranir House seeks to cause Rex Umbrae to lose face, would it not be better to supply the aliens with a means to do so? Or were I to mention that the Warden still lives, and needs only have his path to Manhattan smoothed? Or even the whispers that there is dissention in the ranks of Umbrae's own enforcers?" Yutaka swallowed hard. He felt like a schoolchild being lectured by a prefect. "My apologies," he bowed. "I mistook the attitudes of my peers for indolence and excessive caution. It did not occur to me that the Otazuka had already taken steps to deal with the problem." "Do not fret, Serizawa. In truth, we have taken no such steps, merely determined that none are needed. The longest journey may begin with a single step, but it is far better to send an enemy on in your stead." * * * * [February 19, 2026 - Miami, Florida Sector] As the last synthesized notes of the power fugue glistened across the amphitheater, Aoide took her last bows and swirled off the stage with an energy that merely human performers would envy. While she was only a low-level paranormal, and her main talent was musical rather than physical, just about everyone with the Magene enjoyed certain benefits, and Aoide pushed hers to the limit. "Great show, Tammy!" her manager effused, handing her a towel. "Thanks, Harry," the singer accepted it, wiping some of the sweat from her nearly ebony face and platinum blond hair. Both features were natural, or as natural as anything could be when it came to paranormals. Between her appearance and her impossible vocal range, it was as if she'd been born to be a rock star. And "the Muse of Brock Music" was certainly on her way to fulfilling that birthright. "You've got someone waiting in your dressing room," Harry added, a bit nervously. "Harry, you know what I told you about letting the fans in," she half- teased. But she could hear the worry in his voice, and it put a significant damper on her previously buoyant mood. "This one ain't a fan. Well, maybe he is," Harry temporized, "but he's here on business. Big leagues business." Fear warred with anticipation in his tone and his expression. The big leagues. The kind of patronage that could ensure that a one-hit wonder made the transition to mainstream mainstay. "Well, let's not keep the gentleman waiting," Aoide put her stage face back on and strode towards the dressing room, the cheers of the crowd still echoing behind her. Once there, she found a slender man in an impeccable suit and subtle cybernetic enhancements waiting for her. "Miss Tamiqua Shaw, I represent an important personage who would like to engage your services for a private event." Aoide stopped cold. Almost no one knew her proper first name. In fact, she'd legally changed it to Tammy as soon as she turned 18...and most people only knew her by her stage name. "Yes?" she replied, turning her iron control of her voice to a non-musical use to hide her concern. "I believe you are familiar with the general shape of the political situation in the Autonomous Sector of Manhattan, yes?" the visitor asked. When she nodded, he went on, "Rex Umbrae, as you may have heard, is getting married next month. His bride is a fan of your music, and would be very appreciative if you would consent to perform at the wedding reception." Aoide blinked. Umbrae was both famous and infamous, and his wedding was likely to get a LOT of press coverage. Even if he wasn't the sort of patron she wanted in the long run, she'd come to the attention of a lot of much more promising prospects. And while her rep might take a temporary hit if she worked for what amounted to an international crimelord...well, her rep needed a little "bad girl" spice anyway. "Harry," she turned to her manager. "I think I'd like to accept this offer. Could you take care of the details?" * * * * [February 20, 2026 - Manhattan, Autonomous Sector] The woman had been electrocuted, that much was obvious. The surge had been so strong that carefully concealed cybernetic enhancements had burned through their coverings of synthskin, and the result was a stench that made Gorilla glad that enhanced senses weren't among his paranormal talents. It wasn't the first corpse he'd seen, of course. Even with Manhattan calmed down a lot since the wild and wooly early days of the Paragangs, there were still fights that ended with lethal applications of powers. It was, however, probably the first Hangman corpse he'd seen. "Probably" because their very nature meant you could never be sure if someone was a Hangman or not, but even without the hemp noose the killer had draped over the body, this woman struck Gorilla as a likely candidate. The cybernetics had been first-rate, but hidden. Cybernostra never concealed all of their upgrades...conspicuous cyborging was their bag. And very few others had access to the good stuff, leaving Umbrae's secret police as the most likely candidate. Gorilla was frozen with indecision. There were a lot of ways he could turn this discovery to his advantage, but even more ways that it could blow up in his face. Then the decision was taken from his hands as the nondescript automobile pulled into the alleyway and Gorilla was forced to go into stealth mode, bending light while also sending out a mental "ignore me" command. "Electrocuted," one of the men sighed as he stepped out of the car and looked at the corpse. "Ten to one the onboards were fried very thoroughly, so we won't get anything on who did it." "My money's still on that bitch, Hellhound," the second member of the group snarled. Gorilla quirked an eyebrow...that didn't seem to make sense, like 21 had mentioned the other day. Hellhound went after the ones who made messes, not the janitors who cleaned up after 'em. Or was that just what she wanted everyone to think? "Whatever. Full spectrum recordings, then bag her up and bring her back for forensics," the first man ordered. That was Gorilla's cue to leave, as the recordings might show him to some later observer that his powers couldn't convince to just ignore him.... ============================================================================= Next Issue: In ASH #73, we see that "Hangmen Also Die". But who's killing them? With more suspects than victims, and a wedding coming up, will Manhattan go from a slow burn to a bonfire again? ============================================================================= Author's Notes: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nighthawks shows the original of the painting referenced on the cover. You may have noticed a change in the order, with the cover image coming before the logo. This was done because the RACC @ WilsEgo site excerpts the first few lines of a story, and kept getting ASCII hash. :) (http://www.wilsego.com/racc for reference.) Each section was based around something that people desire (if not always blatantly): power, order, knowledge, love, territory, fame, etc. Sometimes what they desire is good for them, sometimes it isn't. And sometimes it can really muck up the works. Negative index materials (that bend light away from the centerline) are real, and it's possible that there would eventually be an application such as the blur suit, although it's unlikely such a thing would ever really be effective for combat use. They also seem more effective at microwave frequencies than visible light at the moment. Before the classical nine Muses were codified, there were a few trios out there. The oldest was Aiode ("song"), Melete ("practice") and Mneme ("memory"). I decided to go with Aiode rather than one of the better known nine, since the Muses from that group most closely tied to song are really patronesses of styles of poetry, and didn't quite do what I wanted. Aoide is a more general Muse of song, not as specialized as Polyhymnia or Calliope. ============================================================================ For all the back issues, plus additional background information, art, and more, go to http://www.eyrie.org/~dvandom/ASH ! To discuss this issue or any others, either just hit "followup" to this post, or check out our Yahoo discussion group, which can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ash_stories/ ! ============================================================================