. _ Blackbird & Countinghouse Presents: _ ( ) CONCLAVE OF SUPER-VILLAINS ( ) =-+-= An Academy of Super-Heroes Universe Comic =-+-= I copyright 1999 by Tony Pi I #6 - "TEMPESTUOUS - Part I: Loyalties, Lusts and Lies" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Cover shows Derek Radner kissing Angeline Croft, while a storm brews in the background. Lightning dances across their bodies. Electric letters at the bottom proclaim: STORMY LOVE!] ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- TRITON Derek Radner Gadgeteer & Electricity CONFLICTO Eugene Kwan Friction & Viscosity Control LABYRINTHE Yvan Viau Spatial Magic SULTRY Angeline Croft Weather Artist REBUS Lorenzo Archangeli Anchor & Advanced Training BURNOUT II Lana Smith Intangibility & Regeneration PERYTON Viktor Von Wright Monstrous Form CARYATID Claudette Viau Spiritual Magic MR. STRINGS Tyra Dumont Mind Control DROYD DR-01-D Mobile Artificial Consciousness --------------------------------------------------------------------------- PREVIOUSLY The Conclave of Super-Villains fought STRAFE and EUROPA for Haven's arsenal, but did not escape without losses. Rebus and Peryton were captured, and their mobile HQ Skyhaven heavily damaged in the battle. The rest of the CSV fled to territory near Khadam. A week after the incident at Haven, Rebus escaped on route to Siberia with the aid of Chinese allies, but it was at the cost of his left eye. An attempted rescue of Peryton by paragangers failed the same day. JANUARY 9th, 2024 "Josephina Ridley," whispered Rebus into her ear. "What shall I do with you, hm?" DSHA agent Jo Ridley turned her head away. She had been trying to apprehend the Viau twins for a double murder in Montreal, but was captured by Burnout of the Conclave of Super-Villains [CSV #1-2]. She awoke to find herself in a prison cell God-knows-where, certain that she had been kept unconscious for days. The only contact she had was with a Russian guard, who did not speak a word of English or French. A week passed like this. Then Rebus came. That was how he introduced himself, though she remembered the man who was called Lorenzo at the airport, minutes before she was captured. The Italian did not look the same as he did the first time she saw him. Now, the left side of his face was hideously scarred. The cuts looked a day old, and his left eye was blinded [EUROPA #3 - Ed.]. He released her from the cell but kept her at gunpoint. She asked him where they were, and where they were going. "From Novosibirsk to Arkhangelsk," he answered. Jo was incredulous. Of all places to end up, it had to be in Northern Russia. There was no choice but to go along with Rebus for now. Even if she escaped, it wouldn't take long before Rebus tracked down 'the foreign woman' who spoke no Russian. When they arrived in Arkhangelsk, Rebus immediately placed several calls. One was a local call in Russian, so she didn't understand what was said. The others were long-distance calls to banks in Switzerland. She understand German; her mother was Austrian. Jo memorized the phone numbers, as well as the Swiss bank account numbers and passcodes that Rebus rattled off. An hour later, a decrepit van came to meet them. Two men forced her into the van. "Let me go, or kill me like you did my partner," said Jo to Rebus. "Let you go? You'd alert the authorities. Kill you? A waste of your skills and beauty. Sell you into slavery? You may fetch a fair price," taunted Rebus. "But I think not." "Why did you keep me alive in the first place?" asked Jo. "You would have become an excellent host for Mr. Strings. Lucky for you, I've saved you from that fate." "And now?" "Now Josephina, we will meet some old associates. You see, Mr. Strings does not have the monopoly on puppets, nor do we need the Magene when old- fashioned brainwashing will do. It will be some time before my friends can arrange for my safe passage out of here...so we have time to play. You will become *my* puppet...." * * * * JANUARY 13th, 2024 Just a few kilometers north of the official border of Khadam where once there had been barren land, there now grew a lush tropical oasis cradled in a maze of thorns. What survived of Skyhaven was still aloft, anchored above the eastern edge. At the artificial lake in the center of this desert Eden, five Serpents gathered. "My paradise," purred Sultry, wading into the water. This garden was her latest artistic collaboration: Labyrinthe imported the wilderness and carved out the landscape to her specifications, while she maintained the proper environmental conditions for the vegetation. It would rain only when she wanted it to, and the wind would blow only when she willed it. Pride filled her. This green jewel in the sands was her living canvas. "I am Nature incarnate," she boasted. "Geronimo!" whooped Conflicto as he divebombed into the water. He came up for air, and shouted, "This is the life! Sun, surf and babes!" She knew Conflicto was ogling her figure, but it was not the brash youth she wanted to beguile. It was Triton for whom she played Lorelei. She found him attractive, sharp, and witty; he also possessed a sadistic streak which rivaled her own. Simply put, it was obsession on first sight. "This conclave will now come to order," said Triton. Sultry could tell that he had obviously not wasted his time in prison, for his lean, muscular body told of his years of physical training. He had salvaged the conference table from Skyhaven's half-destroyed briefing room, and converted it to float on water. "The communications array has been fixed," he announced. The Skyhaven array had been badly damaged when the engines exploded, cutting off their link to the shadowy leaders of the Conclave of Super-Villains. But now, Triton had scraped together enough parts to re-establish the link. Without the array, they would have had no access to the funds they needed to rebuild Skyhaven. Reluctantly, the other four villains joined him. "Hey, I've always wanted to go to a *swim meet*," joked Conflicto, treading water. "Let's *dive* right into the proceedings!" "Cut the humour, boy," said Burnout. "We've got serious business to discuss." "You cut him some slack, girl," snapped Sultry. She thought Burnout was looking more and more anorexic, a fact emphasized by how thin she looked in her black and white one-piece. Burnout glared. "At least he's not so incompetent as to give away a baby to an enemy." She was still angry that Sultry had fallen for Rasputin's illusions, and lost Burnout's baby. "Dieu, get on with it," said Labyrinthe. He floated a meter above the water, not deigning to get even his feet wet. "Right," said Triton. Taking a deep breath, he activated the holo-imager. Two figures appeared in their appointed places at the ends of the table, oblivious to the fact that half of their holo-matrices were underwater. The first was the distorted image of the Ankh Killer. The other was a face Sultry did not recognize; Mr. Strings always took on a different man's appearance every time. This time, he stole the features of a thin, dark-skinned man. Even Conflicto fell silent when Mr. Strings began to hum in that strange, atonal manner. Only Burnout acted indignant, snorting derisively at the holograms. "So, what have you bungling incompetents accomplished? You failed to capture three heroes [CSV #3 - Ed.]; you failed to escape with the weapons cache; you killed but a single small fry [CSV #5 - Ed.]. Your only success was the elimination of the Las Vegas Anchors [ASH #13 - Ed.]. Failures, all of you!" criticized Mr. Strings. "The hell we are!" interjected Triton. "It was Burnout who said she killed Peregryn, Kleinvogel, and Brown." "I saw them burn. You never told me C.J. Brown controlled fire," said Burnout in her own defense. "Your incompetence is unacceptable," replied the Ankh Killer. "Mr. Strings and I have been evaluating everyone's performances, and we are not pleased. So we have come to an unanimous decision. There is only one among you who proved himself worthy of taking over as leader: Triton. Obey him in all things, for he speaks with our authority. Anything to report, Triton?" "When I got the array working again, I began monitoring EUROPA communications with Rebus's decryption algorithms. Rebus has escaped [EUROPA #1-3 - Ed.], but there is a manhunt across Eurasia to recapture him. I wish him luck," said Triton with a wooden smile. "Regardless, we will proceed with the next phase of our masterplan in his absence," said Mr. Strings. "Ludicrous!" shouted Burnout. "This is a sham! Triton couldn't lead us out of a paper bag. We've all got unfinished personal business to attend to." She looked over at Labyrinthe. "Isn't that right, Yvan?" Yvan nodded. "My sister. Release my sister. I've done all that you've asked. She could be an asset to our organization, but she's worthless as a hostage." "Never," answered Mr. Strings after a moment's consideration. The detail of the hologram impressed Sultry. She could actually see beads of sweat roll down Mr. Strings' forehead. "She will remain our insurance that you do not stray from the CSV. Your assignments: Triton, continue repairs and additions to Skyhaven. Sultry, investigate the political situation in Khadam and garner support for our endeavours. Burnout, locate the best assassin for hire. Take Conflicto with you, and keep him out of trouble. Labyrinthe, implement the Worldmaze project." "Hey, I don't need a babysitter," said Conflicto. "What about Reb and Pery?" "Rebus is free to rejoin us when he deigns to inform us of his whereabouts. As for Peryton, we are uncertain of where he is currently incarcerated. They will be rescued...in time. Dismissed," said Mr. Strings. The two holograms disappeared. Triton glowed with pure satisfaction. "You heard them," said Triton with a grin. "Obey me in *all* things." Burnout sneered. "I don't care who they think they are. We will humour them, and you...*for now*. But don't think you're master of this game, Triton. I've got unfinished business to take care of soon, and when the time comes, you won't stop us from leaving. Come, Conflicto." She swam away, with Eugene bitching about not getting enough time to work on his tan. "Nor will anyone stop me from finding my sister," said Labyrinthe. With a twist of his cloak, he vanished. Sultry and Triton were alone, at last. A warm wind blew across the water, as Sultry and Triton locked gazes for a long time. Sultry swam towards Triton. "I've been waiting for this moment, Derek." They could stand on the sandy bottom with tippy-toes, and Sultry moved in for an embrace. "Angeline," whispered Derek. "I...I like you but...." "Is it my body?" asked Sultry, knowing full well that it wasn't. Derek's cheeks flushed. "No, it's not you, it's me. I'm not a very good kisser." "I'd be glad to teach you." "It's not that!" blustered Derek. "You see, when I...kiss...I lose control of my powers. I might accidentally shock you." He gulped. "It's happened before." Sultry chuckled. "Is that all, Derek? Bollocks with your fear. Hit me with heat, cold or electricity, it's all the same. I'd barely feel it. My body mirrors the weather I create." She looked up at the sky. "Right now, I am a gentle breeze on a sunny day." She caressed Triton's cheek. "Feel me." "Warm," said Derek with a smile. He suckled her index finger. She could feel a jolt of ecstasy shoot up past her knuckles. She shuddered with delight. "It tickles," she said. She withdrew her finger, and leaned in for a kiss. "It's like we're made for each other," murmured Derek. Their tongues touched. There were sparks between them. Literally. * * * * JANUARY 14th, 2024 They called the worst sector in Lower Ghat the Vivarium. It was where the most alien of aliens came to brawl with the scum of Khadamite genetic experiments, and the bodies disappeared from the gutters almost as soon as they landed there. In other words, Conflicto and Burnout stood out like sore thumbs in this cutthroat crowd, who wanted nothing more than to break them. Burnout never broke a sweat. She simply ghosted right through the aggressors, making it a point to remove a vital internal organ or two from a couple of the meanest. After her demonstration, word spread like wildfire that she did belong in the Vivarium, after all. Conflicto, however, was another story entirely. Even now, sitting at the bar called the Skin Crawl, he taunted a juggernaut bounty hunter sitting across the room by making his nose run like Niagara. "S'matter, outta hankies?" Conflicto asked. The only thing saving him from a rather painful disembowelment was his reputation as the gaunt girl's companion. Burnout let Conflicto be. Tyra Dumont seethed inside Lana Smith, still furious over what Triton did at the meeting yesterday. How dare he?! Whoever that pretender was, he was not one of her puppets. It was plain as day that Triton had simply hired an actor to play the part of Mr. Strings, and either another actor to play the Ankh Killer or programmed an AI to say his lines. Now, Triton was the acclaimed leader and no one was wise to his deception, save her. She almost admired his audacity. The worst part was, she had to let Radner get away with it. Likely, he had already disposed of the actor, to cover his tracks. It was too soon to let on to the others that Burnout was just a puppet for Mr. Strings. Tyra was certain only one man knew the truth: Rebus would have deduced it by now. Luckily, Rebus was currently out of the picture. She would let Radner play his game in Khadam, while she focused her attentions on the developments in New York City. She had recently acquired a puppet by the name of Andrew, a lieutenant of a new crime boss in New York City. Rex Umbrae deduced that someone was Riding Andrew, and tricked her into revealing herself. [Warden #10 - Ed.] Yet the revelation led to a temporary truce, one which could lead her to Cockatrice. She felt the hatred well up again. Whenever she thought of the ice witch, the need for revenge crowded Lana's personality to a tiny corner of her mind. Yes, she would take Labyrinthe and Conflicto with her to New York City, when the time was right. Triton was a novice when it came to trickery, compared to Mr. Strings. She already made new puppets in Khadam, the first day she arrived. Now, all it would take was a few whispers about Labyrinthe's sister being sighted in NYC to make him want to come. As for Conflicto, all she had to do was to plant the idea of showing off to the paragangs that rejected him. She called the Pranir bartender over. He called himself Soul-Of- Discretion, his real name being unpronounceable by the human mouth. Everyone called him Sod, though. "I need an assassin, the best in Khadam or anywhere. The subtler the better." Soul-Of-Discretion spoke through his translator. "Payment would be one barb of negotiation, as would be the mark." "The money I can tell you, but the target will remain nameless until the assassin has proven himself." Burnout quoted a figure. Soul-Of-Discretion wheezed. "Credible, without fail credible." Meanwhile, Conflicto had foiled every attempt the juggernaut made to light a match or lighter for his cigar by negating friction. "Nads, can't you even muster up the strength to light a match?" "ENOUGH!" shouted the juggernaut. He took a step towards Conflicto. He reconsidered when he heard the first atonal hum. Two more hums joined the first. The Khadamite backed down, and stormed out of the Skin Crawl. "You have creepy friends," said Soul-Of-Discretion. "Huh?" said Conflicto, clueless. "The hummers. Be glad Mors Nolens is afraid of psis," said Soul-Of- Discretion. "Size really does matter, then," cracked Conflicto, mistaking 'psis' for 'size.' He had no idea what Soul-Of-Discretion meant. He was getting creeped out by the humming, though. It reminded him too much of Mr. Strings. "Hey Burnsie, can we go now?" "Yes, we're leaving, Eugene. If you do find the right man, Sod, let me know." Burnout flipped a card to the Pranir, who caught it in his beak, his four arms being busy with other tasks behind the bar. Burnout joined in with the hums as she walked out, a confused Conflicto following behind. When they have Cockatrice, it was just a matter of time before Tyra Dumont walked again. Throughout the city of Lower Ghat, her puppets hummed with anticipation. * * * * JANUARY 15th, 2024 Labyrinthe dressed casually for the operation. There was no need to draw unwanted attention by wearing his maze costume and cape, not when the whole Worldmaze project was supposed to be a secret. The Worldmaze idea had been his. He wanted a way to make travel across the globe easier, since it took a lot out of him. It would save him energy if he had magical conduits to use. However, just conjuring such a vast network out of thin air would exhaust him, to say nothing of the cost of maintaining it. He needed an artifact to act as the focus for his magic. There was a principle in magic called contagion: if it once was a part of an object, then it always remained a part of that object. Voodoo rituals took advantage of this fact, harming their victim through a doll embedded with a piece of the victim's hair or fingernail. Though he never trained as a real mage nor knew that the principle was merely a consequence of the Third Pillar, the law of spirit, Labyrinthe grasped it intuitively. He needed something of a single identity that was now scattered across the world. When he heard about the next stage of the CSV's plan, the answer came to him like divine inspiration: the Berlin Wall. Ever since the Wall came down, pieces of it had spread around the world. If he could enchant the Wall, already mythic in stature, he would have a network of conduits that spanned the globe, reaching any place where a sizable piece of the Wall existed. Fragments below a certain size would be too small to use as conduits, but even they could ease passage slightly. Right now he stood where Checkpoint Charlie used to be. There was a red line that began there, marking out the route of the Wall for 20 kilometers. Eventually, Labyrinthe would have to travel the entire length of the former Berlin Wall without stopping. The spell would reintegrate the Berlin Wall... reconstructing it, in a manner of speaking. However, buildings and other structures had been built over the former site of the Wall. The tricky part was, he couldn't nudge reality while he performed the enchantment, or else he would have to start all over again. He had spent the previous day evaluating the feasibility of the project. Preferably, the ritual would be performed in the dead of night, but Berlin never slept. He would need to scale buildings and swim the river, perhaps use a little explosive here and there. These were all skills he had picked up as a Sovereignist fighting for Quebec independence. Most importantly, he had to complete the entire route unseen. Unwanted attention might bring EUROPA...or worse. He estimated that it would take no less than a week to complete the 96-mile circuit around the former West Berlin, if secrecy were an issue. Even that fourteen miles a night seemed daunting. It was a risk Yvan was willing to take. After all, the Worldmaze would make finding his sister Claudette so much easier. He double-checked his backpack for his map, food, and equipment, then set out to 'rebuild' the Berlin Wall. He did not notice that he was being watched. * * * * JANUARY 17th, 2024 "Damn you, Rebus!" cursed Triton. He was in his bathrobe, typing away furiously at the communication console on the bridge. "The bastard locked out our Swiss accounts!" Rebus had drained the money from Devlin Marx's empire to fund the CSV's activities. Now, Rebus had transferred all their funds into unknown accounts, and covered his tracks well. The Conclave of Super-Villains was penniless. "He did it to spite me," said Triton with conviction. "You did sabotage his air supply and steal Tracey from under his nose," said Sultry. She was lounging in a red silk bathrobe embroidered with pearl suns. "DIDN'T I SAY NOSE WAS MINE? HUH?" "Yeah, yeah, you had dibs. Get over it," said Conflicto, catching the end of the conversation as he walked through the door. "Where've you guys been the past few days?" he asked, but then he did a double take when he realized what Triton and Sultry were wearing. "Oooookay...I think I know, nudge nudge wink wink." "WHAT DO YOU WANT, KWAN?" boomed Triton. "Chill, Casanova. You ever gonna get around to making that droid butler? Heads up!" He tossed a droid head to Triton. "I've even got a kewl name picked out. Droyd, with a 'y'!" Triton caught the head, then stood up abruptly. "You want me to build you a butler? Is that all?" He took a step towards Conflicto, shaking the droid head in his hand. Conflicto stepped back. "Do you have any idea how much I have to do?" Step. "Do I see you picking up even a screwdriver to help with Skyhaven?" Step. "I've just found out we're broke, and I haven't even STARTED on my new armor yet. Now, let's talk about your DROYD, spelled with a Y." Conflicto tripped over the doorjamb and fell on his ass. "I scan, I scan! No droid." In a whisper, he added, "Yet." He slithered away like an asp. Sultry embraced Triton from behind, and nibbled his ear. "Let's go back to bed, lover. We'll deal with the money tomorrow." Triton was sorely tempted to give in to the pleasure again. For the first time he was able to unleash his passion fully. Sultry was earthquake, storm *and* flood in bed. In short, sex with Sultry was pure addiction. Derek forced himself to shake his head. "Angel, I've never screwed a tornado before, and I want to try it more than anything. But I'm leader now. I need to set an example, and I can't do my work if we never get out of bed. I've got so much to do. Hell, maybe I'd even get around to building Eugene his butler." "But no one has ever made me tingle the way you have," said Sultry as she licked his ear. "Sultry, you have a job to do as well," said Triton. "We need support from the Khadamites more than ever." Outside, the sun disappeared behind clouds that suddenly coalesced. "If that's the way you feel, Triton, then perhaps I should begin courting the locals," said Sultry in a cold tone. Sensing a change in her mood, Triton added, "I didn't mean we can't still fool..." "When I freeze Hell over!" Sultry spat. She stormed out of the room. Triton stared the droid head in the eye sockets. If only he didn't have to do all the repairs by himself, he would have time for Angeline. Then the answer hit him. It was staring him right in the face. "You know," he mused, "Maybe a couple of extra hands are exactly what we need around here...." * * * * JANUARY 22th, 2024 For the most part, the wall-crawl was as gruelling as Labyrinthe's training exercises in Northern Quebec, only concrete and glass replaced rock and ice in the urban wilderness. He found that he could stray almost three meters into the former 'Death Strip' zone on the East Berlin side without affecting the spell. The worst part was that there were no toilets along the route of the old Berlin Wall that he could access without using his powers, an inconvenience that would haunt Labyrinthe for weeks after. Labyrinthe had noticed his unwanted travel companion five days ago. At first he thought there were two that were stalking him: a will-o'-the-wisp and a seventeen year-old female Vogue Ghoul, but then he figured out that they were one and the same. There was no way to evade her, this far into the ritual. Tired of being stalked, he finally confronted the will-o'-the-wisp. "Why are you following me?" The ghost-light metamorphosed into a young gum-chewing paraganger. "My Feuer brought me here, wallcrawler," she said. "The name's Petra Hollander," she said in French. "But you can call me Irrlicht. I can't help ending up in the wrong place at the right time, or vice versa. When I feel the wanderlust, I can't resist it. And now, it's led me to you. What *are* you up to, stranger?" "Just call me Guillaume Duplessis," said Yvan, using one of his aliases. He did not wish to reveal who he was. "Let's just say I'm a very determined tourist," he joked. "Mind if I tag along? I'd like to help." Yvan shrugged. "Can I stop you?" Even if he wanted to, he couldn't teleport her away at this stage of the game. Maybe she could also distract others and get him supplies. He held out a hand. "Just promise not to draw any attention to me." Petra shook his hand. "Who'd I tell, anyway?" Over the next few days he and she continued the trek, Yvan growing fond of her company. Petra was frank: "I rode with Der Zepter," referring to a Parabahn motorcycle gang. "A few of us were hired for a train heist to free Peryton of the CSV. Heard of them?" Yvan nodded, smiling inwardly. "They got caught by EUROPA, I didn't. [EUROPA #3 - Ed.] I won't go back. They think I'm a jinx. So I followed my Feuer, and here I am." "A jinx?" "Like I said, wrong place at the wrong time. For some reason I'm meant to be here, but maybe I shouldn't. It might just give you bad luck," apologized Petra. "But I haven't decided where to go." "I appreciate your company. I like having someone to talk to." The truth was, Yvan missed his twin sister. He felt brotherly towards Petra. They started chatting about all sorts of things, the way two strangers could on the road to becoming friends. Eventually, Yvan revealed his real name and his Labyrinthe identity to Petra, wondering how she would react. She disarmed his uneasiness with a laugh. "Told you...my life is full of strange coincidences." When Yvan finally returned to Checkpoint Charlie on the twenty-second, he felt the Wall reintegrating itself on an arcane level. The mystic circuit had been completed. He turned to Petra and smiled. "You certainly made the journey enjoyable, young lady. I'm glad chance brought us together. But I must return to Khadam." Petra grinned. "Pleasure was all mine, Guillaume." Yvan gave her a piece of the Berlin Wall. "In case you're in trouble and you need help, speak the word 'Telamon', and I will come to your aid. I hope our paths will cross again." "No doubt it will," said Petra. "A la prochaine," said Yvan. He opened a gateway and returned to Khadam. Once he had gone, Petra became a foxfire and fled to the Television Tower, the one Berliners called 'Telespargel', or 'Tele-Asparagus'. Atop the tower, she floated in front of a being of light. --I've done as you instructed, Your Brilliance,-- said Irrlicht with deference. --He did not suspect a thing.-- One thing she had not told Labyrinthe was that her Feuer gave her a minor hypnotic ability, enough to lead people astray or to make them susceptible to lies and suggestions. ==Excellent, my foxfire, excellent,== said the glowing figure. He looked over the city; after decades of imprisonment, it was good to be free again. The world that thought him dead had no need to know of his second coming, not yet. Not until it was too late. * * * * JANUARY 25th, 2024 Sultry headed for the Skin Crawl to meet with a Shadowmonger. In the past week, she had learned much about Khadamite politics. Of the four factions that fought for control of Khadam, two were Pranir Trade Houses, one of which traded alien technology for Anchors from China. While she was great at reading human body language, she had no experience with aliens, especially those who were not even humanoid like the four-armed hairy snakes that were the Pranir. Thus, Sultry thought it prudent to make her first overtures to the human factions: the Zugnovians and the Shadowmongers. The Zugnovians were the human faces of the technocracy. Arnold Zugmann was the nominal head-of-state of Khadam and its territories, but he and his Council of Technomancers had in fact no real power. The governance of Khadam was really in the hands of the two rival Pranir Trade Houses. The fourth faction, that of the Shadowmongers, controlled the underworld dealings in Khadam. Even though she blew up at Triton earlier, she could not get him out of her mind. No one had ever stimulated her senses so. If she were a storm, then Triton was the lightning that danced between her clouds, that struck the earth again and again with the power of a thunder god. Just thinking about it, Sultry subconsciously darkened the skies with thunderclouds, and she could feel the building storm inside her. She decided she wouldn't go crawling back to Derek. She would make him come to her and beg her to never leave him. She would see him grovel. But how? She pondered as she walked. She was barely a block into the Vivarium when the bounty hunter attacked. The man was a veritable juggernaut, malformed and studded with cybertechnology. He fired a net and entangled her in it, then raised a dartgun at her. He pulled the trigger and let loose the tranquilizer dart. Sultry conjured a gale-force wind that swept through the street with the speed of thought. The dart and the bounty hunter were thrown against a wall. He was blinded by the dust in the street. The demon wind died as fast as it had come. "Mors Nolens cares not if you live or die," shouted the bounty hunter. He struggled to limp over to Sultry, even though his left leg was twisted at a funny angle and his equipment was sparking. "Cyber-Nostra care not if you live or die. Prepare to die." "You forgot to grunt," Sultry ridiculed him. She disentangled herself from the net. "Since I have the thunderclouds already, I suppose you won't be shocked at my choice of death for you." She winked, and the lightning bolt struck with precision. She stepped over the charred body, and noticed a handsome Arabic man clapping. "Bravo, bravo, Miss Croft. You should prepare yourself for more attacks of this nature. The Cyber-Nostra have not forgiven you for devastating Sicily with Hurricane Newt, and have offered a large bounty on your head. Let us hope that no one claims it." He offered his arm to her. "Would you join me for tea?" Sultry took the arm. "Tea for two, then. I can handle myself, Mister...?" "I am Al-Khayal, which means 'The Imagination," said the man. "I am the Shadowmonger you so desperately want to meet." "That you are. You sent the bounty hunter?" "Only to test that your members are as powerful as you claim. That one was flawed: he was afraid of those who would touch his mind, slow as it was. Such a one became useless. Do you find fault with my methods?" "Not at all, Al-Khayal. Fear is a sign of weakness." A smile crept across Sultry's face. She would drive Derek insane with jealousy. She caressed the Shadowmonger's hand. "Do you fear me?" It took Al-Khayal a moment too long to answer. "I imagine I should, shouldn't I?" * * * * JANUARY 28th, 2024 Burnout, Labyrinthe and Conflicto confronted Triton in his workshop in the northern quadrant of the Garden. Derek was in the process of welding a third arm to a humanoid frame. He shut off his blowtorch and lifted his visor. "Can I help you?" "You've wasted enough of our time, Triton," Burnout said. "It's useless waiting for an assassin when we can't even pay for Conflicto's haircuts." "Hey!" protested Conflicto meekly. Burnout ignored him. "I've got personal business to take care of in New York City, and I'm taking Labyrinthe and Conflicto whether you like it or not." "I've heard rumours that my sister was sighted there around New Year's," explained Labyrinthe. Conflicto nodded. "Yeah, I wanna take a bite outta the Big Apple! Wait 'til I show those creeps what awesome power they turned down!" He peered at the robot. "HEY! I can't believe you caved! Can you program my butler to mix a mean Vogue-Ghoul Susy? Or a Scorched Ash?" "It's not YOUR butler; it's MY droid. I'm using it to rebuild Skyhaven and to house the new Skyhaven AI," snapped Triton. "Anyway, no one is going anywhere. Not unless I give them permission." "What can you do to stop us from going?" To make his point, Labyrinthe teleported behind Triton. "It's not like you can Anchor us. You've had your turn at revenge, and you screwed it up. Now it's time to let us chase a few of *our* goals." Triton ground his teeth in frustration. He knew Labyrinthe was right: Yvan outpowered him, and there was little he could do to hold him back. Rebus had real power over the mage, whereas he was powerless to stop magic. "You want to go with her on a fool's errand so badly, then go. I certainly don't need you all hanging around, distracting me. When you come back dragging your tail to sunny Khadam, just remember who warned you against it in the first place. Now get the Hell out of my workshop!" An hour later, Labyrinthe, Burnout and Conflicto appeared in New York City. "What's our plan, Burnsie? Coney Island? Statue of Liberty?" asked Conflicto with excitement in his voice. "We have an audition with a vigilante," said Burnout with an evil smile. "And you, Conflicto, will be our Broadway star!" [Read their exploits in the now classic Warden #10-#12 & STRAFE #8! - Ed.] * * * * JANUARY 30th, 2024 Derek downloaded the AI into the robot from his workstation through the optic cable. He stood back to admire his work. "Brilliant, if I do say so myself." Derek Radner's Zero-One Design (DR-01-D) was completed at last. It was as tall as Peryton, built out of android parts and weaponry scavenged from Haven. It had multiple arms, modular tools and weapons extensions, a wide array of sensors and a power core taken from the Light Brigade's laser cannon. The Artificial Intelligence would rebuild Skyhaven according to his new specifications, making it bigger and more powerful. The remaining weapons from Haven, excluding those he had incorporated into his new armor, would be integrated into Skyhaven as well. With Droyd busy slaving away on Skyhaven, he would have leisure time on his hands. Time, as it were, to lay back and enjoy the weather. Of course, it all depended upon Sultry getting a patron for the CSV. They still needed funds to be able to get the raw material they needed for Skyhaven repairs. "Droyd, activate." Upon hearing his voice, the robot came to life. %%Ready, master.%% Droyd awaited Triton's instruction. "Where is Sultry?" Droyd took but a fraction of a second to scan with Skyhaven's currently active sensors. %%Sultry is not within visual range. Her communicator indicates she is within Lower Ghat.%% Derek wanted to tell her about Droyd, but he couldn't resist the temptation of finding out what she was doing at the moment. "Patch into her communicator, eavesdropping mode." Through Droyd's voice synthesizer, Sultry's voice could be heard. "...wouldn't think you would be ticklish, there." A man's voice followed. "And here...and here. And especially there." Then, the two of them began to laugh. Triton's face became livid with rage. "HOW DARE SHE!" He knocked over a drafting board and threw his coffee mug with all of his strength. The mug shattered and splattered coffee on the wall. "GIVE ME HER COORDINATES, NOW!" Droyd obediently downloaded Sultry's coordinates into Triton's handcomp. Triton threw a CD-ROM case at Droyd's feet. "There are the schematics for rebuilding Skyhaven. Learn it and build it. *I* have a man to kill." Two minutes after Triton left his workshop, a figure of light coalesced before the robot and tapped a series of commands into the workstation. %%Ready to receive modifications,%% announced Droyd. ==New loyalties for your heart, DR-01-D.== A hand picked up the optical cable and disconnected it from the workstation. A beam of light was piped into the cable from the stranger's finger. %%Ready, master,%% said Droyd, awaiting new instructions from its new master. ==Maintain the initial AI directives as a mask for your new directives. Modify repairs to Skyhaven as I have commanded.== Droyd's eyes glowed red. %%Yes, master.%% TO BE CONTINUED! ============================================================================ Next Issue: Triton and Sultry continue playing mind games with one another, while Labyrinthe and Conflicto return from New York City without Burnout! Will they make powerful allies in Khadam...or new enemies? ============================================================================ Notes: Arnold Zugmann and Lana Smith created by Dave Van Domelen. Derek Radner/Triton created by Marc Singer. All other characters created by Tony Pi (wildfire@lsh.org; http://www.eyrie.org/~pi). Creator credits for the mysterious figure in the last scene (who talks ==like this==) will be revealed once the character's identity is revealed.