++++++++++++++++++++++ ///||| ******* ||| ||| + ACADEMY OF + /// ||| **** **** ||| ||| + + /// ||| *** * ||| ||| + SUPER-HEROES + /// ||| *** ||| ||| + + ///||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| + #10 + /// ||| *** ||| ||| + + /// ||| * *** ||| ||| ++++++++++++++++++++++ /// ||| **** **** ||| ||| .|. COHERENT COMICS /// ||| ******* ||| ||| --X------------------------ '|` UNINCORPORATED "Contact" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Copyright 1997 by David Van Domelen Permission given for archival at the Eyrie site, all others ask first ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [cover shows Contact looking into a mirror and seeing Paul Mahler's face in it.] "Why am I here?" A common enough metaphysical question that most people ask themselves at least once in their lives and mean it. Few people have no curiosity about their origins, their purpose in life (if any), the reasons why life has put them where they now find themselves. But, for some, it's an even more complicated existential dilemma. Aaron Zander, for example, has his own rather rare circumstances which make the question more pointed. Ever since an encounter with a life-force draining creature known as the Arcanovore [see last issue - Ed.] a few months ago, he has shared his body with the mind of his lover, Paul Mahler. "Don't you mean, 'Why are we here?'" Paul asked. While the two shared a body, they each spoke with their own voice thanks to Aaron's power of mind over body. It could be disconcerting to those not used to it. "Same thing, isn't it? I mean, haven't we functionally become two sides to the same spirit? Even the experts have trouble telling us apart when we concentrate on it." "Fine, semantic splitting hairs. But why ask the question in the first place?" Of course, Paul didn't have to ask...they shared a mind, so he knew already. But he knew the side of him which was Aaron had always preferred to talk out problems that bothered him, finding that the effort required to frame them in words and say them often clarified things for him. "Well, I don't mean it in the 'Why am I here in the first place?' sense, more in the 'Why am I *still* here?' sense." "The gestalt thing?" "The gestalt thing. We're the third of the breed, as far as we know, and the only one still hanging out here. Constellation was the first, and he reportedly ascended to a higher plane before the Godmarket hit. Then there was Cross's Family, which I helped get together, and they took off almost instantly." "But, aside from having the two minds are better than one advantages, we're still mortals, that's your point? Do you want to be a god?" Aaron shook his head. "No, no...but I'm still worried about it. Is there something *wrong* with our union, that we can't leap to that transcendant point Constellation did? Maybe the raw power of all the Family members let them make the jump right away, but from everything Peregryn's been able to tell me about them, the people who became Constellation started off weaker and less suited to a merging than we did. And even they ascended within a couple of years, after overcoming various problems." "So, you think maybe we're too attached to our separate identities to unreservedly become one? That we love ourselves more than each other?" Aaron just silently nodded and hung his head. * * * * "I have to admit that I'd love to keep you two here for more observation, not to mention because you make for nice scenery," Gene smiled as she gave Aaron a long, appraising look. She knew she didn't stand a chance romantically with a man who was his own couple, but it didn't stop her from trying. "But no, there's really nothing more we can do *for* you, even if there's more we can do *to* you. Any further self-improvement you need will have to be carried out on your own, or maybe you could look for alternate sources of training. Where, I don't know, since the Eurasian Union's psi program is years behind MetaPsych and the Chinese have no clues...and, of course, I'd strongly advise against Khadam." "You never know," Aaron calmly replied, trying not to show any reaction to Gene's advances, as usual. "I might find myself a mentor," he grinned wryly. Gene frowned slightly, not liking to be reminded of the case Aaron referred to. Sometimes powerful psis slipped through the cracks, and even if you caught them later, it might be too late to do more than contain the damage. The "Mentor" was one of these cases [see the Warden series for more details - Ed.]. "Anyway, there's only so much I can do about putting our lives back together while cooped up here at MetaPsych," Aaron added. "We have to get back to living our lives if we're going to fix them, you know?" "Well, no, I don't, actually. But you know that my life's tied too strongly to MetaPsych for me to really have my own perspective on that... just everyone else's perspectives," she finished. "Are you deliberately trying to annoy me, Aaron? Don't try lying, your defenses aren't good enough to block me on that yet." "Not deliberately, no. Yes, there's a 'but...' there, but I refuse to answer on the grounds you may hurt yourself slapping me. Anyway, if I've got my clean bill of health, we'll be leaving." "Fine," Gene sniped. "Get out." With that, she stalked out, leaving Aaron alone. -+Was that really necessary?+- Paul asked from inside Aaron's head. +-Yes. If we're successful and do manage to reach that higher level, I'd rather not leave behind anyone who would miss us as more than lost friends. And her hopeless infatuation with me is only going to hurt her more if left alone. I tried nice, it didn't work. Maybe nasty will. For all her borrowed life experience, she's still just a kid.-+ -+Since when is being eighteen considered "just a kid?"+- +-Since she spent five of those years here. You and I both know she's still got the emotional maturity of a young teenager, she just likes to think she's more mature because she has access to the memories of adults. She's spent so much time reliving the lives of others that she never really grew up. Maybe being spurned in a schoolgirl crush will help her grow up a little, give her an experience of her own to deal with.-+ -+Maybe. I've known her longer than you have, and I think she's a little more grown up than you give her credit for. I think a lot of that "schoolgirl crush" is just an act.+- +-Whatever. I can always apologize later, if we ever return here. The helijet's ready, let's go....-+ * * * * "Sorry, I can't help." "But Howa...Peregryn, I thought you were an honest-to-goodness Mage, capable of doing theoretically anything," Aaron flattered. The mage just gave Aaron a look that said "I don't flatter," sat back in the chair and sighed. Contact had come to ASH's Chicago base, where the mage Peregryn was currently stationed, in hopes of finding a mystic solution to his problem where the scientific one had failed. But his teammate was being rather obstinate. Finally, Peregryn broke the silence. "Look, you're correct that in theory I can do anything that magic will allow. But that's like saying that in theory a neurologist can perform in all areas of medicine...correct, but missing the point. I'm a specialist, Contact. I concentrate on Elemental magicks, and dabble in matters of prognostication and information-gathering. When it comes to matters of the spirit, I only know enough to get into trouble." "Can it hurt to at least try?" "In fact, yes. You're wondering why the two of you haven't yet bonded to the extent that Constellation did...have you ever considered that maybe you started off with a very tenuous bond, in a metaphysical sense? Yes, yes, I know your emotional bond is strong, but that may not be enough to truly merge your spirits. And if I go poking around with my limited skills, I could very well break what connection does exist. Which would definitely 'hurt.'" -+He may have a point there,+- Paul's voice whispered in Aaron's mind. -+Maybe we've been going about it wrong to assume that our souls are close just because our hearts are.+- "Listen to Paul, he was always the level-headed one," Peregryn advised. Aaron narrowed his eyes. "Have you been practicing telepathy, or are we broadcasting?" Many untrained telepaths couldn't help but broadcast their thoughts to everyone in the area, and Aaron didn't like the thought that he was so worried about matters that his training could slip. Peregryn shook his head. "No, you just had the look of someone listening to his inner voices. And since your inner voice has a name, it wasn't too hard to deduce Paul was talking to you. Your overall expression also told me he was agreeing with me, at least in part." "Busted," Aaron said with Paul's voice as he smirked. "Whatever. I don't suppose you could at least do a sort of passive aura reading, see if you can figure anything out without 'poking around?'" Aaron asked in his own voice. "Wouldn't do much good. If spirits are like stars in the sky, you two are like a binary star. To the unaided eye, you look like just one spirit...and even if I could 'focus' enough, the dominant spirit of the pair may be so bright that it eclipses the lesser," Peregryn explained. +-Just like the problem we had at MetaPsych,-+ Aaron noted. -+And I'll thank you not to pick up the straight line about dominant spirits,+- Paul smirked. "I don't suppose you know anyone who does specialize in spiritualism?" Aaron asked. "Contact, prior to Devastator's destruction of the Barrier, there weren't ANY serious mages besides me, regardless of speciality. And now they're popping up like dandelions...there's bound to be a spiritualist out there now, but I couldn't tell you who it would be. Your best bet is to investigate locations known for strong ties to such magic, like New Orleans, Haiti or even the Oracle at Delphi." "Wait, wouldn't it be a very bad idea to go messing around with Greek gods after what they did in the Godmarket days?" Aaron asked. Peregryn shook his head. "The Oracle is a more primal force, predating the Pantheon, possibly one of the few places of power to survive the olden days before magic was reduced in power and the gods left Earth. The Greek gods used it, but it was not one of them. Still, like any old power, it's dangerous if taken lightly, so you're right to be cautious. Even discounting the nearby threats of Khadam and the Arabs, it's a dangerous place. And with the Barrier down, many of the powers evoked in the wastelands of Serbia could be back and looking for new hunting grounds. The Oracle is the last place you want to go." -+So, of course, you know we're going to end up there eventually,+- Paul said, with a touch of prescience. * * * * There were few parts of the world untouched by the return of the old pagan gods in 1997, a time known as the Godmarket for the way the gods used modern advertising techniques to gain followers. But the Balkan peninsula was perhaps the most severely affected, a fact that tends to get overlooked in light of the massive die-off of humanity that followed in 1998. As an ethnic "hot spot," the region was ripe for manipulation by various wargods and gods of death and destruction. The hounds of Ares had been set to roam the countryside, slaying all who were not Croatian. Set created a new desert in the Serbian enclaves at the bidding of the Moslems, many of whom were glad to abandon their faith in exchange for revenge. And all this on top of the damage done by a powerful Bosnian metahuman earlier in the 1990s [See Constellation #9 - Ed.]. Greece itself had remained fairly free of these conflicts, but so many of its people had turned to Olympus during the Godmarket that the end result was the death of most of the peninsula's remaining population on July 6, 1998. Suffice to say, once things stabilized after the initial chaos that followed the Great Disaster, no one really wanted to move in and take over the nearly deserted Balkans. The whole region was seen as cursed, both as a sign of how stupidly destructive man can be, and as a sign from God or Allah or Yahweh that it was a Forsaken land. A few people eked out a living in the blasted landscape, mainly survivors who were born there and refused to leave, plus the occasional scavenger who hunted through the ruins for treasures, uncaring of the "curse" on the land. But the survivors were dying off slowly, and there were less treasures for the looters to take, and few people seriously entertained ideas of rebuilding. Thus, it was into a nearly deserted Delphi that Contact flew his ASH helijet. And compared to the rest of the peninsula, Delphi was a metropolis, a trade hub for survivors and attracting a few hardy souls who had noticed the return of 'godmagic' to the world. It was an odd mixture of the old and the young, as the hardbitten natives traded with fresh-faced young men and women who had come with a little money, a little power and a lot of hope. Contact had a great deal of money and quite a bit of power, but he was running low on hope. The past month had been a waste of time, visiting voodouns and hokey spiritualists around the North American Combine, hoping to find someone actually skilled in the practice they claimed to be masters of. But not a single one of them was even as good as Peregryn had been, and he was a self-admitted amateur in the field. He supposed he shouldn't have expected much. Everyone with even the faintest spark of power or Sight had been sacrificed to stop the gods from draining the lifeforce of the entire world. And while more had been born since then, none had the accumulated lifetimes of wisdom those who had been lost represented. Even those with knowledge but no actual Magene had largely been lost, having turned to worship of gods who promised them power, but in the end gave only death. The few he'd found who seemed to have real power lacked the "focus" needed to tell him and Paul apart...they all insisted they saw only one spirit. Hopefully that meant that they were bonded closely enough the bond wouldn't break under stress, at least. Aaron got out of the helijet, wearing light, touristy clothes and a light jacket for the mid-autumn weather. It was a little cool for his outfit, but since he could handle a blizzard in skivvies, he wasn't bothered. -+Okay, I've got a handle on the local dialect, it's a sort of pidgin of Greek and Romanian, you can go ahead and quiz the natives,+- Paul said. +-Right,-+ Aaron nodded, heading for a stall selling pottery. It had crude English signs on it reading "Secrets of Gods" and the like, no doubt catering to the recent small influx of seekers of wisdom. "Greetings, honored sir," Aaron said in a flawless rendition of the hybrid trade tongue. "I seek the Oracle." "You seek death. Devils have taken it, I will not send a trusting fool to his doom," the shopkeeper replied, then turned away to pointedly ignore Aaron. -+Got it. He's so scared of the place he practically painted a picture for me,+- Paul said, having been monitoring surface thoughts. Aaron started to walk back to the helijet. +-Devils, he said. The word he used just meant 'powers not of Allah,' so it really could be anything, from a group of mages or just plain looters, to something Really Bad.-+ -+And as Peregryn pointed out, Really Bad things could very well be hanging out here. Look, it's about ten miles away, an easy jog. No point in making more of a spectacle than we already have, let's hoof it.+- +-Easy for you to say, they're my feet.-+ -+What, I didn't sign any pre-nuptial agreement for disposition of body parts,+- Paul grinned as Aaron rolled his eyes and started running in the direction of the Oracle. * * * * +-We're being followed-+ Aaron thought as he ran through the rough foothills. -+By?+- Paul asked, casting his mental senses out to try and find a target mind. +-Not sure. Sounds like hooves, but doesn't sound like anything with four legs.-+ -+Got him!+- "Come on out!" Aaron shouted, pulling to a halt. "Owowowow! You don't need to pull so HARD," complained a short, hairy figure as he trotted out from behind an olive bush, clutching his horned head in pain. "A satyr?" Paul asked in astonishment. "Well, sure, it's Satyrday, ain't it? Ha! I slay me. By the way, nice trick with the voice," the goat-man chuckled. "It's Thursday, and what are you doing here? I thought the Pantheon pulled up stakes and left twenty five years ago...are they back?" Aaron asked, doing his best to keep the tinge of worry out of his voice. "No, no...they won't be back for ages. We satyrs are like weeds, though, first thing to grow back after the fire. Besides, humans still make the best booze. But where are my manners?" -+In his other suit?+- Paul interjected wryly. "My name's...wait for it...Peter!" the satyr continued. Silence. "Awww, come on. I spent months, okay weeks, okay a few long minutes... working on that name for maximum joke potential. You know, Peter? Pan? Satyrs?" the satyr pleaded like a bad comic on amateur night. "More like you have rocks in your head," Paul replied. Peter clutched his chest in mock pain. "Oh, you wound me, sir...but hey, that's kinda funny too. Rocks, petra, Peter...I get it! And is your name Castor or Pollux?" "Neither. You can call us Contact, if you want a name." -+3...2...1....+- Paul thought. "So, if I want to get in touch with you, I just contact Contact? Or do I send a Contact paper?" -+Barumpbump.+- "But, seriously folks, if you're heading up to the Oracle...which is NOT a recommended party place unless you're into recreational drugs...I hope you have your life insurance paid up," Peter warned, then capered about a bit, humming. +-He's insane,-+ Aaron thought. -+No, he's a satyr. Not much difference, but it's there. And he might know something useful.+- "I take it you've seen the 'devils' the locals say are in the area?" Aaron asked. "Oh, sure, ugly suckers too. Not devils, though...unless the locals were talking about little ol' me," Peter batted his eyelashes and grinned. "Then what are they?" Paul asked. "They're...Not Minotaurs." +-Great. Twenty questions with a satyr.-+ "Then what are they?" Aaron sighed. "Just what I said. Not Minotaurs. Half man, half bull, but they ain't Minotaurs, and I should know Minotaurs," Peter said conspiratorially. "These guys look kinda like Minotaurs, but the hands are wrong, and they have feet instead of fashionable hooves like mine." +-Aliens?-+ -+Or maybe Khadamite mutations. Either is bad.+- "Thanks for the warning, I'll be careful," Aaron said as he turned to leave again. "You'll be dead!" Peter said, in what seemed to be an attempt at a quote from somewhere, but Aaron couldn't quite place it. -+Just ignore him and keep running,+- Paul advised. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you haven't seen that!" Peter wailed, trotting along behind. * * * * Aaron fine-tuned his vision and looked at the cave entrance. Two hulking man-bulls bearing large axes guarded it. There were no obvious markings, no green/gold/white Khadamite sigil, but it seemed likely these were victims of the Technomancers' genetic experiments. If you knew what you were looking for, you could see the signs of these creatures having once been human, or at least descended from human. They had been modified for great strength, endurance and loyalty, but not for intelligence. Aaron doubted they would know what to do with a gun if given one, so the axes made sense. +-Any chatter?-+ -+You mean, aside from Peter?+- Nearby, Peter was noisily thinking of jokes, having figured out along the way that Contact could read minds and not being stupid enough to draw the attention of the "Not Minotaurs" by talking out loud. +-Yeah.-+ -+The guards are exceptionally stupid, as you've no doubt noticed. They do, however, have the Khadamite flag strongly imprinted on their consciousness, they've probably been trained to obey people wearing that insignia who give specific commands.+- +-Could we use that?-+ -+Well, I suppose we could run back to town and get the materials to make the flag, then pick their minds for the right commands. Or even try to directly project the illusion of the commands into their tiny little minds. But I don't want to push too hard, they might be outfitted with backlash traps against mental control...the Technomancers are no fools, they know to cover their behinds when engineering a mindless tool.+- Aaron winced a little at the thought. Part of his training at MetaPsych had involved a simulated backlash trap of the sort that can be set up in a mind to catch intruders unawares. Usually implanted with hypnosis or by another telepath, they're thought patterns the carrier is not consciously aware of, but which spring out at anyone probing too deeply, with painful results. It was rumored Khadam had developed a fatal version which caused the brain to totally seize up. -+So a mental attack is probably out. Physical?+- Aaron watched the guards for a moment. +-Doable. They're big, strong and tough by human standards, but judging by their movements and the way they carry those big axes, I don't think they're in the same ballpark as I am. But a distraction would help....-+ Aaron slowly turned to Peter and Paul smiled. Moments later, the satyr was experiencing the joys of flight, albeit not very joyfully, nor under his own power. More of a ballistic arc, really. The guards sprang into action. One ran over to where the satyr landed while the other moved to completely block the cave, having been trained not to leave the opening. Peter cringed as the man-bull raised his huge double-bit axe, when both were distracted by a horrible crunching sound at the mouth of the cave. Aaron had run up to the other guard and quickly snapped its neck, moving faster than the creature could react. Then, grabbing the large axe, he hurled it with strength capable of lifting a main battle tank. It sank up to the haft in the lead guard's chest, and Peter yelped as he was showered with blood. He yelped again as the corpse toppled forward, and he barely skittered out of the way before it hit the ground where he had lain. "Hey, thanks for the blood, Contract, now I've gotta take a bath!" Peter complained. "And it ain't even Sunday!" Aaron ignored the satyr and moved into the cave, alert for traps. He doubted the Khadamites had been there long enough to set up anything too elaborate, so he concentrated on any outcroppings capable of hiding a device. He hoped he'd killed the doorbull before any alert could be given. As it happened, the cave was very shallow, and he almost immediately encountered the rest of the party. A trio of men who looked like they might be scientists, another creature, and two men with rifles who were probably the keepers. One of the scientists spat something in German and the armed men moved to open fire. -+I haven't had time to learn German, but I think that was an order to cover a retreat,+- Paul noted as Aaron dodged electrical blasts and grabbed the man-bull to use as a shield. It struggled ineffectually against his superhuman strength and absorbed blast after blast while the scientists scrambled out of the cave. Once they were gone, the other men made to leave as well, but Aaron pinned them under the finally-unconscious creature's body. "No, let us go, Combiner!" one of them pleaded in heavily accented English. +-Bomb?-+ -+Bomb,+- Paul confirmed. -+Main thing on their minds.+- Aaron KO'ed the two with quick kicks and then scanned the room for anything which could have been a bomb. Several boxes and satchels had been left behind, any of which could conceal a bomb. He augmented his hearing, and heard a faint whine which could have been an electronic timer. Moving aside a bag which had been hastily placed atop it, he opened a metal box and saw a bomb inside, with the counter at three seconds. +-Here's hoping it's not pressure-sensitive!-+ Aaron thought as he grabbed the bomb and hurled it towards the mouth of the cave, hearing the clank as it banked off the cave wall and soared out the exit. "Hey, watch where you..." Peter started as he ducked his way into the cave. The air shook with a powerful explosion, but the vault of the cave remained intact. "Shhhhhoot," Peter finished from his position cowering on the floor. "I guess those guys I trapped aren't doing so good now," he noted. "If any survived, we can turn them over to the EU authorities with these guys," Aaron pointed at the unconscious soldiers. "Greece is still nominally under their jurisdiction, and I'm sure they'd love to know what Khadam was doing with people here. Although that's not hard to guess...they probably wanted to see if they could make the Oracle do tricks for them. Wonder where she is?" Peter snickered. "Silly rabbit, the Oracle isn't a person, it's a place. We're in it. The priestesses were just a convenient way to interact with the Oracle, since it's not exactly talkative. You're a bright couple of boys, I'm sure you can get something out of the old stoneface without having to drop acid or smoke bay leaves." "Worth a try, I guess," Aaron said as he sat at the center of the cave floor. -+Concentrate. There's a presence here we can contact. We just don't want to get too much from it, or it'll make a backlash trap seem like fun,+- Paul warned. Aaron and Paul merged fully and formed their question into a probe, sending it forth to any mind that might be waiting. Minutes passed. Oddly, Peter remained respectfully quiet. Suddenly, it was like an ocean was trying to fit into a thimble, the pressure of the Oracle's presence bore down on their merely mortal minds and they nearly blacked out before they could sever the connection. Woozily, Aaron stood. "Get an answer?" Peter asked. "I...think so. I can't stop thinking of an image of a man. A man with two masks...like ancient Greek actors' masks. He puts on one, then the other," Aaron replied. "That's it?" "Hey, there's a reason 'oracular' is an adjective meaning vague and mystical, buddies," Peter smiled. "I'm surprised you got even THAT clear of an answer...although I suppose it depends on what the question was. Maybe it wasn't clear. What was the question?" "Personal." "They always are," Peter sighed. "So, let's blow this taco stand. It's nowheresville. I wanna see the bright lights, big city, all that jazz. Can I come with ya? Huh? Huh?" "Sure," Paul smiled. +-Are you INSANE?-+ Aaron demanded. -+Not at all. I think Scorch needs a new special friend, don't you?+- +-Oh, come one...he's been practically civil lately.-+ -+Exactly. So he won't be expecting this as revenge.+- +-You're evil,-+ Aaron smirked as he pulled out his communicator and walked towards the open air to call in the EU. -+It's part of my boyish charm....+- =========================================================================== Next Issue: Dunno when there will be a next issue, this almost got posted as a one-shot. But I'm sure I'll be picking up on the ramifications of having a satyr in the house....